#rockstar bts au

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 16 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: fluff (if you squint really really hard), ANGST, strong language, explicit descriptions of violence & the process of cleaning wounds, mentions of loss of consciousness, SLOW BURN

words: 12.2k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 16 ► i’m still your favourite regret, you’re still my weapon of choosing

The performance in Cologne the next day passed by in a blur. Jungkook refused to speak to anyone and only opened his mouth when it was absolutely necessary during the sound check—and even then, most of his vocabulary consisted of grunts or monosyllables.

He wouldn’t have called it sulking—he would have called it existential sorrow—but from the perspective of those around him, that was what this was.

He had dreamed of a happy ending with you. Now, he feared there would be no ending at all. He feared you’d leave and your goodbye would come in a letter. Or maybe just a farewell email.

“I had a wonderful time working with you and I wish you all the best for the future,” would be the last thing you’d write. The last thing you’d say.

You’d leave and he would never see you again.

Although he didn’t talk to you, Jungkook watched you a lot. The band had to do some interviews backstage before the Cologne show, and you were in the room with them, behind the camera. He counted, you only looked at him once.

After the concert, Jungkook took a long shower, but it could not drown his fears. When he returned to the hallway outside the dressing rooms, he saw that the post-show drinks were already finished and everyone had returned to the bus. He’d hoped that would happen. He needed a few more minutes alone.

He entered the changing room with a towel draped over his shoulders and quickly changed his shorts into sweatpants. Just as he pulled his hoodie over his head—somewhat laboriously, as his arms were still damp from the shower—he heard something vibrating against the leather couch in the room.

Confused, he pulled the hoodie on and walked over to the couch. He didn’t recognise the phone, but Taehyung was calling it, so chances were good that the device belonged to Luna. He made a mental note to bring it to her and placed it back on the couch while he packed the rest of his things.

He had just unzipped his bag when he heard the door open and turned his head. His expectant heart immediately jumped over several beats at the possibility that this was you.

But it was the furthest thing from you.

It was Sid.

Sid had many useless, irritating talents, but always finding Jungkook when he was alone, was his most impressive one.

Jungkook started to roll his eyes even before Sid spoke up, but that didn’t deter the older boy from entering the room.

“You’ve been ignoring us the whole day,” Sid said, closing the door behind him. “Well, I don’t care if you ignore everyone else. But you’ve been ignoring me, and I can’t allow that.”

Jungkook threw his jeans and shorts into the bag.

“That is so kind,” he said without looking up. “Did you miss me that much?”

“I did,” Sid said, and even without looking at him, Jungkook knew he had his usual psychotic grin on. Leaning against the dressing table, Sid added, “the clock’s tick-tick-ticking.”

“If you don’t leave me alone right now,” Jungkook retorted, unplugging his charger and packing it, too, “my foot is going to be kick-kick-kicking your ass.”

Sid merely snorted at the threat. “You’re very hostile, you know? It’s just a bet.”

Jungkook scoffed.

He remembered hoping that Sid would eventually forget about the bet if no one mentioned it. How very naive he had been. Sid would never forget. He was like a hateful elephant in this case—he had a flawless memory for anything that benefited him and was constantly at the centre of attention in any room he was in, making it impossible to escape his presence.

Jungkook couldn’t believe that he had once clung to the Katana so tightly that he didn’t even consider the possibility of losing the bet as soon as he made it. It seemed absurd now. What did he want to prove? Nothing made sense to him anymore.

“Is it? Really? Just a bet?” he rebutted, moving closer to Sid with each question. “Because when I told you I wanted to end it, you acted like we signed a fucking contract.”

Sid shrugged, his indifference as irritating as it was insincere.

“A bet’s still a bet,” he replied. “You’ve got to keep your word.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook turned around and grabbed his hairdryer from the table. They had already argued about this before. He didn’t have the energy to keep doing it, and he still had things to pack.

“Get fucked, Sid.”

“Come on,” Sid said, clearly expecting a more grandiose response from him. “You keep saying that. But I’m willing to talk to you here. Tell me what happened.”

Jungkook glared at him through his peripherals. “What the fuck do you mean, what happened?”

“Well, you were acting so bold and confident before,” Sid said in a breathy voice, presumably to imitate Jungkook’s manner of speaking. “You were sure you’d get back together, no problem.”

“No,” Jungkook countered, straightening up. “I was sure we could go on a date, no problem. That was the extent of the bet for me.”

It was bad enough, he knew. But he couldn’t move forward if he didn’t own up to it.

“Aww.” Sid tilted his head sideways and pursed his lips to feign sympathy. “But you couldn’t even do that...”

“I fucking—okay,” Jungkook stopped when he felt his agitation grow. There was a voice in his head—very similar to yours—reminding him that Sid wasn’t worth it. “Get out. I’m serious.”

“Was that all talk?” Sid continued as if the younger boy hadn’t spoken. “Admit it, and maybe we’ll come to a different agreement about the bet.”

“Get,” Jungkook said, gritting his teeth, “out.”

Sid clicked his tongue, but the pleasure that this interaction brought him was prominent in his eyes. Antagonising Jungkook was his favourite part of the day.

“Predictable,” he said. “It seems I overestimated you, after all.”

“What the fuck are you on about now?”

“Well, you know,” Sid continued to spin his webs around Jungkook. “You and your manager. I thought you’d win the bet for sure.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jungkook asked, “yet you still agreed to it?”

Sid’s eye twitched slightly—Jungkook felt a great sense of satisfaction at the sight; it wasn’t often that Sid was forced to question his own logic, however momentarily—but he recovered too quickly.

“I like to gamble.” He shrugged. “What can I say?”

“You can shut up,” Jungkook suggested.

“However, you didn’t manage to do it,” Sid went on. “And I have to say, I am genuinely surprised. Not about you, no. I always knew you were pathetically in love with her, that’s just who you are. No offence, just the truth, really. But she’s just—I mean, come on.” He paused to laugh, one hand on his stomach as if he found himself so amusing that he needed to keep his guts from spilling out. “You fluttered your eyelashes at her once, and she went to Paris with you. She’s that fucking easy.”

Jungkook felt the room still as he lifted his gaze from Sid’s stomach to his eyes.

“What?” he asked.

“Oh, you know what I mean.” Sid’s grin was about as wide as the distance from this venue to the nearest hospital, where Jungkook thought he was about to send him.

Sid pushed himself off the table he’d been leaning against and walked over to the rack of clothes next to the couch. Jungkook watched him, stiff and belligerent.

“I thought she was keeping you on a short leash. And don’t blame me. I mean, you always ran after her as soon as she called,” the older boy continued, laughing with a little shake of his head—as if in disbelief. He turned and leisurely strolled back towards Jungkook. “But she—I mean, I get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much, but even I could have taken her out if I wanted to. Honestly, man, I’m surprised you couldn’t do it. She’s that specific type—you know the one—where she’ll say yes to anyone if they just put in enough effort—”

Jungkook’s punch landed right on the side of Sid’s mouth, cutting him off.

Something in Sid’s neck cracked as the blunt force twisted his head to the side. The corner of his mouth was bleeding, but he still had an almost defiant look in his eyes when he turned back to Jungkook. The tips of his fingers were painted scarlet when he pulled them back from his lips.

“I fucking warned you,” Jungkook growled while Sid continued to stare at his hand. “Get your ass out of here right fucking now or I swear they’ll have to carry you out of here in a fucking box.”

Sid spat the blood from his mouth on the floor and glared at Jungkook.

“That the best you can do?” he challenged. “Huh? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t even get someone like her to—”

Jungkook raised his fist again, but Sid had already been anticipating it. He pushed Jungkook’s hand back with his forearm, knocking the younger boy off balance for a moment—it was then that he landed a punch on Jungkook’s left cheekbone.

A sharp pain surged through the side of his face, but Jungkook was wide awake and furious.

In less than a second, he noticed Sid swinging back again—Sid had always been strong but slow—and Jungkook blocked his blow with his left wrist and rammed his shoulder into Sid’s chest, pushing him into the wall and wrapping an arm around him. The older boy thrashed and squirmed with raging strength until he freed one of his hands.

Jungkook tried to pin Sid’s left arm against the wall—he was left-handed if barely even that—but, being the massive pile of unbelievably lucky crap that he was, Sid managed to use his right fist to reach the boy restraining him.

Sid’s unexpected southpaw caught Jungkook just as he was lowering his head to avoid the blow from the older boy’s dominant hand—and his right fist connected with the side of Jungkook’s head, between his eye and temple.

“You’re f-fucking embarrassing,” Sid snarled, bloodied and breathless, as Jungkook staggered backwards, dazed from the blow. “Weak fucking piece of sh-shit. Birds of fucking feather, you two—both fucking worthless and—”

Sid inhaled quickly before finishing his sentence—but then he ended up not even finishing his breath.

Aggravated and filled with raw adrenaline, Jungkook delivered a furious uppercut, his fist colliding solidly with Sid’s chin. The older boy was propelled backwards by the force—Jungkook heard the thud as his head hit the wall.

Already groaning, Sid was determined to fight back—never mind that the room was spinning—but Jungkook took advantage of the moment while Sid’s vision was still cloudy and pinned him against the wall with his full weight.

“I thought I told you to shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pressing his forearm against Sid’s neck.

Choking, Sid immediately grabbed Jungkook’s arm to push him off, but Jungkook had a clear strength and fury advantage. He did not budge as the older boy resisted him.

Sid knew this wasn’t a good look for him—he could feel that if Jungkook pushed his forearm into his neck any harder, he’d lift him off the ground. Unable to breathe, the older boy paled, but his eyes were black with rage.

“Face the fff-fuh-fucking facts. You’re weak,” Sid wheezed, livid. There was blood in his mouth and something else that rolled around his tongue when he spoke. “And she’s a f-fucking—”

“One more fucking word,” Jungkook warned, pressing his arm harder into Sid’s throat—the other boy couldn’t even look at him anymore, his head was pushed too far back, “and you’ll have to be fucking dissected to find out what the fuck happened to you.”

Sid gasped for breath but refused to stop speaking. “I—unf—f-fucking—”

“What the fuck—” a shrill, startled voice demanded from behind the two boys, “—is going on?!”

Jungkook jumped—Sid felt his arm shove deeper into his throat and let out a half-stifled cry—and turned to see Luna standing wide-eyed in the doorway of the changing room.

He tore himself away from Sid, who dropped his hands to his knees, panting and clutching his throat before straightening again as though nothing was wrong. But his attempt to inhale properly resulted in another violent coughing fit. He bent over to spit out some blood and something else.

The two boys watched as a tooth rolled into the revolting mixture of spit and blood on the floor. Sid looked appalled as he reached for his mouth again, almost prepared to count all his teeth to check if he’d really lost one or if spare teeth were just something he carried around in his mouth without realising.

“Do I have to ask again?!” Luna cried, too shocked to make sense of what she had the unfortunate luck of interrupting.

“It’s okay, Luna,” Jungkook said, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “Sid was just leaving.”

Sid glared at him, coughed again, and leaned in closer.

“All bark,” he hissed hoarsely. Jungkook could see the small gap next to Sid’s lower canine when he opened his mouth. “No bite.”

“Get fucked,” Jungkook said. “And pack your shit. Don’t come anywhere near me again or you’ll be eating through a fucking straw.”

He watched as Sid narrowed his eyes, fighting a battle within himself. Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, his fists ready to strike if he made another comment or exhibited any signs of even thinking about you.

Finally, Sid turned around and stormed out of the room. As soon as he walked down the corridor without so much as a glance at Luna, she went inside.

Still completely bewildered, she stopped abruptly in the middle of the room. The pool of blood was between her and Jungkook, and they both looked at it for a moment.

“What—” she began, then paused to suppress her disgust as she lifted her gaze from the floor to Jungkook. “What the hell happened here?”

He walked over to one of the cupboards by the window, searching for towels. He needed to clean this up or the venue would report the damages to you.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“You’re bleeding,” Luna said, stepping closer. Jungkook froze as she took one of the towels from him and reached up to his temple. “You’re bleeding so much, in fact, that you might need stitches.”

He shook his head—and then received a punch in the ribs from her. He yelped in surprise and learnt to stand still while she wiped the blood off.

“It’s fine,” he insisted. His temple throbbed with pain, but it still couldn’t compare to the sharp-edged emptiness that he’d felt all day.

“It’s not fine,” Luna said, pulling away. The towel was soaked with blood. Jungkook had to admit that he was surprised he was bleeding so much. Despite the sharpness of Sid’s fists, he had assumed that he’d been merely scratched. “Let me find—”

“No!” His eyes were wide in sudden panic. “Don’t—don’t bring her here. Actually, don’t tell her about the mess here at all. Please?”

Luna watched him for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion (was he serious?) and eyes bright with pity (what a shame to be so stupid).

“Jungkook,” she said patiently. “You’re going to have bruises all over your face. Probably even a black eye.”

He exhaled and looked down.

He knew he couldn’t keep this from you, but involving you now was the worst possible thing he could do. He was supposed to make things right.

“I know,” he said slowly, “but—I’m… I don’t want this to be another one of my messes that she has to clean up. That would definitely make her give up and go to Reconnaissance.”

Luna lowered her gaze, taking a moment to process the fact that Jungkook knew about the other band, but instead of the hysterics that everyone would have expected from him, he’d been rather composed all day today. Until he got into a fight with Sid, of course.

She tossed the towel onto the puddle of blood on the floor. She had no intention of cleaning it up herself, but she couldn’t stand to look at it.

“Well, have you considered not getting into this mess in the first place?” she asked then.

“Believe it or not, he started it,” Jungkook mumbled as he gathered more towels from the cupboard.

“Does that even matter now?”

Luna had to step back as he bent down to mop the floor. Some blood had already seeped into the wooden floorboards, but Jungkook scrubbed over the stain with the towel anyway.

“No,” he said, concentrating his irritation on the repetitive motions as he wiped the floor. “I guess not.”

“At least let me get some band-aids for you.” She looked around the room. There didn’t seem to be any first-aid kits here, but she had a few band-aids in her bag that she’d left in the waiting area outside. “Although I don’t know if that’s even enough.”

“It is enough,” Jungkook said. “I’m fine. He barely—barely touched me.”

Rolling her eyes and shaking her head, Luna turned to the door, muttering under her breath, “fucking boys.”

Jungkook couldn’t help a small smile.

“I heard that!” he shouted.

“I wanted you to!” she shouted back without turning around.

He chuckled, then winced at the sharp twinge in his temple. The adrenaline must have worn off, or the pain was getting stronger. He stopped scrubbing the floors, hoping to leave a message for the organisers and personally apologise for the mess later.

Then he crossed his legs on the ground and leaned his head against the wall. For just one second, he closed his eyes and rested.

He made a decision while he did.

He resolved to make sure that Sid wouldn’t come anywhere near him, Rated Riot, or you.

He finally realised that he had friends here—real friends. They had been here all along, the people who loved him. Hoseok, who took care of him when he was hungover. Yoongi, who tried to find help when he thought Jungkook was feeling a little too much. Taehyung, who didn’t leave even after Jungkook admitted how much he’d fucked up. And Luna, who looked about ready to physically beat some sense into him, but still stayed to help him with his wounds. Namjoon, Jimin, Seokjin, and Maggie, too—honestly, the entire team who laughed at his jokes, teased him and always supported him.

Although he was still worried about being alone with his thoughts, Jungkook knew he didn’t need Sid to fill the void. Now he wondered if Sid had always been the void he was trying to escape.

He was determined to prevent history from repeating itself. These people that he’d desperately wanted to call friends had already contributed significantly to your break-up once before, without him realising it.

Well, now he realised it. And he was going to fix it—all of it.

He could start by eliminating the reason why he kept making the same mistakes.

A minute later, Luna returned to the room. The sight of Jungkook sitting on the floor with his eyes closed made her look twice as she felt her heart drop in sudden anxiety.

She thought about turning around and looking for you, because you had a lot more patience to deal with this than she thought she did. But then, she knew that another argument was the last thing you or Jungkook needed right now.

She took a deep breath and approached him.

“Here,” she said as she grabbed another towel and squatted down next to him with the few band-aids that, frankly, seemed meagre when she saw the cuts and bruises on his face up close. “Let me help you.”

Jungkook had only briefly opened his eyes to look at her and then closed them again.

“Thank you,” he said as she wiped more blood from the side of his face before applying the band-aid. She didn’t mean to be gentle. She wanted him to understand how much he’d messed up. But her movements ended up being tentative and careful anyway.

“Don’t thank me,” she said, biting her lip as the blood immediately seeped through the band-aids. They would not hold; they both knew that. She sighed and pulled away from him. “She will see this. You will have to argue with her again. I can’t help you with that.”

He nodded his head once. “I know.”

Luna rose and walked over to the back of the room, considering this. She leaned her hip against the table and looked back at him.

“I don’t, um—okay. For what it’s worth,” she said, resting her hands on the table on either side of her. “I don’t think she’ll quit. Not even over this.”

“You really believe that?” Jungkook asked, opening his eyes. The hope in them was so bright that it was almost blinding.

Luna nodded. “She loves the band too much. Not even you can change that.”

He looked down. That would have to be good enough, he decided—just the fact that you would stay, even if it wasn’t for him. Even if it was despite him.

“I-I hope you’re right,” he said quietly.

“Okay, so now—” Luna jumped onto the table to take a seat, “—tell me what happened with Sid.”

Ordinarily, this would have been a long story. But Jungkook knew Taehyung might have made telling it a bit easier for him.

“Taehyung said you know about the bet?” he asked to be sure.

“Yeah. He told me back in Tilburg after he saw you leave with her to talk. Or, well, he assumed you would talk,” Luna explained. “In any case, you should be grateful that I know my strengths. Otherwise, I’d be punching you, too.”

Considering how much smaller than him Luna was, Jungkook smiled reflexively.

“I appreciate you not doing that,” he said with genuine respect.

“I’ve mentally kicked your ass, though.”

“Well, I deserve that, I guess.”

“So, this was about the bet, then?”

Jungkook sighed. He hadn’t technically allowed Sid to say any additional adjectives after he’d called you “easy,” but even this was too much. Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could talk about it without wanting to rip Sid’s eyes out and feed them to him.

“He was… just riling me up. He said some—some things,” he said, choosing a gentler word, even though several more appropriate expletives came to mind. “And he took it too far. Trust me, he deserved to get hit.”

“Oh, I trust you,” Luna said. “I just don’t think you should have been the one to hit him.”

Jungkook swallowed, feeling a metallic taste in his mouth. It didn’t bother him much. He’d tasted worse in the past few days.

“If I didn’t do it,” he said, “no one else would have.”

“Why are you so sure about that?” Luna asked, her voice less confident.

Most of what she knew about Jungkook and Sid came from questionable fan accounts she’d seen online—the stories she read were almost always outrageous, but now that she’d gotten to know Sid on this tour, she found those accounts much more plausible. Surely then, if Sid was this loathsome to everyone, someone was bound to deck him sooner or later.

“Everyone else is afraid of him,” Jungkook replied.

“And you’re not?” she asked.

The question felt mocking—even though it didn’t sound like that was Luna’s intention.

He thumped his head against the wall. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

The room was silent for a few minutes as Jungkook sat motionless, and Luna’s gaze kept wandering to the pile of towels on the bloodstained floor and then back to his resigned figure against the wall.

“Can I ask you something?” she said then.

His voice was tired. “Yeah.”

“Why did you make this bet in the first place?”

He inhaled, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot up from his lungs to his throat. It probably wasn’t a good sign, but he did not have the energy to worry about it at the moment.

He scratched the uninjured side of his face with his hand—his knuckles bruised and torn—and let his fingers linger there. It was a reflexive reaction, Luna observed, as he tried to hide from her. Or, rather, from her question.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Sid and Jude were getting in my head about how I was like some—I don’t know, pathetic. They made me feel like I was less of a person because I still had feelings for her.”

“Less of a person,” Luna said, “or less of an asshole that they seem to be trying—and succeeding—to be?”

Jungkook sighed, allowing the pins and needles to settle in his oesophagus. He wanted to say something but swallowed the answer with the bitter taste in his mouth.

“So, you made the bet to prove them wrong?” she asked in response to his silence.

“I—I don’t know,” he said again. He sometimes felt like he was a different person when he was with his friends. And now that he was determined to never see Sid again—but the repercussions of their friendship were still evident—Jungkook didn’t know who he really was anymore. “I think, at first, I agreed to the bet to prove a point.”

Luna raised her eyebrows. “But there was another reason?”

“Yeah, I think that… there was something else,” he said with a slow nod. “I realised later that I might have agreed to the bet because I wanted to win it. Not—not for the money, and not just to prove that I wasn’t pathetic. I just really—I wanted to go on that date with her. I wanted her. And the bet was—it was a kick in my ass to finally act on my feelings.”

Luna’s eyebrows suddenly dropped in disappointment and she turned away to hide her expression, even though Jungkook was too weary to lift his head and look up.

“There were better ways to act on them, you know,” she said. “Less painful ways, too.”

“Oh, I know,” he said with a wry smile. “Unfortunately, I’m fucked up.”

“You… you’re not fucked up,” she said, although to be honest, after learning about the bet, she thought he might be. But now that she saw how much his choices tormented him, she realised that he wasn’t all black and white. He was very, very grey. “You just did a fucked-up thing.”

Jungkook snickered weakly. “That’s nice of you to say. But I was always… I’d always been a problem.”

“Because of your friends?”

“Yeah—well, mostly, yeah. B-but she—” he paused here as another jolt of pain shot through his chest at the mention of you. He filled his lungs completely with another sharp intake of breath, then tried again. “She still—she still loved me. You know? I used to look at my friends and think I had nothing compared to them. But then I met her, and I—I had everything. I didn’t deserve her, but I—she was with me. She wanted to be with me. And she was the one good thing in my life. And I took that for granted. And now that I—now that we… anyway. I blew it. Now I really have nothing. Serves me right, I know. I just wish she wasn’t—I wish I hadn’t hurt her.”

Luna closed her eyes and sighed in response to the endless additions that Jungkook could not seem to control as he spoke.

She felt a little upset, she couldn’t help it. But she also felt a little giddy. She’d never heard Jungkook say these things about you, but she’d suspected that was how he felt all along.

However, she wasn’t one to make empty promises, especially when those promises were not within her control, so she could not say things like ‘you two will be fine’ or ‘you didn’t blow it.’

Honestly, she couldn’t find an appropriate response no matter how much she tried, so for a good minute, the two of them sat in silence.

Then, Jungkook finally raised his eyes from the ground. “Why’d you come here, by the way? I thought everyone was on the bus.”

Luna blinked, remembering suddenly.

“I left my phone here after the show,” she said, instinctively checking her pockets to make sure she really did not have it.

“Oh.” He pointed to the opposite side of the room. “I think I heard it vibrate. On the couch.”

“Ah.” She pushed herself off the table. “Thanks.”

He watched through his eyelashes as she picked up her phone. One of his eyelids was dropping and he was afraid to blink.

When Luna glanced at the screen—and probably saw the missed call from Taehyung—Jungkook said, “you should go.”

She turned around and took in the scene in the room once more.

It was miserable here. Jungkook looked miserable.

“I’m sorry I can’t say anything encouraging,” she said, biting her lip. “She’s my friend. And you’ve done a—well, this isn’t good.”

Jungkook nodded and swallowed, but it didn’t soothe his dry throat. “I know.”

“I’d like to help, but I—I’m always going to be on her side.”

“Of course. I understand.”

Luna sighed, because he had claimed he understood, but still looked as if happiness was a concept he’d never experienced in his life.

“I just—I don’t know what to tell you before I go,” she admitted. She knew she didn’t owe him anything, but leaving him here in this state didn’t feel right, either. She had always been compassionate, but the intensity of it surprised her this time. “I don’t know what she’ll do. A-about you, I mean. Not about Reconnaissance.”

Jungkook considered this. The side of his head felt torn and cracked. The poor band-aids were already dark red.

“What would you do?” he asked.

Luna raised her eyebrows at the abrupt question. “Me?”

“If you were her,” Jungkook explained. “Or if I were Taehyung.”

She licked her lips, taking a moment to choose her next words.

“Jungkook,” she said. “No offence, but Taehyung would never do something so stupid.”

A defeated, humourless smile appeared on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right. He wouldn’t.”

As soon as the tiniest glimmer of hope in his eyes dimmed, his voice sounded as if it was coming from somewhere underground.

God, Luna thought. Now the room was even more dreary.

Even though she was going to support whatever decision you would make about this, she couldn’t just leave without saying anything to him. Having no one on his side while he tried to redeem himself was unfair.

Advice, she figured, had to be the best thing she could offer him right now.

“Listen,” she said with a determined inhale. “I can’t judge what I would do if I were her because I don’t share her memories. I don’t know what happened between you all those years ago. Or even what’s happening now. But… if I were you, I’d give her some time.”

Jungkook nodded, looking at her with what he hoped was a grateful smile.

“Interestingly enough, that’s what your boyfriend told me,” he said.

“Yeah? Well, he gives great advice.”

The corners of his lips stretched further. “Matching set, you two.”

Luna slid her phone into her pocket and grabbed her bag, zipping up the pocket where she had kept the band-aids.

“Just be careful, okay?” she said. “We’re leaving for the airport soon, so don’t stay here too long. Don’t make her look for you. I’ll, um—I’ll try to do damage control.”

“Okay. Thank—”

Before Jungkook could finish, the door of the changing room opened wider, diverting their attention.

They both turned to look with very different expressions on their faces—Luna was already scowling, thinking that Sid had come back. Jungkook, on the other hand, appeared absolutely terrified, thinking that it was you, about to witness him sitting on the bloody floor—literally—with band-aids on his face.

“Oh,” a gasp left Minjun’s lips as he stopped in the doorway. “Sorry, I was—”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook said, immensely relieved. “You can come in.”

“Hold on,” Luna warned. Minjun remained frozen under her gaze. “Will I have to intervene? Because I think we’ve spilt enough blood already.”

Minjun raised his eyebrows. “Whose blood?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jungkook said to the girl. “Thank you, Luna.”

She watched the two of them for another minute until Jungkook nodded reassuringly again. Hesitantly, she nodded back and gave Minjun a pointed look.

“Okay. But you watch your hands,” she warned. “He has to be on stage tomorrow.”

“I—I mean no harm.” Minjun raised both hands, taken aback by her hostility. “I don’t know what happened here, but I’m—I come in peace.”

“Good,” Luna said with a firm nod. She glanced back over her shoulder at Jungkook. “I’ll see you later. Put some ice on your eye when you get back on the bus. It won’t do much for the colour, but it might help with the swelling.”

“Will do,” he said and called out as she exited the room, “thank you again!”

After Luna had left, Minjun entered the room and closed the door behind him. Only then he noticed the bloody towels and the dirty floor. Squinting, he leant forward a little and detected something else between the towels.

“So,” he said, straightening. “What the fuck happened and whose tooth is that on the floor?”

Jungkook snorted. “Sid’s.”

Minjun’s face lit up with childlike glee. “No fucking way! Did you do it?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said with a grin that made him look vaguely menacing, considering how bruised and battered his face was.

“Awesome, man,” Minjun said, coming closer to pat him on the back before squatting next to him.

“He deserved it.”

“I don’t even care, to be honest. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah. Well.” Jungkook lifted a hand to gesture at his own face. “He’s landed some good ones, too.”

Minjun observed his bruises and the bloody band-aids that seemed quite small for a normal cut, but remained remarkably resilient on his fresh wounds.

“You’ll live,” he concluded.

Jungkook turned to him. A little awkwardly, he asked, “why, um… why are you here?”

“Ah.” Minjun reached into his pocket for something. “Here.”

Jungkook immediately recognised the keys to his Katana in his friend’s palm.

Speechless for a minute, he just stared at Minjun’s hand without moving. He had a feeling—against his better judgement—that this was a trap. That by taking the keys, he’d sign something else to the devil.

“What—?” he tried to ask.

“Take it,” Minjun urged, wishing to relieve himself of the unwanted weight of the keys in his hand.

“But the bet—”

“Fuck the bet,” he said, waving his palm up and down when Jungkook still didn’t reach for it. “It went too far.”

“Sid,” Jungkook began, hesitation and doubt evident in every centimetre of his face, “didn’t agree to this.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Sid’s mother didn’t agree to give birth to a fucking clown, but shit happens,” Minjun countered. “Take the damn keys.”

Jungkook finally extended his shaking hand and felt the familiar cold metal under his fingertips. He paused before pulling back with the keys.

The Katana was his. But instead of relief, he felt a new weight in his chest.

“Why?” he asked, looking down at the key ring, adorned with a gaudy, jewelled pendant with the initials “JK.” It was a trinket you had bought him during a drunken escapade at a local fair. He still remembered your delighted squeal when you spotted the two letters in one of the jewellery stands.

“Because this is stupid and pointless,” Minjun said. His legs had gone numb, so he mirrored Jungkook’s position and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. “Some fucking bet is not worth ruining your relationship over.”

With a small smile on his face—because they were two miserable losers, hanging out on the floor of his band’s changing room—Jungkook clutched the keys and pushed them into his own pocket.

“Thank you,” he said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier,” Minjun said. “I was afraid, I guess. Of what Sid would do if I went against his wishes. But then I… came to pick you up from that hotel bar in Tilburg—”

“That was you?” Jungkook cut him off. He had been wondering how he ended up back on the tour bus.

“Yeah,” Minjun replied. “You called me and asked to take the bike back to the rental shop because you couldn’t do it anymore. Man, I swear, I thought you were on some bridge, the way you phrased it.”

Jungkook looked away. He was not in a good place when he called his friend, and alcohol must have exaggerated it. “Sorry.”

“You still looked worse than I expected when I got there,” Minjun continued. “I thought I might have to take you to a hospital to have your stomach pumped, and I don’t fucking speak Dutch. Nor did I know where a fucking hospital was in Tilburg.”

Jungkook laughed at his rising tone, and Minjun smiled, too.

The smile turned ironic, however, when he added, “you threw up on my shoes.”

Jungkook, who never got drunk enough to experience a hangover the next day, let alone throw up, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I don’t remember that,” he said, meaning that it didn’t happen.

Minjun ignored the dismissive tone in his voice—he had a ruined pair of Converse to prove his accusation.

“Lucky you then,” he retorted. “You regained some colour after that, though. But you wouldn’t stop talking about her. It was like—like you couldn’t understand anything of what was happening, but you could still remember her. It hit me then, how little the bet really mattered. I mean, I always thought it was stupid, but that night, I—I saw what you were feeling. You regretted everything. I wanted to give you the keys right then, but you looked like you couldn’t recognise yourself in the mirror, so I just dropped you off on the bus. One of your—Hoseok was awake. He thanked me.”

Jungkook needed a minute to reflect on the conversation he’d had with Hoseok later that same morning.

“He didn’t tell me,” he said.

Minjun shrugged. “He had nothing to thank me for, anyway. I’m your friend. Sorry I didn’t act like it before.”

This was the first time that one of his friends had apologised to him, and Jungkook recognised the significance of the moment. He realised with blinding clarity that out of the three people he had invited as his personal guests on this tour, there was only one he truly wanted to stay here.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, a little overwhelmed. “I’m—thanks for doing this now.”

Minjun nodded and the two of them shared a moment of comfortable silence. But Jungkook couldn’t quiet his thoughts—Sid wasn’t here, but he still couldn’t shake his presence.

“There was something that Sid said to me today,” he spoke up. “I-I think he likes her.”

“What?” Minjun was surprised. He glanced back at the tooth on the floor in front of him. “What’d he say?”

“He—just some shit.” Jungkook looked down and pulled on a loose thread on his sweatpants. “About how he could have convinced her to date him.”

Minjun blinked in another wave of surprise. He had a very different understanding of what Sid felt for you and Jungkook, but now he was confused.

“He’s just trying to get under your skin,” he tried to rationalise.

“No, but think about it,” Jungkook said. “Why else would he go to such great lengths to persuade me to participate in this bet? To force me to continue it after I’d clearly won?”

Again, Minjun needed a minute to find a response.

Jungkook clicked his tongue and looked away. “See, you can’t disagree.”

“I mean…” Minjun bit the corner of his lower lip. “I guess it makes sense, but—”

“I know that she wouldn’t consider him in a million years,” Jungkook added. “I’m not even thinking about that, I’m just… wow. How fucking stupid. He ruined this for himself and for me.”

His friend sighed. He didn’t want to keep talking about this. “Yeah.”

“And I let him,” Jungkook finished.

“Yeah,” Minjun repeated. “He deserved getting his tooth knocked out. And you deserve the swollen eye.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and puckered his lips. He wasn’t going to disagree, and Minjun smiled in relief when he saw the humour in his friend’s eyes.

This had to happen, Minjun thought. Jungkook wouldn’t have been able to move on if he had not found another way to prove that his own self—and his relationship with you—was the one thing he would never lose, no matter how hard Sid tried.

“What, um,” Jungkook asked after a minute, “what are you going to do when Sid asks about the keys after the bet is over?”

Minjun, feeling much more relaxed, merely shrugged. “Knock another one of his teeth out?”

Jungkook laughed and smacked his friend on the shoulder, despite the pain in his head when he moved.

“Oh, come on,” Minjun said, grinning. “He still has, like, fifteen left.”

“I’m sure he has more left. Implants or not.”

“Now, see, implants are harder to knock out. We’d have to meet and discuss the logistics of that. Perhaps attack in secret.”

Jungkook laughed again, and Minjun joined in, too.

They both felt significantly better.

However, Jungkook still had a lot of things to take care of as soon as he got up from the floor.

He should have told you about the bet earlier, but he hadn’t. All he could do now was make amends for a lapse in judgement with terrible consequences.

No.

There would be no consequences. He would make sure to never hurt you again.

And he’d begin by following through with his plan.

Jungkook asked Minjun to give him some time alone and found his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants. He dialled Seokjin’s number, and Seokjin referred him to the Head of Security on tour, Mick.

Mick was lovely. He fostered pets and looked after injured animals in his cabin on the edge of the forest, where he lived with his three dogs. Jungkook had visited him once and felt very much like he imagined Harry Potter to feel when he saw Hagrid’s hut for the first time.

Mick was also three times larger than Jungkook. His primary responsibility on tour was preventing intoxicated individuals from climbing onto the stage and ensuring trespassers did not decide to have an excursion on the band’s tour bus.

Now, Jungkook decided as he spelled Sid’s name to Mick over the phone, Mick was going to make sure that Isidore Hamlet Mercer-Hastings—a name that likely had Shakespeare himself rolling in his grave—could not enter any venue where Rated Riot was scheduled to perform.

It wasn’t quite as dramatic as a restraining order, Jungkook supposed. But blacklisting Sid from his gigs seemed like a good start.

Half an hour later, Jungkook had barricaded himself behind the curtains in his bunk. He was fully awake but he didn’t want you to see what he looked like.

Naturally, you had assumed he was sleeping and had no reason to talk to him anyway, so you kept yourself busy with an e-book in your bunk as the bus made its way to the airport.

Then, most unfortunately, your relative peace was disturbed when you received a text message from Nick Zhou. It was as if he could sense the terrible turmoil in your mind and your heart, and he wanted to add more fuel to the fire.

Things like that happened sometimes, you thought. Coincidences—unless you decided to treat them as signs.

Nick had sent you a picture of the perfectly green palm trees visible through a window. You zoomed in and assumed that he had taken the picture somewhere in Australia, where Reconnaissance were currently on tour.

In the text below, Nick said, “new album in progress. Would be nice to have you with us when we put it out!”

Anxious suddenly, you considered putting your phone away and just carrying on with your e-book. But your uncertainty was relentless—maybe if you replied to him, you’d gain a clearer understanding of what you should do.

You typed back, “hope you’re having fun! I’m still thinking about it.”

Then you exhaled and tossed your phone to the farthest corner of your bunk so as not to be bothered in case it vibrated again. Texting him back didn’t work. You felt just as tense as before.

You exhaled and attempted to keep reading, but silence was simply not meant for you today.

With the flight to Manchester only five hours away, Luna decided it was a good time to discuss with you what had happened in the changing room.

“Hey,” she whispered as she crept up to your bunk, moving stealthily and quietly as if she were a secret agent on a mission.

You looked up at her from your screen. “Hi.”

She wanted to talk to you, but now that she was doing it—or getting to it—she didn’t quite know how to proceed; or even where to begin, actually.

“So, um,” she said, sitting down on your bunk and taking her time to find a comfortable position. You put your tablet away and watched her. “I wanted to check up on you a little.”

You smirked. “Yeah? But not a lot?”

“Not yet.” She smiled at your teasing question. “You’re not critical, but I do think I have some cause for concern.”

You pulled yourself up and pushed a pillow behind your back to sit straighter. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, you and Jungkook seem to be avoiding each other.”

You regarded her for a minute until you reached the inevitable conclusion—you suspected it yesterday, and now Luna’s knowing gaze fully convinced you that it was true.

“You know about the bet,” you said.

Luna looked around. No one on the bus appeared to be listening. Nearly everyone that she could see either had headphones on, or had their curtains drawn.

She glanced back at you and settled her gaze on the corner of your dark brown blanket.

“Yes,” she admitted. “I found out about it at the same time as you, more or less. Jungkook had, um—he’d talked to Taehyung before he told you.”

“Ah,” you said. “Well, that’s—I’m glad we all know, then.”

Luna noted the imperceptible look in your eyes. She wasn’t sure if you’d meant what you said.

Really, you weren’t sure, either. On the one hand, you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to retell what had happened to your friend. You weren’t sure you’d manage.

But on the other hand, the fact that other people knew about the bet did not feel particularly comforting—because this was one of the situations that you’d been desperate to avoid: your relationship with Jungkook getting so out of hand that the people around you began to talk about it.

However, you had been thinking a lot in the last few days and you realised that learning about the bet had helped you find some relief, too.

There was something bothering you for weeks now, something that was off in your surroundings, and now you finally knew what it was. It felt like a crooked picture frame on the wall. Like a non-alphabetical arrangement of books on a shelf. Like a bet about your relationship.

And now that you knew, the world had realigned again. You would have been able to breathe easier if you weren’t so embarrassed that other members of your team also knew about it.

“Well, aside from that,” Luna went on, keeping a careful eye on any changes in your expression. “I talked to Jungkook today. And I’m not defending him—”

“If you say ‘but’ next,” you interrupted, “that will negate your point, you know.”

“However,” Luna said instead and you rolled your eyes. “I think the bet is only half the picture. I mean, it’s shit. He fucked up. But I think that he’s been with you because he really wanted to be. Not because of the bet.”

If you had shaken your head any more vigorously, it might have flown off. Luna was slightly annoyed by your adamant rejection of everything she was saying—which made it easier for her to tell you the news.

“He fought Sid,” she said.

You frowned. “So?”

“Knocked his tooth out, I think.”

Your frown turned into shock as your eyebrows shot up nearly all the way to your hairline. When Luna said that they fought, you obviously did not expect it to be a physical altercation.

“They fought?”  you repeated.

“Yeah. Because Sid can’t keep his mouth shut,” she said. “Jungkook loathes the guy. I don’t know what sort of friendship they had before, but there’s none of that left. If I hadn’t walked in, I don’t know—I mean, he—he hates him.” Luna swallowed here, figuring that additional details might make it harder for her to make her point. “But more than that, it looked to me like Jungkook just hates himself. Now, what you want to do next, that’s up to you. I just wanted to tell you what I thought. I talked to him. He was miserable.”

“Well.” You swallowed. “He lost the bet.”

“Not about the bet. He has feelings for you. Real feelings.”

“How—”

“Don’t ask me how I know that,” she cut you off before you could ask exactly that. “These things you can just see. And it’s especially obvious in him. Because, look… Here are the facts. He had the option to keep the bet a secret from you. Or he could have gotten back together with you and won the bet. If not, he could have waited for this to pass, or until his friends told you. But he was the one who told you that he fucked up. That’s got to count for something. It’s okay if it’s not enough. But it—well, it sort of feels like a start. Because he finally got it through his thick head that this is what matters. You. He loves you.”

Your skin shivered—an automatic reaction to these words—but you scoffed. “And knocking out Sid’s tooth is a way to show it.”

Luna groaned and was about to protest, but you stopped her by shaking your head again.

“Luna—I mean—thank you, but… this is the same shit again,” you said. “The exact same shit that made us break up the first time. Except now, there’s so much more at stake. It’s no longer just about us.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Is it, really? I mean, I understand why you would think that, considering your—uh, your job. But it’s… Really, it’s just you. The two of you. As it’s always been.”

You sighed and pulled the sleeves of your turtleneck down until you could hide your fists in them. You kept your gaze on the blanket beneath you—undoubtedly disagreeing with her again—and Luna let out a soft, tired breath.

“I’m—whatever you do next, I’ll be on your side,” she said. “If you walk away, I walk away. It’s simple. I just think it’d do you two good to talk this out. When you’re ready. So that you would know what you’re walking away from.”

You were starting to shake your head again, but stopped abruptly, realising the futility of it. You weren’t actually disagreeing with Luna’s point, after all.

“It would be good,” you said. “But I don’t want to talk to him about this. This was a mistake from the very beginning.”

“So… what, then?” she asked, worried about the burden of even more unresolved feelings that you would have to carry around every day if you allowed this to linger. If this became another thing that you never talked to anyone about. “You think you can just go back to the way things were?”

“No,” you said. “Because I’m still very annoyed. But after that, then yeah. Ideally.”

Luna tried to conceal her skepticism, but it was evident in the way she sucked in her lips and nodded her head. “Okay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the optimism?”

She sighed and turned to face you again.

“I get it,” she said. “I understand why you don’t want to see him right now. But I also… kind of understand why he did what he did.”

Your eyebrows rose again. “Why he made the bet?”

“No,” she said, raising her index finger and closing her eyes to emphasise her point. “Not that. That I don’t understand. I meant the fight with Sid. Sid is a big reason why you’re in this situation and Jungkook had no other choice left. He got into that fight because he’s shit at choosing friends, but he loves you.”

You ran your tongue over your lips and looked back down at your blanket. “I don’t know which one of those things outweighs the other one.”

“Yeah, well, think about that,” she said. “Then talk to him.”

You were both aware that giving this advice was much easier than actually following it, and a silent minute passed without either of you looking at each other as you pondered the future.

“Nick texted me,” you said suddenly. You hadn’t realised how much his message weighed on you until you told her. “Just to check in. And, uh, to remind me of his—his offer.”

Luna did not like this, and she was glad you weren’t looking at her and didn’t see the expression on her face.

“What did you tell him?” she asked.

“I told him I’m still thinking about it.”

You felt Luna shifting her weight and fidgeting on the bunk next to you. She was uncomfortable, you could tell.

“You’re, uh… you’re really thinking about this, then?” she asked.

You threw your head back and rested it on the pillow. “I’m thinking about a lot these days.”

“Well, that’s—that’s good. Right?” she said, quietly hoping that your contemplations would eventually lead you to a decision that would cause you less suffering. She didn’t think leaving Rated Riot was that decision. You had made a family here. “Take your time with these things. Really think them through. Avoid everyone for a short while if that’s what you need.”

“Hmm. How can I avoid everyone, though?” you asked dryly. “If Jungkook got into a fight, I need to see him.”

“Ah.” Luna finally looked at you, feeling guilty somehow, as if she was the one who had punched him. “Yeah, that’s probably true. He, um—it’s not a disaster, but he did miss a couple of, uh—”

“Is he bleeding?” you asked, appreciating her effort to convey the situation without causing you alarm, but also without downplaying it.

“Well, not anymore,” she said. “At least, he wasn’t the last time I saw him. There is a, um—a black eye situation, though.”

You groaned and dropped your hands on the mattress in irritation.

“Fuck—you see? He’s doing it again. Leaving me no choice but to—oh, fuck it.” You slapped your hands on your knees and sat up straight. “He’ll have to wait until we arrive at the airport. I’m done jumping at the slightest sound he makes, manager or not.”

“I agree with that,” Luna said. ��But I see that you don’t really mean it.”

You closed your eyes. “I have to mean it. I know it’s my job, and I know Jungkook never forced me into anything I didn’t consent to, but he just—this whole time, he acted like he was genuine when he was just doing what he always does. Playing along with Sid’s sick little games. Maybe he deserves to bleed a little for that.”

Luna was about to argue, but only nodded. She was very glad you were talking about this, even though you had dismissed everything she’d told you about Jungkook’s feelings.

She knew that you needed more time. You’d heard her. You just had to be in the right frame of mind to believe her.

She knew you’d get there, just as she knew Jungkook was not going to give up on you.

“Yeah,” Luna finally said. “He can wait. Do you... want to talk about it? About what he did?”

You looked murderous. “Absolutely not.”

She expected as much.

“Well, in that case,” she pulled her phone out, “you want to see something that Crowley did to my mum’s curtains? She took a video to show me.”

Your tension seemed to fade straight away. Luna’s troublemaker cat—named aptly after a Supernatural character with a redemption arc that Crowley, the cat, could only dream about—had never failed to ease your mind.

You needed some time alone. And you were very happy to be alone with her as she stretched out on the mattress next to you and played the video on her phone.

You caught glimpses of Jungkook and his heavy sunglasses on the way to your gate at the airport, but you didn’t have the time to check how bad he looked. The other Rated Riot members had already smacked him on the back of his head after they saw his band-aids, so you decided to wait until you could talk to him in private.

About an hour later, you spotted him going to the men’s room. You waited a few minutes and stood up, too.

The restroom was empty except for the two of you, and you quietly placed your carry-on bag on the ground next to the door. Jungkook hadn’t even noticed you enter.

“There you are,” you announced from the doorway.

Jungkook flinched and splashed himself as he washed his hands in front of the wall-sized mirror.

“You were—were you looking for me?” he asked. The automatic sink stopped and he moved his hands back under the faucet to get the water running again.

“I’ve been informed you have a black eye,” you said, coming closer. “I wanted to check the damage myself.”

The side of his face that was visible to you showed no signs of injury, but when you looked at his reflection in the mirror, you saw the red and purple bruises on the side of his face, concealed by a few persistent band-aids.

Jungkook swallowed and shook his hands several times to dry them. Then, he stepped back, allowing you to examine him. “Well, here I am.”

“Here you are,” you repeated. His gaze remained fixed on yours as you scanned his features. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Not really,” he said. “Want to tell me if you’re leaving to work with Reconnaissance?”

“Not really.”

He pursed his lips. “Well, then. Can I ask—”

“No,” you said immediately. He stopped speaking and clenched his jaw.

You were contemplating if you should have taken him to the hospital before the flight. You were also thinking about what to do with his bruises tomorrow since he had a performance, and appearing on stage with a black eye did not seem particularly professional.

“Does it hurt?” you asked. “These band-aids—did you change them?”

“No,” he said. It wasn’t clear which question he was responding to, but his answer seemed to fit both.

“You need to change them,” you said. “And clean the wounds properly.”

“I’m not going to a hospital.”

You sighed. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not that bad,” he said.

You looked back at the band-aids on the side of his face. They remained on his skin through the sheer force of will. Cuts and bruises peeked from underneath the dried blood.

“It looks bad with band-aids on,” you said. “I can only imagine what it looks like without.”

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “Luna said so.”

You knew right away that this was impossible; Luna would have known better.

“She said no such thing,” you replied.

“Okay, maybe she didn’t,” he conceded with a quiet groan. “But I’m still not going to the hospital.”

The irony of the moment—and how you’d insisted that you were okay a few days ago, just like he was doing now—was completely lost on you. You felt exhausted.

“Why…” you started to say, then sighed as you brought your fingers over your closed eyes. “Why are you making me do this?”

“Do what?”

“Clean your self-destructive wounds.”

“They’re not self-destructive—”

“Really?” Your eyes shot open, ablaze with agitation. “So, getting punched by Sid was, what? A fight for dominance that you’d planned in advance?”

He cleared his throat with indignation and continued his previous statement, “and I’m not making you clean my wounds. I’m fine.”

“Sit down,” you said, turning to grab your carry-on bag. “You’re not fine.”

Awkwardly swaying in the same spot, Jungkook looked around. “Where do you want me to sit? We’re in a public bathroom.”

“Jesus, Jungkook!” you groaned irritably. You were too tired to think of every little detail, every action, and reaction. You just wanted to take a nap on the plane. “I don’t care. Sit on the floor. Or on the toilet.”

“Neither seems sterile…”

“Good thing you didn’t get punched in the ass, then.”

He huffed but still went into one of the cubicles, lowered the toilet lid with a scrunched nose and sat down on it.

He leaned over to hold the door open with his hand until you entered a few minutes later. Before either of you could grasp how small the space was now that you were in the closed cubicle, you took out the antiseptic spray from your amateur medical kit and grabbed a cotton pad. By that point, Jungkook was too worried about what you’d do to think about how close you were.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

Concerned, he watched you pull a blue latex glove on one of your hands and spray the antiseptic into the air, aiming it at the floor to test it.

“No,” you admitted, taking a step towards him and stopping between his legs. With your gloved hand, you carefully peeled off the heavy band-aids from his face and tossed them into an empty plastic bag you’d brought for this specific purpose. “But neither did you when you picked a fight with Sid, so I think we’re even.”

He grimaced as the exposed lacerations on his skin immediately began to sting. “W-what makes you think I was the one who started that fight?”

“The fact that you won’t tell me what it was about,” you replied, bending your knees slightly to inspect his face. You were willing to help him look after his wounds, but changing the bandages was as far as you’d go—if he needed stitches, you’d drag him to the nearest emergency room.

“You know what it was about,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.

“I don’t.”

He didn’t want to say it. You knew he didn’t want to say it—that was why you were making him do it.

“It started about the bet,” he admitted finally. “But then he… said some things I didn’t like. Not that I liked what he said about the bet, either. But I got myself into that mess, so I—”

“What did he say?” you asked, interrupting his diversion.

You covered his left eye with a cotton pad to protect it, shook the bottle of antiseptic a few times, and sprayed it on the exposed wounds.

Jungkook winced as he felt the stinging pain grow sharper. He clutched the lid of the toilet seat, forgetting all about how he’d avoided touching it before.

“Just… some bullshit about you,” he said through clenched teeth.

Surprised, you pulled back to look at him. “He said something about me?”

“Yeah. So I socked him in the cheek.”

You watched him for a quiet minute.

Honestly, if Sid had said something about you, you probably would have punched him yourself if Jungkook hadn’t. But the way Jungkook phrased this—and this whole situation, in general—was so ridiculous that you had to bite the inside of your cheek to maintain a straight face.

“In the mouth,” you corrected. “Or so I hear.”

Jungkook couldn’t subdue the smile on his lips at the amusement that you tried very hard to hide. So, you knew about Sid’s tooth then.

“That was after he wouldn’t stop talking,” he said.

“Ah. Well,” you returned to work and gently patted his cheek with the cotton pad to remove the excess antiseptic, “I appreciate you defending my honour.”

“You don’t sound like it.”

You scoffed. “What do you want me to do? Jump on your white horse and ride off into the sunset with you?”

The light-hearted tone of your voice suddenly amplified your close proximity—he felt his legs tremble slightly as you stood between them to reach his face better. He wanted to reach out and wrap himself around you, to thank you, and to apologise again.

Instead, he cleared his throat and lowered his gaze.

“Well, that’d be nice,” he muttered. Then, added louder, “or, at the very least, you could stop burning me.”

“I’m disinfecting,” you said as you leaned in again, checking if the spray had absorbed into his bruises yet. His breath caught in his throat. You added, “I think.”

Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever felt a longing so intense that it could overshadow all physical pain.

“You think,” he repeated breathlessly. “Th—that’s reassuring.”

“It’s what my mum used to use when my brother and I would get cuts or scratches, and things like that,” you explained defensively. “Of course, this is hardly a scratch in your case, but I have nothing better to offer.”

He didn’t mean to come across as accusatory. He didn’t know what he was saying at all. You still smelled like apples. He was afraid he would pass out.

“This is fine,” he said.

He knew that you were already doing more than your job description entailed and your personal relationship permitted, and he was grateful for it. He hadn’t meant to cause you any additional problems, and he wanted to inform you of the steps he’d taken to fix the ones he’d already caused.

He waited until you had finished searching through your medical kit before speaking again.

“I, um—I banned Sid from Rated Riot shows,” he said.

You turned to look at him so quickly that a tired muscle in your neck spasmed in protest. “What?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Mick will take care of it if he shows up.”

“Mick—you banned Sid?”

“I banned Sid,” he repeated slowly, giving you a minute to process the news. “It’s done. I don’t—I never should have brought him to Europe with me.”

You straightened and attempted to compose yourself, but your mind was suddenly bombarding you with question marks and software errors every time you tried to form a coherent thought.

“Well, that’s—that’s right,” you finally said, clearing your throat. “And it’s about time you realised that.”

You didn’t know what else to say. Congratulating him right now, considering the repercussions of his last confrontation with Sid, seemed in poor taste.

Not to mention, you were a little confounded. After your last argument outside the bus, you’d expected a lot of drunk nights and a lot of new mayhem that you would have to put back in order. You weren’t expecting mature decisions.

Jungkook didn’t notice the utter shock in your voice, however, because his pulse tried to deafen him with a dreadful paranoia, telling him that this was too little and too late.

Notenough-notenough-notenough, the beat of his heart echoed in his ears.

“I know,” Jungkook said, louder than he’d intended. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

You pulled out a new cotton pad and mumbled something under your breath.

Jungkook gazed up at you as you hovered over him with your medical kit. “Can I—can I ask you something, though?”

You gently wiped the side of his temple where the antiseptic had dripped, all while trying to calm down the chaos in your mind. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Reconnaissance?”

There was a long pause as you returned to your kit—more for the purpose of giving yourself some time to think rather than out of necessity.

“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I wasn’t seriously considering it, and it never came up in a casual conversation.”

“We spent three days in Amsterdam, just the two of us,” he said. “How could it not come up?”

You gave him a look. “Really? You think you can ask me that when you knew—and participated—in the bet for weeks before telling me about it?”

Jungkook looked down. “It wasn’t weeks...”

“Well, fantastic.”

Unsettled by your sarcasm, he added, “and I told you, eventually.”

“No, I actually guessed it before you told me,” you said with one hand on your hip as you gazed at the restroom wall behind him, deep in thought. “I told you that you were only acting like that because of some external force. And you really were doing it to win a—”

“No.” He shook his head so fiercely that you almost worried he’d injure himself more. “The bet gave me a push. But I wanted you all along, and—”

“No,” you disagreed, turning away to throw the used cotton pads into the plastic bag. “You—just—just don’t.”

He already knew that this would be the wrong thing to say before he even said it. He simply couldn’t control himself—but he tried to now.

“I’m just—I’m trying to say that this hurt me, too,” he said slowly. “You’re—you might leave to work with a different band. A-and I was the only one who didn’t know about that.”

“I—”

“I know,” he continued louder, “that this is not the same as what I did. It’s not even close. But I still—I feel like this should have been something you talked to me about.”

You sighed and grabbed a glass bottle of iodine-based ointment from your bag. “It probably was.”

“Are you really considering it?” he asked. “Leaving, I mean.”

So much had changed since you told Maggie and Luna that you’d stay, and repeated the same to Yoongi and Namjoon.

All you could say to Jungkook now was a dejected, “I don’t know.”

The tight grip of pain around his chest did not ease, but he didn’t expect it to. Not yet, at least.

“I’m truly sorry,” he said, lifting his gaze. Both of you quickly averted your eyes as if the eye contact burnt. “For this and… for everything.”

You nodded in acknowledgement of the apology but did not reply to it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Reconnaissance,” you said instead. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

He nodded back and you continued to work in silence. You were glad that your current task required your full attention, so you did not have to linger on how wounded he looked—not just physically, but somehow intrinsically, too. If you glanced at him, all the tears and cuts and bruises on his heart would have been as visible as they were on his face.

You applied the ointment to his temple now that the antiseptic had dried—and Jungkook clenched his teeth again, keeping the painful hiss contained. The ointment was probably excessive, and it might dye his skin an odd shade of purple, but you didn’t know what else to do.

When you looked closer, his cuts didn’t appear deep enough to require stitches, so all you could do at the moment was ensure they didn’t become infected – and this questionable procedure should have accomplished that.

You pressed some gauze to the more severe wounds and bandaged them—as much as you could. You used smaller band-aids for the less serious cuts. Then, you stepped back to look.

This would need work. He looked like he slammed the side of his head into a wall and a toddler had attempted to provide first aid.

“This should hold for now before I come up with something else,” you said. “I have to go. I’ll need to find a way to incorporate this,” you gestured around his face, “into your look for tomorrow’s show.”

You turned to push the cubicle door open, then stopped short when you felt his cold, tentative fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Wait,” he said, releasing your hand as soon as he noticed you looking down at his grip. “Just… just tell me what’s going to happen.”

“With your face?” you asked with a confused frown. “It’s going to hurt for a while probably, but it—”

“With us,” he cut you off.

You looked away, maintaining your posture even as your heart refused to listen to your mind and proceeded to pound furiously in your chest.

“There’s no ‘us’,” you said.

“You can’t say that.” He stood up and suddenly reduced the empty space between you in the cubicle. “Not after everything that happened.”

‘Everything that happened’ seemed to have a bitter flavour—he could see the distaste on your face as your tongue prodded your cheek.

“It was obviously a mistake,” you said.

You remembered it all, you knew what it meant. But you didn’t want to trust any of the moments in your memory.

Jungkook could taste your bitterness in his own mouth.

You added ruthlessly, “and it’s over.”

“What’s over?” he asked. He tried to place a hand on his hip, but his trembling fingers slid down his hoodie and his hand dropped to his side.

“Whatever this is,” you said, and each of your following words felt like a new scratch deep inside of him. “Whatever you were doing to win your bet, and whatever I was stupidly playing along with.”

There was nothing but a few breaths separating the two of you in this cubicle, yet you may as well have been in a different orbit entirely. Desperate, Jungkook raised his hands to the back of his head and intertwined his fingers.

“I wasn’t—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he protested—not for the first time. With one more shake of your head, you turned around and pushed the door of the cubicle open. “Look, wait! I’m sorr—”

“It’s over, Jungkook,” you said, pausing halfway. “Stop.”

“How can it—I don’t—just—just tell me this one thing, okay? Before you go,” he pleaded, following you out of the cubicle and watching you toss your medical kit into your carry-on.

There was a hint of sadness in your eyes when you looked up. “What?”

“If there was no bet, wou—would you have agreed to be with me again?”

Your pulse reverberated in your mind, shrieking and piercing, as you shook your head and turned away.

“If there was no bet,” you said, “you wouldn’t have even wanted to be with me again.”

For a minute, you both watched the floor in thick, pain-coated silence. It consumed you, this otherworldly quietness—your thoughts stilled, even your bodies seemed to pause and wait.

That wasn’t true, Jungkook wanted to say—and should have said. But he was so tired of saying things and having to defend them, to prove he meant them.

He wondered if there was anything he could say to you from this point on that you would believe. He loved you so much—he’s never loved anyone else, the very idea of it did not seem possible—yet he made you think he wasn’t serious.

He watched you leave—again—and felt his chest shrink to accommodate the slowing of his heartbeat—again, again—as he struggled to inhale, let alone open his mouth—again, again, again—realising, slowly, that there might not be enough words in existence to fix this.

“I love you,” he still tried, but the restroom door had already closed and he wasn’t sure if you’d heard him. Or if it made a difference if you did.

There was something very ironic about the plans you had for the rest of the day once the plane landed in Manchester.

The concert was originally scheduled for tomorrow, but the venue had suffered a flood from a broken pipe a few nights ago, causing everything that the organisers had promised you to be ruined. They tried to fix it, but they needed some more time. You found out on the plane that the concert would have to be postponed until the day after tomorrow.

To make matters worse, Ren, the bassist of Poison Tongue—Rated Riot’s opening act—had broken his foot at the airport (you were afraid to ask how) and was hospitalised, rendering the band incapable of performing. You needed to find a replacement on extremely short notice.

This was a crisis, but only another one of many. You hadn’t slept at all on the plane, but despite your pounding headache, you were grateful for a chance to keep busy, and you had a precise plan of action.

You would find the venue staff and direct them to Seokjin—after checking if Seokjin was even here.

Next, you would make sure the equipment arrived safely and unpacking it at the damaged venue did not pose any risk to your team.

After that, you would seek Maggie’s help with an online ad for a new opening act.

Then, you would call the label and sweet-talk them before the inevitable black-eye pictures.

You would also devise a plan to handle the aforementioned black eye, which, hopefully, will have improved by the time of the concert.

And, most importantly, you would avoid Jungkook.

Really, the plan was almost foolproof. You figured your to-do list would continue to expand, even after you completed certain tasks, so you essentially had no chance of being left alone with your thoughts or accidentally running into him.

But then, on your way out of the band’s dressing room, you noticed that your surroundings were spinning more than usual. It happened occasionally, this abrupt lightheadedness after you stood up too quickly. But this time, it persisted even after you crossed the corridor.

You tried to tell yourself that this wasn’t anything new, you were just overwhelmed. This had to be the stress—you hadn’t slept and you had so much to do that it was normal to feel dizzy.

You kept walking. Until you had to trace your hand along the patterns of the wallpaper on the wall to stay steady. Until the edges of your vision blurred. Until the wet floorboards beneath your feet wobbled. Until the room grew dark.

You thought you could feel yourself leaning against the wall and slowly lowering your body to the floor. You thought you could feel the damp floor under your fingertips. You thought you could hear someone’s voice in the distance.

For a split moment before you collapsed, it occurred to you that you were really very tired. And that Jungkook had warned you about having another fainting spell if you weren’t careful.

But then your heart rate restricted the flow of blood to your brain, and there was not a single conscious thought left in your vacant mind.

As it happened sometimes—coincidences, unless you treated them as signs—Jungkook was the one who found you.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “blood sport”

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#jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook reactions #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #rockstar jungkook #jungkook au #bts au #rockstar bts au #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts angst #bts imagines #jungkook x you

[alphabetboyluvr]

HUSH | MYG - ONE

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 17.5k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

hush is written in two formats: messaging transcripts and my regular writing style

warnings: we're sexting, straight off the bat!! love that for our hush couple!! allusions to sending nudes, mentions of blueballing lmao, sex toys, general masturbation malarky, mentions of ass play <33, they video call during finales (back camera only!!!), yoongi has a massive cock, like im talking humongous, so BIG (and factually accurate!!) they're switchy aka he tries dom and she's too much of a brat that he folds, he is whiney and needy and obsessed, and she enjoys that! you get to fill in the gaps as if you're really sexting him, lucky you <33 there's also exactly (1) near foot job, a needy jk, (1) banana milk mention, a playfight, miscommunication, a mysterious night that will never be mentioned in conversation. oh yeah and yoongi and you don't realise you're sexting one another ! oops!!!! yoongi is uncircumcised cause ik some people care about that?? just my preference when writing, imagine what u like! no *actual* smut in this one... just... much sexting!

before you read: please read these for a little context on the story - the app (x) and the band (x)

minors dni!!!

New Hush Crush in your Secret Circle! D4m0cl3s

10:43PM

D4m0cl3s: hey, stranger

Cl3m3ntin3: well hello there how are you??

D4m0cl3s: i'm all good. yourself?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah, yeah, im all good just tryna figure out this damn app, lmao

D4m0cl3s: you new around these parts?

Cl3m3ntin3: i am indeed you've taken my secret circle virginity lucky you x

D4m0cl3s: oh shit well, i am honoured i can be your guide to all things hush x

Cl3m3ntin3: oh, i seeeeee an expert, are we? ;)

D4m0cl3s: just realised how tragic it is to be a self-proclaimed dating app expert, so... no not an expert just.... well versed?

Cl3m3ntin3: hahaha sureeee so, tell me, mr hush expert, how do these conversations usually go

D4m0cl3s: okay, 1: not an expert and 2: just general chit chat get an idea of what you're both looking for stuff like that

Cl3m3ntin3: 1: keep telling yourself that, babe and 2: what are you looking for?

D4m0cl3s: 1: calling me babe, already? score. 2: a girl who calls me babe.

Cl3m3ntin3: looks like my work here is done, then ;) seeeeeeya x

D4m0cl3s: no don't go stay i think we'll get along tell me what you're looking for

Cl3m3ntin3: a man who begs for my attention so looks like your work here is done, too ;)

D4m0cl3s: well, aren't we just a match made in heaven?

Cl3m3ntin3: hell* definitely a match made in hell

D4m0cl3s: you a sinner?

Cl3m3ntin3: would you like me to be?

D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no

Cl3m3ntin3: shame maybe we are after different things after all

D4m0cl3s: woaaah, i never said that i was just trying to be a gentleman take things slow be respectful

Cl3m3ntin3: it's anonymous, babe i didn't sign up for hush looking to be wined and dined or to be treated like a lady quite the opposite, actually so you don't need to worry about tarnishing your reputation, or whatever your secrets are safe with me ;)

D4m0cl3s: 1. i couldn't give a shit about my reputation and 2. it's just that people are on this app for different reasons don't wanna assume everyone is after the same thing

Cl3m3ntin3: 1. untouchable, are you? and 2. well, im pretty sure you know what i'm here for and if it's not abundantly obvious: nothing serious. it's late, and i'm bored. what's a girl to do in those kinds of situations? play all alone? boringgg. my cards are on the table, damocles you're up.

D4m0cl3s: untouchable...something like that and fine if you really wanna know i'm not looking for a girl to take home to my mother

Cl3m3ntin3: good mothers don't tend to like me all that much

D4m0cl3s: no?

Cl3m3ntin3: nah fathers on the other hand? fucking love me

D4m0cl3s: and you wonder why the mothers hate you?

Cl3m3ntin3: oh, no im fully aware it's because im the only thing that can get their husbands' perpetually flaccid cocks hard :)

D4m0cl3s: jesus christ you really are built for sin, aren't you?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh :) fancy a dance with the devil?

D4m0cl3s: not tonight but you've got me interested

Cl3m3ntin3: </3 can't believe you're blue balling me

D4m0cl3s: trust me im blue balling myself i've got an early schedule in the morning can't stay up all night entertaining some girl on a fucking app ;)

Cl3m3ntin3: okay 1: ouch, if anyone was doing the entertaining, it would be me and 2: prove it

D4m0cl3s: prove it?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh prove that you're blue balling yourself

D4m0cl3s: again, jesus christ you are something else

Cl3m3ntin3: thank you :D now... proof

D4m0cl3s: say please

Cl3m3ntin3: you want me to get down on my knees, too?

D4m0cl3s: would be appreciated

Cl3m3ntin3: fine

D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude, clementine

Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh hate you for this already >:( pretty please could you show me your cock so i know you're hard and not just lying &lt;;33

D4m0cl3s: see, that wasn't so hard, was it? good girl

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: holy shit

D4m0cl3s: i might keep secrets, but i never lie let's talk tomorrow, alright?

Cl3m3ntin3: noted and tomorrow for sure sweet dreams, damocles x

D4m0cl3s: night night, clementine x

[3 Months Later]  KSPO DOME  Seoul, South Korea

♪ // Hush - The Marías

"You'll choke if you're not careful – and how many times do I need to tell you? Put that damn phone away!"

If Park Jimin wasn't so warm in his tone with you—effervescent in his kindness, bubbling over like lightly shaken soda—you'd tell him to kiss your ass.

He stands in the doorway, a pretty smile on his plump lips. There's something about him—his eyes, you think—that subvert all his softness. Makes him quite the menace. If you hadn't been there to witness his high-school bowl cut era, you never would believed it had happened. He's too cool. It transcends his current being. Is effortless. 

In all black, a pair of Chelsea boots soundtrack his arrival no matter where he is. A little scuffed, he's in need of a new pair—but they'll be a post-show bonus treat. From Jimin, to Jimin. Congratulations on a job well done.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, you swallow down the blueberry you'd been holding between your teeth in a dingy backroom of Seoul's KSPO Dome—the venue of choice for The Scouts' final hometown show. The brickwork remains exposed, grey concrete blocks a dull backdrop for the catering tables.

"Sorry mum," you banter, even though you really shouldn't. There's a glint to your eyes beneath the awkward spotlighting that really isn't preferable for the buffet-style display behind you. Fruits, snacks, it's not a bad spread—but it's got nothing on the rider you know The Scouts ask for ahead of every show.

But why shouldn't they? What the boys want, the boys get – and they've worked damn hard to get it.

He nods towards the lanyard around your neck and reminds you of this, then holds up his.

Park Jimin, it reads. Senior Tour Manager.

"Not on the clock, trouble. I'm still your boss."

"And don't I know it," you offer him a smile, still not a huge fan of the dynamic the pair of you portray at work.

You've known Jimin since the tooth fairy was leaving coins under his pillow. It's sorta hard to take him seriously when you've experienced as much life together as you have.

The way he groans when you reach for yet another blueberry is testament to the friendship you share; the kind of found siblings written about in books but rarely found in reality. There's a sanctity there. He's got your back, and he knows you'll always pick up the slack when he needs you to.

For all your difficulties in the short-term, he knows you pull it out of the bag come the time results are needed.

Knocking the blueberry into your mouth with a grin, you use your tongue to toss it to your back teeth. It's a teeny tiny little fruit. You're pretty sure you could swallow it whole without repercussion.

In fact, the reason you were so engrossed in your phone is because you were about to start a discussion with a... friend about something else you could swallow, instead – but you won't tell Jimin that. He'd throw up, probably, and then it'd be your job to clean it up.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, locking your phone and tucking it into your back pocket. "Sorry boss. Where do you need me?"

He narrows his eyes at your sarcastic use of formalities, but knows when to pick his battles with you. Instead, he knocks his head to the side and heads for the doorway, indicating for you to follow suit.

Just like he knows when to pick his battles with you, you also know when to pick yours with him.

"You've a job that people would likely kill for," he ribs, not really minding all that much. It's downtime between the off-stage rush, so there really isn't all that much to be doing—but you could at least pretend to make it look like you're working your ass off. "But you're too busy on your bloody phone. Head to hair and make-up. The next VCR segment is smaller so I need you in position pronto."

"Sure, sure," you nod like a bobbing head figurine, stealing a handful of blueberries from the catering table and heading on your way.

Jimin watches on with a curious sense of bewilderment. You're the best runner they have, by quite some margin, but also seemingly the one that's least eager to please—and by doing so, they seem to like you even more. It's an odd paradox, but it is one that you use to your advantage. Play a little dumb; wow them all when you continually and quite impressively exceed their expectations. Work smarter, not harder.

It's a work ethic that runs in the family. They shouldn't be surprised by it, not really.

The corridor you head down is flanked by sterile white lights. The only thing that's brighter are the faux smiles of entertainment execs and slimy media men, who are all after their fifteen minutes of favour—because it's not fame they'll get by rubbing shoulders with the boys on stage; it's a boost up. Something to talk big about in board room meetings. 

A humble brag; a subtle flex, that is neither humble nor subtle.

Your lanyard taps against the buckle of your belt as you jog towards the stage. A cute little pat-pat-pat and jingle of keys from your beltloop soundtracks it, which you're thankful for. It covers the heavy breathing.

Just shy of the staircase leading up to the platform, which is almost shaking from the exertion of the performers on it, you hanger left into the room beside the dressing room.

While the dressing room is a dingy, theatrical maximalist's dream, the make-up department has a shell for a room. Bright white lights are overhead, to make sure the boys look amazing—which they always do regardless. Personally, you think this is all overkill. Takes away some of the authenticity. People swoon for The Scouts and the fact they're walking, talking hot messes. When the 'mess' is carefully applied with tiny brushes and kept in place with setting spray, it just doesn't hit the same.

Still, the fans are none the wiser, so who cares? Let them think Jeon Jungkook has flawless skin after an all-night bender.

Annoyingly, he normally does – but that's beyond the point.

"Here she is," Jinyu grins as you walk through the door with a little huff, immediately picking up a setlist by the door to fan your face.

Ethereal as usual, hair pulled back with a claw clip and a grown-out fringe framing her delicate features, Jinyu's mask pulled down to rest beneath her chin. A make-up brush is tucked behind her ear and half a dozen hair grips are biting onto the sleeve of her shirt, ready for the rush that will come with the next VCR break.

At least one of you is, you think.

She always is, though. Best of the bunch, she's the senior make-up artist, and has an example to lead by.

The rest of the make-up artists sit together in the far corner, nattering amongst themselves with far more animation than their hushed tones should really allow for. It's not an uncommon occurrence.

They like to pretend that they don't want anyone to know their business, but you've heard it all.

You could share, in quite some detail, how Jungkook likes to look at his regular make-up artist's lips whenever she's applying balm to his.

Apparently, the tension is 'off the charts', but he's 'too shy to do anything'. Always asks for balm, even when he doesn't need it. Or so she says.

You roll your eyes whenever you hear her brag about it, 'cause you've also heard the conversations that the boys have had behind closed doors. You know that if Jungkook is gonna be after any of the make-up artists, it's Jinyu—but the ring on her fourth finger and the toddler she sometimes brings to work on the quiet days is enough for him to stay away.

The lifestyles lived by The Scouts wouldn't allow for any of them to be playing 'Daddy'—though the girls who've squeezed into their tour bus bunks would probably beg to differ.

It's not just Jungkook who they like to gossip about—although he is the current flavour of the month, ever since he got that bloody lip ring.

In all honesty, you've heard so much shite about all five members that it's a miracle the girls still have jobs.

A new addition to the team since the overwhelming success of the last album run, the record label are keen on The Scouts keeping up their appearances. Gone are the days of sleeping in eyeliner and waking up with panda eyes—now it's carefully placed with precision beneath their tired lashlines, bloodshot eyes still bleary from the night before.

According to the last make-up room rumour mill, Tae is the type to send a late-night text to a handful of girls at once, just to see who bites (of which they all do, of course), and Yoongi is the type to sit silently in the make-up chair, only to make some absurdly unhinged comment as he leaves for the stage.

It's what they're talking about as you and Jinyu exchange glances with comically raised brows and wide eyes.

"Like, the whole time, he must have just been sat there, thinking about it," one of them swoons. "Didn't say a single word, and then just said 'your perfume smells nice, today,' as he was leaving."

The way they giggle makes your skin crawl. It's like they're constantly trying to one-up one another, using the men they work for as tools to do so – and you can't really blame them. As much as you may hate it, it's a man's world, especially in this industry. If you've gotta climb a few greasy poles to reach the top, then more power to those who choose to do so.

"He definitely spent the whole time thinking about it."

"What perfume are you wearing? I wouldn't mind him saying that to me..."

"God, he's such a dream boat."

"Something about him lately is just... ugh, off the charts. We need to stop styling his hair like that. It's too good."

You don't mean to be so judgemental – you've got a pair of eyes. Know exactly why they insist on giggling about their delusions.

Thing is, you can deal with the Jungkook gossip. Tae, Yoongi, Namjoon – whatever.

It's when they start talking about Jin and fail to hide the fact they're doing so that you're reminded of exactly why it grinds your gears so much.

In fact, quite frankly, you've a desire to pick up one of Jinyu's rattail combs and shove it into your ear. Would hope it'd impale your brain. You're not really sure how deep you'd have to go, but it would beat hearing them fawn over your older brother.

You've heard things being said about his hands that no younger sister should ever have to. Quite repulsive, actually.

Instead, you grimace, trying to gain back your breath following your sprint (of which Jimin would call a leisurely pace) up the corridor.

"Why does catering have to be so far from the dressing room?!"

Jinyu watches on with great amusement as you rest your hands on your knees, bending as if you've just run a 10k. Dramatics run in the family, or so it would seem.

"I dunno, babe," Jinyu purrs, her smile present just like it always is, voice a little extra loud to drown out the noise of the witches gathered in the corner. "Why was my favourite runner over in catering in the first place?"

You let your eyes narrow, her teasing grin only serving as a reminder that you really should know better than to keep on going back to the blueberry stash. It's not like you aren't allowed them. They'd all go to waste otherwise, so if anything, you're snacking on behalf of the company.

"You couldda just had them call one of the other runners back," you pout, knowing that it never would have been the case. She likes to make you work a little bit harder than the others, 'cause she knows you feel like you have more to prove.

Jinyu laughs, and passes you some hair grips to hook onto your sleeves for later. "You're the one who said you wanted to establish yourself! What was it you said at the start of these shows?"

You drop down onto the sofa next to her makeup station, tucking your legs up on the seat. The vibration of the music on stage pours through the walls at such a volume you're surprised you can even sustain a conversation.

"I'm gonna show them," Jinyu imitates with far more dramatic flair than you think is really necessary—but it is accurate. "I'll prove to them all that nepotism had nothing to do with me getting hired. Who, me?" She gasps."The baby sister of our very own World Wide Handsome? Hired because my brother pulled some strings? Never!"

"Fuck off," you laugh, tossing one of the sofa pillows towards her—but she catches it with ease because of course she does. Jinyu is everything you could ever aspire to be, hand-eye coordination included. The girls in the corner hush their conversation and begin to take an interest in your conversation. You ignore them, shrugging as you say, "It's not like I have a first-class degree in stage management or anything like that."

Sure, you have the qualifications—but you also aren't stupid. You know that the job is a favour amongst family. The job market these days is non-existent and while being Jin's sibling had afforded you a follower count worthy of an influencer, you need a purpose in life. It's no coincidence that you both showed an interest in the music industry—he's just far better suited to the performance side of it.

It would have been foolish to turn down the opportunity when Jin had mentioned it at a family dinner.

You're low-level, just a runner for now, but it's nice to be somewhere in which people don't give a shit about your famous brother. To most people here, he's a coworker, a colleague.

Outside of work, your entire personality to anyone you first meet is apparently being related to him. In all honestly, it's the same even in a professional capacity. Had started lying on your resume about your name, just so he wasn't the topic of conversation for all of your job interviews.

Remarkably, this is the only job that hasn't cared about him being your brother.

"Whatever you say. That's our cue. Off your arse," Jinyu says, her demeanour switching as the sound of the final chorus begins to simmer down. You don't need to be told twice, getting to your feet and into position beside her. "Can you be my right hand?"

♪ // Only Angel - Harry Styles 

"Sure," you nod, expecting nothing less. It's not much, just putting some hair grips in place while she touches up their stage makeup, and switching out brushes as and when she needs them. Just enough to be helpful without getting in her way.

The girls in the corner follow suit, standing behind their chairs, eager to see the men in all of their sweaty, worn-out glory. They've made no secret of their admiration, which is why Jinyu is such a breath of fresh air. A fair few years older than the boys, she's happily married and doesn't care to swoon over them.

Like a force of nature, The Scouts rumble into the room - lips ajar, chest heaving, hair damp with sweat. 

Jungkook is first, slamming his body down into one of the chairs, in dire need of something other than the piss-warm beer he's got up on stage. Tossing him a bottle of water from the countertop behind you, he catches it with ease. Smirks. Looks at you with all the adrenaline he's stolen from the eyes of the fans that adore him. Legs wide, bottle undone with one hand, there's a challenge to his gaze. Performing is a fuckin' drug to Jeon Jungkook - you just wish he didn't keep such a fucked-out look on that pretty face of his whenever he finishes. 

So yeah, maybe you do get why the girls chitchat in the way that they do. 

The rest of the band follow in, equally trashed, in the best possible way. Taehyung's shirt has miraculously lost all of its buttons, and Namjoon's T-shirt is now slung around his shoulders like a towel. His hair drips with sweat, arms swollen from the exertion of the last few days of shows. 

Behind them, Yoongi strolls with an air of arrogance he carries off ever so well. Indifferent. Just as covered in sweat, but without the entire body exhaustion the other Scouts are displaying. He's too cool for his own good. Doesn't look at you. Looks right through you. Asshole. 

And then finally, presumably because he was too busy flirting with the audience, the Scout Leader himself makes his grand entrance. Plastic cup in hand, he's nursing a Jack and Coke. Doesn't see the point in all this make-up malarky, when he knows he's just gonna sweat it off anyway. Would much rather actually take this time to recharge, even if just for a second. Thought that adding VCR's to shows would allow them more time for that, and is sorely disappointed by the reality of it.

"Fucking hell, has it been raining?" You deadpan when he slinks down into the chair opposite you and Jinyu. "Y'know, you should get some of those sweat-reduction botox injections. Would work wonders."

He looks at you with disdain that clearly tells you to fuck off. He stays silent. Kicks your shin, instead. You kick him right back.

"I swear the pair of you are worse than my two-year-old," Jinyu sighs as she drapes a towel around Jin's shoulders.

"Someone needs to humble him," you shrug.

"Someone needs to fire you," he says right back, not realising that Jinyu had passed you her hair mister, earning himself a spritz of water to the face.

Effective immediately, your hair mister privileges are taken away. Jinyu's pleasant smile looks almost stern as she takes it, putting it down on the dressing table with a thud.

"We've got three minutes," she reminds you.

"Sorry boss," you quip, not wanting her to actually get pissed off at you. There are certain liberties you can take, but you're supposed to be helping her, not a hindrance.

There's subdued energy in the room now that the boys have settled, not wanting to waste their fuel anywhere other than the stage. As you push grips into Jin's hair, ready for hairspray, you watch the room in the mirror view.

Taehyung is on his phone, not paying any attention to what's going on, his makeup artist working silently. Jungkook is patting down his own face with powder while his stylist teases his hair just right.

You look at him for a little too long, his eyes coming to meet yours in the mirror. Despite the pitch-black darkness of his irises, there's a lightness in his gaze—one that has your skin feeling all prickly and hot, eyes darting back down to Jin's hair.

You think you can hear him laughing to himself.

It's confirmed when Jimin waltzes into the room, clipboard in hand and asks, "What's got you giggling, Kook?"

He lies, and says he's thinking about his dog, Bam, just to save you from embarrassment.

You glance back up to where his eyes are already waiting for yours, brows lifted as he smirks. You make vague shapes with your mouth as if you're telling him to 'fuck off,' which only serves to make him laugh again, a little harder this time. He keeps it quiet, shoulders bobbing up and down, his smile magnetic.

It's all in good fun. There's been a running joke for years now that you'll date Jungkook just to piss off Jin.

You already know his make-up artist will twist that moment to her own liking, making up some bullshit about him laughing with her, but it's barely worth your energy.

Beside him, Jimin vies for attention from Yoongi, who looks like he's in need of a good nap. 

There's a sheen to his skin, sweat dripping down his neck thanks to his make-up artists failing to grab him a towel. You call for Jimin's attention, and once you have it, you chuck him one of the spare towels over your shoulder. He tilts his head in confusion, but when you nod towards Yoongi, he understands.

The towel is passed along, a simple 'hm?' from Yoongi to question where it came from. Jimin nods towards you, and Yoongi takes a second to observe what you're doing. You're not looking at him, because quite frankly, he intimidates you.

He never used to.

In fact, you used to get along quite well—but you're vaguely aware of the fact he doesn't approve of nepotism, and knows that the only reason you secured this job is because of Jin.

It makes you feel a little embarrassed. A little ashamed. None of the other boys seem to care, but it puts you on edge with Yoongi. You try extra hard—be extra diligent—with him. He seems to be the one you seek validation from the most, despite him being the one you interact with the least.

In the corner of the room, Taehyung and Namjoon discuss the next song. A change from yesterday's set, they've been switching up songs so that no one really knows what to expect next. Have to keep things fresh. Keep their names trending. Get those streams. Meet industry targets set by suits with no real understanding of what it means to make art.

It's admirable how much they cram into such little time. Masters of their craft, it's an honour to see them work. It's without a doubt that they've earned their success.

You kind of get why Yoongi is hesitant of you. You feel underqualified, as if you haven't worked hard enough to earn the role you've been given—but you have. You have the credentials. Jin opened the door for you, yes, but you're the one who had the key in the first place.

You're distracted by your thoughts when your phone buzzes in your back pocket. The vibration hums just a little bit longer than any of your other app notifications, so you know exactly what it is. Know who it is.

Kind of.

There's a little bit of bashful shame that washes over your features, fearful someone will hear the buzz and recognise its length—not that anyone would notice the soft purr in the back pocket of your jeans, cushioned by your ass. It's just as incognito as the man who's sending you a message is.

Your phone buzzes a few times. Seven, to be precise.

Needy, you think to yourself—but it pleases you. He never fails to disappoint.

Well, rarely. You've been waiting half an hour for a message from him, and it's so bloody typical that it would come through when you're finally busy.

"Positions!" Jimin calls from the corridor, letting the boys know their rest time is up.

Jinyu casts an authoritative eye over the boys, checking to make sure they all look okay before sending them on their way.

"Hair grip," she reminds Jungkook's stylist, who had left a tiny little clip in his fringe. She flusters, embarrassed at missing such a detail, but Jungkook just pulls it from his fringe without much care as he puts his phone back on its wireless charging port.

Namjoon follows suit, reminded that his phone was in his back pocket, tossing it on one of the dressing room tables. Yoongi tucks his phone into a bag by the sofa, and Tae does the same.

They file out in good spirits, hyping one another up for the final part of the show, staff patting their backs and cheering on words of encouragement. It's always bittersweet for them; their final performances are their favourites, but they're also the ones in which they know they'll be saying farewell—and no one likes goodbyes.

You watch with fondness as the stage-cam plays on the TV in the corner of the room. There's something about the five of them together, on stage, surrounded by an ocean of unadulterated love and affection, that feels like watching magic. It's the kind of thing that only happens once in a lifetime. You're thankful you get to witness it in all its glory. You'll probably watch the final few songs from the side of the stage, just to feel even an ounce of what the boys do.

Sinking back into the sofa, the scent of hot, sweaty men clouding the air, you pull your phone from your pocket—and sure enough, you're met with the notifications you've been hoping for.

New Secret from D4m0cl3s D4m0cl3s: late shift tonight, sorry one of the girls on my team made a joke about how tense i seem to be said i need to get laid... i told her she needs to mind her own fucking business but... it also got me thinking about you i finish in an hour give me a reason not to go out and get laid

You smile, as the heat that pricked at your skin when Jungkook caught your eye earlier that evening returns.

Part of you toys with the idea of 'what if it's him?' His phone is face down on its charger, all of his secrets hidden from the world.

Part of you hopes it is, just for the knowledge of it irritating the fuck out of Jin and the girls who are sat in the corner, gossiping about his giggling earlier.

Realistically, you know it's not. It's impossible.

You've been sent enough pictures from your Damocles boy of his hands doing unthinkable things to know it can't be Jungkook. They're free of ink, pristine and pale, a little pink in their tone, and the only clue you have of who the fuck you spend so much time talking to.

"Where are you off to now?!" Jinyu asks as you head for the door, somehow surprised that you're dipping again.

"Catering," you lie, knowing full well you're going to find somewhere private enough to give your Damocles boy exactly what he's after.

"You'll turn into a blueberry," she warns you. You hold back a laugh, and resist the urge to tell her that what you're actually about to turn into is a clementine.

There are half a dozen doors down the corridor, but you slide into the first storage cupboard you come across. It's empty, and there's a lock on it, which is all you really need.

If you'd have stayed in the dressing room, it would have been a tomato you turned into, instead. Your cheeks would flush scarlet red, just like they did when the familiar purr of a Hush notification chimed far too loudly for something that's supposed to be all about keeping secrets.

You'd take a second. Wouldn't want to check your own phone, 'cause then all the girls would know you'd received a message from a hook-up app.

But you're not in the room. Nor is your phone.

And they all hear it regardless.

The girls who gossip pause, wondering if they've all heard the same thing. Jinyu is oblivious, happily married and unaware of what Hush even really is, let alone the vibrate tone.

One, two, three messages ping their way from your phone to his, but you're none the wiser. Haven't got a clue.

It's been three months, and neither one of you has any desire to disclose your identity to the other. You're serving a purpose; fulfilling a need.

Why ruin a good thing?

You aren't 'good', nor opposed to being ruined—but that's neither really here nor there. You've got a system that works, and it would be foolish to change things now.

You return to the dressing room, unaware that your phone isn't the only device within those four walls littered with pictures of your bare chest. In fact, everyone is unaware. It's your own little secret that you don't even realise you're keeping, and one that you intend on taking to the grave.

"No blueberries?" Jinyu asks as you return empty-handed.

"Got distracted," you lie, as you settle back into the sofa, a pleasant air surrounding you. On the screen, the boys are laughing, indulging in the energy of their fans for the final time that evening.

"By?" she presses, curious as to why you're looking all smitten as you watch the screen.

It's got nothing to do with any of them.

Or so you think.

It's actually got a whole lot to do with one of them.

You just don't realise it yet.

And so you simply shrug, and say, "Secret."

"C'mon," Jungkook grins, eyes still swathed by the glow of mobile phone flashlights held up during the encore, even a whole thirty minutes after the show is over. He tugs on your arm, but you remain fixed in place, shaking your head. "We're all going, aren't we?"

The question is addressed to the boys, but he's still looking at you. You wish he wouldn't. Not when he looks like that.

His lips are wet, freshly licked, glistening like his silver lip ring, and his hair is still a little damp around the nape of his neck. There's something about him that looks a lot like magic. It's a wonder you haven't fallen under his spell.

"Uh-huh," Jin nods, tossing back the dregs of his final jack and coke. He's not yet run the rider dry, but it doesn't matter. He'll take the bottle with him, and wherever they end up won't turn them away, for they know he'll buy more – though the bar will likely comp it through. "You can ride with me."

Jungkook's grin widens. He loves it when a plan comes together.

♪ // No Shame - Five Seconds of Summer

"C'mon," Jungkook says again. Is quiet in his tone. Persuasive. "I'll miss you if you're not there."

"Is that supposed to make me feel a certain type of way?" You deadpan. "Try it on one of the makeup girlies. They'll eat it right up."

"Don't wanna try it on one of them," he whines a little, nudging his shoulder against yours. "It's our final show. We're celebrating."

"Your final show," you remind him. "I've got a gig next week. Some European group-"

"Don't care," he says. "You're ours for the night. Come party."

You roll your eyes back so hard it feels like you might have just seen your frontal lobe, but there's a smile on your lips, too. It's nice to feel wanted; appreciated. 

The invite isn't extended to the make-up artists, who are busy packing away, hoping that Jungkook's neediness will shift to them instead. It won't, but they can keep dreaming.

"If I come - and it's a strong if - you're paying," you bargain.

All you really want is to get home as quickly as you possibly can. Had even considered ordering a taxi before the boys had finished their set, but knew Jimin would have a field day with that one. Might even dock your pay just to be a little git.

You've a date with your phone, but the draw of real life is just too tempting.

It's difficult, because you know that you should want to go out, want to celebrate the fact you can actually go out now that the shows are done... but a random dude sending dick pics somehow seems to be more appealing. 

It's tragic, really. Something that you never wanna have to explain. You think you'd rather die. Are shameful of your shamelessness. Ironic.

And right on time, a buzz in your back pocket rumbles through you like a crack of lightning; burns your cheeks a pretty posy pink. 

Jungkook's ignorance of your reaction is a blessing. You're not sure how you would've explained it away - though knowing Jungkook, he'd have used your blush to wind Jin up. Attribute it to himself. Play into the idea of you hooking up with him.

It's not like you've never considered it – but lately, it's been hard to 'consider' anyone other than your Damocles boy.

You're reminded of him now – his thick, pink knuckles, and his notably thicker, marginally less pink cock- and how he said that someone on his team told him he needed to get laid. You can't help but think the same for yourself. 

It's not healthy, the way you're so drawn to the excitement a few pixels can give you. Is stopping you from living your real life.

There's an unease in your stomach; guilt, almost.

So you groan, knock your head back, and concede. "Fine!"

"Attagirl!" Jungkook beams as he pulls his phone from his pocket, checking the time and pushing it back into his jeans again. He reaches over for his bag, the scent of his aftershave catching you off guard. There's something about him... Something you know you should ignore, but are finding harder and harder to do so with each and every passing day. "We good to go?"

"Who else is coming?" You hum, heading to the coat rack to pick up your jacket. Tae is leaning against the door frame, shaking his head.

"Not me. Got a date with my bed," he says, ending his sentence with a yawn. He covers it with the back of his hand, but it's so loud you almost find yourself yawning too.

"Pussy," Jungkook scoffs. "Final show and-"

"Me either," Yoongi says as he walks past, not looking in your direction. The jacket that hangs around his broad shoulders is dark, just like his mood always seems these days.

You're not exactly sure when he decided that you weren't worthy of his time, but you're used to it now. Sucks, but such is life. He's always been a little like this, but it's your first time being on the receiving end of his coldness.

"Hot date with your bed?" You tease, hoping to get a little bit of warmth from him.

As he reaches the door, it surprises you both when he turns to look at you. There's a stillness to him; the slow evaporation of cloudy breaths in sub-zero temperatures. His eyes meet yours, and drop down your body. Pause when they land on your palms, and the phone that's being held in them.

His gaze returns to your eyes, fast quicker this time, and then he shrugs. "Yeah, something like that."

He doesn't wait for a reply. You don't intend on giving him one, either.

"And then there were 5," Jungkook sighs. "Fuck it, let's go."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // Heaven and Back - Chase Atlantic

There's something sordid about the place you're in. Could be the neon lights on the walls, could be the walls lined with stacks upon stacks of old vinyl records. Could be the birdcages where lampshades should be, or it could be the worn-out leather sofas you're on in the corner of the room. Could be the punters, and how they're all wrapped in their own personal brand of sin, too busy to notice the living legends walking amongst them.

Truthfully, it's why the boys like places like this. They become one with the shadows. Can hide. Do things in secret that other people do in public. It's not like they're actively looking for trouble, but they can't help but seem to find it. Whether it be women, drugs, booze, it doesn't matter – they've each got a kryptonite.

Regretfully, you know Jin's: women who are no good for him. Blonde, brunette, foreign, local, he doesn't give a shit. All that matters is they know who he is, and they want him in inexplicable ways.

Credit where it's due, they all have conviction. All get exactly what they want – but he's easy. Sluts himself out for the fun of it; for the novelty of being a 'rockstar'.

It's gotten worse since their last big award show win. He's getting careless. Has never been one to hand out NDAs, but the kind of people he's attracting now really should have gag orders – issue is, Jin's always far more focused on finding out how sensitive their gag reflex is.

Namjoon's is his inability to say 'no'. Afterparty? He's there. Toke on a joint that has no business being in the hands of such a high-profile man? Go on, then. An upper before a show? Don't mind if I do.

It's a disaster waiting to happen. Anywhere else and you wouldn't worry. In the States, it'd be a non-issue. Expected, even.

The laws aren't so forgiving, here. One bad decision and that's it. Jail time. But sir, I'm a rockstar, pwetty pwease let me go, won't work on a court judge, and even if it did, the court of public opinion and trial by social media would run him into the ground regardless.

Unfair? You think so, yes. Just how life goes? Also yes.

Though they all push the limits to a certain extent, it's Jungkook that's the biggest risk of all. He's the youngest. Got girls lining around the block just to have a look at him. Is bad in a way that girls convince themselves is good. I can fix him. All starry-eyed and sex appeal, there's nothing innocent about him. Nothing.

S'why you know better than to indulge in his flirt – because that's all it ever is. A limit to push. A boundary to break. A challenge he wants to win.

In quite the contrast, Taehyung keeps his boundaries watertight. Doesn't stray, doesn't overindulge. Goes home to a partner who'd give him the world, if he asked – but he won't. See, Kim Taehyung already has the world. Not his career (though it could be argued), not his money, not his fame. They're perks, sure – but his world waits up for him with his favourite snacks on the kitchen counter, ready to hear all about the show.

It's only the close circle that knows. The make-up girls don't have a clue. Jinyu is well aware, but not because it's ever been discussed. She just knows. Is intuitive, like that. Probably knows more about the boys' business than even Jimin does – and it's his job to know their business.

Though the boys would argue that Yoongi has no weakness, you believe otherwise.

His Achilles heal is found in his solitude. His laissez-faire attitude to the world around him stunts his enjoyment of it, you think. He's never gonna be in his twenties in the biggest band in the world ever again. These days will pass him by, and he's wasting them.

If he were to know you felt this way, he wouldn't dignify you with a response; he'd just show up to even fewer events to spite you. Has no interest in your unsolicited opinions of him.

Because you're wrong about his weaknesses.

While yes, his solitude exacerbates them, it's the silence that nurtures his weaknesses: his regrets. His inability to forget. Forgive. Let things go. He fixates, and it frustrates him to the point of fury.

His kryptonite is not how little he cares. Quite contrary. It's how violently he does care. That's what ties his shoelaces together and trips him up. Gives him a bloody nose. Scrapes his knees. Leaves him bloodied and bruised; pink in his pain.

But that's your kryptonite: your cocksure arrogance in thinking you know everything.

Or at least, that's what Yoongi would tell you, if he were ever to get into this debate with you.

He won't.

Again, you'll think it's because he's laissez-faire. That he doesn't care.

Regretfully, you'll be wrong – but he's the one who simmers over regrets, not you.

"Alright, alright!" You laugh, a little unsteady on your feet as you stand up after god-knows how many shots. Namjoon reaches out to steady you. Glances at Jin as if to say, 'kids, eh?'

You're all fucked. Have had far too much, but you figure that's what nights like these are for – who cares? You're celebrating.

Jin just smiles. Rolls his eyes, then averts his attention to the blonde by the bar who's gonna take your seat as soon as you leave.

Jungkook doesn't notice, cause he's too busy laughing at you.

"Just gonna run to the bathroom," you declare, as if they need to know such details. "Need to pee."

"Bathrooms just round the other side of the projector screen," Jimin tells you, nodding in its direction, 'cause even though it's after hours and he's far too heavily intoxicated, he can't help but be resourceful. That's his kryptonite. Can never switch off. "Just up the stairs."

It's not even like you need direction. Have been to this bar more times than you've had hot dinners.

Jungkook laughs. Thinks you're full of shit. 

"Your tolerance is going down in your old age," he teases, as if you're not the same age. "Tactical chunders are for the weak."

You tell him to go fuck himself, and he laughs, all hearty and warm.  "Gladly."

Their chatter continues without you. The blonde joins, and so does her friend. Someone's getting lucky tonight, and you're pretty sure it'll be all four of them. Thoughts you'd rather not think, honestly.

Teeny tiny is the bathroom. Cramped. A single cubicle is in working order and the hot tap has been broken for as long as you've been visiting this place. It definitely violates some health and safety codes, but who really gives enough of a shit to report it?

Holding your fingers beneath the already running tap, you check the temperature – as if the hot tap even works – and wait for a moment just to be sure. Icy cold, as always.

Lost in the sensation of the water, you forget for a moment why you're there.

While yeah, you could have a drink from the tap, you could have just gotten water at the bar.

Brain all fuzzy, you can't put your finger on it - until your phone vibrates in your back pocket.

And then suddenly, you remember exactly why you're in the bathroom.

11:37PM

D4m0cl3s: fuck, you look so good such a tease i'll be home as soon as i can be been thinking about you all night

11:58PM

i'm home let me know when you're free

00:16AM

you're taking your precious time tonight

00:21AM

what's the deal, huh? tryna get me all frustrated?

00:23AM

it's working

00:39AM

damn maybe that girl on my team was right maybe i should have just gone out and got laid tonight

01:05AM

really? even me being an asshole isn't working? is it compliments you want? you know i'll give you them

01:28AM

okay so i actually am a bit worried now, let me know when you're home safe, m'kay?

Cl3m3ntin3: you know what they say treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen

D4m0cl3s: FINALLY

Cl3m3ntin3: damn, you really are keen aren't you

D4m0cl3s: you were gone so long i was thinking about watching porn PORN you know how long it's been since i watched porn?

Cl3m3ntin3: if my calculations are correct, about 3 months?

D4m0cl3s: ... you're smart, clem but also so mean, my god got me all riled up and kept me waiting HOURS

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry i'm here now and i'm thinking about you, too

D4m0cl3s: are you still out? at work?

Cl3m3ntin3: uh-huh out not at work, tho

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: fucking hell, clem your tits look so good come here wanna hold them

Cl3m3ntin3: give me an address and i'll get in a taxi right now we can keep the lights off, never have to see each other keep things anon but i gottaaaa feel your hands on my chest

D4m0cl3s: i wish i could wish i could just fuck you like we both know you deserved to be fucked

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not stopping you

D4m0cl3s: we both know that isn't entirely true

Cl3m3ntin3: do we? give me an address doesn't have to be yours hotel sex is always fun

D4m0cl3s: i have a feeling all sex with you will be fun location is irrelevant

Cl3m3ntin3: well i'm currently in a bathroom stall hiding from my friends just so i can reply to you you reckon a bathroom stall would be fun?

D4m0cl3s: i reckon i love a challenge

Cl3m3ntin3: well i mean i could always send you my current location...

D4m0cl3s: tempting... but no.

Cl3m3ntin3: you're your own worst cock block, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: it's called deprivation, baby yanno, kind of like what you did when you kept me waiting for hours gonna make you want me so badly it hurts

Cl3m3ntin3: i already do which is why you should come and put me out of my misery

D4m0cl3s: you're with your friends, you're fine ;) actually you drinking?

Cl3m3ntin3: a little

D4m0cl3s: a little?

Cl3m3ntin3: ...a lottle?

D4m0cl3s: the fact you just said lottle tells me all i need to know lmao you know the drill, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: :((((( noooooo

D4m0cl3s: stop pouting

Cl3m3ntin3: i can't :(((

D4m0cl3s: you can i meant what i said about no drunk messages only want you doing this when your head is clear

Cl3m3ntin3: my head is clear and my head thinks you should stop thinking with yours actually start thinking with your dick instead :)

D4m0cl3s: fine then let's see how clear your head is send me a video of you walking in a straight line

Cl3m3ntin3: you just wanna see my feet perv

D4m0cl3s: video

Cl3m3ntin3: fineeee, fucking fine!

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: oh yeah fuck that clem, you're pissed as a fart hahaha i'm not even sure you tried to walk in a straight line, you wobbly mess cute laugh tho get some water in you go back to your friends we can talk in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: but i wanna talk now :( missed u today

D4m0cl3s: missed u too will miss you tonight but i'll wait

Cl3m3ntin3: :( whyyy do you have to be so good all the time :(

D4m0cl3s: because we both know that the second you send me a picture of your perfect little pussy, i won't be good

Cl3m3ntin3: now?

D4m0cl3s: no, baby in the morning, okay? drink some water.

Cl3m3ntin3: fine

D4m0cl3s: watch your attitude

Cl3m3ntin3: sighhh :((

D4m0cl3s: don't you'll make me feel bad just get yourself home and to bed and you can wake up to this tomorrow...

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: BRB, sprinting home

D4m0cl3s: shut up idiot enjoy your night lemme know when ur home

Cl3m3ntin3: okay :( sweet dreams, damocles boy x

D4m0cl3s: speak soon, clemmie x

D4m0cl3s is offline

08:58AM

D4m0cl3s: morning clemmie

Cl3m3ntin3: hereee he is was wondering when you'd be up

D4m0cl3s: been up ages was wondering if today would finally be the day you message me first ;)

Cl3m3ntin3: why would i ever do that? we both know you can't bear to be away from this chat thread for more than a few hours

D4m0cl3s: your ego never fails to amaze me

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a product of your creation, damocles boy you told me last week that i'm the only thing that gets you hard these days and you expect me not to get an ego?

D4m0cl3s: hope you know that when i actually get to fuck you, there's no room in my bed for your ego

Cl3m3ntin3: oh bite me you're gonna be putty in my hands

D4m0cl3s: i'm really gonna have to fuck the ego out of you, aren't i? get your little attitude problem in check and biting? you into that?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'd like to see you try like i said, this is aaaaall your fault if you can't control yourself over a message thread, how the fuck will you cope when I'm in front of you? and pls i'm gonna be the one fucking you it's cute that you think otherwise stupid <33 but cute :)

D4m0cl3s: i literally hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: you gonna hate me when im on my knees between your legs?

D4m0cl3s: yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i run my tongue up and down that pretty cock of yours?

D4m0cl3s: yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i wrap my lips around your tip? when i take your hard cock in my warm, wet mouth?

D4m0cl3s: yep and yep

Cl3m3ntin3: gonna hate me when i take you so deep my eyes start watering?

D4m0cl3s: uh-huh

Cl3m3ntin3: you're a tough bargainer :(

D4m0cl3s: just means im gonna fuck you like i hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: no you're not :) you're gonna be soooo shy so timid so scared of fucking up because of how badly you want me

D4m0cl3s: the way you're gonna eat your fucking words actually makes me laugh

Cl3m3ntin3: i wanna hear your laugh

D4m0cl3s: you can hear it when you finally fuck me

Cl3m3ntin3: i could have fucked you last night you said no &lt;//3

D4m0cl3s: incorrect i said not when you're drunk

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm a good fuck when im drunk

D4m0cl3s: i'm pretty sure you're a good fuck regardless of your blood alcohol concentration i've seen how you fuck your toys i know you're a good fuck

Cl3m3ntin3: like this?

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: just like that fuck that's it, baby i like that toy what is it? glass? always looks so good when you sink it into your pussy so so wet, fucking hell

Cl3m3ntin3: glass, uh-huh you should get one for yourself

D4m0cl3s: myself?

Cl3m3ntin3: yourself

D4m0cl3s: i'm not sure that's my kinda thing, clemmie

Cl3m3ntin3: only one way to find out plus i remember how hard you came that time i got you to play with your ass a little

D4m0cl3s: shut up omg

Cl3m3ntin3: seeeeee, i'm totally gonna be the one doing the fucking :D

D4m0cl3s: you're not touching my ass

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna eat it :)

D4m0cl3s: you're gonna do no such thing

Cl3m3ntin3: hehe okay whatever you say :D can't wait to say i told you so when you're face down ass up whining about how good my tongue feels :D

D4m0cl3s: and this is exactly why you need the ego fucked out of you never gonna happen

Cl3m3ntin3: you'll be begging for it one day but fineeeee, if u say so tell me how you'd do it, then? how would you fuck the ego (that you gave me!!!) outta me? tell me how you'd ruin me, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: show me your pussy first let me look at how wet you are right now

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: god, look at you if this is how wet you get thinking about eating my ass... we can put it on the maybe list but you'd be on your back, like you are now exactly like that, perfect and spread for me i'd start with my fingers

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

these two i'll push them into you so slowly that you'll be begging for more you'll be all whiney (so no change to normal lmao) but i'll curl them a little, just like you said you like it, and use my thumb to toy with your clit

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: fuck i love it when you send videos i could watch that forever literal cinema the way your pussy leaks for me, christ i wouldn't be able to watch your pussy leak like that without licking it up i'd keep my thumb on your clit, gently circling it as my tongue began to toy with your entrance you'd be so leaky on my tongue wouldn't you? so so fuckin' wet for me

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

it's mutual, just so you know

Cl3m3ntin3: god i fucking love it when your tip gets all wet like that you are soooooo needy you wanna fuck me soooooo bad he he i stay winning!!!

D4m0cl3s: CLEM. CONTROL. YOUR. EGO!!

Cl3m3ntin3: FUCK. IT. OUT. OF. ME!!!!

D4m0cl3s: your ego is so big i think i'll just have to fuck you for hours at this point :/

Cl3m3ntin3: oh no :( such a shame !!! :(

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: just imagine this stretching your tight little pussy open my cock is so much bigger than that dildo

Cl3m3ntin3: can't wait to feel you inside me i know it's gonna hurt but in like... the best possible way you're so big and thick such a nice cock ♡♡

D4m0cl3s: i'll go slow with you baby ease you into it

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

Cl3m3ntin3: you've got me soooo wet i think it'll be easy to push into me fill me up

D4m0cl3s: my needy girl look at you my cock belongs inside you your pussy already belongs to me

Cl3m3ntin3: come and claim it

D4m0cl3s: you're making it harder and harder to say no fuck im close

Cl3m3ntin3: same i wanna watch you cum

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i'll call? we can finish together?

Cl3m3ntin3: please

Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (03 minutes : 14 seconds)

Call ended.

Cl3m3ntin3: nice work

D4m0cl3s: pleasure doing business

Cl3m3ntin3: as always i totally heard that little giggle tho ;)

D4m0cl3s: fuck off what giggle

Cl3m3ntin3: the one you did after you came all over your tummy :)♡♡

D4m0cl3s: never giggled in my life ever

Cl3m3ntin3: liar x

D4m0cl3s: i only laughed cause you did too >:(

Cl3m3ntin3: and i only laughed cause of how hard you made me cum you've got a gift, damocles boy

D4m0cl3s: and you've got the nicest pussy i've ever seen in my whole entire life

Cl3m3ntin3: you have to use a dating app to get your rocks off deffo a virgin :/ never seen a pussy before in your life :/ not much competition to compare me to, is there? :/

D4m0cl3s: i really do mean it when i say i hate you :) x

Cl3m3ntin3: i know you do babe

D4m0cl3s: wish we were never matched, actually

Cl3m3ntin3: same might just block you actually

D4m0cl3s: PLEASE put me out of my misery

Cl3m3ntin3: okay :D bye forever :D

D4m0cl3s: wait no don't :(

Cl3m3ntin3: you're a bloody seesaw boy always up and down either hate me or love me make up your mind !!

D4m0cl3s: lmao you've no idea but where's the fun in that? i like keeping you on your toes

Cl3m3ntin3: true i gotta run tho got a date with a real boy seeyaaaa x

D4m0cl3s: wooooah wait wait a date?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah with someone in like.. real life... problem?

D4m0cl3s: no problem just surprised that's all

Cl3m3ntin3: that someone would want to date me?

D4m0cl3s: no that you'd want to date someone else

Cl3m3ntin3: breaking news: girl in her early twenties wants more than nudes from a stranger on the internet

D4m0cl3s: fair enough probably shouldn't continue this, then a heads up would have been nice

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna stop?

D4m0cl3s: no no, i really don't, clem but you're right you do deserve more

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah i do

D4m0cl3s: i actually hate this wtf like i know you can do what you like and i can do what i like but i thought we had something good going?

Cl3m3ntin3: we do thank god i'm just lying about a date for attention :) &lt;3

D4m0cl3s: what the fuck clem

Cl3m3ntin3: made you shit your pants didn't i

D4m0cl3s: CLEM.

Cl3m3ntin3: DAMOCLES BOY.

D4m0cl3s: so you're not going on a date?

Cl3m3ntin3: no you idiot you think i have enough time to be meeting new people when i spend all my free time sending you nudes? was just fucking with you wanted to see if you cared

D4m0cl3s: you could have just asked

Cl3m3ntin3: you'd have told me you hate me

D4m0cl3s: BECAUSE I DO you're actually mental

Cl3m3ntin3: he he u luv it

D4m0cl3s: i don't

Cl3m3ntin3: do basically started crying when you thought someone else might take your place

D4m0cl3s: you didn't even give me a chance to clean myself up you fucking menace !! just made me cum and then did a 180 what did you expect me to do?! you know how sad my dick looks right now?

Cl3m3ntin3: no show me

D4m0cl3s: get fucked you little cretin

Cl3m3ntin3: let me see your sad cock :(

D4m0cl3s: you're never seeing it again you don't deserve it after that little stunt

Cl3m3ntin3: so... ill see it tonight?

D4m0cl3s: .... .......... ............... probably now fuck off i've got a day to get on with might even go on a date

Cl3m3ntin3: no you won't :D

D4m0cl3s: i hate you x

Cl3m3ntin3: denial x

D4m0cl3s is offline

"Jesus Christ," you say, tone full of surprise when you walk into your living room. It's just gone midday, and you've finally risen from your hangover pit of despair.

Following the conversation with your Damocles boy, you had decided a nap was in order, but it only served to make your headache even worse. Turns out, the orgasm had just been a temporary solution. You need paracetemol, and you need it now.

"Jimin, actually," an equally hungover mess groans from your sofa. He's bundled in blankets, a pouty chin hooked over the armrest to look at you with puppy dog eyes. His expression screams 'water pls'.

"And Jungkook," a second voice whines from behind the sofa. A hand rises from the direction of the voice, covered in thick black inkings, before falling with a thud.

Your lips hang ajar as you look at them both, far more confused than you should be. When you glance over to the kitchen counter, you're greeted with the sight of what must have been a rager. There are bottles everywhere - mainly soju and beer - and there's a sticky sheen pooling around their bases. A packet of crisps is open on the hob, but most of the actual crisps are scattered on the floor. You're willing to bet good money on Jungkook being responsible for those.

"The fuck happened last night?" You ask, though you're able to pick up enough context clues from the photobooth pictures that are on your fridge door. They're stuck in place with washi tape, of which you don't remember buying.

"You didn't buy it," Jungkook says when you ask about it. "Stole it from the photobooth place. Little klepto."

"Brilliant," you grimace. The last thing you need is a scandal going around about Kim Seokjin's troublesome younger sister and her thieving ways. The media love a scandal, and Jin has been able to avoid them for the most part. "Joon and Jin?"

"Headed home before us," Jimin tells you. "Really don't remember a thing, do you?"

The last thing you remember is messaging your Damocles boy in the bathroom stall. You don't even really remember how the conversation ended. The rest of the night? Never happened, in your mind.

Still reeling, the day wastes away from you all.

It's spent huddled up on your sofa, Jungkook's Spotify connected to your speaker, as you try and decipher exactly what happened the night before. It's like you're the cast of a shitty Hollywood movie from 10 years ago - nothing makes sense, but it also kind of all does. Jungkook's got the least patchy memories. Remembers how you got home, at least.

There's only one thing he doesn't mention - partially because it happened this morning, not last night, but also because he wants to spare your dignity.

He's a light sleeper. Especially the mornings after a few too many drinks. As soon as the alcohol flushes his body, he has to get up, get water, go to the bathroom. Set his world to rights. This morning had been no exception.

Just a shame he happened to wake a mere matter of moments before your Damocles boy had called you.

No words had been spoken, no conversation took place - but with your phone angled awkwardly for prime shots of your most intimate areas, you had moaned a little louder than usual to make sure the mic picked it up.

And so Jungkook had heard it all - and had recognised the click of a Hush call coming to an end. He's had more than enough himself to know the tone by now.

Watching on as you laugh with Jimin about something nonsensical, mid-afternoon sun pouring through the cracks in your curtains, Jungkook is curious.

You don't notice the way he's studying you, nibbling on his lip ring as he does so.

The running joke between the pair of you about dating to piss off Jin has always been exactly that - a joke - but the idea of you dating someone else in the industry makes him feel a little... off.

He doesn't question it, though. Doesn't really know what to make of it. Doesn't like it, mind you.

As the evening begins to draw in, Jimin leaves first, with Jungkook set to follow suit half an hour later. He tells you he'll leave at 6, but he's still on your sofa when it hits 7:05PM.

"There's something about you lately," he says, scheming, dark eyes narrow. You narrow yours back right back.

"How so?"

"Dunno," he smiles. He wants to ask who you're fucking about with, but it seems too forward. You're close, and have been for years, but not as close as you used to be. His fault, really. He's the one who ditched you when he started dating some songwriter a few years back. "You just seem... preoccupied. What's going on with you, fizz?"

The nickname is so natural that it rolls off Jungkook's tongue as if he hadn't stopped calling you it around the same time he got that girlfriend. She didn't last long, but the slight chill to your friendship had.

"Haven't heard that in a while," you smile right back, as you take a sip on the fizzy orangade that you adore so much it had become a bloody nickname.

"Still suits you," he says, and he's right. Fizzy by name, fizzy by nature. "So you gonna tell me?"

You're not really sure what he wants you to say, so just shrug. "I'm fine, buddy. Are you okay?"

"I'm cool," he nods, aware of the fact you definitely don't want to talk about whatever it is going on with you - so he changes topic. "Nervous about tour, if I'm being honest. You're coming, right? Been contracted on?"

"Uh-huh," you nod. "For the European leg, at least. They haven't sent out contracts yet for the US leg."

"You'll be on it," he says with absolute certainty. He can't see any reason why you wouldn't be. They all like having you around. It's nice having a familiar face backstage. Nice having a friend.

"Hopefully," you agree, very aware that your job is incredibly sought after. You're not the only nepotism baby around, and know that the US leg will be a lot more... political, as it were. Record label execs will all be fighting for attention from the boys, and that could mean putting overqualified suits in job positions like yours, just for a little bit of Scout exposure.

"You really think they're gonna kick you off the roster?" he smiles, nudging you with his foot from across the sofa. "We'd all riot. Even Yoongi."

Now that is something you doubt.

"He'd probably be leading the counter-riot to have me kicked off," you roll your eyes.

"He's just pissy that he can't be annoyed with you," Jungkook laughs. "He wants to hate how you got hired, but he knows you're good at what you do. Knows that you'd have got the job with or without your bloodline."

"Or," you counter. "He really does just hate me."

Jungkook shakes his head. He's noticed Yoongi's coldness recently, too. Puts it down to stress from touring so intensely. Things were definitely different than they used to be - not necessarily any better, nor worse. Just different.

"It's understandable," Jungkook taunts you. "You are pretty unbearable."

He catches your foot as you go to kick him, surprised by how strong your legs actually are - but you're no match for his upper body strength. Not even when you try and use your other leg, as well.

"Some boys actually enjoy my company," you protest, still struggling a little.

"Uh-huh," Jungkook nods, biting down on his bottom lip. His eyes are sparkling in the same way they did after last night's concert. He's just messing, flirting with you for the fun of it, but he knows he shouldn't. Knows he's only doing it cause he knows you're talking to someone else. He's lost your affections before, and while you're just friends, he still doesn't like the idea of it happening again. He likes being number one. Likes being top of the food chain. "Sure they do."

He thinks he has the upper hand here, but he hasn't realised you've stopped fighting against his grip. You're gentle in the way you move your legs, lowering them just a little until they're on his lap. He lets them be. Pays no notice to the fact he's not entirely soft beneath his sweats.

You ignore it, too. Kind of. Press down a little, just to let him know you know. He doesn't react. Just cocks one of his brows, as if to say, 'so?'

And then he figures that throwing caution to the wind is the best option here. He doesn't want to let things get out of hand, and he's sure you don't either.

"So are you gonna tell me about your Hush boy now or later?"

The way your jaw drops is almost comical. The pressure of your feet eases, and Jungkook is sad to lose it, but he doesn't resist as you pull your legs up to your chest in panic. He's still got that cocksure grin on his face, amused by your reaction.

"What?" He smirks, reclining back into the corner of the sofa. His legs spread a little, and the bulge is even more noticeable. He's doing it to fuck with you, now. You don't even look in its direction, but he still has the nerve to say, "Eyes up here, fizz."

"My eyes are up," you almost gasp. "And so are you, apparently."

Jungkook knocks his head to the side, and scrunches his nose a little. Being called out for it makes him a little awkward, even when he's the most confident guy you've ever known.

"I'm just hungover-"

"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes, before reciting the same bullshit he always says. "I'm always more horny when I'm hungover."

The way you say it is so whiney that Jungkook can't help but laugh. "I don't sound like that you prick - and stop deflecting. I heard you this morning. Sounds like I'm not the only one who suffers from horny hangovers."

It's about now that your face blossoms with the most delightful shade of red. Your cheeks are hot, and Jungkook can see how mortified you are. He finds it fucking hilarious.

"You didn't."

"Oh," he sings. "But I did."

"I'm gonna throw up," you grimace. Flirting with Jungkook is all well and good, but the idea of him hearing you get yourself off is shameful. Truly horrific.

"You didn't remember that me and Jimin had crashed here, did you?" He teases, knowing that you'd have never done it had you known they were in the next room over - or maybe you would have done. You just would have been a little more discreet.

"Didn't have a clue," you confirm, before burying your head in a sofa cushion. This is probably the most tragic conversation you've ever had with Jungkook.

He just laughs. Finds it hilarious.

"You didn't hear anything," you tell him. "Forget it ever happened."

"Was kinda hot," he shrugs - but fails to tell you that his current semi isn't the first time he's been hard in your apartment today. "Doesn't answer my question, though. Who's your Hush guy?"

Your face screws up like a paper napkin. This is not a conversation you want to be having, nor one you thought you'd be having a few minutes ago when your feet were on his cock.

In fact, your eyes are still closed, face all cute and regretful when you say, "How the fuck am I supposed to know? Doesn't that defeat the object of Hush?"

Jungkook laughs. "Give over. Who is he?"

"I'm being serious," you say, and notice the way Jungkook's smile shifts. He looks a little concerned, now, brows hard. "I don't know."

"Fizz," he says, too shocked to address you by anything but a dumb nickname. His brows are furrowed, and it's his jaw gaping now, not yours. "How do you not know?"

And now you're confused, because you thought that anonymity was the whole point of Hush.

"We just... never disclosed it, I guess?"

"So, what?" Jungkook's tone changes. It sounds like he's accusing you now, berating you a little. You both look as bewildered as one another. "You just matched with some dude this morning and got straight to it?"

That's the only plausibility, Jungkook thinks.

He knows Hush, knows what it's like, but knows that the stakes are too high to keep the anon act up. If he isn't comfortable enough to share his identity within a day or two, he unmatches.

Sure, he's gotten himself in pretty risky conversations straight off the bat before, and has had his fair share of casual encounters thanks to the app - but he doesn't love the idea of you doing it, too. It's because he knows that he doesn't care for the girls he uses in those situations, and dislikes the idea of someone else using you like that.

"No?" You reply, a little offended. "We've been talking for like... a few months?"

Jungkook almost shrieks. "A few months?! And you don't know who he is?!"

You stay silent for a moment. You're reflecting his confusion back at him. He can't understand for the life of him why you don't see a problem with this - but you haven't worked your way through the Hush circles like he has. Your Damocles boy has been the only person you've ever given the time of day on there.

"That's the whole point?" You say, but it's really a question because you can't understand why he's so horrified.

"He could be anyone," Jungkook whispers, as if he's trying to keep your secret for you. "Anyone!"

"He's alright," you promise. "He's nice."

"You don't even know his name!"

"I'm pretty sure you can only name a handful of the girls you've fucked in the last couple of years," you scoff at his hypocrisy.

Jungkook got eyes like a hopeless romantic, all shiny and bright. People don't seem to realise such appeal affords him endless opportunities for casual encounters - of which he thinks it would be rude to turn down. Or at least that's what he tells you.

Realistically, you know he just likes fucking about.

"That's not the point here, fizz, and you know it," he scolds.

"Who I may or may not send nudes to is really none of your concern, Jungkook," you tell him.

"I know that," he insists. "But if this has been going on for months..."

"Then it's still none of your concern."

He holds up his hands, eyes wide. He's waving a white flag, even if he thinks you're a walking, talking red one. "I'm not attacking you, here. I just think you need to be careful."

"I'm fine," you tell him softly, and he's pleased when you smile at him in that fond way he's so used to. It feels a lot safer than the confusion on your face a moment ago. You know his concern comes from a good place. "It's just what works for us. It's as much my choice as it is his."

Jungkook nods, and lets it go, but not before warning you, "I'm not the only one of the guys on there. Tae and Jin, we both know they're not, but the rest of them? I dread to think of what Jin would do if he found out Joon was phone fucking his little sister."

You laugh now. Really laugh.

"I'm not kidding!" Jungkook protests.

"I'd recognise any of you in an instant," you tell him, and you really believe it.

You have no doubt in your mind that you'd be able to sense any of them off from miles away. They're too familiar.

"I fucking hope so," he laughs, and while you're laughing too, you feel a little uneasy.

Maybe he has a point. Maybe you do need to dig a little deeper.

But as Jungkook leaves, and you check your phone only to find a new message waiting from your Damocles boy, you can't help but feel a little out of your depth already.

21:43PM

D4m0cl3s: whyyyy am i so obsessed with u

22:10PM

leaving me on read? that's a new one (plus will probably only make me a little more obsessed (something about toxic girls that just really gets to me))

22:32PM

i lied i don't like toxic girls pls don't ignore me clem :(

Cl3m3ntin3: hey sorry was just a little busy

D4m0cl3s: it's cool you okay?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah, im all good you?

D4m0cl3s: im okay you seem a little... i dunno. off?

Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i'm fine really

D4m0cl3s: yanno, you say one thing but the way you're writing sends a whole entire different message it's v confusing, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: sorry i don't mean to be im all good, honest

D4m0cl3s: stop saying sorry

22:54PM

clem whats up you're never like this, you got me worried

Cl3m3ntin3: you sat at home worrying over a girl you can't even imagine?

D4m0cl3s: wdym?

Cl3m3ntin3: it's not like you can picture me not like you can think of my face so what are you thinking about when you're worrying? some pixels? your phone?

D4m0cl3s: right. where has all this come from? please know my face is very confused right now so whatever you imagine when you think of me - 'cause let's remember that you don't have a fuckin' clue what i look like either - add a little confusion to it that should do the job.

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm gonna add a little anger to it 'cause you seem pissed off

D4m0cl3s: well, yeah? i kind of am i don't get why you're, like, attacking me? like im the only one keeping a secret? it's you and me both, clem.

00:06AM

you can't just ignore me whenever i say something you don't like

Cl3m3ntin3: no? i think i can. goes with the territory of you not knowing who the fuck i am. no repercussions.

D4m0cl3s: where the fuck has all this come from? were we not good this morning?

00:13AM

and there you go again, leaving me on read.

Cl3m3ntin3: don't act like you actually give a fuck been 3 months if you cared, surely i'd know who you are by now?

D4m0cl3s: pot, kettle, black, clem it's a two-way street and fuck you if i didn't care, i'd just be leaving your shitty attitude on read, too.

Cl3m3ntin3: how can you care about someone you don't know? really? how can you?

D4m0cl3s: are you telling me you don't care about me?

00:17AM

if this is you leaving me on read again then you can go fuck yourself. like literally just unmatch me.

Cl3m3ntin3: im not leaving you on read im trying to figure out what the fuck i want to say just give me a moment, okay?

D4m0cl3s: m'kay.

Cl3m3ntin3: i care that's, like the most important thing here. i really care. i just i had someone irl questioning me about you today and it kind of left me stumped. why don't you want to know who i am?

D4m0cl3s: i kinda hate that an outsider has swayed your opinion on me so much don't get me wrong, i love that your friends care about you just hate that it makes you think i don't

Cl3m3ntin3: that's not an answer

D4m0cl3s: patience is a virtue, clem i was getting there my line of work... i cant commit to anything. it isn't fair. it isn't fair to let someone get invested in me. the moment you know who i am, everything changes it's far easier for you to be detached if i'm just a few pixels if this isn't physical

Cl3m3ntin3: you've spent 3 months getting yourself off to me and me alone that's commitment, isn't it?

D4m0cl3s: that's conditioning, clem you've made everything else so incredibly boring you're the only thing that excites me

Cl3m3ntin3: and yet...

D4m0cl3s: and yet. clem, we both know the second this becomes more than what it already is, there's no taking it back. i don't wanna lose this don't wanna lose you.

Cl3m3ntin3: i think it's really sad that you think being honest will result in losing me

D4m0cl3s: just how the cookie crumbles, clem i've seen it happen with my friends you were right when you said you deserve more than dick pics from some rando on the internet but even if you knew who i was, that's all i'd be able to give you i like you too much to cope with knowing how disappointed you'd be by the outcome of my grand reveal a few pixels can only disappoint you so much a real, tangible human? so much more.

Cl3m3ntin3: just a rando on the internet who sends me dick pics and yet you've got me feeling all kinds of fucked up

D4m0cl3s: it's mutual, if it helps really did mean it when i said i was obsessed with u earlier and for the record i don't really imagine a person when i think of you more of like.. i dunno. an aura? i guess. peachy. orange. a little green. very clementine inspired maybe that's it maybe i imagine clementines my teeny tiny clementine

Cl3m3ntin3: you make my heart hurt

D4m0cl3s: you make my heart hurt, too

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm sorry for... like going off at you

D4m0cl3s: it's cool kind of nice to see this side of you, i guess ur ego isn't always big shock

Cl3m3ntin3: oh no it is this is all the result of a bruised ego was very offended that you didn't wanna know i am i'll have you know one of my friends got a semi just looking at me earlier and yet the guy who makes me cum doesn't even wanna know me &lt;///333

D4m0cl3s: firstly lets stop with this nonsense, okay? i would kill to know who you are and as soon as we're both in situations where it's fair i'm booking you a taxi and routing it straight for my place also fuck ur friend (not literally pls)

Cl3m3ntin3: oh? not gonna wine and dine me first? (i wont)

D4m0cl3s: absolutely not first thing im doing is checking to see if your head can fit through doors, you egomaniac

Cl3m3ntin3: and the second thing?

D4m0cl3s: fucking the rest of that ego out of you ♡♡

Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead

D4m0cl3s: im not the most romantic of guys

Cl3m3ntin3: i'll pretend im shocked

D4m0cl3s: are we good, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah we're good im sorry for getting so in my head about things don't even know why i got so pissed about you not being able to imagine me when i literally can't imagine you either lmao

D4m0cl3s: what do you think of when you think of me?

Cl3m3ntin3: honestly?

D4m0cl3s: honestly...

Cl3m3ntin3: your cock lmao i wish i could say something cute like your aura, but i'd simply be lying

D4m0cl3s: for fucks sake haha

Cl3m3ntin3: good cock, at least great cock, some would say

D4m0cl3s: some?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah not me i'd say average :)

D4m0cl3s: average? AVERAGE?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah :D

D4m0cl3s: i... do you need reminding or something?

Cl3m3ntin3: no? it's average :) !

D4m0cl3s: the man was too stunned to speak

Cl3m3ntin3: maybe i do need reminding then? could have sworn it was average? maybe even a little smaller?

D4m0cl3s: you are rubbing salt in a wound, miss teeny tiny clementine i've never been more offended

Cl3m3ntin3: hmm... prove me wrong?

D4m0cl3s: i want it on record that i hate you

Cl3m3ntin3: sure you do, baby

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: does this help?

Cl3m3ntin3: a little? not much, though maybe it would help if I had some more context? maybe you should play with it for me a little bit?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: like this?

Cl3m3ntin3: ooo that's a little better only a little, though maybe more?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

D4m0cl3s: what about now?

Cl3m3ntin3: maybe you should play with your balls a little? for like... spacial awareness?

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

yeah, that helps that really helps

D4m0cl3s: still average? or does it look like we both know it does?

Cl3m3ntin3: how do we both know it looks?

D4m0cl3s: like it would ruin your tight little cunt

Cl3m3ntin3: damn, damocles you're really coming for me now, aren't you? what happened to my pretty little pussy you love so much? it's cunt now?

D4m0cl3s: you don't want me playing nice right now you wouldn't be telling me i'm below average if you did you want me fucking you like i have a point to prove

Cl3m3ntin3: and what point would that be?

D4m0cl3s: that once i finally get to fuck your (pretty, perfect, fucking incredible) cunt, it's mine mine, and no one else's especially not that friend of yours who got hard looking at you

Cl3m3ntin3: i spy with my little eye something that begins with J (it ends in 'ealousy', suga) sugar** lmao typo

D4m0cl3s: suga on the brain? you a scouts fan?

Cl3m3ntin3: they're fine not what i want to be thinking of right now, tho

D4m0cl3s: my bad well, no, your bad actually who's your favourite member?

Cl3m3ntin3: shuuuuush time and place, babe also i have an idea

D4m0cl3s: go on?

Cl3m3ntin3: you got a bottle close by?

D4m0cl3s: ermmm like water bottle?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah

D4m0cl3s: i've a chilsung?

Cl3m3ntin3: perfect me too wanna see your hand wrapped around it

D4m0cl3s: .... i have a cock right here and hard for you .... and you wanna see my hand around a bottle?

Cl3m3ntin3: just do it baby

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

oh my fucking god

D4m0cl3s: what?

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

oh holy shit why is your hand so small it doesn't even get around the bottle?????!! i'd literally like... eclipse it

Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh now wrap your hand around your cock you know the size difference now you know exactly what it'd look like

D4m0cl3s: god i'm gonna fucking destroy you arent i

Cl3m3ntin3: uh huh i think so jesus christ i haven't even been touching myself and look at the state of me

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

you did this this is all you

D4m0cl3s: all mine i'm never gonna share you god i gotta fuck you

Cl3m3ntin3: we've literally just had a full entire fuck off conversation as to why you cant

D4m0cl3s: im a boy im stupid i cant be trusted to make such decisions let me fuck you please

Cl3m3ntin3: no, baby you know you can't you gotta be patient

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

think of how well you'll be rewarded

D4m0cl3s: no i gotta fuck you i need to i think i might die if i can't

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

so hard that death is the only option

Cl3m3ntin3: the way you hold it around the base always gets me so fucked up all i can think about is the fact it will look just like that when you guide it into me

Cl3m3ntin3 added new media to the chat!

reckon im wet enough for you?

D4m0cl3s: i think you're wet enough that i'll never need to drink water again so fucking hot literally how the fuck do you even get that wet

Cl3m3ntin3: wish i could tell you truth is you're the only one who's ever got me like that

D4m0cl3s: fuck don't say shit like that, clem im too close

Cl3m3ntin3: you can cum, baby i wanna see it

D4m0cl3s: can i call? i wanna watch you too

Cl3m3ntin3: yes please pretty please

D4m0cl3s: always so good for me, clem ain't no fuckin' way im ever losing this

Cl3m3ntin3: just call me you sentimental prick ;)

Incoming call from D4m0cl3s Accept | Decline (01 minute : 37 seconds) Call ended.

Cl3m3ntin3: im so furious that was a call and not a video you fucking whined WHINED jesus i might cum again just thinking about it

D4m0cl3s: and they say men are easy

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck you, you know you're hot

D4m0cl3s: do i?

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah yeah you fucking do give me all this shit for my ego, but jesus christ you know exactly what you do to me

D4m0cl3s: and you know it's mutual the whine... yeah that wasn't intentional you're just??? unreal????

Cl3m3ntin3: probably a good idea that we don't ever fuck i think i'd stop being able to function like a useful member of society would just want to spend all day in bed with you

D4m0cl3s: you say that as we don't spend a fair amount of our free time doing exactly that just... not together but still together kinda i guess? does that make sense?

Cl3m3ntin3: it makes sense i'm sorry about earlier, still

D4m0cl3s: im sorry, too i know that this isn't like... conventional

Cl3m3ntin3: conventional is boring im gonna go get a shower quickly talk later?

D4m0cl3s: talk later miss u already x

D4m0cl3s is offline

BIG HIT ENT OFFICES Yongsan-gu, Seoul

"You can stop avoiding me, yanno," Jungkook mumbles as he comes to stand beside you.

The grey corridors of Big Hit all look the same, but this one's a little different. It's The Scouts stomping ground; space reluctantly given to them after the success of the last album. Told management they needed studios to work in underdisturbed. Three of them. Tae and Jin didn't care for one - are happy doing their own shit in the dingy old practise room in the basement - but Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook all threw tantrums.

Well, less-so trantrums and more-so well put together business plans an ROI graphs for some of the senior bosses. Hoseok was in charge of overseeing it all, and blew far too much budget on it - something of which has bitten them all in the arse, and keeps them tied to their label for longer, but they have freedoms, at least. More than most bands in their field. Oppotunities. Visibility.

At the far end of the corridor, closest to the snack machine, is Jungkook's studio.

There's silence as you watch the packet of chips you just chose drop into the vending chute, with little care for the fact he sounds stroppy. Though you don't look at him, you know he's pouting. Can hear it in his voice.

It's been a few days since he left your apartment and you haven't really spoken since. It's not like it's totally uncommon for you to go a while without chatting, but you are aware that you left a couple memes sent to you on read.

You weren't trying to be a bitch, he just sent them at bad times, and you forgot to reply. Seems as if your lack of consideration has left him overthinking, and you feel a little bad.

You crouch, knees cracking as you do, stuffing your arm into the machine and retrieving your purchases - plural. A packet of chips for you, and banana milk for him. He narrows his eyes as you hold it towards him. You're still crouched, eyes a little wide but impatient.

"Take it or I'll drink it myself, you big baby."

He wants to resist, but he can't. Something just so tempting about banana milk. Gets him every time.

"Was coming to see you, actually," you say as you return to your full posture, knocking your head to the side to indicate you want to walk. He follows your lead like he always does. It explains the banana milk, at least, and makes him feel a little easier. "Just been busy, haven't been avoiding you. Stupid. Anyways, had a meeting today about the next run of shows so thought I'd pop up and say hi before I left."

He hums to let you know he's listening, encouraging you to keep on talking as he reaches the door to his studio. It's pin-protected, so you wait till he's typed in the code to continue - though realistically, you both know you could have just typed it in yourself.

"How'd it go?" He asks, both out of politeness and general curiosity. He's always keen to hear about your life; what's going on with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, entering first and taking a seat in his favourite desk chair as soon as you're inside. You drape your overshirt across the back of it, and ignore the way Jungkook's eyes briefly flitter towards your chest. His gaze doesn't linger, so you don't bother teasing him about it. "All good. Just going over some health and safety stuff."

He pops his banana milk down on the desk. Frowns. Sighs. "Up."

Every single time. Him and his bloody chair.

"But there's another chair right there!" You protest, knowing full well you're in Jungkook's ridiculously overpriced gaming chair, which really has no business being in a music studio - but dear lord if it isn't the comfiest thing you've ever sat on.

"Exactly!" He wails in return. "You, there. Me, here."

The way he gestures his hands makes him look like a flight attendant, all poised and direct, but you don't budge.

"Mhmm-mm," you mumble, trying to eat a chip as Jungkook tugs on your arm. "Me, here. You there!"

"You're gonna get crumbs all over it," he says with such a pout that you can't help but laugh. You know he's got a mini vacuum in his desk drawer precisely for times like these. You know because you're the one who bought it, after the fifth time you'd argued over something as trivial as a few crumbs.

"I won't," you pout right back, then promise, "I'll wipe my fingers."

He's about to say something back, before he realises that you are wiping your fingers - right along the hem of his shirt.

"For fucks sake, you little shit," he moans, wrapping his arm around your head to get you in a headlock. Should have just done this earlier, he thinks. The pair of you struggle for a moment, but he's too bloody strong. You squeal as he drags you off the chair and plonks you down in the spare seat. "Much better."

"You suck," you huff as you kick out at him, but miss as he sits himself down and rolls away with a cheeky little grin on his face.

He's about to reply all rather childishly, but a knock at his door breaks the contact of his eyes on yours.

You're thankful for the interruption. You don't like the way it feels when you look at Jungkook these days. It's a bit... too much.

"Who is it?" Jungkook calls, the frosted glass hiding the intruder, but not really. Even you can make out who it is.

"Yoongi," he calls through, to which Jungkook tells him that he can let himself in. He's one of the chosen few; the secret circle. In all reality, every single one of the boys knows Jungkook's passwords, but he tells himself otherwise. Somehow likes the idea of exclusivity.

"Hey, I- oh," Yoongi begins as he enters the room, stopping as he realises you're there. He's dressed down, a pair of black slacks and a white shirt a fair few sizes too large draped over his shoulders.

Dressed quite a lot like you, actually, though your slacks are fitted and high-waisted, and the white shirt you're in is tight. It clings to your skin, and now that your overshirt is hooked over the back of Jungkook's chair, there's not much hiding your silhouette.

They've both seen you in far less - there's a mutual agreement to never speak of your twenty-third birthday party and the bath debacle - but it's not often you're in anything that doesn't hide you up a little. It's just professionalism, and considering you're mostly around them at work, it makes sense.

But your shirt had ridden up a little from the struggle with Jungkook, and your midriff is distracting for Yoongi, apparently. He stays silent. Looks at you. Looks at Jungkook. Looks at your shirt, which is crumpled by Jungkook. Looks at the mess your hair is in following the headlock. Is unaware of the headlock ever taking place. Adds 2 and 2 and gets 5.

"Didn't realise you had company," Yoongi musters. "My bad."

"Don't mind me," you smile. "I can get gone, if you need time with Jungkook?"

"No, no," Yoongi insists, before turning to focus on Jungkook. The way he cuts the conversation short with you weighs on you. You and Yoongi had never been close, not in the same way you were with Jungkook, but there was a time when you would have been invited along with whatever he needed Jungkook for. Hasn't been that way for a while now, but it still makes you sad. "Just running through that demo you sent over, I've got some notes. I'll be in the studio all evening, so just come by whenever you're... done."

It dawns on you pretty quickly that Yoongi's jumping to conclusions. Your cheeks begin to flame, and you have to stop yourself from awkwardly laughing.

"I'm actually heading off now," you mumble, getting to your feet. The last thing you need is yet another thing for Yoongi to hold against you.

You like to tell yourself it's the whole nepotism thing - and honestly, it's an undeniable part of his disdain for you lately.

But you also know it's something more.

See, there are two things you and Yoongi will never speak of.

The first is your twenty-third birthday party, and the bath debacle that came with it. It was harmless, and he wasn't the only one there - Jimin and Jungkook played their part too - but it's an avoided topic to preserve your dignity more than anything else.

The second thing you will never discuss is the night that never was. The one you both agreed never happened.

When he looks at you, you know he's thinking about it.

But it's your best-kept secret, and you'd quite like to keep it that way, so you make your excuses and leave. Jungkook says bye, and that he'll text later. Yoongi doesn't even really look at you as you leave.

There's a momentum to your heartbeat as you leave the building, your staff pass beeping like a hospital monitor as you go through security. There's a buzz in your back pocket as soon as you're through the doors - not the kind you long for from your Damocles boy, but a just regular kakaotalk message.

When you pull up your phone and see his name, you're surprised, but also a little concerned. You wait until you're at the bus stop to check his messages - and when you do, you wish you never did.

Yoongi (personal): I've said the same to Jungkook as I'm gonna say to you. Think about it from Jin's perspective.

You can't help but laugh at his sheer audacity. Of all people, Yoongi has absolutely no right to berate you, nor your choices. He's completely missed the mark of the relationship between you and Jungkook - and he's really in no place to judge. No place at all.

And so you tell him as such.

You: Not really sure what you're getting at But tell me, Yoongi, did you think about it from Jin's perspective?

You know better than to mention the night that never was. Neither of you have spoken about it for months - a full year, almost - but he deserves to think about it if he's going to be a prick. Deserves to remember. Deserves to have it linger.

You watch as your messages are marked as 'read', and then you mute your notifications from him. How he thinks he has any right to police what you do - and who you do it with - infuriates you. Why waste your time, though? He's been nothing but an absolute arse to you over the past couple of months. Nothing will change it.

The frustration in your mind has you wanting to watch the world roll by. You let the bus you usually board roll on by, opting for the longer route instead. It won't come for another few minutes, but it's not so bad out today. The weather is bearable.

It's as you're waiting - a face of thunder and scowl foul enough to rival even Yoongi's on a bad day - that your phone buzzes. The corner of your lips curl. Cheeks turn pink. It vibrates again. And a third time.

So even though you mentally scold yourself for not waiting until you get home, you find yourself unlocking your phone and heading to Hush.

And sure enough, there he is.

D4m0cl3s: working late tonight

The second message is a picture. Has you gasping. It's a pair of dark trousers, unbuckled, zip down, but still in place - pushed open enough for you to see the thick outline of a bulge in white Calvins.

D4m0cl3s: thinking about you x

A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you forget all about your bad mood.

You reply, a grin on your face so large that you think it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Cl3m3ntin3: and they say romance is dead?? ♡♡

He replies instantly.

D4m0cl3s: i'm not trying to romance you, clem i'm trying to seduce you :) is it working? Cl3m3ntin3: no x D4m0cl3s: what about now??

The picture he sends through is obscene. Belongs in the centrefold of a top shelf magazine. Has you fucking drooling, a light whimper escaping your lips. The harsh wind of a taxi storming by reminds you that you're in public. You look over your shoulder to make sure there's no one walking by - not because you don't want to get caught looking at it, but so you can oogle at it for a little bit longer.

His fingers are wrapped around his thick cock, his grip tight. Like, real fucking tight. His foreskin is pulled down, and there's a small pool of thick precum glistening on his tip. It's so minimal, but so central to the photo that you know it's the main focus. He's letting you know just how horny he is, just how ready he is to fuck himself into you - and he's hoping that your pussy will be leaking like that, too.

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm on my way home can you wait for like 20 minutes? D4m0cl3s: i've got all night, clem take your time i'll be waiting for you Cl3m3ntin3: be home soooooon D4m0cl3s: travel safe, clemmie x Cl3m3ntin3: simp.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader

[httpknjoon]

the princess and the rockstar | jjk; masterlist

plot | No one expects the nation's favorite crown princess to be involved with an international rockstar.

genres | humor, fluff, angst, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au, established relationship!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | drabble series! everything listed didn’t happen in order. below are the titles/prompts. changes may happen in the future. asks are always open.

main masterlist | spotify playlist

spotted! - the first time you and jungkook met.

taking chances - after taking your chances with Jungkook three months ago, you two cross paths again. this time, the rockstar takes risks to ask Zafiro's royal princess out.

can't take my eyes off you - Sweet September surprises their fans with their own rendition of the classic song.

her majesty - This is how the rumors began between a princess and a rockstar.

rebel princess - media loves to give anyone random labels, you don't mind.

backstage pass - your first date with this rockstar is nothing like your other.

bad for business - jungkook tries to get you off your busy life.

all the voicemails you sent before - with him touring with his band and you working for your country, jungkook always made sure to send you updates.

iykyk- what happened after calvin klein reveals their global brand ambassador.

tattooed heart -

(more drabbles to come)

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @gxtwllsn @taechvita @snkyuv @canyon-lwt @hiii-priestess @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @bbtsficrecs @jnk-pop @jjeonjjk7 @tokkiggukie @cuntessaiii @annoyingcolorfox @kooliv @jksgirlhere @razzletaffy @oopscoop @hani0407 @taebae19 @yunki-yunki-yunki

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21

#bts angst #bts humor #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts series #bts established relationship au #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #rockstar jungkook #the princess and the rockstar jjk

[venusjeon]

rock god

you've got one year left to either finish your novitiate and become a nun like your parents always wanted, or leave the order and live a secular life like you've always wanted. but the fact that a sister's flirty nephew is staying in the convent for the summer provides a perfect distraction to such headache.

♔ PAIRING: rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader

♔ GENRE: 80s au, angst, smut, humour, fluff, s2f2l

♔ WORD COUNT: 16.3k another long one i'm sorry

♔ WARNINGS: minor characters death, religious themes, catholic guilt, smoking weed, swearing, sacrilege and exhibitionism: fingering in a church, profanity, blasphemy, quiet sex & loss of virginity (you're probably thinking girl AGAIN?), protected sex, betrayal, one mention of rape

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: for an atheist i do seem to write a lot about religion lol. the first song jk writes & performs for reader + the inspiration for the title is rock god by selena gomez, and the second one church by chase atlantic. i recommend you listen to them in advance☺️ also, we'll pretend jk is blond in the banner okay?

1986

The day was going incredibly slow, as all of last month’s had.

Most people would attribute that to the fact that you were a novice, but their idea of what that entailed was far from the reality. Contrary to popular belief and even if some sisters wished it was the case, cloistered nuns didn’t spend all day just praying. There were many other things to keep busy with in a convent, such as attending to one’s studies, doing household chores, or working to bring money in and keep the place going. Free time had never been the part of the day you looked the most forward to, though, until recently. Not that it got any better then.

Contradictory as though it was, you were kept from the present by the same plaguing thoughts you didn’t want to be left alone with… And sometimes, such as now, you didn’t have any choice but to force yourself back into reality, running late as you were.

The novice mistress Sister Daeun—that is, the one responsible for the training of the novices—had assigned you to fix the torn seams on your classmates’ habits that morning. Hey, someone had to do it. So off you ran through the cloister not to melt under the same sun others didn’t seem to mind.

Others being Jungkook and the group of girls who gathered around to listen to him play the guitar.

The presence of men wasn’t rare in your abbey, built some centuries back. It was sort of shut off from the rest of the world, hidden up in a mountain, but lost hikers always wandered into it and the abbot was more than happy to let them spend a night or two as guests, regardless of their gender.

Jungkook was a guest too.

He was in a rock band, or so you’d heard, and that career choice was why his parents had kicked him out, something you’d pity him for if he wasn’t always in a cheery mood whenever you chanced to see him around. Of course, what guy wouldn’t, surrounded by girls?

It didn’t bother you that some of your less spiritual sisters succumbed to his tattoos, long dyed blond hair, charming voice, and piercings. Their parents would doubtlessly tell them to stay away from someone who looked like a delinquent—your conscience did too—but then again, they were the ones who’d forcefully made them join the order, so you understood where the girls’ disobedience came from. On a personal level, in fact.

Though not because of the same reason, you weren’t there willingly either.

Unlike theirs, your behaviour wasn’t scandalous in any way and there was no need for you to be schooled in rectitude, no. This was just the path your parents had wanted you to take since you were little and you’d resigned to comply, however unhappy it made you. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t make a good nun, devout as you’d been raised and actually enjoyed being, but it wasn’t your calling.

Leaving the lively cloister behind and trying to do the same with your affliction, you rushed to your destination.

About three hours later, you were still sat in front of the sewing machine in the otherwise empty laundry room, humming on a loop the part of the song Jungkook had been playing earlier. You couldn’t deny it was catchy... Besides, you needed a tune to distract you from the machine’s repetitive noise and the summer heat, or else you’d go crazy. Maybe you had already, given you’d failed to notice someone opening the creaky door and walking in.

“Hello?”

Startled, you raised your head to meet the eyes of the rockstar himself, filled with something akin to interest. “Oh, hi...”

Jungkook chuckled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Before you could kindly tell him not to worry, that it was your fault for spacing out, he grabbed the hem of his shirt to show you the hole in it that until then you hadn’t caught sight of. “I was told to come here to get this fixed?” He then glanced at the dozen habits lying on the table you still had to work on, and changed his mind not to burden you, “But I can come another time– Or not at all! I mean, ripped clothes are trendy, aren’t they?”

For the first time in a while, you laughed genuinely and not out of courtesy, “I wouldn’t know, there’s not much variety in a novice’s wardrobe.” Since Jungkook’s t-shirt would just take a moment to mend and you didn’t mind helping him, you decided to neglect your current task without a second thought, holding out your hand with a smile. “It’s alright, really!”

“You’re an angel.” He smiled back as he took off his t-shirt, exposing a toned body you weren’t prepared for. Bet he says that to all the girls, intruded a thought in your mind as though to make go away the uplift of his compliment, but you brushed it off before he reached the table. “By the way, was that my song you were just humming?”

“Oh? I heard you sing it earlier, but I didn’t know it was yours,” you said while getting to work. Meanwhile, Jungkook leaned against the door’s frame. “I don’t really listen to music much.”

“What?!” He was utterly shocked, eyes wide like he’d seen a ghost. “That’s the greatest sin of all! I’ll have a serious conversation with the abbot, they’re not teaching you girls the important stuff here.” Father Jimin would certainly be amused at such a request. “But I did see you running earlier in the cloister, now that I think about it. It is hot, Y/N, but I don’t believe the floor is in flames.”

He knows my name? What a stupid question. Whoever had told him to come to the laundry room must have seen you entering it and mentioned you’d be there.

“Yeah, I was late, had overslept. It probably looked like someone was chasing me… Nun on the run!” you rhymed out of nowhere. “There’s a title for your next single.”

“If naming my songs will get you to listen to them, I’m down.” You looked up from the task at hand to ask him if that meant he’d credit ‘Sister Y/N’ as a songwriter, but the sight of someone walking down the hallway towards the laundry room scared the words away. “You know, you’re too pretty to be a nun.”

Sister Daeun, now right behind Jungkook, smacked the back of his head and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook’s smile turned into a pout as he rubbed the spot. “Nothing, aunty. Ouch…”

Yes, he was her nephew, which was the main reason why Father Jimin had allowed him to stay not just for a few days, but the whole summer. Sister Daeun had promised on his behalf that as a thanks, he would help around to earn his bed and under no circumstances put in peril anyone’s vow of chastity. If he weren’t so good-looking, you imagined she wouldn’t have needed to make that promise.

“Y/N…” she sighed when she saw the pile of habits you had yet to fix the seams of. Despite the disappointment in her voice, she made sure to say tactfully, “It’s almost midday, I asked you to have all of them done before ten.”

Jungkook was the only one in the room who had no clue as to why you’d been working so slowly, but he didn’t hesitate to step forward when your head lowered in shame. “My bad, I’ve been distracting her for hours. And on top of it, I gave her more work…”

He approached the sewing machine, got his t-shirt, and put it on, all while you stared at him at a loss for words. Why would he take the blame? Sister Daeun started telling you to finish some other time and get ready for lunch, but you stopped listening, attention fixed on Jungkook as he discreetly winked at you before leaving.

That wasn’t the last time you met that day. Well, incorrect, because it was past midnight.

Like many nights before, guilt stirred a restlessness that kept you from falling asleep, the only solution you could think of being walking around the empty abbey in the hope of tiring your body and with it, your brain. It wasn’t that easy, though, often hours how long you’d wander about, always ending up at the cloister. Sitting on the stone base between the columns and gazing up at the stars brought some peace to you. More than praying, it appeared.

That night, such peace was disrupted when barely after ten minutes of it, the sound of a lighter being flicked made your head whip around.

“So you do have hair,” Jungkook joked as he sat against a column, bending one knee so he could rest his elbow on it. Although a bit embarrassed you were in your pyjamas and thus wearing no white veil that covered your head in front of a guy you didn’t know, you did the same on the next column to be able to face him. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Lately, not.”

He puffed at his joint before offering it to you, and a short laugh broke through your lips. Was he seriously tempting a novice to burn one with him? To be fair, he did mean to help you sleep, but it was still a bit… much for you. “I’ll pass, thank you.”

“Yeah, probably not a good idea,” Jungkook nodded at his own words before taking another puff, blowing the smoke to a side so it wouldn’t reach you. “I don’t want your parents to make a complaint because there’s a bloke loose in the convent corrupting the nuns. Can’t afford to be kicked out of here, too,” he whispered the last bit, as though talking to himself.

“Don’t worry, that’s not happening.”

“Why not? Are you girls not allowed visits or something?”

“No, we are, it’s just… they died last month. Car crash.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” You could see in Jungkook’s wide eyes how much he regretted bringing them up. “That explains why you were out of sorts this morning... Agh, I can’t believe they’re still making you do work, what a bunch of heartless pricks! Not to mention class, I mean, isn’t it summer?”

His indignation for your sake came as a surprise. Ignorantly, you’d allowed prejudices to decide what kind of person Jungkook was before he got the chance to show you himself. The familiar guilt well-deservedly returned to grip your heart.

“Father Jimin actually had me switch jobs with some sisters so that I’d get to do less demanding stuff,” you came to the poor abbot’s defence. “It makes no difference, but he’s not to blame nothing can.”

"Doesn’t praying help?” He took another puff, lips curling into a smirk at the thought that next crossed his mind. “I thought nuns had a direct line with God.”

The truth was your relationship with the Lord had strained. As someone whose thoughts and desires couldn’t help but fall into sin over and over, you didn’t feel worthy of His comfort, or dared ask for guidance. His or anybody’s.

“I have to go through the telephonist angels first, I’m not an official nun yet.” The muscles of your face relaxed, gaze falling to your lap. “To be honest, I don’t think I want to be.”

Jungkook’s head cocked to a side. “Really? So, what are you doing here? You don’t strike me as the type forced by her p– uh, family.”

“I do like this place and what they’re teaching us, but I’m here because my parents wanted a saintly daughter who could put in a good word for them up there. I tried telling them once that I have dreams of my own, but it ended in an argument they had the last word in. Now that they’re dead, it’s like the topic is permanently sealed, I can never talk them out of it. And I mean, I love them, so how can I disappoint them? What would it say about me if I waited until my parents were dead to disobey them?”

Only after you finished venting did it dawn on you that perhaps you’d said too much. After all, what did Jungkook care? What did anyone?

“What’s your dream?”

The question took you aback, but you still answered, “I’d like to go to university, get married someday, have kids... Not be trapped inside these four walls for the rest of my life, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean, trust me,” Jungkook said quietly before puffing at his joint again. “You’re free to leave, though, right? I don’t need to master-plan an escape?”

You hummed a laugh, mindful not to be loud enough to wake anyone up, given neither of you should be out of bed. There may or may not have been a curfew you were breaking, as well as a tradition called the Great Silence in which everyone kept quiet from the final liturgical prayer of the day until the earliest one the next morning. It was a rule often broken, especially by you, but that didn’t mean the abbey wasn’t dead silent.

“Anytime I want, yes, only next year I’m supposed to take my solemn vows.” Jungkook nodded but a slight frown gave away he didn’t know what that meant. “Poverty, chastity, and obedience? It’s like a wedding with Jesus. I can always divorce him, but that doesn’t mean marriage is a light affair.”

Most orders didn’t work like that. There were various stages one had to go through before becoming a professed nun: an optional aspirancy, then a postulancy, a novitiate, and finally, a juniorate. Since you’d gone to Catholic school all your life, you’d skipped the first, done no more than a few months of the second, were about to start the final year of the third, and would not be doing the fourth since your convent didn’t teach it. Instead of six more years of formation before taking your perpetual vows, then, you had only one.

“Damn, and here I thought I had the most fucked up horoscope of the year. Maybe we were born on the same month.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t everyone know my parents kicked me out because I want to be a rockstar?”

“Yeah...”

Once again, you’d assumed wrongly about him. That because of his profession and looks, he was a rebellious kid who hated his parents and was glad to be rid of them. You hadn’t even considered their shunning might be putting him through a hard time.

“Look, disappointing your parents beats living a miserable life just to please them, even if it sucks. One day we’ll be old, and I personally want to look back and not regret my youth, feel like I wasted it. I’m not gonna tell you what to do but if you want my opinion, getting out of here and chasing your dreams says no more than you’re in charge of your own life.”

You had no idea why after that, Jungkook had taken it as his mission to stick with you.

It was common knowledge that you’d barely uttered ten words since your parents’ accident, so all eyes were drawn like magnets when you engaged in conversation with him of all people for hours on end. Since you came from vastly different worlds, it surprised you too that even though his company didn’t lessen your guilt, it was the best way to distract you from it. And precisely, that was his intention.

He would sit next to you at meals, trying to convince the sisters around the table in all seriousness that because they were cloistered, they weren’t aware Earth had been invaded by aliens last year.

“Do you think we’re stupid?” a postulant asked, giggles escaping you at how ridiculous the conversation you were having was. “Some of us do go out sometimes, I think we would’ve noticed.”

“They want you to think everything’s normal because only an army of nuns can defeat them!”

“How do we know you’re not one of them, huh?” you played along, narrowing your eyes in suspicion while Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, feigning shock.

“Aunty will vouch for me but even if not, I can’t believe you’d doubt me. We’ve known each other for like, what, a week? That’s enough for me to follow you into battle.”

“Sorry but can’t be too careful during an alien invasion.”

“That I warned you about! Why would I say anything in the first place?”

“I’ve been here for many years,” an older nun chimed in from the other side of the table, making everyone turn their attention to her. She addressed Jungkook, “You’ve just reminded me why I joined the order.”

He blinked, dumbfounded. “Why, sister?”

“Men talk so much nonsense it makes my head hurt.”

To see Jungkook argue playfully about aliens and men with a seventy-year-old nun who was having none of his shit was an experience, but it wouldn’t be just that.

Like you’d told him, Father Jimin had allowed you to switch jobs. Your old one consisted of embellishing clothes with elaborate religious embroideries—hence why Sister Daeun had asked for your help with the torn habits—that would later be sold on a street market stall in town beside other products manufactured by your sisters, whereas your new one required almost no effort.

There was an old married couple nearby who ran a goat farm, and a small group of nuns from your convent helped them in exchange of a portion of the food they made, instead of a salary. Father Jimin was clearly trying his best to raise your spirits when he’d assigned you to tend to the cutest new-born goats, but it wasn’t until Jungkook tagged along and you saw him struggle with the baby bottles, spilling milk all over his clothes and cursing at the tiny animals, that the abbot’s goal was achieved.

“No, no, no, come back, you little shit!” He chased a hoppy kid around the barn, unable to contain that lovely high-pitched laugh.

“How are you making a mess out of literally the easiest thing in the world?” you teased from the bag of pine shavings you were sat on, another kid resting otherwise peacefully on your lap.

“That’s easy for you to say, I’ve got Psycho making me do cardio over here!”

“Try this one,” you giggled, motioning to the empty spot beside you with your head so Jungkook would sit down. When he did, you lay the kid on his lap carefully and brought the baby bottle to its mouth, both of you watching as it fed without any problem. “See?”

It didn’t take long for the milk to run out, after which you and Jungkook stroked the kid to sleep while the other one still hopped around, sharing a smile when your fingers accidentally brushed.

Because he’d tag along, you agreed to helping out in the kitchen on another day, as time was somehow bearable if he was there. But you were still going through the motions, your parents’ absence ever-present.

“What do you think?” Jungkook stirred you awake from your trance. “Bitchin’, right? The best thing you’ve ever heard?”

The song that got stuck in your head the day you met was playing on a boombox he’d brought from his van and put on the worktop while the two of you and three other sisters cooked lunch.

The girl you’d just heard, he had explained, was the band’s lead singer Amber, whom he sometimes joined apart from playing the guitar. There were also a Hoseok on the drums and a Taehyung on the bass. Bangtan, their name was. You’d never heard of them.

“I’m not sure about the lyrics,” meaning all the cursing and allusions to sex, which got your sisters flustered in the background, “but I like the tune.”

“The tune…”

“I’m just more used to church songs, is all.” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “No.” You knew he was thinking exactly of blasting his rock songs in the middle of Mass.

“Why not?” he asked as a joke while trying to steal a couple of french fries from a dish. You slapped his hand before he could.

“Because Father Jimin will exile you, duh.”

“And don’t you think I’ll give up yet. I’ll be found outside your cell’s window playing music on my boombox until you agree to go out with me.” You should’ve cast away the heat before it reached your cheeks, as his flirting was obviously just for fun. Something he did with all girls and which meant nothing. “Better yet, I’ll write you a song.”

“I don’t think a novice is the perfect muse for a rock song, especially if it’s about…”

Jungkook shook his head. “I’ll keep it PG-13 for you, I promise.” He then grinned, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll start working on it tonight.”

You weren’t together at all times, though. No, you had class, he had work, sometimes you didn’t see him for whole days. Such was the case one cloudy afternoon around three weeks after first meeting, when Father Jimin approached you in the cloister. It had been a while since your last visit to his confessional box, so you feared a scolding.

“I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he said with that distinctive, soothing voice of his as you walked together, “about Jungkook.”

Your heart missed a beat for a reason that escaped your knowledge. It felt, somehow, as though you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t. “What about him, Father?”

“I hadn’t seen you smile for a while and now it’s all you do when he’s by your side. I know the past month has been very difficult, so it makes me happy to see you get through the loss of your parents, Y/N.” Did it really look like things were fine? Well, better that than having everyone worry about you until things got fixed, if that ever happened. “However,” Father Jimin continued, “as your Spiritual Director, it’s my duty to advise you not to rely too much on someone other than God for solace. There’s a reason for enclosure, so that the outside world doesn’t distract us from religion. Unless… you’ve reconsidered your life as a nun? There’d be nothing wrong with that.”

What Jungkook had told you that first night, you’d been chewing on ever since, but God and your parents had long won the war. ‘Honour thy father and thy mother’ was one of the Ten Commandments, after all.

“I have no doubts. I belong here.”

The last time you’d stepped in town had been for the funeral, but Bangtan was doing a gig at what Jungkook claimed was the coolest venue he’d ever been in and he’d managed to persuade the other members to perform Rock God, the song he’d pulled an all-nighter to write. You didn’t know what a title like that had to do with someone like you but apparently, the lyrics were from your point of view.

“You have to come,” he’d begged for the millionth time across the table the previous day, interrupting your Bible reading in the library. Luckily, nobody else was there, or had been before his arrival.

‘Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.’

Did that mean He would forgive you for the sin of going against your parents’ wishes? That you could hang the white veil and live how you dreamed of? The next passages from the Book of Isaiah answered those questions.

‘If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land: But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.’

In other words, you were fucked. There was no way out.

“I’d have to ask Father Jimin for permission, and I don’t think he’d let me go to a rock concert.”

You’d laughed to yourself at the idea but Jungkook had been serious, insisted, “Tell him you want to go buy groceries or something, he won’t say no to you.”

“You mean, ‘lie to him because he’ll take pity on you.’”

“Please.” He’d sank his elbows on the table, leaning so close you almost had to back away. You would have, had he not bewitched you with the most angelic of smiles. “Do it for me? I’ll tell Saint Peter I made you do it so he lets you in Heaven.”

That’s how you ended up in the queue for his concert, holding a plastic bag full of stationary you’d told Father Jimin you needed for class.

Jungkook had given you no ticket, said telling the security guy your name would suffice, and surely enough ‘Sister Y/N’ got you in. The habit had wisely been left at home, but the man still frowned at your modest outfit before putting a wristband on you that was a different colour than everyone else’s. You assumed it meant you were VIP.

There was a secluded area with round tables near the stage you were indeed taken to, where only a handful of other people were hanging out, waiting for the show to begin. You wouldn’t have thought of approaching them, as there was likely nothing you had in common, with them or anyone in the whole poorly lit venue. If you were there, out of your comfort zone, it was for Jungkook only.

The lights at some point changed colours and finally, the concert began. Bangtan got on the stage and performed song after song, giving their all to an audience that cheered loudly. You cheered too, captivated by a Jungkook who made you feel things with every look he gave you.

His blond hair was wet, whether with water, product, or sweat you didn’t know, but it dripped down his curls to his ripped clothes which allowed a glimpse of the inked skin of his torso. When had he got new tattoos? They weren’t there the day he’d got his t-shirt off for you to sew. You had never paid much attention to those that covered his veiny right arm and hand, but now you found yourself tickled by the fact, and wanting to see them up close. Definitely the tattoos, not his bare body… But most tantalising of all was the passionate way he played his electric guitar, moving around the stage with a confidence that made it clear he belonged there.

With that confidence, though, came a cockiness that had him eye-fucking every pretty girl in the crowd. Who’s to say he didn’t write songs for them too? Not to mention Amber, to whom he sometimes got so close you feared they were going to kiss—as did their fans, judging by their screams of excitement.

The last song of the night was Rock God, which he made sure to announce by enthusiastically mouthing you ‘This is it!’. You braced yourself for the lyrics.

Preacher man walked into the club, and he said He said, "Hey girl, can't you walk and not stray?" Father, I'm torn and I'm selling my soul to the Rhythm, the beat and the bass 'Cause I can't confess my rock and roll ways (Ooh) 'Cause I'm so possessed with the music The music he plays

Was the preacher man supposed to be Father Jimin? He wasn’t likely to walk in the venue right then, but the idea of him attending a rock concert was so absurd it made you smile. You guessed the tone of the song before Amber had even got to the chorus.

I can't stop my feet from dancing to the sound of his drum (Oh no) I fell in love with my rock god I can't keep my hips from swaying to his sweet melody You see, I fell in love with my rock, rock god

Oh, so not only did you like his music in this narrative, but you were also in love with him? You raised an eyebrow at that, to which he failed to bite down a smile. There must be thrill in succeeding to seduce a novice.

The next verse was similar to the first one. Then came the chorus again, twice, but it was the bridge that struck you, putting an end to the fun you were having. Jungkook watched your reaction closely, as he had during the whole song.

No, I wouldn't change a thing even if I could 'Cause I chose a path and I'm not looking back And I'm sorry if I left the angels crying over me

The chorus was sung twice more but the music muffled into the back of your mind, the bridge’s words lingering in the foreground. Would you be able to choose a path that resulted in your angels weeping? How could you? And how could Jungkook portray you as remorseless over it, when the matter was eating away at you inside?

The show was over before you knew it, and the audience slowly exited the venue while the band got out of their rockstars outfits and makeup backstage. About fifteen minutes later, they came into the area you were sat in and Jungkook bumped fists with the friends who’d come to see him in a rush, so as to not keep you waiting any longer.

Checking out your collared shirt and ankle-length skirt while approaching, he whistled. “Gee, Y/N, I can’t handle myself when you dress so sexy.”

“Because a novice’s habit is so much better.”

“There’s an appeal to it. Makes a man want to tempt you.” Earning a smile from him, you rolled your eyes. “Thoughts on the song. Shoot.”

You pouted. “Full of blasphemies. Are you supposed to be the rock god?”

“Who else?” Jungkook asked surprised. How did that escape you?

“Then why do I say ‘sound of his drum’? You’re a guitar player. Are you trying to set me up with your bandmate?”

“‘Guitar’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘god’,” he said matter-of-factly, it hitting him in the pause that followed. You laughed. “Well, yeah, neither does ‘drum’… but it does a bit more, right?”

“A bit more, yes. So, are you and Amber dating?”

Jungkook smirked. “Jealous much?”

“If you are,” you ignored his question, “she might not be too happy her boyfriend’s writing songs to other girls.”

“She has a boyfriend,” he cleared up, lifting a weight off your chest. “We’re just friends, what we do onstage is part of the show. Don’t worry, you don’t have to fight anyone to keep me.”

“What a relief,” you joked, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Listen, I’m gonna get going, it’s late and you said you were getting some drinks with Bangtan, so I’ll leave you to it. I had fun tonight, you did great.”

“I can drive you to the convent,” he offered, but you shook your head, picking the plastic bag up from the table.

“It’s alright, Sisters Joan and Theresa are still at their stall in the street market. I’ll go back with them.”

“Swell…” he said under his breath, hoping you couldn’t tell he’d wanted to say ‘bummer’ instead.

You didn’t see each other until the next night, when you broke the curfew yet again to hang out in the kitchen. Sat on the table, the two of you discussed your dilemma while sipping at the awful tea Jungkook had made. There weren’t many ways to fuck up tea, but he’d still managed it, holding the old kettle responsible.

All had begun with him pointing out you’d paled towards the end of Rock God and you telling him the lyrics had moved you because you’d chosen to finish your novitiate. There was no way, therefore, you could sell your soul to the rhythm, the beat, and the bass.

“I know I said I wouldn’t tell you what to do, but–”

“You did.”

“But hear me out. Now that we’re friends, I can’t just watch you make a decision I know you already regret.”

“I’d regret leaving too, at least this is the selfless choice.”

“Well, aren’t you a good person!” Jungkook’s mocking made you sigh and sip on your tea like it were alcohol. It did taste as bad. “Y/N, you need to live for yourself, not for two fuddy-duddies who couldn’t put their daughter’s happiness before theirs.”

“Don’t be mean to them.”

Jungkook only bit his tongue because of your pleading tone. “Sorry… Even if you loved your parents, you can’t deny they put you in a tough spot. I’m sure wherever they are, they’ve realised they were wrong and want you to be happy however you choose.”

“The thing is, they were convinced I’d be happy as a nun, that I just wanted to switch to secular on a whim. That’s why they ordered me to stay, they were looking out for me.” Jungkook almost grimaced at the word ‘ordered’, fought against commenting how messed up was the fact that you were using it in this context. Staring at the almost empty mug on your lap, you wondered whether it was insensitive of you to speak your mind. “It’s also what’s happened to you that I couldn’t bear happening to me, even if my parents are gone. I don’t want to do anything that would make them spurn me. I don’t want them not to love me,” your voice broke despite your best efforts.

Jungkook immediately stole the mug from your fingers and put it next to his on the table, so he could hold your hands. “Listen to me, my parents are assholes. Like, genuine bad people who shouldn’t’ve been allowed to have a kid. I won’t tell you the things they’ve said and done to me because you’d cry, but they are a different breed. Normal parents love their children no matter what. Why do you think yours would spurn you if they were still alive, instead of realising that they were making you unhappy?”

Good point, actually. If only it wasn’t far more complicated than that…

The second Jungkook withdrew his hands, you missed their warmth, even though it was a hot summer night. He sipped at his tea, and you suspected he only mmm-ed with delight to make you laugh, given he bloody well knew its taste was disgusting. Idiot.

“Just promise me one thing,” he added, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you quit being a novice, go out on a date with me.”

Now, that made you laugh. “A date?”

Jungkook nodded, anchoring his foot to one of the legs of your chair so he could drag it close to his and rest his arm on its top rail, the proximity such that you could feel his breathing against your cheek. Heart racing, you crossed your arms and tried your hardest to appear unbothered. “I’ll pick you up at five and we’ll go roller-skating until we can’t feel our legs, then we’ll have dinner in my van while we watch a drive-in movie– A scary one, so you cling onto me for safety. Then I’ll drive you home, walk you to your door, and you’ll go ‘Oh! It’s too late, why don’t you stay over?’. So we’ll have some drinks, and you’ll take my hand to lead me into your bedroom, and then…”

“And then we’ll say our prayers and go to sleep.”

“To sleep, yes,” Jungkook chuckled, “afterwards.”

“I don’t know what makes you think I wouldn’t live almost like a nun if I left here. I am, in fact, a Catholic.”

“A relaxed one, I dare say. Oh, come on. You’ve never thought about breaking your faith’s rules? Not even to have fun?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a confession, but you shook your head.

“I can have fun without breaking the rules, I always have.”

Jungkook nibbled at his lip for a while, mentally debating with himself. Whichever of the voices in his head won, it made him say, “What if I showed you my ways? Would you be up for that?”

“Up for what, exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

Due to the series of communal prayers scattered throughout the day called Liturgy of Hours, it was as early as five that the whole convent got up. You’d usually go straight back to bed after the first one and get what more rest you could until it was time for class or work, but today, despite it being Sunday, a few sisters had volunteered to go to the farm and help around, you and Jungkook joining them to nanny the goats.

You didn’t mind getting your habit dirty there, but it was being an awfully hot July, which was the reason why you were wearing lighter clothes that morning when walking into the chapel alongside Jungkook to attend Mass. He was an atheist whom you supposed only went to these things to spend more time with you, and that warmed your heart.

Ever since you’d started hanging out, the same less devout sisters who’d previously flocked around him had gone back to the handsome abbot’s orbit, so the nearer pews to the altar had quickly been taken. Together, you sat alone at the back, the pew all to yourselves. Three quite tall sisters were sat in the one in front of you and acted as a barrier Father Jimin hid behind of, but as long as you heard him, it didn’t matter.

Your mind went elsewhere no more than a couple of minutes into the service anyway. Tuning out seemed to be easy as of late.

It was just so unfair, all of it. You could be learning in university, meeting new people, living a normal life where you wouldn’t need to ask an abbot for permission to go out if you fancied taking a fucking walk! It didn’t have to mean you’d stop practising your religion or let yourself fall into sin at all, nothing had to change in that regard. You took a deep breath charged with frustration. If only your parents hadn’t decided to take the car in the middle of a storm and you’d had more time to make them see reason… Why did they have to die? Why did God have to take them and leave you alone?

Right in the middle of your brooding was when Jungkook put his hand on your bare knee and asked in a whisper, “Hey, are you okay?”

You forced a smile that he didn’t seem convinced by, so his hand remained on the same spot after he’d gone back to paying attention to Mass. His touch didn’t make you uncomfortable, you welcomed it and the comfort it provided, but your jaw did drop when it slowly travelled down your inner thigh, towards your intimate area.

“What are you doing?” you mouthed, petrified at the possibility of anyone noticing. Luckily, the only person facing the pews was Father Jimin, who couldn’t see a thing from the altar thanks to your barrier-sisters.

“Showing you my idea of fun,” Jungkook leaned in to whisper, lips brushing against your earlobe. It wasn’t that what made you gulp, though, but the fact that he reached your clit and rubbed it softly over your linen shorts, up and down, side to side… The unexpected pleasure made your breath hitch in your throat, gaze flying around the chapel at the speed of light. “No one’s watching,” Jungkook reassured you. “Live a little, Y/N.” Feeling his middle finger now press your clit firmly and at an increasing pace, you looked at him, shocked there was no sign of shame on his features, eyes half-lidded with arousal as they studied your worried ones. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Stop? You were still registering something had started there, in a sacred place, during Mass! What you were letting Jungkook do to you was all kinds of sinful, but… it felt so good you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Sobering up, he ceased his actions at that lack of consent, and was going to withdraw his hand and apologise had you not grabbed it and kept it in place down there, much to the surprise of both.

Relief showed on Jungkook in the form of an exhale. He wasted no time, then, sliding his hand inside your shorts and underwear, making you bite down on your lip when he found your clit once more and rubbed it in circles. He lingered there just enough to make your core pulsate with ache when he abandoned it to move on to your wet slit, something you had to slouch for him to do. He eased two fingers inside you that he began pumping in and out with a mastery that got you squirming in your seat, hand glued to your mouth to hold back the moans that threatened to escape it and gaze locked on the tattooed sleeve that disappeared inside your shorts.

That was when everyone started singing a hymn. Jungkook took the chance to quicken his movements, the sounds of your irregular breathing and his fingers sliding into your juices eclipsed by the song. He licked his lips, coating them with saliva before leaving chaste kisses on your neck, knowing if his tongue met it he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from fucking you right there and then. When he pulled back, he noticed you’d closed your eyes to get lost in the pleasure, and that they opened only when you felt his breath near your parted lips, to stare down at his. So close, yet he restrained the urge to kiss you, intent on watching you come.

He didn’t have to wait long, your walls now clenching around his fingers every time he rubbed that magical spot, thighs shaking as a result. All the tension built up inside of you suddenly released, and you dissolved into a daze just in time for the ending of the hymn. Not to overstimulate you, Jungkook gently removed his fingers and slipped out of the chapel. He returned a minute later with his hand washed and dry, and although you readily intertwined fingers with his when he reached out, you dared not meet his eyes after what had just happened.

That night you lay awake tossing and turning forever, unable to forget the feel of his touch.

Inexplicably, you weren’t ashamed of all the sins you’d added to the collection that day: falling into the temptation of lust, doing pre-marital sexual acts that didn’t lead to procreation, breaching your vow of chastity, desecrating a holy place, taking the sacrament while in mortal sin… Somehow, you just weren’t. You were, right after, but now it was as though you’d managed to sweep all the guilt related to it under the rug. As for the one related to your parents, well, Jungkook had been the sweetest distraction from it.

A distraction you craved again.

You must have been held sway by a demon when you got up from bed to go find Jungkook, but you were in no hurry to free yourself from its grasp.

Except for the first night, he tended to be the sleepless one who wandered about the abbey until you eventually joined him, so you knew he’d be awake. Indeed, he was on the phone in the community room, getting tangled up in the cord as he paced around, nervous. He couldn’t see you lurking in the hallway’s shadows, so you decided to let curiosity get the better of you and eavesdrop the conversation he was having.

“No, you’re not following,” he whispered into the phone. “My cousin’s friend’s brother is into this hot religious girl, and I– he! sort of fingered her in public… In a church… No, there were people present, it was in the middle of Mass… Nobody, that I’m– that he’s aware… No, Hoseok, it’s not dope! He’s going up and down the walls like a fucking yoyo... He isn’t so sure it was a good idea, fears he might’ve crossed a line… Well, he hasn’t seen her since, I think she’s been avoiding him– Agh, he thinks!... Fuck yeah, she did, and he loved it too… The problem is that I don’t want her to regret it and feel bad about it just because it wasn’t the time or place, or to never want to have sex because I got her into it the wrong way… What? He, I said he… You’re right,” he sighed, putting an end to his pacing. “I’ll tell him. Thank you, bro... ‘Night.”

Arms crossed, you couldn’t help but smile fondly. He was that worried about it? You should’ve known, you were friends after all. That was all he probably wanted to be, at least. Friends. With benefits, but friends. Who would want to be more than that not only with a novice, but with one as troubled as you?

A noise made you look up. It was Jungkook, now by the window, flicking his lighter over and over to pass the time. Your eyes inspected his fingers under the moonlight, the same ones he’d buried inside you that morning, and the longing that had got you out of bed returned to move your feet in his direction. You must’ve been abrupt while approaching him, though, as he jolted with a gasp at the sight of you.

“Sorry.”

“Y/N…” he said as he caught his breath from the startle. He had hoped you’d show up, but not so suddenly. Payback, he thought, for the way we met. “Listen, about earlier–”

You cut his sentence short with a kiss. It was soft at first, as timid as you felt, but Jungkook soon got over the shock that had frozen him and took charge of the matter, pulling you in a tight embrace. His tongue entered your mouth and swirled around yours like it was always meant to, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe. How else could it feel so good, and Jungkook so addictive?

It was a challenge, but you found the strength to step back and whisper so lowly that he almost didn’t hear, “I want you.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look into his eyes. No need for that, they already had you enthralled, dark with the desire you’d infected him with.  

“Yes,” you exhaled, taking his hands in yours to lead him upstairs. “With you, yes.”

Once in your cell, you lost your pyjamas in a matter of seconds, both too impatient to feel each other.

Being naked and seeing Jungkook so was initially nerve-racking but once you were under the sheets, under his toned body, your bashfulness flew out the window. Especially when you saw his dick, already hard from just making out—you figured he’d been charged up since the morning. Yet his priority wasn’t his own pleasure, but yours, not an inch of your skin left untouched by his lips as he slowly travelled downwards. Until you started giggling out of nowhere, and Jungkook raised his head from in between your boobs to look at you in confusion.

“Your Barbie hair is tickling me,” you teased him as you tucked behind his ears the blond cascade that covered his face and grazed over your chest whenever he moved.

“Barbie, huh?” Jungkook whispered next to your ear only to lay a warm kiss right under it, all while he positioned himself in between your legs. “Do you want me to tickle you somewhere else?”

“Actually, I…” How did one say such a thing? “I want to tickle you, but I don’t know what to do.”

He chuckled, “My pleasure to instruct you.”

You did as he said and reclined next to him, upside down so he could touch you—he’d insisted—while you sucked him off. It did feel strange to take him in your mouth and run your tongue along the length of his shaft, at least until you heard his breathing speed up, resisting to buck his hips into your face as he was. Your cunt throbbed, and you wished Jungkook’s cock was inside it instead of your mouth. He seemed to sense that, so his hand soon crept between your thighs to remedy your ails, a whine escaping you then.

“You’re just as tight as earlier, fuck,” he groaned from the pillow as his fingers struggled to curl and uncurl inside of you, given you couldn’t keep still. It made you all the more eager to pleasure him, taking him as deep as you could so he saw the same stars you were beginning to see yourself. “You’re doing so well… That’s it, suck it harder, darling, ah… Wait, stop, stop!”

Immediately, you backed off. “Did I do something wrong?”

Jungkook sat up and used his thumb to wipe the drooling trail of saliva on your chin. “You were doing too well, miss.” Ogling your body, he licked his thumb. “Why don’t you come over here?” You nodded, would’ve agreed to do anything he asked in that moment.

He lay down again while holding your hands to guide you over to his lap, over his erection, but your sudden nerves made you shy away. Nevertheless, Jungkook pulled you closer with a smirk. “Where are you running off to?”

“I’m sorry, just… Will it hurt?”

He sat up to peck your lips cutely, “Oh, it will be excruciatingly painful,” and you pushed his chest with an eye-roll, so he returned to his previous position. He grabbed the condom he’d stopped by his cell to get before following you to yours and put it on.

A deep breath later, you grabbed his cock and placed its tip in your wet entrance, looking down at it to make sure you were doing it right. Hands between his head and the pillow, Jungkook watched patiently, turned on by your inexperience and the fact that he and he alone got to be the one to pop your cherry, make you break your vow of chastity. He thought it’d take you a while to get used to the size of his dick, but you surprised him by rolling your hips almost aggressively the second you sat on it, chasing pleasure as though it would escape from your grasp otherwise.

“Shit, yes, like that.” All flushed under you and with his eyes barely open, feeling the way you moved with all his senses, Jungkook ignited a lust in you that even an angel would be willing to fall from grace for.

“Oh my God, it feels so good…”

“I know, baby.” He wanted to dig his nails into your hips and move them back and forth himself but found that for a virgin, you were already doing a superb job, laughed instead. “Look at you, fuck. What a dirty bitch, you’re loving it.”

“I am…” you panted, his name-calling sending you over the edge. “Jesus, I am.”

It wasn’t long until Jungkook felt your walls clench tight around him, something he didn’t blame you for as he himself was close too. His cock had been burning in his pants ever since Mass, even after he’d jerked himself off in his cell when the service had finished and you’d vanished. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you close to his mouth and kissed you hungrily, but even then, you refused to stop moving, felt too good. “Gonna come already? You like me that bad?”

I like you a lot. You were having a tough time not moaning, especially when he talked. His deep voice did all manner of things to you. “I’m so close, ah...”

“Why don’t I help you out with that, hm?”

He didn’t wait for an answer before bending his knees and repeatedly thrusting into you with such force that it had you gasping for air. If you’d known he could fuck you like that, you’d have asked him to be on top at the beginning. Eyes squeezed shut, you buried your head in the crook of his neck to moan against it as you came, finally letting go. Jungkook bit into your shoulder, not to hurt you, just hard enough to keep himself from grunting loudly as he found his own release after a few more thrusts, but your bodies remained locked until your heartbeats slowed down.

It didn’t hit you how loud your panting had been until your breath toned down and there was silence in the room. You prayed it hadn’t woken anybody up.

At some point, you got off Jungkook for him to remove his condom and go throw it in the bin next to your desk. You covered your naked body with the sheets, expecting to next see him get dressed, but he lay back on the bed. You didn’t understand.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

He scoffed. “Kicking me out, ouch. Why would I leave?”

“I thought… that’s what guys do.” At least, that was what your non-virgin sisters had told you. That men lost interest in a woman as soon as they’d had their way with her.

Jungkook shook his head as he said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” Having sex surely messed with one’s head, there was no other explanation as to why you blushed like a teenager. The two of you got on your side, facing each other, and Jungkook started caressing your arm with the back of his fingers, the simple action so soothing you thought you’d fall asleep. “Is this nice?”

“Very,” you replied, eyes closing against your will.

“Did I go too far earlier?”

You were taken aback by the sudden question. “Maybe, but I liked it. You were right about breaking the rules. Looking back… I think it was what you said about living a little that got to me. Here at the convent, I don’t really feel alive, but I do when we’re this close.”

“See?” Jungkook asked gently, trying to make you see his point. “What’s stopping you from quitting, then? Nothing should cost you feeling alive.”

“Apart from my parents?” you sighed. “Look around. As a novice, I couldn’t receive their inheritance. Vow of poverty, remember? What you see in this cell is everything I own.” Jungkook had already noticed on his way in your lack of personal belongings. A cross hung over the bed, a small pile of religious books on the desk, a framed photo of you with your family, and little more. It was so empty and cold that anyone would’ve thought you’d just moved in. “I can’t afford to go to university, much less live on my own.”

“Well… I’ve been saving up for a while and I’m moving in an apartment with Hoseok and Tae when summer’s over. Why don’t you come stay with us? I’m sure they won’t mind!” he said enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like he’d come up with the solution to all your problems. “I’ll help you find a job and you’ll be able to afford uni, easy-peasy.”

You were too sleepy to chuckle, but a faint smile did tug at your lips because of how determined he was to fix things. Things that were too broken to be fixed. “Let’s not talk about this right now, please?”

Even though Jungkook wasn’t pleased with your response, he forced a smile. “Why, did I tire you out?” Leaning in, he kissed your lips lightly. “You’re right, let’s not ruin the moment. Come here.”

He had you rest your head on his chest, and held lovingly, you fell asleep.

Understandably, he’d left by the time you woke up. If anyone saw him coming out of your cell, they might work out what he’d been up to there and the two of you would be kicked out of the convent. His scent lingered in your sheets, but it didn’t make any less disappointing waking up without him by your side. What’s more, as you put on your habit after having a quick shower, you were assailed by the most heart-breaking questions.

What if Jungkook had pretended to be your friend only to get in your pants? What if, now he’d got what he wanted, he blew you off? What if you’d risked everything for a guy who felt nothing for you?

To your immense relief, when you walked into the refectory for breakfast, he waved at you with a smile and gestured you to sit next to him. You were going to before Father Jimin suddenly appeared before you.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted warmly, as ever.

“Oh, good morning, Father!”

“I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”

You blinked. “It is, why?”

Shit. He knows?

“You left the chapel in a hurry after Mass yesterday,” he said, “and you didn’t show up to the remaining services. Were you unwell?”

“Oh... Yes, I was.” If you had locked yourself up in your cell, it was for no other reason than to avoid Jungkook and digest the fact that he’d fingered you in public. You lied, “I was sick all day, but I’m fine now.”

“I’m glad,” Jimin said with a smile you returned, then grabbed your hand to surround it with both of his, like old people will. “I know this comes out of nowhere, but I’m really proud of you, Y/N. For pulling through these challenging times. Many, including myself, can only learn from your strength. I know you’ll make a great nun.”

He gave your hand a soft squeeze and left you there, frozen in your spot. It was as though your sins finally dawned on you, all of them at once. You’d really believed leaving the convent didn’t have to mean you’d betray your faith and here you were, sleeping with a guy you’d met barely a month ago without shame because that made you feel alive.

What had you done? What were you turning into?

No longer hungry, you left to go back to your cell, tears already streaming down your cheeks before you made it out of the empty hallways. Or were they empty?

“Y/N!” You ignored Jungkook’s voice and quickened your pace, too ashamed to face him. “Hey, wait up!” He sprinted to reach you, concern shaping his features when he blocked your way and realised you were crying and trying to hide it from him. One thing was telling him your troubles, another to break down like a pathetic, helpless little girl. In the most caring tone, he asked, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You explained, told him how you felt.

“I’m letting Father Jimin down,” you sobbed. “Him, my parents, God, and everyone.”

“You’re not,” Jungkook kept repeating. “You’re in a period of discernment, right? So who says you can’t reach a conclusion by trial and error? That’s what other nuns have done too. Before they got here, yes, but it was doing things they later regretted that convinced them to become nuns.”

“I don’t regret last night,” you said in all honesty, “but I do hate that I don’t regret sinning... You just can’t understand, you’re not religious.”

Jungkook looked down. “Maybe I can’t, but if I know something it’s that if what we did made you happy, it shouldn’t be a sin.” He looked around to make sure no one else was there before cupping your wet cheeks and kissing you, every muscle in your body relaxing under his touch as he knew they would. “Now come with me and eat something.”

He didn’t fully convince you, but your will wasn’t strong enough to resist his tempting.

For the next three weeks, you continued sleeping together at night, pretending you were no more than close friends at day. Whatever the time, Jungkook made sure to spend as much of it as possible with you, although not for a moment did you ever let yourself believe he had any feelings for you other than sexual. You weren’t even sure you wanted him to develop them, truth be told, as this thing you had was a fling. Come the end of summer less than a month from now, he’d move out and you’d start the second and final year of your novitiate, so whatever it was between you had no future.

Still, he kept writing you songs.

Some he’d sing quietly in bed so you’d fall asleep listening to his angelic voice, but the latest one, Church, he’d also asked you to come see him perform in a concert. And so, you’d lied to Father Jimin again, claiming the ancient kettle in the kitchen was broken and a new one needed to be bought. What’s a sin more to secure your one-way ticket to Hell?

Jungkook had warned you this song was not PG-13. He’d be the one singing it, not Amber, and he’d begged and begged you to wear one of his huge t-shirts to the concert with nothing underneath, refusing to tell you why. Leaving the abbey dressed as modestly as was expected of a novice, you changed outfits in the venue’s toilets. You didn’t know why you’d agreed to it but the first line of Church explained his request.

You're wearing nothing but my t-shirt Call me shallow but I'm only getting deeper, yeah Stay on the ground until your knees hurt No more praying, baby, I'ma be your preacher

He half whispered the whole verse into the microphone, all while his eyes pierced yours from the stage. You couldn’t look away either, entranced by his voice and presence. So far from where you were sat, how could he make you feel as though the air had run out in the whole venue?

And I'll keep leading you on If you keep leading me into your room The drinks are all gone But that's fine, baby, so am I

You remembered the date Jungkook had talked about taking you out on and how… standard it now sounded to you as he turned his attention to the girls who cheered for him in the audience. Was it scripted? Something he said to all of them to lead them on? The more you thought about it, the more you realised he’d never actually take you skating. No, you were just for keeping his nights busy.

His gaze found you again.

I'm about to take you back to church (back to church) Well, tell me your confessions, baby, what's the worst? Yeah Baptise in your thighs 'til it hurts (you know it hurts) 'Cause I'm about to take you back to church (oh yeah)

I'll keep you up until the sunset Speaking in tongues, yeah, we ain't done yet (yeah) Don't take my verses out of context I know it's weighing on your conscience

Those last two lines… Further confirmation your relationship was just sex and that you shouldn’t read too much into anything he said, or feel guilty for sinning by having a friend-with-benefits. It was self-contradictory of you to feel down about him not reciprocating your feelings, but you did. Don’t they say love is irrational?

Despite how sad you’d got, the night didn’t end with the concert, but with Jungkook fucking you without restrain. When he was inside you, nothing else mattered.

You were in the back of his van, parked somewhere near the abbey yet not enough for anyone to hear the loud moans that each of his thrusts caused, even with the windows open not to melt in there.

“Fuck, keep moaning for me,” he grunted, gripping your waist to keep you in place.

“Keep fucking me, then…” Jungkook scoffed, would’ve commented on how dirty he’d turned you had he not been so close. You’d come already yourself, but were more than glad to let him go on until he did too.

“Since you’ve got such a big mouth,” he said, panting, “why don’t you put it to good use?”

It took him most of his willpower to pull out and remove his condom. You sat up and opened your mouth for him to shove his hard cock in, swirling your tongue around the tip before closing your lips tight around it and starting to bob your head to take all of him. A bit more experienced now and having learned to love sucking Jungkook, you knew exactly how he liked it done. You could feel it, his cock twitching against your tongue as you savoured it, letting you know he was going to come.

He pulled back again to jerk himself, and you began rubbing your clit, aroused again by the sight between your spread legs. “I thought you were done?”

“Yes, but you’re so hot…” you moaned, and he huffed out a laugh. Biting his lip harshly as he ogled your naked body and the way you touched yourself, it wasn’t long until he came all over your thighs, your own release following.

Jungkook smirked when he was no longer out of breath. “Dreams do come true.” He was staring at your thighs dripping with his cum and your own juices, and you realised he was talking about Church’s ‘baptise in your thighs’. You were about to smile when the rest of the song came to mind, and suddenly you didn’t feel like it anymore… Once Jungkook had cleaned you up with a cloth, he lay down next to you. “Come here.”

You always hoped he’d say that, even though he never failed to. So resting your back on his chest, he held you from behind, caressing your hands in a comfortable silence. It was then that you noticed the blank spot between the tattoos in Jungkook’s wrist. It was tiny, but seemed intentional.

“Are you not inking this bit?”

“I’m saving it for a small symbol, maybe a letter.” He kissed your temple. “Your name’s initial, what do you say?”

Your lips committed to it before your brain did. “Do you get tattoos of the others?”

Jungkook frowned. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he did. “What others?”

“The other girls you sleep with.” There was no jealousy in your casual tone, but it was still petty. Jungkook shifted so he could face you. He was indeed frowning, both perplexed and offended.

“There are no others,” he promised, serious as you’d ever seen him. “You trust me that little?”

“I didn’t think I had to trust you. Aren’t we just hooking up?”

Jungkook rubbed his eyes as if the confusion was giving him a headache. “You thought I was sleeping with other girls and said nothing?”

By what right could you ask him to be faithful in a relationship you planned to end soon? Besides, what if in doing so, you annoyed him enough to stop wanting to be friends? If sharing him with others was the only way to have him, it hurt, but you’d do it. You looked down as you whispered, kind of embarrassed, “I guess I do like you that much…”

Jungkook raised your chin with his curled index finger, made you look at him. He despised the sadness he saw in the depths of your eyes, the one you were trying to repress. “You’re much more than sex to me. I worship you and if I could, I’d spend every waking moment next to you.”

In a small pause, you tried to rack your brain. “Is that from a song?”

“No, but it should be. I’ll write it down later.” Jungkook nodded, agreeing the rhyme had potential. Still, he wasn’t going to let you change the subject. “Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

He is?  That did take you off guard.

“You shouldn’t be, I’m a novice,” you said anyway at your most hypocritical.

Jungkook sighed, “What’s so wrong about it? Don’t you love me?”

You didn’t want to lie to him. A smile made your lips stretch before you answered, “I do,” and softly, Jungkook kissed them. Every time he pulled back from a kiss, it felt like it had been too short, no matter how long it lasted. Like you needed more because you could never be sated of him. “Does this mean… we’re dating?”

“I mean, you’re technically engaged to Jesus, and I’m not a guy who likes sharing,” Jungkook joked before giving you a peck and returning to his previous position under you. “If you don’t wanna be just lovers, you’ll have to break up with him first.”

You answered nothing. Should you listen to him, though?

Around two weeks of bliss sprang from your love confessions, where it became hard to pretend you weren’t mad for each other in public, such as when he’d whisper in your ear how provocative you looked in your habit and you giggled like a schoolgirl in love—which, technically, you were. Your parents barely made it into your thoughts, as they were filled to the brim with Jungkook.

From the moment they were over, it all went downhill. Worse, it fell into an abyss.

You had just come out of class with other novices when your hand was grabbed by someone who dragged you through the hallway to head upstairs. “Sorry to steal her, sisters, it’s urgent!”

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you asked as he led you into your cell in a rush, closing the door for privacy. “You can’t be in here during the day–”

“I’ve found a way.” Only then did you notice how excited he was, a grin across his face. “A way to pay for your university.”

His aunt had been the one to tell him, at the beginning of the summer, that he must plan ahead as an adult now that his parents had turned their back on him, but it wasn’t until he fell for you that he actually started doing that. He was sure he wanted you to be by his side on whatever path he took, for his future to merge with yours somehow.

You, however, knew this conversation would not end well. “Enlighten me.”

“Bangtan is going on a nationwide tour next year.”

“Oh my God, that’s great!” You held his hands and grinned with him. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Y/N, this means I’ll earn a lot of money.” Then, you looked away. “With what I’ve got saved up plus that, you can afford to go to uni, even a private one, and we don’t have to live with the boys, we can have a place of our own! On the road we won’t even have to sweat about that, our company will pay for everyth–”

You freed your hands from his grasp, said with a nervous laugh, “You’re going a bit fast, Jungkook…”

His grin faded. “What do you mean? Isn’t money what you need to get out of here?”

“I’m grateful you want to take care of me but I can’t leave, you know why.”

“Are you serious right now?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. “Y/N, your parents are gone. I know it’s hard but you have to move on, I don’t want you to wither in this place when you have a chance at happiness.”

“Just because you chose to let your parents down doesn’t mean the rest of us want to.” You regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth, the sound of Jungkook’s heart breaking reaching your ears. Or was it your own?

It took him some long seconds to process you’d said that, then answer, “I told you how they were to me, forgive me for not giving a shit about them.”

“Well, mine are a different story. I do care about them.”

“And not about us? We can’t be together anymore after I leave the convent. Have you not thought about that, or were you going to end things like they meant nothing? Because for weeks, I’ve been trying to find a way to have a future with you.”

“I never asked you to,” you sighed, welling up. You might not have, but a part of you had wanted to. Wanted to go with him too. “There’s no way we can have a future together.”

Jungkook teared up as well, and you hated yourself for it. He was being met with unjust meanness from the person he genuinely loved. You sucked so bad.

“What am I to you, then? What have I been these past months?”

“A distraction.”

It wasn’t a lie, and that’s what hurt the most. You loved Jungkook, and yet, you’d used him to set aside the pain of your parents’ loss and the guilt that was consuming you for being a sinner. You were always going to dispose of him like a toy outgrown, regardless of everything he’d done for you.

He stared for a while, but you couldn’t meet his eyes out of shame. “That’s good to know,” he muttered before storming out, leaving you in a puddle of tears you deserved to be drowned in.

You trudged your way to class after a grey morning in the library. There was still no passage from any religious book that excused your countless sins and promised the salvation of your blighted soul, but that didn’t worry you so much right now. What did, was Jungkook.

He was likely avoiding you—for which you couldn’t blame him—though you doubted meeting and apologising for the ugly things you’d said would be a remedy to the damage done. Not that you didn’t mean them, but they could’ve been said with tact. Jungkook’s wicked crime was loving you, after all.

So busy were you missing something as random as his cologne that you didn’t notice until the end of the class that everyone kept stealing glances at you, whispering to each other afterwards. Even if a tired demeanour wasn’t deserving of such a disproportionate reaction, you still blamed the barely two hours of sleep you’d got for your sisters’ scandalised looks, but another novice approached you in the hallway out of pity to let you know you’d actually made the convent’s news.

You froze in your spot when she said it was because Jungkook had spread the rumour that you’d been sleeping with him.

No, please... Tell me he hasn’t.

Leaving your sister where she stood and running off to find him with the disapproving gaze of every other person you passed burning into your skin, you prayed you were inside a nightmare harder with each stride.

Jungkook couldn’t have betrayed you. Someone must have seen or heard you and put two and two together, right?

Such theory turned into dust when you saw him sat in the cloister surrounded by girls like the day you’d met, playing a melody in the guitar for their attentive ears. Somehow, you knew he’d done it then, and on purpose. You started to feel sick as you approached them, whether because of the summer heat or the knife stabbed and twisted in your back, you didn’t know.

“We need to talk.”

Jungkook didn’t bother to look up as he said, “If we were still dating, I’d totally be shaking at that sentence, Y/N.”

Some of your sisters giggled, others bit their lip not to. You went red, begged, “Please.”

Albeit reluctantly, he stood up and followed you to an empty hallway. You didn’t know whether you were more upset, scared, surprised, or disappointed, but the smell of the cologne you were missing earlier managed to calm you down a little, as Jungkook’s company tended to do. Your stupid body seemed to not have caught up on the fact that he was the cause of your hurting.

“What do you want?” he asked curtly.

“What do I want? To know how you could tell everyone about us, Jungkook, how you could do this to me. I’ll be expelled! And I don’t have parents or a family that will take me back if I go apologise to them, I have nowhere to go. Is that what you want? For me to be with you because I have no other choice?”

“Of course not, we’re done,” Jungkook assured you that wasn’t his plan, which you believed. He hated your guts, his dark eyes told you. “But now you’re not tied to a place you don’t really want to be in.”

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t do this out of revenge.”

“So what if I did?”

You stared at him for a while, speechless like he had the time you’d last met. “And here I thought you’d proved me wrong.”

“In what,” Jungkook asked in a scoff, “becoming a nun now that you’ve been dicked down?”

The coldness of his tone stung your heart. In disbelief, you shook your head. “No, in that there was more to you than what first meets the eye.”

A grain of shock broke through the mask of indifference Jungkook was wearing, probably because your words weren’t visibly said against your better judgement this time, but while seeing him through the same lenses as his parents did. You looked at him just like them the night they’d kicked him out, in a way he had hoped you never would.

And how could you not? You’d thought you knew him, yet he’d gone ahead and ruined your life. Maybe you never did know the real Jungkook at all, who was now too taken aback to come up with an answer before another novice approached.

“Father Jimin wants to see you, sister,” she said, after which you took a deep breath, nodded, and followed her without so much as giving Jungkook one last glance.

In his office, sat on his desk, Father Jimin was quiet. Had been so since you’d come in and sat down.

One of his elbows rested on his chair’s arm and two fingers pressed on his closed lips as he thought of what to say. You already had an idea of what it would be, and it made you no more ready, fists clutching the skirt of your lap.

“I don’t know what to say,” he finally confessed in a sigh. It struck you how it was the first time in the few years you’d known Father Jimin that you didn’t see a smile on his face, or at least friendliness. He was the kind of person who always saw the best in people but right now, there was nothing good left in you. “I’m truly at a loss for words. I never thought you’d do something like this, or that I’d find out from other mouths.”

Tears blurred your sight at the memory of him telling you he was proud of you. “I know I have no right to ask for forgiveness, but I’m begging you, Father. It was the mistake of my life–”

“You broke your vows, Y/N. Defiled a holy place.” Oh… Jungkook had admitted to that as well? Chin trembling, you pressed your lips together not to cry. “Lied to me about it and God knows what else… This behaviour cannot be tolerated. You can stay in the abbey until you find a job and a place to live, but you are dismissed from this community, if not excommunicated.”

You sobbed, unable to hold it in anymore, “Father, please. I can’t let my parents down, their last wish was that I become a nun–”

“Isn’t it your wish? Were you lying about that too?” Your head lowered in shame and Father Jimin leaned back into his chair with a loud sigh. “You should have thought about your parents before getting involved with Jungkook. Be grateful they aren’t here to see you stray this bad.” He waited for you to say something, but shame kept you from it, as he was right. “You may leave now.”

Everything had happened so fast that a week later, you were still assimilating it.

Except when necessary, you barely left your cell. Dreaded both the judgemental looks of your sisters and the non-existent ones from Father Jimin, who ignored your presence whenever he had to suffer it in the chapel or the refectory. Not to mention running into Jungkook. To your knowledge, he’d been kicked out too, was sometimes seen moving boxes from his cell to his van. There wasn’t much for him to pack, so you guessed he was dragging the process. What for, you tried not to care.

That was the main reason why, helped by the yellow pages, you’d been job-hunting through the telephone. Not that it was better or worse than going in person, because nobody wanted to employ an ex-novice anyway. They literally hung up when you mentioned you’d been expelled from the convent—as expected, to be honest—but lying again was not an option. You’d learned your lesson the hard way.

Eventually, you did manage to land an interview for a job. Given it didn’t pay that well, it’d be a while until you could afford to move out of the abbey and even longer until you’d step in a university as a student, which was frustrating, but at least you didn’t need anyone’s permission to leave. Since you weren’t a novice anymore, nobody batted an eyelid at you heading outside the afternoon of your scheduled interview.

You were near the main door when, out of nowhere, Sister Daeun stopped you to talk.

“My nephew’s told me everything. I can’t say I approve of your relationship, but it does make me feel better that there was love involved. A lot, apparently,” your gaze averted to the ground, “which makes your decision to break up with him out of respect for your parents all the more admirable. It was wrong of Jungkook to make it public, he knows that, and he would like to apologise and give you the money he made this summer.”

“I couldn’t take it, sister,” you opposed. “It’s his. He needs it to pay rent, he’s moving in with Hoseok and Taehyung.”

Wait, was that why he hadn’t left yet? Because he wanted to wait until September so he didn’t have to pay for August?

“He’ll make much more when he’s on tour,” Sister Daeun insisted. “This is the least he can do for you. That I can do for you, too. You’ll always be my novice, Y/N, no matter what.” Without a second’s thought, you hugged her tightly. It was solacing to know there was at least one person who saw past your sins. “Jungkook’s gone to get the money but he won’t be here until late, Bangtan is opening for another one of those rock bands in a concert tonight. He’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

“I was just going into town, so if you tell me the name of the venue, I’ll stop by. He must be there doing a stage rehearsal.” You remembered the light in his eyes when he’d explained to you everything about the vocation he was so passionate about, how sweet his smile was… No. No. You shouldn’t feel anything after what he’d done. “I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible.”

That turned out to be yet another bad decision.

Once your interview was over, you rushed to the same venue you’d seen Jungkook perform Rock God and Church.

Paying no mind to the fans at the entrance who looked askance at you for jumping the line, the security guy let you in when he recognised you. Memories of the two nights you’d previously been there stormed you while getting backstage, especially how fast your heart had beat because of the racy lyrics of the songs and the way Jungkook had looked at you from the stage.

Now, it died inside your chest as you watched him make out with Amber at the end of the otherwise empty hallway.

He had her pinned against the wall, hands gripping her ass to press their bodies together and lips devouring hers as though he couldn’t get enough. Amber’s hands were wrapped around his neck, and she now grabbed a fistful of his hair to pull his head back and start kissing his neck. You saw how Jungkook smirked at the action, turned on by her dominance.

Both in their rockstar outfits, they looked like a perfect match, so you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been dating all along. If that boyfriend of hers Jungkook had told you about was none other than himself.

Forcing yourself out of your shock, you exited the venue through the back as quickly as you could, saving the cascade of tears that was already building up in your eyes until you were alone.

It wasn’t that you were going to forgive him and expected his apology to come with an offer to date him again, but even after everything he had done to you, you still loved him. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn't help it. You were so stupid that you wished he'd find you there, sat on the cold concrete, and just held you in his arms until you stopped crying.

The next day you slept through breakfast, and would’ve stayed in your cell until lunch had Father Jimin not summoned you to his office again.

Curiously, this time around he looked… sorry?

“I’ve been made aware of some information this morning,” he said from across his desk with a nod.

“About me?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Oh, God, what now?

“I can’t answer that because it has to do with a confession, but it’s made me realise I was wrong.” He leaned in, gaze moving around as he tried to think of a way not to reveal anything disclosed in the confessional box. “I should’ve been more cautious instead of welcoming just anyone into our home. Sometimes, I fail to see beyond the surface, and it results in the harm of others. A harm I pray it’s possible to heal from.”

“I don’t understand…”

“What I mean is that you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You can go back to being a novice, or take as long as you need to resolve any doubts you might have. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you.”

“But, why, Father? The things I did– You forgive me?”

“I’ve seen you regret them even if they weren’t your fault, so yes, I do.” You frowned. “I just hope you can forgive me too.”

On your way back to your cell, you walked slowly, using all your energy to figure out what Father Jimin had been talking about. When the answer popped up in your mind, you turned around and ran through the abbey. If Jungkook had done what you thought he had… Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find him, as you almost crashed together when turning to the next hallway. Had it not been because he’d grabbed your waist in time, you would’ve fallen.

When he realised it was you, he let go and stepped back. “Y/N, I wanted to talk to y–”

“Did you tell Father Jimin you raped me?”

The question took him by surprise. “He talked to you first… Wait, I thought confessional secrecy was unbreakable?”

“He didn’t tell me, I deduced it on my own.” You crossed your arms, disappointed you were right. “Why would you do that? I can’t make sense of it.”

“It was the only way to get the abbot to take you back. It’s not like he can report me to the police, and I’m leaving anyway… I told him I made you do things and that you were scared to tell anyone.” Jungkook looked everywhere but your eyes. “I’m really sorry for outing you. It was fucking childish of me and you didn’t deserve it. I was just so mad at what you said… but I know that’s no excuse.”

A part of you wanted to apologise for that and even ask him if it was too late to start over, but another reminded you of what you saw last night and stopped you, along with the one that should hold the most weight—your parents. It was a miracle you’d been given back the chance to honour their wishes, so you couldn’t ruin it again.

“I also wanted to give you this.” Jungkook handed you an old school bag. “My aunt told you what’s inside, right? She mentioned earlier you were going to come pick it up yesterday at the venue.”

“Yes, I forgot…” you lied. “I was at a job interview and got out quite late.”

“That’s okay. Did it go well?” He shouldn’t have asked, it was none of his business anymore. The interest in you had just rolled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“It did, actually.” Both of you knew that if you went back to being a novice, you couldn’t take the job, but neither addressed it.

“Swell.” Jungkook put his hands inside his pockets, looked at you like he wanted to say much more. “I hope you have a happy life, Y/N. I really do.”

“Wait, are you saying goodbye? You’re leaving now?”

So soon?

“Yeah, poor Father Jimin thinks I’m… Well, you know. I wouldn’t want someone like me around you girls either. Plus, it’s September today, summer’s over,” he said with a forced smile. “Hoseok and Tae are waiting for me in the van. I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Before he could leave, you walked closer and gave him a hug. It didn’t feel right even when he wrapped his arms tight around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, what with everything left unsaid, but you needed to feel his warmth one last time.

“Goodbye, Jungkook. And happy birthday.”

Two years later

“You’ll like Bangtan, they’re wicked hot,” Chloe said for the third time, rather trying to convince herself than you, as she knew rock wasn’t your type of music. “Especially Taehyung, he’s my favourite!”

The concert was supposed to start soon, so hugging yourself and rubbing your arms, you stood on your tiptoes to check if the long queue ahead was moving any faster. “Well, I’m glad they’re hot, ‘cause I’m freezing.”

She, Chloe, was a friend you’d made on the first day of university. Lots had changed.

“It won’t be long now, get the tickets ready,” she gave you something to do, to forget about the February cold.

As she’d promised, it took less than five minutes for the two of you to enter the biggest venue in town. Such was the fame of Bangtan now. You were only glad the security guy from the other times wasn’t there to recognise you, since Chloe was unaware of your past as a groupie. It wasn’t that you were keeping it from her… You just didn’t feel like talking about him.

“Come on,” she grinned while grabbing your hand, all excited, “let’s get close to the stage!”

The concert lasted what felt like an eternity.

Not only did you have to endure Rock God and Church again, which opened the wound of a relationship you still hadn’t healed from, but you also had to keep your head down so as to not be spotted by the band members.

It was going alright, though, until you made the mistake of glancing up, and saw him. And he saw you.

Minus the fact that he wasn’t a blond anymore, Jungkook looked the same as always. Not that that was a bad thing. Whether in his rockstar outfit or covered in goat milk, he took your breath away. He skipped a few notes due to the shock of seeing you in the crowd but as the professional he was, he managed to make his faltering almost unnoticeable and keep playing the guitar like nothing had happened. But he wouldn’t lose you out of sight.

You wanted to look away, leave, even, but found you couldn’t, like Jungkook had put a spell on you. A spell that only broke once Bangtan thanked their fans for coming and left the stage.

Chloe, who’d been cheering throughout the whole show, now went on about how amazing it had been, how hot Taehyung had looked. Not really listening, you automatically nodded to everything until you heard, “Let’s go to the toilets before a line forms, I really need to pee.”

“Sure.”

You held her purse while you waited outside, recalling how Father Jimin had warned you seeing Jungkook again would only make your wound sting—to which you’d agreed! The only reason you were there was because you’d promised Chloe. Chloe, who was taking so long.

With a sigh, your eyes neglected that random spot on the floor they’d been fixed on and flew around to end up on those of Jungkook, who was walking towards you. The few people in the line to use the toilets gasped and watched their idol, but he didn’t care, walked past them like they didn’t exist. You, weren’t sure what to feel when he was finally in front of you.

“Hi,” he said with a faint smile that you returned rather awkwardly, given the fact everyone was looking at you. “Can we talk… in private?”

Every cell of your body told you to decline, that Jungkook was a book you shouldn’t pick up again even to leaf through, but your head nodded on its own accord. Hope you don’t mind, Chloe.

It was upstairs to the now deserted first floor he led you, and the balcony of which you stood next by, where you could see the few people left heading out. They didn’t hold your attention for longer than a second, though.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jungkook spoke almost shyly, yet his eyes didn’t leave your face until he forced them to, not to weird you out. How long had he been staring like that? But you looked so pretty...

“I’m here with a friend from uni, she’s a fan.”

He didn’t understand. “Wait, you ended up leaving the convent?”

“I did finish my novitiate but I never took the vows. They let me live there, though.”

It wasn’t a decision you made overnight, obviously, and one Father Jimin and Sister Daeun worked hard for many months to make you see it wouldn’t have upset your parents as much as you believed, much less get them to stop loving you. In fact, you were still coming to terms with it, not entirely free of guilt, but a mix of secular and spiritual life was proving to be exactly what you needed.

The university and the abbey, parties and Mass, your new friends and your family… You could have both and save your soul from damnation. Now, could you save your heart from breaking all over again? It felt like it already was, physically so close to Jungkook yet so far that an uncomfortable silence had fallen between you.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

You looked at him. Cut to the chase, alright… “I’m not. A-Are you?”

Was that a sigh of relief he let out through his parted lips, or did you just want it to be? “No.”

“I thought you’d be dating Amber.” Jungkook frowned slightly, so you went on and confessed, “I saw you together the night before you left. I came to pick up the money and… Well, none of that matters now.”

Horror painted Jungkook’s face. That was how you’d remembered him? Getting off with Amber?

“She’d just broken up with her boyfriend,” he wasted no time in saying. “Neither of us was thinking clearly. It was a one-time thing, an adrenaline rush after a concert.”

You hugged yourself, lips pressing together at the details you didn’t want to hear. “You don’t need to explain, we weren’t dating anymore…”

“Fuck, I’m sorry that you’ve thought all this time that I was with her,” Jungkook apologised anyway, gaze falling to the floor in shame. “Actually, I know that it doesn’t count for anything, but I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

“Yeah, I wish it did. Count… Or better yet, I wish I’d gone with you,” you laughed, at the fact that you meant it.

“What?” Jungkook took a step closer, as though he’d misheard and wanted to make sure he got it this time. Suddenly, you realised what an idiot you were being.

“Nothing, forget it.” You turned around to leave before the lump in your throat summoned any tears, but Jungkook took your hand to stop you. He couldn’t let you go, even if he’d been the one to leave last time.

“I’m glad you didn’t come with me, Y/N, and that you got to do what you wanted. But I do wish I hadn’t ruined everything and hurt you. If I could go back, I'd punch me in the face.”

It didn’t mean you’d forgotten, but the truth was that you’d forgiven what he did a while ago. After all, “I was also a dick to you.”

“If you’re a dick, then I like dick.”

Actually, you hated him.

You hated even more that that made you laugh but it was because of Jungkook’s clownery that you first fell for him. And you’d never stopped loving him. He smiled fondly, caressing your hand. On his wrist, where there used to be a small uninked spot, now was your name’s initial. Neither had he, it seemed.

“Does this mean you want us to…?”

His eyes opened wide, feigning scandal. “What, here? I’d sooner do it in a chapel.” You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t keep from smiling. “How about we start with a date? Say... Friday at 5pm? I know a good roller-skating rink.”

⇢ drabble: faith

#bts au #btswritingcafe #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts jungkook #rockstar jungkook #bangtan imagine #jeon jungkook scenarios

[69dias]

rockstar!jk mini series: [1/?] paris

a/n: it is here, and it has not been proofread. i am so sorry for the lack of content on my part but i promise i will make it up to you guys. next one’s in new yawkkkkk

warnings: mean!jk makes his return, unprotected sex (if u do this i will end it all), fucking within the first hour of knowing somebody, degradation, a bitttt of dacryphilia, FINALLY WROTE OC SUCKING JK OFF, riding... dirty talk, i think that’s it. oh and an obscene amount of petnames.

wc: 4.6k

the first time you meet jungkook is in paris.

it happens after the show, one that you’re sure you won’t be ever have the capacity to forget, one that affirms every piece of media ever romanticizing this city because fuck, do amazing things happen here.

you don’t get to think about the performance too much, just barely processing the way the lead singer had stared you down during the set, the glide of his fingers over the strings of his guitar, the sweat on his arms and the way the stage lights beat down on the ink covering his skin; just barely processing how stunning he looked, and how you’re barely even drunk but would still do anything to get him to look at you like that again.

when you make your way to the bar, comically slow and still a bit dazed from all the eye-fucking and the performance that was practically sex personified, there’s a security guard right there who almost seems to be judging your every move, eyes flitting down the expanse of your body as though he’s inspecting you for something. there’s a leather jacket draped over his uniform-clad arm, complete with patches similar to something an 80s actor would wear, complete with a cigarette hanging from their lips. it sure as hell doesn’t belong to you, and you open your mouth to tell him that, but he beats you to it.

“ma’am, this is for you.”

you don’t hear him clearly at first, and when you do, it’s hard to make the conclusion that he is indeed speaking to you. you whip your head around to see who else this man could possibly be asking to take this jacket, but he doesn’t let you dwell on it for too long —

“no, ma’am, you.” when you point to yourself, his sigh of agitation makes your eyes narrow at the sheer audacity he has to get irritated with you when he’s asking someone random out of the hundreds of people to accept this patched jacket. “yes, you. jeon jungkook would like to give you this. he tells you to check the pocket.”

the slight accent he has makes it hard for you to decipher the name, but this time, it isn’t hard for you to connect the dots.

jeon jungkook. the lead singer, who’d introduced himself as JK just a mere five minutes before he’d sluttily bitten his lips and done a once-over of your entire form like he was willing to devour you whole just like that.

jeon jungkook wanted to give you his jacket. there’s something in his pocket for you. this reminds you awfully of a wattpad story you’d written about harry styles back when you were a fledgling, and you figure it’s god’s way of repaying you for all the flack you’ve gotten for it over the years.

“are you sure he said it was for me?”

“yes, ma’am.”

it’s the last thing he says before extending his arm towards you, tilting his head expectantly. your fingers shake, still not fully able to process this when you pluck the jacket out of his hold. the man doesn’t stay for longer, and you think he clearly does not get paid enough for this, but whatever pitiful feelings you have towards this security guard dissipate as you reach into the pocket of the jacket.

it’s a piece of paper, perfectly out of the cliches you’d curate for yourself back in 2010, and it’s been written on in hasty ink.

the peninsula. meet me at 00:30 in the lobby. -JK.

//

this shouldn’t be a surprise, not in the slightest. you knew what you were getting into when you entered a cab headed to The Peninsula, you knew the risks of going to meet a rockstar after one shared look during his performance, and you knew meeting at midnight wouldn’t constitute anything other than this.

this, being sex, of course.

of course, though, life has a way of catching you off guard, but you don’t think it’s a bad thing, not when jungkook is fucking you the way he is.

you expected roughness, clothes ripped off each others bodies, pressed against the walls of his room, calloused hands running down the expanse of your unmarked skin, desperate and hot and messy; you expected to be bent over, cheek pressed into the softness of his bad — you expected jungkook to live up to the stereotype, although often misconstrued, that he would be rough in the typical, rockstar one-night-stand sort of way.

and jungkook does almost the exact opposite.

to set the scene, imagine a hotel room.

it’s a suite, floor to ceiling windows, and a bed far too big for the one person staying in the room, on top of which you’re bent over in half.

jungkook looms over you, thigh caught in one large palm as he uses the other to trail over your cheek, inked fingers dancing over the curve of your jaw until they rest gently over your neck. he doesn’t apply any pressure, eyes trailing over your face to gauge your reaction before he proceeds, zooming in on the way your lips fall open in a mixture of surprise and what he can only assume is lust.

he has you in your beyond skimpy lingerie that barely offers any dignity, the fabric being so light that it almost seems like you predicted the outcome of the night, but there’s no way you could’ve guessed any of this would happen. aside from the underwear, though, he insisted you wear the jacket that got you caught up in this to begin with, and the look in his eyes as he scans your body is something you wish you could save forever. the very obvious salaciousness directed towards you does nothing to save you from the ripple of embarrassment that washes over your body until it settles deep in your stomach when you realize that he’s fully clothed, and hellbent on staying that way for a good while.

when your eyes flit away from his face, avoiding him almost desperately, he tsks, index finger lifting from the goosebump-riddled skin of your neck to prod at your chin until you’re forced to look at him again.

“c’mon now, baby. look right at me. that’s what got you here, now, isn’t it?”

the question doesn’t require an answer, but you shake your head no, and it makes him laugh; loudly and unabashedly like he’s outright mocking you, and it doesn’t do anything to help how humiliating this is.

“no? no?” he tightens his grip on your neck once, twice, holding it there until you outstretch your head in a clear struggle to breath. the nonchalant way in which he stares down at your face, practically painted with desperation, pleading him to let you breath, sends waves of arousal down your form. you can practically feel the lace of your panties sticking to your pussy, and it makes you grind up into him for any semblance of friction to relieve yourself. “you don’t agree that you got yourself here?”

when he loosens his grip, you can’t help but relax into the sheets, panting in a quick effort to regain your breath so you can answer him. it’s not like his insistence that this situation began with you bothers you, but you’re not entirely to blame, which is something you affirm as soon as you recover.

“you were staring at me, too, though.” the words roll of your tongue almost too fluently, which is something that both surprises you and fills you with profound regret when he narrows his eyes down at you.

jungkook pulls his hand off your neck, placing it onto the soft skin of your other thigh, separates your legs so your feet land on either sides of his waist. he pulls himself closer to you, enough so you could feel how hard he is if he were to shift his hips up just a bit. the denim of his ripped jeans is a little too close to your pussy, and it makes you want to speed this entire thing up so he would just fuck you, but his next moves make the thought disappear altogether.

he brings his fingers to your face again, this time grabbing your jaw in an unforgiving hold, smushing your cheeks together until you feel tears gather in your eyes. he leans down, licking a fat stripe up the side of your neck, pulling away to blow on it softly until the sensation sends chills rippling over your skin.

“say that again, baby. think about you got yourself into a car and then showed off your pretty little body, think about how you’re grinding your slutty cunt on my jeans right now, and say it again. is this my doing?”

his grip doesn’t loosen on your cheeks, and hot tears run down your cheeks when he shakes your head no with his own hand.

“you’re all pretty like this just for me?”

he makes you nod yes, not of your own volition at all, and then let’s go. there’s a smarting ache blooming over your face, one that leaves you squeezing your eyes shut until his disapproving tsk has them snapping open to stare at him.

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on, cunt clenching around nothing as jungkook looks you up and down, eyebrows perked at the way your breath catches in your throat when he settles his hands along your waist.

it’s short-lived, the warmth of his palms leaving your body to rip his shirt off of his own in record time. he’s truly a sight to see, expanse of his right shoulder covered in ink that trails down to the fingers that had just been wrapped around your jaw, dim light of the hotel glinting off the two barbells on his nipples. his skin is like honey, smooth and golden, the chisel of his abs and definition of his adonis’ belt disappearing into the tight jeans that wrap around his thighs almost sinfully. it takes a second for you to recuperate, finding yourself doing exactly what you had done just a couple of hours ago at the show, shamelessly running your eyes across the expanse of his body.

the grin that spreads across his face when he sees your reaction is almost childlike, and it makes a rush of affection wash over your body when he leans down to place a kiss next to your lips. that feeling fades into the same one of unadulterated desire, though, as he turns the chaste kiss into one that’s anything but; catching your bottom lips between his teeth, slipping his tongue into your mouth so your own is open, letting him lick his way into you, filthy like he would shove it down your throat if he could.

your hands fly to his nape, playing with the smooth skin before scratching your fingers down the taut muscles of his back. he pulls away when you run your nails over his waist and reach the buckle of his belt; his own hands join yours then, pulling at the leather and tossing it so it lands next to your head. his jeans are next, unbuttoning them and pushing them until his knees, too desperate to remove them completely.

when he pulls his boxers off, it’s almost comical how your head snaps downwards to take a lewd look at his dick, and it truly would make you seem silly if it wasn’t so fucking pretty. it’s a peculiar way to describe a dick, but it’s long and thick, a bulging vein trailing along the underside leading up to his pink mushroom tip, a sharp contrast to the white beads of precum that spill over the side, testament to how turned on he is even when you’ve barely touched him.

“taking a pretty good look, baby. what’s up, not good enough for you?”

his tone is teasing, and you decipher the mocking lilt immediately, but just in case he’s being serious, you affirm him.

“no, no. it’s… it’s really pretty…” when you trail off, lost in the thought of how he’s going to feel inside of you, he clicks his tongue, chuckling softly.

“want it inside you, hm?”

your nod is soft, and you’re not even sure if he sees it, but you use all the strength you can muster to push him off of you. he lets out a small oof when he lands on the mattress, and you can see his eyebrows rise inquisitively as he watches for your next move.

completely taken over by a desire to just get his dick in your mouth, it doesn’t take you more than a few seconds to adjust yourself, pushing his legs up so his feet rest on the bed, and situating yourself between his thighs.

jungkook laughs, running a hand through your hair, grip tightening ever so lightly when you run a finger over his tip, collecting his precum and popping it in your mouth. when you look up at him, you see that his cheeks have developed a soft blush, eyes hooded when they look down at you in a daze, waiting for you to continue.

you’d hate to deny him further, revving up your throat to sloppily spit on the tip of his cock, relishing on the soft hiss he lets out at the contact. you do the same to your palm, rubbing it over his length until his hips twitch, breath getting heavier.

jungkook has a gorgeous voice, you know this, and thousands of people other than you do as well, but the moan he lets out when you finally get your mouth on him is nothing short of pornographic. you meet his eyes as you sink further down his length, tongue rolling around the base as you take him until his tip hits the back of your throat. you’ve been blessed with a gag reflex that’s practically non-existent, though, and it’s clear that he enjoys the feeling of your warm throat when you take his dick all the way down until your nose meets the hair at his base.

he uses his grip on your head to fuck your mouth slowly, soft ruts into his hips into you as you stare up at him, entirely helpless. the softness lasts for a couple of seconds, though, before he’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail to really give it to you, broken groans and heavy pants echoing into the air. it’s all a mere buzz in your ears, though, as you try not to grind your own hips into the bed below you; it’s ridiculous how you feel so turned on when he’s using you like a toy to get off, and your cheeks dust over in embarrassment when you trail a hand down to press softly over your clit.

the reprieve you get has you moaning onto his dick, and it’s clear that he enjoys the vibration, voice getting pitchier as he continues to thrust into your mouth. he’s big, though, and the strain in your jaw paired with the lack of oxygen has you tearing up, the view of his contorted face getting blurry as you try to breathe through your nose.

jungkook’s head lolls back, hips getting sloppier as he gets closer. your free hand goes to tap the skin of his thigh as a signal to let you take a break, and you almost think that he won’t let you have it, too strung up in his own pleasure, until he pulls you off. there’s a filthy string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, tears rolling down your face, mouth parted and cheeks flushed in the wake of the mess he’s made of you.

“jesus, fuck, baby… who taught you that?”

you laugh, not fully processing the question until he sits up, heavy red cock slapping against his abdomen when he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. jungkook’s smiling too, though, and you let him wipe the spit off your bottom lip, watching intently as he situates himself against the headboard.

when he pats his lap, using two of his fingers to call you towards him in a come hither motion, you genuinely feel irritated at how attractive he is. it is entirely unfair, and the pit of desire in your stomach entirely consumes you as you crawl your way up towards him. jungkook’s hands are warm on your waist when you get close enough for him to pull you up and over your lap, heat placed directly over his cock until his tip is just lightly kissing your clit. you’re so sensitive, so besides yourself in want that you grab his base to finally get him inside of you —

“Hold it, sweet girl. Gotta get you ready,” he practically lifts you up with one hand alone, and the way your pussy clenches at the display of strength is genuinely humiliating, but he doesn’t seem to notice when his inked fingers make their way to your clit.

He traces up your pussy, gathering your wetness before using the pad of his thumb to rub at your clit ever so softly. the action makes you keen, head falling forward to rest in the crook of his neck as he changes his pace from the rough demeanor he exhibited until just a few seconds ago. he presses a soft kiss to your temple, picking up his pace as he rubs your clit in soft circles, paying close attention to the changes in your breath and the way your soft whimpers get louder when he speeds up.

when he deems you wet enough, jungkook dips his index finger into you, letting you take him inch by inch, slowly until he reaches the soft spongy spot a couple of inches in, free hand coming to rest at the side of your hip when you buck forward, sucking a sharp breath through your teeth —

“f-fuck, jungkook, please just — please fuck me,”

his chuckle is light, kissing the side of your head again as he slowly prods his middle finger into you.

“I’m going to, honey, just breathe out for me, okay? gotta get your sweet cunt open for me, hm?”

your nods are fervent, letting out a slow breath of air and allowing his two fingers into you fully. the stretch is welcome, but the sting is ever present, and you claw down the skin of his biceps until you get used to it. he fucks his fingers into you expertly, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure until his name rolls of your tongue like a prayer, letting yourself succumb to the pleasure. you kiss down the column of his neck, sloppier and wetter as you warn him that you’re about to cum —

jungkook pulls his fingers out of you, a disappointed whimper of yours that gets pitcher at the tail-end colors the air as he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your entrance instead.

it’s a lot girthier than just his two fingers, but you assume he didn’t want you to get too comfortable and the pain is entirely welcome, especially when you can feel every ridge of his cock, clenching uncontrollably as he slides further into your cunt, nearly kissing your cervix from this angle when he bottoms out.

the two of you let out a moan, curses coalescing as they break the silence that has consumed the two of you. this feels natural, like you’re made to take him and he’s made to fill you, and when jungkook nudges your jaw to focus your eyes on his, you feel compelled to just never look away; his cock nestled within you, arm wrapped around the curve of your waist, as he leans forward to press his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss to keep you distracted as he begins to inch out slowly.

you feel a blossom of warmth in the tresses of your stomach when he ruts back into show, soft movements of his hips until your head rolls back, baring your neck so he can lick down it lazily. he presses a palm to your lower abdomen, telling you to breathe out, baby, applying just the slightest amount of pressure so you can feel him all the way in your stomach when he bottoms in again.

the groans he’s letting out are nothing short of filthy, th soft murmurs of your name as you brace your hands on the definition of his thighs doing nothing but incentivizing you to give your hips an experimental roll until you see his eyes shut and tighten.

“fuck, sweetheart. ride me, yeah —“

you’re good at listening to instructions, which turns out to be great for him, audibly moaning when you start to sink into the rhythm in fucking yourself on him. he lets you work yourself up, stares at you through dark eyes, voice scratchy as he guides you through it —

“aren’t you the prettiest girl in the world, hm?” jungkook knows just what to do, too, words fuzzy in your ears but the feeling of his warm palm on your abdomen doing nothing but spurring you on. “there we go, that’s it.”

his hand strokes the skin it sits upon, pressing down when you stop moving to catch your breath, the stinging pain rippling through your thighs as the strenuosity of pushing yourself over the edge gets a bit too much. you’re sure you look like a mess, hair messy and mouth dropped open in a silent moan as jungkook thrusts upwards into you, eyes fixated on where he can feel the bulge of his cock in your stomach.

you make a mental note to thank the security guard if you ever find him, because holy fuck.

jungkook doesn't let you start up again, planting his feet on the sheets as he uses his free hand to grip your hips, using it as leverage to really fuck up into you. he finds the spot comically easily, something you’d tried to do yourself with the seemingly pathetic hip rolls, nothing compared to the way jungkook is taking you right now.

you don’t mind giving it up, either, because it’s been a while since you’ve felt like this. it’s been a while since someone’s had you relinquishing all control, had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, tits bouncing about obscenely as he never lets up on how rough he’s fucking you, his own breath coming in pants and choked out affirmations of how good he feels — “fuck yeah, that’s a good girl”, “taking me so fucking well” — as he makes it abundantly clear just how close he is.

it should take longer, it's always taken longer, but jungkook uses the hand on your stomach to reach down, rubbing tight circles on your clit until your upper body loses the strength to keep you up, ripples of pleasure sending chills all over your skin until you fall forward into the crook of his neck. you muffle your moans into his skin, embarrassed by the obscenities that just roll off your lips, but every half circle he rubs on your clit tightens the string at the tresses of your stomach until you can’t help your head from lolling back.

“jesus — jungkook, fuck —“ the way your hips move on their own accord, sloppy in their goal to somehow meet his thrusts halfway is completely out of your control. it’s insane how close you are, and you only affirm this over and over until he has to physically hold you down to keep you from slumping over from the strength of his own hips. “I’m so, so close, please —“

“come on, baby, almost there, hm?”

he uses a free hand to tilt your chin down to look him in the eyes and it feels like you’re on fire. the angle of his dick splitting you in half, the way he’s staring at you, the thumb on your clit — it’s all too much and it has the coil that’s tightened in your stomach snapping, high washing over you in soft ripples and then a sharp wave that has your upper body tightening and loosening all in one go. it’s lighter than you expected, but you can feel the flutter of your cunt around his cock, moans breaking as you take in the way his face contorts in the wake of your orgasm.

jungkook’s thrusts stop, and you’re thankful because overstimulation is not your favorite, but he doesn’t stop chasing his own high; hips now moving up in shallow ruts as his grip on you loosens, head tilting up and giving you access to the column of his throat. you lean forward, licking a fat stripe up his skin until a shiver wracks his body. he presses a hand against your nape, grip weak in an attempt to push your foreheads together.

he stares you right in the eyes, using his other hand to pull his cock out of you, smiling lazily when you let out a hiss at the emptiness.

jungkook is stupidly close, if the borderline angry red of his cock is anything to go off of, and he doesn’t stop going after his orgasm when an inked hand encircles his base, never breaking eye contact with you as he gets himself off. there’s a filthy shlick shlick that is nothing but a buzz in your head as you’re still coming down from your high, but nothing fazes you, not when he looks so damn pretty.

eyes blown out, skin of his chest red from the exertion, breath raspy and voice breaking as he pushes himself over the precipice, you can’t bring yourself to look away from jungkook right now, almost paralleling the performance that got you into this debacle to begin with.

when he cums, it’s with a soft sigh and a deep groan of your name, spurts of white a stark contrast against the red of his cock. he lets you collect the cum on two of your fingers, a low chuckle ripping from his throat when you pop them into your mouth and then out.

jungkook doesn’t stop you when you slip yourself off his lap, instead just trading soft circles over your thighs from where you lay next to him. he’s a lot gentler now that the room is no longer charged sexually, but you don’t exactly pick up on the change in atmosphere — not when you’re this tired.

“jungkook?”

“mm, yeah baby?”

the pet name seems to slip out of his mouth, and you’re taken aback at first, enough to snap your head up towards him. he doesn’t look back, instead shuffling off the bed entirely, presumably to go clean himself up.

“don’t kick me out, ‘kay?”

“okay, baby. stay as long as you need.”

-

when you wake up, it’s to a bag of McDonald’s next to you, and yet another note.

you’re not surprised, though. it was clear that whatever you had with jungkook would be a one and done thing, and you’re grateful that he at least let you stay the night.

he seems to have packed up, and your memory may be failing you but it’s likely that he’s gone to fly off to get to another one of his shows somewhere in new york. or any other big city. you decide to look it up later, the dull pounding in your head not letting you wrack your brain further.

the note, however, seems to do the ‘looking up’ for you.

xxx-xxx-xxx

text me, i’ll fly you out to new york.

p.s. check-out’s at 3, sleepy head.

JK

#jungkook #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook/reader #jungkook blurbs #jungkook angst #jungkook series #jungkook drabble #jungkook fics #jungkook au #rockstar!jungkook

[singguks]

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[gukvante]

heartless

— pairing: jeongguk x reader

— genre: toxic relationship, non-idol au, smut

— rating: nsfw

— words: 2.4k+

— note: love, love, love rockstar jk so here we are. based off this jk hairstyle and this era of jk style. also, a disclaimer, i do not own the picture of jeongguk used in my banner. happy reading further <3

— warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, penetration, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), toxic relationship, creampie, no aftercare, mean!jeongguk, praise kink (kinda), dumbification (very little), tattooed + pierced jk 

— summary: you accidentally run into your favourite rockstar.

© gukvante —all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any medium is not permitted.

It took less than ten minutes for Soojin to convince your friend group that you just had to go to some random club because her favourite band was performing. Soojin wasn’t really your friend, more a friend of a friend. 

You had met her through Ju-kyang and she was more than happy to have another girl join their friend group. Before joining, said friend group had a total of three girls and four guys — something Soojin was irrational annoyed about. 

Soojin was quick to welcome you to the group, wanting to learn all about you and the life you were living at the time. She had specifically asked if there were any worthy men in your life and in that second there was a brief hesitation as you struggle to swallow the lump in your throat.

Fortunately, Soojin didn’t pay much mind as she took the brief silence as an opening for her to start talking about a guy she’s been pinning over for the longest of times. “He’s in a band and he’s beyond dreamy,” she sighed. 

Her words echoed in your mind, your eye twitching as all the oxygen in your lungs seemed to evaporate. “but they’re still super indie so I doubt you know them.” You let out a slow exhale in relief. 

But atlas, the moment of relief was short lived and all the air was forcibly pulled from the depths of your lungs. “His name is Jeongguk, it’s kinda cliché but he’s their lead vocalist.” She smiled, her eyes practically heart-shaped. 

“Sorry, I totally stole your thunder! You were about to tell me about a special someone?” Her head tilted slightly as her eyebrows raised.

After hearing the way she had spoken about Jeongguk, your Jeongguk, you couldn’t possibly tell her about that “special someone”. Not only would it create unnecessary competitiveness but technically Jeongguk wasn’t yours. He was just someone who’d call you up for a quick fuck. But you couldn’t help your feelings and it didn’t stop the burning jealousy that had spread through every vein you had.

Instead you gave her a polite smile and gently shook your head. “Actually, there’s no one right now. But I’m definitely open to meeting potentials.” 

You had to get over him, even if it meant using someone else like he used you. Soojin clapped her hands together, jumping in excitement talking about how she loves playing matchmaker. 

That conversation was four months ago, you’re still not over Jeongguk and Soojin keeps setting you up with guys that can’t compare. To be honest, Jeongguk wouldn’t even be in the same building as the men she kept sending your way. 

A deep sigh left your mouth as you looked over to Ju-kyang hoping she would give you an out. After she had realised that “Soojin’s Jeongguk” and “your Jeongguk” was the same person, Ju-kyang devoted all her time in redirecting the conversation elsewhere whenever his name was mentioned. But this time ‘round all she had to offer was a sheepish smile and a small shrug. 

“You guys are taking way too long! I’m gonna go ahead with Yoongi and Seo-jun.” Soojin all but screams up the stairs. “Okay! We’ll be there soon.” It’s Ju-kyang answering as you sit on her bed staring at your reflection in the full length mirror. 

Ju-kyang’s hand freezes as she catches sight of you in the reflection, she sighed closing her lip gloss before standing up straight. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think it would be good for you to see him again.” 

Your head lifted, your expression turning sour. “What I mean is, I think it’s good because if you continue to just ignore his existence, you will never actually move on. So maybe seeing him and making peace with the situation will help.” She explained, offering a soft smile. 

Your head fell once again, letting out another sigh, forcing your body to stand on shaky legs. Readjusting your outfit, you looked over to Ju-kyang with a hopeful smile. “Maybe you’re right. I would do anything to feel nothing at this point.” 

Ju-Kyang, you, Yuna, Jaehyun and Jimin showed up about fifteen minutes after Soojin and the other boys. “You guys took way too long! You missed it!” Soojin shouted over the loud music. 

A small smile seemed to form on your face, “Guess it wasn’t meant to be”. You say over your shoulder, throwing Ju-kyang a knowing look. She just shrugged her shoulders and followed Yuna to the bar. 

It had been about twenty minutes since arriving at the club, you’re four shots deep and counting. You’re about to reach for the fifth before feeling a gentle tap on your left shoulder. You’re quick to turn your head. 

“Sorry to interrupt ma’am but you’ve been invited backstage.” A large man stood behind you, seemingly towering over the entire crowd. “Backstage? Invited? By who?” You asked confused, partially from the liquor and partly from the request. “By Sooho, ma’am.” Sooho? Is that one of the managers or something? Maybe it’s one of the friends of the band. 

Turning back, you take the fifth shot of the night, slamming the empty glass on the counter. You let out another sigh and nod your head, almost to convince yourself. Cranking your neck as far as it can go, you squint while looking up at the large man. “Sure, what could go wrong?”

It seems that God was indeed not on your side as you ate your words in an instant. What you had failed to realise was that Sooho was a bassist. More specifically, Jeongguk’s bassist. You stood in shock as you stared at Jeongguk who was seated on the couch backstage. 

Legs spread wide, body relaxed against the soft pillows as two sets of hands roam over his chest from both sides. Jeongguk’s head lifted at the sound of footsteps approaching, he raised an eyebrow.

“What? You stalking me now?” He snickered, almost amused. “What? No. I was invited back here.” You clap-back making sure to put emphasis on the word “invited”.  Jeongguk chuckled, “Sure. And who invited you exactly?” 

“I did.” A somewhat deep voice answered. Another tall, broad man stepped in to the light. Taking your hand, he placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, giving you a sinfully sweet smile that sent a chill down your spine. 

“I couldn’t help but notice such a beauty in the crowd, like a diamond in the rough. You are truly breath-taking up close.” Sooho smiled again. Jeongguk let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. He stood up, all but pushing the two girls aside. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, she would never settle for someone like you. You’re nowhere near her type, trust me.” He sighed, walking up to the two of you. Sooho’s expression turned sour immediately at his presence, he straightened his back and turned to look down at Jeongguk. 

“What would you know? You know nothing about her.” Sooho snapped. Jeongguk smirked, his tongue pushing against his inner cheek. He huffed again. 

“Me or him?” Jeongguk said staring straight at you, completely ignoring Sooho. “What?” Stunned, you really hoped that he wasn’t asking what you thought he was asking. 

“Who do want to fuck you tonight? Me or him?” Jeongguk repeated. Sooho turned to look at you, his smile dropped when he saw the look in your eyes.

“You.” A whispered answer escaped your slightly chapped lips. Jeongguk smirked, letting out another chuckle before tilting his head and looking at Sooho. “That’s what I thought. Come with me, pretty girl.” 

You spent months telling yourself this wouldn’t happen, that you wouldn’t fall into his trap again. So why were you following behind him like an obedient little puppy? Why was your heart racing as he lead you further and further backstage? Why was your pussy betraying you? A hot heat starting to spread throughout your chest while slick began to drip from between your thighs.

Loud slaps echoed through the thick air as Jeongguk drilled his thick cock into your sopping cunt. Moan after moan was forced from your lips from the position he had you in. 

Your legs pushed all the way up with Jeongguk’s hands in the crook of your knees pushing until your kneecaps were pressing against the soft pillows of the couch he had you folded on.

“Fuck, I always forget how wet you get,” Jeongguk grunted out. His hips speed up as your cunt continued to suck him in, a white ring forming around the base of his cock. “Look at you. Your pretty pussy is creaming.” 

You so badly wanted to deny it and say something mean back but every time your mouth opened, a loud moan of his name slipped out against your will. Jeongguk smirked, the pressure and power of each thrust increasing as he got more and more into it. 

Jeongguk couldn’t help it, feeling your pussy tightening and drenching his cock made his head spin. No matter how many girls he’d fucked and messed around with, no one compares to you, no pussy better than yours. 

Jeongguk pushes his cock as deep as possible, coming to a complete stop. You let out a whine in protest, quick to move your hips to coax him into fucking you stupid once again. 

Jeongguk titled his head back and sighed, your pussy clenched at the sight of his strong jaw, smooth neck and his built chest. He let out a breathy laugh, letting his head fall forward, his hair partially covering his pretty face. 

He leaned down further until his nose was almost touching yours, “You want a kiss, pretty girl?” 

Your eyes widened, Jeongguk never kissed you. No matter how much you begged him, he would always say that it was way too intimate. You were nodding your head before you could even fully comprehend what he had just said. 

Lips parted in surprise and confusion, you looked up at him in disbelief. “I just need you to do one thing for me.” He smirked down at you as his lips grazed yours, his eyes finally meeting yours. 

Running his tongue over his teeth, he watched intently as you laid there waiting for him like his perfect little whore. “I need you to tell me how good I’m making you feel,” he paused, pushing his forehead against yours. 

“and if you’re really good for me, I’ll even fill you up with my cum.” Your heart began racing, his words echoing in your head as he stared down at you. You were quick to nod your head in agreement but Jeongguk shook his head and tutted in response. 

“Use your words.”

“Please, fuck me Jeongguk. You know you’re the only one that can make me feel this good. Please!” You almost whined, desperately bucking your hips up while your pussy clenched around his hard cock. 

Jeongguk let out a low groan, immediately dipping his head down to press his lips against yours. You lifted your head slightly, eager to feel him against every inch of your body. Jeongguk pulled his hips back again, pushing back in as far as he could. 

You moaned as he began to fill you over and over again, allowing Jeongguk to slip his hot tongue in your mouth. 

This time it was Jeongguk that moaned as your pussy swallowed his cock like he’s never seen before. He pulled back, a thin string of saliva connecting you. 

“You’re so pretty, baby. Love seeing that look on your face, love fuckin’ you stupid.” He slurred. 

Another loud moan left your throat as he speed up, desperate to feel every part of your hot cunt. “I-I wanna cum on your cock s-so bad.” Jeongguk bit his lip, “Yeah? You wanna cum for me?” 

Jeongguk’s hips were relentless, drilling his thick cock deeper and deeper. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix every time he bottomed out. Your pussy was absolutely gushing at this point, pussy juice coating his cock and part of his thighs. 

“Your cock feels so good. You’re so deep . . .” your words became increasingly slurred as he continued to abuse your poor cunny. Jeongguk pushed his lips against yours, moaning into your mouth. 

Lifting your hips up, he began jackhammering into your pussy, reaching even deeper than you thought possible. The new position had him rubbing up against your g-spot, the pressure in your lower abdomen building rapidly. 

“’m gonna cum!” You spat out, almost warning him. 

“You’re gonna do more than just cum, baby. You’re gonna soak my cock even more like a good little girl, aren’t you?” You nodded your head as fast as you could, your moans getting louder and more frequent. 

A gargled shout of his name was all you could get out before your pussy began squirting all over his fat cock. Jeongguk groaned out your name as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. “Fuck — ‘m gonna fill your sweet pussy with my cum.”

He pressed his lips against yours as he bottomed out again, hot streams of cum began filling your pussy as a low groan rumbled from the depths of his chest. His breathing slowed as he pulled back, hovering over you. 

“Don’t forget who you belong to.” He warned, keeping eye contact. He pulled out completely, standing up while pulling his tight leather pants up. 

“Where are you going?” You said in a slight panic. Jeongguk looked back at you with a raised brow. “Second set is about to start, need to get ready.” 

Jeongguk pulled his shirt over his broad shoulders, “You should get going too, groupies aren’t allowed to be here without the band members around.” 

Groupie? Anger ignited in your veins, “You’re totally right! Since I’m a groupie, I should get ready to welcome Sooho back from the stage.” You spat back.

Jeongguk’s head snapped to where you were now seated, using your dress to cover your nude body. “Do that and there will be trouble.” He growled out as he ripped the door open and walked out. 

Just as you were walking out the room Jeongguk left you in, you heard the opening chords to their most popular song. Jeongguk’s nimble fingers working the electric guitar in the best way possible. Then came his almost sinful voice.

“Never need a bitch, I’m what a bitch needs. Tryna’ find the one that can fix me.”

You sighed, you wouldn’t be fixing him any time soon. 

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts #btsarmy #jungkook smut #jeonjeongguk #jeongguk smut #bts smut #rockstar!jungkook #rockstar!jungkook x reader #bts au #non-idol au #bts x reader #sub!reader x dom!jungkook #sub!reader x bts

[to-star-lake]

saved [ intro + pt. 1]

pairing | jimin x reader (x jungkook) ; rockstar au warnings |18+ Minors DNI; drug abuse, smoking, mentions of self-harm, character death, explicit sex, emotional trauma, toxic relationship

[ INTRO. ]

What would you have done differently? 

That’s a question I got asked a lot in the aftermath. And believe me, I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve thought about it from every angle, from every direction. I thought about the whole fucking thing, linearly, start to end. I thought about it at random times, about the pivotal moments, they only seemed arbitrary at the time, like they would have no impact. But they fucking did. Why couldn’t I see it at the time? 

But truthfully, there was nothing I could’ve done. 

There was only one person that could’ve saved her. 

But what do you do when the one person who could���ve saved her, needed saving himself? 

I was only 23 at the time, and I thought I knew everything about the world. I thought I knew what love was: something that would ruin you if you get too close. I thought I knew her, I thought I knew him. 

I can say now that I actually knew nothing. Not a single fucking thing. About the world, or about them. Them..always caught in their own universe, the way they’d laugh and sing together like nothing, no one else in the world existed. There was a time when I was driven mad by jealousy at the way they were. But I can understand now, or at least I think I do. Theirs was the kind of love that would not break, even in death. And theirs was the kind of love that could only bring pain.

I spent one year with Bulletproof. In that one year, I learned love, heartbreak, and loss, but most importantly the meaning of intent, and action, and consequences. Consequences...

There are memoirs being written about her already. They describe her and Jimin’s love like a greek tragedy, like some Shakespearean play. When I read them I want to grab the collar of the person who wrote it, throw them across their desk, smash their printer through their window, and rip apart every fucking word they dared to put on paper about her. How dare they sensationalize her story? How dare they reduce her life to mere words.

It’s the morning of the 12th of October. The day before Jimin’s birthday. The day of the anniversary of her passing. Yoongi will be here soon to pick me up.

No one will ever read this. Sometimes I feel stupid for writing this at all. But my friends say it’ll help. Writing shit down. It’s supposed to help. Well, I’m still waiting for the help part to happen. 

- JK, 10/12

/

“Shit-”

Yoongi cursed under his breath, the cigarette situated between his lips almost fell out as he hissed, turning the steering wheel, screeching the car to a stop on the side of the road. 

Jungkook turned and looked out the window at the thing that caught Yoongi’s attention. 

“Shit,” he muttered too. 

Both of them quickly shuffled out of the car, Jungkook running up the hill, fallen leaves and dried grass crunching underneath his boots and Yoongi followed behind him slowly. 

“I wonder how long he’s been here,” Jungkook sighed, coming to a stop. 

“Well, he smells like shit so I’d guess a few days,” Yoongi snuffed out his cigarette on the bottom of his boot, tucking it behind his ear for later. 

“Jimin-hyung, wake up..” Jungkook crouched down, tugging at Jimin’s shoulder to turn him over. 

He’d been lying face down in the grass, one hand clasped around the neck of a half-empty bottle of scotch. He was in a pair of dirty jeans and a flannel shirt that was covered in leaves and mud and stains, his hair was long and greasy. Jungkook tried not to be affected, but had to cover his nose because of the acrid smell of vomit nearby. He wondered how many times Jimin threw up, glancing around at the other empty bottles of liquor strewn about. 

“Put him in the car, I’ll clean this up,” Yoongi sighed, bending down to grab the bottle from Jimin’s hands. He pulled out his phone and dialed for the groundskeeper. “I’m so sorry, man-” 

“It’s alright, Mr. Min. It’s October 12th, I understand. We have to work together to look after him this time of year,” Jungkook heard the groundskeeper say on the phone. 

Yoongi thanked him, and Jungkook hooked one of Jimin’s arms around his neck, pulling him up. Jimin groaned, which was a good sign because that meant he was coming to. 

“Will you bring the flowers back up after you put him in the car?” Yoongi called after Jungkook, who turned his head and nodded in response. 

“No, no, where are you taking me, get your fucking hands off me,” Jimin muttered incoherently, throwing ineffective fists at Jungkook as he tried to set him down in the backseat of Yoongi’s car, his limp body falling back onto the seat. “It’s my fucking birthday tomorrow, she said she’s gonna be here..she called me, she said she’ll be here...”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, trying his best to ignore Jimin, pulling at his legs to swing them into the car. 

“She said she was gonna be here, she’s a fucking liar!” Jimin screamed, his body shriveling up into a fetal position on the backseat, burying his head in his hands. Jungkook felt his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his cheeks grew hot, liquid building up at the corners of his eyes. 

He shook his head, closing the door of the car gently as Jimin continued muttering something, drooling into the fabric of the seat. Turning, he saw a black Mercedes pull up. The doors opened, Jin and his wife stepped out, both wearing black. 

“Hey man,” Jin caught Jungkook’s hand and pulled him into a hug. His wife handed Jin the large bouquet in her hands and gave Jungkook a hug too. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” 

“I’m alright, noona,” Jungkook answered quietly. 

She nodded and they both glanced at the backseat of Yoongi’s car. 

“Every fucking year,” Jin sighed, shaking his head. “I wish he’d get his shit together.” 

“Seokjin!” his wife chastised. “Don’t be insensitive.” 

“You think y/n would want him to live like this??” he scoffed, slipping a cigarette between his lips and turning to head up the hill towards Yoongi. 

She sighed. “He doesn’t mean to be so hurtful, it’s just...he’s always angry, every year too when this comes around...he doesn’t like to show how much it affects him too..”

“I know, noona,” Jungkook whispered. Turning around to the passenger seat of Yoongi’s car, he picked up a bouquet of white lilies. Jin’s wife smiled, linking arms with him and headed up the hill to join the others. 

Yoongi was talking with the groundskeeper, who had hosed away the puddles of dried vomit and was now shoveling new mulch and peat moss over the dead patches of grass. Jin stood, quietly looking at the headstone; at your name, the inscribed dates, a crude frame of your life. And under that, the one who always had love in her heart for everyone. 

Yoongi took the bouquet from Jungkook and took a seat on the ground, setting the bouquet down, placing a hand on the cold stone plaque. 

“I found this rare recording of Hole at the CBGB’s in New York from 1986 at this super random record shop the other day,” Yoongi took a deep breath in. “When I got home I popped it onto the turntable and I actually took out my phone to call you cus I knew you’d kill me if I listened to it without you.” 

Jungkook gritted his teeth, a tear falling down his cheek against his will. He heard Jin stifle a sob from beside him. 

“I miss you y/n..” Jungkook heard a hitch in Yoongi’s voice. Another tear fell. He squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head to the sky as though gravity were the culprit, pulling his tears down against his will. 

“I miss you so fucking much..” Yoongi’s head fell over, his hand reaching up to cover his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. 

Jungkook thought about how he never sees Yoongi cry. Yoongi never cries. Never, except once a year.

[ PT. 1 ]

“Now they only have a few minutes before they have to go onstage, so please be brief.” 

Jungkook nodded, his heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursing as he followed behind Namjoon the manager through a crowded hallway that led backstage. He was flustered, the pit of his stomach churning with excitement and he kept bumping shoulders against the people lining the halls, apologizing profusely while Namjoon somehow managed to avoid running into anyone. 

“Alright, here, go on in, remember you only have a few minutes.” 

“Oh, well I-” Jungkook couldn’t finish his sentence, and was shoved through an open door. 

The room was tiny, with an old, faded blue velvet couch pushed against one wall. There was an old coffee table in the middle of the room, and the floor was littered with half empty bottles of beer, red plastic cups, cigarette butts, and guitar picks. The air was thick with the smell of liquor and tobacco smoke, Motley Crue’s Live Wire was blasting from the speakers on the opposite side of the room. 

Jungkook stood awkwardly in front of the door that closed behind him, his shoulders tensed up around his ears, and was suddenly super self conscious about his outfit choice: tight, faded jeans, with the knees blown out, a leopard print shirt, and a destroyed denim jacket over it. His heart pounded in his chest, feeling the strap of the guitar on his shoulder slowly sliding, his new eyebrow piercing starting to itch as blood rushed to his face. He wondered if he shouldn’t have gotten it done yesterday, maybe it was too soon. Everyone was going to see that it was still a little bit swollen, and would judge him and think he’s trying too hard. 

He gulped, looking around. He knew all of your names. He’d been a fan for almost a year now, and had followed you guys around to three cities on your tour. 

Jin, the bassist, stood in front of a dirty mirror on the wall, adjusting his tie, practicing a wink, bobbing his head to the beat of the song banging through the speakers. 

Yoongi, the guitarist, was seated quietly on the sofa with a pair of headphones on, tuning the guitar on his lap. Beside him was Jimin, the drummer, who was leaned back languidly, his arms thrown over the back of the couch, a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. 

And you. 

“Seokjin, please I am begging you do not do your fucking flying kiss shit tonight, I am BEGGING you.” 

Jungkook felt his heart skip hearing your voice.

“Fuck you, the ladies love it,” Jin spat back, eyes glued to his reflection. 

“Yoongi, please make him stop,” you groaned, plopping down on the sofa between him and Jimin, your hands pressing the edge of your plaid skirt against the velvet fabric. 

“Not getting involved,” Yoongi shook his head, lighting a cigarette. 

You rolled your eyes, and caught Jungkook in the periphery. He gulped, Motley Crue slammed into Black Sabbath’s Children of the Grave over the speakers.

“You came!” 

Jungkook thought his heart must’ve stopped when you jumped to your feet, and ran over to him, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so glad you made it!” he felt your lips on his cheek, soft and warm. 

“Yeah..uh..thank you guys for inviting me, again,” he replied nervously, raising an unsure hand and waving at the guys around the room. 

Yoongi gave him a small nod. 

“Hey man, glad you’re here,” Jimin walked up, catching his hand in a shake, which caused Jungkook’s heart to skip again. 

Jin didn’t acknowledge him. But Jungkook saw you rolled your eyes at this.

“Don’t worry, Narcissus over there will soon get what’s coming to him.” 

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh at this. 

The door swung open and Namjoon poked his head through.

“Let’s go guys, it’s time.” 

“FUCK YEAH, I’m so fucking ready,” Jin spat, picking up his bass guitar that was leaned against the wall. 

Yoongi quietly swung the strap of his instrument over his shoulder and gave Jungkook another nod as he ducked past him. 

“Enjoy the show man, we’ll see you after,” Jimin gave a light tap on the side of his arm before walking out.

“Come on,” you smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him out into the hallway. 

“Alright, here’s where we leave you. Make sure to get yourself a spot at the very front so you can get a good view of us,” you smiled up at him, planting another peck on his cheek. “Oh, and one more thing,” you turned at the black curtains by the edge of the stage before walking out. “Be sure to listen closely, we expect you to be able to jump right in once we get you in the studio with us next week.” 

You winked and walked out to deafening screams and Jungkook stood, stunned, feeling like he’d had the wind knocked out of him for five whole minutes. 

/ 

“That was so fucking sick!” 

Jungkook bunched his shoulders together, nervously following you through the crowded entryway of the mansion the band was renting while working on the new album. 

He took the drink you handed him and you clinked your plastic cup against his, “Wasn’t it so fucking sick tonight?” you yelled into his ear over the heavy bass of the song slamming through the speakers. 

“Yeah, you guys were amazing!” he yelled back, glancing around nervously. “Do you guys always throw a party like this after a show?” 

You laughed. “We used to, but then we stopped cus shit would get super out of hand once we got more big. But I guess people got so used to us doing this that they just kept showing up even if we didn’t plan on having a party!” you took a long sip of your drink. 

He nodded quietly. 

“Hey!” you placed your hand on the side of his arm, giving him a little squeeze. “Try to have some fun tonight! You look all timid and tense, you shouldn’t! You’re gonna be the new lead guitarist for Bulletproof! You’re gonna fucking kill it!” 

Jungkook smiled at this, letting out a quiet sigh, feeling some pressure relieve, while more pressure built up. 

“Alright, I gotta go say hi to some people, go! Have fun!” 

He waved as you receded through the crowds of people. 

He watched you guys quietly throughout the evening. Jin, seated on a large leather sofa in the living room, surrounded by girls on either side, all tugging and pulling at his hair, at his tie, a great wide grin spread across his face, a cigarette between his teeth. 

At Yoongi, who sat quietly at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, a scotch on ice in a highball glass in his hand, conversing with one of Bulletproof’s producers. 

At you, bouncing from crowd to crowd. You’d just started a conversation with one group when someone would emerge out of nowhere and pull you into another. You smiled big, greeting everybody and hugging everybody, tossing your head back in laughter, posing for endless photos. 

Jungkook knew. As much as he wanted some alone time with you. As much as he wanted to be seated in a quiet room with you, so he could show you his music, so he could listen to you sing the melodies he’d written, just for you...he couldn’t. Because of everyone else. Everybody loved you. Everybody wanted a piece of you. 

Jungkook had taken a seat in the drawing room, on a sofa across from where Jimin sat, a cute blonde girl in his lap, with her arms clasped tightly around his neck, who kept whispering things into his ear. Jimin listened, smiling. Jungkook watched them for a while and couldn’t tell for the life of him if Jimin was being genuine to this girl, or if he just found her amusing. He decided it was probably the latter. 

The evening drew on, and Jungkook had just politely refused the group of guys and girls that crowded the coffee table in front of him, one of them chopping rails with a credit card on the back of a magazine. Nirvana’s Come As You Are was cranking through the speakers and Jungkook was about to get up to get another drink when he saw you turning the corner into the room, finding Jimin on the sofa. You looked somewhat different, your face looked a little sunken in, makeup a bit smudged around your eyes. You must be tired, he thought. 

He watched with wide eyes as the cute blonde girl threw her arms up at your entrance and you leaned down and planted a long kiss on her lips. His eyes darted to Jimin, whose expression didn’t change a bit. 

“y/n, you were so fucking amazing tonight!” the girl shrieked when you pulled away. 

“Thank you, Mira, sweetie,” you gave her nose a little boop. You turned to Jimin, and ran a hand through his hair. 

“You heading up already?” he asked, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. 

You nodded, “I’m beat. Have a good night you guys.” 

You turned to leave, and Jungkook watched your arm linger for a moment behind you, Jimin’s hand reluctantly letting yours go. He thought this was his chance. 

Quietly, he followed behind you as you made your way back through the kitchen, giving Yoongi a back hug and a kiss on the cheek, bidding him goodnight. Through the living room, where you found Jin, two girls on his lap, one was trying to get her tongue as far down his throat as possible, the other was busy leaving hickies on his neck. You’d only scoffed, and turned to head upstairs. 

Jungkook had pulled his notebook from his guitar bag by the door, and clutched it tightly to his chest as he followed silently behind you up three flights of stairs. He was ducked behind a wall, and saw you disappear into a room at the end of a long hallway. Hole’s Celebrity Skin began playing, muted through the thick marble walls from downstairs. His hand gripped around the spine of his notebook and he approached the opened door to your darkened room nervously, and was about to knock when he saw you flip on the bathroom light and leaned forward, your hands on the marble counter, your head hanging. 

He moved through the open door, a question about your welfare catching in his throat when he saw you pull out a tin of altoids from the little pocket on the back of your skirt. 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, focusing in on the little metal box in your hands, and his eyes grew wide at the realization that it did not hold breath mints. 

He watched you dump its contents onto the marble vanity; little blue, yellow, and white pills. He watched you pick out the little yellow colored ones, tossing one into your mouth and swallowing it with a glob of spit. You crowded a few others together on the countertop, and using the bottom of a glass that held a toothbrush, crushed and ground them into a powder. 

He stood, frozen, watching as you bent down, one finger holding on nostril shut and, one snort, two snorts. You stood, rubbing at your nose, sniffling. Jungkook felt his fist clench at his side, his other hand gripped so tightly around his notebook he was leaving a dent in the binding. He could see your reflection in the mirror, your pupils blown out so wide your eyes looked like black holes in their sockets. 

“y/n?”

Jungkook heard Jimin’s voice calling from outside in the hall. Panicked, not wanting to be caught here, he knew he shouldn’t be here, he saw the closet door at the adjacent wall, slightly ajar and ducked into it. 

“y/n?” Through the crack in the door, he saw Jimin enter the room. 

He heard the door shut behind Jimin, the latch of the lock clicking. He walked into the bathroom, and Jungkook shuffled quietly to one end of the closet, peering through the crack between the door and the wall. 

He watched Jimin move up behind you, his arms reaching down and wrapping around your waist, resting his head in the crook of your neck. Jungkook found himself holding his breath again in an attempt to quell his heart that was pounding in his chest. 

“You sang beautifully tonight,” he heard Jimin whisper into your skin. You’d slid a cigarette between your teeth, lighting it and taking a drag. 

“Really?” 

“Really.”

The little crack was enough for Jungkook to see you turn to face Jimin, lace your arms up around his neck and lean up into him. Your lips met his, and Jimin greeted you eagerly, his fingers gripped tightly into your waist, lifting you and setting you down on the counter with ease. 

Your kisses were hurried, hungry, and Jimin indulged you, giving himself to you, letting you be consumed with him. 

“Do you still want me tonight?” Jimin asked through gasped breaths. 

You pulled him close, your lips on his neck. “I always want you,” you whispered. 

Jungkook felt a huge lump forming in his throat, his mouth dry, his eyes stinging from staring. He wanted to swallow, but feared making any sound and being discovered. He’d hoped Jimin would close the bathroom door behind him so he could sneak back out, but it was clear now there was no easy way out. He watched through the crack in the door as Jimin pulled your tank top over your head, his hand reaching behind you and unclasping your bra with ease. He watched Jimin pull you close, his mouth covering yours, and he reached out, pushing the pills on the countertop away. 

“Fuck me in the shower,” he heard you whisper in Jimin’s ear. Jimin tugged roughly at your hips, pulling you into the shower, one hand unzipping your skirt and pulling it down, the other reaching for the silver knob on the wall. Water poured down over your bodies and hurried hands tugged and pulled at the rest of the clothes that the two of you still had on. 

Steam rose and Jungkook watched Jimin pin you against the marble tiles, turning your head to face him to kiss you, to catch your moans on his tongue. Jimin ground his hips into you from behind, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other across your chest, holding you flush against him. Jungkook swallowed thickly, his breath hitching when he saw Jimin’s hand travel up and close around your throat and you let your head back against his shoulder. The rhythm of your moans was becoming uneven, and Jimin’s hand closed tighter but quickly moved over your opened mouth to cover a scream, and both your bodies fell languid against the tiles. 

Jimin held you up, squeezing soap onto your body and his, letting the hot water wash over both of you, his hands gently brushing across your skin. He’d turned the water off, bringing you out of the shower and dried your body and hair with a towel before carrying you back into the room. He’d picked you up, and laid you gently onto the bed and you fell back limply. He pulled the covers over your body, taking a seat by your side and pressed soft kisses on your forehead. 

“Are you ok?” he asked in a whisper. You nodded, and he smiled. “Sleep well, love.” 

Jungkook was holding his breath, his entire body tensed and still and beginning to cramp. He watched Jimin sit like that beside you for a few quiet moments, watching as you drifted off to sleep. 

“You can come out now.” 

Jungkook’s heart jumped, his legs frozen beneath him. Shit.

He saw Jimin stand, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, lighting one. He turned and moved towards the closet. Jungkook stepped backward on instinct, but tripped on something below his feet, falling, and taking down a pile of clothes with him, their hangers clattering around him, one of his boots kicking the closet door open in the process. 

“Ow..” he swiped at the top of his head where a shoebox landed a second ago. He looked up to find Jimin standing over him, naked, a stream of smoke streaming from the corners of his mouth. 

Jimin sighed, and reached behind Jungkook, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and slid his legs into them. He then held a hand out, which Jungkook took, and helped him to stand. Without a word, he moved over to the little table beside the bedroom’s balcony door and took a seat at one of the chairs. Jungkook stood, dumbfounded, embarrassed, ashamed, scared, his cheeks growing hot. 

“Sit.” Jimin beckoned at the chair beside him. 

Unable to do anything else, Jungkook made his way over, taking a seat in the empty chair. A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed, the only sound was the quiet thumping of music from downstairs, and the light crackling of the end of Jimin’s cigarette burning to ash when he took a drag. 

“H-How did you know I was in there?” Jungkook finally asked. 

“I saw you follow her up here,” smoke poured out from Jimin’s nostrils as he responded. “I didn’t see you anywhere in the hall, I figured you must’ve hid in here when I came in.” 

Jungkook pondered this response for a moment, his brows furrowing at a realization. Did he..do this on purpose? Knowing I was here? Knowing I’d be watching?

He was about to ask when Jimin stood, and made his way into the bathroom. Jungkook watched as he stood in front of the vanity, sighing as he looked down at the pills and the smeared little pile of powder. He reached a hand out, swiping everything into his palm and walked over to the toilet. He tilted his hand, dumping everything into the water, and flushed it all away. 

“I know you’ve been watching her all night,” he continued, moving back and taking a seat beside Jungkook again. “Did you see who gave her the pills?” 

An image of you from earlier flashed through Jungkook’s mind: your darkened gaze, the smeared mascara under your eyes. 

“No, I didn’t..” he answered quietly. “Um..I hope it’s okay for me to ask...so, you and y/n..you’re together?” He never knew, and in fact, no one knew. There was never anything on the news, nothing in the gossip blogs, no paparazzi photos. This must be a well-guarded secret. He wondered if the rest of the band knew. 

Jimin smiled. 

“It’s just-,” Jungkook shook his head a little, embarrassed that he asked the question. You didn’t have to be together to sleep together, he thought to himself. “Sorry, it’s just..you two seem really close..I mean, compared to the other guys.”

Jimin took a long drag. “y/n and I have known each other since we were teenagers,” he said softly. “When we turned 18, we moved in together into this shitty little apartment in the city. It was so small, and there were cockroaches in the kitchen, and we had this one tiny window. She was on her way, she had gotten into a really prestigious music school, she was probably going to be in famous plays and musicals. I was selfish, I guess, and crazy possessive. I told her I loved her, that I needed her with me. I told her that because she loved to sing, that I would write songs for her to sing. I told her to only sing songs that I wrote for her,” he laughed, almost bitterly. Jungkook swallowed, his fingers gripped tightly around the notebook in his lap. 

“And she just smiled. She just fucking smiled and told me ‘okay.’ She crushed my heart at that moment. She took my heart, and crushed it, and to this day holds it in the palm of her hand. She could kill me in cold blood and I wouldn’t bat an eye. I’d do anything for her. I love her more than anything in this world.” He took another long drag. “She saved me. I was a complete fucking delinquent in school, I had nothing going for me. Except one day in middle school when she came up to me in the stairwell during lunch and pulled the headphones off my ears and told me, ‘I like Nirvana too.’ When she sang to me for the first time, I thought that’s what angels sound like. She belongs onstage. Everyone loves her. She gave me a future.” 

Jungkook looked down at the worn cover of the notebook in his lap. I told her to only sing songs that I wrote for her.

“She really likes you, man.” 

Jungkook’s eyes shot back up at Jimin, his cheeks flushing. 

Jimin smiled again. “The first night in that cramped little apartment we sat on our mattress on the floor and looked out the window. There was no view, it looked directly at this cracked brick wall of the building next door. That night I told her that I would make it so that one day she could sing on a stage in front of thousands of people, we’d live in a huge mansion, and have crazy parties all the time, and she would be happy.” He leaned forward, smudging out his cigarette on a crystal tray on the table. “We’re playing arenas now. We’re here in this mansion. People line up and beg to party with us. And she’s up here by herself downing percocets.” 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips drop. 

“You like her too, don’t you?” He was caught off guard by Jimin’s question. “Don’t you?” 

He moved his head in the smallest nod. 

“Then help me. I got her sold out arenas, I got her all this glitz and glamour. And I told her she would be happy and I will not be made a fucking liar.” 

Jungkook glanced at the toilet in the bathroom, then back at the vanity. At the residuals of the smeared powder on the countertop. He turned and looked at you, your breaths soft in sleep. He thought of your laugh and your smile, how nice and sweet you’d been to him ever since the first time he nervously approached you after a concert, asking if he could play a song for you. How you listened so intently, told him you loved his lyrics and gave him genuine feedback on his composition. 

I love her more than anything in this world. 

I told her to only sing songs I wrote for her. 

I got her sold out arenas. 

I got her all this glitz and glamour. 

Jungkook felt his jaw clench. I this, I that, that’s a lot of fucking I’s for someone that claims he only lives for her, he thought to himself. 

And she’s up here by herself downing percocets. 

He gritted his teeth. He wondered if Jimin knew the meaning of the word love. He wondered if Jimin knew you at all. 

pt. 2

#it's been so long since i've written for bts are ya'll still here T-T #anyway #get ready for PAIN #bts fanfiction #bts series #bts fanfic #bts angst #jimin x reader #jimin angst #rockstar jimin #bts rockstar au #jungkook x reader #jimin series #jimin fanfiction #jungkook series #jungkook fanfiction #rockstar jungkook #bts smut

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 7 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, a ton and a half of mutual pining, SLOW BURN

words: 9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 7 ► my secrets are burning a hole through my heart

When Jungkook returned to his own bunk that night, he drew his curtains and spent the whole bus ride to Copenhagen plotting his next move, wishing he’d stayed next to you as you slept, and cursing his friends all at the same time.

He knew that, to Sid, it must have felt like Jungkook had already lost the bet. He’d admitted to being in love with you, and there couldn't be a bigger loss than the vulnerability that comes with having feelings—not to a loser like Sid, at least.

So, it was a matter of pride that first time in Prague, when Sid proposed the bet. Jungkook couldn’t have his friends think that, all these years later, he was still obsessed with you. Still down bad—very bad—for you.

And a casual date was supposed to prove that he was casual.

He wasn’t. God, there was casual, and there was him when he saw you, dressed up for the wedding, on the train.

He supposed it irked him, this realisation, this persistent, undying love. Not because he didn’t want to be in love with you—that was out of his control, he couldn’t help his feelings—but because this was supposed to mean that his friends had been right.

But he didn’t think they were right.

They treated his love for you like something to be embarrassed about. Something shameful, pathetic.

In reality, it was the opposite. The moments he’d shared with you over the past few days lingered in the corners of his mind, and it made him happy, and hopeful, and lucky, and full of positive adjectives that flooded his mind each time he remembered your smile after that cursed Backstreet Boys performance at the wedding.

And he knew he was different from his friends who only felt butterflies when they were hugging a bottle of Bacardi or sitting behind the wheel of a race car. But different didn’t mean worse.

That had been typical Sid, needing to prove that he was better. That he was superior precisely because he wasn’t in love with anyone.

And Tristan had realised at the bar earlier that the point he was really trying to make with this bet was that, yes, he was in love with you four years after you broke up. But it wasn’t pathetic, and it wasn’t shameful.

And he wasn’t inferior to Sid because of it.

He could make him lose this bet despite still being in love with you.

Which, Jungkook realised—as he rolled over on his back and exhaled so deeply, the covers fluttered around his bunk—was pathetic. It made sense to care about you, because, at least, you’d cared about him, too, once upon a time. But Sid, most likely, never did.

And yet Jungkook still wanted to make him crumble, purely because Sid went around playing games, manipulating people, and doing whatever the hell he wanted, and never—never—suffering any consequences of his actions.

In a way, Jungkook supposed, he deserved consequences, too. He almost expected inconveniences to begin striking him as payback for agreeing to Sid’s game. As karma.

He didn’t want that, and he was afraid these inconveniences would grow: a bird would crap on him, he’d forget the lyrics to his songs, fall off the stage, get hit by a bus on his way out of the venue—and, to top it off, you’d stop talking to him after learning about the bet.

No. No, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

He tried to reason with himself then: did he really care about his Katana that much?

But that didn’t work, because he knew he did.

He’d bought the bike with his first paycheck—actually, his sixth, because he wasn’t being paid much when Rated Riot first started out, and the bike, even damaged, cost a fortune. And he’d repaired it from the terrible condition it was in all by himself; the engine almost literally crumbled in his hands.

He was proud of it. He loved it. He did not want to lose it, not to anyone, and especially not to Sid and Jude: one of them would never shut up if Jungkook lost this bet, and the other one would probably forget about it after a few days, but the principle was the same.

This wouldn’t work, he had to keep the bike.

Then, he tried to find a way around the conditions that Sid had come up with: he clarified that both of you had to know that you were back together. That, unfortunately, eliminated the possibility of Jungkook making it seem like you were back together, even though you weren’t; not really.

But then there was the condition of not telling you about the bet. What if he asked someone else to tell you? He supposed that could work—unless it’d make everything much worse since you wouldn’t hear about it from him, and you’d be so mad, you’d stop talking to him anyway.

No, that was too risky; it wouldn’t work either.

Finally, he figured, he was going to have to win the bet fairly, because of the following reasons: a) he couldn’t find a way to cheat, at least not at this point; b) he simply couldn’t let Sid win, not when he already won everything, because people were too intimidated to stand up to him; c) he couldn’t lose his bike; and, most importantly, d) he really did want to get back together with you and shuddered at the thought of losing you.

The tour bus reached Copenhagen in the early hours of the afternoon.

Nearly everyone had plans for the day before the soundcheck – Taehyung and Luna had decided to see the Tivoli Gardens before you even reached Denmark, and Yoongi and Hoseok decided to be the third and the fourth wheel respectively.

Sid, Jude, and Minjun had, weirdly, split up. You weren’t aware of each of their whereabouts, but you knew Jungkook didn’t go with them, citing his reasoning as “couldn’t decide which one of them to go with”. You assumed he would eventually end up joining Taehyung and Luna, too.

Meanwhile, you stayed back to help the crew prepare for the show—you thought you had to, since you still felt guilty for getting drinks last night while everyone else stayed back to work.

Everyone looked overworked, yet insisted they were fine today. You sent a few of the staff members off to rest—they left the room, but you had a suspicion that they went to work elsewhere instead—and joined Seokjin in the empty venue.

The Rated Riot logo was already hoisted by the back of the stage. The lights on it still flickered when it was turned on; at certain points, it appeared as though the band’s name was “R-R-R-Rate it”. Not to mention, countless lightbulbs around the frame had shattered last night in Berlin, and made the logo look purposefully edgy—if you didn’t know why some of the bulbs weren’t working.

To solve this, the crew had strung fairy lights around the broken sign and curled some of the strings around the wall behind it, illuminating the dark backdrop of the stage. This accentuated the lettering and created a lightning bolt effect on the backdrop, even despite some of the lights not working.

You thought that, as soon as the crew fixed the flickering—they were working on it at the moment—you might actually like the logo better this way. Perhaps the roadies should be invited to the next concept meeting for the band.

However, you had to admit, you wouldn’t have stayed back if you’d known Seokjin would employ you to carry the equipment inside. You wanted to help, but not at the expense of your spine.

The venue for tonight wasn’t particularly big—none of them were, it’s why you loved Rated Riot’s gigs so much; all of them felt incredibly intimate—but the distance from the bus to the stage was a long one.

Now, Seokjin watched as you heaved the metal decorations with pitying eyes, yet did not offer his assistance – because he knew you would refuse, but also because he preferred to yell at people rather than to carry heavy things himself.

“Where am I putting this?” you huffed—not for the first time today; Seokjin insisted on supervising every piece of equipment individually instead of allowing you to drop everything wherever.

“This one can go anywhere,” he waved his hand around just as his phone started to ring in his hand. “I need to take th—hold on, not there!”

You blinked at him, already in the process of putting the metal frame down. “You said anywhere!”

“Anywhere but there!” he shouted as he picked up the call and turned his back to you, focusing on the conversation on his phone. “Yes? No! No. Really? No. Okay, yes.”

It was hard to tell if the conversation he was having was serious enough to ignore you, based on what you heard—but that was how phone conversations with him went; if you asked two questions at the same time, he’d only answer one and it was your responsibility to guess which one.

Deciding to just leave the metal frame anywhere—except where he initially said—and run out of here to help someone else before he could notice your absence, you strained to drag the decoration closer towards the stage. You attempted to lower it slowly, but your hands were nearly shaking at that point, and you ended up dropping it when it was a few inches off the ground. You barely managed to leap away from it as it landed with a clang far louder than was necessary.

Naturally, Seokjin turned around, displeased. Covering the speaker on his phone, he clicked his tongue.

“Please,” he said. “I appreciate your help, but don’t break anything. We’re already short on equipment after Berlin.”

“This weighs as much as I do,” you countered, straightening and immediately supporting your back with your hands as the bones somewhere cracked. You weren’t built for this. “And it’s metal. It’d break me before I could break it. Is this spot okay?”

“It’s fine. Could you bring out the mic stand, too, please? Thanks so much,” he said, and before you could react, he returned to his call. “I’m here. Yes. Mmhmm.”

Sighing as you attempted to stretch, you climbed up the stage steps and picked the microphone stand up from the nook by the exit to the changing area.

“Need some help?” a voice asked from the darkness behind you. You jumped so violently that you nearly tossed the stand in the direction the sound was coming from.

“Jesus,” you wheezed, clutching your chest as Jungkook came into the light from the hallway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and, not waiting for your response, took the stand from you and carried it to the middle of the stage.

“Thanks,” you said, watching him while you recovered. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“No problem,” he replied, lifting the stand to his height before placing it where he personally saw fit.

Seokjin could hardly complain—Jungkook was going to be the one who used the microphone, after all—and yet, as soon as he ended the call and turned around, he groaned loudly.

“No! Do you have any concept of what the middle of the stage is?” he yelled, approaching Jungkook, clearly determined to do this himself.

“I just thought it’d be better if—”

“It would not be better if,” Seokjin cut him off, climbing up the steps and grabbing the stand from him to place it in the right spot. “If it’s slightly to the left, then you’ll be knocking into Yoongi every time you lean back. If it’s to the right, then the same thing with Taehyung. Don’t even get me started on the stand being too far back, so you could successfully trip and fall into Hoseok’s drum set.”

Jungkook glanced at you—you closed your eyes and nodded, confirming that this lecture was a normal process of working with Seokjin—then looked back at the stage manager.

“I’m a real safety hazard in your eyes, aren’t I?” he joked.

“You are,” Seokjin replied completely seriously. Jungkook did a double-take as he’d already begun to turn to you again—to check if his little joke made you smile; it did. “Go now! It’s bad luck for the artist to see the stage before the concert.”

You snorted at this, while Jungkook frowned, confused by the logic—he was, technically, going to see the stage during the soundcheck—but he chose not to argue as he joined you at the back of the stage while Seokjin busied himself with repositioning the speakers at the front.

“Is he always like this?” Jungkook asked you in a concerned whisper as he glanced back over his shoulder. “I think I’ve only ever seen him laughing. This is a first for me.”

“Yeah, he’s stressed,” you explained. “Lots of back-to-back shows and all of the venues seem to have something wrong with them. At least, according to his standards.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “What else can I do to help?”

You lifted your eyebrows at this, genuinely worried that he was entering a new stage of masochism. “Are you kidding? Get out of here while he’s not looking.”

“No, I can—I can help,” he said despite his confidence faltering at your words. Perhaps he really should really have been running for his life.

“No, you can’t,” you retorted, placing a hand on his shoulder as you guided him towards the hallway. “You still have to perform later tonight. I’ll help; you rest.”

Jungkook stopped walking and turned around—you didn’t react quickly enough and your hand brushed over his chest as you pulled it away, the tips of your fingers catching on the soft material of his corduroy jacket.

“Well, he’s not looking right now,” he said, peeking at Seokjin again. “Let’s both go.”

You shook your head. The moment had suddenly become so melodramatic, your next line should have been, ‘it’s too late for me, go on without me.’

Simply, you disagreed, “I can’t—”

“Just for a quick break,” he cut you off, an almost pleading tone in his voice. He took your hand—or tried to, but ended up grabbing your wrist—as he pulled you after him into the dark hallway, towards the changing room. “You deserve it.”

Despite being unable to resist—he wasn’t very rough, but he was very determined not to let you out of his grip—you still tried to protest, “you don’t know that.”

“I know you and I know you deserve that,” he shot back and opened the door into the inner hallway, waiting for you to go in and, after you paused, encouraging, “come on.”

You relented with an uncertain sigh as you walked through the door.

The two of you entered Rated Riot’s changing room—currently empty because everyone else was out in the city—and you were surprised to feel relieved to be here alone.

You’d been working ever since you reached the city over three hours ago, save for a little break when you went to grab some coffee from the deli across the street right after you arrived. You hadn’t even realised how tired and hungry you were now.

“Should we order some food, then?” you asked. “I thought you left with the rest of the guys, so I didn’t plan any meals at the venue.”

“Actually,” Jungkook said, grabbing his phone from where he’d left it on the make-up table, “why don’t we go out to eat? I saw a fast-food place across the street.”

You’d seen it too when you were getting drinks, but you weren’t sure if leaving right now was a good idea—you were here so you could help the crew, after all.

Then again, this was just lunch – you’d be back in an hour, maybe even less. The soundcheck wouldn’t begin until two hours later, so the rest of the team probably wouldn’t be back before then. And it wasn’t like you’d be abandoning the crew, either, since Seokjin had them all under strict control.

“I guess we can do that,” you said, checking the pockets of your oversized leather jacket—there were many of them, and you needed a minute. “I think I left my wallet on the bus, though. We have to stop by there.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “My treat.”

Following the trip to Paris—which was his treat, too, since he’d bought the train tickets with his personal money—you were quick to dismiss this offer.

“I can send you the money from my phone,” you decided, walking back to the door of the changing room. “We can go.”

Jungkook sighed, mumbling under his breath, “impossible to do anything nice for you.”

You turned around, not sure what you’d just heard. “Hmm?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he replied with a quick shake of his head and reached over to hold the door open for you.

“We’ll probably have to sneak past Jin, though. I’m not sure how that’s going to—”

“We’re going out to get food!” Jungkook called out as the two of you walked down the hallway towards the stage. You looked at him in horror. He asked, “anyone want anything?”

“I’m good,” Seokjin replied when he saw you emerge. You paused, ready to stop and explain why you were leaving, but Jungkook took your hand again, pulling you with him down the stage steps.

“Oh—we’ll see you later,” you shouted to Seokjin—who mumbled something and waved in your general direction—and then yanked your hand out of Jungkook’s grip. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“What?” he lifted his eyebrows, surprised by your abrupt hostility. “Offer people to buy them food?”

“You can’t just announce that we’re leaving,” you said as you two made your way towards the exit of the venue. “You may be able to come and go as you please, but I’m not entitled to freedom like that. I have to ask if people are going to be okay while I’m gone.”

“See, but if you ask, then you’re giving them reasons not to be okay,” Jungkook argued. “And if you just say you’re leaving, then they have no choice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Life is so very simple for you.”

“It is,” he replied with a grin as he opened the back door for you. “And, as long as you’re with me, I can make it simple for you, too.”

The fast-food place that you’d both seen turned out to be a small hamburger restaurant. When you and Jungkook entered, it was empty, save for the waiter by the cash register.

He greeted you in Danish and even after your greetings in English, he continued to ask you something in his native language. When you apologised for not understanding, his eyes doubled in size and, he, too, apologised for not realising you weren’t local.

You decided to take this as a compliment. You had felt out of place wherever you went; so very obviously foreign here. Not that anyone minded it, but there was something oddly embarrassing about being a tourist. Even if you were, technically, here for work.

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was nice and calming; mellow instrumental music played on the speakers and large windows faced the beautiful brick buildings across the empty street. Really, putting you in a good mood required almost no effort today, but this restaurant being empty still made your heart soar.

You and Jungkook took seats at a table by the window and hung your jackets on the backs of your chairs. You both took a moment to enjoy the view before you picked up the dark brown paper menus on the table.

There weren’t a lot of options, so you were quick to choose. And, because this was a very small restaurant, you assumed you’d have at least twenty good minutes of taking in the sights outside the window—especially the pair of collies that had escaped their owner and were currently chasing each other down the cobblestone street—before your food would be brought to you. But it reached you mere minutes later.

The burgers looked very appetising, although the portions were bigger than either of you expected; french fries were hanging off your plates.

Like complete tourists, you and Jungkook clinked your burgers together before taking your first bites. You looked at each other immediately once you got the first taste.

“Oh, this is so good,” you whined, your mouth full.

“Right?” Jungkook nodded in eager agreement as he took another bite, frowning deeply and shaking his head as if in disbelief—you knew him well enough to recognise this as a sign of satisfaction. “Easily top ten best burgers I’ve had in my life.”

“Definitely,” you agreed. “And to think there aren’t any people here? I’m in awe.”

“I know, right?” he said again as he continued to chew—far longer than was necessary because he refused to swallow until he gathered enough courage to comment casually enough, “I’m glad I got to try this with you.”

You looked up from your burger. The collies outside had tired and lied down on the pavement, giving their owner enough time to catch his hat in the wind and reach his dogs. You were not sure what the meaningful look in Jungkook’s eyes was supposed to imply.

“Because I know how to do the Heimlich?” you offered.

He blinked at this. He was expecting all sorts of different questions after he said that, but this wasn’t one of them.

“No,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into an involuntary smile. “But that’s a good thing to know.”

“I am also, of course, the expert on burgers,” you guessed then.

“It’s not because of your skills,” he said. “It’s just because it’s you.”

You took another bite and, as you chewed, you picked up a napkin to wipe your lips. You felt very self-conscious suddenly. And you needed a moment—for what, you didn’t know.

The dogs outside refused the leash, jumping around their owner, who cursed in, at least, three different languages; you could hear as much from inside.

“Okay, listen,” you said after a minute, “so, if there was never any ex,” you watched Jungkook cringe softly as you mentioned this, “what is wrong with you?”

The brutality of the question took him off-guard as he coughed in surprise, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What?” he asked through spasms of coughing. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“You’ve been acting weird since the tour started.”

He employed an aura of nonchalance as he countered, “how am I acting weird?”

“Well, for one, you forced me to go to Paris with you,” you reminded him.

 “I don’t recall there being any forcing.”

“There was emotional forcing.”

He shook his head with a small roll of his eyes. “Fine. But that doesn’t prove that I’m acting weird.”

“Let’s say that’s true,” you said. “Then why are you here?

Jungkook put his burger down, wiping the crumbs on his hands with a napkin.

“Okay,” he said. “Now what is that supposed to mean? Can’t I be here?”

“Everyone else is sight-seeing,” you explained before the offence in his eyes could deepen. “Taehyung and Luna went to that theme park, and Yoongi and Hoseok tagged along. You know the one I mean.”

“Tivoli,” he said.

“Right,” you nodded. “Even your three musketeers went out. Why didn’t you go anywhere?”

“I’m sure they picked up some girls on their way, so they have enough company.”

You lifted your eyebrows at this; you could recall Sid and Jude chatting up girls at the concert last night in Berlin.  “More girls? Your fans weren’t enough?”

Jungkook tsked. “Our fans have better taste.”

Your expression softened.

“Good point,” you said, returning your attention to your food. “Why didn’t you go to Tivoli then?”

“Because you weren’t going,” he replied so quickly, your eyes fluttered back to him.

Another long, heavy moment passed. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way you were tiptoeing on the edges of the topic that you were almost discussing.

“See, that’s weird,” you said as your gaze slid down his chest and then settled on the view outside of the restaurant window.

With the dogs gone, the street was completely empty and, somehow, this emptiness amplified the silence inside of the restaurant. The muzak changed according to the flow of your conversation; you could barely hear the instrumental beat anymore.

Jungkook understood your reasoning—he heard the implication in his own words—and he saw the way you began to avoid his gaze as soon as he admitted that he’d stayed back for you.

But you didn’t just look surprised, you looked almost frightened. Like he’d just told you he was thinking of proposing – either to you, or to this burger.

It shocked him because, while he expected resistance, he wasn’t expecting fear.

His question was genuine after he cleared his throat, “why is that weird?”

“Why would you not go if I’m not going?” you asked, repeating his previous statement with an incredulous scoff—like the very thought of him feeling this way was outrageous and you were astonished he didn’t see that.

Slowly, he shrugged one of his shoulders, afraid to move too much—as if you were a stray deer that had wandered a bit too close to the residential neighbourhood and he was a kid who’d just discovered you; one move that was too quick, and you’d run away in a blind panic.

“Because,” he said as an explanation.

You dared to look at him, encouraged—and angered—by the abrupt end of his sentence. “Because why?”

“I’d rather be here,” he said then.

He did not know how to navigate his way out of this one.

After everything that happened between the two of you in the past few days, you had, clearly, received some sort of signals that he’d been sending you—both consciously, and subconsciously. They weren’t exactly subtle, after all. And yet you were determined to draw your blinds shut and ignore every single one of them.

“Why?” you asked again, your patience wearing thin as you distracted yourself with the french fries.

“God,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. Since he couldn’t just blurt out the truth about his feelings for you—but you looked like he’d just had, and he was horrified all over again—he had to use his favourite tactic of diverting your attention. “Do you need reasons for everything?”

“Not everything, but at least something,” you said. “You’re answering all of my questions with other questions.”

“Why do you even have questions?” he shot back. “Do you not enjoy my company?”

“You’re doing it again!” you accused, your hands rising on their own accord. “Seriously. What’s up? Are you nervous about the tour or something? I thought I made it clear that you could talk to me.”

Oh—this made him pause.

You thought he was doing this—again, what was he doing? Because it stopped seeming like flirting a long time ago—due to anxiety. You thought he was being evasive, and, therefore, weird around you.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could make this work in his favour and avoid lying at the same time.

“I just want to spend time with you,” he ended up saying, which was true. And because you kept your eyes on him after he said this, he felt confident enough to add, “we used to be close. I-I’d like that again.”

At that point, he thought he’d understand if you would get up and leave. He wasn’t sure if he would have followed; he didn’t think he had that right, not after he didn’t follow you the first time you left him. But you looked down to your plate and picked up another french fry, toying with it between your fingers.

He hadn’t proposed anything particularly awful—although he avoided saying ‘friends’ with such intensity that it only magnified the deeper implication of the word—yet he felt like a death row prisoner waiting to hear the date of his execution.

“Why now?” you asked, finally putting the fry in your mouth and biting into it.

The wait for your response had been excruciating. He needed to make you see that this was not a big deal.

“Why not?” he replied, his voice a tad too casual, showing just how hard he was trying to appear calm, to conceal the overtime his heart was working in his chest. “We’re on tour, so we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

That sounded good in his head. But you looked at him in such a way that he thought he was about to hear that, despite overwhelming evidence in his favour, he was still going to be hanged in the town square.

“And after the tour ends?” you asked, setting the gallows up for him.

He thought about this for a moment and attempted to return to his usual nonchalance despite feeling sweaty all over.

“That’s not until two months later,” he said and realised, immediately, that this was the wrong answer.

He didn’t have enough time to correct himself before you scoffed again and asked, “so, why bother with a friendship if it won’t matter in two months?”

“That’s not what I wanted to say,” he retorted quickly. “Why would it not matter?”

You were the one who shrugged this time—the answer was obvious. “Did it matter before we came here?”

“It did,” he replied with complete certainty.

You looked away, but he saw the skepticism on your face and the way you hyper-focused on the street outside so as not to roll your eyes. “Oh, okay.”

“It did matter.”

Frowning at the offence in his voice, you returned your gaze to his face, trying to find the answers to the questions in your head. Especially this one: how could your relationship have mattered to him before the tour started?

“I don’t know what kind of a friendship you have with Sid and The Losers,” you said, “but in my experience, being friends with someone implies making an effort for them.”

“I was making an effort,” he continued to insist.

“Making an effort to get us both in trouble with the label.”

He knew that this was how you saw it—you were very clear about that each time he and his friends somehow managed to find themselves in an emergency—but he still didn’t think you were being fair.

“I always let you know where I am at the start of the night,” he defended.

“And I appreciate that—”

“Not just to inform you,” he continued. “It was always an open invitation.”

You brought your tongue over your lips as your eyes returned to your plate. You grabbed another fry, focusing on the salt on your tongue for a second.

The bell by the door rang, signalling the entrance of a new customer.

Nor you, nor Jungkook turned to look, feeling like your table by the window of the restaurant existed on a different plane of reality—a vacuum of sorts where only the two of you lived.

You could remember one instance when you had gotten the feeling—after one of Jungkook’s late-night texts with his location—that he’d sent it to you because he was subtly asking you to join him. You thought you had misunderstood.

You didn’t know how to feel now that you knew you hadn’t.

“I’m not asking to provoke you or to start an argument,” you spoke up, “but do you think that’s appropriate?”

That wasn’t a very good question, knowing that Jungkook was very liberal when it came to seeing things as appropriate—and he shrugged as soon as you asked this.

“Spending time outside of work?” he clarified. You nodded. He shrugged once more. “You hang out with Luna and Taehyung all the time. And Maggie. Why would it be different for us?”

It was a hilariously stupid question and you both knew it.

Keeping your eyes on his, you deadpanned, “right. Why would it?”

He fought back with just as much irony as he said, heated, “yeah. Exactly.”

Your gazes remained locked until your phone buzzed a few seconds later, the sound dull as it reverberated against the material of your jacket.

You twisted in your seat to get the device out of the pocket. While you did, Jungkook took another bite of his burger.

It was a text message from Jimin, who was typing in all caps to let you know that he and Namjoon had just arrived at the venue, and Seokjin—or, in Jimin’s panicked words, ‘SOEKEJIIN’—was in a frenzy so intense, he was either about to faint or force everyone around him to faint.

“It looks like I have to get back to work,” you said, sliding your phone back into the pocket of your jacket as you picked it up from the back of your chair. You missed the disappointment that descended on Jungkook’s face. With a sigh, you added, “I appreciate you trying to be friends with me, but—just—don’t do that because you feel like you have to, since we’re on tour. Or whatever other temporary reason you might—”

“It’s not because of temporary reasons,” he said as you stood up. He turned away when you looked at him, though, not wanting you to see his eyes in case Sid’s game was evident in them. He didn’t lie when he reiterated, “I mean that.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing not to argue even though your next words barely sounded like a compromise, “well, let’s wait and see. Maybe you’ll change your mind. I have to go, but finish your lunch and then I’ll see you after the—”

“I won’t change my mind.”

You paused again. “Okay. Well. You’ll understand why I’m going to need actions to support your words.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” he said. “We were having lunch together. Isn’t that a start?”

Clutching your jacket to yourself as you lingered by the table, you conceded hesitantly, “it’s a start…”

Encouraged by this, he threw his hands in the air before speaking.

“But you’re leaving me all by myself, so it does feel like I’m not getting the same treatment back,” he said, and it took you a second to catch the teasing glimmer in his eye. You’d almost forgotten how quick he was on his feet—which wasn’t always a good thing, because he used this to avoid uncomfortable topics. He questioned, “do you not want to be friends with me?”

You brought your teeth over your lower lip as you looked away. He knew you. He knew the intentional childishness would end up amusing you eventually—and he couldn’t help but feel proud when he saw your shoulders relax as you fought back a smile.

“I’d love to be friends with you,” you said. “And, as your friend, I have to make sure your band has a great performance tonight, so finish your food while I do my job. I’ll see you later.”

“Text me!” he shouted as you put your jacket on, already taking a step towards the door of the restaurant.

You turned back to look at him. “Text you? About what?”

“Anything. It’s what friends do.”

Laughing now, you pulled your phone out of your pocket just as it began to vibrate again.

“Eat,” you told him, “we’ll figure out how to be friends later.”

He nodded in response, even though he didn’t feel hungry anymore. He watched you walk out of the restaurant and run across the street, back to the venue. With a deep exhale, he picked up a fry that had fallen out of the pile on his plate and tossed it into his mouth.

He hadn’t fully grasped how serious you were when you said you didn’t believe in second chances. Perhaps he should have. In all the years that he’d known you, he’d never seen you restore a friendship with someone you’d stopped talking to.

You were the sort of person who stayed until the very last drop of your patience—and then some more. You weren’t someone who left easily, you endured. You had the highest tolerance threshold out of everyone he’d ever met. So, really, it was understandable why you didn’t believe in trying again.

Still, he was arrogant enough to consider himself different. To consider the two of you different.

Really, he had thought things were going well.

Until this moment here, that is. He hadn’t even done or said much today, but you were quick to determine that he had reached the line. And you were not going to let him cross it.

He’d assumed the line had gotten a bit further away. He thought he was allowed to say more to you, to be more personal about your relationship after your trip to Paris—the trip was fine, after all! You’d both had fun. But, now he was starting to think that, perhaps, the reason why the Paris trip went well was because, initially, you went on it thinking he had an ex that he wanted to get back together with.

You had thought you were, on some level, still doing your job—whether as his manager, or someone who’s known him for almost ten years now. Just having his back. Keeping him out of trouble.

You’d always been doing that, for as long as he could remember. You never even considered—he never made you consider—that there was more to it.

He knew now that he had thought about this all wrong. You assumed that he was joking around, participating in Sid’s pranks, not taking anything—not even you—seriously. And you were right, of course, but only in part.

Step One would be proving to you that he was serious.

Maybe you never believed in second chances because you were never shown that people deserved them. And he was determined to show you that he deserved it. To convince you that the two of you could be close again—so long as he could look past the bet and convince himself first.

After Rated Riot’s performance that night—which went by smoothly, of course, even though Yoongi tripped over a loose cable and forced Seokjin to spend the entirety of the encore cursing quietly under his breath—the members followed the tradition of going out to meet the fans. Meanwhile, you insisted on supervising the deconstruction of the stage, wanting—rather desperately—to avoid incidents similar to Berlin.

To be fair, calling it supervision was generous; all you did was repeatedly remind everyone to “take it slow” while taping boxes and holding doors. The roadies seemed to appreciate your input this time, although you couldn’t shake the feeling that these middle-aged men still only saw you as an eager six-year-old, who passionately wanted to be helpful.

You decided you were going to take it. At least, you were here and could witness all that was happening.

Eventually, you noticed that Seokjin had disappeared. You weren’t very concerned; he had so many things to look after that you figured there simply had to be something else that required his attention.

But here’s the thing about Seokjin – he was demanding, but he was also very caring. A manifestation of this was the plastic bowl, filled to the brim with lollipops, that he brought backstage when he returned fifteen minutes later.

“Here,” he announced. “I think we can all use this. Make sure all of you take some—but no more than five, so everyone has enough.”

You chuckled, assuming that this was more for a boost of morale than anything else, but you were soon surprised. It was almost funny, truly, how quickly every adult in the room leapt to the lollipop bowl.

Seokjin, in the meantime, made his way towards you. Three bright green, apple-flavoured lollipops were in his hand, and he pointed them at you.

“Hey,” he said. “This is for making you haul heavy things around the venue earlier.”

“That’s my job,” you replied, but took the suckers from him nonetheless. Apple was your favourite flavour.

“It’s not, though,” he disagreed. “You were here because you felt bad. You shouldn’t feel bad. What happened before was not your fault.”

Your smile was grateful and you reminded him, “it’s not yours, either.”

“I know that.” He exhaled somewhat sadly before continuing, “but that’s not as easy for me to say. The battens fell in Berlin, because the scissor lift got stuck on some middle setting, and the staff couldn’t reach properly. They had to unscrew the construction with their hands raised above their heads. I told them not to, but they insisted we were short on time. And I let them do it.”

You sighed, too. “If the schedule wasn’t so intense—”

“They would have probably still done it this way,” Seokjin finished. “They didn’t think anything would go wrong. That was just an excuse to get it over with faster.”

You’d heard a similar explanation yesterday when you were first called up after the incident – “we wanted to do this as fast as possible.”

Trying to brighten the mood, you said, “at least no one got hurt. And I’m sure it’s a lesson learned in any case.”

“It is. Because now you’re here, watching everything like a hawk,” he noted.

This surprised you—and Seokjin grinned at your raised eyebrows.

“It’s not like I can fire them if more things break,” you said.

“That’s the worst part,” he countered. He still had an entertained expression on his face, but something inside of him had softened. It was endearing how unaware you were of how much the staff here cared about you. He said, “they saw how distressed you were last night.”

You were still confused about the magnitude of your role here—the backstage crew didn’t respond directly to you. To be fair, even certain members of Rated Riot didn’t, even though they should have.

“Everyone who was here was distressed,” you said.

“True,” Seokjin nodded, “but they should have been; this was their job, and something went wrong. Meanwhile, your stress is just, sort of, collateral damage. They felt bad for upsetting you.”

You looked back at the staff behind you. Seeing these men—some large and scruffy, others tall and lanky, all of them intimidating in certain lighting—dismantle the stage construction while sucking on lollipops brought a smile to your face.

“I’m a little kid in their eyes,” you said then, “aren’t I?”

Seokjin had to be honest: despite his attempts to always be respectful, he, too, sometimes thought you were too young for the responsibilities of your job. You never proved him right, however, breezing through said responsibilities with an ease that he wouldn’t have expected from someone your age—he admired that.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted.

You snorted, but there were shadows of disappointment on your features that he was quick to notice. Sometimes you wondered if Seokjin had chosen stage management as an alternative to psychology.

“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “most of the people here treated me like a kid when we first met, too. And I’m older than some of the roadies. I guess I look very young.”

“What’d you do to make them respect you?” you asked.

“I started yelling.”

This got you to laugh. “Should I consider it?”

“I think that, sometimes, you should,” he replied. “They say that people shout when they don’t know enough words to whisper—or something like that—but I think differently. I think they shout because they care and they need others to care.”

“Hmm,” you turned your gaze away as various disagreements and full-blown arguments that you’d had in your life—most of them with the same person—flashed through your mind. “That… makes sense, I think.”

“Yeah, and besides,” Seokjin said, “yelling is fun. People pay attention to you. Sometimes they even fear you. I love it.”

You laughed again, even though you’d seen it yourself – new staff members tended to avoid Seokjin. Even you didn’t want to get in his way when he was setting the stage up.

But all of that was so he would get things done. And, once he did, he was easily the most entertaining person to be around—which meant a lot, considering you were literally on tour with rock artists right now.

“Maybe you should get on stage with Rated Riot one of these nights,” you teased, “that might satisfy your itch to be listened to.”

“You know what? I just might,” he played along, a grin spreading on his lips. Nodding at the candy in your hand, he said, “try the lollipops. We’re almost done here anyway.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Really. We wouldn’t be on tour if it weren’t for you.”

“There’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’,” he responded brightly. Then, he leaned closer to add in a teasing whisper, “but there is in ‘ass-kissing’.”

Your eyes widened as he snickered, pulling back and walking past you to help the crew carry the boxes outside. He looked at you over his shoulder, his expression cheerful.

“I meant what I said, you know!” you shouted after him.

“I know,” he called back. “I meant it, too. Go rest! This isn’t your responsibility.”

He picked up a box, propped it on his hip, and walked away before you could argue and offer your assistance anyway.

Figuring you might as well go and actually stop working for the day, you unwrapped one of the lollipops and made your way outside. The band was probably still having post-show drinks backstage, so you figured you could get a few minutes of quiet on the bus before everyone else returned.

Just as you exited the venue, however, you saw a white puff of smoke coming from somewhere on the side of the building. Popping the lollipop in your mouth, you stopped and waited for just a second, until the person bent down to shake the ash off the cigarette, and you recognized Jungkook’s profile.

Your legs brought you over to him before your mind could reconsider.

Rounding the corner, you asked, “should you be doing this?”

He flinched, not having expected you here, and it got you to smile. The two of you had a special way of sneaking up on each other today.

“Probably not,” he said, blowing smoke out. “Bad for my lungs, right?"

“So I hear.”

This was the first time the two of you were alone together, following the interrupted lunch earlier. Jungkook had wondered what it would be like now that he’d made his intentions clear—as clear as he could under the circumstances, at least. Now that he’d brought up the possibility of a friendship.

He had worried it would be weird or awkward. That he wouldn’t know how to prove himself to you, wouldn’t know what to say, or worse, that he would, but you would respond in the same cold, detached way as you had the first time in the restaurant.

But now that you were here, he didn’t feel different. He didn’t feel like he’d dropped a ground-breaking revelation—he knew he hadn’t, but your reaction begged otherwise—and he didn’t feel awkward.

He felt, he realised, like he’d been waiting for you to find him here. Like he knew you’d come, taking him off guard, appearing next to him from the shadows of the late night.

Taking another drag, he extended the cigarette towards you. Smoke passed his lips as he spoke, “want some?”

Hesitating for a moment, you gave your lollipop one last twirl against your tongue before you pulled it out of your mouth.

As you took the cigarette from him and placed it between your lips, you pointed the sucker at him and echoed, half-jokingly, “want some?”

He chuckled at this, but took the lollipop from you. Your question was a challenge—you asked because you didn’t think he’d agree—and he took you up on it immediately, putting the candy in his mouth.

You watched him toy with it, biting into the plastic stick lightly, and something seemed to short wire inside of you, shooting dangerous sparks in every which way. You wondered, for a passing moment, if your conversation at lunch could have triggered something long-forgotten inside of you, like the trip to Paris had.

When Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, the smoke you were supposed to exhale got caught in your throat.

Sighing deeply, he spoke, “haven’t done that in a while.”

Tilting your head to blow smoke out in a clumsy cough, you asked, “s-sucked on a lollipop? Or smoked?”

Twisting the sucker around his mouth for more flavour—aware, with every taste receptor on his tongue, that this was your taste—he replied, “shared a cigarette. Or candy.”

“Me neither.”

You took another drag and gave the cigarette back to him. He took it from you, his movements slow, and, in turn, he pulled out the lollipop, extending it back to you.

You were the one who snickered this time as you retrieved it, and, without any reluctance, put it back in your mouth. He forgot what breathing was and how it worked right after.

He wondered, his gaze frozen on your face, what the cigarettes and apple-flavoured lollipops tasted like on your lips. He wanted to find out, wanted to replace the candy in your mouth with his own tongue, wanted to—

He was forced to look away as the lit cigarette stung the tips of his fingers, ashes falling on his boots.

He shook it off and forced his eyes to stay on the ground beneath his feet.

“So,” you spoke, tapping the edge of the lollipop stick. “You ready to go back? The crew just finished up. If you hurry, you might still grab a few drinks backstage before it’s all gone.”

“I’d, uh…” his eyes were cast low. As soon as he put the cigarette back against his lips, he thought he’d begun to hallucinate—because, realistically, he shouldn’t have recognised the taste of your lip gloss, mixed with a faint taste of apples on the filter. Coughing, he stuttered, “I-I’d rather, um, stay here, actually.”

Suddenly awkward, you realised he may have been looking for a quiet minute by himself just as you had been, before you saw him. “Oh. I’m sorry I interrupted. I can—”

“No,” he stopped you. “I meant with you.”

You watched him exhale smoke and wondered, unexpectedly, what it meant for you if you craved a cigarette more than a lollipop. You never thought you had a nicotine addiction; really, you barely smoked.

Perhaps this was something different. A sort of latent chronic disease that you couldn’t shake no matter how much you tried—and you spent four years trying.

“Really?” you asked now, your chest light and your eyes glistening—in a dangerous, promising way. “Hiding behind a corner, sharing a cigarette like pre-teen delinquents?”

His eyes met yours as he took another drag. “Just the way I like it.”

“Alright,” you said, leaning your side against the wall next to him. You twirled the lollipop around in your mouth and he could almost feel the remaining ounces of restraint leave his body. “Let’s stay here, then.”

You were playing around, but there was a seriousness behind your words. You didn’t question him. You just stayed.

And he had to look away from you again.

He didn’t really understand why; this was so childish. He played along with your delinquent joke, but he wasn’t actually twelve—even if being with you did make him feel like a sixth-grader, discovering what having a crush was like for the first time.

“Tell you what,” he said, turning to his side to look at you. He lifted the cigarette; there was barely any of it left. “You can finish this off in exchange for the lollipop.”

You grinned. “Yeah? You liked the apple taste?”

You knew, he suspected. You had to know what you were doing to him; there was no way you wouldn’t notice how pathetically affected he was. All of Copenhagen could probably hear a faint thundering that came from inside of his chest.

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Something like that.”

“Okay.” You pulled the lollipop out of your mouth—and did it slowly, only strengthening his suspicion that you were doing this to him on purpose. Still, he felt his heart leap right to his throat and drop down to his feet when your lips pursed. “Although it’s hardly fair, since mine will last longer for you.”

You took his cigarette with your free hand and passed him the lollipop. The very tips of your fingers touched as you exchanged possessions, and, for a moment—which was so laced with electricity that the streetlamps around you seemed to flicker—Jungkook was worried that he wouldn’t manage to control himself, after all. That he would use this gentle, barely-there touch to hold you tighter. To throw the lollipop away, to kiss you, to never let go of you again.

Instead, he took half a step backwards—afraid of his impulses—and popped the candy into his mouth as quickly as he could. As if this way, he’d be less affected by your lingering taste on his tongue.

“Good,” he said. “It’s bad for your lungs, anyway.”

You snorted as you took one final drag before you reached dangerously close to the filter. Blowing smoke out, you leaned down to put the cigarette out against the pavement and walked away from him to throw the remains into the trashcan by the exit.

He opened his eyes to watch you return. You were smiling – not at him, but not away from him, either – and he wasn’t sure what he’d do next. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen—not tonight, not tomorrow, not in two weeks when the bet was supposed to end.

He had suggested a friendship today. He’d promised to himself to prove to you that he was worth it, that the two of you could be close again. That you could be friends.

But he had a pack full of cigarettes in the back pocket of his jeans; both of you could have had one of your own. Yet, he didn’t offer.

And you had two brand new lollipops from Seokjin in the pocket of your jacket. You could have given him one—but you didn’t offer, either.

Both of you chose not to mention this, aware—very vividly—that normal friends probably shouldn’t have enjoyed sharing candy and cigarettes so much.

So, Jungkook didn’t know anything at all. But with you here—as your gaze fell to his lips, he thought the flavour of the lollipop sharpened somehow, bringing shivers down his spine—he was thrilled to find out.

chapter title credits: bring me the horizon, “sleepwalking”

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#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #rockstar jungkook #rockstar bts #jungkook rockstar au #rockstar bts au

[alphabetboyluvr]

HUSH | MYG - SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

Welcome to Hush. We're the dating app that brings it all back; Y2K style. Forget catfishes, filters, and facetune - It's all about 'ASL?', character limits, and screaming into your pillow at 4am, after finaaaaally sending that goodnight text to your crush. Hush is the place to share your secrets. You're anonymous until you choose not to be - so what are you waiting for?! Go forth and multiply, Hush hottie! And by multiply, we mean your Hush crushes, of course! Hush users that match your preferences will automatically be added to your very own Secret Circle. We do the hard work for you (you're welcome), but it's up to you to turn your Hush crush into a secret worth keeping. Our lips are sealed, so yours don't have to be.

genre / tropes: okay, where to start with this one lmao, sexting! and i mean... a lot of sexting (so much sexting oc will probably get early-onset arthritis in her thumbs), yoongi is a dick, he also hates nepotism, and in turn, you. oh yeah, you're jin's sister, you work with the band on tour. jin, yoongi, tae, jk and joon are in The Scouts aka the hottest band since sliced bread. jimin is their tour manager, hobi works up in the head office (he's sleazy and i love him). slight love triangle, one-near-footjob (and counting!), eventual smut, a little angst, dating app that is exclusively for celebrities / people in the public eye, one incredibly inconvenient pairing, yoongi calls the oc clementine / clemmie and it's cuter than it sounds, idk how else to explain this, mistaken identity i guess? although not really? look, just read it lol. smut warnings will be on chapters individually!!

wordcount: x (will be somewhere between 80-120k)

soundtrack: x

start date: 2023.08.31 (originally posted early 2022)

minors dni // originally posted to wattpad

NOTE FROM HOLLY // hush is uploaded to wattpad in shorter chapters that i then combine for updates on tumblr (as are most of my fics!!)

CONTEXT // pls read these before the story

THE SCOUTS - meet the band HUSH - meet the app

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #rockstar!yoongi #yoongi fluff #bangtan ff #bts x reader #yoongi masterlist #yoongi x reader #yoongi ff #rockstar!bts #dappleddaisies #byholly #dating app au #rockstar au #myg x reader

[httpknjoon]

spotted | jjk

plot | This is how it started for the princess and the rockstar.

words | 3.8k

genres | fluff, modern royalty!au, celebrity!au

pairing | rockstar!jungkook x princess!reader

note | hi!! this is my first entry for this series and I'm so excited to write more about this pair in the future. let me know your thoughts! enjoy reading :)

main masterlist | drabble series

Royal Sisters, Princesses YN and Astrid Spotted Dancing at Sweet September’s Concert

On Friday night, the princesses were snapped watching the rock band at Crystalline Stadium.

Following the closing of the Royal Games earlier that day, Princesses YN, 25, and Astrid, 19, were spotted attending another big event in the country: Sweet September’s first Denim Jungle stop.

Fans of the rock band were stunned to see the two royalties in the said concert. Although the two sat in secluded seats in the stadium, they still attracted attention. Some concertgoers managed to capture pictures and short clips of the royalties enjoying the band’s performance– mostly Princess Astrid.

The usual contrast between the royal sisters is evident during their presence. Princess Astrid sported a rock-themed outfit with her oversized black leather jacket, red graphic tank top, flare jeans, and platform boots. On the other hand, Princess YN stayed true to her classy fashion style, wearing a black and white-collared Prada dress and knee-high boots. Both princesses wore black sunglasses during the whole event. The youngest sang and danced along to Sweet September’s tracks while the crown princess just nods her head to the beat. 

Worry not! Princess Astrid made Princess YN jump and dance along with her during the band’s performance of their hit song, My Fair Lady.

“You two will have your own entrance and exit spots. Ronnie and Ben would accompany you two to the entrance and would meet you at the same gate after the concert.”

Your father’s trusty courtier, Eddie, guided you and your sister with what you’re supposed to do. There were rules you have to remember. Especially since Astrid practically begged your parents to not have bodyguards with her in this event. Your father only agreed to let her come if you come too, knowing that you rarely go out outside of your royal duties. But since you love your sister, you agreed to go even though you don’t really listen to Astrid’s types of music.

After the closing of Zafiro’s Royal Games earlier this day, your parents left for a conference in Scotland. That reason made you in charge of your younger sister. But since you two don’t really live in a simple household, you are still looked after by your Royal Staff for your safety.

“Is that all, Uncle?”

Astrid already had her arms crossed as she asked that. It’s been fifteen minutes since your car arrived in front of this secret entrance to the concert. But because of the King’s instructions, you and your sister are now itching in your seats to go.

Eddie smiled, noticing your sister’s tone, “I know you are excited about this concert, Your Royal Highness. But His Majesty still has one last message… and this is a very important one so listen.”

Your sister is ready to let out an exaggerated sigh. You are ready to calm down her rising shoulders. But Eddie continued,

“Please remind my lovely girls to enjoy the night amidst my tiring instructions. Take pictures and sing along. I would love to hear stories from them about this very important concert– based on what my Astrid said– when I and my queen get back from our short trip to Scotland. Follow what your Uncle Eddie says.”

A small smile formed on your lips with that. Finally, Eddie lets you two go with your bodyguards until the gate. Then, Gerald, a nice concert staff, welcomed you into the venue and led you and your sister to your seats.

“Oh, my god. I cannot believe Papa let us come here alone.” your sister said as she slipped the Xyloband into her wrist.

“I know…” your voice trailed off when you heard the people singing along to the song playing not too far away. You turned to the staff, “Excuse me, is the concert starting already?”

“No, Ma’am. We’re just playing the band’s music videos before they perform on stage. But they will be performing in a few minutes.”

You nodded with that. You went to concerts before, but not like this one. You liked jazz and classical music and would always try to go to concerts whenever you can. Those concerts are very much different than this band’s.

“These are your seats, Your Royal Highnesses,” Gerald spoke.

“Thank you so much.” you and Astrid said as you walked to the two empty seats.

With that, the staff left you. The seats are not that close or far from the main stage and it’s in the center. For safety purposes, your father and the security team agreed to not put you two in the floor spots where you can see the band better. Still, Astrid finds these spots great.

You assumed your father pulled some strings to make this possible since you heard from Astrid that the tickets were sold out as soon as it’s started selling. It made you wonder what’s good in Sweet September. You probably heard about them before, mainly because Astrid’s a rock-music enthusiast, but you don’t really know anything about them. Except that they recently worked with UNICEF for a campaign focused on cyberbullying. But you know nothing about their music.

“Oh, look at that! Look at those signs!”

Your sister was laughing while she points her finger somewhere. Your eyes followed where she was pointing.

DEAR CARTER, I’M A DRUMMER TOO. LET ME ROCK YOU! ;)

I SOLD MY CAR FOR THIS

MARRY ME MINGYU

HAIL KING WOOSUNG

CAN Y’ALL BE MY VALENTINE <3

Among those aggressive signs, there is one that made your eyes stretch wide and look away.

JUNGKOOK LET ME PUT OIL ON YOUR ABS

What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask Astrid but she was already talking to another fan who’s seating beside her. The said fan seemed surprised and delighted at the same time when she locked eyes with you for a second. You just smiled. As a highly-regarded crown princess, you know that they least expect you to show up in a rock concert next to them.

You then turned to your other side, where you immediately locked eyes with a lady who seemed a bit older than you. She instantly looked away and slowly looked back after a few seconds. She probably thought you were not looking at her anymore. But you are. And you can tell who she is by her awkward aura and stiff movements.

Part of showing respect to royalties, the public cannot talk to you until you speak with them first. So you decided to say something directly.

“Did the King hire you?” you asked her in a small whisper.

You don’t Astrid to hear it. You want her to focus on the fact that she is free from your parents’ overprotectiveness tonight. You can see the hesitation on her face but you can already tell that she is a secret security Eddie hired.

“It’s fine. I understand.” you gave her a reassuring smile. “Please, enjoy the concert too.”

The woman nods and bows subtly. You turned away. Astrid already has new friends. Between you two, she definitely is the friendlier one. It’s not like you are hostile. But she is just more carefree than you. Ever since you were a kid, you already followed the rules by the book. You know that you are in line for the throne and you need to be rightful for it. So you always try to be professional in your duties. You studied and work for your country.

“It’s a surprise to see you in here, Your Royal Highness.” one of Astrid’s new friends said.

“Please, just call me Astrid or you can add that princess title if you’re uncomfortable with calling me by name.” she quipped and they laughed. “Actually, the King only let me come here when Princess YN agreed to accompany me.”

Her friends’ mouths all formed into a small o. You waved at them, and they bow their heads. Suddenly, the lights slowly dimmed down and everyone began screaming– including Astrid. To say that your sister is excited was an understatement. It’s like she slept with a hanger in her mouth with how wide she’s smiling. Your cheeks hurt for her. But you’re happy to see her happy.

Taps on the microphone can be heard before someone cleared their throat, building up everyone’s excitement. You stood there, just listening to them and observing.

“Everyone, welcome to the denim jungle!”

Someone began playing a good riff on a bass guitar. The band’s silhouette is recognizable on stage. In the first beat of the drum, the lights snapped open. There, your eyes directly spotted the lead vocalist.

Droplets of sweat made his skin feel gluey as he ran his hand through his damp dark hair. His plain form-fitting white top is almost useless with how it almost got transparent with his body. His chest heaves as he removes his earpiece.

“Great show tonight, boys!”

A staff greeted them on their way down from the stage. After almost three hours of singing, playing with instruments, and interacting with the audience, Jungkook can finally feel relief in his body. With his throat feeling a little sore earlier, he was careful with it throughout the whole concert.

“Okay, let’s take a picture first!” a staff declared.

Jungkook, Carter, Mingyu, and Woosung lined up and posed for a couple of pictures that their staff would post later. After that, the four talked about their performance as they cool off.

“My earpiece is a mess.” Woosung shared. “I cannot hear the drums well. I think it stopped working for a few seconds during Blue Skies.”

“Okay, we have extra of those. You can test your new one in your next rehearsals.” Tara, their manager, responded.

The others shared their thoughts for tonight. Jungkook just listened for the sake of his throat. When he felt it getting strained, he cleared his throat and reached for a bottle of water.

“How are you feeling now?” Mingyu tapped his shoulder.

“The same,” he answered shortly. “It didn’t feel better or worse than earlier.”

“Well, let’s go back to the hotel to let our Jungkook rest,” Carter replied.

The others agreed before standing up from the soft couch. Jungkook is already heading straight to their dressing room when Tara spoke.

“By the way, you had very special guests tonight. It made tonight’s tag trend worldwide on Twitter.”

Being trending is not new with the group. Ever since they started the tour a month ago, they have been on various social media trend lists every other day. They also had bid celebrities and personalities as part of the audience before.

“Who? The king?” Mingyu joked, making the others chuckle.

Tara clicked her tongue, “Eh, close. It’s his daughters, the royal princesses.”

The boys stopped in their tracks. Even Jungkook froze. He did not even notice his members simultaneously turning their heads in his direction. As if they were waiting for him to say something. Instead, it was Tara who spoke again.

“Maybe we can meet them.”

All while the concert was happening, a fan who was also present in the event posted a stolen picture of you and Astrid. It led to your name and Astrid’s trending. Fans were excited to see royalties in such an event.

@/rockjeykey: no one told me princess astrid is a fan

@/denimparty: SOMEONE TELL JUNGKOOK ABOUT THIS

@/CRAYONNO7: YOOOOO i was just a few seats next to them! THEY ARE SO NICE AND FUN I HAD SMALL TALKS WITH THEM PRINCESS YN SAID SHE LIKES MY BAND SHIRT

Replying to @/CRAYONNO7

- @/eunwoobass: ur so lucky!!!

@/ASTRIDLOML: i’d like to think yn is astrid’s forever chaperone in events 🤣

Replying to @/ASTRIDLOML

- @/crownprincessyn: haha going to a rock concert is not so yn 😆😆

@/multifandommyg: imagine having zafiro’s princesses as your fans

@/sweetmonthof9th: i want to see the boys' reactions 💀

@/cartermatters: lolololol mingyu would be teasing the hell out of jk 

@/ZafiroRoyaltyNews: Princesses YN and Astrid attended Sweet September’s concert after today’s royal events! 💜✨ #DenimJungleInZF [insert photos]

@/SweetSeptember_twt: Hey! Hey! Hey! Rubies are red. Sapphires are blue. You guys are a gem that is hard to find! A big 💜 to Zafiro. Thank you all for coming tonight! #DenimJungleInZF

“Thank you so much!”

Your mouth felt dry. You lost track of how many times you gulped throughout the whole performance as your eyes focused on someone. You felt like in a haze– a very hot one. 

Jungkook.

That’s his name, right? Whoever he is, he has the prettiest voice. You rarely listen to their genre of music but you managed to be entertained the whole time. But you don’t know why. When you saw him in that white shirt after he removed his leather jacket on stage, your brain stopped working for seconds. It’s probably because you didn’t expect him to have that arm sleeve tattoo. 

It’s so pretty.

He’s so pretty.

“Oh! That was so much fun! Thank you so much for going here with me.” Astrid cut off your thoughts. “I know this isn’t your type of music. So, I really appreciate you here with me.”

She jumped to hug you and you hugged her back, trying to cleanse off the thoughts in your mind. You just excuse your reaction now as a shock since this is your first rock concert. After saying goodbye to her friends, Astrid pulled you with her out of your seats. She continued talking to you about her excitement. You tried to listen but failed. You just remembered that lead singer playing with that guitar like his life depended on it. His fingers were smooth on playing that thing like he’s used to–

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Princess YN! Princess Astrid!”

Again, you snapped out of your thoughts. Both you and Astrid turned your head back when you heard your names. The lady who was next to you during the concert is now wearing her security earpiece. She was probably following you two since you walked out but you didn’t notice for obvious reason. She also looked at that someone who called for you.

That someone was also a concert staff. You read that card that she wears in her lanyard that says, MANAGER. She was almost out of breath when you stopped.

“Oh, I apologize for the informalities, Your Royal Highnesses.” she tried to speak with her hands on her knees, to catch her breath. After some seconds, she continued, “I am Tara Montez, Sweet September’s manager.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Montez.” you smiled, offering your hand for a shake, which she accepted. Astrid also did the same thing.

“Nice to meet you too, Princess YN and Princess Astrid. Thank you so much for being here!”  You see Tara paused. “It was totally unexpected and rare to see princesses at the band’s concerts. Uhm… We were hoping the band could meet you. They are big fans of your country. It would be an honor for them to meet you two even just for a short time.”

Astrid audibly gasped. You looked at her and her eyes say it all. You can even see the sparkles in her eyes. You can also hear your bodyguard communicating through her wireless device. You’re sure Eddie would definitely want you to walk out of the venue now but you know your sister would love the offer. It’s a one-time thing.

So before your bodyguard can interfere, you answered.

“Of course.”

Back in the green room, Jungkook and the other members now showered and changed into their casual clothes. Carter and Woosung munched on the chips they saw on the table. Mingyu was giggling as he secretly takes a clip of Jungkook walking back and forth.

“What should we do?” he asked them, trying to keep his cool. But everyone can tell, he’s failing. He just never thought he would meet any royalty– you.

Out of distraction from the chips, Carter replied, “Curtsy?”

Before the others can laugh with that, the door opened and they immediately stood up straight. Carter and Woosung wiped their hands and even sanitized them. Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows at Jungkook. The latter gave him an annoyed look.

“And this is Sweet September.” Tara, who got in first, introduced them.

Jungkook’s heart almost stopped when he sees you entering with your small smile. Every photograph posted in the news and articles didn’t give your beauty any justice as he found you more attractive now you’re in the same room as him. When you locked eyes with him, he swore his heart fluttered.

Following what Carter said, Jungkook was ready to curtsy when you spoke.

“Oh… Uhm, we don’t really do that here, Mister. That’s more of like the UK’s thing. A bow would be fine.”

Everyone in the room laughed except you, who tried to be professional. But you found it cute. Especially when you saw that tint of red forming across his cheeks.

“Oh— uhm— My apologies, my quee– princess.”

“It’s your royal highness, dumbass.” his bandmate whisper-shouted at the back.

Your sister scoffed, finding the lead vocalist’s mistake as funny. You looked at her sternly. She acted appropriately again. You looked back at the boys again, trying to break your sight away from Jungkook.

“Thank you so much for coming to our country. I’ve never seen a crowd as energetic as that.” you began the conversation to break the ice. “It’s a surprise for me to hear our people here singing almost every song in your set. I just learned they are a big fan of your group.”

“How about you, Your Royal Highness,” Jungkook asked. He doesn’t know where he’s getting all this strength to talk to you. But he just knows that this might be his first and last.

You replied with the truth, “Oh– I– this is actually my first time listening to your music. Princess Astrid right here just invited me to go here with her.”

“She’s more of a jazz fan.” Astrid shared and they nodded.

Before the conversation continues, your bodyguard spoke, “Excuse me. Madams. The Royal Staff is asking us to go out now.“

Woosung was quick to request when they heard that, “Can we take a picture with you, Royal Highnesses?”

“Of course!”

This time, Astrid replied with uncontained excitement. You stood in between the four members. Mingyu was supposed to be next to you but he pulled Jungkook to exchange places with him. Jungkook instantly smelled the sweet and flowery scent just by being next to you while you ignored that strange feeling in your stomach when you felt your arms touched.

“Okay, one… two… three!”

The band stood in line once again after that. You and Astrid shook hands with them in turns. You introduced yourselves and so they did too. Ever since you were a kid, when you began attending public royal events, you always followed the royal protocol. In every person you met, you would shake their hand while having good eye contact. Another part of the protocol is the public cannot physically touch you unless you initiated it first. So, you did.  

The boys seemed surprised but showed their respect by bowing their heads while you shook hands with each of them. You just hoped your hand was not stone cold since you felt like it was since you stood in front of their lead vocalist. But when it comes to the last person in the line, Jungkook smoothly managed to kiss the back of your hand when you offer it for a handshake.

You were taken aback by the action. Not because he did it. But because it felt something else. The kiss was feather-like. It was light and brief. But you felt something electric run through your veins the moment his lips touched your skin. Your heart shivered. Then, it suddenly beat fast and you’re scared that everyone around you can hear it. You gulped as you made eye contact with him again.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness,” his deep and slightly hoarse voice said. It made you feel things you don’t know and you hate and like it at the same time. “I’ve read a lot about you.”

You pursed your lips, “You did?”

“Yeah.”

You wanted to ask and know more about what he reads about you. But before you can say anything again, 

“The Royal Courtier is waiting, ma’am.” the guard interrupted.

You tried not to show annoyance. But sighed.

“Well, we shall go. Our staff is waiting outside.” you smiled. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here in our country. Congratulations on your concert.”

They bowed and you turned around with Astrid, ready to leave the room.

“Wait!” Mingyu stopped you one more time. “Is there any way we can reach out to you and invite you girls again to our future events? E-mail? Phone number? Telephone number?”

Your sister was over the moon hearing that while you tried to hide the smirk forming on your lips. Jungkook knows what his friend is doing and he is somewhat thankful for Mingyu.

“The only way to contact us is through Zafiro’s Royal Communication Office. I believe their e-mail and telephone numbers are on their websites.” you sounded like you were teasing. But you just honestly found their attempt funny. “Other than that, feel free to send us a letter through the mail.”

Of course, you would not give your personal number. Jungkook thought. Do you even have that? You probably have your own assistant who answered calls for you. It is known to almost everyone that even though every royalty in Zafiro has their own social media accounts, you just use them to share your duties and advocacies.

“Again, it was nice meeting your band. We hope you come back to our country soon.”

You left the room, sharing knowing glances with your sister.

While on their way back to their hotel, Jungkook scrolls on his Instagram account. His notifications were on blast as usual. But something caught his attention when he almost exit the app.

97.sapphire is now following you!

His eyes squinted. He clicked on the account. It only has twelve followers and two posts. It follows nothing. The account’s two posts are photos of artworks. One is a watercolor painting of a flower field during sunset. While the other is a detailed pencil drawing of what seemed like a coffee shop. Then, another notification popped out.

97.sapphire sent you a message.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow before he clicked on it. Without really expecting anything, he reads the message. As he go through the words, his eyebrow lowered while his lips formed into a smile.

let me know what do u want to read more about this pair! :) thank you so much for reading.

taglist rules

THE PRINCESS AND THE ROCKSTAR TAGLIST

@heartjiminie @rbrm094 @rjsmochii @jjkreblog @sugaslittlekookies @saintsugar @thvlover7 @alpha-mommy69 @natalia-rmnva @coralmusicblaze @stupendouscookiehumanmug @namgoogieee @yoonjinhusbands @borahaeb1ch @lilliankoo @0rubyrose0

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd​ @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @miyukihoshi @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1

#bts humor #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts series #bts established relationship au #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook series #rockstar jungkook #the princess and the rockstar jjk #bts meet cute au

[venusjeon]

faith

a rock god drabble

jungkook drags you back to the convent after having some drinks.

♔ PAIRING: rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader

♔ GENRE: 80s au, angst, fluff, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 1k

♔ WARNINGS: religious themes, drinking, swearing, referenced non-consensual sex

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: 16.3k wasn't enough for these two so they're back! i actually planned this for the main fic but bc i felt it was getting too long i discarded it. here it is though<3 it takes place sometime before that fateful mass...

1986

The cloister looked so beautiful at night with the moonlight raining down on the grass, the crickets singing, the columns’ shadows dancing on the floor… Wait, how were they dancing if they were the columns’? Oh! That shadow was yours, and that one Jungkook’s.

You pointed at them, slurred, “They’re ours!”

Jungkook chuckled, “Nothing gets past you, Sherlock. But keep your voice down and let’s go.”

He was dragging you by the hand through the convent, having previously dragged you from the car and before that from the venue where he performed hours ago. Jungkook had insisted you snuck out to see him again, and you had to say, this time the show had been nothing short of stellar.

“I think I tolerate your music better like this.”

“What, wasted?”

“Let’s go with merry.”

It was your first time getting drunk. The venue had stayed open after the concert—drinks on the house for Bangtan since they’d lured in so much clientele—and when your face expressed hesitance Jungkook promised fun, that he wouldn’t take a single sip to drunksit you and later drive you to the convent. Accepting had proved to be a good decision, even if right now you couldn’t remember half of the night. The one clear thing in the mist of your mind was the seductive way that guitar player had eyed you through Rock God.

“Y/N? Jungkook?” A voice made him halt and curse under his breath.

“Is it Father Jimin?�� you asked in what you’d intended as a whisper. Jungkook shook his head, so you turned around to be met with Sister Daeun walking over, and started giggling at the fact that you’d confused her voice with the abbot’s. Obvious you were drunk, the shock on her face at the two of you being out of bed at such hour turned into outrage.

“What in God’s name is going on?!”

You gasped. “Oh my god, I’ve never thought about that... What is God’s name?”

Jungkook would’ve normally laughed, but this time led you to the stone base between the columns some footsteps away and had you sit, lean on one. “Stay here,” he ordered calmly and you nodded, then watched him return to Sister Daeun. “I can explain, aunty.”

“How can you possibly? You took her out and got her drunk!”

“She’s fine, she just had a few drinks. I monitored.”

“Have you forgotten she’s a novice? And what if it had been Father Jimin that woke up for a glass of milk and not me?”

“Father Jimin is not a glass of milk man.” Jungkook assured her, and you burst into giggles again.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook.” Sister Daeun hugged herself. “Where were you taking her?”

“Well, to her cell. Where else would I–” He saw in her eyes a glimpse of the apprehension she was trying to suppress, and it took him aback. “Nice to know you think me capable of that. What, is it because I have tattoos? Because I’m in a rock band? I guess I was fucking stupid to believe you’re any different to mum and dad.”

Half of Sister Daeun felt ashamed, but the other half jumped to argue, “I see you dragging a drunk girl in the dead of the night, what do you want me to think?”

“That I’m looking out for her!” Jungkook shouted without thinking, his voice echoing across the cloister. Sister Daeun closed her eyes and prayed he hadn’t been as loud as to wake anyone up, but he didn’t care, scoffed at the lack of a response. “If you don’t trust me, take her to her cell yourself, then.”

He turned to leave and with a sigh, his aunt held out a hand to you. “Come with me.”

“No, I want Jungkook…” you whined like a kid, rushing to his side to curl your arms around his left one. Despite how mad he was, he didn’t shake you off or snap at you, instead stopped walking not to pull you into tripping.

“Y/N…” It didn’t take her long to realise separating you from Jungkook would take at least three nuns. “Fine. But we’ll have a word tomorrow.”

She left and Jungkook led you away, hands held softly but a tension lingering in the air—and not the fun one he so liked to summon. You wanted to make him feel better, but it was hard to think straight, and before you knew it you were entering your cell in pitch-black darkness.

“Goodnight,” he whispered once he’d found the bed by touch and helped you lie on it. You reached for his hand in time and pulled, forcing him to sit down.

“Don’t go yet…”

He chuckled lowly, “Scared of the dark?” and you giggled again. Gosh, why was everything so funny when drunk? Well, if you thought about it, you always found Jungkook funny. Sometimes it seemed he went out of his way to make you laugh. He was so nice to you… “Hey, YN…”

“Huh?”

It was dark, but you didn’t need light to see he was nervous. “Listen, I’m sorry about before. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you to drink. I’m not the best influence…”

You started playing with his hand. “You didn’t push me. I had lots of fun with you and Bangtan.” Especially when Hoseok and Taehyung kept insisting you sainted them, and you kept explaining that it was sadly not in your power to do so. “I’m glad you were watching over me, because I trust you.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything else, just caressed your hands back. Only once you’d fallen asleep did he leave, the pain in his heart from earlier somewhat lessened.

Hopping into his bed, he thought it was crazy that you had that effect on him. Well… not so crazy. He’d allowed you to have it, given it to you, the one person who seemed to have faith in him. It made him scoff, how ridiculously head over heels he was, and as he thought of that he finally drifted into sleep, a comfortable smile settled on his lips.

#bts au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bangtan imagine #bts fic #jeon jungkook scenarios #bangtan #bts x you #jeongguk #rockstar jungkook

[irrusthetic]

me core

#kafka #franz kafka #jungkook #mingyu #bts #seventeen #sylvia plath #metamorphosis #fallen angels #wong kar wai #in the mood for love #biryani #cinema #cinephile #imtiaz ali #rockstar au #timothée chalamet #it’s okay to not be okay #romcom #romantic comedy #yuzuru hanyu #enemies to lovers #iced coffee #lana del rey #golden #it girl #hozier #virginia woolf #kdrama #letters to milena

[69dias]

rockstar!jk mini series: teaser

a/n: hi guys !!!! sorry for being so so IA and never uploading . college is a major bitch but . here is a badly written teaser to a new miniseries hehe. pls lmk ur thoughts

warnings: nth major, mentions of sex and alcohol... also, paris. 

the first time you meet jungkook is in paris.

it happens after the show, one that you’re sure you won’t ever have the capacity to forget, one that affirms every piece of media ever romanticizing this city because fuck, do amazing things happen here.

you don’t get to think about the performance too much, just barely processing the way the lead singer had stared you down during the set, the glide of his fingers over the strings of his guitar, the sweat on his arms and the way the stage lights beat down on the ink covering his skin; just barely processing how stunning he looked, and how you’re barely even drunk but would still do anything to get him to look at you like that again.

when you make your way to the bar, comically slow and still a bit dazed from all the eye-fucking and the performance that was practically sex personified, there’s a security guard right there who almost seems to be judging your every move, eyes flitting down the expanse of your body as though he’s inspecting you for something. there’s a leather jacket draped over his uniform-clad arm, complete with patches similar to something an 80s actor would wear, complete with a cigarette hanging from their lips. it sure as hell doesn’t belong to you, and you open your mouth to tell him that, but he beats you to it.

“ma’am, this is for you.”

you don’t hear him clearly at first, and when you do, it’s hard to make the conclusion that he is indeed speaking to you. you whip your head around to see who else this man could possibly be asking to take this jacket, but he doesn’t let you dwell on it for too long —

“no, ma’am, you.” when you point to yourself, his sigh of agitation makes your eyes narrow at the sheer audacity he has to get irritated with you when he’s the one asking someone random out of the hundreds of people in the room to accept this obscure leather jacket. “yes, you. jeon jungkook would like to give you this. he tells you to check the pocket.”

the slight accent he has makes it hard for you to decipher the name, but when you do, it isn’t as hard for you to connect the dots.

jeon jungkook. the lead singer, who’d introduced himself as JK just a mere five minutes before he’d sluttily bitten his lips and done a once-over of your entire form like he was willing to devour you whole just like that.

jeon jungkook wanted to give you his jacket. there’s something in his pocket for you. this reminds you awfully of a wattpad story you’d written about harry styles back when you were a fledgling, and you figure it’s god’s way of repaying you for all the flack you’ve gotten for it over the years.

“are you sure he said it was for me?”

“yes, ma’am.”

it’s the last thing he says before extending his arm towards you, tilting his head expectantly. your fingers shake, still not fully able to process this when you pluck the jacket out of his hold. the man doesn’t stay for longer, and you think he clearly does not get paid enough for this, but whatever pitiful feelings you have towards this security guard dissipate as you reach into the pocket of the jacket.

it’s a piece of paper, perfectly out of the cliches you’d curate for yourself back in 2010. the dim lights of the bar make it hard for you to decipher the words, having to dart your eyes over the hastily scribbled ink multiple times before the message registers

the peninsula. meet me at 00:30 in the lobby. -JK.

#jungkook #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook/reader #jungkook blurbs #jungkook angst #jungkook miniseries #jungkook fics #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #rockstar jungkook

[hjh-ceilo-monster]

Double Trouble : MYG x JJK

Summary : Being with one hot and popular singer was difficult. Then, how about two?

Inspo. : D-Day Concert the final | Bts 10th anniversary firework show [ Yoongi alone in his concert was lethal enough. Adding Jungkook on the stage...oh, god...they literally burned the stage.] Photos & Gifs : reserved for rightful owners 

Author POV.

"Shiiiibaaaaallllll"

The crowd screamed as the lead singer growled.

The light threw different shades here and there, from red to purple to blue and orange.

"Party party yah!"

Another deep growling joined. The chorus excitedly popped up from the hydrolic lift floor.

Now both of them held the arena's attention completely. Looking into one's eyes, they started battling their voice.

To level up the fight of dominance, the bass and drum went wild, matching their singers' energy. While the keyboard, as a backbone of this song, calmly matched the beat.

"I swear they were too much sometimes. How are they going to do the interview after this?"

The manager looked at the monitor and sighed. Despite complaining, he knew he could do nothing.

"They were always like this...always."

Y/n spoke. Watching them proudly, the old memory flashed in front of their eyes. The image of them in their school uniform collided with the now version of them. The sight made them chuckled.

Well, that really was how Yoongi and Jungkook are.

10 years ago

"Why are you here?"

The both of them pointed at each other. Their expression showed nothing but irritation.

"Brief intro for you guys. This is Jungkook, our new member. JK, this is Yoongi, our lead singer."

Y/n introduced the two to each other, even though, it looked like they had already known each other.

"So this is our new chorus? Can he?" Yoongi smirked while provoking the newcomer.

"Can't I be the lead singer. I bet I'm better than this old man." Jungkook, who cared nothing about seniority, challenged Yoongi for the position.

And that was how everything started between the two. Their journey of chaotic friendnemy.

"I still remember how they fought no end. They even broke into fist fight."

Y/n smiled at the old memory. They could feel the nostalgic shock yet delight as if it happened yesterday.

That was understandable though.

Because....they were the cause of the fight.

"Dipshit, you can compete with me on anything, but not Y/n."

The side of Yoongi's lip had some blood seeping. His hand painted red so did his face.

"Why? If you like them, say it! I'm not like you, Agust. I like Y/n and I have guts to say what I feel."

Jungkook shout out his confession, even though, the left side of his cheek got a bruise. His blood was boiling as the older stopped him from his plan.

Y/n stood in front of the door, frozen. They didn't want to believe what they had just witnessed.

"It shouldn't be like this." Y/n mumbled to themselves.

For months, Y/n distanced themselves from the band. The rest of the members couldn't hide it and told their singers why Y/n didn't show up at their studio. The two of them kept apologizing to Y/n afterward.

Well, that was in the past. Now everything between them was good. Their feelings, their problems, everything fell into their places perfectly.

"Y/nie how was it?" Jungkook was about to throw his sweating body toward them, however, Yoongi was quicker.

"Not so fast, kid. We gotta get change first."

A giant bunny pouted before following Yoongi to the changing room. Y/n giggled at the two of them.

From enemy to brother, their relationship was like a roller coaster.

*In the changing room*

"Everything's ready." The staff adjusted suit one last time before let Yoongi and Jungkook go.

"Hyung...this is it. Will they say yes?" Jungkook asked his older friend. His hands were shaking.

Yoongi didn't answer anything. The older one seemed to be well-prepared, yet his eyes couldn't hide his worry.

As much as they wanted to hear a yes and quite confident about it, deep down they were a tiny part that prepared for the rejection.

No matter what they wanted, in the end, it wasn't something they could control.

"Let's go." Yoongi spoke and lead the way.

"They are late. Is everything alright? Aren't you guys have a special ending before the concert end?"

Y/n asked the rest of the band.

"We know nothing...really. The staff only told us that those two would like to perform something special for the ending of this tour."

The bass player replied and glanced at other members, having the same expression as Y/n.

They all were confused.

Phew.....Phew....

The string of lights started shooting up into the sky. And the next moment, the firework bloomed, lighting up in the middle of darkness.

"It has been 10 years we were together. Spending year and year after you, in every difficulty we always find hope..."

Jungkook's voice suddenly came through the speakers. The firework still went on, blooming in various patterns.

"As a special day, at the end of this successful tour, we wanted to express our love and gratitude to our first fan..."

Yoongi then continued the script.

"Every practice session, every lyric, every beat, they won't exist if it wasn't you who kept encouraging us...."

"We fought a lot. We cried a lot. We acted like kids around you, yet you were never tired of us two..."

Jungkook chuckled as he ended the sentences.

"Thank you for being here. Thank you for not giving up on us. Thank you. We hope this letter touch your heart. How we wish there is a word that has a greater meaning than the word love to say to you..."

The two of them said in unison.

"Y/n-ah, let's be together always...and for the rest of our lives, shall we?"

One final blow of the firework lit the sky.

'Will you marry us?'

A/n note : That's it. I hope you enjoy the os. Seeing them together on the stage and other performance from Jimin and Namjoon with Yoongi make me want to fastfoward to 2025 so bad. Well, I chose this pair because of the chemistry when I saw the fancam. I thought it would be nice to put them into frienemy mode with and oc who bond them within the relationship (+ a litle romance)

Thanks for reading. See you next session

#kpop bts #kpop fanfiction #bts fic #min yoongi #bts min yoongi #bts one shot #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts yoonkook #bts yoongi ff #bts jungkook fanfic #gender neutral y/n #bts x gender neutral reader #bts non idol au #bts rockstar au #bts fanfiction #bts ff #bts ff recs #bts aesthetic #bts moodboard #one shot ff #kpop fanfic rec #kpop fanfic #fanfiction #bts imagines #bts yoongi x reader #bts jungkook x reader

[singguks]

friday love & the shadow puppets  →  vinyl, puppets #1.

[ june 13th, 1987 ] the shadow puppets release their first vinyl. 

Safety Pin was the debut vinyl record released by the label Pacific Record’s newest band at the time, the Shadow Puppets. It arrived in record stores on June 13th, 1987, with a total of ten songs, Seven Nation Army serving as its lead single and the only song getting a free pass to an official video on MTV.

🧷 background & production.

The band had just signed a contract with the label when the productions for the album started. It's said to be one of the fastest records to reach its final result. Turns out the band already had all of the lyrics written, when the famous producer, Min Yoongi, started working on it. With minor lyrics changes made by the producer himself, paired with his knowledge of everything instrumental, the album got to see the spotlight only a month after the Puppets' arrival at the label.

Safety Pin was not only a go-getter, filled with the band's wanting of turning themselves into propper rockstars, but also contained the moody struggles of the young artists. Needless to say, the concept was everything stage, lights, and a lot of rock and roll!

🧷 setlist.

✘ Thunderstruck ⏤ inspired by ac/dc.

✘ Brianstorm ⏤ inspired by arctic monkeys.

✘ No Surprises ⏤ inspired by radiohead.

✘ In a Broken Dream ⏤ inspired by rod stewart.

✘ Lonely Boy ⏤ inspired by the black keys.

✘ Some Might Say ⏤ inspired by oasis.

✘ Seven Nation Army ⏤ inspired by the white stripes.

✘ Rockstar ⏤ inspired by nickelback.

✘ Come Together ⏤ inspired by the beatles.

✘ Wake Me up When September Ends ⏤ inspired by green day.

🧷 the lyrics & behind stories.

Thunderstruck,

is marked by the first guitar riff of the exceptional Jung Hoseok, and the whole band shouting 'Thunder' every time the powerful and eclectic vocalist Jeon Jungkook finishes his sentences. In a quick interview with the press, JK clarified he co-wrote the song with the band's rhythmic guitarist when they were all having a good time in Texas. "It was the beginning of everything for us," the vocalist shared, "Although we had been playing together ever since school, it was the first time we had quit our jobs and started taking the band seriously. That's why we celebrated so much!" JK concluded making everyone laugh.

Brianstorm,

was one of those songs that took everyone by surprise much like its lyrics and from who it was inspired. The song that made multiple appearances on the most famous radio station due to fans' requests, was inspired by a real person. That's right! "There was this guy... Brian," Taehyung, the band's bassist, shared, "He came to us after a small gig. The guy was a real character!" he laughed. JK also added the motive behind the lyrics he composed, "He came to us trying to offer to be our manager at the time, and he had this weird necktie and even gave us a business card. Brian left us such a lasting impression that after he was gone we brainstormed about him... Hence the whole 'Brianstorm' title pun".

No Surprises,

there are few songs quite as desolate and quite as beautiful as this. Compared to the other tracks on their vinyl, this one is as lush and melodic as it is filled with dread and despair. Although many of the fans got worried for the artists, as rumors of it being about suicid* were raised, JK clarified, later on, that he had written the piece in difficult times for him but it had nothing to do with the topic. "At the time I felt very much lost... The way I was living my life, the job I had... Like I was shaking the hand of the things that slowly kill us in the end. You may get a pretty house or a pretty garden but you're not really satisfied or happy on the inside, you know? It was that kind of feeling I had in mind when writing this." the singer explained.

In a Broken Dream,

is yet another moody and charming composition of the album. It's marked by another of Hoseok's brilliant riffs, as well as an emotional performance throughout the entirety of this title. JK's voice will for sure leave you speechless and the lyricism of it will hit you straight to the heart. "I wrote this one the same day I did 'No Surprises'... Yeah, I was down that day," JK laughs it out, charismatic as ever, "It's about spending your life dreaming about opportunities as opposed to actually going out and living them... Like never actually living in reality but in a broken dream." he further explained. The rockstar is said to have worked a couple of different jobs before taking action to pursue what he truly wanted: music.

Lonely Boy,

shows that when it comes to matters of the heart, the Shadow Puppets aren't always the nice guys. It comes across as a vulnerable anthem but also contains bits of bitter shots and blatant arrogance. Still, the song has a groovy beat that made many bang their heads along! "I don't know if I'm supposed to say but yeah, it's totally about his first girlfriend," the drummer, Jimin, exposed the composition of this upbeat, organ-tinged, song made by his bandmate JK.

Some Might Say,

is where Kim Taehyung shines with a brilliant bass line. And although JK had made another melancholic lyric, the sound of this one is nothing but euphoric. "The melody was meant to say that everything's gonna be alright" the heartthrob confessed. Apart from that, there isn't much regarding the lyrics, just what we can conclude: it's a series of thoughts and opinions that someday crowded our dear vocalist's head.

Seven Nation Army,

"Tells the tale of a person that goes out of town and then comes back, and is engulfed in a sea of lies and gossip," JK recalls, "I remember the first time I got back to my hometown after having some small gigs with the boys outta town... All I heard was 'But is it true' or 'Did you really do this or that'. I got frustrated. I got to understand that every situation has a bad and a good side to it, with fame it's just the same... As for the melody of it, I stumbled upon the riff while warming up my guitar. Pure luck, I guess!" He laughs. Frustrations set aside, we can all agree that from Queen of England to the hounds of hell, just about anyone can sing Seven Nation Army's hypnotic riff!

Rockstar,

it’s a clever piece of subversion, detailing the "benefits" of rock'n'roll stardom although it also takes jabs at fame's corrosive side. "None of it is autobiographical," says JK. "It's all supposed to be silly things, kinda like what we used to think about the industry but amplified exponentially. That sort of silliness is sort of what we wanted to do when we sat together and started throwing ideas." Jimin adds as the rest of the Puppets agree and laugh, probably remembering the moment.

Come Together,

is one of the tracks that there isn't much information about besides the fact that it was co-written by the best friends of the band: JK and Taehyung. It had been said previously they had it written early on in life when they were still in school and being a tad rebellious. Apart from that, there's only a comment from Taehyung about it, "It's a funky track, might be one of my favorites... It's funky, it's bluesy, and we both sing it together pretty well. I like the sound of it... You can dance to it. I'd buy it!", well, Tae, so will we!

Wake Me up When September Ends,

it's one we can get emotional with, even though we don't know the real reason behind its lyricism. We can only assume since the Shadow Puppets vocalist and the frontman refuses to explain it. The same occurs with the bandmates. Even so, the introductory drums are the cherry on top, and Jungkook's voice pierces our souls just like we like it. More so, it's the perfect song to end the album, as the feeling we are left with is of 'just please wake me up only and if the Shadow Puppets have released their second album'!

♪ ♫ ♩· [ masterlist ෴ next part ]

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