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precious boy <3
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jeon jungkook - boyfriend material (he's all in one)
# i wish him a happiest birthday !
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little princess (m) | m.yg. | drabble
pairing: yoongi x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: smut | humor | angst | fwb minus the friends!au
summary: In his defense, his trysts with you and his job at your father’s office were initially non-mutually exclusive.
warnings: emotional constipation, mean!reader, age-gap, explicit sexual content (dom!yoongi, sub!reader, dom-sub themes, oral (m), manhandling, unprotective penetrative sex, bondage, gagging), not a happy ending, unrequited feelings that are being denied left and right (’:
word count: 3.9 k
submission for the September Games hosted by House Yoonus.
❂ “Fall For Romance”
⁂ Hosted by: Professor Dia @yoonia through @bangtansorciere
⤐ AU Type: Salted Caramel Ice Cream - Unrequited Love AU
⤐ Themes: Forbidden Romance | Age Gap
⤐ Kinks: Bondage, Throat Fucking, Cum Play
note: so i saw this yoongi and lost my sanity, which resulted in this! this fic seems to have a lot of backstory bec it’s somewhat of a spin-off to a bodyguard!jk series i have in the works. i also decided to tweak it a bit and make it presentable for this month’s games for the bcs net, bec why tf not?
a very huge bucket of gratitude to ridzie, my luff @taegularities for beta reading this for me! y’all could never imagine the kind of typos she sifted through to stop this from turning into a whole comedy, smh. one of them was “noses” instead of “noises,” and that is a tame one. LOL. thank you so much for brushing this, and hyping me, up, bestie! 🥺 i love you! 🥺❤
— feedback is always appreciated!
Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, nails scratching through the dark roots of his undercut beneath the silver locks. Sweat is collecting under the collar of his white oxford despite the air-conditioning in the room. His pants are straining so hard, it hurts.
Maybe he should stop staring and do something about all of this.
He licks his lips, unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back on his heels, wondering if he should sit down for this.
But then a tiny, little whimper escapes your gagged lips and he launches into action – unbuckling his belt and whipping down the zipper of his pants as he undoes the fly. He lets his pants fall down to his ankles, making the hasty decision to sit on the edge of the bed, and beckons you closer.
You immediately follow, like the obedient pet you are, crawling closer to him on your knees. Your large eyes blink up at him and when he nods to grant you your wordless permission, your face presses up against his boxers clad length. He cups your jaw in his palm, smoothing his thumb over the side of your cheek bulging under the impact of your soiled panties that he stuffed into your mouth roughly an hour ago when he had to urgently leave to take an important call.
And you waited for him to return, sitting and waiting all pretty in the same position he left you. His dick pulses and heart thuds at the thought. He wishes he could curb the latter, though, because that is highly inconvenient.
You look so good like this, all bound and gagged and wet for him, only him. If he was a weaker man, he would nut at just the sight. Who knew that the girl he first met at an airport and hated with all his might for spilling coffee on his pristine, white shirt would some day beg him to use her body the way you daily do? He certainly didn't.
You whimper again, and he hums.
"What is it, princess? Got something to say?"
You sit back up to nod so violently, your chin collides into your collarbones. He laughs at your pathetic state, clicking his tongue.
"God, look at you. So fucking desperate. So filthy. So damn unbecoming of the country's metaphorical princess, hmm?"
You bat your lashes at him, pushing your breasts out in defiance, and he bites his lips to hold back a moan. It’s funny how you love it when he calls you that, but absolutely despite the pet name’s usage in any other capacity. Especially with regards to the reality of who you are.
"You're such a nasty baby, fuck. What would your father say if he knew what his little girl is up to when she leaves with his trusted guard, hmm?"
Your eyes narrow at his goading, and Yoongi has to coo at how adorable he finds it. He reaches forward to tug your gag out of your mouth, watching your heaving breasts with rapt attention when they rise, fall and jiggle with your rapid breaths.
A string of saliva extends from your lips and lands next to your nipple. His dick twitches at the sight, and he finally grabs his underwear to tug it off and free himself. He is fully hard, his tip angry and in dire need of friction. His eyes catch the sight of his wristwatch, a curse leaving him with the realization that he needs to get back to work in less than an hour.
"C'mon now,” he mumbles to you, “we've wasted enough time. Your dad needs me at his office by seven, let's move quickly."
You don't say a word in response, as you have been trained not to, and simply open your mouth and jut your tongue out for him.
Yoongi groans at the sight, wrapping a hand around himself, running it over a couple of times to spread the precum all over before resting his tip against your waiting tongue. You look into his eyes and start to roll your tongue around, licking him like a fucking lollipop. He can’t believe how amazing you are at this – both, giving head and listening to commands.
His other hand reaches down to rub your saliva over your boob, fingers plucking at your nipple, and he wishes he had more time so that he could feast on these the way he loves to. For now, he settles on briefly groping them before his attention is forced on the sensations in his dick when you rub your tongue all the way down from his tip to the base.
“Fuck, princess, you’ll be the death of me,” he mutters as he gathers your hair in a loose fist, later chuckling to himself when he realizes how much factual truth his lustful words actually hold.
Well, because –
Remember when he asked what your father would do if he knew what you were up to when you went away with Yoongi? Well for one, he would murder him. And then maybe lock you away at a Church, or something, for fucking around with him – Min Yoongi, the President’s most trusted security detail.
Yeah, that's him. Along with being the Leader of one of the country’s most reputed Security Agencies, one that is always working with high profile clients like your father, the President of the country, himself.
In his defense, his trysts with you and his job at your father’s office were initially non-mutually exclusive.
But, like, maybe lusting after the President's daughter when he didn't know she was the President's daughter was alright. But fucking your face like a deranged demon after he has gained full knowledge? Yeah, that might not be very ideal for his job. Or his life.
But what's he gotta do when you're kneeling in front of him, all naked and pretty with your hands behind your back and tongue out? Basically begging him to ruin your throat? Is he expected to say no?
Yoongi grunts in pleasure when your mouth wraps around his tip, looking down at you with shuttered eyes. How is it that you look this beautiful when his cock spreads your lips apart so obscenely?
There's gotta be something wrong with his head for feeling the things he feels when he's with you, because going down this line of thoughts is straight up suicide. And it's stupid, too, because the only time he spends with you is when you're fucking in some or the other capacity.
And your arrangement works fine. You need someone to push you around in bed and Yoongi needs a fucktoy. Besides, whoever heard of a dom falling for their sub? No one, that’s right. It’s always the other way round. Which is why Yoongi refuses to acknowledge all the lurches his heart gives when he’s with you.
What business does he have feeling things when he quite literally knows next to nothing about you beyond the details of your family. You can’t fall for someone you don’t even know, right? Obviously.
His tip hits the back of your throat when you suddenly attempt to swallow him whole, and Yoongi sighs at the feel of your throat clenching over him, all unwanted thoughts cleansed off his brain.
He grins at you with his teeth clenched, lazily trailing his hands up your body to find purchase in your hair. He grips at the gorgeous curtain of your tresses—immediately mentally cursing himself for thinking of them as gorgeous like a stupid fuck—and gradually slips into directing your head over his cock, gliding the heavenly warmth of the wet cavern of your mouth all over himself.
“Oh, princess, this mouth of yours – fuck,” leaves him in a low pitched groan, his breath hitching with every brush of the back of your throat against his crown.
Finding a satisfactory rhythm, he hurriedly nods at your inquisitive eyes, reassuring you that you can relax your throat and your mind, like always, and you do just that. He grips your hair harder and thrusts into your mouth with complete abandon, throwing his head back when the knot behind his navel starts to tighten.
You gag around him, helplessly, tears dropping down your face, mixing with your spit when they run past your lips and adding onto the lubrication. Yoongi unhinges his jaw at the sight, letting all kinds of uncontrollable noises escape him.
Over the couple of months that he has been doing this with you, your body has become remarkably trained at keeping your needs and reactions in check. Yoongi cannot help but be appreciative of how you don’t fidget in your bonds for a single second even when he very nearly cuts your air supply off with the force of his thrusts down your throat. Your shoulders stay still, hands calmly crossed behind your back where he neatly tied them with your favorite, dark purple silk rope.
That is not to say your body doesn’t shake from the impact of his bruising pace, because it certainly does. You get dragged back and forth on the floor every few seconds and your knees are sure to develop abrasions after this, no matter how soft the carpet beneath you is.
Yoongi’s gaze leaves said knees to travel along the length of your folded legs to zero in between your thighs.
Your center is not as visible to him from this angle as he would like for it to be, but knowing you like the back of his hand as he does, he is certain you’re very close to dripping your arousal down on the carpet, across the couple of inches of distance between your pussy and the floor. The thought makes him groan loudly, eyes screwing shut involuntarily.
Suddenly, he wants to check and see how right he is.
He pulls you off his cock, hands clenching in your hair as a shudder passes through his body at the sudden change in temperature his length is exposed to. When he opens his eyes, he finds you panting and trying to maintain eye contact with him. His heart does that thing again, and he curses all deities in the world for inconveniencing him with the damn organ that he has no need for in his life.
“Come here,” he grumbles to you, frowning and projecting his anger at you for something that is not in the least your doing.
When you move to crawl closer, he shakes his head and leans down to wrap both his palms around your upper arms to lift you off the floor.
“On my lap.”
Your wide eyes meet his from less than an inch away when he situates you comfortably over his thighs, slowly unfolding your legs from their hairpin bend so as to not cause your muscles to cramp up. You still wince, and he lunges forward to pull you in a deep kiss.
Your lips are already open, and it takes him less than three seconds to win against your feebly fighting tongue and ravage your mouth with his.
His palms run down your back to hold your ass firmly and when he pushes you towards him, your leaking cunt molds over his length.
“Fuck—” he gasps in surprise at the amount of wetness spread all over your pussy.
Leaning away from your mouth, he runs his wondrous gaze across your face. Your eyes are closed and little and helpless whimpers stumble out of your mouth at every motion of your cunt over his length.
“Princess,” he breathes in your ear, removing one hand from your butt to cradle the back of your head, hugging you to him. “You okay?”
You nod against his neck, and the protectiveness that he feels for you in the moment makes him want to throw himself out of the closest window. He reels everything in as best as he can and instead lets your head rest against his shoulder while he uses the freed hand to guide himself towards your sopping entrance.
His fingers brush against your clit which, despite the moisture collected everywhere, is still easy to locate because of how swollen it has gotten, and it makes him go mindless with arousal that you have been this messed up from having him in your mouth.
“This okay?” he whispers in your ear, sighing happily when you nod back, and arranges himself the slightest bit before thrusting up into you.
A broken cry tears out of you, spine arching and fists clenching behind your back. Yoongi bites down on his lip to quieten his own moan of pleasure and reaches behind you to run a finger over your clenched knuckles.
“Easy, little princess.” He brushes his mouth against your temple, covering your clenched fist with his hand.
Your fingers loosen and pride swells in Yoongi’s chest.
Just the next second, though he scowls at being stupidly soft again. Growling in irritation at himself, he twists the two of you sideways to press your back on the bed. You frown at him with worlds of confusion held in your gaze. He shakes his head to stop you from questioning him. Not that you would say a word, anyway, because he hasn’t asked you to speak up yet and you’re impossibly amazing at never faltering when he gives you instructions.
Sometimes Yoongi kinda wishes you would, just so he would have an excuse to spank your perfect, pert ass red.
He pushes into you again, now leaning over your prone form on the bed, and wraps your legs around his waist, while his own stay planted firmly on the ground. Your petite body bounces with the force of his thrusts, mouth open and eyebrows furrowed, and he swears he would profess his undying love to you if you stared at him like this for a second longer—
Not that he… feels that way. No, that’s stupid. It was, uh, hypothetical. Of course.
He moves his gaze away from yours, anyway, focusing it at the place the two of you are joined, instead.
Your cunt looks so tiny, speared open lewdly by his cock, and paired with the whines every stroke pulls from you, it makes him lose his entire mind. Why are you so perfect for him?
“You good?” he still asks you to check if you’re hurting anywhere, given the less than comfortable position and your still bound hands.
You frantically nod back, as if annoyed at the intrusion and he huffs an incredulous chuckle.
Things get faster and louder with every passing second, and he can feel your body winding up tighter and tighter beneath him. Your eyes are finally shut, saving him from confronting things that he doesn’t want to, and head is tossed back into the mattress. Your hands must be suffering under the weight of both of your bodies, but not a single sound of complaint escapes you as he fucks into you without giving either of you any time to breathe.
“Princess,” he pants above you at the feeling of your heat gripping him tighter, reaching up to grip at your face, thumb digging into your bottom lip. “You gonna come for me, princess?”
You nod, hair flying about your head, sticking to your sweaty neck and splaying over the bedcovers. Yoongi removes his gaze when the sight starts to feel a bit too beautiful.
He, instead, focuses on digging his pelvis into yours in such a way that it presses over your clit, sighing in satisfaction when you shriek in response, and grips your body against him harder.
“Come on, then.” He nips at your thigh before leaning over the length of your body to dig his teeth into your breast, right above your nipple. “Be a good little princess and cream my cock. Clench me so hard, I lose it with you. Come on, princess, come for me.”
Your gasps are loud and saturated, body twisting around in obvious desperation, and Yoongi takes that as sign to press harder into you, stifling a moan when your soft body presses up harder against his planes, sending rushes of arousal down to his dick despite the oxford and the jacket he still has on.
It is with one of his hands grabbing at your tit and the thumb of the other pushing into your mouth that you come apart – screaming more than just incoherent words this time, such as curses, words of gratitude, and his name. Yoongi can’t believe himself when he realizes how much he missed your voice when he finally hears it tonight.
He is being a whole moron and it’s gonna incinerate him at the end.
Your clenching walls pull him under, though, and just as he feels the plug in his lower belly about to come off, he pulls out of you, leaving your mouth to grip his length all wet with your slick, stroking a loose fist over himself twice before he comes undone.
“Fuck fuck fuck, princess, fucking hell—”
Thick ropes of white land on you, coating your stomach, your tits, your nipples, fuck, in his release.
Yoongi sighs long and hard when he’s done emptying himself, extremely tempted to take a picture of you painted in him. The hand he still has over your breast catches some of his release, too, and before he can move to wipe it on your body, your whimper catches his attention.
You stare up at him with huge, dilated eyes, slowly opening your mouth and extending your tongue to wordlessly invite him.
Yoongi loses his goddamn mind.
“You’re such a fucking cumslut, aren’t you?”
You give him a shy but somewhat conniving grin, your mouth still open, and Yoongi curses.
He wraps his clean hand around your waist to sit you up on the bed, offering you his soiled hand to clean it up. And you lick at it, tiny kitten licks of your tongue making his head spiral with lust again. When he feels a twitch in his spent dick, he huffs in astonishment, and cupping your jaw with one hand, slides his dirty fingers into your mouth.
“Clean them up like a good, little cumslut, princess. Don’t pretend to be demure when we both know how your throat swallows my cock, hmm?”
Your lips close around three of his fingers, head bobbing up and down like does on his dick. Yoongi hates himself for wanting to tenderly tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re being so lecherous. What the fuck is wrong with him?
His clean fingers pop out of your mouth, your lips immediately curving up in satisfaction and Yoongi gives you a pleased smile in return.
He chuckles at the way your eyes sparkle at his praise, immediately sighing when he checks the time.
“Alright, princess, let’s clean up and leave. I only have ten minutes to spare.” You nod but still look at him expectantly. It takes him a moment to realize. “Oh, you can speak. Show’s over.”
You roll your eyes at his joke, tense shoulders relaxing, and Yoongi can almost see the way you change personalities from being his perfect, little sub to the President’s bitchy, entitled daughter.
Aftercare? Never heard of her. Yoongi shakes his head, amazed at how harshly you divide your behavior in and out of bed. You literally never need a single word or touch of comfort from him. The first time he tried, you got so alarmed that he was trying to start something romantic with you that Yoongi laughed until he cried. When he explained the concept to you, you were so adamant at refusing it, that he laughed some more.
Who’s laughing now, huh? He certainly isn’t.
“This was so good,” you tell him, hopping off the bed on wobbly legs that make him smirk. “Even if I’ll have to wear bracelets to cover up the bruises on my wrists.”
Working on untying your bonds when you stand with your back to him, Yoongi snorts at your words. “You’re the one who insists on ropes. I could always get you softer and more comfortable bonds.”
“I’ve already told you – I love the anticipation that builds when you’re tying them.” You turn around to narrow your eyes at him, cradling your reddened wrists in your palms. “And can you not talk like a Sugar Daddy?”
Yoongi laughs aloud at that, buttoning his pants and buckling his belt firmly over it. “As if you need one.”
“You couldn’t afford me even if I needed one, Chief Min.”
Yoongi tries to mask the impact of your words by pulling on a blank face, deflecting instead of addressing your insult. “You don’t work for me, don’t call me that.”
“I won’t call you by your name outside of bed, Min. If you don’t want me to be respectful, your wish.” You roll your eyes again and disappear into the en-suite bathroom.
He looks into the mirror hanging over the back of the hotel room’s door. His hair has gotten slightly out of place, but other than that, he looks pretty put together. Not quite what he feels on the inside, though. He doesn’t like you calling him ‘Chief Min,’ because that is what literally every other person in his life calls him. Even if you choose to address him by his surname instead of his given name, he finds solace in the fact that you’re the only person who does.
Your phone suddenly gives a few successive pings on the dresser, catching his eye.
Don’t be late!
I’ll give you a call when I get there.
I swear to god if you’re late…
I will KILL you!
His jaw clenches.
You exit the bathroom, sauntering up to the dresser to retrieve your phone in all your naked glory. He observes your face closely, teeth grinding when you grin at the text messages.
Yoongi clears his throat. “Going somewhere?”
“Yep!” you say, popping the ‘p’ and walk around the room to quickly get back into your thong and slip dress.
It suddenly strikes him that you’d been braless today. He frowns. “Dressed in that? Are you sure?”
“What the hell is wrong with my dress?” You give him an appalled look. “Joon is a friend, Dad trusts him. I’ll be safe.”
A friend. Yoongi scoffs.
“He goes to your college?” he asks, unlocking the door to the room as the two of you make your way out.
Yoongi hums in response, it suddenly hitting him how dumb what he’s doing with you really is. He’s definitely catching feelings and you… well, you can’t be bothered to so much as look at him when you’re done with the sex.
And why would you, when you have guys your age texting you to meet up, in perfect freaking grammar, spelling and punctuation. No matter how pliant or accepting you might be when you’re in his bed, you’re still a college sophomore — not even twenty yet, while he’s entering his mid-thirties. Nothing can ever, ever fruit from this. Your arrangement isn’t fine, the fuck? It’s messed up. Bound to get messier if he keeps feeling the things he does.
Which is so dumb because he doesn’t even know your college major! How the hell can he have feelings for you?
But he’s always been too weak against your pretty smile – ever since you had him washing his shirt in an airport toilet before his first meeting with your father. And so, no matter what becomes of him, no matter how messier things get between you two, he knows he will come running every time you call.
Some dom. Ugh.
tagging: @shrimpmsg @codeinebelle @afangirllikeme-blog @jimidol
note: DO NOT WORRY - you’ll see more of these two in the jk series! (tho i might not release it before 2022 bec LOTS to do!)
© jimilter | 2021
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HAPPY JIMIN DAY ; 13/10/2021
happiest birthday to the person in south korea, city of seoul, who understands me ♡
lyrics trans by genius.com
my other fanarts
im late im srry :)
© blckjeon 2021. do not repost, modify or use for commercial purposes.
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tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls | k.th.
pairing: art-student!taehyung x creative-writing-student!reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: angst | smut | fluff | humor | college!au | established relationship!au
summary: One drink too many at Hoseok’s Halloween party, and you’ve blanked out on the entire night that followed. Now, who’s gonna fill you in when Taehyung looks one second away from breaking into tears when you bring it up with him? From running across the university campus in remnants of your vampire outfit, to dealing with your downtrodden boyfriend’s disappointed stares - you’re left with one hell of a day, and zero recollections.
warnings: swearing + talks of alcohol (literally the whole tHEME of the story) + casual use of the word “amnesia” by careless college students + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts, really explicit makeout sessions, dry-humping, lil bit breast play, lil dirty talking, fingering) + love bites galore.
word count: 19.2 k
note: so. issa a humongous beast, i know. i literally cannot fathom how i wrote these many words without posting anything in between. also, believe it or not, i fleshed out the plot for this fic all the way back in June, 2019. it's taken me nearly two years and a HELL LOTTA editing to the basic storyline to finally be able to finish this off. also, i extended this AU to include all the boys, so...kinda had to rope in their stories, too, lol. hope you enjoy this while i go slave off on the rest of the six fics~ 🥺💜
💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
— feedback is always appreciated!
A knock sounded, seemingly coming from the end of a miles long tunnel. You groaned, pursing your lips against the pounding that echoed in your head in response.
Gosh, what was this? Why was your mind so freaking foggy? What did you do last n—
"Angel? Are you in there with hyung?"
You wrinkled your nose, always hating how your boyfriend's entire group of friends had taken to address you by the pet name he gave you—to the limit where you legitimately didn't always remember that "angel" wasn't your name. They said it was somewhat of a "norm" in their group that came into practice when Jin forbade them all from saying his girl's name. Or getting too friendly by calling her “noona” in a really creepy way.
You'd had eight months' experience of this idiocy now, but that didn't make you cringe any less whenever you heard the address.
You tried swallowing past the sand in your mouth, eyebrows wrinkling as you willed your brain to interpret what the voice said beyond your "name."
And then it registered.
In there? With hyung?
What the hell?
"What? No, hyung, I can’t just rattle the knob to check—what? I might have heard some... wait. Why? What? No! Noona is—no, she's an adult, I'm sure she can make her own decisions! I’m not going to—I'm disconnecting the call, Namjoon-ssi, this is so uncomfortable!"
Your eyes fluttered open in pitch black darkness.
Namjoon-ssi? Who was referring to your dumbheaded best friend with such respect?
Wait, wait, wait.
Only one person called you…
"Jungkook?" you muttered, wincing at how horrible you sounded.
Releasing a deep breath, you came to the conclusion that you were dealing with a hangover. A really, really bad hangover, because your recollection of how you got to this point was nil.
Blinking, you opened your eyes wider, looking around in an attempt to catch bearings of where you were, because the overwhelming heat wrapped around your body definitely didn't remind you of your cold ass dorm room.
You squirmed, attempting to stick your feet out of the warm covers that seemed to be stifling you whole, specifically your legs and your midsection.
The voice—well, more of a groan that you couldn't really comprehend—had come from somewhere near your rib cage.
You pulled your arms down from where they were rested under your pillow, wincing at the soreness that'd taken residence in them. With slight shaky fingers, you reached over to where you hoped the nightstand would be. To your luck, your fingers brushed over a smooth table top before bumping into what felt like a button that could belong to a bedside lamp.
Swallowing the cotton wool lodged in your throat, you pressed down with your index and middle fingers, immediately hissing in discomfort when blinding light burned your corneas.
Something soft brushed against the underside of your boobs. Your eyes immediately snapped open wide, disregarding the killer headache that ensued. Your heart was pounding hard, fear climbing up your windpipe as you looked down.
Your naked boobs greeted your line of vision, followed by a mop of black hair.
You heaved in a huge gulp of air.
No, no, no, no, this couldn't—
Were you naked?
You didn't realise when your eyes had squeezed shut, but they fluttered open when a contented hum echoed around you, a small gust of warm breath brushing against your stomach.
"Uh…" You wanted to say something to the fluffy, dark hair moving around over your abdomen, but you were at a loss.
Why was he lying over your naked body? God, was he naked, too?
What the heck had happened last night?
"Whoa." The fluffball on your abdomen moved completely, and a pair of round, pretty eyes connected with yours past your bared breasts. "What a beautiful sight to wake up to. Good morning, baby."
You involuntarily shivered at your boyfriend's gravelly morning voice. The damn pitch that was deeper than the ocean on the regular, tended to penetrate the layers of the earth itself when he woke up.
Oh, God. You had only ever seen him topless. And only seen, not even touched. Or more. So, waking up to being topless and under him was making your heart beat out of your chest, and your body burn with sparks, all over.
"Hmm?" Plump lips connected to your skin, dragging over the sides of your breasts.
Your breathing was immediately unsteady even when your eyes widened in alarm. "T—Tae, wait…" You swallowed thickly when he climbed up your body and set his hands on the bed next to your pillow, his face hovering inches above yours.
You breathed in, preparing to speak past the bundle of nerves in your throat, and—froze.
A corner of your lips twitched.
His eyes were surrounded by huge pools of black, that you could now recall was eyeliner that you'd meticulously applied on him, last evening. The bright red lipstick he'd gone for in order to finish off his vampire look, was now smudged all the way down to his chin.
Despite the killer throbbing in your head and your panic at your state of undress, you couldn't hold back a fit of laughter at the sight. "Tae, baby—your makeup…" You managed to mumble between bouts of uncontrollable giggles.
Taehyung just grinned at you, shaking his head in silent humor. "As if you're any better. Ooh, look at this!" His eyes suddenly widened, focusing on your neck. "Your neck looks like you got attacked by a vampire, baby."
You smacked his chest with a harrumph, ignoring the warm, firm feel of it, rolling your eyes when he broke into laughter. "Pretty sure you were the one that did it, smartass."
"Well. I don't see a problem with it. We were supposed to be vampire mates, after all." Flashing you a smirk that would've been a lot more irresistible to you if it weren't for all the smudged lipstick on his face, Taehyung rolled off your body to sit at the edge of the bed. "This headache, though… ugh…" He groaned, massaging his forehead with a hand. "How much did we have to drink, Angel?
You slowly sat up in bed, dragging the sheets to cover yourself all the way up to your neck. Your brows furrowed in concern. How much did you have to drink, for real? The way you couldn't seem to recall literally anything from the party last night was kind of a sign that it had gone beyond your limits.
Clearing your throat in nervousness, you lifted the edge of the sheet to take a peek at yourself, breathing a tiny sigh of relief on finding your panties still wrapped around your hips. So at least you hadn't gone all the way, right?
"Hey, Tae," you called out, stopping your boyfriend on his way to the bathroom. He was clad only in a pair of boxers that accentuated his plump butt, which was also a first time experience for you, but you figured that it was better than nothing. "We, uh, what did we do last night?"
Taehyung looked at you over his shoulder, brows slightly creased in confusion. "What? We went to Hobi hyung's Halloween party, baby, dressed as vampires. Hence the makeup…?"
You shook your head, gulping down your nerves. Taehyung had completely turned around to look at you, now, arms crossed against his bare chest. In spite of the ridiculously smudged makeup on his face, he made a damn appealing sight. You willed your gaze to not stray down to his sculpted thighs for the sake of your own sanity.
"I—I mean...after," you mumbled with flaming cheeks.
Your asshole of a boyfriend grinned wickedly at that, moving his hands to place them on his hips. "Uh huh. After, baby? What do you think?" He gave you an exaggerated wink.
You looked down at your fingernails, your entire body almost shivering out of nervousness and each one of your nerve endings inducing sparks all across your body. You were pretty sure you were blushing all the way from your ears, down to your chest.
Soft thumps of feet padding across the floor echoed around the room. You felt his warmth near you before his fingers tapped beneath your chin, prompting you to look up.
You did, eyes widened and breathing halted.
Taehyung's brows were lowered and lips pursed together as he looked at you with soft, concerned eyes. "Do you…do you not remember anything?"
The hesitation in his voice almost caused your heart to stop beating. Why was he being like this? Had the two of you actually done it, last night?
And…you didn't even remember anything?
"Oh, God, Taehyung! Why do I not remember?" you suddenly cried out.
"Hey, hey, baby, it's okay!"
What? No, it wasn't.
You'd had sex with your boyfriend for the first ever time after eight months of dating, four out of which you'd spent dreaming extremely lewd and inappropriate dreams about him, and now―and now you didn't remember it!
"I'll go take a shower, and then we can talk about last night. Okay, baby? Hey, look at me," Taehyung softly spoke to you, carding long, elegant fingers of one of his hands through your hair. He cupped your cheek with the other. "Don't worry, Angel, you're just hungover right now. I'm sure it'll all come back once your head's feeling better."
You swallowed thickly, kinda pissed at yourself for feeling so emotional about this, but kinda more pissed at your drunk self for doing the do with the love of your life when she knew she was too far gone to retain the memories.
"I love you, baby," said love of your life murmured to you, leaning in to peck your forehead softly.
"Love you too, baby," you mumbled back, watching, from the corner of your eye, as his shapely ass made its way down the room and into the bathroom.
You exhaled, loudly. Even though you loved him beyond measure and trusted him completely, you didn't wanna talk to Taehyung, right now. He remembered everything from last night, and the torn, hesitant, kinda hurt look in his eyes made you feel insecure and disadvantaged.
You knew you had to cure your hangover first, vent out about how dumb you felt, and have someone reassure you that forgetting about your first time with your boyfriend wasn't the end of the world, before having that conversation with Taehyung.
And you also knew how you were gonna accomplish that.
You needed your best friend.
You’d already pounded on the door like crazy twice by the time you first heard movement from inside. What the hell was Namjoon busy with now? Hadn't he called Jungkook up just a while earlier, causing the boy to wake you up?
It was one o'clock on a Sunday morning, anyway. There was no way someone like Namjoon was busy.
Wait. Hadn’t he been at the party last night, too? You couldn’t really recall, to be honest.
God, what was Hobi serving last night?
Tapping your feet impatiently, you scratched at your cheek. The water base, super dry moisturiser you’d stolen from your boyfriend’s roommate was definitely not meant to suit your skin type. But you had no choice. You were in a crisis. You had needed to escape the dorm before Taehyung came out of the bathroom, and you couldn’t have exactly walked out with the remnants of last night’s vampire makeup all over your face.
You looked down at your ridiculous attire consisting of the leather shorts you wore last night, topped with a huge, off white sweatshirt you'd found lying over the living room couches. You guessed it was Taehyung's, but you were, embarrassingly, not completely certain and it very well could have been Jungkook's. Either way, it didn't really matter, ’cause, as mentioned before, you were in a freaking crisis. Your feet were wrapped up in the spare pair of bathroom slippers you kept at Tae's.
Exhaling loudly, you pulled up your arm to bang heavily against the damn door, again. "Where the fuck are you, Namjoon? Open up!"
Mere seconds later, grumbles seeped through the door to you, and then it was slowly unbolted.
You were gonna straight up fall into Namjoon and legit beg him to comfort you until your body melted—
"Well, hello there, sexy cheeks! What a pleasant surprise!"
You groaned aloud. Just what you needed to make this morning a bigger headache—your best friend's roadside romeo, can-never-keep-it-in-his-pants, creep of a roommate. "Jackson. Get the fuck out of my w—"
"And, FYI, I was referring to your ass cheeks."
You gritted your teeth. "Where's Joon?"
The cocky guy in front of you shifted to set his hips against the doorjamb. "Sleeping. He came in late, last night. That damned loser was at the party till two am on a Saturday night, and didn’t even bring a girl back home. What a fucking waste."
You squinted at him. "Bullshit. He called Jungkook earlier."
"Yeah, well, he went back to sleep after that. It's Sunday, sexy cheeks, even a nerd like Joon is allowed to sleep in today. He's been working his ass off at the library for a couple nights, anyway."
"Stop stereotyping him." You rolled your eyes. "Will you move?"
Jackson's silver blonde hair moved across his forehead as he tilted his head to look at you with a sly grin. "What if I refuse?"
"I'll stab you and walk over your body."
His eyes momentarily widened, but then he gave a nervous giggle. "O–oh? We won't want that to happen now, would we? Come on in, sexy cheeks!"
"Stop calling me that!" you snapped, walking into the dorm and heading straight towards Namjoon's bedroom.
"What? But that's my pet name for you! I don't wanna call you Angel like the rest of the fucking college!"
"It's just seven guys, Wang, jeez. Also, I actually have a name?" you yelled over your shoulder, fiddling with the awful door knob on Namjoon's bedroom door that was almost always jammed. Like it was right now. Good God!
"Your name? That's so mainstream, babe, have some respect for my vibe, at the very least."
"I'm not your babe!"
"But you could be!"
"I'll slap you, Jackson, shut the—" you broke off with a grunt as the doorknob finally twisted free. But your relief had a super short life, because then you had to nearly cause your shoulder to rupture when you tried to get the door to budge. "Why does this idiot not complain about getting this shitty fucking door changed? He'll get stuck in there someday and die, I'm telling you."
"Whoa. You're contemplating way too many murders for a Sunday morning, sexy cheeks. All okay?"
You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "You want me to actually commit one of them?"
Jackson's eyes widened and he slowly retracted his steps to the kitchen, where he presumably was before he came to open the door, given the apron he'd tied over his muscle tee and the random patches of white powder that covered his exposed upper arms. You rolled your eyes once again, and gave a particularly hard push to the door, making yourself stumble in as the door suddenly opened.
Namjoon stood on the other side, though, eyes barely open and silver blonde hair mussed.
He was shirtless, in the process of trying to unwind a twisted up t-shirt. "Whoa, whoa—hol' up—when did I say you could come in?"
You paused. Your eyebrows lowered. Your eyes narrowed. The audacity?!
"I've seen you pantless, Namjoon," you deadpanned.
"Wha—is that even a word—"
"Dude, I've seen your penis when it wasn't as big as my pinky toe!"
"Okay, hang on now, it's got to be at least the pinky finger—"
"We were four. It was the pinky toe." You exhaled when Namjoon gave up and went back to getting into a t-shirt over his plaid shorts. "Are you not looking at me, right now? Do you not see what kind of a wreck I am? What sort of a best friend are you?"
"Uh, a sleep deprived one? And, for the record, I actually am not looking at you, 'cause my eyes aren't exactly open and functioning at the moment, anyway."
You shot him a glare, but then exhaled and slumped down on his bed with your shoulders drooped. "I fucked up, Joonie."
Namjoon stopped in the process of blindly hunting for his glasses in the top drawer of his nightstand. He looked at you, complete with his swollen ass eyes and bee stung lips. You would have laughed if your own tragedy wasn't laughable in itself.
Namjoon shut his mouth and straightened up. "I, uh… You fucked up? Kinda hard to swallow. You're an inspiration to everyone, babe. Angel never fucks up."
You groaned a little upon hearing the wretched "pet name" tumble so smoothly from your best friend's lips. "Angel? Really, Joon?"
Namjoon shrugged, standing on his toes and extending his arms above his head in a full body stretch before he settled on the twin bed next to you. "I've got to, hun. You know how Jin hyung gets when he hears any of us call you anything but Angel."
"He's not here right now, though, is he?"
"Well, I'm trying to practice." He shrugged a shoulder. "So, are you here to pointlessly argue with me, or are you here to discuss how, exactly, did you fuck up? You were with Tae last night from what I gathered out of Jungkook's flustered half-sentences. Did something happen between you guys?"
"Yes?" You grimaced. And then you thickly swallowed. "I… I had sex with Taehyung.”
You looked at him when Namjoon had been silent for too long. He was blinking at you. "I don't see any fucking up happening, Angel, only fucking Tae."
Oh, how you'd slap him into the next galaxy if you had the energy at the moment. "Kim Namjoon, I swear to God—"
"Okay, okay, sorry. So. How does having sex with your boyfriend equate to fucking up? What'd I miss?"
You sighed. "I was completely hammered, and don't remember a single thing."
Namjoon's eyebrows rose very slowly. "Wait…what?"
You frowned. "Don't make me repeat it, Joon."
"I'm not, girl, but. Just. I—I don't seem to comprehend."
"I had sex with him for the first fucking time, Namjoon, and I don't remember a single detail! You know, I wanted to know how it all went down, how intense, sexy and gorgeous he looked on top of me. I wanted to save it to my memory. If he was on top. Otherwise, what he looked like when desperate and begging below me."
"But I remember nothing! I'm so embarrassed, Joon! Maybe he put those gorgeous ass fingers of his to good use. I bet he did!"
"I don't even know if he ate me out or if I sucked him off, because I would have loved to, before we—"
"Holy fuck, stop! I don’t wanna hear that, gross!" Namjoon pressed both his palms against his ears, his face pulled into an expression of utter disgust. His mouth opened, probably to give you a piece of scolding, but then his gaze dropped to your exposed collarbones and his eyebrows raised. He removed his hands with wide eyes. "Now, I don’t know about those dirty freaking details, and I don’t want to—but I can guess that your night was definitely passionate. Maybe a bit rough."
You frowned, following his line of sight—
And then sprung to your feet with a loud gasp. "Holy fucking shit! What the hell—"
You gripped the neckline of the hoodie and tugged it away from your chest. "He left bruises, Joon, these aren't just bites!"
"God damn—" You struggled to wrestle the hoodie off your body.
"I need to fucking see, Joon—"
"But I don't!" Namjoon squeaked.
You managed to remove the hoodie completely, your hands busy patting around your boobs to feel for bruises. You looked up at your best friend to find him turned away with both his palms pressed up against his eyes.
It took you a moment to realise that he was throwing a fit about you being topless in front of him. You exhaled. "Must I remind you that you've seen me pantless, too, Joon?"
"We were kids! And now we're not! I don't wanna pop a boner for my childhood best friend that I've shared poops with!"
You grimaced. "You won't, Joon. It's as you said—we've shared poops. It's physically impossible for us to get turned on by each other."
"I'm still a straight guy, though, and boobs are boobs."
You clicked your tongue, choosing to walk into his bathroom to, partially, save him from dying out of panic, but mostly analyse your upper body in the mirror.
You hummed to yourself when you found a blossoming patch of pink right under your left boob, and an almost navy spot above your right nipple.
You fought a whimper of despair. Sex with Taehyung seemed like something that’d get you wet by memories alone. But you'd already missed your first chance to make them.
You grumpily stomped back to Namjoon's bed and collected the hoodie you'd tossed on it. Pulling it over, you smacked a turned away Namjoon upside his head. "I'm dressed, loser."
"Not wanting to see your boobs makes me a loser?"
"Making a big fucking deal out of it while I'm stuck in a very embarrassing and kind of an impossible situation does!"
“Oh my God, fine! Let’s just talk about that stupid, overthinking brain of yours.”
Your mouth falls open. “The fuck? I’m not overthinking, Joon, for the love of—”
“Okay! Just—stop with all the cursing, you sound like Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get the basics down, then. Observe, analyse and calculate. You’ll tell me about how you feel in certain...areas of your body, and then we’ll conclude if any sex even actually happened or if you’re fussing over nothing. ’Kay?”
You dumbly blinked. If any sex even actually happened? You didn’t need any testing for that, Taehyung’s face had been more than enough to tell you. “No?” you sneered at Namjoon. “I know it happened. I need to know how to recall the details. Do you know, like, some brain exercise or something? Like, running a mental disk defragmenter of sorts?”
Namjoon sighed. “Listen—”
“Also, can you please dye your hair and stop twinning with the asshole next door? I feel like I’m talking to him and it makes me wanna puke.”
Namjoon sighed again. “He’s gonna dye his hair to match mine like he always does, it’s pointless.”
“Then shave it off.”
“What?” You scowled at him, rummaging through his wardrobe to try and make yourself slightly more presentable. “And get ready. We’re gonna go get some breakfast. Greasy and cheesy. And you’re gonna tell me what to do. And I’m calling Munchkin to join us.”
As you carried a pair of sweatpants into the bathroom, you heard your best friend murmur something like, “this is gonna be a long day.”
Taehyung sat sprawled all over the living room couch, barely looking up when Jungkook's room's door opened. His eyes kept digging holes into your phone that you'd left behind when you made your—very obviously hurried—exit while he was in the shower. Why, though?
Taehyung was fucking confuddled.
"Oh, finally!" Jungkook's surprised voice floated over to him moments before the boy himself rounded the couch to look down at him, entering his peripheral vision with a water bottle in hands. "Where's noona? Tell her to call Namjoon hyung, he rang me up…worrying…about her…um. Hyung? You okay?"
Taehyung blinked, raising his brows as he hummed in question, refocusing his gaze on the younger boy. "What?"
"Did you, uh, hear anything I said?" Jungkook looked at him cautiously, taking wary sips of water.
"Yeah, I heard." Taehyung looked down at his hands. "She's not here, she left."
"Left? On her own? You didn’t drop her off?" Jungkook sounded innocently curious. He chuckled. "You still hungover, or what?"
Taehyung sighed. "Well, no. But she didn't ask me to drop her. Didn't even tell me she was leaving. Also left her phone behind, for some reason."
"Maybe she was in a hurry to get away from you after last night?" Jungkook's eyes were wide in alarm even before Taehyung shot him a glare. "Sorry, I didn't… Um. That was a stupid joke, I don’t even know why I said that when I don't even know anything. Um. Sorry."
"No, you're probably right," Taehyung regretfully mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. "She was gone within five minutes."
"And is that why she stole my hoodie, too?"
Taehyung's head snapped up, again. What did he mean by that? He found Jungkook frowning at one of the armrests of the couch. "The fuck did you say?"
Jungkook's big, innocent eyes looked at him in panic. "I—I mean, I left it here after I spilt ketchup on it! Remember yesterday's lunch burgers? And now it's…well. Not here."
Taehyung rolled his eyes, secretly exhaling in relief, while at the same time annoyed at himself for thinking stupid shit. And also at Jungkook for making him think it. "The hell, Kook? How does that mean she took it?"
Jungkook squinted at him. "Okay, so then did you take it? Because I sure as heck didn't touch it, hyung."
Taehyung stilled, realising that the boy was probably right, because the top you'd worn last night was still lying on his bedroom floor. He bit his lip. Had you actually been in such a hurry to get away? Get away from him?
Did you…hate him for last night? But you'd very clearly reassured him that you wanted it and were ready and you looked actually excited about it.
You’d looked really excited about it.
But maybe you were too sloshed to think then, but were trying to avoid him with your mind sober. Maybe you regretted agreeing.
Oh no. Oh no.
"We were drunk off our asses, last night," he tried to fruitlessly dissuade Jungkook, his voice coming out tight. Because what did it even matter if you'd already changed your mind? "Maybe your drunk ass used it to clean up your whizz and then threw it out your window and forgot?"
Jungkook's gaze turned even more speculative.
Taehyung looked away, eyes landing back on your phone. Distress gripped him.
Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Say it."
Jungkook cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when Taehyung looked up to meet his shifty eyes. "Did you, uh. Did you and noona have a fight?"
Taehyung slunk lower in his place. "No, but we would now."
Jungkook cleared his throat in response before soundly gulping down water.
Taehyung almost laughed at his discomfort. The younger probably felt Taehyung needed some sort of counseling or suggestions, but he really didn't. And it wasn't just because he and Jungkook were not the best of friends despite being roommates for nearly a year now and part of the same group of friends for nearly six. No, he actually did not want it because that would make him worry that much more. He'd rather talk to you—apologize to you and try to make you understand as much as he'd be able to—whenever you decided to contact him.
Not that Jungkook would be good at consoling him, either way—the boy was horrible with words and had zero tact. His world revolved around gaming and studying music and minimal human interaction, a complete contrast to everything Taehyung was. Which was somewhat of a reason why they worked out so well as roommates.
"Uh…we…um. Nevermind." Jungkook turned to leave.
Taehyung mustered a chuckle. "Say it, Kook."
"Do you wanna go to Jin hyung's?" he spoke in a single breath.
Jin—the oldest in their group of friends and also the one Taehyung was the closest to—lived in a four bedroom apartment shared by Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin, and often, Jin's girlfriend, too, which was owned by a family member of Hoseok's. Namjoon, your best friend and the final member of the group, lived in a dorm on the other side of the campus, similar to Taehyung's own, with a school friend of his.
Now. Jungkook, being the youngest of the entire lot, was extremely insecure and conscious of himself around Jin. And so, despite nearly licking the very ground Yoongi walked on due to the guy's musical prowess that Jungkook was a fan of, the younger boy always tried to avoid visiting the house if not for extreme case scenarios when the entire group gathered there for activities that he was not allowed to skip. He usually just called Yoongi over.
And he was suggesting they visit? This had to have taken some guts.
Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanna go to that house?"
"Well, not really." Jungkook's cheeks tinged pink. "But you look like you could use Jin hyung's advice and stuff. He also, um, makes yummy hot chocolate. Jimin hyung and Hobi hyung could cheer you up, and. Um. Yoongi hyung could help me with my…semester project?"
"And here I thought you were being thoughtful!" Taehyung let out a laugh. “You just want Yoongi hyung’s help, you selfish brat.”
Jungkook ducked his head. “A little bit of both?” He clicked his tongue, whining. "Come on, hyung, I'm trying here!"
"I know, I know." Taehyung rolled his eyes but nodded, ending Jungkook's misery.
He eyed your phone and released a shaking, nervous breath.
“Well, I'm sort of driving myself nuts by sitting here. Let’s just go.”
“This is a disaster.”
You thumped your head against the table, groaning. “Gee, thanks, babe. Makes me feel so much better. I should’ve just gone back to the dorm. Wendy would’ve given me ice cream, at least.”
Your other only-best-friend-in-this-world—other than Namjoon, that is—rolled her mascara laden eyes. “It’s not my duty to make you feel better. I’m here to show you the mirror and be honest, not give you ice cream and kiss your boo-boos like your pussy roommate. That’s not helping. That’s ignoring the problem.”
“Fair point.” You sat up and looked down in your lap. “So. Do you honestly think I’m doomed?”
“I honestly think you’re stupid.”
You shot a glare at her.
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing! You yourself said you both had your lower regions covered, right?” At your nod, she clicked her tongue. “So you’re not even sure if you had sex, in the first place. And even if you did, so what? He’s your freaking boyfriend, bitch! Grab him and do the do whenever!”
“Will you tone it down?”
You jumped. And then scoffed when Namjoon settled on the empty chair on your other side, putting the tray of your frothing, steaming beverages down between you three.
"Tell me why you nicknamed this one munchkin and not guerrilla, again?" Namjoon grumbled, scowling at your girl best friend. "She's got their lung capacity."
"Because she's got munchkin legs," you mumbled, hurriedly bringing the styrofoam cup to your mouth to taste nirvana. “Ah, this is so good! And she walks super slow, like a freakin’ munchkin.”
"Oh, so that's also an insult?" Namjoon looked at your best friend with gleaming eyes. "I thought it was a pet name!"
Her eyes narrowed at Namjoon for a second, before her expressions dropped into a lascivious smile. "You thought it was cute, didn't you?" she dramatically batted her lashes, leaning closer to Namjoon, pushing her voluminous chest out. “You think I’m cute too, dontcha, Joon bug?”
Namjoon, immune to her dramatic, completely unnecessary seduction, blew a raspberry in her face.
“Ew, you animal!” she shrieked, flinching away as droplets of spit rained on her face. “Gross!”
“You asked for it,” Namjoon deadpanned, sipping from his cup.
“Guys,” you began. “Can we please talk about what I should do?”
“Uh, can I please also mention what you should not have done?” Munchkin squinted at you. At your noncommittal shrug, her expressions morphed into a sharp glare. “Sneak out. I mean, he’s your damn boyfriend of nearly quarter of a year, babe! Why the hell would you want to confide in Captain Dumbass, over here, and not him?”
“My IQ’s greater than you, but other than that—valid point, dude.” Namjoon turned to stare you down. “When it all winds down, and you end up sorting it out, he’s still gonna be hurt that you ran away, man.”
You bit your lip. You hadn’t thought of it that way. “I forgot my phone at his place, too, so I couldn’t even text him.”
This time Munchkin turned her horrified gaze at Namjoon, and Namjoon at you. “What?” he squeaked. “You haven’t even texted him this entire time? Why didn’t you ask for my phone?”
“It’s almost three,” Munchkin mumbled. “He’s gonna be so pissed.” Her eyes suddenly turned wicked. “Imagine the angry sex.”
You snorted, bitterly. “How? I got fucking amnesia after our first time together, remember? I don’t even know what to imagine.”
Your best friends groaned in unison.
The second Hoseok invited them in, Jungkook went off like an arrow towards the direction of Yoongi's room.
Taehyung gave a dry chuckle, raising his eyebrows at Hoseok’s puffy eyes as he waved his hand before the guy’s face in greeting. “Good morning, hyung!” he said with fake cheeriness to grate on the elder’s nerves.
Hoseok gave him the most venomous scowl Taehyung had ever seen on the guy’s face and walked away.
“He was cleaning up till six am and then Jin hyung woke him up at nine to go grocery shopping!” Jimin called from his slump on the couch, past the entry hall. “Poor guy didn’t even get to get his dick wet in his own party.”
“Of course you’d mention that,” Taheyung snorted, moving to join Jimin in what seemed like a Netflix marathon. “What’s this?” He nodded towards the 50-inch.
“Pretty Little Liars,” Jimin mumbled, lifting his feet enough to make room for Taehyung and then rested them back in his lap. “It’s a story of some girls. Who lie. Because that is all that girls fucking do, apparently.”
Taehyung, despite his mental disposition, found himself snorting in amusement for the second time. “Where’s Jin hyung?”
“Dropping noona off at Jackson’s. They’re in a fight, so don’t ask him about her.” Jimin raised a brow. “All okay?”
“They're fighting? How're you handling it?" Taehyung teased, well aware of Jimin's fear of conflicts between the group's oldest couple, and got a glare back. "And, not all's okay. Kinda had a shitty night.”
“Could not have been shittier than mine. You came in with your babe, made out in every corner of the house, held her when she did a keg stand, leftmaking out—what could go wrong?”
Taehyung grimaced but didn’t protest. “When did Jin hyung leave? I didn’t see him on my way over. Why’s Honey noona even friends with that pretentious jackass Jackson, nobody likes him,” he chose to comment on Jin’s girlfriend’s questionable life choices, instead.
“Nobody but Namjoon. Don’t forget they live together. And he and noona are family friends, you know that.” Jimin frowned. “Why’re you so eager to see Jin hyung? He didn’t really say when he’d get back. Maybe he and Honey noona are…making-up. If you know what I mean. I sincerely hope they are,” he added with a despaired stare skywards as if tossing a prayer up to God.
“Shut up, pervert. I'll just text him.” Taehyung waved a dismissive hand, pulling out his phone.
Jimin cleared his throat. “At least ask me why my night was shittier, you ass.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, shooting Jimin a flat look. “You didn’t get laid, I already know it.”
“Well, that, yes. But also, the circumstances leading up to me not getting laid? Ugh.” Jimin scrunched his nose. “So there’s this cute, little, busty babe, okay? Shaking her boobs up in my face, and I know she wants to fuck, but. I can see how sloshed she is, so I, you know? Hold back.”
Taehyung raised his eyebrows, still typing away on his phone. “Doubt that.”
“I did, okay? Wait till you hear the rest of it.” Jimin’s head dangled off the armrest, upside down and Taehyung could only see his neck as he spoke. “She comes on too strong, and at one point—I can’t resist. But when she’s on her knees, she’s so confused that I… man, I felt so bad. She was wasted, dude!” Jimin pulled himself back up, nestling his head against the armrest as he frowned at Taehyung. “So I tell her no. She cries. I try to comfort her, but she just keeps sobbing. And then she fucking throws up all over my carpet and—I still fucking try to take care of her. And, you know, after I’ve given her hugs and a water bottle and so much pep talk—her phone rings and she says she has to go. Now, get this.” Jimin sits up, now scowling at Taehyung. “She has a fucking boyfriend.”
Taehyung couldn’t hold back the laughter that burst out of him, his head rolling back against the back of the couch as he held his stomach. Just the one time in his life Jimin tried to be a gentleman, it backfired. But it served Jimin right for trying to get into everyone’s pants. He told the guy as much.
Jimin scoffed. “I don’t try to get into everyone’s pants, dude. I’ve never tried to turn the charm on you, have I?”
“’Cause you know you’d fail.”
“I would not and you better believe that, Kim Taehyung.” Jimin suddenly licked his lips and sat up to get into Taehyung's personal space. “You see these lips? They—”
“Yah, Park Jimin! Get your paws off my dongsaeng!” Jin entered the house with a booming yell.
Taehyung sighed in relief, grateful for more reasons than one. “Morning, hyung!”
“It’s afternoon, brat!”
“I thought he was your dongsaeng?” Jimin mocked. “And for the record, he’s mine, too.”
“I’m barely three months younger, Jimin, fuck off.”
“Tae! Leave this idiot be and go wait in my room. I’ll join you in a bit.”
Taehyung stood up to locate Jin to find the older one heating something up in the microwave, aggressively pushing things around. It was a strange sight. Jin’s temperament was always cooler than a cucumber. And he especially tended to his kitchen appliances and utensils with an impossibly tender hand. He was clearly agitated, completely unlike how he normally was. Was his fight with his girlfriend that bad?
As if sensing his gaze, Jin looked up, concern shining in his eyes when they met Taehyung’s. Taehyung imagined his own must have reflected it back. “You okay, hyung?”
Jin sighed. “Been better,” he tiredly mumbled, running a hand down his face. “I saw your texts. I gather you haven’t eaten?”
Taehyung nodded, silently, walking around the couch to join the older in the kitchen. Settling on a stool, he observed Jin's furrowed eyebrows and set jaw. Something had to have happened recently, or he'd have noticed something in Jin's behaviour earlier.
“I haven’t eaten either, hyung,” Jimin yelled from the living room, sounding offended instead of whiny or seductive, for once. “This sort of favoritism is too much, even for you.”
Jin narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “You know, every time Honey ignores me, I'm immediately reminded of how you could have taken that blonde to your own room, Park Jimin. So no, the favouritism isn't too much. And for the record, you’re more than capable of feeding yourself. This one? Not so much, right now.”
Taehyung hung his head, curious about what all Jin just said to Jimin, but also immensely floored by Jin’s concern for his own well being. Despite clearly not being in the right state of mind himself, he was still caring for Taehyung. He mentally thanked Jungkook for bringing him here.
Clearing his throat, Taehyung placed his hands on the kitchen counter. “When I didn't see Honey-noona at the party last night, I thought it was work related. You two often skip parties to catch up on your beauty sleep and all that. Is something the matter, hyung?"
Jin extracted some sort of noodles from the microwave and shut his eyes. "She's mad at me."
Taehyung's eyebrows rose. Jin and his girl had been together for over five years, now. They were past the stages of fighting over petty things. It had to be serious. "Oh?"
"And it was triggered by something that idiot did!" Jin finished, pointing an accusatory finger at Jimin.
The latter clicked his tongue. "For the last time, hyung," Jimin called out, sounding exasperated, "she’s mad over something else. The sooner you figure that out instead of blaming me every time you meet her, the faster your fight would be resolved.” He peeked at Jin over the couch's back. "And can you please make a quick work of it? I hate this phase…"
Taehyung’s eyebrows lifted up. Escaping the blame—classic Jimin. “What, exactly, did you do, Jimin? What blonde didn’t you take to your own room?” he asked, repeating Jin’s words from earlier.
“Irrelevant. He’s actually correct,” Jin interrupted, walking out of the kitchen. “You'll understand when I tell you. But right now, let’s talk about your problem. Come on.”
Although Taehyung was both curious and worried about Jin’s fight, he was more downtrodden due to his own situation at the moment, so he decided to follow the older boy upstairs, to Jin's room.
On entering the room, Taehyung slumped into Jin’s armchair while the man himself turned on the lights and made his way towards Taehyung with a water bottle and a huge bowl of reheated chicken noodles in hands.
Taehyung uncapped the bottle as soon as it was handed to him, not realising how badly parched all the worrying had gotten him.
“I, uh, went to the shop you texted me. Have you guys really talked it through?”
Taehyung’s head snapped up. “What?” he asked, swallowing a huge gulp of water.
Jin cracked a smile for the first time. “One of the thirteen texts you sent me was about this shop, remember? It was on the way, so I dropped by to look around, but I couldn't really choose—”
Taehyung’s phone rang, interrupting Jin. It was Namjoon. They both frowned.
What if the guy was still calling to ask about you, like he did this morning? Taehyung had assumed that you’d have talked to Namjoon, at least. His eyes widened when it hit him — you’d left your phone behind, how would you contact anybody?
He looked at Jin. Jin crossed his arms in front of his chest, gesturing to the phone with his eyes. “Pick it up.”
With sweaty hands, Taehyung picked up. “Hey, Joon hyung.”
Silence. He frowned.
More silence. And then a hushed, indecipherable whisper sounded in the background which was followed by what sounded like a slap. Taehyung’s breath hitched.
A sharp intake of breath filtered through the speakers to him. But then nothing else.
“Whe—” He cleared his throat when his voice broke. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Tae.” Your voice was light, airy, almost like a whisper, but it managed to weigh down on his heart. “I’m okay.”
Of course, you were. You’d chosen to see Namjoon, apparently. Why wouldn’t you be okay?
“I—I’m sorry for leaving like…that. I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way.”
Taehyung was at a loss. “Wrong way? Angel, I…” He exhaled, shutting his eyes. In what way had he taken it? In what way was he supposed to take it? “Why did you leave, baby?”
No response. Taehyung’s heart seemed to keep on sinking.
“When can I see you again? We need to talk about last night. You know that, right?” He licked his lips and looked up at Jin. At the elder’s nod, he continued, “we need to finalize what we discussed. You get me?”
“I’ll see you tonight, Tae.” Your voice sounded tightly wound with emotions.
Taehyung took that as a good sign. “That’s great. I’ll be…I, uh. Just text me when you get to the dorm. Your phone’s on the coffee table. I’m at Jin hyung’s, I’ll come immediately.”
“Okay, I’ll do that. Um. Tae? I love you.”
Taehyung could breathe again. “I love you, too, Angel. I love you so much.”
He’d barely disconnected the call when Jin grabbed him by the shoulders. “Get some food in you and come with me. I went to the shop, but couldn’t really make the right purchase. You’ll have to do that yourself.”
Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But I already told her to come see me! You nodded!”
Jin rolled his eyes, taking a spoonful of noodles and stuffing them into Taehyung’s mouth that was hung open in surprise. “Because we have plenty of time, genius! It’s three in the afternoon. We’d be able to make it back before six, at any cost. Don’t worry about it.”
Taehyung took the bowl of food from him, his appetite announcing itself as soon as a bite of savoury deliciousness touched his tongue. Stuffing his face, he nodded at his phone. “Could you please put that to charge? It’s almost dead.”
And then he smiled to himself. He was gonna make everything right, tonight.
“I’m pretty sure five o’clock doesn’t count as ‘night’ in any culture across the globe.”
You ignored Munchkin’s sarcastic remark as you stepped out of the car, and gave Namjoon a grateful peck on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here, Joon.”
“Great. Ignore me and then cry when there’re consequences.”
Waving a butterfly wave at a fuming Munchkin and a chuckling Namjoon, you stepped into Taehyung’s dorm building. You knew you were early, but your nerves didn’t allow you to sit still at Namjoon’s place. You didn’t dare go back to your own dorm, knowing how chaotic Wendy tended to get and not able to muster the energy you usually needed to deal with her.
Taehyung lived in the larger, spacier and definitely pricier North Dorms. They were more like mini-apartments, with individual rooms and a living room area along with a whole kitchen instead of the tiny kitchenette you had with your own South Dorms. Namjoon lived in the East Dorms, similar in design to these, but in a wackier condition and slightly less pricey.
Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. You would take your phone, text Taehyung to inform him of your arrival, have a glass of water, and patiently wait. Jungkook wasn’t much of a talker, anyway, so you’d have some time to yourself before Taehyung for here, which you planned to utilise by giving yourself mental pep talks.
You were gonna come clean to your boyfriend and tell him that you remembered none of last night, profusely apologise for panicking and running out on him, and then, if the mood allowed for it, request him to give you a refresher that you’d be sure to memorise properly, this time.
The door was opened. Jungkook immediately jumped, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he saw you. “Oh, my God!”
You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hey, Jungkook. May I come in?”
He gaped at you for a few more seconds before shaking his head as if to break his shock induced trance. “Ye—uh. I mean, yes, you could, but hyung’s not home.”
You nodded. “I know.”
Just as you’d made to move ahead, Jungkook stopped you. His eyebrows were arched. “Unless, you don’t wanna see him and are here to grab your things—in which case, I really won’t let you in.”
You frowned. “What? No, I need to get my phone so that—”
“Absolutely not!” Jungkook blocked the door with an arm. “You’ve got to talk to hyung once before making any rash decisions, and I won’t—”
“Wait, what? Rash decisions?”
“—might be a bit young and inexperienced, but I will not be an accomplice in the ploy to get Tae hyung’s heart broken—”
“Heart broken?” You balked at him while Jungkook kept on spewing stuff that made absolutely no sense to you. “Jungkook?”
“—no clue what actually happened, but because you really should’ve stayed to talk instead of running away from hyung—”
“—not been emotional, but this really kind of hurt me, too, and you have no idea how much hyung was—”
“For fucks sake, Jungkook!” You held the guy with both his shoulders, making him immediately shut up. “Are you even listening to me? Stop speaking!”
He blinked. “Um—”
“Stop!” You held a finger in front of his face. “Zip it up. Zero noise. Absolute silence.”
At his nod, you retracted your hands and pushed past him to enter the dorm. Collapsing onto the couch, you picked up your phone which was kept on the coffee table—just as Tae had told you it would be—and opened your chat box with him.
hey babe, im here
ik im a bit early but dw, take your time
i will wait
i love u 🥺
SENT at 17:03
“I have come to talk to Tae and apologize, Jungkook,” you finally said, turning to face the guy who was still awkwardly standing at the open door. “Now please shut the door and go back to whatever you were doing. I’m gonna be here, waiting till he comes. I’ve texted him.”
Jungkook closed the door, very slowly, still looking at you warily. “You aren’t going to break up with him?”
“What? Of course not! I love him!”
He visibly relaxed, even letting a hint of a smile swim onto his face. “That’s good to hear. I thought I’d messed up.”
You frowned, scrunching your nose up in confusion. “Wait a second, you had messed up? How?”
Releasing an immensely loud sigh, Jungkook walked up to sit next to you on the couch. “Uh…” He bit his lip, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, you all know how horrible I am with words, right? It’s half the reason why I don’t talk much. I get too upfront, accidentally, and it gets horribly worse if I’ve deduced a situation wrongly and spoken about it.”
You gave a small chuckle. Jungkook was adorable, at times, looking way younger than his age. Not that you knew his exact age. You were certain he called you noona just because Taehyung was his hyung, and not because he knew your exact age. You could turn out to be younger than him, and he’d give you the same amount of respect and formality. “You just did that to me, a few minutes back.”
Jungkook shut his eyes with a wince. “Exactly. I did something similar this morning, and said stuff that I had no way of knowing facts about. And…” he trailed off again, this time squinting at your...well, boobs.
You immediately straightened. “Yah! What are you looking at?”
Jungkook looked up with rounded eyes. “That’s my hoodie.”
You looked down at yourself and physically cringed. You were the worst girlfriend in the world to not be able to tell the difference between your boyfriend's hoodies and his roommate’s. “Oh, God. Oh no, I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
Jungkook gave a small, awkward nod. “It’s fine, you’re okay.”
You shook your head at yourself. “It’s been a horrible day, Kook.”
“I’m gonna have to agree with that."
You both sat in silence for a while, and you recalled how you’d imagined you’d get peace and quiet because Jungkook didn’t talk much. You mentally snorted. The guy hadn’t exchanged as many words with you in eight months, as he did today.
Your eyes fell onto the TV in front of you. You squinted at the animated, white-ish balloon-ish things.
"Is that Soul?" you speculated.
Jungkook's cheeks and ears pinked. "Um, yes."
You lifted the remote and wordlessly unpaused the movie.
Settling on the carpet on the ground next to the coffee table, Jungkook munched on some nuts as you both watched.
The movie was good – really good and engaging, so much so that you didn't check your phone for over an hour. When it pinged with a message, you suddenly recalled that Taehyung hadn't responded to your text. Sitting up, you grabbed the device to check.
18:23 Munchkin😾 (1 new message)
You sighed in disappointment.
Scrolling past your best friend's inquisitive message, you got to your chat with Taehyung. You frowned. The message hadn't been delivered, yet.
You looked up with a start to find Jungkook's hand holding the bowl of nuts to you, his head still facing the TV. You cleared your throat. "Um, no, I'm good."
He retracted his hand without a word. "You okay, noona?"
You bit your lip. "Taehyung hasn't received my text, yet."
This time Jungkook twisted his neck to look up at you. The odd angle made it difficult to discern what expressions he held, but knowing him, it was probably surprise—his resident facial expressions, next to only occasional grimaces.
"He said he was at Jin oppa's and would come here as soon as I texted him, but…"
Jungkook hummed, turning back. "He is there, yes. We went together, but I left early because Yoongi hyung had to go to his studio. And I don't like to hangout with anybody else in that house."
You snorted at that, sobering the next second. You exhaled. "I think I should call him."
Jungkook gave a simple nod. You stood up with your phone to your ear. But then you stopped, mid-step. Taehyung's phone was switched off.
This was very unlike Taehyung.
You pursed your lips in concern. He'd sounded fine—if not more than a little low—when you talked on the phone. He didn't sound angry, that is to say. Did something happen in the meanwhile? You wondered what it could be, because as far as you knew, you hadn't done anything wrong other than running off to Namjoon for help. But it had been nearly three hours since your talk, so you couldn't really be certain about Taehyung’s mood anymore.
You were at a loss. What the hell were you supposed to do? Just stay here and wait?
But what if Taehyung was really mad for some reason and didn't come at all, and you had to stay the night? You were certain he wouldn't appreciate you staying in his dorm with his male roommate alone, overnight. Taehyung was far from an insecure or controlling boyfriend, but put in his shoes, even you would be irked if he were staying over at your dorm with just Wendy around.
You groaned at your chain of thoughts. What were you even thinking? This was so stupid. He would be here any minute, and this would all come to an end. You really wanted to slap your drunk self for putting you into this mess. Or, you realised, you could slap Hoseok for throwing the stupid party with memory wiping liquor, in the first place.
You sat back down on the couch with a thump. You were being unreasonably paranoid.
You took a few deep breaths, looking from your phone to the TV screen, and then at the back of Jungkook's head. "Jungkook?"
He hummed in response.
"I need some advice."
Jungkook turned to look at you, eyes wide in evident alarm. "No. Please no. I'm horrifyingly bad at that."
You clicked your tongue. "Tae's phone is switched off. He never turns his phone off, Jungkook."
Jungkook looked taken aback as well. He probably knew the fact. "Maybe it got discharged?"
You sighed. "Jin oppa's house has plenty of chargers and charging points."
Jungkook looked uncomfortable at that, fidgeting with his hands as he trained his gaze at your feet. "Um. I… I am not sure what…" he trailed off, biting down on his lip, looking beyond lost. "I don't even know what happened."
You shut your eyes and massaged your forehead with both hands. "What happened is that I got extremely embarrassed about…well, yesterday. Something—something happened which made me too nervous to face Tae. Coming here after so many hours, I thought I was ready to apologise and talk it through, but the longer it's taking him to get there, the more uncertain I'm getting."
You took a breath after you'd poured it all out. Jungkook was the last person you'd expect to understand your situation and give advice. But he prompted you to tell him – and it flowed out.
You shut your eyes tighter.
"If—if you think you're not ready," Jungkook suddenly began after a heavy silence of a few extended seconds, "you can step back and take a breather. Take some time to yourself, analyse and then build up the courage. In my experience, saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum."
His words gave you a pause. Namjoon and Munchkin's words came back to you. Taehyung was your boyfriend—you could talk to him, whenever. Why were you making such a big deal out of it? Well maybe because you didn't want the situation to deteriorate further. Jungkook was right. You should rethink your decision of coming clean to Taehyung, lest you create more problems between the two of you by upsetting him.
"Does… does any of that help?" Jungkook hesitantly asked you.
You gave him a big smile "I think it does."
As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the door reached you. Jungkook's head whipped around to look at it.
You breathed in, preparing yourself.
“Why’s your phone turned off, hyung?” Jungkook accosted him at the door.
You saw your boyfriend over Jungkook’s shoulder. He was frowning, and was seemingly yet to notice you. “My phone?” He brushed a hand over his trousers’ pockets, dark, curly bangs brushing his eyelids as his head bent. You bit your lip. He was irresistibly handsome without even trying. “Oh fuck,” Taehyung enunciated, looking up at Jungkook very slowly. “I left it at Jin hyung’s. Did you say it was off?”
Taehyung stepped into the dorm, wide eyes immediately colliding with yours. “Um. Hey,” you squeaked, standing up.
“H—hi,” Taehyung stumbled on his words, eyes roving first on your face and then the rest of you. He momentarily frowned, probably recognizing Jungkook’s hoodie on you, and then met your eyes with a hesitant expression on his face. “How—how long were you waiting?”
You bit your lip. He seemed to be feeling guilty already. You reckoned it would be better to not add onto it. “Not long,” you simply responded.
Taehyung took baby steps towards you, while Jungkook glided around the place, shutting the door, turning the TV off, and then exited to his own room. You looked down at your feet, only looking back up when Taehyung’s own entered your vision. “Angel,” he whispered, his breath fanning your face. His deep brown eyes looked like pools of dark chocolate. “What happened?”
The simple question made tears prickle the back of your eyes.
It was always so simple with Taehyung. He was never pretentious, never impatient, never expected the world out of you—and yet you did not share things with him like he deserved. Why did you always have to be so self conscious?
Something must have shown on your face, because the next second had Taehyung frowning and stepping forth to cup your face in both his palms.
“Hey, hey, what is it?” he murmured very softly, swiping his thumbs at your cheeks to wipe off the wetness trickling down your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay, come on,” he soothingly whispered before collecting you in his arms.
You rested your forehead on his collarbones, pulling your lower lip in to grab a hold of your emotions as you wound both your arms around his shoulders. “I love you so much, Tae,” you mumbled into his skin.
He inhaled and then exhaled, almost as if in relief. “I love you too, baby. I love you too,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a soft kiss into the crown of your head.
Pulling away, Taehyung held you by your upper arms and bent to peer into your eyes. His olive green Cuban collar shirt swayed with his movement, giving you a delicious glimpse of his toned chest. Realising how highly inappropriate it was to be thinking lascivious thoughts with tears in your eyes—when your boyfriend was trying to comfort you—you swallowed and focussed back on his eyes.
“Now, tell me. What happened this morning?” Taehyung questioned you with a boundless softness in his gaze.
You cleared your throat. "Can we – can we move this to your room?"
Taehyung nodded, readily, wrapping his elegant fingers around your elbows to lead the two of you into his room.
As you settled on the edge of his bed, your eyes caught your top from last night's outfit placed neatly folded at the top of Taehyung's dresser. You pursed your lips.
“So.” Taehyung sat down next to you on the bed, bumping his shoulders into yours.
You licked your lips, gathering courage. “I…this is gonna sound bad, babe, and, um, insulting even, but…” You turned to meet his eyes, desperately searching for any recognition. But you were met with cluelessness, and a subtle hint of apprehension. You sighed. “I — I had too much to drink last night, Tae.”
You felt him stiffen. His eyes gave away nothing. You waited for a couple heartbeats, expecting some indication that he was catching onto what you were trying to imply. Taehyung said nothing, though, and his face remained unmoving.
You looked down at your lap, wringing your fingers together. “I don’t know if I had too much, or if the combination made it so, but… I don’t—” You cleared your throat when your voice broke, chancing a glance at your boyfriend who was still as a statue. “I don’t remember a thing from last night. It’s all…a blur.”
Taehyung seemed to have stopped breathing, too, he’d gone so still. Very anxiously, you lifted your gaze to look at him.
You almost wished you hadn't, though. He looked shattered. Crushing disappointment was all over his face, hitting you like a lead arrow, and he wasn’t even looking at you.
You felt like running away, your cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. You tried to put yourself in Taehyung’s spot, employing your trusted tactic to discern how someone else must be feeling, but your head was too fuzzy with the unease you felt. You were mortified.
Taking a staggered breath in, you stood up on shaky legs. “I’m — I’m sorry, Tae,” you uttered, unsure if you were heard. “I really wish—”
“It’s fine, it’s okay. I understand,” Taehyung cut you off, suddenly, obviously trying to save face given the tight smile he had pulled up to flash at you beneath his saddened eyes. “It’s okay.”
You swallowed, shaking your head very slowly. “No,” you said. “It’s not okay, Tae. I — I wanted to make it memorable, too. Cherish the memories for life, however cliché might that sound. But I… I really blanked out, Tae.”
Taehyung’s brows got a slight crease in them by the time you were finished. But his eyes—those damned pools of love that you’d gotten so used to seeing boundless love in—looked strangely defeated. It almost felt like you’d done more than not remember a night of sex.
But then you reprimanded yourself by underlining how it wasn’t just any night of sex—it had been the first time you and the love of your life became one. Knowing how sentimental Taehyung was, it had to have hurt him tremendously. This time you were very easily able to put yourself in his place and realise that you’d be pretty pissed if he had no recollection of something precious to you. You took a step away, suddenly overwhelmed by immense guilt.
“Did nothing come back to you?” Taehyung asked, lips pouted and eyes rounded. “After so many hours, too?”
You shook your head, slowly. “I really tried, baby.”
Taehyung looked unconvinced, taking you by surprise.
He didn’t, by any means, think that you were lying about it, did he? You wouldn’t put it past your boyfriend’s overthinking brain.
“I think I — I need a break,” you blurted out, watching in horror how any remainder of color left Taehyung’s face. Jungkook’s words came back to you: saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum.
“A break?” Taehyung gawked at you.
You quickly shook your head. “A breather. Space. Some — some time to get over my embarrassment.”
Taehyung looked confused, but you couldn’t bear to wait and extend this conversation. Twisting in place, you rushed out of there, on your way to your own dorm, this time.
Taehyung sipped on Hoseok’s cheap beer, unseeing gaze stuck on the TV as some football match played on the screen. Next to him, Seokjin and Hoseok sat with their own bottles in hand. They were, decidedly, much more aware of the game than he was.
“Gah! That was a red card, come on!” Hoseok suddenly exclaimed at the referee.
Seokjin snorted. “This referee is blind.”
“Or sold,” Hoseok grumbled.
Taehyung blinked, unable to focus on the game however hard he stared. Shaking his head, he took another gulp of the bitter liquid.
His soul had almost left his body when you'd said you needed a break. You wanting to be away from him after last night would have been his biggest nightmare come true.
But then you asked for space. To get over your embarrassment.
Why were you embarrassed? He couldn't, for the life of him, decipher that one. Did you really regret last night that bad? Had you changed your mind? Or was it something else altogether?
But what the hell could it even be, then?
Hoseok cleared his throat, drawing Taehyung's attention to the redhead. "You could try out a new painting, Tae. It'd be a nice outlet, and, y'know? They say you create your finest art when you got a heavy heart."
"Pretty sure that's not what they say, Hobi," Seokjin deadpanned.
"Something along those lines, hyung, catch my drift." Hoseok scowled at Seokjin. “Art’s supposed to take your mind off stuff, right?”
Taehyung exhaled, proceeding to chug down the rest of the drink in his bottle. "I can't," he murmured. "Angel is…" He stopped, shut his eyes and exhaled. "She's been my biggest muse ever since I met her, hyung. I can't paint when we're fighting."
Seokjin noisily exhaled, puffing his nostrils up. "Then maybe you could—ah, I don't know, invest in a different sort of art?"
Taehyung frowned at the guy in confusion. Hoseok, though, seemed to have gotten onto something. His head of flaming red hair bobbed erratically. "Yes, yes! Great idea, hyung! You should come with me to the rehearsal hall for some time, Tae. It's been ages since you've been there. It'd be a good distraction, take your mind off all this disappointment and hurt."
Taehyung clicked his tongue. "I'm not disappointed. I'm—I'm just… just hurt."
Seokjin sighed. "You mean you aren't even the slightest bit irked that she used the excuse of missing memory to evade your…well. You know." He gesticulated with a hand around the other. "You are, aren't you?"
"Not really." Taehyung frowned and shook his head. "I mean, well. yes. Of course, I would've preferred if she didn't try to evade it and just talked to me. But maybe she really can't recall anything, I'm not entirely sure. I mean, what's the difference, either way? It all boils down to the fact that she has backed off. And that is what's…" He broke off, taking in a shaky inhale. "What's hurting," he finished on an exhale.
They all went silent for a while. Seokjn hummed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You love dance and you love Hobi’s routines, so… it could be therapeutic to you. But don’t force yourself, we’ll think of something else.”
Taehyung exhaled, swiping a hand down his face. He really did love Hobi’s routines and it really had been ages since he’d been to the rehearsal hall. “No. No, I want to. I’ll join you tomorrow, Hobi hyung.” He passed the man a half smile, and got a full back. He huffed out a breath. “You guys wanna crack open something stronger than this?” he asked the two older guys, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.
Seokjin raised his hands in surrender. "I've got work, tomorrow."
But Hobi, the resident booze-man, grinned like a cheshire cat.
Your day had been hell, and your night was going to be, too.
After ignoring your calls for an hour, your best friends had texted you back telling you they were too busy to take your calls. They would have known, of course, what you’d talk about and prioritized their personal businesses above it.
You weren’t bitter about it, or anything…
Okay, you were. You were really really bitter.
Because Munchkin was at a party, trying to rope in some guy she’d had her sights on for a while. Needless to say, she was gonna be busy for the night. And Namjoon was working on some project for extra credits for his class tomorrow.
Your relationship being at the verge of splintering was, apparently, less important than a coveted hookup and extra fucking credits.
Your mother had sent you her customary checking in texts asking about your well being, and you'd made a whole hypothetical situation to ask her if temporary amnesia could be cured with some brain exercise.
Did you drink too much at that party you were going to? Are you okay?
You huffed a breath out, irritated but at the same time feeling really loved at your mother's accurate deduction of the situation. You texted her you were okay, she asked about Taehyung's well being, you said he was okay, too, and at the end she suggested you see a doctor if this felt too uneasy.
You thought about it for a while, but then realised a doctor wouldn't take you seriously.
yeah right, mom!
if docs started treating everyone with temporary amnesia on campus, he'd be dealing with nearly the entire student population
The conversation with your mother certainly failed to help in any way. You had no solution at your hands and your mind wasn't taken off it, too.
You stress-ate a pint of choco-chip icecream for dinner and watched reruns of Victorious on your laptop. You cried when Beck and Jade broke up. And then you slept with your laptop still running the show in the background.
You had a fitful night’s sleep, riddled with horrible nightmares switching between you begging Taehyung to tell you what you’d forgotten but him just crying because he was so hurt that you forgot in the first place, and Taehyung never wanting to talk to you again because he thought you were lying about forgetting your special night.
You finally sat up in your bed at close to six am. Having had enough with the mess in your head, you decided to beg your best friends to help you out, one more time.
Seventeen minutes past six of the morning saw you on a conference call with Namjoon and Munchkin.
“I went to bed at four, bitch, have some mercy—”
“And I didn’t sleep at all, I’ve been working on the project the whole night, and—”
“Guys!” you wailed. “Please help me out here! I am at my wit’s end, I can’t eat, can’t sleep, and I don’t know who else to talk to! I swear if I did, I would not be bothering you two like this!” You exhaled when they’d both quieted down. “Not that you’ve been much help, so far,” you added under your breath.
“I did not sign up for being insulted first thing in the morning!” Munchkin protested. “And Joon, what the hell is up with all your late night working sessions, lately? Don’t you get enough time during the day?”
The comment had you momentarily distracted from your own issue as you furrowed your brows. “Good point. He’s been spending more odd hours than usual at the library, too,” you said, recalling how Jackson had told you about Namjoon’s frequent nightly visits to the library.
“What? I—I do work during the day, guys,” Namjoon jumped to his defense, “but… the work’s a lot, okay? Also, almost the entirety of my Sunday went into comforting Angel. Being an economics major just eats up your time, okay? And—and I really need a couple extra credits—”
“Stop, you’re rambling,” Munchkin interrupted, sounding bored.
“And obviously lying,” you added with a shrug, even though they couldn’t see it.
“What? What? I’m not—”
“Honestly, Joon, nobody has time for your theatrics, okay? If you’re sneaking around with a girl—although I’m willing to bet my nail extensions you’re not—it’s cool. Do whatever,” Munchkin sounded half asleep, but what she said rang true with you, too.
“Absolutely. We won’t pry, and won’t judge.”
“It’s not a girl, guys, come on—”
“Already bet on it.”
“You mean it is something, then?” You squinted.
“Wait, how did this conversation go from Angel’s crisis call to a semi-intervention on me?” Namjoon protested, bringing you back to the ground.
You groaned. “Oh, yes. No, sorry, we don’t have time for diversions, right now. Help me resolve my crisis first.”
Munchkin clicked her tongue. “I still really fail to see what the big deal is? So drinking gave you amnesia like a total weirdo. Yeah, okay, it kinda sucks, but it’s not the end of the world! You two love each other! Move past this! Make new freaking memories, and get over it!”
You bit down on your lip. “I… I would have done that, eventually, but… you guys don’t know what happened last night.”
“Yeah, we do. Sort of. You left thirty seven messages in the groupchat, so we get the gist,” Namjoon reminded you.
“Okay, so you do know. So. Guys, it’s become a big deal because Taehyung has made it into one. His behaviour last night…” and you launched into a retelling of your whole encounter with Taehyung at his dorm.
For the better part of an hour, your dear best friends listened to you go on about how Taehyung seemed heartbroken because of your missing memory, and how you felt he didn’t even fully believe you when you said you didn’t remember anything. You also brought up, time and again, how this one incident was gonna end your relationship.
“Okay, okay, hold on!” Namjoon finally interrupted your rampage. “This is all rubbish!”
You stuck your bottom lip out, turning to your side in your bed. Wendy had been out the entire night, last night. You wondered what she was up to because she wasn't the type to sleep around or go to parties. Maybe she had a sleepover with some of her girlfriends. You honestly couldn’t strain your mind over this on top of everything else, so you shut your eyes.
“Firstly, Taehyung isn’t gonna break up with you because he suspects you’re lying about the memory loss. That’s just stupid and unlike him, and I’ve known him longer than you,” Namjoon continued. “Also, I still think the key to this whole issue is communicating. You need to open your mouth and ask the guy what happened last night. Don’t be demotivated by his saddened face, push through.”
“But… you know, Jungkook said to me that sometimes saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum. And I literally said the absolutely worst combination of words I could to Tae, last night! Almost made him think I was trying to break up with him. How shitty—”
“I bet he’s not even thinking about it right now. I bet my hair extensions on it,” Munchkin interrupted with a snort. “He’s probably sleeping off another hangover. Boys always end up drowning the conflicts in their lives in alcohol.”
You rolled your eyes. “As opposed to what you do? And stop betting your extensions on things.”
“But, she’s kinda not wrong, Angel,” Namjoon intervened, “you’re definitely overreacting a bit. Jungkook has hardly ever known what he’s talking about, all through his life. You’re letting his words affect you? All you can do, right now, is have a decent conversation with Tae where you hold his hand, look into his eyes and ask him to tell you what exactly happened last night.” He paused. “The night before, now, I guess, ’cause it’s morning…”
You sighed, opening your eyes to blink at Wendy’s empty bed. “I don’t know, guys… He looks so freaking shattered and disappointed every time I try to talk to him, it just feels like a slap to the face.”
“Ugh, stop thinking so much about everything,” Munchkin groaned. “And if talking to him seems like such a humongous challenge, then talk to someone you know he would have confided in.”
You sat up at that, eyes open wide. “Jin! Jin oppa! Tae shares everything with him, and he even went straight to his place after I left his dorm, too! He would know everything.”
“Now, now,” Namjoon began with a nervous lilt, “I don’t think it’s such a great idea to ask around when you could ask—”
“Shut up, Namjoon, it’s a fantastic fucking idea,” Munchkin cut him off.
“Yes. Yes, it’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, checking the time. “It’s past eight, he would’ve left for the restaurant. I can make it after my Scriptwriting class and catch him during his lunch hour! Thank you, guys, thank you, so much!”
“Great to be of service. Now let me go back to sleep, I’m skipping all my classes today,” Munchkin muttered into the phone.
“For the record, I still don’t think it’s such a great idea—”
“Nobody cares, Namjoon, go back to sleep. You have a boring-as-fuck class in less than two hours.” With that, Munchkin disconnected your three-way call.
You tossed your phone to the side and laid back on your bed. This could actually work out. You could ask Jin to fill you in on what’s been going on in Taehyung’s head, and then go talk to your boyfriend with full preparation.
Noon couldn’t come sooner.
Jin’s face was pretty expressionless when he got into his usual lunch booth and met your eyes instead of his girlfriend’s. He didn’t look surprised, at all. He literally didn’t even blink, just gave you a once over and reached for his bag to fetch his lunch out. That should have been your warning sign, but blinded by your own selfish goal, you missed it.
“Oppa, hello,” you respectfully greeted him, wringing your hands in your lap. “I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced, but I wasn’t sure you’d be welcoming if I told you beforehand. You know why.” You looked down at the table, at Jin’s lunch of some salad and a smoothie. “I—I think you do, at least.”
You waited for Jin to say something, but he simply kept chewing. His eyes looked at you so blankly, he almost seemed to be looking through you. This was nothing like the Jin you knew. Either he was in a really disturbed state of mind, or he was really mad at you for what happened between you and Taehyung.
You suspected it was the latter.
“Um,” you couldn’t find the right words to say. “I—I tried talking to Tae about this, but he gets really upset and unbelieving and I… I lose courage.” You swallowed. You were losing courage now, too. “So—so, oppa, did he… Taehyung, he… what did he say about last night?” You bit your tongue. “I mean the night before. Hobi—Hobi oppa’s party’s night.” You focussed your gaze at your sweaty hands resting in your lap. “I drank God knows what combination of alcohol, and…and can’t seem to recall the events that followed us leaving the party. Taehyung is really worked up about it all, so…” You looked up to meet Jin’s flat stare. “Will you tell me what happened that night? What—what Taehyung’s been so worried about?”
Jin sipped at his smoothie, smacked his lips, and had just opened his mouth to say something, when a familiar voice rained down on the two of you from the side. “Well, this is fabulous!”
You jumped, snapping your head to the side to see Jin’s girlfriend standing close to your booth in her waitress outfit, lunchbox in hand and rage on her face.
“So, now you have engagements during lunch, too. Great. Just great.”
“Unnie, I…” You trailed off as the woman silenced you with a sharp glare. Tossing another one at her boyfriend, she twisted on her heels and left the break room. “I… what did I do wrong? She—she did recognize me, right?” you nervously asked the stoic wall sitting before you.
“Taehyung is upset because you’ve been hiding behind the excuse of this fictitious memory loss—that doesn’t happen in real life, mind you—to get out of the promise you made to him while drunk,” Jin told you in a slightly high pitched, obviously enraged, and nearly unrecognisable voce.
You gaped at him. “I really do not remember, oppa! Why would I want to forget about my first…” You slowly came to a halt as it hit you. “Wait, what did you say? The promise I made to him? What promise?” you rasped, bewildered.
Jin scowled at you. "What first time were you going to speak of? I don’t know about the intimate details of your relationship, and I don't want to, because that isn’t material here.” You ducked your head as your cheeks pinked. “You two drunkards were getting all emotional about loving each other a lot and wanting to stay together forever, so Tae proposed the idea of sealing it with a ring.”
You gasped. “I—a promise ring?”
“Mm hmm,” Jin hummed with pursed lips. “And then, when you got sober and realised you shouldn't have made that commitment in a haste, you ran out on him, instead of telling him straight up. And since then you’ve been confusing him with mixed clues instead of properly talking to him about what you want.” Jin’s jaw was set. “Why can’t you just have a proper talk, huh? Why do you women have to be so mysterious and expectant about things? Use your freaking words, for one damn time in your life! Men can’t get into your head to guess shit! Say it, and maybe we’ll be able to resolve it! Use words to describe what you actually want, and maybe I'd be able to get it done!”
Jin was breathing hard, his eyes were blown wide and a few veins in his forehead looked close to popping. You swallowed, feeling nervous, confused, dumbstruck and a tad bit scared for your life, at the same time. “Uh… you?”
Jin blinked, and the hazy, mad look lifted from his gaze. His lips parted and he sighed very noisily. “No, not I. It’s just… I started to project my personal issues onto you. Sorry about that, kid.” He forwarded a hand to pat your shoulder in apology. “You got what you came here for, though, right?”
“I… yeah, I guess. Although…” I cannot believe that that is what I forgot. No wonder Taehyung looked so downtrodden.
Gosh, you were a fool!
“Thank you so much, oppa!” you announced to Jin, getting up with a new spring to your steps. “I’ll get going, now.”
You bounded out of the restaurant. You literally could not believe what you’d just learned. Smacking a palm against your face, you shook your head at yourself.
You concentrated, again, this time to recall conversations from last night instead of actions. And surprisingly enough, some of the fog cleared away as you started recalling things…
…you are beyond toasted in this shimmery polyester top and leather shorts you’d worn as your costume. The minute you step into Taehyung’s room, you are scrambling to get out of them.
Your boyfriend chuckles as he locks the door after himself. “You’re more than welcome to take it off, and more, babe.”
Your mind has gotten kind of hazier than you’re used to. But knowing how Tae always makes fun of you for being a lightweight — which you’re really really not, Tae just holds his liquor better than you do — you avoid bringing up your state of mind. You laugh at his teasing remark.
Within seconds, you have thrown off your top and shorts, and are snuggled between Taehyung’s covers. He himself has stripped down to his boxers. You give a lazy smile as your eyes rove his torso. “What happened to wearing pajamas when we cuddled?” you tease, sleepily.
Taehyung gets in bed next to you, rolling over to pull you to his chest. He smirks down at you, complete with his vampire makeup. “Too balmy tonight. And too tired to find pajamas.”
You giggle, burrowing yourself into the warm, soft skin of his chest. You poke a finger into his pectoral muscle.
“Ow!” he yelps.
“You’re muscly, babe. Those oversized clothes hide you well,” you observe, licking your lips as your hands smooth over his chest and stomach.
“And you’re sexy,” he responds in a rasp, eyes stuck on the cleavage exposed by your bra. “Do you usually sleep with this on?” he asks, snapping the strap against your shoulder.
You wince, shaking your head. “It’s too hot to wear a shirt, so…”
Taehyung pulls you in closer, staring deep into your eyes. “Do you trust me?”
Despite all the ridiculous makeup, your heart skips a beat at his intense stare. You nod.
His hands slide behind you to unhook your bra. You gasp when the clasp is released. “Relax, baby. It’s just me,” Taehyung whispers to you in a soothing voice. “I won’t even look if you ask me to. You know that, right?”
You do. But you also do. Want him to look, and more. As the garment is pulled away from your body, slowly, Taehyung’s eyes remain stuck to yours. Your own water at the love, admiration and respect you feel for him in the moment. Actually, not just in the moment. Always.
A sob escapes your lips. You rush to wrap yourself in his arms, again. “Baby?” he sounds worried. “What—what happened, sweetheart?”
“I just love you a lot, Tae,” you speak into his skin in a nasally, snot-filled voice. “A lot. You’re my most precious gemstone in the whole world. Never leave me, baby. Never ever.”
Taehyung presses a multitude of kisses to the crown of your head, and you feel wetness seep into your shoulder when he nuzzles your nape. “I love you too, my babylove. And I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”
“Promise?” you mumble. “This is forever?”
You feel him nod against you. “Forever, baby. I promise.” He pulls away from you, eyes still on your face as he wipes away your tears and the obviously ruined makeup if his own is anything to go by. “Do you want to seal it? With a promise ring?”
You gasp. This is the stuff from teenage romance novels that you’ve always dreamed of. “I… Yes! Yes, Tae, oh my God, yes, yes, please yes!” you happily chant, grabbing both his hands and wringing them around as you roll in the bed.
Taehyung chuckles, calming you down by pulling you in for a kiss. The familiar heavenly feel of his pillowy lips has you quieting down and kissing him back. His palm slowly travels up the curve of your waist to curl around the side of your breast. Your breath hitches.
Taehyung brushes his tongue against your lower lip, and pulls back. “Is this okay?” he asks, giving a slight squeeze.
You almost squeak at the sensation, rapidly nodding your head like a dummy. Smiling, he captures your lips again and massages his palm over the peak of your breast, squeezing when you moan into his mouth. You lose yourself in his taste and touch.
His lips travel lower to your jaw, peppering kisses on their way. You release a sigh of bliss, hands carding through his hair. His teeth scrape over your collarbone, quickly latching onto the skin of your neck. You cannot hold back the whine that leaves you, sensations travelling down to the bottom of your stomach.
“Mine,” he breathes into your skin, sponging kisses over the bite he has just left. “Only mine.”
“Only yours, baby,” you breathe out, rolling on your back as he presses his face against your sternum.
“You’ve made me the happiest man, bub,” he breathes onto your chest, a finger drawing patterns around your navel as he cuddles into you. “I’ll get you that ring and prove myself to be the best boyfriend, in the world. I’ll love you more than you ever thought was possible.”
Tears trickle down your eyes at his words. “And I’m gonna be the best girlfriend in the world to you, baby. You’re my dream come true. My real life prince charming.”
He doesn't say anything for a while, just hugs you tighter. His lips feathers soft kisses to the tops of your breasts, and a hand plays with imaginary patterns on your stomach. And then you feel his head getting heavier. You want to ask him if he’s sleepy, but you cannot even open your eyes with how heavy they’ve gotten. You breathe out as he holds you closer, and slowly drift into sleep...
Your eyes watered as the scenes played out in your head, everything you’d been unable to recall gradually coming back. You realised you’d been going about it the wrong way, trying to recall your passionate moments, when it had all been an extremely emotional affair.
You bit your lip as you called Taheyung’s cellphone. You were gonna beg for his forgiveness and then kiss him silly. You loved this boy so much, oh God.
The phone was picked up after three rings. “Hi, kiddo!”
You blinked at the unexpected voice and greeting, but then recognised it to be Hobi’s. Oh how you wished you could yell at the guy for making your life miserable by mixing drinks at his damn party. You exhaled, though, and tried to clear your head. “Hobi oppa, hey. Where’s Tae?”
“At the Kappa rehearsal hall with me!” Hobi cheerfully told you. “We’re doing a k-pop routine today. You know how he gets with those, right? He’s been practising this one move that he can’t get right for so long, ugh. Do you need a message conveyed?”
You frowned to yourself. It had been a while since Taehyung visited the rehearsal halls. Was he trying to distract himself from the disaster you’d brewed up for him? Very likely. “No, no, I’m gonna…” You stopped yourself. Maybe an element of surprise would work better. “I’ll call later, when he’s done,” you said, instead, already mapping a way down to the university campus and the rehearsal hall as you hailed a cab.
You received Hobi’s text on your way, stating that they were all leaving for the ice cream parlor opposite the building and that you may contact Taehyung now if you wanted to. You were kind of grateful they’d all left the rehearsal hall. You weren’t sure how you’d call Taehyung aside in an echoing hall with mirrors and Hobi’s dance team. And what would you do if he refused you? You weren’t prepared for that kind of humiliation. An ice cream shop, you could do.
On reaching your destination, you exited the cab, determined. You looked up at the striking capital K embossed in gold atop the Kappa rehearsal hall. Then you turned to look across the street and spotted a quaint, cosy looking ice cream parlour painted in beautiful pastels. You crossed the road with hurried steps.
You took a deep breath in. You were gonna apologise your butt off, and then kiss him in the middle of this very place if you had to. God, you felt so guilty! You were gonna make this right.
As you pushed the door open, the entry bell tolled, alerting the girl behind the cash counter of your presence. As she flashed you a bright smile, you realised she looked familiar. She had a really kind face. Maybe you’d seen her around the campus, maybe she was one of Wendy’s friends.
You stepped in and returned her greeting with a small smile of your own. Then you looked around to spot Taehyung and Hobi’s group. Hobi caught your eye first, standing out with his fiery red hair.
You walked over. “Hey… everyone,” you greeted the table, awaiting Hobi’s reaction and hoping he’d be kinder than Jin. Although half of Jin’s ire seemed to have come from his personal troubles which you really had known nothing about beforehand. You smiled when Hobi’s surprised eyes met yours. “Hi.”
“Oh! Hey, kid!” Hobi greeted you with a huge grin, easing your worries. “You, uh, you came here, whoa!”
You gave a bashful shrug, awkward because you didn’t recognise anyone other than Hobi on the table.
And then you did a double take at the table. You didn’t recognise anyone, indeed! Where was Taehyung?
Hobi noticed your searching eyes. “Oh, Tae went back to the hall, he’d left his phone. He’ll be back in five.”
You exhaled. That wouldn’t do. “I’ll catch him back there, no problem.”
Hobi shrugged his shoulders, without question. “He’d be in hall G.”
Nodding him a quick thanks, you took off, leaving the ice cream shop, and crossed the road back to the rehearsal hall. As you stepped foot onto the linoleum floor of your university's most coveted rehearsal hall, you realized you’d never been here before. Past the revolving gates, you encountered a small reception area where you had to show your college ID to get yourself checked in.
When the man passed your ID back to you over the counter, you made your way down the corridor which was lined by various gates that were numbered alphabetically. These were probably the individual halls. The corridor, you noticed, ran quite long. God, how huge was this place?
On reaching the door marked with a G, you stopped. The door wasn’t fully shut like all the others you’d walked past, right now.
You gave it a slight push, peeking in. Taehyung’s shapely butt greeted you as the guy leant over on the floor, rummaging around for something. Probably his phone. You gaped at the sight for a few extended seconds, before realising how you were being a creep.
You cleared your throat and gave the door a firmer push, opening it wide enough for you to step through. Taehyung’s wide eyes met yours in the mirrored wall he was sat before. You sucked in a sharp breath as his attractiveness smacked you in the face, yet again. Dressed in plain black joggers and a loose fitted t-shirt, he should have had nothing on your white colored high waisted shorts and pale blue button up, and yet he looked like a freaking Greek God, while you...well. You really just looked like a potato trying to play dress-up in front of this guy, swear to God.
He straightened up, running a hand through his dark hair, his eyes following your movements through the mirror as you stepped in. His gaze seemed apprehensive and he really didn’t seem to be in the mood to speak, anytime soon. “Hi,” you whispered through a scratchy throat.
Taehyung’s eyes travelled down your body, making you blush from the inside out as they lingered on your legs. “Hey,” he finally said, audibly exhaling as he sat down, this time, to rummage through some towels and water bottles lying on the floor next to the wall length mirror. “You done with your breather, overnight, then? Can you give me a ring? I can’t find my phone.”
You bit your lip at his caustic tone and taunt. And also at the lack of an address. No babe, no angel? You’d really hurt him. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you quickly said, holding back the flood that was filling up your heart as you fished your phone out from your pocket.
The buzz of a cellphone’s vibration filled up around you. Taehyung bounced back to his feet, attentively kicking off a soaked towel, and there, on the floor, you saw his phone. You disconnected the call as he picked the device up. “Thank you,” he mumbled, breaking your heart with the formality and the repetitive lack of address.
He walked up to you on careful steps, eyes scanning your face as if accessing something. You breathed in. “Tae, can we talk?”
His eyebrows did a thing where one of them rose and the other lowered, very slightly. You nearly creamed your panties. “Depends,” he gruffly said, looking away to inspect his phone. “Are you gonna run off in the middle of it, again?”
You winced, ducking your head in shame. “No. No, absolutely not. Never again, I promise,” you mumbled. You looked up and caught a brief glimpse of his shattered expressions before he pulled on his mask of indifference mingled with slight bother. You felt like shit. “I’m so so so sorry, baby,” you said without any ado. “I acted like a complete idiot and—and really hurt you.”
Taehyug’s whole body seemed to deflate. With his lips pursed and eyes shut, he shook his head. “That you did, babe. That you did.”
You clamped your lower lip between your teeth. “Forgive me? Please?” you breathed out in a really desperate voice, ready to beg on your knees if you had to.
Taehyung opened his eyes with a tired sounding, noisy exhale. “It’s… well, of course, I’ll forgive you, Angel. You’re the love of my life,” he said with a small smile while his eyes still emanated immense sadness. He looked so heartbroken and lost that you just wanted to give him a tight hug. “But, baby. Why? Why did you go through all this trouble of faking memory loss? You ran out on me twice within twelve hours, you know. It hurt like a bitch that you couldn’t just talk to me about wanting to back out. I would’ve understood, baby. You were drunk and emotional, and I—”
You gasped when it hit you. Faking memory loss? Wanting to back out? Oh no. “Tae!” you interrupted him, stepping forth to put both your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to splay them and push them into his toned flesh. “You’ve still got it wrong. I didn’t fake any memory loss, baby. I genuinely did not remember. I promise. I didn’t lie.”
Taehyung frowned, looking confused. “What? But…why did you leave like that in the morning, then?” he asked in a soft voice, looking vulnerable as his hands came up to loop around your wrists.
Your skin as well as your heart warmed at his familiar touch, and this time you did splay your fingers out a bit on his pectorals. “I…” You felt your cheeks and ears heating up when you realized you’d have to actually tell him what you’d assumed you’d forgotten. “Um, Tae, we—uh, we were nearly naked when we woke up, you remember?”
Despite the situation, a corner of his lips ticked up and his hands left your wrists to wrap around your waist. “Uh huh, vividly. What of it?”
You felt the heat climb down your ears, to your neck. You looked down at his beautiful collarbones to avoid the intensity his eyes suddenly shone with. “Well, it — it made me think that maybe, you know… stuff might have happened between us. Um, you know…?”
When you felt his hold slacken, you looked up to find Taehyung gaping at you with his jaw dropped really far down and eyes as round as golf balls. “You thought we had sex?” he squeaked, face contorting in horror. “No…you thought you forgot that we had sex,” he corrected himself, horror growing on his face as you pursed your lips in silent acquiescence.
“I felt horribly embarrassed,” you quietly confessed, making his grip on you tighten again. “Our first sexual encounter was — well, is going to be something I remember and cherish for the rest of my life. I hated myself for blanking out on it.”
“But you could’ve asked me!” he desperately said, shaking his head as if in disbelief.
“Yeah, about that.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I kinda did, but somebody just gave me suggestive glances and confuddling freaking words that concreted my doubt of us having had sex!”
Taehyung grimaced. “Yeah, I was tryna tease, but it came back to bite me in the butt.”
You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle, sliding your palms past his shoulders to grip his neck.
“As it stands, I’m sorry, too.” He looked at you with parted lips and big, innocent eyes. “I shouldn’t have doubted you like that.”
You looked in his now regretful eyes with love bubbling in your chest. “How could you ever think I would wanna back out, baby?” you whispered, leaning in close enough to taste his favorite strawberry milkshake on his breath. “You really are my most precious gemstone in the whole world, Tae,” you relayed your words from that night, making his eyes widen. “My dream come true. My real life prince charm—”
With a growl Taehyung captured your lips in his. You melted in his embrace, nails digging into the back of his neck as you drank your fill of him. Your lips moved in sync, the most natural rhythm in the world to you. You had missed this, missed him so much, in just a day. You really couldn’t live without this boy. He was your whole world.
His tongue swiped past the seams of your lips to delve deeper, and you allowed him entry with a deep moan, going lax in his arms as he plundered your mouth. You felt him move you around, and then a cold surface was pressing into your back. Taehyung sidled up to you, his planes molding smoothly into your curves. You sighed into his mouth, tasting him to the fullest as you ran your own tongue over the ridge of his upper teeth. His chest vibrated with a groan, making you shiver.
You closed your teeth around his lower lip and sucked, making him gasp and push against you harder. His own teeth scraped against your upper lip. Goosebumps spread all over your body.
His arms left your waist to pull at your own, slowly travelling down your shoulders, to encircle your wrists and pin them next to your head. He pulled away with a heaving chest, and you gasped in a large breath. Your eyes fluttered open.
He looked good enough to eat with his eyes shuttered, dark hair brushing his miles long lashes, and lips cherry red with your kisses. “I love you so so much, my babylove,” he whispered, strawberry scented breath washing over your face.
You inhaled his essence. Your eyes watered at the love reflected in his own. “I love you, too, Tae. I love you forever.”
Pinned between him and, you could now tell, the mirror, your heartbeat quickened when he licked his lips. Without another word, he leant down to sponge open mouthed kisses down your neck.
“Tae,” you breathed out, “we’re in...publi—ah!” you broke on a gasp when he licked a strip up to your jaw.
Your eyelashes fluttered as he came back up to look into your eyes with his own darkened in lust. “You didn’t cover the marks, did you?”
Your breathing almost stopped at his deep octave. Nearly trembling in his grasp, you shook your head. “I w—w—wore a shirt to… hide ’em,” you managed to breath out, going insane under his heated stare.
He let go of your arms to unbutton the collar of your shirt. You looped your fingers through the waistband of his joggers, chewing on your lower lip when he undid another button. And another. And then another. “You look really fucking sexy today, by the way,” he grumbled into your neck, leaning in to lave his tongue over the deep purple marks he’d left there. “Love the shorts.”
You bit back a whimper when his teeth scraped against the flesh just beneath your collarbone.
“I happen to remember another mark,” he spoke into your skin, nose dragging down your sternum and sinking into your cleavage. One of his fingers came up to drag against the top seam of your bra. In a swift motion, he scooped the cup down to free your right boob. One of his fingers came up to encircle your nipple, making it peak immediately. Humming in satisfaction, he moved the shapely digit up to rub against the mark you remembered he’d left there. “Would you look at that.” His voice was now a growl, hot breath warming the skin of your breast as he spoke. “My baby looks so pretty.”
That was your last warning before Taehyung was engulfing your peak into his mouth. You stopped breathing. Frozen in place, your thighs tingling at the sensation and your core clenching in anticipation, a breathless heave left you when his tongue flicked against the pebbled nipple. You desperately clutched onto him for dear life, one hand grabbing hold of his shirt at the waist and the other coming up to grip a tuft of his hair. “Tae...hyung,” you whined, eyes screwed shut as he sucked hard.
He let go of your boob with a pop, only to tease his mark with kitten licks. You were gonna die.
One of his hands glided over one of your thighs, hooking under your knee to lift your leg up and slot himself further into you. Your eyes flew open when you felt the stiffness between his legs. He felt hard. And he felt huge. Gulping, you tugged at his hair to pull him away. He separated from you with dazed eyes, blinking rapidly as if to focus on your face as he breathed through his wet, rosy, parted lips.
Sexy fucking beast.
As you looked into his crazed eyes, he pressed harder against you, pushing his length against the crotch of your shorts. You whimpered, your fists tightening on him when the zipper of your shorts bumped into your clit. Taehyung’s eyes lit up with interest. He repeated the motion. You threw your head back, giving up when he picked up pace, rubbing against you with his own breathing laboured.
Sweat beaded your forehead, and his hand came up to support the back of your neck, palm of the other still holding up your leg to provide him with the required leverage. You let out a guttural moan when he leant in to lick at your nipple with the flat of his tongue. “Tae…” you sighed, attempting to collect some semblance of your sanity, but failing.
Taehyung sped up, almost rutting against you, and you rolled your hips against his to match the pace. His mouth latched onto your neck, shooting off sparks down to your core and fueling the fire bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were about to combust. “My baby,” he grumbled into your ear, scraping his teeth against the flesh behind it. Your entire body shuddered. “Only mine,” he growled again.
You nodded blindly, gasping when he bit down on your flesh. His hand suddenly left your neck to brush down your front, tweaking your nipple, and settled onto the waistband of your shorts. His eyes met yours through the haze of lust you two were choking on, and you gave him a nod of consent. He deftly unbuttoned the garment, hips not ceasing for a moment as his fingers glided down your abdomen.
The first contact his fingers made with your clit was explosive. Your back arched off the wall, mouth falling open on a silent scream. He nudged against your bundle of nerves twice, before moving down your wetness to sink two of his gorgeously slender fingers into you. You had been flooding your panties since the moment your eyes met. Both his fingers slid right in. His hips stuttered to a halt, lips falling open on a gasp. Your hand left his head to clutch at his shoulder, pulling him in further when he let go of your knee.
“You are soaking, baby,” he breathed, awe and surprise spilling off his throaty timbre. His fingers curved in you, rubbing against that spot inside of you that had taken you months to locate properly. He did it in under five seconds, and now he was playing you like a violin. You were gonna die!!! Your eyes fell shut again. His fingers were merciless, massaging your insides and pushing against your warmth. “Yes, you like that? Do you like that baby, hm?”
You managed a broken nod, gasps layering on one on top of the other. “T—Tae…Tae…”
“Come on, my love. Let go,” he whispered, swiping his tongue over your trembling lips before latching onto them.
A stroke of thumb against your clit, and you fell apart with a vibrating groan into his mouth. The knot tightening in your stomach suddenly expanded into a tsunami of sensations that travelled down to every single nerve ending in your body. Your walls clenched around his fingers as waves over waves of blinding, white pleasure crashed into you. Your legs jittered beneath you, spasming beyond your control.
It took you longer than a few seconds to come back to the land of living. You were not used to this.
You opened your eyes excruciatingly slow, as if waking up from unconsciousness. But when you did, Taehyung had already extracted his hand back from you, righted your bra, buttoned up both of your garments, and was now licking your wetness off his fingers with his eyes shut. The sight made you thump back against the wall, jolting his hand that was holding onto your waist and making him open his eyes in surprise.
You looked at him from under your lashes, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “What…” you panted, “the hell…”
Taehyung had a starved look in his eyes when he met yours that, despite just having had the best orgasm of your entire life, made you wanna throw him on his back and ride him to the high heavens. “I take it you liked that,” he murmured, cradling your waist in his arms.
“Liked it? Are you insane?” you scoffed. “Taehyung, I…” you heaved a breath out, picking up your leaden arms to rest against his shoulders. “I couldn’t breathe. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable and at the same time protected.
Taehyung, contrary to your expectations, gave you a sincere smile instead of the smirk you’d envisioned. “Makes me the happiest man. I love you so much, you know?”
You giggled, pulling your lips in. “I love you, too, you insanely insanely sexy man,” you teased, making him scrunch up his nose in embarrassment. Something poked your thigh when you shuffled closer to him, and you gasped. “Babe, what about you… your… um.” Your wide eyes pointed down at his nearly fully erect member.
Taehyung gave a laugh. “Well, we can always go back to the dorms and take care of it together,” he suggested, making your cheeks flame up and your battered pussy reignite in excitement. “I was dry humping you like a thirteen-year-old. Couldn’t let our first sexual encounter be about that.”
“You were lucid enough to think about all that?” you asked him, genuinely curious.
“No, that was a lie.” Taehyung gave you a bashful shake of head. “I was a goner, babe. I just…” His tongue came out to lick at his lower lip. “I just had this sudden urge to feel you. Couldn’t control it.”
You shakily exhaled. “Your fingers are amazing. No, you are amazing,” you mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. You suddenly pulled back with your eyes wide. You looked around the hall, frenetically. “Wait, this place doesn’t have cameras, does it?”
Taehyung laughed with his lips pursed. “Of course not, darling. Who do you think I am?”
“A really sexy guy who missed his girlfriend?” you teased again, and this time, he kissed you in retaliation.
Pulling away, he looked at you with stars in his eyes. “Wait,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket for something.
You had a guess what it could be.
Pulling out a plastic case that obviously housed a ring, Taehyung sucked in his lower lip as he looked at you. Pinning you against the mirror, he popped the box open between your faces. Your eyes left his to look at the ring — a simple, silver band with a dainty knot embossed on it. Your eyes watered.
“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled through a clogged throat.
“My angel, my other half, the love of my life,” Taehyung whispered, paying no heed to the tear that travelled down his cheek, “do you promise to be mine forever?”
You sobbed. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you nodded, frantically. “Yes. Yes, I promise. I promise to be yours forever.”
He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Sobs wracked the two of you as you hopped into his arms, tucking your legs around his waist when he lifted you off the floor. “I love you so much, oh baby,” he sobbed into your neck.
“I love you, too, my love, I love you, too.”
Fifteen minutes later, after crying for a while, admiring how cute the ring looked on your hand, ensuring that Taehyung wasn’t even the slightest bit hard, and nearly leaving his phone behind again, the two of you exited rehearsal hall with your entwined hands swinging between you.
“So,” Taehyung suddenly commented, a sly smirk on his face. “Bet you can’t get amnesia about coming for me in Hobi hyung’s rehearsal hall, huh? Even if you tried? Mission accomplished!”
You gasped, raining down smacks on him right there, on the side of the road. He was gonna tease you about your wrong interpretation of that night, forever, it seemed.
“Hey, I was kidding!” Taehyung exclaimed, sheltering himself with his arms. “Let’s go ask hyung what he mixed with the vodka that gave you amnesia in the first place!”
You stopped with your attack. That seemed like a great idea. You were dying to ask the man that, yourself. “Let’s.”
As you two walked back to the ice cream shop, your ring glinted, reflecting sunlight. You looked at Taehyung who was grinning to himself.
You were the happiest, today, that you had ever been in your life.
note: angst by the virtue of miscommunication is my fav sort of angst to write. in the original draft, this story was to end when OC got back to Tae's dorm to sort things out, but then my mind said naAAHHH. mORE ANGST!!! lmao, anyways. thank you for reading! jin's story should be up next, if all goes according to plan. wait around~ 😘💕
© bangtae-sohotddaeng | 2021
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12 DAYS OF NAMJOON | #CYPHERNET
↠ Day 4: Favorite Namjoon traits/habits!
Nose scrunch (boink!)
Visiting art museums (aka Namjooning)
His lil dance
His precious eye smile (aka being the ultimate comfort person)
↠ do not copy/repost
↠ all pictures are edited by me
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i still wonder
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s u f f e r i n g
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hush (m) jjk
pairing; jungkook x reader
genre; established relationship, college au.
warning; public indecency, exhibitionism, exhibition kink, tit sucking, jungkook loves your tits, fingering, degradation, pwp really.
word count; 2598
➜ when you invited your boyfriend to a study date at the library on a Friday night, studying was your only intention. Of course, Jungkook always had a knack of ruining your plans.
a/n; now that this is out of the wayy, i will now be working on my money matters prequel! i hope you look forward to that one!
"For the last time, kook," you discreetly pushed off his arm around your torso, hand comfortably purchased on your clothed breast. "I called you here to study with me, not mess around."
He only let out a small airy grunt in reply, not caring about a single word you just said. The wooden legs of the chair he was situated on dragged across the gray carpeted floor as he moved closer to you, once again sliding his arm around your body and fixating his hand back to its previous position.
"J-jungkook..." You whined as you felt his slender fingers gently knead at your mound, even with a bra on, he could sense how hard your nipple has become at his lingering touch. The words that tumbled out your mouth said no but your body language says otherwise. The blunt edges of your teeth painfully dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip while you tried your best to suppress the needy moans wanting to escape.
"Tell me to stop." A hint of challenge lacing his tone with the slight curve of his lips. He knew how much he affected you; how his honey slicked voice crawled under your skin and shot straight to your core.
Exhibitionism wasn't on top of your list but it was on his.
Although no matter how much he wanted to do bad things to you under the prying and watchful eyes of those around you, your consent has always been and always will be his priority.
"Tell me to stop and I'll stop." jungkook was growing impatient by the second, you can tell by how hard he was squeezing at your breast.
"D-dont--" you faintly mouthed, burying your face in the curve of his neck. His musky scent overpowering your senses and doubling the wetness forming between your legs. "s-stop..."
"Fuck" he cursed under his breath, you were too fucking good for him. He temporarily released his grip on you and plotted his next move.
At this point, the only thing you could do is hope your mouth stays close like your eyes.
You felt the hem of your skirt hitch up as his right hand roamed the expanse of your quivering thighs. Just as you were about to close it shut, he jammed his hand in between them.
"I don't think so, baby." It came out as a whisper and got you squirming in your seat. He scanned the premises of the facility, the number of people inside could be counted with the fingers on his hand. It was pretty empty considering that it was a Friday night, most college students would rather hang out at a party than study in library.
In the eyes of an outsider, the two of you only looked like a normal couple. A loving boyfriend letting his exhausted girlfriend take a nap on his shoulder. How sweet.
What they don't know won't kill them and if they find out, well, it'll only rile him up more.
At the back of your mind, you thank god that you chose a spot facing the wall. If you didn't, the person sitting on the table parallel to yours would have a front row seat to your dripping pussy.
"You like that?" Jungkook's hand found its way to your clothed core, trailing the pad of his fore and middle finger over the newly moistened patch. "God, you're always so fucking wet for me, y/n."
The heat and wetness of your aroused cunt have gotten to him, a noticeable tent forming at the crotch area of his sweatpants. He quickly grasped your hand and pressed it against his growing erection.
You shut your eyes even tighter and braced yourself for what was about to come next when he began pushing your underwear to the side.
A breathless whimper was all you can utter at the sensation of sudden intrusion, his middle finger shoved inside your hole down to the last knuckle.
"Always so tight, you dirty slut. Clenching around my finger like vice grips."All his words came out as a mumble, barely audible, still it sent shockwaves of electricity throughout your entire body. Nobody does it like him, only jungkook has got this much control and power over you.
"Be good a girl for me and unbutton your shirt, I want to suck on those perky nipples of yours."
Somehow your breath gets caught up in your throat, and you're suddenly gasping for air. How can his presence be so suffocating and enticing at the same time like you're drowning in a deadly sea with a lifeboat next to you but you decided you’d rather die and be enveloped by the waters.
You do as you're told, unbuttoning your blouse half way through just enough for your boobs to poke out.
"Damn," Jungkook kissed your forehead, giving you ample time to hold your head steady after leaning on him for a while.
He then laid his head cradled by his arm on the surface of the table, his face conveniently positioned in front of your chest. With his same hand, he hooked a finger under the front band of your bra and tugged it downwards. Your plump breast bounced deliciously against the force and you can see the way his pupil blew up with lust and fervor.
"Will never get tired of these." Jungkook confessed, dipping his head closer and taking in one pert nipple in his mouth. Slowly and surely, he was taking time sucking at your sensitive nub. His idle hand took note of the nipple he physically couldn't reach with his mouth and did its purpose. Pinching and tweaking.
The wet feeling of his mouth, tongue and fingers on your burning skin had you bucking your hips into his stagnant finger. Whining and yearning for any sort of friction.
"Oh," he smiled while still latched onto your nipple, "I'm sorry, I forgot." He sunk his teeth into your hardened bud; the ardent sting has got you curling your toes inside your shoes and hands gripping at the edge of your seat.
"They don't call you golden tits for nothing," he proudly boasts, not his fault that his girl was one of the hottest chicks in the entire university.
He slid another finger in you, pumping it at a leisurely pace while his hot mouth was still connected to your breast. Lapping and nipping at the bud and the skin around it, eliciting goosebumps to emerge on every square inch of your body.
"Yes?" He cooed, slightly tilting his head up and peppered your collarbone with kisses. Occasionally stopping and sucking at a certain spot until a purple bruise blooms.
You deduced Jungkook was certainly taking his time. His digits stroked your aching walls at an excruciatingly timid pace, thumb not even meeting your clit once. At this point getting caught was the least of your worries, the only goal you wanted to achieve was to come.
"Please, please, please..." You lowered your head and rested your burning forehead against his cheek while he continued marking your unmarred skin. "I w-want to cum,”
You almost choked on your own spit as you fought the sob crawl from your throat when he shoved his digits deeper into you, the tip of his finger caressing the rough spot inside your sex. Your back arched on the backrest of your chair and you held your head from falling back too far.
“Hmm?” his hooded gaze stared at your face inches away from his, a recognizable grimace inscribed on it. Your brows furrowed, almost meeting at the center of your face; eyes shuttered, scantily masking the ache you were feeling; cheeks flushed hot, dusted with a carmine tinge. Your lips trembled, even when set in a thin line. Jungkook knows this ‘face’ of yours all too well, he’s well aware of what he needs to do.
“Please…” this was too much, you could feel every muscle in your body tense up and knot to the point where it started to hurt. Your hands shook uncontrollably when you clutched onto Jungkook’s shoulder, nails digging into his jacket, pleading, begging.
“Jungkook…” Tears began gathering at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill if you were still denied of your craved orgasm.
“Y/n,” You opened your eyes only to see Jungkook staring intently at the distraught mess you’ve become. “Hush.” With a lecherous smirk etched on his pink lips and an amorous glint in his deep-set brown eyes.
His wrist snapped and his calloused fingers recklessly propelled into the deepest depth of your pussy. The clogs in the pit of your stomach finally began turning, and you felt your strained shoulders loosen up as he continued to assault your starving cunt with his straight jabs.
You steadied your breathing as best as you could and carefully observed those around you. Thankfully they were still busy minding their own business to notice yours. You leaned back in your seat and angled your hips so that your boyfriend’s fingers can sharpen its thrust into you. A relieved and blissful sigh escaped your lips as you revelled at the new and exhilarating emotion this was bringing you.
“Such a needy slut.” Jungkook chuckled, watching his digits get sucked in by your narrow cavern and every time he pulled out, it got even more coated with your slick juices. He suddenly pulled out completely, making you clench painfully around nothing and you wail a little too loud. Your hands came flying straight to cover your mouth.
Jungkook’s clacked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, eyes piercing through yours “If we get caught, you won’t be able to cum, understand?” He inserted his two fingers drenched with your essence inside his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on it until it was bone dry, releasing it with a lewd pop. “Now, be a good slut and shut that dirty mouth of yours or else.” You know Jungkook well enough to know what me means with ‘or else.’ He’d have no trouble depriving you of your orgasm and walking out on you this instance if you commit even the slightest mistake.
You obediently nodded without hesitation.
“Good girl.” He gently stroked your tear stained cheeks with his thumb and placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose. “Now,” This time he advanced three fingers past your dribbling folds and the stretch is indescribable, divine even. The way his long digits mercilessly scissored inside you, going against the natural reflex of your walls to constrict them has got you soaring near your anticipated high.
“Fuck,” he groaned at the way your balmy velvet walls wrapped around him perfectly. “You’re even tighter than before, fuck.” He imagined his dick in place of his fingers being hugged and milked by your incredible pussy for all it's got. The mere thought of him pounding into you made him harder. Shit, he can do that later. Now, he needs to give you what you want, what he came here to do.
His lips found your neglected stiff nipple, latching onto it and sucking like a starved infant.
"J-jungkook.." You sighed, droplet of sweat forming at your temples. The library was fully air-conditioned, but you were sweating buckets like you've been sitting in a sauna for the last ten minutes. Damn this boy and what he does to you.
The force and accuracy of his fingers pushing into you and abusing your sweet spot while suckling on your bud has sent you spiraling into a delirious state. It's so tight, the coil in your stomach. "I'm so close…"
He coaxed, tripling the speed of his digits rubbing against your convulsing walls. You never ceased to amaze him, if you were already tight before, he doesn't understand how your pussy is still clamping down on his fingers. "Fuck… Your cunt is fucking amazing..."
It doesn't take long before your eyes start rolling to the back of your skull and images of white stars fill the back of your eyelids. Relief, sweet relief flooded your body the moment you came.
Before any of your juices got the chance to dribble down your thigh, Jungkook slides his finger across your swollen slit, scoops it up and shoves it back into you making you squeak in surprise.
"You're not gonna let any of that go waste until I eat it out of you, understand?"
A sly wicked grin appeared on Jungkook's face and you knew exactly what that meant.
The jog from the library to Jungkook's apartment was the longest five minute in your life. Every part of your body, even the backs of your knees were coated with a thin sheen of sweat. Fuck all of this, you couldn't wait any longer. You slithered your body between him and the door and attached your hungry lips to his jugular. Your manicured fingernails scratching and digging into his back with much impatience.
"Fuck baby." Jungkook groaned as you nibbled and licked the expanses of tense his neck. Tasting the concoction of his sweat mixed with his favourite scent from Hugo boss. God, you loved how he tastes. How hot his skin becomes when it collides with yours, and how he makes you into the horny mess you are now. Fuck, you love everything about this man.
"So impatient." He fumbled with the keys for a few seconds before finding out it was unlocked. Hyung must have left if unlocked since he knew I was coming home, he thought. Paying no mind to it, their apartment building had great security anyways.
"Kookie," you moaned, desperately trying to peel off his restricting clothes from his body while he did the same to yours. "Want you now." You mumbled, gliding your hand over the taut muscle of his abdomen.
Jungkook captured you by the waist, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. Taking a handful of your plump ass in his hand and then giving it a harsh slap. He trod the ten step walk from their front door to the living room couch, gently setting you down on the soft furniture.
"Want you, too" He couldn't wait either. With hooded lids, he marvelled at your immaculate image sprawled on his sofa. Supple skin glowing under the fluorescent light, tits barely contained by your lace bra, and your hair acting as a halo around your radiant face. You looked fucked up as ever, and he lives for it.
As he was about to unbuckle his belt and finally stick his dick into you, he was interrupted by a cough.
"Um, excuse me?" Jungkook's platinum blond haired roommate started.
"Oh shit, Yoongi-hyung."
You bet yourself you were faster than flash, grabbing the decorative pillow next to you and concealing your exposed body.
"I-I thought you were..." anyone in the room can hear the sound of Jungkook gulping. "out with Namjoon-hyung?" He gave a crooked smile, side-stepping to the left just enough to cover you with his own naked self.
"Last minute cancel," the elder shrugged nonchalantly, as if he hadn't seen something he shouldn't have. "Don't worry about me. I'll mind my own business. You love birds can continue." He retreated back to his genius lab.
Jungkook looked at you, blush creeping up to the curve of his ears. "Sorry about that," lips curling into an innocent smile "where were we?"
Your fit of giggles we're unstoppable as you threw the pillow you were holding onto, aiming for his face. “Shut up, Kook.” You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy.
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wherever you will go | jjk
Pairing: Jungkook x female reader
Genre: actor!oc, director!jungkook, smut, angst, humour.
Word count: 21k
Summary: Not much happens when you grow up by the coast. Tourists come and go, the theatre where you work shows the same shows over and over and there’s always sand and salt in the air. Your dreams of making it big in the city are exactly that: dreams. When your hopes of becoming an actress are shattered into a million pieces, you find yourself getting drawn to a captivating up-and-coming movie director by the name of Jeon Jungkook. With his bright eyes and charming smile, he seems determined to glue your pieces back together -- even if it means leaving Ocean City behind for good.
Warnings: themes of loss/grief, mentions of death of a parent, dom!jungkook, dom/sub themes, spanking, squirting, unprotected sex, oral sex (f recieving).
A/N: Hello loves! HAPPY JK DAY!! This fic is a lil celebration of our golden boy Jungkook so I hope you enjoy!! This whole fic is sickeningly fluffy and reads like a pretentious YA novel but ya girl wrote this while she was stuck in quarantine a few weeks ago and I debated not posting this bc I lowkey love it lowkey hate it so pleasedonthateme if it’s bad LOL. Also -- just incase you haven’t read the warnings already there is a running theme that deals with the loss of a parent (a topic very close to my heart, hence why this piece was especially healing to write.) so reader discretion is advised if that is triggering to you in any way shape or form!!!! P.P.S Largely unedited so pls bare with any mistakes!
You're late for your work shift, you note, as you catch sight of your watch face glaring up at you menacingly from the arm clutching the handle bars of your bike. As if your mood couldn't get any more miserable -- the dreary morning drizzle that falls from the sky and drips icily down the back of your nape was bad enough.
Goddamn, you groan to yourself as you will your feet to pedal ever faster. Now my hair is gonna be frizzy.
It's a Saturday and the theatre where you work always opens earlier at the weekends. You promised you'd be on time today, but yet here you are, speeding down the worn in sandy sidewalks of your seaside town a whole block away when you should've been opening up half an hour ago.
It's a habit of yours, being late. And as hard as you try, you just can't change a habit. But it can't be helped you suppose. Continuity is all you've ever known. That's the thing about living in a tiny seaside town. Things never change.
The view from your bedroom window has been the same for as long as you can remember — Ocean City — Aka, block after block of rainbow coloured houses with flaky paint leading up to the harbour where boats bob nonchalantly and fishermen reel in their catches beneath the gull filled sky. Beyond it the beach; greyish rolling waves and upturned pebbles nestled atop of hard sand in the winter and clear water and brightly coloured beach towels and brave surfers in the summer.
Nobody ever leaves, and the tourists that arrive in summer never stay. Life becomes a predictable practice, just each day lived out to the next in an endless cycle of never ending continuity. It's suffocating and endless and sometimes you feel like you're just a pawn on a giant chess board, destined to move one agonising square forward at a time, never diagonally. It's hard to change directions when you've been taught to stick to what you know.
You didn't always live here, in this town of continuity. You lived in the big city for a while, where no day was the same as another. But after your mother died you and your older brother were shipped off to live with your dad, who wouldn't know the definition of adapting if it hit him square in the face. He's always been the same square shouldered, balding dude in his forties who never wanted kids and never quite got over losing your mother to the big buck actor she ran off with when you were two.
So that's how you ended up here. Late for work at your job in the country's most prized vacation spot. And your boring reality.
You roll past the beach huts on the shoreline that alternate between vibrant pink and muted blue, barely paying attention to the boardwalk with its little boat house that stretches out into the horizon like a crooked finger. When it gets dark, you can spot the pier carnival lights flashing in the distance from here as they dance across the reflection of the pale white moon and play among the waves.
Even now, the yellow lights of the ornate street lamps that line the water's front shine like tiger's eyes against the sky just like they always have when you turn down the familiar route that takes you past the winding lanes of trinket shops and the happy hour bars and the carnival that feels strangely empty at such an early hour, not a single rollercoaster ride in operation.
Before long you're skidding to a stop outside of the The Crestmont, the old theatre where you work. It's everything you'd expect from a vintage cinema; pink and blue neon lights and a gold trimmed ticket booth out front with a three-sided marquee that extends from the front of the building like a brightly lit airport runway. You hurry beneath it, grateful for the protection it provides from the rain that has started to come down in lashes now, before heading over to the rack around the back of the building where you can chain your bike.
The Crestmont used to be somewhat of a hotspot back in the day or so your told, but these days it only shows cartoons at a discounted price for the neighbourhood kids and the occasional local production of some worn out musical everyone has seen a hundred times before. It's lost all it's magic, everyone says. But you disagree; you probably spend more time here than anyone, and there's magic in every inch of this place.
From the red velvet curtains to the grand chandelier, The Crestmont is one of a kind. Sometimes you disappear into the theatre by yourself for a while unbeknownst to your manager. You can almost taste the laughter and the tears and the love that has been spilled and shared unapologetically amongst these seats. Pure magic.
Your mom left a piece of herself here, too. If you close your eyes you can hear her laughter spilling out into the theatre, or her lilting singing voice filling every nook and cranny like a haunting siren. She was the Crestmont's star. Ocean City's sweetheart.
There's a wall of fame in the lobby. It's covered in portraits crested with gold frames, all filled with pictures of the Crestmont's greatest performers. You've spent hours there — (turns out it's the perfect hiding spot from your manager) — fingers tracing the plaques beneath each one, all inscribed with names that townsfolk whisper with dreamy looks in their eyes. Some are black and white, some colour, but all of them depict pretty faces with beaming smiles that never seem to fade.
Not even your mom's. Her smile is pearly and bright, right above the plaque with her birthdate. And her death date.
And right there at the end, an empty frame. Your frame. You can feel it. You already know how you'll pose for your picture. Hair over one shoulder, hand on hip, smile so convincing that it'll be like every happiness in your heart is written right across your forehead proudly, and you won't have to dull it any longer.
You finish hooking a chain around the handlebars of your bike, catching sight of your reflection in the darkened windows. Staring back at you is a girl dressed in a maroon v-neck with a preppy dicky bow tied around her collar. You frown. The white shirt itches and the high waisted pants make your crotch look weird but the uniform is compulsory. The only thing uglier is the sour expression on your face, which you try to smooth out with your thumb, experimenting with plastering a sickly smile to your face instead. It might be convincing if your lips didn't strain and your eyes weren't so prone to rolling without your permission.
You need to learn to hide your emotions, your father said. You have your feelings written across your face. Customers don't like that.
It's true; customer's didn't usually like you, your unforgiving face or when you spilled cola down their blouse or spat in their popcorn. One more complaint and you were on the path to being fired once and for all, and although in some ways you would be glad to say goodbye to the stupid slushie machine that always gets stuck and the ungrateful customers and the goddamn uniform, you can't loose this job.
Not when it's your ticket to making it big. Then customers will point to your picture as they pass and clutch their chest with a snide superiority, Oh! Can you believe she served me a cola once? I always knew she was gonna make it! instead of Would it kill you to smile a little, honey?
So you swallow a sigh and make your smile as convincing as possible and march inside of the ornate theatre doors of The Crestmont, hoping that today may be the day where things finally change for once.
Where it begins
"I'm going to work!" You call as you you pull a baseball cap down over your hair to cover it's unbrushed wildness. "I won't be back for a while so don't wait up, okay Taehyung?"
You pause with your hand on the door, listening carefully for a response; the small house you live in pulsates with the bass of some indie rock album your brother and his friends are obsessed with at the moment, and your eyes roll when you peer up the staircase and find Taehyung's bedroom door firmly closed like always.
With a shake of your head you scribble out a message on a sticky note — GONE 2 WORK. — and leave it for him to read when he eventually emerges from his man cave in search of sustenance and finds you gone.
You brush away the funny ache that nestles in your stomach. This is nothing new. You're used to not being heard. Your dad is always gone for trips you suspect involve more play than work, and your older brother pretends he's not broken by hanging around with the neighbourhood cool kids and barraging himself in his room for days on end. Despite living under one roof it feels as though you're miles apart, an invisible barrier separating you indefinitely.
You weren't always like this; distant, always stepping on eggshells around each other. You were a family once. A happy one. But since the accident there's been an absence in this house, and nothing has been the same since.
Still, you know that beneath Taehyung's standoffish persona, he's still your big brother. He worries about you. So you tack the note to the fridge and make your way outside.
The lawn is already brown despite it only being late May, and summer is shaping up to be hot and sticky, though you live two blocks away from the beach so the coolness of the ocean still thankfully pervades against your perspiring skin, the gulls already calling you with their high pitched squaks from down at the shoreline.
You've barely made it to the end of the drive before there's the sound of knuckles rapping against glass. You look up and your heart jumps into your mouth. Staring back at you is a pair of dark eyes from behind the upstairs windowpane. Even from this distance you can see how they shine, deep and dark like a cup of black coffee, and you'd recognise the annoyingly cute smirk that matches them anywhere.
Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Taehyung's best friend, and, unfortunately, your crush for as long as you knew what the word love meant.
"Hey, Y/N!" Your heart sinks when the window slides open and a messy head of brown hair sticks out through the gap and points at you with a pout. "You're leaving already? Without me?"
Oh; another thing about Jeon Jungkook. He's also your co-worker, which means you spend 16 hours a week in his company, much to the glee of your heart and the dismay of your conscience.
You weren't exactly surprised when you turned up to the Crestmont theatre for your first shift and were left in the capable hands of none other than Jungkook to teach you the ins and the outs of the popcorn machine and the ticket booth.
For as long as you've known him he's been somewhat of a film buff. He practically grew up holding a camera. You always used watch him and your brother making home movies in the backyard, fit with ketchup sachets for blood and endless costumes from your mom's closet. And the one time you stayed at his house when your dad went away for a while after the accident, you saw all the classic movie posters on his bedroom wall; Casablanca, Singing in the Rain, Jaws. So it made total sense for Jungkook to be at the Crestmont. In fact, you couldn't imagine him anywhere else.
That day you were mostly just surprised that he knew who you were at all. While you had spent years watching him from your bedroom window while he kicked a ball around with Taehyung or avoiding his eyes at the table when he stayed for dinner, he had never so much as glanced in your direction.
Deep down you think the reason he was so quick to take you under his wing is because he knew first hand how hard the accident hit your family. You suppose he feels he owes it to Taehyung to keep you in high spirits.
Although if you weren't you and he wasn't him, you'd swear Jungkook's attentions had become almost flirtatious as of late. He always goes the extra mile to spend time with you, and you even though you know it'll end up with you getting hurt you can't bring yourself to stop him.
You see, Jungkook has a gift for subtle charm. Like how he always sneaks you sodas out back on your lunch break, never forgetting the extra syrup — tooth rottingly sweet just how you like it — slipping one of his own dollars into the cash register to avoid a telling off from your manager. Or how he insists on helping you clean up after the theatre is empty, showing you the best secret places like down the back off seats to find misplaced trinkets and the creaky floorboard where your manager hides his cigarettes. How he insists on walking you home after the evening shift, even if he says he's going this way to see Taehyung anyway.
You've spent countless hours pondering over whether his sweet talking words mean as much to him as they do to you. And as much as you know it's unlikely for someone like Jeon Jungkook to ever have feelings for you, you can't help the way your heart speeds up every time he shoots you one of his signature bunny smiles that light up his whole face like he's happiness personified. And you can't bring yourself to hate him for it.
"I did call," you respond matter of factly, finally sucking in a breath of courage to turn around and squint up at him through the afternoon sun with a shrug. "But that trash you're listening too was too loud for you guys to hear me."
Jungkook's eyes widen as he fumbles around beneath the windowsill and pops up again holding up a shiny vinyl record sleeve. You recognise it instantly; it's from his favourite film — Submarine. He hardly ever shuts up about it.
"This is not trash. This is, like, the best movie soundtrack ever made!" He shakes his head as he takes the needle off of Taehyung's vintage record player, music ceasing with a scratch, and slips it into the sleeve with a grin. "Good thing I have it downloaded so we can listen to it on the way to work, hm?"
You roll your eyes and tap your foot impatiently, and at that, Taehyung appears behind him.
"You're leaving already?" He frowns, words directed at Jungkook even as he glances through narrowed eyes at you stood awkwardly on the front lawn.
"Yup. My shift starts in twenty." Jungkook shrugs, disappearing into the room for a second before he emerges again with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sorry dude. I can come back afterwards though, if you want?"
Taehyung purses his lips. Even from here you can see the stress lines embedded in his forehead that make him look older than his humble age of nineteen, somehow weak unlike how you always saw him as a kid. Big and strong; untouchable; your brother.
His blunt eyes never quite meet Jungkook's as he shakes his head softly. "'S good. I was gonna try and sleep, anyway, before the sun goes down. Didn't get much shut eye last night. Not with the..."
Nightmares. Taehyung trails off, but you know that's what he's alluding to. The nightmares that turn your big strong brother into a sniffling mess in the dead of night, kicking around mercilessly until you sneak into his bed and whisper to him until he slips into slumber again. Not that you ever acknowledge it in the morning over your bowls of cereal and vacant good morning's.
"Okay." Jungkook's face momentarily falls; a rare occurrence from the boy who seems to be perpetually cheerful. He pats Taehyung on the shoulder gently. "Take care of yourself, okay man?"
Taehyung just nods, letting out a yawn as he rolls into a stretch. "See ya tomorrow."
You're jolted from your thoughts when Jungkook throws his left leg out of the window, then the other, arms bulging in just the right way where they poke out of the sleeves of his plain white tee as he climbs down the drainpipe and lands with a thump on the soles of his high top sneakers.
"Hey kiddo." He grins as he wipes the palms of his hands on the thighs of his ripped jeans, before messing up your hair despite your groan of protest.
"Don't call me that. You're only a year older than me."
You're startled when you meet the pair of warm eyes that glint golden brown in the summer evening light, chest contracting as you look away and break into a fast walk towards the street.
"And you know you can just use the front door right?"
You hear him snort behind you, neglecting to use the front gate and instead launching over the fence so he lands directly in front of you on the sidewalk.
"How am I supposed to impress my best friends little sister if I can't show off my guns?" He flexes his arm, but you just brush past him with a roll of your eyes.
"You're an idiot."
You hear the clunk of his bike chain unhooking from the gate, before a set of wheels pedal up on the sidewalk beside you. "Hey! Where are you going?"
"Uh, to work?" You offer bluntly, squinting at him through the sun. "You should be too, we start in fifteen minutes."
"I mean why are you walking? What happened to your bike?"
You roll your eyes. "Some tourist kids slashed the wheels at the beach."
"Shit. Really?" Jungkook tuts, but you don't miss the glint in his eye as he nods towards the pegs on the back of his bike that were made for carrying a passenger."Then I guess it's my lucky day. Hop on, we can ride together."
You come to a standstill, arms crossed tightly. "I'd rather walk."
"Oh come on!" He wiggles his eyebrows. "It'll take double the time if we go on foot, and I recall it being you who got a final late warning last week."
"If we go on foot?" You laugh breathily, determined to stand your ground. "Just go on ahead, I'm good here."
"Well, I'm not exactly going to leave you here alone on the side of the road now am I? So I'll be forced to walk with you. And I'm older than you remember? Look, I'm already out of breath! My legs aren't what they used to be, y'know."
"Fine!" With a pout you take the helmet resting in his front basket and hook it underneath your chin, biting your lip to stop a smile from gracing your lips at the excitement that lights up Jungkook's features. "But only because I want you to shut up."
"Your wish is my command." He says with a pat to your head. "Hold on tight, okay?"
And as you wrap your arms around his waist, you're sure his ears heat up a deep shade of red, even it could just be the evening light playing tricks on you.
The theatre at the Crestmont feels eerily quiet when its empty.
You know that because even though your shift was supposed to end at 5, you offered to stick around to help clean up after today's performance. Phantom of the Opera.
"Jesus," You groan as you pick up another sticky soda cup that someone had kindly spilled all over the ground for you to clean up, dropping the offender into a black trash bag. "Doesn't anyone around here know how to use a trash can?"
You fall into one of the theatre seats with a sigh and run your fingers over the scarlet velvet, worn yet plush, the texture soothing you instantly. You tilt your head back and let the silence engulf you. No orchestra, no musical numbers, no stage crew shouting directions. No whirring cotton candy machine. Just you and the stage.
From here you can see every detail on the high ceiling littered with renaissance-style paintings of mermaids and babies armed with heart shaped bow and arrows. Your mom was an actress. When you were a kid you used to spent hours staring at them while she rehearsed. You were convinced they came alive once the theatre closed up for the night, their cheeky smiles evidence of a secret only you knew.
A trail of rainbows is cast by the grand chandelier hung in the center, and it draws your attention all the way down the aisles and up to the stage.
The Crestmont is only small, fitting perhaps 200 people at most. It's hardly Broadway. But the fire in your chest ignites as you glance side to side before sidling up the creaking wooden steps that wind up to the Crestmont's center stage. Your favourite part of the whole theatre.
It's not the first time you've done this. You often like to come up here after everyone has gone home, even though you technically aren't supposed to. There's a certain magic about being alone up here as you collect the lone roses that were thrown on stage by tonight's audience. Breathing in the musty smell of butter popcorn that lingers on the velvet curtains, feel the warmth of the bright stage lights glazing your skin. Something about it feels like home.
The first time you ever saw the Crestmont stage was on tv, watching a grainy camera shakily capture your mom in the very same spot you find yourself right now.
Your mom used to have a cardboard box filled with her old audition tapes. Everything from Hamlet to A Streetcar Named Desire, she'd starred in it, and you spent hours together in front of the television set trying to memorise the way she spoke your favourite lines and listening to her lilting voice recite backstage anecdotes about her rendezvous with foreign directors who dined on her in Paris or underground parties with celebrities you had never even heard of as she stroked your hair.
It wasn't until you got a little older that you realised that, just like you, your mom was a dreamer. Sure, she'd visited a couple different states and starred in some makeup commercials once, and that was enough to make her a celebrity in a town as small as this.
But really? She was just a small town actress with dreams larger than herself and way larger than the Crestmont where she made her name. And suddenly the gaps in time where she would disappear for weeks — sometimes months — on end no longer made sense to you. If she wasn't drinking cocktails with the prince of Monaco or clubbing in London, then where was she?
"Down town with those no good roadies," Taehyung told you once. "They made all these empty promises. Told her she'd make it big if she just did what they said. But look how that turned out."
That was the day you realised your mom was a better actress than you ever knew.
She always thought that her dreams would come true. She believed it so hard that you believed it too, naively. But who knows? Maybe they would have if she didn't get into an accident on her way to New York for her big break.
It's easy to imagine how your mom felt up here. She always looked so alive and free in those VHS tapes as she danced effortlessly across the stage with an ethereal weightlessness, the theatre silent except for the melodic sweetness of her monologues that drew tears to the eyes of those who listened eagerly.
If you close your eyes you can hear the roar of the crowd, hands clapping furiously. The orchestra tuning their brass in the pit, bows melodic against strings. Flowers landing at your feet. The deep breath of satisfaction as you take your final bow and the curtain closes.
Just like that you're moving across the stage, reciting the lines you know so well...
"You're gonna be a star like me some day," A voice whispers against your ear, soft and gentle. A memory. Your mom. "Just like me."
And just like that, she's there. In the audience, clapping. For you. And you feel invincible.
The sound of applause breaks you out of your trance. Real applause. You find yourself stood center stage, broom in hand, staring out at row after row of empty seats that gape with the same emptiness that was here when you arrived.
Except one of the velvet lined seats is filled now. Right at the front.
"Encore!" Jungkook whistles, the harsh thwacks of his palms clapping together clanging inside your ears. "Do it again! That was amazing!"
Your chest seizes painfully, a sudden bout of panic turning your blood cold. You feel the colour leave your face. How long has he been here? How long has he been watching?
Jungkook is watching you attentively, eyes soft at the edges with wonder. It makes bile rise in your throat. You can't be up here. Not when there's a pair of eyes looking at you, judging.
"I..." You begin, but the words get caught in your throat.
"I can't do this."
The way Jungkook's eyes widen and he lurches forward to catch you is the last thing you see before your vision goes black.
The boardwalk is strangely quiet for a summer evening. It's happy hour so you suppose most vacationers are already in the bars in their I LOVE OCEAN CITY T-shirts drinking cocktails or whatever. Not that you're complaining.
The smell of hotdogs and vinegar from the vans that line the strip still fill the air, snatches of conversations from children begging their parents to let them go on the waltzer one last time barely audible above the tinkling bells of the carousel. The ride operators drink soda's as they fan themselves with rolled up newspapers, grateful for the gentle hubbub on such a sticky evening, and then there's you, caught up in the middle of it all.
The wooden boards of the pier are warm against he backs of your thighs. You're sat with your legs dangling through the peeling guard rail that lines the strip. It was painted pastel blue at some point but years of sea spray and grubby hands made it fade to a sickly green tinge that matches the ocean.
Speaking of, the ocean would usually be directly below your feet, murky and wild, but today the tide has receded right back to reveal a large strip of sand. The stands suspending the pier rest on top of it so that you could walk right under and around them if you wanted to. You and Taehyung used to do that all the time when you were kids. Searching for barnacles. Exploring the dark places.
"Here. Eat up. You totally passed out on me back there. You could probably do with some sugar."
The soft voice beside you is the only thing loud enough to permeate your daydreams. You don't have look up to know who it belongs to. Jungkook.
He peers down at you, sun beating down against his back. He's holding two vanilla ice cream cones, double scooped, and he thrusts one into your hands before mirroring your position at the edge of the boardwalk.
The walk down here from the Crestmont was more or less silent, and your stomach twists now you realise Jungkook wants to talk.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing." You lie. The ice cream is cold and sweet and covers the bitterness. "I just think it's funny."
Jungkook's tongue sneaks out to lick up the melted cream dribbling down his cone. "What is?"
"How this place stays the same but I feel so different." You were born here, raised here. This place was your whole life once, with it's salty air and bustling casino's. But since the accident, something's been bubbling inside you, swelling and crashing like the ocean below that taunts you and you've never felt farther from home in your life as you do now, looking out over the town that just won't budge, just like the funny ache in your chest. "Forget I said it. I don't know why I'm even telling you this."
Jungkook fidgets beside you and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh."It's okay, y'know. To miss her."
Your mom. You know that's who he means. Just the mention of her stings.
"Mhm." You snort. "Tell that to my family. If we all carried on missing mom then we'd be in pretty hot shit by now."
"If it's Taehyung you're worried about, then don't be. He's stronger than he looks."
"Until he's not anymore. And we lose him again just like—" You pause. You hate how you can hear the pain in your voice so you smooth it out. "Just like before. And I can't let that happen. I won't."
Jungkook shifts. As Taehyung's oldest friend he was there for everything in the aftermath of the accident. He was there when you put on a brave face for the sake of your family. He was there when Taehyung couldn't be any more.
"That doesn't mean you have to be strong all the time. Think about it this way. The ocean isn't always this calm right?" He gazes wistfully out over the ocean that swells and crashes against the shore, fingers twirling the gold chain around his neck. "Last winter when we had that huge storm, the waves were so big they smashed right through the pier support beams."
You furrow your brows. "What about it?"
"The ocean was just too much for the pier to bare and it would've come crashing down forever if half the neighborhood didn't come down to the beach in the dead of night, despite the rain, and hold it together until the storm calmed and the emergency repair boats could get to shore."
It's true. You remember how unforgiving the rain was as it pelted down against your back and froze you through to the bone that night as each and every familiar face from your neighborhood came down to the seafront to lend a hand, your family included.
Jungkook was there too. He was the one who knocked on your door in the early hours to spread the word. He got given free churros for life by one of the pier stall owners as a reward.
"What I'm trying to say Y/N, is that Taehyung has you to lean on, right? So who do you have?" Jungkook says, staring at you head on now. His sincerity almost makes you blush.
You bite your lip. Deep down you know that your beams are just as broken as Taehyung's and it's only a matter of time before they come crashing down into the water, and this time there'll be nobody to hold the pieces together.
"I don't need anyone. I'm just fine on my own. I can handle my ocean."
Jungkook brushes your hand. You flinch, so he pulls it back into his lap. "Well if you ever need a life boat, then you know where I am okay?"
You don't believe him, but he's staring at you so expectantly that you just tell him what he wants to hear. You're good at that.
"Okay." You whisper. "Okay."
Children's laughter bubbles up from the beach. You watch their distant silhouettes dancing among the waves. It's Jungkook who breaks the silence before it settles between you and becomes uncomfortable.
"Anyway, what were you doing up there on the stage today?" He smiles, like he's trying to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were having the time of your life before—"
You feel your cheeks start to burn. How long had Jungkook been watching you at the Crestmont? Had he seen the whole thing?
"It was nothing. I was just being dumb."
"Nothing?" Jungkook cocks his head to the side and punches you playfully. "It didn't seem like nothing."
"It just...it makes me feel close to my mom when I'm on the stage." You admit. "I loved watching her when I was a kid. She was always larger than life in my eyes. She had this way of making you really believe she was someone else. It was like she wasn't just acting -- she was becoming. Sometimes...sometimes I think I liked her better when she was in character."
You shake your head with a small smile. "I like me better when I'm in character. I used to dream about going to New York one day and becoming an actress just like she wanted to. Small town girl making it big in the city and all that." You scoff. "But I'm nothing like her. It's just fun to pretend sometimes."
"You're good. At performing. Like, really good." Jungkook's eyes are wide. When he places a hand on your forearm you don't shake it off this time. "You take after her. Everyone says it."
It's true. There's one photo of your mom in the house. It's in Taehyung's room. When you were younger you thought it was your face staring back at you from behind the glass. Sometimes you'll be walking down the boardwalk or serving soda's at work and you'll hear the whispers. See their heads turn. Is it her?
"Pfft. Looks mean nothing." You scoff. "She was fearless. I can't even speak in front of one person without passing out, let alone a crowd."
Realisation crosses Jungkook's face. "Oh. So that's what happened back there? Stage fright?"
"Uh huh." You roll your eyes. "So don't give me the follow your dreams spiel or whatever."
"Hmm." Jungkook uses his arms as a makeshift pillow so he can lay back against the ground. You mirror him, peering through your fingers to watch how the golden rays of the sun swallow his frame. "Remember that play they made us do in middle school?"
"The Nativity?" You raise your eyebrow. It was the first theatre production you were in, before the accident and way before you had stage fright.
"Yeah." He grins. "I was the sheep. Taehyung made fun of me for months afterwards because of that stupid costume my grandma made."
"Yeah." You snort. "You did look sorta dumb."
Jungkook bumps your arm with a playful pout that makes you giggle. "And do you remember how I forgot my lines on stage and nearly pissed myself with stage fright? God, I still remember how mad my dad looked in the front row. We'd practiced that part for weeks. I don't know why it happened. I just froze—" A small smile forms on his lips. "But you didn't. Next thing I know there's a kid in a gold star of Bethlehem costume running on stage to recite my lines for me. You stole the show, remember that? Everyone loved you."
"That was then." You murmur, but you can't suppress the smile tugging at the corners or your mouth. "I'm not the same person."
"You were a year younger than the rest of my class but you auditioned anyway, because you knew that you were the only person who could play the star. Because you were a star."
Jungkook turns so that his head rests on his elbow and you're suddenly so close you can feel his breath ghost across your cheek. Your heart pumps in your ears as you gaze dips down to his rosy lips and back up to his sparkling eyes which bore into yours.
"You still are a star."
The words echo in your ears, soft and sincere. His tongue snakes out to wet his lips. You lose your breath. And then you jump away, placing a safe distance between your bodies before you can do something you regret.
"And what about you. Are you still a sheep?" You tease, turning your face so he can't see how it burns rosy red.
"Nah. Figured out pretty quickly after that that I was better off behind the camera." He chuckles.
"Oh right. You still have that thing?" You nod to the camera in his lap. It's one of those old ones that looks like the type that needs a film reel and a projector, but it's been modified so there's a little viewfinder at the side to check the footage instead. "Can I see?"
"What?" Jungkook blinks.
"Some of the stuff you've filmed?"
"Oh! Right!" It's his turn to flush now, scratching the back of his neck as he anxiously thrusts the camera into your hands and pays close attention to the hangnail at the edge of his thumb as you watch the footage.
Your eyes widen when a familiar scene rolls out on the tiny screen. You, on stage at the Crestmont. Jungkook filmed you.
"You." He rushes."Yeah, I know. Sorry if this is awkward—"
"No. Not at all. I just—" You watch in awe as the you inside the camera moves across the stage with an effortless grace. How the lights make your eyes shine and your skin brighter than you remember it being in the mirror this morning. "How did you do that?"
Jungkook's forehead creases. "Do what?"
"Make me look like...that."
"I didn't do anything." Jungkook shrugs. "That's just how I see you."
You could listen to him say that all day, but you stop yourself mid swoon.
"Don't say things you don't mean."
"I do mean it. And I'll show you." He wiggles his eyebrows.
He grabs your hand and squeezes it. Tight. "I don't know how yet but I will."
You roll your eyes. "Good luck, Jeon."
"You know I like a challenge." Jungkook laughs, and the melodic sound goes right to your chest. "I'll make you see yourself how I see you. Just wait."
"Since when did you have four wheels?" You call to Jungkook with a quirk of your brow, resting your elbows on the window ledge of the beat up truck he pulls up in outside the Crestmont.
It's a sticky August afternoon and the rusty red vehicle purrs— or more like splutters — in the parking lot as Jungkook untangles your bike from the rack and lifts it into the cargo bed like it's weightless. Just yesterday he came by with his pump and a patch to fix that goddamn slashed tyre, and now he's stealing it?
"Hey! What are you doing with my bike?"
He is clad in nothing but a white vest and board shorts, and you can see perspiration glimmering at his temples as the salty breeze blowing from the beach ruffles the dark curls that flop over his forehead.
"This is my dad's truck," His eyes flash with pride as he hops into the open drivers side door and makes the engine growl. He nods to the empty seat beside him and pushes his dark round sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, fanning his face with his hands. "And you won't be needing your bike today. Now hurry up and get in, loser. I've been waiting ages for your shift to finish and the AC is broken."
You raise a brow. "We're going somewhere?"
"Yeah. Why else would I be waiting for you to get in my truck?"
"I mean, we're going somewhere in this?" You nod towards the truck's worn tires, the fumes that wisp from the exhaust pipe like a lit cigar. "Are you sure it's safe?"
Jungkook notices the way you bite your lip. You don't even have to tell him the worries that are running through your mind. It's as if he can read them like an open book.
"Are you still scared of riding in cars?" He questions, softly.
You nod. That's what an accident does to someone. Makes them scared of something they ordinarily wouldn't even question.
"A little." The breeze ruffles your hair and you hide behind it. "I'm getting better." You add, so he doesn't feel bad because you know he does. His face tells you as much.
"It's a short drive, if that helps." He rushes. "And I asked Taehyung and he said you'd be okay, but if you aren't then I can just walk you home—"
"No." You shake your head firmly. There's a funny fizzing in your stomach that's been there ever since that day on the boardwalk, and it's only growing stronger and stronger now you're inches away from Jungkook and his warm eyes and gentle smile. You don't want it to end just yet. It's enough to outweigh the wriggling fear that's always inside you just a little. "Where are we going?"
Jungkook's face lights up and your heart flips when you realise it's because of you.
"I told you I was gonna make you see what I see, didn't I?"
"Oh that was today?" You tease. "Must have missed it it in the calendar."
"Stop asking questions! Just get in. Please?"
"Fine." You walk around to the passenger door, sliding in beside him and throwing your bag into the back seat. "But I need to be home by midnight or Taehyung will worry."
"No problemo." Jungkook salutes as he switches on the engine and the truck roars to life. You clasp your hands tightly in your lap and breathe through your nose. You're okay. You're safe."Home by midnight. It's a promise."
You gaze out of the window to stop your thoughts from running wild. Jungkook turns left, away from town and the beach and everything familiar. You watch it get smaller and smaller in the mirrors, strangely relieved. Strangely excited.
"Now will you tell me where we're going?" You ask.
"Nope." Jungkook chuckles when you pout. "Just sit back. Relax. Take in the view. Listen to the music."
He leans across the dash, making a point to keep his eyes on the road as he fiddles with the stereo. A familiar string of guitar chords fill the truck. You recognise them, even if vaguely. Probably from Taehyung's vast collection of records.
"The Beatles right?" You ask, resting your chin on your knee as you dare to take a peek at him, blushing when you find him already staring at you.
"Pfft, yeah. Of course it's The Beatles! Only their greatest soundtrack, like, ever."
You shrug. "I've never listened to them before, so I wouldn't know."
"Oh come on? You haven't seen A Hard Day's Night?" His eyes widen when you shake your head. "Super Fly? Pulp Fiction? Purple Rain?"
You stifle a giggle at the look of pure shock he's sending you. "Nope. Should I have?"
"Absolutely!" He splutters. Passion shines in his eyes. "You're missing out on some of the greatest cinematography known to man!"
"I guess you have a lot to fill me in on, then."
"I sure do." His eyes soften. "Open the glove box."
You open it. Inside you find an assortment of cassette tapes, old and new. You send him a curious look.
"Close your eyes and choose one." He nods. "Go on."
You do as he says and shut your lids tightly, feeling around until your fingers curl around a tape you're strangely drawn to. When you open your eyes you find a worn box in your palm, yellow at the edges, and you're momentarily disappointed until Jungkook hums in approval beside you.
"Good choice! Dirty Dancing. A classic." He takes it from you and slides the tape into the stereo. It crackles a little before the music starts. "Trust me, you'll love it."
The stereo tracklist flashes amber. 01: Do You Love Me?
"You broke my heart 'cause I couldn't dance," Jungkook sings along in a deep voice, eyebrows bouncing as you loll your head to the side to send him an eye roll. "And now I'm back to let you know I can really shake 'em down!"
The song starts, all vibrant guitar and drums. It has a funky 60's groove, like it belongs in a swing dancing club instead of on the highway at sunset. It's a happy song and you think it suits Jungkook just right.
Speaking of Jungkook, he starts to bob his head in time with the beat, fingertips tapping in rhythm against the steering wheel. He looks adorably dorky, losing himself to the song, like he's forgotten you're even sat beside him.
"You look like an idiot." You deadpan, though you can't cover the laugh that escapes you as he sings along louder.
"No, I look like I'm having fun!" Jungkook rolls down the window and turns up the music so loud he has to shout for you to hear him. "Don't you ever do this? Just give in to the music for a while? Let your body do what it wants?"
"Uh, no. I prefer to just listen." You shout back. "Besides, your body should be focused on driving this car right now--"
"Oh come on! Just try it."
"Try it?" You blink, stomach suddenly knotting."Like now? In front of you?"
"Well duh. Look. Copy me."
He starts to shake his shoulders from side to side, fingers clicking as he nods for you to do the same.
"I...okay." You start to copy, but you catch yourself in the rear view mirror and you just look stiff compared to how effortlessly Jungkook moves to the rhythm.
"See you're doing it!" Jungkook grins, throwing his head back. "Feels good huh?"
"Kinda..." You have to admit there is something liberating about just letting go. "Like this?"
Your knees volunteer themselves to the beat, and then your arms, and before you know it you've got your eyes closed, hair whipping around your face as you speed down the interstate
"That's it. Feel the music!"
Before you know it, the song ends and you realise all at once that you're laughing. Loud and free, enough to make your belly hurt. Jungkook is too, the sound better than any song you've ever heard, and neither of you can seem to stop.
"Oh my god." You pant, covering your face with your fingers, embarrassed. "Now we both look like idiots."
"Don't hide from me." Jungkook bites his lip. You're suddenly aware of how close he is. His arms grab your wrists, pulling them away from your face, but he doesn't drop the one closest to him. Instead he links your fingers and uses your shared grip to change the gear as he turns down a winding road.
"I'm shy." You say, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.
"Why? You're beautiful." Jungkook puts the car into park. You realise all at once that you've been driving for ages and you didn't even panic once. "Besides, we've arrived. And you're not gonna wanna miss seeing this."
The destination Jungkook seems so excited about turns out to be a concrete parking lot.
"Where are we, Jungkook?" You ask, looking around but finding nothing but tyre tracks and dirt.
Jungkook has already hopped out of the drivers side, sliding over the hood of the car to tug open your door with a quirk of his brow.
He holds out his palm, upturned and calloused. "Do you trust me?"
You bite your lip, heart pounding. Do you trust him?
Your body speaks for you and you slide your hand into his. His thumb traces your knuckles reassuringly.
"Yes." You breathe. "I trust you."
You yelp when an arm wraps around your waist and hoists you out of the car, tightly interlocked fingers blocking your vision like a makeshift blindfold. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to."
"Okay." You giggle, feet stumbling as you try to find your balance with the help of a sturdy hand beneath your elbow.
Jungkook hums gently beneath his breath as he guides you up a path that turns from concrete to loose rock to dampened grass beneath the soles of your beat up sneakers. There's a voice in the back of your mind that tells you to be nervous; who knows where he could be taking you right now.
But as you breathe in the musty notes of his cologne and feel your heart flutter in your chest when he comes to a stop and rests his chin on your shoulder, just close enough to feel his laugh ghost across your neck, you don't care where in the world you are right now as long as it's beside him.
The sun is startlingly bright when you open your eyes for the first time and see the vibrant meadow that stretches as far as you can see.
Wait — that's not the sun. It's sunflowers. Clusters of them, cheerfully waving with the breeze from where you stand on the path that continues for a few steps before it disappears among their stems.
The sunflowers are a burst of golden colour against the fading green of the meadow, and the horizon beyond that which boasts the silhouette of beach rock against the soft blue of the ocean at sunset. There's tracks here and there where the uncut grass is trampled, like some children had played hide and seek.
You reach out a hand and brush your fingertips over the velvety petals; breathe in the botanical scent of the fresh sunny blooms that dances through the meadow. It's breathtaking, you think. There's no coordination, just freedom choreographed by the wind as the tall stems sway back and forth in their gentle dance.
Before you know it you've taken off into a run, grinning with childlike glee when the tall grass tickles your nose and the sun whispers against your neck.
"Jungkook, this place is—"
"Beautiful right?" You nod breathlessly, blushing deeply when you come to a stop and find him staring right at you. He squeezes your hand and that's when you notice your fingers are still interlinked. "I come here a lot. When I need to think."
"How did you find this place?"
"Taehyung and I stumbled upon it a few summers ago by accident." He says. "Nobody knows about it. It's our secret."
"It's so beautiful." You whisper. "The whole world needs to see this."
Jungkook kicks at a stone with the toe of his boot. "I kinda like it being a secret. This place...is special to me."
"Then why...." The words get caught in your throat. You swallow and try again. "Why did you bring me here?"
"I wanted to show you the things I find most beautiful. Remember?"
"Well yeah..." He scratches the back of his neck. Swallows thickly, like he's preparing himself. "But I was thinking of something a little different..."
You close your eyes, a smile appearing on your lips as you let the crisp breeze caress your face. "Then what?"
There's a sharp click of a shutter, and when your lashes flutter open in surprise, Jungkook is shaking a Polaroid picture back and forth, his eyes glinting with something mischievous.
"Hey! Give me that—" You reach for the Polaroid, stomach churning with a sudden shyness that makes you hug your arms.
"Just — don't do that okay?" He holds it out of reach, pleading with his eyes. "Please."
"Give up on what makes you happy just because you're scared." His palm cups your cheek. "You said it yourself. Being in front of the camera is where you belong. Don't you see that?"
"I'm not scared." You feel the heat rise in your cheeks when Jungkook sends you a knowing look. "Okay maybe I am scared. And so what if I am? You've already given me the face your fears spiel and I told you. I'm perfectly happy avoiding every camera known to man for the rest of my life if it means I never have to face them."
"But you've already faced one of your fears today. You got in my car, remember?" He raises an eyebrow, smug. "Well, two technically, 'cause you're here with me now and I know how nervous you used to get around me--"
"Do too! Every time we talk outside of work you get all shy and--"
"See! You're doing it right now!"
You don't know what compels you to do it. Maybe it's the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks or the way your heart quickens when Jungkook closes the gap between you, but before you can stop yourself you're reaching up and grasping his face with both hands.
"Oh just shut up and kiss me, doofus."
The smug smirk on Jungkook's face is replaced with wide eyed surprise, his lips falling still for a moment when yours crash against his. But then his steady hands find your waist and he supports you on your tip toes so he can pull you ever closer, melting into the plush press of your lips.
When you pull back, you're smiling. You can't help it. You've been dreaming of this moment since, like, middle school. And goddamn, he even tastes how you imagined. Like black coffee and toothpaste.
"See." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "Happiness suits you."
"Whatever, Jeon." You smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, but it's thanks to you."
Jungkook flashes you the biggest bunny grin you've ever seen, eyes sparkling at your words.
"Wait...stay like that." He reaches for his camcorder in his backpack and points the lens at you. The smile falls from your lips. You place a hand on his arm, grip tighter than you intended.
"What's wrong? Just keep smiling like that, the shot was perfect—"
"I don't know what to do." You shrug, the lens boring into you like a judgy aunt at Thanksgiving dinner. "The camera makes me nervous."
"Just pretend I'm not here."
You sniff. "I don't want you to not be here..."
"Listen," Jungkook cups your face, thumbs tracing your cheeks fondly. "The reason I brought you here? It's because this place reminds me of you. Beautiful."
"Just like you said, the world needs to see this place. Just like they need to see you."
"I..." Your heart is on the verge of exploding, you would swear it. "Okay." The word rolls off your tongue before you can stop it because somehow you trust him. And deep down, there's still that fizz of excitement mixing in with all the nervousness. The Jungkook Effect. You don't want to lose it to the darkness like everything else.
"I'll try. Just-- don't laugh at me okay?"
"You have my word, sarge." He salutes with a thoughtful grin. "Hold on a sec. I know exactly what you need to get you going."
Jungkook jumps to his feet and you watch with your chin tucked between your knees as he jogs down the rocky path and opens all four of the truck doors, even the trunk, before his head disappears into the vehicle and the same pumping bass from earlier starts blasting into the quiet serene of the sunflower field.
"There," He grins as he returns, out of breath, and sits back down beside you cross legged, holding his camcorder to his eye. "Now do what you were doing before again, but over there. Just pretend you're on stage at the Crestmont, okay?"
You feel the music wash over you and the urge to move hits you like a wave. Jungkook nods encouragingly and there's something in his eyes that flips a switch inside you. And for the first time in a long time, all the passion and spirit and feeling inside you fizzes up to the top and you can't contain it any longer.
"That's it!" Jungkook calls, shutter clicking uncontrollably. "I knew you could do it!"
An oak tree provides sun-flecked shade, a cool sanctuary from the sun that sets on the horizon and splashes the sky's canvas magenta.
Jungkook laid out a checkered blanket from the trunk of his truck which you both lay upon, shoulders pressed together as close as humanly possible, surrounded by your devoured picnic consisting of his mom's fruit punch and bags of snacks he took from the concession stand at the Crestmont when nobody was looking.
"Holy shit, Y/N." He says through a mouthful of popcorn, jabbing his finger at his favourite shot of you in front of the sunflowers. "This is what I've been saying! You're a natural in front of the camera."
"No, you're amazing, Jungkook." You feel for his hand. It's funny how natural it feels already when his pinky links with yours. "Behind the camera."
"You think?" He chews his lip, eyes searching yours for approval.
"I know. You should do something with these. People need to see them."
"I'm thinking of becoming a filmographer, actually"
"Like at the pier?" You think of the tacky photo booth that overlooks the sea in town, fit with all the silly cardboard cut outs that tourists come and take a photo with for a dollar.
"No, I mean a real filmographer." He shrugs, and you're sure there's a trace of a blush on his cheeks. "Y'know. Movies and stuff."
You nod. It makes sense for Jungkook to spend his life with a camera glued to his right hand. You can't imagine Jungkook anywhere else, and you have to ignore the sinking feeling that comes with the realisation that he would eventually leave Ocean City -- and you -- behind for the big screen.
"Well you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."
"My lucky star." Jungkook smiles.
He must see the sadness brimming inside you, his body shuffling closer so your knees brush. It's reassuring somewhat.
"Actually...there's something I should tell you."
He shifts under your gaze. The nerves rush back. "What is it?"
"I guess I finished writing my first screenplay..."
"That's like a movie script, right?" You ask eagerly, and he nods. "That's great, Kook!"
"Yeah, it's great it's just --" He pauses, and clutches your hand tighter like he's scared what he says next will make you let go forever. "It's about you."
You pale. "M-me?"
"I mean, it's about you and...and Taehyung! And your mom." Jungkook rushes. "I was inspired by your story at the boardwalk and it just happened! I'm sorry, I know you probably hate me now and think I'm crazy but--"
"Burn it." You deadpan.
Jungkook blinks. "W..what?"
"I said burn it." You pull his hand into your lap and he lets out a sigh of relief. "I don't hate you, Kook. I just think you were right earlier when you said I need to face my fears. And the only way I can do that is by forgetting my past. The last thing I need is a whole freaking movie about it."
He joins in with your strained chuckles. "Sure you aren't mad?"
"Not mad." You assure with a smile.
"Then I'll burn it."
You avoid his gaze shyly. "I'm kinda honoured you wrote about me, though." You admit.
"I guess...I guess I could call you my muse." Jungkook blurts hurriedly. His nose is a deep shade of pink and it makes you want to tease him forever.
"Yeah." You nod to yourself with a smile. "I like that. Your muse."
And then his lips are on yours again, like he can't quite help himself, and you start to forget where yours begin and his end.
This time it's not delicate and sweet. It's slow and languid, hot and heavy. The sunflowers break your fall, Jungkook's lips never leaving yours as he climbs on top of you, one hand tangled in your hair, the other planted beside your head so that his chest hovers above yours. You're almost certain he can feel how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, but you don't care, too lost in the bliss of finally feeling Jungkook's plush lips against your own.
"Come to New York with me." He says breathlessly between kisses, and your heart stops.
"What?" You can hardly drag your lips away from his but you have to be sure you heard him right. New York?
"I mean, in the future. I'm gonna go to New York. Get a job at a film production company or something, I don't know--" He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Come with me."
"Why?" He frowns. "Is it me?"
"No! God no."
"Then why? You said it was your dream right?" You nod. "So what's stopping you?"
"I..I have to take care of Taehyung, and my job at the Crestmont and--"
"Okay. Lets pretend none of that exists. It's just you and me." His breath ghosts against your forehead. "Y/N, will you come to New York with me?"
"Yes." It comes out breathless, but you mean it. With every atom and nerve and fiber in your body. "Lets go to New York."
Where things change.
3 years later.
A postcard sits on the Welcome Home! Doormat you and Jungkook bought before you left for New York. You recognise the picture perfect image of Ocean City on the front, and Taehyung's messy scrawl on the back that tells you he's doing fine at his new management job at the Crestmont and he will be sending a housewarming gift imminently.
— Stay smiling, Y/N. Miss you already! Taehyung. :)
With a small smile you tack it onto the bare fridge. It brightens up the empty kitchen somewhat, a little piece of home and a reminder that you don't need to worry about leaving your brother behind to fend for himself so much any more. Since he pulled his life together and got a job at the theatre, it's like he came alive again. Found his purpose.
Speaking of purposes, you suppose that's how you found yourself here. In your very own apartment in a nice complex on the east side. The east side of New York City.
There's a pair of satin curtains hung over the balcony doors, probably left behind by the old tenant as it's the only form of furniture in the whole apartment. They rustle in the morning breeze and you tiptoe across the room barefoot to rip them open, letting your eyes flutter shut when the early morning sun filters through the glass and cascades over your face like a warm embrace.
You press a hand to the glass, studying your reflection; the messy lump of hair atop your head, the soft shadow of your lashes atop your cheeks. And beyond it, New York. Your new normal in all it's familiar glory from your dreams, yet still so deliciously foreign it makes your heart leap whenever a cab horn rings out in the distance or you breathe in the smell of fresh bagels from the shop down the street.
Home. You could finally call it that now. But New York is just a city and this apartment is just a house. The real reason you get to call this place home is because of who you came here with.
You've been dating for two and a half years by now. He let you borrow one of his old much-too-big t-shirts to sleep in last night. There's a hole in the shoulder and the hem brushes your knees but it's warm and smells like his cologne and your heart expands when you close your eyes and remember this is just the beginning. You have so much to do, so many things to see here in New York. So many things to learn. And there's nobody you would want to explore life with more than Jungkook.
His camera equipment lays in a cardboard box by your feet, and something compels you to take out the old-school camcorder he loves. The leather strap tightens perfectly around your hand and the red RECORD button flashes as you open the doors wide and lift the lens to take in the view. Something tells you you're gonna want to remember this moment forever.
It's not long before a pair of arms wrap around your waist, chin tucked cheekily into your shoulder. "There you are." Jungkook husks, stilly groggy with sleep as his lips ghost across your cheek.
Turning around in his grasp, you find him still shirtless, sweatpants slung low around his hips. He's been working out recently, and you can't deny you don't love how firm his shoulders feel when you brace yourself on them to stand on your tip toes and leave a peck to his lips.
"Morning sleepyhead," you say, running your fingers through the strands of his silky bed hair. It's longer these days, whispering across the nape of his neck and falling across his round eyes sweetly. They flutter closed when you massage his scalp just how he likes it. "I was wondering when you'd finally get out of bed."
"Missed you." His lips turn up when he sees the camera pointed at his face. "Whaddya doing with that?"
"Making memories." You say simply, zooming in on him as he rubs his sleepy eyes. "So we never forget this."
A cheeky smirk appears on his lips as he wraps you in his arms, a surprised giggle leaving you when he spins you around and grabs the camera so he can point it at the both of you, his chin resting on your shoulder now as his bare arm snugly wraps around your waist.
"Hey stop! I just woke up, I look bad!"
"Hello us of the future," Jungkook chuckles, pulling your fingers away from your face when you bury your face in his chest to hide from the lens. "It's our first day in New York and Y/N is being all camera shy--okay, okay fine, lets show them the view instead!"
Jungkook finally flips the lens around so it focuses on the distant silhouettes of tall skyscrapers skimming the blue skyline, before he turns it back onto you guys once more with a mischievous look this time.
"But we have to go now because we have far more interesting business to attend to..." He lowers the camera as his lips start to trail up your collar bone and he smiles when your eyes flutter shut and you gasp at the feeling, but it's quickly replaced by a pout when you wriggle out of his embrace with a stern look.
"Not now. Later."
"Mmf? Why?" He whines, making grabby hands towards you. "You're so warm, jus' wanna cuddle for a bit."
"No time!" You call over your shoulder as you grab him by the hand and drag his heavy feet behind you. "We've got an apartment to decorate."
Before you know it you've enlisted Jungkook's help in laying tarps across the living room floor, two pots of bright white paint plonked in the center. It's not like you could afford a decorator after all. You are two broke twenty-something's trying to make it big in New York, and all that cliche stuff. So you would just have to do it yourselves.
Jungkook's over in the corner, miming along to the guitar solo from some rock song playing from the radio balanced on the windowsill, the paint roller his instrument as he dances around the room with giddy impulse. There's paint all over his butt where he accidentally leaned against one of the wet walls and he's got his hair tied back into a bun at the crown of his head and you watch him out of the corner of your eye while an affectionate smile creeps onto your face no matter how hard you try to curb it.
That's when you notice the camera in his other hand. He zooms in on the stepladder in the corner, the paint spillage in the hall, the heart with Y/N + JUNGKOOK FOREVER written inside it on the back wall. Documenting everything as usual.
He was always filming you, too. Whether you were making coffee in the morning or drying your hair. He'd even slow down beside you on the sidewalk to get the perfect shot.
You find it cute, even though you pretend to hate it. It makes your heart flutter every time you catch him rewinding the footage with a contented smile on his face, like he just captured the whole world with his lens.
It's no surprise when you finish putting the final coat on the wall and step back to admire your handy work that you find him wandering around the apartment with his hand curved around the lens of one of his bigger cameras like it's natural to him. You always joke that thing is like an extra limb, but he looks so calm as he looks through his lens at the room that is now drunk on the afternoon sun pouring through the window, the golden rays like honey on his skin, that it's easy to see that the camera really is a part of him. Passion lies in the soft lines of concentration on his face, in the plump lip tugged between teeth as he fiddles with the settings.
Jungkook sees beauty where others don't, where others can't. It might as well pump through his veins. And it's one of the reasons you love him so much.
You shake your head when you see how a small smile finds his lips when he leans a shoulder against the door frame and lets the camera land on the thing he swears is most beautiful.
"Hey." You warn, shooting a side wards glare at the camera lens you spot Jungkook not so discreetly pointing in your direction. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" He runs a hand through his hair, lips pulling back into a sly bunny smile when you bend down to reach a spot you missed at the bottom of the wall. "I'm not doing anything."
Your upper lip twitches. "Are you zooming in on my ass?"
"What? No!" Jungkook scrunches his nose with wide eyes, a habit you knew meant he was guilty, a pout forming on your lips as he snaps the viewfinder closed and shoves the offending piece of his equipment behind his back.
You narrow your eyes affectionately. "Perv."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He blows a strand of hair out of his face innocently but there's a playful glint in his eyes and you can hardly keep a serious face as you plant your hands on your hips in what you hope is a menacing manner.
"Then lemme see it." You challenge with a nod to the camera behind him.
He feigns indifference, cocking his head to the side like an overgrown puppy. "See what?"
"That's it!" You shake your head, charging towards and him making grabby motions towards the camera. Jungkook looks down at you fondly as he holds it above your head, out of reach, and it only makes you you pout harder. "Hey! Give it!
"Never!" You jump pitifully, fingers grasping around nothing. A melodic chuckle spills from Jungkook's lips when you cross your arms over your chest in defeat and blink up at him crossly. "You have to say the magic word first."
You scoff at the teasing look on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows and waves the camera just above your head, before an idea strikes you and within seconds you're wielding a paintbrush, Jungkook's eyes widening when you point the paint coated bristles at his face.
"Give it up." You hold out your palm with a smug look. "Or the walls are not the only thing getting a fresh coat."
"You wouldn't." He smirks, despite being backed into a corner now.
"Oh yeah?" Without further ado you swipe the brush down the bridge of his nose, swallowing a giggle at the white smudge it leaves behind and his shocked expression beneath it. "You underestimate me, Jeon."
Jungkook pushes his tongue into his cheek, eyes dancing up and down your body before they lock with yours daringly. "You shouldn't have done that."
"Or what?" You taunt playfully, a laugh escaping you, but you quickly bite down on your lip when you see the glint in Jungkook's eyes as he submerges both his hands into the nearby bucket of paint.
You don't run when he steps closer. Instead your breathing quickens, heart doing a funny somersault when he brushes your hair to the side and clamps both of his wet hands on the sides of your jaw to bring your face up to his.
He tastes like coffee and desire when your lips crash together in a delicious tangle of teeth and tongue, all the thoughts racing through your mind dripping away like honey until all that's left is the thump of your heart against your chest and Jungkook's warmth as he backs you up against the wall.
When he pulls away he rubs his paint covered nose against yours, cocking his head and smiling sweetly when he leans back and admires his handy work.
"You have paint on your face." He looks down at his white hands innocently with a shrug. "Whoops?"
His hands trail down to your hips. You reach to your side and grab a fistful of paint, wiping it down the centre of his face and giggling when he groans and scrunches his eyes closed . "So do you."
"Okay, that's it. This means war!" Jungkook growls, strong arms wrapping around your waist, and before you know it you're stumbling over to the mattress in the corner, Jungkook's body hovering over yours.
"You wanna play dirty, huh?" Desire-filled eyes trace your face, travelling down the expanse of your neck before zeroing in on your collar bones. You gasp when Jungkook's lips attach themselves to the sensitive skin, every inch of you set alight when his burning fingers slide beneath the hem of your tshirt and find your thighs. "Always being such a bad girl, huh?"
"So? What're you gonna do about it? Punish me?" You say teasingly, and he stiffens, lips leaving a mark behind on your neck with a pop. Jungkook's narrowed eyes meet yours and you feel your heart speed up with anticipation.
His lips twitch, like they're dying to turn up. "Brat."
With that, you're being flipped over onto your knees with a yelp. Jungkook's hands work quickly and before you know it your tshirt is over your head and the sudden breeze from the open balcony doors against your hardened nipples makes you gasp.
"You love it." You laugh breathily.
"Too much," Jungkook confirms, before his large palm presses you down into the bed firmly between the shoulder blades so that your ass is thrust up in the air. You wiggle is teasingly, though the breath catches in your throat when the first spank lands on your bare skin. Then a second, the sound ringing out through the empty room like an echo and making a damp spot appear on your panties.
"Hey!" You chastise when you remember the paint on his hands that just left two glaring handprints right across your ass.
Jungkook just smirks. "What? Now everyone knows it's mine."
A third slap and you have to bite the blanket to stop from groaning, then a fourth, and a fifth and by then your eyes are watering but in the best way. Calloused hands smooth over the burning area, soothing it.
"Good girl," A raspy voice whispers next to your ear. "Such a good girl for me, taking your punishment. I think you deserve your reward now, hm?"
"Please." You moan as he reaches around to grasp your breast, tweaking your nipples in a way that has you writhing beneath him.
"Don't say I didn't warn you though," Jungkook chuckles as he rips your panties down your legs, gasping at the sight of your dripping slit like it's the first time. He runs a finger down your folds, biting back a groan when it makes your legs fall open a little further, desperate for his touch. "I'm not gonna go easy on you."
"Jungkook, what do you-- oh!." Before you can finish, Jungkook is pushing your face back into the comforter, spreading your cheeks with his palms and licking an agonizingly slow stripe up your throbbing core. His tongue finds your clit easily, toying it with the tip playfully until you're gasping for air.
"Mmf, tastes so good." He murmurs against your folds, the vibrations of his chuckle making you moan so hard your legs start to shake. His tongue finds your hole, swirling around teasingly before it slips inside and you can't handle it anymore.
"Jungkook!" You gasp, reaching behind to grab his hair. "I..I can't-"
"You can." He says, almost a command, mouth leaving your pussy only so he can slide over onto his back and pull you back down onto his face by the hips.
"Oh g-god!" Your hand reaches for the headboard, landing on the wall to steady yourself when you remember you still haven't bought a bed frame yet. Your legs are starting to ache from holding yourself up but you don't care, too lost in the feeling of Jungkook's tongue lapping at your swollen folds as you grind in lazy circles on his face.
"C-close, Kook." You manage to splutter, head thrown back with pleasure when he slides two of his fingers inside you and starts to pump in time with his tongue, the sensation of being filled enough to send you over the edge into a shuddering climax that is unlike anything you've felt before, the only thought on your mind the way your hole clenches around your boyfriend's fingers.
It takes a few moments for your legs to stop shaking, your hearing slowly coming back into focus as you hear both of your heavy breaths intermingled. You look between your legs to find Jungkook staring up at you with a grin, eyes filled with wonder. His chin gleams with your juices, the front of his t-shirt damp as you realise with a gasp what just happened.
"Holy fuck." You swing your leg over his shoulder so you're beside him, Jungkook sitting up to look at you, still mesmerised. "I...I'm sorry, that was--"
"The hottest thing you've ever done." Jungkook finishes, grinning at you like he just won the lottery.
You raise a brow, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. Can I fuck you now?"
You can't help but laugh at his eager puppy dog eyes, hands practically twitching at his sides to touch you. A quick glance at his crotch confirms the biggest tent in his pants you've ever seen, and you crook a finger towards him with a sultry smile and a nod.
"Let's see if you can make me do that again."
"O-Okay!" Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head eagerly, and then he's on top of you, burning skin meeting burning skin. Your palm runs down his chest, Jungkook's eyes falling shut when it reaches the hem of his sweatpants. You cant help but gasp when your fingers wrap around his length through his boxers, core already throbbing again to be filled. He shivers when your finger circles his tip, admiring the wet patch on his boxers.
"Eager?" You smirk.
"You squirted on my face, Y/N, of course I'm goddamn eager."
"Get these off then." You tug at his pants and he kicks them off without a second telling.
"Your wish is my command."
When he returns to hovering over you, both completely bare now, he pauses. His eyes meet yours, a gentle smile appearing on his lips as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear and grips your jaw protectively.
"I love you, y'know."
You close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his but barely able to keep yourself from grinning with the elation swirling in your chest. "I love you too, doofus. Now hurry up or I'm gonna have to fuck myself."
"That sounds kinda awesome--"
"Okay, okay, on it!"
Palms spread your legs, and you both gasp when Jungkook runs the blunt head of his leaking cock up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices before he lines it up with your entrance.
"Ready?" He checks, thumb tracing circles into your inner thigh.
"As I'll ever be."
And with that, he pushes inside, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a sigh of relief at finally feeling your walls clenching around his throbbing length. The stretch of his girth stings, but it makes you feel so deliciously full, so perfectly whole to be connected to Jungkook like this that all you can get out is another soft I love you that earns a blissful smile from your boyfriend as he starts to move.
Each stroke makes you lose your breath, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot just right. It's when Jungkook takes your nipple into his mouth that you feel a second orgasm start to build, one hand gripping the sheets as the other drags scratch marks down his muscular back in blissful agony.
It's not long before Jungkook spills inside you with a deep growl, your own high hitting you as you feel him coat your walls. He collapses onto your chest, breaths deep and exhausted, and wraps you in his arms before you can even catch your breath.
Jungkook pulls the sheets up over your shoulders and places a kiss to the top of your head. He's so warm you feel yourself start to drift off into a blissful sleep, the smile on your lips never faltering.
"I love you too." Is the last thing you hear him say before sleep takes you under, and you're safe wrapped up in each other's arms.
When you open your eyes, the room is warm with sunset's rose tinted blush, and Jungkook's body is no longer beside you. Rubbing your bleary eyes, you sit up on your elbow and find him on the ground in front of the freshly painted wall, intricate petals and stems flowing from the end of the paintbrush he delicately waves across the surface to paint the prettiest sunflower you've ever seen.
"I'm home!" You hear your boyfriend yell out as he shuffles into the apartment, quickly followed by a yelp. "Hey, Gureum, stop trying to lick my face!"
You can't stop the smile that spreads across your features when a ball of white fluff comes bounding into the living room, the puppy that excitedly jumps into your arms tracking a trail of muddy paw prints over the script in your hands.
"Hey Gureum," You coo, scratching him behind the ears where you know his sweet spot is. "You're such a good boy, huh?"
"Don't praise him! He totally ran away from me in Central Park and I had to chase him all the way home!" You can practically hear Jungkook's eye roll, shaking your head fondly at the mock annoyance in his voice. It was Jungkook who begged you to adopt a puppy for months in the first place, and they've been more or less inseparable ever since — the little guy hardly ever leaves his side. It's safe to say Jungkook is definitely Gureum's favourite.
The smell of coffee and fresh bagels wafts through the apartment, a warm sensation settling in your stomach as your boyfriend rounds the corner and waves a brown paper bag.
"Still got us enough coffee to stay up all night learning lines though." Jungkook grins, dumping the contents onto the coffee table and raising his eyebrows when your hands dart straight for the chocolate cookies. "Speaking of learning lines, how is it going, pretty?"
He nods towards the script in your hand. It's worn at the edges and ferociously dog eared from all the nights you have stayed up until sunrise reciting the words littered across the pages over and over, until it's like your lips are moving by muscle memory and the words are a part of you.
After what felt like hundreds of failed auditions, you had started to lose hope. With every letter that landed on the porch with another SORRY or MAYBE NEXT TIME, you felt all the confidence in the dream you worked so hard to uncover start to dwindle.
But Jungkook was always there, by your side no matter what. Encouraging you when you forgot your lines or holding you when you didn't get the callback. Reminding you to eat whenever you were too absorbed in your work to cook or cheering you on from the crowd at your weekly improv performances.
It was Jungkook who cried with you when the director of the small theatre downtown called and gave you the lead part in his upcoming stage production. Your big break. And you were determined to make sure everything ran smoothly at opening night tomorrow, which is how you find yourself snuggled up on the couch rewinding your VHS copy of Dirty Dancing over and over again until you have every word memorised by heart.
"Pretty good." You say as you pop a salted peanut into your mouth while Jungkook slips out of his tweed jacket. He's been trying to dress more New-York-ish these days, or so he says. More dress pants and less sweats. "Final rehearsals start at five."
"Aren't you nervous?" Jungkook squishes into the space beside you, Gureum cuddling up between your bodies.
Tomorrow night's show is sold out, along with every night after that for the next week. You heard there were going to be at least 700 people there each night.
"Terribly." You admit, stomach churning at the thought of 700 pairs of eyes staring right at you. You try to focus on the fizzing excitement that lingers there too, growing stronger and stronger. "But I think I'm more excited".
"I'm excited to see you up there doing what you love." Jungkook smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "My star."
"Well don't get too excited because I still keep messing up this one goddamn scene," You flip the script to a page covered in bright highlighter scribbles and run your fingers through your hair exasperatedly. "I'm totally gonna mess it up and then I'll never get another job and—"
"Shhh," Jungkook takes the script from your hands and runs his eyes over it quickly. "Don't talk like that. You're gonna be amazing — hold up..." He raises an eyebrow. "Is this...the kiss scene?"
You feel your cheeks redden, voice small. "Yes."
"Then you're in luck because who better to help you practice than the best kisser in all of New York?"
You snort. "Wow, I sure could use some of your expertise Good-Sir-Makes-Out-A-Lot."
"Then you're in the right place..." He runs his finger over the script, jabbing at one line in particular.
[Johnny and Baby kiss.]
"Let's start here, hm? For practice, obviously."
"For practice." Your eyes roll but your heart still beats a little faster as he closes the space between you, hand pressing into the wall so his sturdy body hovers over yours, hands instinctively pulling him closer by the collar.
"Come give me a kiss, m'lady..." Jungkook murmurs, but before he can tilt your chin up towards his lips there's a sudden series of frantic knocks at the front door.
"What the heck?"
You both jump out of your skin, Jungkook's eyes narrowing as he glances over his shoulder at the shadowy figure outside, fist pounding the glass fervently, like they're trying to break it down.
"Okay, damn, I'm coming!" He yells with a roll of his eyes. He wraps the blanket around your shoulders as he hops up from the couch with a sigh. "Probably just some dumb marketer again or something — dude, chill! I said I'm coming! — be right back."
The lock slides open and you hear Jungkook gasp. Your stomach drops. "Who is it?"
"Uh, Y/N..." You hear the door click shut and the sound of squeaky shoes shuffling inside. The anxiety in Jungkook's voice makes your heart skip. "You might wanna come see this."
"Huh?" Your legs feel shaky as you follow him out into the hall, chest seizing when you lay eyes on the dripping wet hair and chattering teeth of the shivering man stood before you, eyes dark and grave like they used to be.
"Taehyung?" You splutter, ripping the blanket from around your shoulders and swaddling him in it as quickly as you can, Jungkook already bounding into the other room to get dry clothes and towels after shooting you a terrified glance.
Taehyung grabs your shoulders and pulls you into a tight embrace. His cheeks are wet against your shoulder, but you can't tell if it's because he's been crying or because he's been out in the freezing cold rain — hold on, did he walk here?
"Y/N," He murmurs frantically, eyes darting back and forth but never quite focusing on anything. You knew this look. This is how he looked that day you found out about the accident. Murky, far far away. Devastatingly sad. Something wasn't right.
"What is it?" You ask, pulling him into the living room and sitting him on the couch before his shaking knees buckle beneath him. "What are you doing here, Tae?"
"It's...it's the Crestmont." He whispers.
"What about the Crestmont?" Jungkook appears behind Taehyung, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, but it's like your brother doesn't even feel it.
"They're tearing it down." He mumbles. "They're tearing down the Crestmont. Forever."
"Okay, now let's start from the beginning."
Jungkook's calm voice lilts from beside Taehyung who, after a warm shower and two cups of cocoa, has stopped shivering and seems to be ready to talk.
A hand reaches across the coffee table to tug on your wrist mid-lift to your mouth, a reminder from Jungkook to stop biting your nails. An old nervous habit you thought you'd left behind in Ocean City but apparently more than just Taehyung showed up here unannounced tonight.
"I...I got a call this morning." Taehyung begins, pausing to take a sip from the mug he cradles in his lap. His hands are shaking so he places it on the coffee table for safe keeping, right beside your discarded script. "It was from a construction company."
"And?" You prod, somewhat impatiently, making Taehyung jump.
"And apparently the owner of the theatre is behind on rent and...and..." He swallows hard. "And they're buying the rights to tear it down and build an apartment complex in its place."
"What?" Both you and Jungkook exclaim at the same time.
Jungkook's fists clench. "I always knew that old man was shady."
Taehyung fumbles in the pocket of the coat he arrived with, retrieving a brochure which he thrusts towards you.
The image on the front is of a metal skyscraper, far too shiny and new to belong in a seaside town like Ocean City. Fusion Apartments — modern living.
Jungkook rakes a hand through his hair, eyes sorrowful as you pass it over to him. "This sucks. Big time." He murmurs. "The Crestmont is the heart of Ocean City. How can they just bulldoze it like it means nothing?"
"That's why..." Taehyung swallows. "That's why I came here. I thought maybe you guys could help me, and we could do something before they—"
"We?" You furrow your brows. "You want us to help stop them from tearing down the Crestmont?"
"I mean yeah, I guess? I figured you guys would understand how important it is—"
You bite your lip. Taehyung flinches when you place a hand on his knee. "Tae. It seems like they've already got it figured out I mean...what can we do about it? The Crestmont has had a long run and maybe it's time for something new in Ocean City..."
"Y/N?" Jungkook warns, but there's a betrayal in his voice. How could you say that? It pains you, but you continue anyway. "What are you saying?"
"I just...I think it's time to let the Crestmont go."
Taehyung stands up so abruptly his mug smashes onto the marble tile.
"How could you?" He roars, but his bottom lip trembles. "The Crestmont is mom's place! It's all we have left of her in that fucking town and you want to just let them burn it to the ground?"
You tut, kneeling to pick up the broken pieces of china with a sharp glance at your brother. "For goodness sake, Taehyung. Mom isn't there anymore. She never was. She was always running off with some roadies and leaving us behind because she thought she was something special."
Taehyung scoffs. "What? Just like you?" He grabs the cocoa sodden script, crumpling it up in his shaking fist. "You are exactly the same as her. Running off to New York and leaving me behind to get your big break."
Jungkook steps forward warily. "Taehyung, you don't mean that—"
"Yes I do! If Y/N had just gotten in the car that day she wouldn't have died. It was all her fault. And now she's just gonna let them take what we have left of her."
"What?" Jungkook blinks.
Your stomach sinks. Is that really what Taehyung thinks? You wouldn't blame him. Deep down, his words strike a nerve. Because you know they're true.
Taehyung's eyes are hazy, unfocused. You reach for him dizzily, but he backs away into the hall.
"I shouldn't have come here." Taehyung whispers. He looks between you and Jungkook one last time before he's grabbing his coat and running down the steps to the first floor.
"Taehyung, wait!" You hear Jungkook's footsteps follow him out into the stairwell, but you're trapped on the ground, heaving for air.
Your hands shake as you pull yourself up to the window pane and watch Taehyung disappear into the gloom of the city, the sorrowful raindrops that lash against the glass mirroring the ones on your cheeks.
YOU: [CALL IGNORED]
YOU: please Tae
YOU: can we at least talk about this?
YOU: we're worried about you
It's been nearly 12 hours since you watched Taehyung disappear among the hustle and bustle of New York from your apartment window.
You and Jungkook were out all night searching for him. By the time you gave up the sun was rising and the birds were chirping and Jungkook somehow convinced your shivering form to return home to rest with a Taehyung shaped hole in your heart.
"It'll be okay. He'll be okay. He always is."
A phone call to your dad revealed he hadn't returned home that night; so where did he go exactly?
The weight of that question sits heavy in your chest as you sit backstage at the theatre, staring into your own vacant eyes in the dressing room mirror.
It's opening night. The show is due to start in fifteen minutes. Your lips are painted a deep shade of red, hair backcombed to perfection by one of the makeup artists. Beneath the harsh lights of the exposed bulbs that line the mirror, you look almost unrecognisable.
Confident, strong, successful.
Anyone would say your dreams had come true, or something sappy to that effect. But even as you sit among the hustle and bustle of the costume team and breathe in the fragrance of perfume and powder blush, you couldn't feel further away from the New York version of yourself if you tried.
Staring back at you is a reflection of the shy, terrified girl from Ocean City you worked so hard to forget. Yet here she is, mind whirring with worries for her brother instead of the lines she should be rehearsing to death before curtain call.
This should be your big moment. One which you will remember forever. But all you want to do right now is hold Taehyung close like you used to and tell him you're sorry and that you won't leave him again.
"Y/N!" You're snapped out of your thoughts by a familiar hand on your shoulder. You cover it with your own, instantly eased somewhat when you glance up and lock eyes with Jungkook in the mirror.
"Y/N, I found him."
"What?!" You jump to your feet, chair scraping obscenely. It draws the eyes of the people around you who quickly register Jungkook's polite smile as their cue to shuffle out of the dressing room and leave you two to talk. "Where is he? I need to talk to him—"
"He's not coming."
Jungkook sinks into the chair beside you, forehead creased. He runs a hand through his hair and momentarily you catch a glimpse of the old Jungkook. The Jungkook that always took care of his best friend Taehyung.
"I...I gave him a ticket for the show tonight and told him to come. To see how much this really means to you...but—"
Your finger nails press half moons into your palms. "But what, Kook?"
"He was already leaving for Ocean City."
A sob wracks your frame. "Do you think he hates me?"
Jungkook's arms engulf you before the first tear can roll down your cheek, his chin tucking perfectly into the cleft of your shoulder. "Of course not, he's just...he's hurting right now."
"I can't lose him — not like this, Kook..."
"Shh. It'll all be okay."
You jump back and start to pace. "But it's not okay! What he said last night is true!"
Jungkook sucks in a breath. "What?"
Your knees buckle and you crumple. You can hardly breathe, shame washing over you as you admit the truth for the first time.
"I caused the accident! I'm the reason my mom's...she's..."
Jungkook wraps his arm around your shoulder, voice soothing. "What are you talking about?"
"The night of the accident she got a call from some big buck director. She was cast in this huge movie. Her big break." You're speaking to fast, but Jungkook nods to tell you he's listening.
"So she told Taehyung and I we were leaving for New York that night. And we were packing our bags before my dad got home and...and I said I wasn't coming. I didn't wanna leave Ocean City behind."
"I kicked and cried and said I didn't want to go, so her and Taehyung took off by themselves and that's when they got into the crash. She was upset and going too fast. It was all because of me." You start to sob. You've never admitted this to anyone before. Not even yourself. It tears your heart in two to say it out loud. "I'm the reason Taehyung's broken."
"You can't think like that." Jungkook clasps your face in his hands, thumb wiping away a stray tear. He looks scared, but his voice stays calm and convincing. "What happened was an accident. You were a kid. None of this is your fault."
"That's why Taehyung must hate me so much." You choke. "I'm doing what mom always wanted to, but she never had the chance because of me."
"Y/N?" A crew member steps into the room awkwardly with a cough. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the show is about to start. The audience is getting restless."
"Go. I'll take care of Taehyung, okay?" Jungkook pulls you to your feet, engulfing you in a final hug before he pushes you towards the stage entrance at the small of your back. "You're needed out there. Show them what you're made of."
Your eyes widen. This can't be happening. Not now.
"You can." Jungkook grabs your face and captures your lips, hard. It tastes salty with tears. "You're my star remember?"
"I love you." You whisper when you pull back, fingers reaching for him weakly as a costume designer hurries you towards the door.
"I love you too." Jungkook calls. His smile is the last thing you see before the door slams shut and there's no going back. "Now go break a leg, pretty!"
Particles of dust float in and out of your vision beneath the blinding stage lights.
Everything feels different from side stage. Your heart races as you press your ear to the velvet curtain separating you from the world, listening to the hubbub of laughing children and chattering adults filtering into the theatre. You imagine them taking their seats, buying icecream from the vendors, alive with anticipation.
The lights dim. You hear the director behind you, shouting something about places please! but it's like you're underwater, limbs weighted as you move like a ghost to your position for the opening number.
Your palms are clammy and you wipe them on your dress.
Show starting in 5...
Your legs turn to jelly. You close your eyes and try to calm your racing thoughts.
Taehyung. Is he okay? Why didn't he come tonight?
Shit! What was your opening line again? Goddamnit, Y/N, think!
Mom. Would she be proud?
You open your eyes.
The curtain is gone, and a pair of hands pushes you out into the harsh white spotlight. You shield your eyes with your fingers, heart dropping when you look up and find hundreds of eyes staring. Staring right at you.
It's like you're on the edge of a cliff, about to dive into the cool water below. Or fall.
Everything starts to blur. You're a teenager again, stood on the stage at the Crestmont. Panic rises like bile in your throat, and you don't know whether to scream or to run.
Run. Run. Run.
Your mouth opens, then closes. There's an awkward cough from the audience. Words run your mind in circles, but none of them are right, and before they can reach your lips they evaporate on your tongue.
Your panicked eyes roam the sea of seats that zoom in and out of focus. Your knees buckle, and you're sure you are going to pass out right here in front of everyone, but then your eyes meet a familiar pair of brown ones that makes the room stop spinning for a moment.
Jungkook. He's smiling at you, fingers crossed in his lap. There's not a trace of nerves in his gaze as he nods for you to go ahead.
I believe in you.
Just then the door to the theatre flies open and every head in the audience turns towards the darkly clothed figure shuffling through the aisles, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's until he reaches the empty seat beside your boyfriend.
He lets down his hood, shakes free a head of blonde hair that's still damp from the rain. He's out of breath, like he ran here.
Your brother looks up at you, frozen in place, and his eyes soften. He flashes you a thumbs up and his lips curl around the four words you needed to hear.
You can do this.
And just like that, the panic disappears. The words come flooding back, and your body flies into action, moving across the stage
You forget all about the fear, and the anxiety, and Taehyung and the Crestmont. For now it's just you and the stage, together in harmony.
And you've never felt more alive than when you take your final bow and the crowd roars to life, just like you always imagined it would.
Your jaw hurts from smiling, and before you know it you're crying. Because when you squint against the theatre lights, you see Taehyung and Jungkook in the front row, holding each other and shouting your name.
Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!
"Hey! Be careful!"
The bouquet of congratulatory geraniums cradled in your arms gets crushed between your body and your brother's. He practically tackled you as soon as you entered the dressing room, carried on the cheering shoulders of the other cast and crew members.
"Holy shit." Taehyung holds you at arms length. His eyes are ringed red around the edges. "You were amazing, Y/N."
"You really think so?" Tears start to well and you're so happy to see him that you throw your arms around his waist. "I'm so glad you came, Tae."
"Yeah. You were just like her." He smiles. "Just like mom."
You share a small, sad smile. You've heard those words all your life but it feels different when it comes from Taehyung.
Jungkook pops his head into the room. He catches your eye over Taehyung's shoulder, and flashes you a small smile when he sees you cradling him in your arms.
Talk to him. He mouths, and you're suddenly reminded of why Taehyung came here in the first place.
You both start to talk, bursting into easy laughter when the other stops, seemingly hit with the same idea at the same time.
"You go first." You smile, encouragingly.
"Okay." He pulls you over to the couch. "I'm just...I'm sorry for storming out last night. I shouldn't have come here and expected you to help me—"
"No, stop. I'm sorry." You place a hand over his. "I want to help." You hold an arm out to Jungkook, who crosses the room and slides his hand into yours. "We want to help. We want to save the Crestmont."
Taehyung's eyes bulge. His voice drops to a whisper. "Really?"
"You were right. The Crestmont was mom's place."
You think about how it felt to be out there on the stage, in front of a crowd cheering your name. The excitement, the exhilaration. Your first stage.
The Crestmont is your mom's first stage. It's where she felt those same emotions for the first time. You can't let it be demolished. Not for anything.
"She deserves a legacy. We can't let them tear it down. I don't know how yet, but we'll save it."
"Thank you." A tear streaks his cheek, and his arms pull you and Jungkook into a tight bear hug.
"Thank you. For showing me what really matters, Tae." You whisper. "Let's do this together, okay?"
Taehyung holds out his pinky finger, and you link yours with his.
Where things go wrong.
Six months later.
Every second that passes is marked by a deafening tick from the kitchen clock.
Jungkook was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago. You're sat alone at the dinner table, a carefully presented meal for two spread across your mom's old polka dot table cloth. You even lit candles.
With a sigh you drop your chin into your hand, absentmindedly pushing your spaghetti around the dish while your eyes remain trained to the front door that will open any moment.
To be honest, it's been months since you and Jungkook shared a meal together. He spends most of his nights in his office, hunched over his laptop staring at the blinking cursor on some script he'll never finish. And ever since Jungkook's big script got rejected and he fell into a slump of no work, he had to get a job at a local convenience store all day for some spare cash to get you through the month.
You know he hates it. He hates the rude customers and how he can never shower the smell of grease out of his hair.
You know the bickering that turned into arguing that turned into fighting was just a result of his restless aggravation at being shot down too many times. Of watching his dream slip right through his fingers.
But you haven't exactly been as understanding as you should have been. You're overworked too, with the play, and The Crestmont, and you hate how easy it was to accept sleeping apart and missing dinner dates.
So you texted him to tell him you were making dinner tonight. A cease fire of sorts, or maybe just a feeble attempt at glueing back together the cracks that have appeared between you recently with pasta sauce and meatballs.
But he's late. Again.
And it makes you wonder whether there was any point in trying.
A gravelly voice jolts you out of your thoughts. Keys jangle onto the counter, shoes are slipped from feet and thrown into the storage cupboard with the creaky door.
"I'm in here." Your voice sounds meek, but you straighten and muster up a smile. To show at least one of you is making an effort.
Jungkook appears in the doorway, clad in his ugly traffic cone orange uniform. His shoulders are slumped, bangs limply stuck to his forehead. He looks tired, exhausted.
"What's all this?" He nods disinterestedly towards your untouched homemade buffet before heading to the sink to fix himself a glass of water.
"Dinner." You cough. He stiffens. "Remember?"
"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck. His eyes flash with something close to guilt momentarily, but then he smoothes it out. "Yeah. Dinner."
"It's okay, you're not too late. We can just heat this up in the microwave—"
"I already ate, Y/N." The glass in his hand slams onto the counter a little too loudly. "At the store."
You can't hide the way your face drops.
"Please." You whisper. "For me?"
Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, unblinking, before he exhales shakily and pulls out the seat opposite you.
"What's on the menu?" He asks, hands already grabbing for the bottle of red wine in the middle of the table without so much as a glance at the food you worked so hard to prepare.
An uncomfortable silence settles. Jungkook nibbles at a meatball, and you suddenly feel too sick to the stomach to keep anything down.
You jump when Jungkook's fork clatters to the table. He wipes pasta sauce from the corners of his mouth with a napkin and you're sure you can see a slight tremor in his grasp.
"There's something I need to tell you."
His words ring out into the deafening silence that shrouds the apartment. You train your eyes to the candle in the middle of the table that flickers back and forth and carefully place down your own cutlery.
"Should I be worried?"
"No...I mean, I don't know. Maybe." Jungkook waves his hands around and when his eyes meet yours they're distant. Like the table that separates you spans oceans. "Just promise not to freak out."
"I'm not promising anything. Why are you looking at me like that?"
He shifts and the cheap flat pack dining chairs you bought when you moved in creak like they always do. "I...I got a movie deal. They loved the script I told them I've been working on and they want me to direct it."
Your heart fills with something sweet; pride. Even despite your downs recently this is still incredible news. You knew your boyfriend should be ecstatic...so why is he staring intently at the table cloth like it killed his whole family? "That's awesome, Kook. So what's the problem?"
"I gave them a different script."
Something shifts in the air. You hold your breath.
"The script. The one you told me to burn before we came to New York. The one about you...your life."
Your blood runs cold and it's like your frozen. Just searching through the never ending blackness behind Jungkook's eyes that fails to falter, no matter how hard you pinch your inner thigh and hope you're about to wake up from a bad dream.
"You wouldn't." Your voice sounds strained and Jungkook doesn't even flinch. "You...I don't believe you."
"I'm sorry." He runs an exasperated hand through his hair. "It's just that they hated the first one and I wanted this deal so bad. It's a once in a lifetime chance Y/N, don't you see?"
The boy staring back at you isn't the sweet and sensitive Jungkook from Ocean City or the strong and passionate man from New York. His words get all mixed up in your head as you repeat them over and over and it's as if you don't even know him at all. All you can feel now is betrayal. And just like that all the anger that has been building inside you for months explodes.
"So my life is just a fucking plot for one of your indie movies, Jungkook?"
"It's always your life isn't it? Never mine." He slams his hands on the table hard enough to make your insides shake. "Ever since we came to New York I've supported you, sat back and watched as you achieved all your dreams. And it hurts, Y/N. To come home from my dead end job, and write another goddamn script that nobody wants to even read."
"I came to New York because of you!" You don't even realise you're crying until you taste the hot salty tears that won't seem to stop. "I came here so you could make it big! You're the one who encouraged me to audition for the play in the first place!"
"God, are you really that naive? Don't you see? I came to New York because I saw how much it meant to you." Jungkook lowers his voice, and there's something in his words that makes your heart twist. Pain. His eyes look watery and you long to reach out for him. Like the skin on skin contact will somehow make all of this okay. "And not once have you ever considered how it might feel for me to sit back in your shadow."
"So that's what this is? Jealousy?" You shake your head and get up from the table and turn to leave, but Jungkook grasps your wrist.
"Why can't you be happy for me?"
"I am happy for you Jungkook. And I always will be." Your heart softens and you're reminded of the boyfriend you know. The boyfriend you love. You want to believe he's in there somewhere so you place your hand over his, and for a second he looks hopeful. "But this was never your story to tell. That's what hurts."
He drops your arm, gaze cold and distant. "Then I guess that's it then."
The room starts to spin.
"If you can't accept my decision to go ahead with the project then I guess we can't do this anymore."
"This?" You whisper.
"Jungkook...Are you saying we're over?"
He drops his head into his hands and lets out a sigh. "Maybe. I don't know."
"You don't know?" You chuckle but it's hollow, empty. "You don't know if you love me any more?"
Jungkook's face drops and he lurches towards you, but you step back.
"No, shit Y/N I didn't mean it like that!" He looks scared. "I was just angry and it slipped out."
"Don't." His arms reach for you again but the brush of his fingertips feels scalding hot, wrong. "Don't fucking touch me."
"Don't lie to me Jungkook." Your vision is blurred with tears as you rip open the closet and yank out a suitcase. "You're not sorry. I was never your muse. I was just a stepping stool to the top."
"Where are you going?" Jungkook's crying now too. It comes out as a sob.
"Home." You say as you rip open your shared closet door and start throwing your things into the case. "I'm going home. Where I belong."
"I can't lose you like this. Please." He reaches for your wrist again but you're already half way to the door.
"Too late." You say. "I'm going home. And I'm never coming back."
The familiar scent of burned popcorn and candyfloss soothes you as you creep through the backdoor of the Crestmont. It always had a broken hinge which opened just enough for a body to squeeze through. Seems not a lot has changed since you left Ocean City.
It's dark inside. Silent too, without the popcorn machine running and the movie trailers playing on LED screens. You don't know what you expected. It's gone midnight by the time you get back to Ocean City, but you don't want to go home just yet.
Comfort washes over you as you run your fingers over the gilded edges of the counter, and slip beneath the hatch on auto pilot. It feels strange to be back here without the starched shirt and bow tie you used to hate. You've swapped out worn sneakers for heels that click against the tiles and you've performed on stages for crowd's bigger than the Crestmont's but here and now, you feel like yourself. Even though everything in your life has changed, you're still the same small town girl underneath it all.
Without thinking your legs carry you to the wall of fame. The faces smile up at you, like they're saying welcome back.
"Hey mom," You whisper, stopping momentarily in front of her portrait. You stared at it for so long as a kid that you have every detail committed to memory but seeing it up this close makes your breath hitch. "It's me."
With a sigh you force yourself past into the hall. Your hands tremble as you push open the door to the theatre. It's just how you remember it, sparkling gold and red velvet and mystery. But there's yellow tape strung up across all the seats and a sign has been propped up on the stage, red glaring letters burning a hole in your heart as you read them.
DANGER. DUE FOR DEMOLISHMENT. STAY AWAY.
All you can do is let your legs buckle, back sliding down the wall as you hug your knees to your chest and let out a throaty sob that echoes from the high ceiling.
When did everything go so wrong? You must be cursed. Everything you touch gets destroyed.
The lights flicker on, bathing the room in a soft golden glow. You wipe your tears, but that doesn't stop them from coming.
Your voice is small but a few seconds later Taehyung's face appears from behind one of the velvet seats. His eyes soften when he sees you curled up in the corner.
"What are you doing down here?" He clambers over the seat to join you, his long legs folded awkwardly in the small space.
"Having a one man party." You snort and point to your tear stained cheeks.
"Are you okay?" His hand covers yours and the contact makes you jump.
"Yes..." You sniff. He raises a brow. "No. Jungkook broke up with me."
Taehyung chokes. "What?!"
"I mean, we fought and then he...he said we were over." Your heart stabs painfully but you shrug. "So I came here. Didn't know where else to go."
He places an encouraging hand on your shoulder. "Listen...I know I haven't always been there for you when I should've. Hell, you always took care of me and I never even asked how you were doing." He offers a small smile. "But I'm here now. And you can tell me anything. If...if you want to."
A few seconds tick by in silence. You try to form a sentence but everything just comes back to the same three words.
"I miss mom." You blurt.
It echoes through the theatre, and you can practically hear the mermaids and the cupids painted on the ceiling gasp. It surprises you too, the combination of grief and relief that washes over you at finally admitting it.
"I know." Taehyung pulls you into his chest, lips whispering against your hair as you let out a sob and it's like all the sadness and denial is rushing out of you like a faucet, filling the whole room up like a water tank. You're terrified of the moment it gets too full, and you stop being able to breathe. "But you're a lot like her, y'know."
"That's exactly the problem!" Your words come out as a yell and it makes you both jump. "Everyone always says I look like her, I talk like her, I act like her. And I hated it for the longest time because I hated her for leaving us!"
"But without even realising it I became her, Tae. I did what I always said I wouldn't and became selfish. I hurt you, and Jungkook and even the Crestmont."
"That's not true."
"It is! And the worst part is I don't even hate her any more. I need her. To hold me, and tell me it's going to be alright. But she isn't here!"
"What does this have to do with Jungkook?"
"Jungkook wrote a script. A long time ago. About mom. And you and I. And everything that happened." You swallow, Taehyung's eyebrow raises though he doesn't look at all surprised by this information, nor as horrified as you that a record of your bleak shortcomings exists for anyone to read. "He got a movie deal. That's why we fought."
Taehyung hums. "You don't want him to make the movie?"
"It's not that I...I want to be happy for him. But I can't." You choke. "It's too painful. Remembering."
"When I said you were a lot like mom, I meant that you are headstrong." Taehyung pauses. "I felt that way once too. Like I hated mom and the goddamn world for taking her too soon. But in the end, the only person I hated was myself. Like however hard I tried I could never get over her, and all the pain I was pushing down into a dark place kept taunting me through the nightmares." He shivers, and you grip his hand tighter. "But one day I realised I don't have to be afraid of that pain any more. That pain is a part of me. But that doesn't mean I have to let it win."
"So what did you do?"
"I let myself feel it . I faced it. The only way I could let mom go was to stop running away." He pats your shoulder. "You need to set the girl in that script free, so you can move on."
And just like that, you're swimming...up, up, up, until you reach the surface of the water tank and you can take a heaving breath for the first time.
You throw your arms around his neck. It feels weird to hug him like this, but it's nice. "I missed you, Tae. Thank you.”
"I didn't do anything." He says. "The strength is inside you, you just need to find it. Just like you need to stop holding on to the past and let the new you shine for once."
You shake your head. "I need to talk to Jungkook. I don't know why I stormed off like that and..." You trail off. "Wait, how did you know I was here?"
Taehyung grins. "I didn't. I got called in to sort some paperwork and I noticed the back door ajar. Good thing it was you and not some crazy with a baseball bat, right?"
"At this time?" You nod to his still pyjama clad state. "Is it important?"
"Y/N," He laughs lightly. There's excitement shining in his eyes. "Someone just bought the Crestmont."
You scramble to your knees. "What?"
"We're staying open, and I get to keep my job."
And then you're hugging again, and laughing and crying because the Crestmont is going to be okay. You're going to be okay.
"That's incredible, Tae! Who is it? Who bought the Crestmont?"
"I don't know, it was an anonymous transaction. But the guy said he would be here...." He glances at his wrist watch, and as he does, the door creaks open. "Around now."
"Hello? Anyone here?" A familiar voice calls out.
"Jungkook?" Both of your jaws drop as you poke up from behind the seats. Sure enough your heart flutters when you see him, all wind swept and out of breath like he ran here.
"I thought you might be here." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can we talk?"
The car ride to the pier was mostly silent. Jungkook borrowed his dad's old beat up truck -- it was that or his old bike with the pegs on the back -- and it still smelled like leather and petrol like it used to.
Everything about Ocean City is the same as you remember it. The pier stands strong atop the rocky sand, sea air deliciously fresh as it fills your lungs. The rolling waves shimmer like gold dust below the wisps of pink clouds that greet the rising sun. The beach is a peaceful view at this time. No tourists, all of yesterdays sandcastles swallowed by the sea spray. It took a couple hours to work through the paperwork so by now it's early morning — 5:30am according to your phone lockscreen.
It's chilly, and your skin is covered with goose bumps even despite Jungkook's suede jacket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. But you don't mind.
You've missed this. You've missed Ocean City.
"No ice cream, I'm afraid." The breeze ruffles Jungkook's hair as he emerges from the fairground and settles beside you with his legs poking through the rails. He flashes you an apologetic smile. "I guess the parlour doesn't open until 9..."
You feel a pang in your chest. Being here is like a serious case of deja vu. Countless hours spent in this very spot, eating vanilla scoops with rainbow sprinkles beside Jungkook used to be so normal. When did you grow so far apart that you're surprised he even remembers?
"Jungkook..." You swallow hard when you meet his eyes, hands longing to reach out and stroke the stream of sunrise on his cheek that makes his dark eyes sparkle. "We...we need to talk. About everything."
There's a moment of silence filled only by the calls of seagulls greeting the morning before he speaks. "I sold the script."
He sounds nervous. Like he's not quite sure what your reaction will be.
You swallow. "And you used the money to buy the Crestmont?"
"Yeah." He says matter of factly, scratching a phantom itch at his nape. "I guess I did."
"Why?" Your voice is small.
"I can't loose you, Y/N." He murmurs. "Just like you can't loose your mom. The Crestmont was her everything. But you are mine. And loosing the Crestmont would be loosing a piece of you, and I couldn't stand that."
The breeze ruffles his hair as he reaches for your hand and links your fingers and squeezes hard. You don't make any move to stop him. You know what it means, so you squeeze back and return the sentiment. I'm sorry.
Before you can stop yourself you lurch forward, arms curling around his neck and it's like coming home. His hands pull you flush to his chest, hearts beating in sync and you know everything is going to be okay now.
"Thank you." You whisper against his nape. A tear rolls down your cheek and soaks into his collar and before you know it you're blubbering. "Thank you so much, Kook."
"You aren't mad?" His voice is muffled but you can hear the quirk of his brow.
"Mad? No..no..." You lean back and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. "But what about the movie? And your dream to be a director and--"
Jungkook grabs your shoulders. His own eyes are glassy as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
"That was never what mattered to me, Y/N. Not even a little bit. There's one reason I went to New York and it's the same reason I came back to Ocean City tonight. You."
"No but's. As long as we're together, I'm already living my dream." His lips turn up into a smile, his eyes tracing your face like it's the first time and he can't get enough. "And I never ever want to wake up."
You shift in your spot to face him properly for the first time, and emotion hits you like a tidal wave. It's like all of a sudden you realize how stupid you've been; to fight with the man before you, a man who only knows kindness, about the trivial when the things that mattered the most were always right here, in front of you. The things that mattered most were always in Ocean City.
You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean up so your lips are inches apart. His eyes fall shut naturally, and you can't help but laugh with what you can only describe as one thing: happiness.
"I love you." You whisper against his lips. A warm palm cups your jaw and closes the distance between them and you're almost too lost in the way Jungkook's kiss takes your breath away to hear his response.
"I love you too."
"Sooo..." You bite your lip with a coy smile when Jungkook pulls away, the blush upon his cheeks scarlet beneath the sun which is rapidly rising. "I take it we're no longer broken up?"
"Well duh," He swats you playfully. "You think I'd do all this just to dump your ass?"
"Hey!" You pout. "I dumped your ass."
Jungkook shakes his head with a laugh.
"Besides," He glances out over the horizon nonchalantly and shrugs. "I'm gonna need help if I'm gonna start my own film company and run the Crestmont."
Your jaw drops. "A what now?"
"A film company." He explains. "A different type of film company, right here in Ocean City. For the outcasts like me who have a vision that even the biggest names in New York can't see yet." He smiles, so big and bright it makes your heart leap. "I'm gonna show them, Y/N. And everything I need to do it is right here in Ocean City."
"I know you will. I never doubted you for a second." You take his hand and link your fingers, squeezing hard. "And you bet your ass I'll be front row to watch each and every one, Jeon Jungkook."
"Just keep your eyes shut!"
"I already know where we're going, so why can't I look?" You laugh, attempting and failing to tug Jungkook's interlocked fingers away from your eyes.
"Shush, it's a surprise! Just roll with it."
A surprise. That's what Jungkook said earlier too when he woke you up at the crack of dawn by throwing a dress at your head and telling you to meet him outside in the truck in 10 minutes or else.
By the time you pulled up into the familiar parking lot of your not-so-mysterious destination, the sky was already aflame with the glow of morning skimming the horizon, and Jungkook practically leapt out of the truck, palms unusually sweaty as he grasped your hand and pulled you towards the path quicker than your feet could carry you.
"What's the hurry, Kook?" You get out between heavy breaths, quads burning as the path gets steeper beneath your feet.
Come to think of it, your boyfriend has been acting strangely all week. Like hiding things behind his back when you walk into a room or talking in hushed whispers on the phone to Taehyung when he thought you were sleeping.
"You'll see." The path levels out and you stop. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, chin tucked into the cleft of your shoulder like a perfect puzzle piece. "Okay. Now you can look."
You round the corner, heart racing when your eyes flutter open and your vision is filled with a sea of yellow flowers. Your place.
The meadow is just how you left it, tall grass and sunny blooms dancing beneath the rays of morning sun peeking out from between the clouds. A warmth spreads through your chest and you both laugh when Gureum lets out an excited yelp, before bounding off between the stems playfully.
"I think the little guy wants us to follow him." Jungkook raises a brow and throws you a knowing shrug.
Excitement flutters in your stomach like a butterfly trapped between cupped palms. "How could I refuse?"
Fingers interlinked, you part the sunflowers and jog after the ball off fluff bouncing across the meadow, the breeze cool and forgiving as it ruffles the strands of hair that billow behind you.
Eventually you reach the clearing, and Gureum wags his tail at you proudly when you stoop down to scratch him behind his ears.
The sun reflects in Jungkook's eyes, turning them a warm golden brown. "Turn around."
You spin on your heels with a questioning glance. "Why?" That's when you see it. The spot where everything began. The tree where Jungkook kissed you all those years ago has bloomed with fragrant blossoms, and twinkle lights glow like tiny stars around it's branches. A blanket is laid out in the sun flecked shade beneath it, littered with feather cushions and lanterns and a trail of sunflower petals that begin at your feet.
"You did this?" You take his chin in your palms, face beaming despite the tears that have started to blur your vision. "Oh, Kook."
"Surprise." He smiles knowingly, grabbing you from behind and spinning you round and round until you both land with a soft thump in the middle of the outdoor cushion fort. "You haven't even seen the best part yet." He says with a nod to his right.
It's then that you notice the white sheet that's strung up a couple meters away between the trunks of two trees, Jungkook's vintage projector set up in front of it.
"What is this?" You ask, bewilderment evident in your voice.
"Gureum, would you do the honours?" Jungkook chuckles, extending a finger to point at a remote that your puppy obediently picks up with his teeth and drops into your lap with a wag of his tail.
Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and takes a deep breath, like he's been waiting for this moment for a long time. "Go ahead. Press play and find out."
Your head shakes fondly, but your fingers tremble with anticipation as they find the PLAY button. You press it and the projector starts turning, a light flicking on at the top that makes a grainy image appear on the sheet.
The first scene is you. A teenager, dancing through the sunflower field, laughter spilling from your lips. The first time you hung out. And then it switches. You, again. Cleaning up a spill at the Crestmont, unaware of the camera. You. Paint in your hair as Jungkook chases you around the apartment in New York. You. Tears in your eyes as you hold baby Gureum for the first time. You. Asleep on Jungkook's shoulder on the subway, the camera panning to his face which lights up in a big grin, lips mouthing three words.
I love you.
Tears are hot on your cheeks, laughing as you remember the good moments and the bad, the funny and the sad, all immortalized forever through Jungkook's eyes.
The film fades out, and you throw your arms around your boyfriends neck. He chuckles when you tackle him to the ground, throwing a leg over his lap so that you can lean down and capture his lips between yours in a kiss that says all the words you want to say but you don't know how to. I love you too.
"I take it you liked it, then?" Jungkook says coyly, thumb stroking your cheek.
"It was beautiful Jungkook." You place your hand over his. "Now I know why you're always goddamn filming me."
"What can I say? You're my muse."
"Shut up." You punch him playfully. "You're gonna make me blush."
It's Jungkook's cheeks that flush pink. "Actually..." He starts to sit up, fumbling around in his back pocket. "There's something else."
He clears his throat. "The first time we came to this place I knew I loved you. Back then, I said I wanted to show you what I found most beautiful. And it was you. It's always been you." He takes your hand, grip tight. "When we met we were just kids with big dreams. We might be older now but heck -- I still don't know what I'm doing. All I know is dreams come and go but you never left. You always stayed by my side. Which is why I want to promise you something."
"What, Kook?" You manage to whisper. Your heart is beating a million miles a minute in your ears. Is this what you think it is?
Jungkook swallows hard, eyes boring into yours.
"That I'll go wherever you go. New York, across oceans, up mountains -- you name it. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. So that's why I wanted to ask..." His fingers tremble as he produces a tiny black box, flicking it open to reveal a ring that sparkles see through in the sun. "Y/N, will you marry me?"
"Oh Jungkook," You throw your arms around his neck, overcome with emotion now as you capture his lips with your own. "Of course I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask."
He lets out a sigh of relief, and then he's spinning you around in circles until you're both dizzy with love and belly laughter.
"I love you." He whispers, eyes shiny. His hand gently grasps your wrist as he slides the ring onto your finger.
You've heard him say it a hundred times before, but this time it's different. This time it's forever. Your heart flutters.
"I love you too, Kook."
Where there are new beginnings
Ocean City is the same as it always was.
You wake up each morning to the distant crash or waves, and you fall asleep each night to the tinkling fairground music that makes your heart sing. Tourists come and go, flooding the casinos and eating churros on the beach.
The Crestmont is doing better than ever. Once Taehyung took over as owner, the theatre became the heart of the city, attracting visitors from near and far to see the renowned plays directed by none other than Jeon Jungkook, the most sought after playwright and filmographer in all of the East Coast.
And then there's you. Ever since you starred in one of Jungkook's plays, about a girl from a seaside city moving to New York with big dreams, there's been no shortage of movie deals and acting opportunities thrown your way.
But in the end, you always find yourself coming back to Ocean City.
Tonight the Crestmont reopens for business after some much needed renovations. Taehyung is throwing a party, and there will be plenty of big Hollywood faces attending to see the brand new theatre and the updated __.
But one thing will always remain the same. The picture of your mom hung in the gallery. Her big smile is the heart of the Crestmont, greeting each and every visitor with pride.
And in the empty frame at the end of the wall of fame, there's a new picture.
You. Smiling, with your hair over one shoulder, just how you imagined. And beside you is Jungkook, with his arm wrapped around your waist and Taehyung holding Gureum and making a silly peace sign behind your head.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
Okay so hi if you’re still here!! I decided to put this at the end because I didn’t wanna spoil the ending so please send love to @brekkiejeon !! They sent me the request for the ending of this fic all the way back in January and i’m trash and took like 7 months to finish writing it so i hope you enjoyed it even so lovely !!! <3 thank you for the request and sorry for the wait, this one really got me creative lol!
Also I’d like to dedicate the smut in this fic to @atastefulwonderland because I know you love some good ole JK loving!! Hehe, ily~~
Also lemme know if this was bad because I never usually give OC so much backstory because I want it to be as relatable to the reader as poss obvi but these characters wrote themselves lmao like i’m just the writer i had no control okay???? I just do what these mfkers say. LOL.
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kim taehyung, a real food enthusiast 😋
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god he’s so fine
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i love you, kim namjoon <3 belated happy birthday !
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to know you is to love you (m) | j.jk. | one-shot
cheri cheri lady by modern talking
higher by clean bandit ft. iann dior
pairing: jungkook x reader
rating: m (18+)
genre: humor | smut | slight angst | vampire!reader | changeling-fae!jungkook | fantasy!au | strangers to enemies to lovers!au
summary: If going on a bloodthirst-fueled rampage and ravaging almost half the city when you are a whole adult vampire of three-plus centuries was somewhat embarrassing, being on the run from the Supernatural Interpol is making you want to walk into a field of garlic and asphyxiate to death out of mortification. So it should be quite understood why this sudden meeting with a creature you’ve only heard myths about, in a dingy freaking hiding place, is shaping up to be the most humiliating moment of your life.
It doesn’t help that he’s handsome as hell. Or that every other sentence out of his mouth is a freaking line. Or that he has decided to accompany you on your absconding adventures. Or… that you’re actually kinda okay with it?
Yeah, you’re massively screwed.
warnings: swearing + mentions of blood, gore, violence + consumption of blood + near death experiences + explicit sexual situations (oral (f), unprotected penetrative sex, dirty talk, humping, hair-pulling, slight blood play, softdom!jk, switch!reader, slight choking, multiple orgasms) + sex under the influence of aphrodisiac + parental issues + open-ish happy ending? i think? + centuries old-ass ppl looking in their 20s bec this is fantasy!
word count: 21.3 k
note: first and foremost, lemme express the biggest and the FATTEST gratitude to @missgeniality who beta-read this mess and turned it into a proper fic. she basically co-wrote this with me, y’all, i would’ve ended up with lumps of aggravated characters doing uncharacteristic shit and basically making zero sense if it wasn’t for her! thank you so much, soya baby. you brought a lost wandering soul to the shore, i would’ve drowned without your help. i love you so much. 🥺❤
writing this has been somewhat of a hard journey for some reason but i finished this up before time so there’s also that satisfaction. also added in a second unplanned smut. kinda wish i’d done better with the ending, but siya waved a green flag so i stopped overthinking it!
lastly, thank you for hosting and expertly coordinating this amazing fest, sol! i loved participating in this it so much! this is my first ever time blending fantasy genre into fanfics (i have an og novel in the making ft. a genie heuheu) and i think i’m gonna dabble in it more often because i loved creating changeling!jk! hope y’all enjoy reading~ 🥺💜
↣ written for the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade collab, hosted by @jamaisjoons
↦ CROSS-POSTED ON AO3
— feedback is always appreciated!
You scrunch your nose, lifting your leg up to dodge another rat that scurries across the grimy floor.
"Fucking gremlin," you grumble, mad at yourself for not having the palate for rodent blood because you could really have a feast here with all the creatures running around.
But because you don't, it's all just gross.
This abandoned construction site might not be the most ideal place to rest, but it's been eight days since you last slept and your energy levels have hit an all time low due to the lack of proper nutrition in you.
You're running acutely short on blood supplies after everything. Well, what else did you expect after that stunt you pulled in that small town of Italy? Why did you have to lose control like that? Sure, you were devastated by the news of the Supernatural Interpol unjustly putting one of your closest and oldest friends behind the bars, but did you really have to pop off like that? Without thinking of the goddamned consequences? You really sucked blood—and as a result, the life—out of more than five hundred people in a fury.
Talk about being an embarrassment to the entirety of the Vampire species. It’s a wonder the Vampire President in the Supernatural Council hasn’t kicked you off the species, altogether.
He hasn’t, right?
You truly have no way of knowing, being on the run as you have been ever since the “incident.”
You sway as a wave of lightheadedness hits you. Crap, this is getting worse.
You desperately need nutrition and have absolutely no way of accessing it when Interpol has put a large, glaring mark on your back with the numerous warnings it has sent out. If you're lucky enough to find a town where your posters haven't been circulated yet, you end up being recognised at the blood banks.
You’re currently hiding in Homestead, Florida, absolutely clueless about how you’ve actually ended up here. You’ve been hitchhiking your way across the globe for two weeks now. Maybe the truck of mangoes you hopped into in Orlando landed you here? Or was it that ferry from Havana? You have no idea.
What you do know is that you need some good quality blood to feed on soon, or you’d spontaneously fall dead in the middle of the street, probably eaten away by the very rats you despise, and this entire hide and seek would be rendered pointless.
Your musings are suddenly interrupted by the crunch of footfalls coming from somewhere extremely close by.
You sigh in irritation, getting up from your hiding spot to peer past the thick slabs of concrete blocking your path. Who could be coming into a place as horrible as this on such a pleasant evening in a coastal town? You’d have been sipping coconut juice and fucking sunbathing on the beaches if Interpol wasn’t on your tail.
Have you been caught already?
Your feeding glands haven’t gone berserk over the smell of the individual, so it may not be, because Interpol consists strictly of human agents. That is not to say that there are no spies in the organisation that are creatures. Which is kinda worse – you’re in no state to dodge a manipulative spy biding his time until actual officials come in to arrest you.
Your life sucks.
Slinking along the wall as soundlessly as you can, you peer past the wall—
Only to jump back when your nose almost collides with a chest.
The guy screams in your face, jumping a foot back and causing a human-like adrenaline rush in your body by the suddenness of your actions.
“What the fuck, dude?” you scream back, falling back against the wall.
The guy finally calms down, a hand placed on his chest that is very obviously moving up and down, and—
Woah, a chest that is also very buff, wow.
The guy wears a full-sleeved, black and white striped, flowy shirt over a dark pair of jeans, both of which he seems to fill every single inch of. His neck is wide, too, and tapers into an admittedly really attractive face with sharp features and sparkling skin. His hair is dark and hangs over his forehead. You aren’t all that surprised by his good looks, because most of the supernatural creatures in the world are born with natural beauty.
What takes you aback are his eyes. You’ve never been one for metaphors but his eyes really shine like a pair of stars. There’s simply no other way to put it, even when you know that the stars in the sky are merely balls of gases—and they shine because they are dying.
This guy’s eyes, though. So fucking innocent and sparkling, it makes you wonder if he’s seeing the world for the first ever time. If he’s not the adult he looks to be but actually a hatchling that’s ventured out of his home for the first ever time.
He might be a tall guy, towering over your own above average height pretty easily, but you know of creatures that have six-feet tall babies. This one is too good-looking to be a Troll, though. Maybe some really giant species of Werewolf?
Said eyes narrow at you suddenly, snapping you out of your theories.
You turn your nose up, narrowing your eyes back. “Who the fuck are you? Why the heck are you here? Did you follow me?”
His lips part and close a couple of times before he finally formulates a question. “Why are you… what are you doing in such a creepy ass place by yourself, anyway?”
You lick your lips, alarmed at his question. Not a who are you but a why are you here, huh? Not a very natural direction to take a first time conversation into.
Does he know you? It isn’t that improbable. But it really just depends a lot on who he is.
“I have my reasons,” you haughtily respond, eyeing him up and down as if to measure him up. "Why are you here? Who are you?"
"I… could actually be whoever you want me to be."
God. Just when you were beginning to think of him as somewhat cute looking, he chooses to act like a sleaze-ball.
"Does that stupid fucking line actually ever work?"
His eyes widen to their previous doe-like state. "Wha—no. Not that it doesn't—I mean I haven't actually tried it, yet…huh. But! That wasn't a line – I meant it literally. I could be whoever. I'm a Changeling."
You blink. "You're a what now?"
He sighs as if your question is exasperating him. As if your question isn't perfectly fucking valid, because Changelings? God, they’re so rare they almost do not exist.
"I am part of the mythical Fae. We—"
"Are despicable little thieves that steal humans to take their place in their lives. Yeah, I know of you. I mean, I knew the folklore. I didn't know your kind actually existed.”
“Well… I wouldn't call us thieves. But even so, that is not part of my repertoire. I do not do the stealing part. I just go and live the life of the human that I am designated to. Our Queen does the decision making.”
He scrunches his nose up, looking a lot more like a young bunny than an adult Fae, and you have to blink to stop yourself from cooing at him. He is not adorable. The guy could actually be a spy from Interpol, disguising himself as a species you’re not wholly certain actually exists in the real world.
Everything about his presence here—his very existence, in fact—is so fucking fishy, it’d be highly inconvenient for you to find him adorable. Because adorable implies adoration. Which is literally a death sentence for someone like you, being in the runaway situation you are.
You give him a blank look, building protective walls high up around yourself as you try to indulge him.
“Is that right? Well, which crime committing human were you made to live as to be running into a place as dingy as this?"
He bites into his strikingly red lower lip, looking as sheepish as a toddler caught stealing candies.
There’s that adoration again!
You really need some fresh air. And a fresh fucking supply of blood.
"Uhm, well…" He keeps hesitating, opening his mouth and closing it, before he just resigns and shrugs his shoulders. “This isn’t because of a human.”
You squint at him, gasping a little when you make the connection. "No. Don't tell me you're—wow. So I'm not just meeting a real Changeling for the first time in all my three centuries of existence, but a Changeling on the run?"
He hisses, terrified eyes roving around as if to look for any lurkers. You almost laugh at his wariness.
"I am, but can you not announce it to the whole town?” He looks at you, appalled.
You roll your eyes, kicking yourself off the rough wall you were leaning against.
To look cool.
Not because you were close to fainting because of how weak your body felt.
“Hey, uh, are you okay?”
You sharply turn your head to glare at him. “I’m fine!” you snap with gritted teeth, placing one wobbly leg after another as you make your way across the open space to lean against a pillar.
Your eyes land on him again. He’s looking at you with a frown, looking, and you cannot believe it, concerned.
Holy fuck, how naive is this guy? Aren’t the Fae supposed to be fundamentally wicked? This dude obviously didn’t get the goddamned memo, because he looks about ready to cut a vein and feed you if need be.
The thought gives you a pause.
Does he know who you are?
You clear your throat.
“So, you committed a crime as a Changeling, huh? What does that even entail?”
He looks extremely uncomfortable by your question, feet shuffling and gaze straying from you, and you would pay closer attention if your vision wasn’t fucking swimming round and round like a goldfish in a fish tank.
“Shit! Are you okay?”
You blink at the feeling of a muscled chest against your back. Did you—
Did you almost fucking fall?
And the Changeling guy caught you? Like a lead of a fucking K-drama or some shit?
Holy fucking mortification!
You try to shrug him off, but the fast movement drags your energy down further and you pathetically sway in his arms, causing his grip to tighten on your shoulders. He peeks over the side to meet your barely open eyes.
“You look really close to passing out. Have you eaten?”
You exhale. So he doesn’t know what creature you are, because Vampires don’t eat, they fee—
“I mean, have you fed? That’s what you people call it, right?””
“How… did you know?”
“I’ve heard it from my very limited supply of Vampire pals, I gu—”
“No! How did you… know who I am?”
You woodenly pull yourself out of his grasp and fall into a lumpy heap onto the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. If this guy’s a spy from the Interpol, you’re done for. There’s nothing you can do to hide, run away or save yourself, now.
You start preparing the curse filled greeting you’re gonna give to your friend whose arrest instigated your angry rampage.
“Well… The freezingly cold waves coming off your body are a dead giveaway,” he says with a chuckle, stoppin when you flash him a look. “And, uh, your face is kinda plastered over every newspaper and TV news channel in the world.”
You gulp. His answer sounds…very pretty normal. If he really was a spy, wouldn’t he be laughing in your face and calling in his partners?
You’re about to open your mouth to ask him just that, when a crunch behind you two has you jolting and him freezing.
Your wary eyes meet his wide ones.
“Did you hear that?” he whispers and you give a nod.
If this guy has actually secretly called in his partners and is just putting on a show to confuse you, right now, he’s doing an amazing freaking job of it because his round, bambi-like eyes have you fully convinced he’s as much scared of being caught as you are.
You lick your chapped lips.
“Interpol?” you ask him, gritting your teeth.
His eyes widen further. “You think so?”
You give a hopeless shrug, resigning yourself to your fate, but he jumps into action.
“Shit, shit, shit! We have to get out of here!”
Within the next second, he’s tucking one arm each behind your shoulders and beneath your knees and lifting you off the ground like you weigh nothing.
“What the—what are you doing, you—”
You cut your protests off when faint whispers reach you. You look at his face inches away from you, blinking very slowly.
It registers then.
He said we.
He fucking self-invited himself to your globetrotting. What the fuck?
“Jungkook,” he suddenly says, stealthily walking down the place with you tucked against his chest. “My name.”
You belatedly recall how, in the folklores, Faes—least of all Changelings, whose entire life revolves around living as different people—are known for not sharing their actual names. Jungkook is probably an alias.
“Right.” You barely hold back a disbelieving snort, turning away from his really firm looking pectorals that your face was nearly resting on. “Jungkook. Hmm.”
He laughs, breaking into a slow jog as the two of you near the clearing that opens up onto the beach, and you wonder how strong this guy really is—he doesn’t have one fucking drop of sweat on his forehead, and his breathing is so even he can laugh with ease. You weren’t aware that the Fae came with muscular strengths of this extent.
But then again, you had never seen a Changeling before.
"And yes," he says, reading your thoughts like a children's book, "it is my real name," making you scrunch your eyebrows because wow this guy’s sharp.
“And you would be freely giving your name away to a Vampire on the run, because…?” You scoff.
He looks down at you with a soft smile, eyes sparkling. “Because I have no reason to lie to you.”
You have to stifle the gasp that his beauty pulls out of you, leaving you struggling to breathe even when he has looked away and is now walking up to a large boulder.
“Let’s rest for a bit and plan a strategy.”
You clear your throat when you’re lowered to the ground, your skin tingling in places he’s touched you and not exactly because of discomfort. At least, not the regular kind of discomfort. You belatedly nod at his suggestion.
You pause when it finally registers in your stupidly hormone-laden brain, immediately rounding up on him. “Plan a strategy? The fuck?”
Jungkook frowns at you. “Well, yeah? We cannot exactly run blindly—”
“Wait a second, back the fuck up – what’s with all the we? It’s you and I. Separately. You plan your strategy, and I will—”
Your head swims and you drop into the sand.
Jungkook sighs loudly, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I will plan my strategy and you will spontaneously drop dead, every five miles. Sounds good to me.”
You groan, shutting your eyes against the exhaustion seeping into your bones. “I… I will…”
“Oh my God, shut up!”
You feel Jungkook sit on the ground next to you, brushing your hair off your forehead. Your eyes flutter open to find him frowning at you. With concern. Fucking again.
“We’re going to a motel run by a friend. You should probably nap before you die from lack of energy, though.”
You simply shut your eyes, no strength left in you to put up a fight.
You know you’re going to be completely vulnerable like this – for someone to abduct, arrest or even kill you. But you cannot really do anything about it because your eyes are refusing to stay open. And if you cannot feed, only sleep will help your body save some energy to help you function further.
You still don’t fully trust this Changeling and are half convinced you’re gonna wake up inside a holding cell once you sleep. But you’re literally rendered absolutely helpless with not a single option to choose from when your body is shutting down the way it is.
You think of your friend at the Interpol’s jail, cursing him for being the cause of your current predicament.
And then you nod off.
You are awoken by the world shaking around you.
Your eyes open in a jolt, and you sit up, alarmed. Your breathing is a bit laboured, memories of the past few hours suddenly flooding your brain at breakneck speed and muddling the entirety of your head. And a tart, almost pungent smell has filled up the entirety of your lungs.
Wait, pungent smell?
Oh, no. You were right. You have been locked up.
With a sigh, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and then open them wider to actually try to make out your dark surroundings.
And then you stop short.
This isn’t a fucking lock-up, it’s a vehicle. A pickup van, to be precise. And you’re sitting among carts of pineapples.
So that was the smell!
Past the carts, Jungkook sits with his head leaning back against the wall of the van, eyes shut.
He really isn’t a spy, then, huh? Or maybe he is, and this is just him trying to gain your trust fully before he hands you over to the Interpol.
You narrow your eyes at him. But then your gaze is immediately drawn to the long, sinewy expanse of his exposed neck – and not for the reasons that would be expected of a starved vampire such as yourself.
You jerk your head to the side, frowning at yourself. The lack of energy is doing weird things to your head, apparently.
“Jungkook?” you call out, needing answers and explanations.
Jungkook doesn’t stir.
You prod at one of the carts with your foot, hoping it’d jostle him, but to no avail.
You eventually have to lift yourself off your comfortable position and crawl over to hold Jungkook’s knee and shake him awake.
He nearly jumps when he comes to, immediately freezing when his eyes meet yours.
Like an actually fucking deer caught in red fucking lights. Those bambi eyes, ugh.
"Where—" You break off when your voice breaks. Clearing your throat, you try again. "Where are we?"
Jungkook blinks. "The motel? I told you a friend of mine owns a motel, right? We're going there."
So you're absconding buddies now, huh?
You sigh, rubbing your hands together. The nap has helped you recharge some energy. Nowhere as close to actually feeding, but you won't spontaneously faint, now.
“What—what friend is it?”
You hope it isn’t a human. Spy or not, Jungkook has shown you kindness and helped you not die. It’d be mean of you to kill a friend of his, but you really won’t be able to hold yourself back from sucking the entirety of his blood out if you encounter a human in your current state.
"We're nearly there, you can see for yourself." Jungkook smirks, going back to being a little shit.
You exhale. You really can't deal with the whiplash with this guy.
"Jungkook, this is serious. If it's a human—"
"We're there!" he exclaims, cutting you off, and gets up to rap his hand against the van's cabin wall.
The vehicle comes to a stop.
Jungkook extends a hand towards you, eyebrows raised in expectation.
You're literally a runaway criminal.
What even is this guy?
You stand up on your own, ignoring his hand. “I can walk by myself,” you grumble, almost shouldering past him on your way out of the van.
You hear him sigh before he joins you on the sidewalk. The pickup van leaves in a whirr of dust, and you briefly wonder if the driver might have recognised you.
Well. No use pondering that now, though, because if he did recognise you, you’d definitely get to know in some way or the other.
“There,” Jungkook says with a nod in the direction of the only building in your vicinity that does not look ready to fall into shambles.
Around you is a neighbourhood that looks… abandoned, for the lack of a better word. The houses that line the sidewalk are mostly half debris, and the ones that do stand upright have paint, plaster and bricks chipping off the wall.
Your mouth falls open.
“Where the fuck are we?” you ask in wonder, falling into step with Jungkook. “If you’ve brought me here to murder me and bury the body in a desolate place like this, I’d like to remind you that I am a vampire that single-handedly killed more than—”
Jungkook whirls around before you can blink, both his palms coming up towards you – one grips the back of your head and the other presses up against your mouth. His wide eyes look at you in horror before looking around the two of you in a hurry. And you—
Well, you’re frozen. Your mouth is still open, and the sensation of his rough, warm palm against your soft, cold lips is...
Well, it’s something. Something really foreign and something not horrible.
Which is concerning.
You jump away from him, scrunching your nose and rubbing the back of your forearm against your lips.
“What the hell is your problem? The next time you touch me without permission, I will—”
“Oh my God—what the hell is your problem?” Jungkook cuts you off with a thunderous look on your face.
You stop short in surprise. He looks really mad, and putting aside the fact that he looks really handsome with his jaw clenched like that—which is actually a lot handsome because the guy is too freaking gorgeous to begin with—you’re surprised because the Fae are not known for their anger. They are cunning, evil and manipulative – they know how to twist people around their pinky fingers with ease. They do not have much need for anger with all those skills under the belt.
For the first time since you met the guy, you find yourself wondering if he actually even is a Fae the way he claimed to be. You have absolutely no way to know for sure, because you have never met a Changeling in your life.
While you’re still reeling, Jungkook goes on to lean closer to your face with a furious frown on his. “In what world is it a good idea for a runaway criminal to announce what they did on a megaphone?”
You scoff. “This place is literally abandoned, stop. And do not use that condescending tone with me ever again if you know what’s good for you.”
Jungkook steps away from you with his lips pursed. “And you don’t go around yelling about your crime if you know what’s good for you.”
You stare at him with your teeth and fists clenched, and he returns your glare with equal intensity.
A throat clears behind you. You swirl on your heels, already mapping out a route to sprint out of this place, and find yourself staring at an awfully good looking man in a loose-fitted shirt and baseball shorts. His hair is set in a perm, black strands falling gorgeously in his eyes.
He stands with one hand in a pocket and taps his chin with the index finger of the other. He squints between you and Jungkook, and you’ve taken a foot off the ground to duck behind Jungkook and run behind the row of abandoned houses when he speaks.
“Is this supposed to be some weird-ass foreplay between you two, or…?”
You pause with a leg raised in the air.
“Shut up, Tae,” Jungkook clicks his tongue and steps past you to gather the ‘Tae’ guy in a hug.
“Taehyung,” the guy introduces himself to you after they part.
You nod back in greeting, telling him your name. He smiles at that, heart shaped lips giving way to gorgeous, shapely teeth.
You exhale through your nose. At the innocent age of ninety-three years, when you dreamt of becoming famous someday, you certainly hadn’t been asking for this.
“I’m not gonna question why you’re with this guy – but I hope you don’t plan on sucking his blood,” Taehyung continues with a small smirk. “Fae blood is aphrodisiac.”
You roll your eyes. This guy is exactly what you’d expected Jungkook to be as a Fae. What is up with these people breaking all the stereotypes?
“Yes, I know. And no, I don’t. Jungkook is the one who has been… helping me,” you reluctantly admit, ignoring Jungkook’s blinding grin. “I’m just trying to hide from the Interpol and stay alive.”
“Staying alive for a Vampire means death for multiple others, ma’am.”
You roll your tongue into your cheek, stepping closer to Taehyung. He’s really attractive, and you hate everything all the more because of it.
“I’m not gonna kill your friend,” you say to him, “if he doesn’t try to sell me off to the enemy.”
Taehyung quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough.”
“Goddammit, cut it out, you two!” Jungkook suddenly waves an arm between you and Taehyung, visibly agitated. “No one is trying to kill anybody, everybody is just trying to survive here. Right?”
You glare at Taehyung and he smirks back.
“Right?” Jungkook snaps his fingers in front of your face.
You flinch, clicking your tongue. “Yeah, yeah. Right.”
“So that’s settled then. Great. Can we please go in now, Tae?”
“Come on,” Taehyung instructs you and Jungkook with a smile, walking towards the two-storied building which, now that you’re paying closer attention, definitely has some spell been cast over.
Is this Taehyung-guy a Witch? He’s definitely not human, according to your senses. But you cannot remember the last time you encountered a Witch, so you aren’t quite certain about the trace that your senses catch off of Taehyung.
The reception of the “motel” looks straight out of a 70s Hollywood movie. Rickety little counter whose wood is chipping away, a telephone that still works, ceiling fans that rotate so slow you can follow their movements, and green wooden panelling halfway up the walls.
“What kind of a creature are you?” you ask Taehyung as soon as he has stepped behind the counter.
He looks up in surprise. “Uh…”
You lean over the counter to squint at him. “Uh?”
His eyes dart to Jungkook, as if looking for some sort of reassurance. Jungkook snorts.
“She’s literally on the run from Interpol. Who’s she gonna report you to?”
Your eyes widen a bit. “Report? Are you on the run, too? Fuck, do you have a whole gaggle of runaways living with you, Jungkook?”
“No,” Taehyung answers with a small laugh. “To both of ’em. I’m actually an Omega Werewolf. My pack kicked me out because of some stuff. I am officially not allowed to be in this country. But this is a dead area only frequented by people on the run, so I’ve been living here, illegally.”
You hum in thought. “Are your Werewolf pals not able to smell you?”
Taehyung smirks a lecherous smirk that would definitely have you sweating if it wasn’t for your current health crisis, and gives a chuckle. “I have my ways of keeping my scent covered.”
Jungkook makes a disgusted noise. “And by that he means having so much sex with creatures of different species that he’s always covered in their smells.”
Your face twists. “Gross.”
“Yep. Extremely.” Jungkook shakes his head.
“What? She’s right, man. You stink. All the time.”
“You just hugged me—”
“I had to hold my breath—”
“Fucking enough—stop it, you two!” You raise both palms up, one in front of each of the guys.
“He started it!”
You gape at Taehyung. “Are you serious?”
“He’s the one who always starts and then pins it on me!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
“Hey, how about you do your damn job?” you snap at Taehyung. And then you turn around to glare at Jungkook. “And you. Get me a bed before I gut you.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, stepping up to the counter. “One room with two beds.”
Your head snaps to him. “One room?”
“You literally fainted on the beach. No way I’m letting you die alone in a room after working so hard to keep you alive.”
“Hmm. Here,” Taehyung announces, forwarding a key to Jungkook.
“Wait, for real? I don’t wanna room with—hey, Jungkook!”
You are left gaping after him when the guy walks away from you, down the corridor. You look at Taehyung, rolling your eyes when he shrugs.
You stomp your feet all the way down the hallway, to the room that happens to be on the ground floor itself.
The room itself leaves a lot to be desired – but it is definitely a giant upgrade from the construction site you’d been at, so you cannot complain. Two twin beds rest at a respectable distance from each other, separated by a table placed against the wall and their headboards. A single lamp sits on the table.
Jungkook switches off the wall-mounted light fixtures as soon as you enter the room and you move to turn the table lamp on.
“Do you feel okay, now?”
You blink at his question. “Uh, I guess. I shouldn’t be fainting anytime soon. I guess.”
“Sleeping and feeding are equivalent to you, then?”
You tilt your head in thought, slumping down on one of the beds. Jungkook occupies the other bed, crossing his legs as he sits facing you. You lean back on your arms.
“No, not exactly. Feeding is what gives us nutrition. Sleeping pushes our bodies to utilise that stored nutrition we have and convert it into energy to help us stay awake,” you try to explain, frowning. “Although, it’s been over a century since I last slept so I cannot recall the exact details.”
“Woah… so, like, your species would get thinner if you slept?”
You snort at his perspective. “I guess, yeah. We’re not supposed to sleep. It’s not a part of our way of life. We do not even actually sleep – it’s more like voluntarily passing out. Which is why Young Vampires find it hard to do it.”
Jungkook’s eyes widen progressively through your explanation. They look ready to pop out by the time you’re done talking.
You chuckle at his face, and—
And then you stop. What are you doing educating this strange creature—a species of the Fae, at that—about your species and smiling at him as if you’re friends?
You give yourself a metaphorical shake of head, ignoring his surprised response and the jokes he makes, focussing on removing your boots, instead. You settle against the headboard, listening to crickets chirping in the distance.
Then Jungkook clears his throat.
“We’ll have to move out very early in the morning.”
You frown without looking at him. “Any specific reasons?”
“Well, I cannot stay in a single place for long. They track me down within twelve hours.”
Your brows rose. “Since when did Interpol get so efficient?”
“Must be some new tech. Or recruits.” Jungkook laughs slightly awkwardly. “Well, anyway. We should rest for a few hours. I’ve already been in Homestead for over eight hours. We’ll have to leave in the next three.”
You do not question the “we” this time. Jungkook hasn’t done anything to make him suspicious, yet – other than being ridiculously un-Fae like what with all the selfless kindness he’s shown you.
At least you think it’s selfless.
But then, what would he even want from you? You literally have nothing to offer in return.
Maybe the Interpol has put some reward on your head?
You honestly have no idea.
Slipping in and out of consciousness, you lay on your side and try to recollect as much energy as you can. You can feel your body growing colder, though, and it scares you because this indicates that the stored energy in your body is giving out, too, faster than you anticipated.
You really need to feed.
In the midst of your shuffling around on the bed to get into a position that feels even remotely comfortable, you hear Jungkook sigh.
You halt all movement.
“Are you okay?”
You shut your eyes and exhale. What is with this guy trying to take care of you?
Nope. You are cold, nearing hypothermia by the feel of it – a huge fucking rarity when it comes to a Vampire, and an even huger concern for the same reason.
You don’t hear him get up or even walk over to your bed, but you feel the warmth of his palm on your elbow, barely holding back a hiss at the comfort it eludes.
“Holy shit, you’re frozen!”
“I’m a Vampire, genius—”
“No! This is ice cold, I…”
Jungkook tugs at your elbow and you sit up, refusing to meet his eyes even when he bends to catch your gaze.
“You’re not okay, are you?”
Your shoulders slump in defeat. “Well, no. I haven’t fed in over a week – my body has used up nearly all of the stored energy I had. I might collapse anytime. What of it?”
When you finally look up, you find Jungkook looking at you with a worried expression on his face. You gulp. He has no reason to be so concerned. Why can’t he behave like a normal Fae and stay aloof?
“Hey, stop frowning at me like—”
“You know… I could help you acquire blood if you want.”
You blink. “What?”
“I, uh…” He looks away, raking a hand through the back of his hair. “I could pull a few strings. If it’s that serious, I could help you get some blood. It’ll be risky, but you getting hypothermia would be riskier.”
You gulp, considering your options.
You would literally be handing your fate to Jungkook if you say yes. But then, you’re currently in a bedroom with him, in a hotel his friend owns – do you really have anything to lose, at this point?
You don’t think so.
You nod. “Okay. Do you have a plan?”
Jungkook licks his lower lip looking to the side in thought, and you almost choke on spit. He’s really fucking handsome and it’s really really fucking inconvenient.
Unaware of your state, he nods to himself after a moment. “I think so, yeah.”
You clear your throat and cuddle your knees to your chest. “Human friends?”
Jungkook smirks. “Have you forgotten who I am?”
He looks way too sexy for his own good like this, but you really shouldn’t be thinking about all of that right now, so you distract yourself by looking down at your hands. The tips of your nails are turning blueish. Fuck.
You blink up at Jungkook when he stands up.
“Obviously. You need to feed before you die, right?”
You roll your eyes but stand up. “I don't think I’ll be able to walk much.”
“That’s fine, we’re not going far.”
You follow Jungkook out of the room and past a dozing Taehyung as the two of you exit the hotel. The sky is midnight blue, stars sparkling across its vastness.
The neighborhood looks almost spooky when you walk down the sidewalk. It is also probably past midnight right now, which could be adding to the spookiness, but you cannot be certain. You’ve had no real sense of time ever since you've been on the run. The Interpol had crazy technology and you were paranoid that even a wrist watch would help them track you down so you decided to forego it.
Looking at Jungkook you cannot see any sort of gadget on him either. You still try to ask.
“Any idea what time it is right now?”
Jungkook hums before reaching into his jeans pocket, and your heart stops for a second, worried he’s about to pull a mobile phone out. But then he plucks out a fucking pocket watch.
Holy fucking hell.
You cannot help the snort of laughter that escapes you. He raises an eyebrow at you.
“What? This is the only untraceable device I can keep on my person.”
You shake your head in amusement. “People used to keep this in their overcoats. And you pulled it out of your skinny jeans.”
“Well, I used to keep it in my overcoats, too.”
You look at him in surprise. “For real? How old are you?”
Jungkook gives you a sheepish smile. “Younger than you. More than a century old, though.”
You hold yourself back from telling him how he looks really innocent and too young with his doe eyes. Instead, you raise your eyebrows at the pocket watch in his hands.
Jungkook pops the metallic lid open. “Heh. It’s close to midnight, but not yet midnight.”
You nod, staying quiet.
You wrap your arms around your body with a grimace. You’ve been dressed in the same dark blue hoodie and skinny jeans for three days, and it’s starting to gross you out.
Your eyes dart to look at Jungkook’s silky, striped shirt. You look for details you hadn’t noticed before when you bumped into him in that construction site. You try to not be a creep when you follow the line of his neck, noticing a back undershirt peeking from just beneath his collarbones.
Something shiny catches your eye, and you frown.
He’s wearing a chain.
You hum. “You wear jewelry?”
Jungkook doesn’t look surprised by your question, he simply nods, wordlessly reaching into the neck of his shirt to pull the chain out. Wait, did he know you were looking at him? Embarrassment doesn’t seem to leave you be tonight.
“It’s an amethyst.” Jungkook tells you, holding a tear shaped, mauve stone in his hand that is dangling from the end of his chain.
“Looks pretty,” you muse. “Does it mean anything?”
Jungkook nods. “My dad gave it to me when I was a kid.”
You scratch at your cheek. You did not expect him to talk about sentimental value. You were talking about the meaning of the gemstone.
“He said,” Jungkook continued, looking lost in thoughts, “that this would save me from any powers trying to control my mind.”
Your eyes widened at that. “Oh? And did it work?”
Jungkook has a wistful, little smile on his face. “I think it did, yeah. It worked a bit too well.”
He’s being weird and you feel like there’s something you’re not understanding about this conversation, so you let it be.
The two of you walk out of the neighborhood and enter a patch of forest. Jungkook turns and enters the space, walking with purposeful steps.
You stumble after him with wide eyes. "What—hey! Where are you going? Jungkook!"
Jungkook steps over branches and overgrown grass, striding forward confidently, and for the second time since you met him, you wonder if he's brought you here to murder you.
Or hand you over to the Interpol because he's actually a spy with mad acting skills.
You shake your head at yourself, somewhat embarrassed at your paranoia. Any sane person would stop doubting their technical savior in such a dire situation – and then there's you with your gazillion suspicions.
But if you think about it, you really cannot be blamed. Jungkook is a runaway Fae, helping you stay alive while also staying hidden from the Interpol.
He cannot actually have that good of a heart, it just doesn't run in the blood of his species.
Then why the fuck?
You jump at his announcement, almost colliding into his back when he suddenly comes to a stop. Glaring up at the back of his head, you step to the side to look past him.
"Woah!" You cannot help but gasp at the cottage sitting before you. "This is cool!"
Jungkook gives you a weird look over his shoulder, and you immediately drop your smile, clearing your throat to compose yourself.
"This is just…a great place to live if you hate the world."
"You hate the world?" Jungkook asks with a chuckle, moving forward to knock at the door.
You shrug your shoulders. "Definitely don't love it either."
You watch him run a hand through his hair, following his veiny fingers as they wrap around the back of his neck; the action more provocative than it should be. He then suddenly pulls both his hands down to tuck them into the pockets of his tight as hell skinny jeans and leans back on his heels, and you have to look away because—
Fuck. He's really handsome, what the fuck.
You stare at the door instead, frowning when you realise.
"Did you just… knock?" you blurt. “Are you gonna, like, ask someone for blood, or…?”
You don’t understand. He’s been giving you such do-gooder vibes, what is he up to, this time?
Jungkook doesn’t respond, simply rolling his shoulders back when you hear the pitter-patter of steps from inside the house. The door is opened by a woman seemingly in her late thirties. Her face is wholly puffy with sleep, hair is mussed and an oversized t-shirt drapes down to her mid-calves.
Your eyes zoom onto her throat, at the pulse thrumming beneath her skin. Your mouth immediately salivates.
“Who is—oh!” The woman’s eyes widen when they lock onto your companion. She looks tensed. “J-Jungkook, what are you—”
Jungkook’s hand snaps forth, wrist striking at the woman’s nape, and her eyes instantly swim, body dropping straight onto Jungkook. He deftly catches her in his waiting arms, turning to look at you with a close-lipped smile that makes him look nothing like the guy you’ve been seeing so far.
“No, I’m not gonna ask her,” Jungkook says in a breezy voice, answering your earlier question, sounding and looking completely different from before.
You’re left gaping, because what the fuck? What just happened? He’s not about to send him to the Fae world and take her place, is he?
That makes no sense, you’re definitely losing braincells, here.
“What the fuck? What are you doing, Jungkook?”
Jungkook exhales in what looks like exasperation, fucking again acting like your question isn’t very fucking valid. You really wanna slap him.
“Trying to get you fed?”
“By knocking her out? How—”
“You obviously cannot be trusted to not drain her if you drink straight from her, so I’m gonna get you a few pints in bags. Okay?”
You blink. “Bags? How’re you gonna do that?”
Wait, did he say a few pints? This absolute fucking lunatic, does he not know how human bodies work? A human isn’t supposed to go beyond one, singular pint at a time. Fucking hell.
“I told you I have a couple Vampire friends, right? They come here often.”
Jungkook steps inside the house with the woman’s unconscious body in his arms, moving around her living room with an air of familiarity. He places her on the couch and opens one of the drawers in her coffee table to extract a couple of transparent tubes, a cannula, a transparent bag and medical tape.
So Jungkook apparently has a complete set of blood extracting equipment stashed away at an unsuspecting human’s house.
What the actual fuck is happening, right now?
Who is this guy?
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand as he sets up, still somewhat stuck on the way he knocked the woman out. “You’re literally on the run, Jungkook. And your stunt at the door is more than certainly gonna leave a trace.”
“This is honestly not even the last place they’d worry about finding my trace at,” he says with a wry chuckle. “Besides, I knocked her out with Taekwondo, not magic. Relax. And settle down, this’ll take a while.”
You sit on the opposite couch, gobsmacked because Jungkook just keeps on smacking your gob at literally every turn. Every time you think he will do something to honor his species, he knocks a woman out cold with martial art. You gawk at the whole scene unfolding before you like a literal goldfish. Even the sight of fresh, thick blood running up the transparent tubes and gathering in the blood bag is not enticing to you, right now, because of all the thoughts running in your head.
You’re really fucking confounded.
Your gaze flickers away from the woman to fixate on Jungkook. He’s staring at cannula he has expertly fixed into the woman’s arm with all the concentration in the world. So does he have a belt in Taekwondo and a secret medical degree, too, then? Is this why he isn’t that great at being a despicable Changeling, being too busy collecting expertise in the human world?
You sigh at your thoughts.
“Don’t – don’t take more than a bag,” you advise, suddenly recalling him mentioning ‘a few pints’ and then you mentally curse yourself for stuttering like an idiot.
Jungkook looks up at you from under his brows, and your breath nearly hitches at the heat in his gaze. What happened to their doe-like luminance?
“I thought you’d be ravenous by now.”
The way he enunciates the adjective makes you think of a very different kind of hunger and you hold back a shiver that has absolutely nothing to do with the cold seeping in your body. You look down at your purpling fingertips to ground yourself.
“A bag would be fine, Jungkook,” you simply respond, refusing to play into his weird ass games when he looks this daunting all of a sudden.
“Are you sure?” He gives you a sombre look when you look up at his serious voice. “Given your current state, I don’t think this’ll sustain you beyond a day.”
“Yes, I am.” You nod. “We’ll think of something when need be.”
“We, huh?” He flashes you a killer smirk that would make you blush if you had any blood in you.
You hold your breath and wait for the wave of lust to roll past your body. You inhale after a couple of seconds. “Are you really gonna—”
“Sorry,” he mumbles; quirked lips not looking sorry at all. Then he shrugs a single shoulder, eyes shuttering a bit. “Fine, then. One bag it is.”
You rub your hands together as you nod, feeling uncharacteristically nervous under his heated scrutiny. You look around the living room, cursing the man to hell for getting under your skin by acting all adorable and caring, and then suddenly being this self-assured, teasing motherfucker that you low-key want to be ruined by.
You cannot decide who’s the weirder one between the two of you.
You briefly wonder if this is what his true nature as a Changeling is – being a pro actor, switching personalities like characters, making people trust him before he goes in for the kill.
Although, it might be an exaggeration because he sure as hell is still helping you and hasn’t really shown any signs of betrayal other than throwing in an innuendo and eyeing you like a piece of meat out of the blue. Which you cannot exactly call ‘betrayal’ because you obviously liked it a bit too much – and should obviously stop thinking about for that exact reason.
You, instead, think back to the way this woman had tensed after she recognised Jungkook. Why could that have been? He told you he brings his Vampire friends here often. But if this is the technique he employs to extract her blood everytime, how the hell does she even know him?
Amidst the clouding questions, a sudden chuckle escapes you when you recall how you’d immediately assumed he was about to do some Changeling magic on her when he attacked the woman.
“What is it?”
You look up to find Jungkook looking at you with a small smile.
You laugh. “Nothing I’m just… When you struck her?” you begin, looking up at him with playfully narrowed eyes. “I was half afraid you were about to send her to your… Fae world, or something.”
Jungkook snorts at that, shaking his head. “How would you feed if I did that? Besides, contacting my world would leave a huge freaking magical signature behind. I would be traced in under a minute.”
“A minute, for real? Interpol really has developed a lot, huh.”
Jungkook’s lips twist up in a mysterious smile as he hums. “I guess.”
You clear your throat, now eyeing the bag that is nearly full with the deliciousness you have missed so dearly. Your eyes almost turn hazy when you stare long and hard, and you have to blink rapidly to gain control of yourself.
Oh, if only you had blinked rapidly to gain control before you killed half the citizens of that city. Ugh.
“All done!” Jungkook suddenly says, quickly detaching the cannula from the woman’s body and packing up the equipment.
Stashing everything back in the coffee table, he picks up the bag of blood and forwards it to you. You lick your lips, looking from the bag in his hands to his softly smiling face, feeling grateful overwhelm you. You look back at the warm bag and your whole body tingles.
You extend both your hands to grab it – but Jungkook doesn’t hand it over to you. You look up at him when he tugs it back.
He has his lower lip tucked between his teeth and he looks at you with the expression of worry that you’ve gotten familiar with within the past few hours.
“What?” You frown.
“I don’t know when we'll be able to acquire more. Are you sure you don't want another bag?"
Your eyes dart to the unconscious woman's pale skin. You shake your head. “No.”
“Okay, then. Consume this one sparingly if you can, maybe?”
You pull your lips together and shake your head again. “My brain is not lucid enough for me to exercise that kind of control, right now. Be glad I didn’t attack her.”
Nevermind the fact that your brain was otherwise occupied by inappropriate thoughts and body too tired to even think of fighting Jungkook to get to her.
Jungkook exhales in defeat, face falling a bit. “Right. Well, bon appetit, I guess?”
You take the bag from him with a laugh, greedily running your palm over its smooth, warm surface. “Jungkook?”
You bite your lip and look up. “Thank you.”
“Do–don’t mention it.”
His curious stare changes into something else, and you look away before you read too much into it. Without wasting another second, you uncap the corner of the bag and bring it to your lips.
And then you’re lost to the taste of ambrosia.
You don’t know what you’d expected when you and Jungkook left the woman’s house to head back to Taehyung’s hotel, but it had certainly not been the man himself waiting for you outside the building.
Jungkook doesn’t share your surprise at the discovery, though, instead looking at Taehyung with questioning eyes. Taehyung nods. Jungkook nods back.
“What was that?” You scowl at the two of them. “Stop talking in code all the fucking time!”
Taehyung raises an eyebrow at you. “You look better. Had a big meal?”
Your lips curl in irritation. “It was snacking. But yeah, I’ll live.”
“That’s good to know. Your convoy to Jacksonville is gonna be here in, like, three minutes.”
Your jaw drops. “Convoy to where now?”
Jungkook exhales behind you. “Jacksonville. It’s—”
“Nearly four-hundred miles away!”
The two guys wince at your sharp yell.
You glare at Jungkook. “You’re really fucking insane, you know that, right?”
“Well, what was your master plan of escape then?” Jungkook challenges.
You’re rendered immediately mute at that question, because your plans? Included hopping onto the next passing vehicle with a license plate of a different state and hope for the best.
At Jungkook’s expectant stare, you really just wanna dig a hole in the ground and curl up in it.
You really want to lie and claim a great plan of escape, but it’d be more embarrassing if you’re called out on your bluff if one of them asks you what vehicle you were gonna use.
So you shake your head and decide to go with a technical truth that won’t make you wanna die. “Not a great one.”
Taehyung sniggers. “You really didn’t have one, did you?”
You immediately scowl, which must be a giveaway, because Jungkook huffs out an incredulous laugh, rolling his eyes.
“Hey! You can’t tell me making a four-hundred miles long road trip isn’t an insane plan!”
He steps up to you, lips sucked into his mouth. “We’ll make a pitstop in Palm Bay. I’ve got a fellow Fae and a, well. A Vampire friend there.”
You tense with unease at the mention of another Vampire. You have no clue about the kind of stance the others of your species have taken upon your situation. You cannot think of a reason for them to not have turned against you.
“Hey, you okay?” Jungkook’s frowns at you.
You shake your head. “I don’t think it’s ideal for me to be around other Vampires.”
Jungkook looks contemplative for a moment. “Although that is a very valid argument, I don’t think Yoongi will pose much of a threat in that regard."
You stop short at the name. “Yoongi?”
Jungkook exchanges a look with Taehyung. “You know him?”
You swallow. “Yes. I mean… kind of? Not personally. He, uh, he was part of the Royal Court.”
Jungkook looks relieved at your response, but Taehyung steps closer to you with a confused frown. “Was?” he asks, looking between you and Jungkook.
You nod. “Yeah, uh, he deflected a few years ago. More than five decades ago, to be more precise.” You look at Jungkook with raised eyebrows. “Do the Fae need lawlessness around them to survive, or something?”
Taehyung laughs at that. “You know what? Don’t know about the species, but he really kinda does.”
“Shut up.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But, yeah. Yoongi has been cut off from the Vampires Council for fifty-eight years now. I don’t think he’s going to be a concern for you.”
You nod in agreement. “Right. So, what are we doing in Jacksonville?”
“Laying low for a while.” Jungkook tells you. “And then I’m going to contact an old friend to ask him for a solution to resolve my situation.”
You nod. “Is he a Warlock?”
Jungkook laughs. “They’re the only smart species around here, so. Yes.”
“The only compassionate ones, too,” Taehyung adds with a smile that looks so fond, you wonder if he knows exactly who Jungkook is talking about.
Do these guys all know each other or something?
“It’s here!” Taehyung announces even before you can hear the faint whirring of an engine.
You turn towards the road, and can immediately spot the glow of headlights emanating from the curve at the extreme end.
“Is this a pickup van too?” you wonder out loud, squinting against the progressively increasing light.
Taehyung shakes his head. “No, a friend is bringing his truck. You guys will have to drive.”
Even though your energy levels have been sufficiently replenished for you to comfortably stand on your own, you feel faint at the mention of driving.
“Yeah, Jungkook will have to take that up. I’ll pass.”
You cannot believe you’re actually agreeing to let a fucking Fae drive you to an unfamiliar ground among his own friends. And to think that this morning, you hadn’t even ever seen a real Changeling before.
But something about Jungkook—with his starry eyes and throat snapping duality—makes you trust him. More than you have anyone before. More than you probably should.
But what have you even got to lose, at this point?
It’s been three hours since you got on the road.
The rapidly changing beautiful scenes of the countryside kept you entertained for an hour. The sight of Jungkook looking like a five course meal while driving, for another one.
You’ve been bored for the past hour, and your energy level’s depleting fast.
To be really honest, this is quite possibly the most boring road-trip you’ve ever been on in your centuries long existence. Not that you’ve been on many, but yeah you had a couple back when you were a student at the Vampire Academy.
It has been, what – like, more than two hundred years since then, at least? Gosh, what a brilliant fucking era that was. You give a longing sigh.
You sigh again at Jungkook’s question. “I miss using gadgets.”
Jungkook makes a surprised sound. “What?”
“Never had a bored moment with them around.”
He laughs. “Well, that is the littlest price to pay when you're a runaway criminal.”
You recline further in your seat, propping your bare feet up on the dash. Jungkook glances at your feet and then at your face, and then goes back to driving.
You smirk. “What?”
“Nothing.” He pulls his lips into his mouth, eyes staring straight ahead out the windshield.
You groan. “It’s literally an empty road. What are you so focussed on?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows lower a bit, but he never moves his gaze. “I mean… what else would you like me to focus on?”
Your insides heat up at his loaded question, and you have to clear your throat to ward off any unwarranted thoughts or mental images.
“Fine, look at the damn road, but at least talk to me.”
Jungkook shrugs a shoulder. “About what?”
You gape at the guy. “For real?”
“Why are you so annoying?”
Jungkook turns to look at you with his eyes so fucking clueless that you can't even be mad. You simply sigh again and shake your head.
“I’m feeling tired.”
“I told you it’d happen.”
“Yeah, shut up about that. Can you, like, keep talking or something so that I don’t pass out from boredom?” you joke.
Jungkook gasps out loud, turning to you with wide, panicked eyes. You almost coo in adoration before you remember that you shouldn’t.
“You’re about to pass out?”
You can barely hold back your smile. “I was joking, relax.”
Jungkook looks a bit upset at that. “Hey, don’t joke about stuff like that. We’re literally in the middle of nowhere. What are we gonna do if you passed out for real?”
You don’t know whether to feel touched by his worry or to be worried yourself. Because it is a very valid concern. What if you pass out on your way?
You shake your head, though. “Yeah, sorry about that. But, like… this truck doesn’t even have a music system.”
“I can sing for you if you want.”
You freeze. Very slowly, you turn to look at Jungkook, a smile growing on your face at his bashful expressions. “Are you flirting with me, Jungkook?”
If you were expecting his usual, bashful exposition, you are taken back by surprise. He pauses for an ungodly amount of time, but the creases on his face show that the pause is not to decide on an answer, but to actually decide whether to say the decided answer out loud. His reddened ears, widened eyes, and the pink tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip – you stare at it just a second longer than you should, momentarily forgetting the situation at hand.
“And what if I am?”
Fuck. He said it.
You immediately sober up at his response. He really just blatantly challenged you. You have absolutely no idea how to respond to this, your walls just involuntarily stack up high around your heart.
“You shouldn’t,” you say in a plain voice, making him look at you in surprise.
“There’s nothing here for you, Jungkook. I don’t date.”
Everything falls silent for a while. And then Jungkook clears his throat again.
“Well, I didn’t say anything about dating.”
You suck in a sharp breath at his not so subtle proposition, swallowing past a suddenly parched throat.
“What? You asked me to talk, now I’m talking."
You scowl at him. “The answer is no.”
“But I didn’t even ask you anything?”
Jungkook gives you an innocent stare which slowly turns into, if a bit nervous, laughter, when you stay silent and just look at him. You fume in your seat when he giggles, crossing your arms against your chest tightly. You’re more than a little miffed that he’s laughed it off, which is more than a little concerning, because you’re not supposed to be having any sorts of any feelings, here.
“You have the audacity to be a little shit while you still haven’t told me why you’re running?”
Of course, you meant it as a joke, but the way Jungkook stiffens at your question has your intrigue spiking.
He awkwardly clears his throat a couple of times, a hand raking through his hair to rest over the back of his neck. You follow the action with heat swirling in your stomach. Too bad… but it’s too sweet.
“I – I’ll tell you some other time.”
You cock an eyebrow. “No time like the present.”
He grips the steering wheel with both hands. “It’s a long story. You’ll probably fall asleep. And we’re trying to avoid that, so…”
He’s not even trying to be subtle about the dodge. You decide to stow away your curiosity for some other time, simply resting your head against the glass window and looking out at the passing countryside landscapes.
Jungkook’s Fae friend in Palm Bay doesn’t even come to see you, paranoid for God knows what reason as he talks to Jungkook behind the truck. Not that you are in much of a position to indulge in small talk, anyway, your body refusing to move a limb like a bag of deadweight.
Jungkook returns in under two minutes, settling in and wearing his seatbelt.
“Jimin has booked us a hotel, less than a mile from here. It could be tiny and most probably gross, but it’s the only hotel in the area that uses an offline database to record its guests so we can't be picky.”
You drowsily nod. “One room?”
Jungkook doesn’t respond. You turn to look at him, only to find him nervously chewing on his lower lip as he steers the truck onto the road.
“And one bed.”
Your eyes spring open. "What? Why?”
“They don't have rooms with two beds! And it’s just for a couple of hours!” He wildly gesticulates with his free hand. “You can take a nap, while I’ll just… sit around, I guess? I’ll be respectful! Promise!”
“You were literally flirting with me, an hour ago!”
“Well, that was an hour ago! I’m a changed man now!”
What the hell?
The rest of the drive passes by mostly quietly, with you gradually dropping closer to unconsciousness. Until, that is, you recall the mention of Jungkook’s Vampire friend.
“Hey, are we gonna meet… Yoongi?” you ask him.
Jungkook gives a non-committal hum. “Not really sure. He is supposed to meet us at the motel. He’s a moody guy, though, so can't really say for certain that he'd be there.”
You turn to look out the window, watching the civilization growing thicker as you move further into the city. Jungkook drives up to an aged building and parks. Undoing his seatbelt, he doesn't get out immediately, instead leaning over the steering wheel to peer through the windshield.
“There he is!”
Your eyes immediately widen in alarm. “Who? Yoongi?”
Jungkook rushes out of the car, jogging across the sidewalk to pull a shorter guy into a hug.
Yoongi is dressed so differently from what you saw him wearing last time that you struggle to recognise him. He’s exchanged his jewelled, bright green coat with a dark colored oversized t-shirt and leggings for similarly loose-fitted pants. If his mother were to see him now, she’d think he was a homeless guy. And then drop dead on the spot on finding out that he's actually her precious prince.
While you’re still staring at the way Yoongi grins and laughs the way he never did in the court, Jungkook turns back and points at you. Yoongi squints in your direction, and you instinctively duck.
Like, fine, you don’t actually believe Yoongi is in a position to report you or anything, but still. He’s still the son of the freaking Queen and his dad's the Vampires President in the Supernatural Council – how can he not be furious at you for soiling the respect of your entire species?
You’re still sitting with your head resting against the dashboard when Jungkook knocks at the window. You jump up in your seat, looking at the guy with wide eyes. He points a thumb in Yoongi’s direction and you gulp.
“He’s not gonna snap my neck, is he?” you ask, rolling the window down.
Jungkook laughs. “No! Of course not. He’s a cool guy. You might’ve seen him at the court but you don’t know him like I do.”
Well, yes, you certainly do not because you haven’t ever seen Yoongi with any expression beyond the unnerving and slightly concerning soulless vacant look he always wore. Well until now, that is. You didn’t know if he even actually could move his facial muscles at all, let alone grin so big his gums peek out.
Jungkook really must be something to have caused this effect.
"Now come on before you pass out in the truck."
You scowl at him. "Hey, I'm not going to pass—"
Jungkook opens your side of the door, giving you a deadpan look that makes you stop speaking.
"I mean, I – I'm fine. Just a bit—"
"Hey. Shut up. Please."
He looks at you with exasperation but also a bit of… wait, is that fondness in his eyes?
You stumble out of the truck with his support, walking up to Yoongi on wobbly legs.
You immediately bow down, nearly doubling at your waist when you reach him. “Your Highness!”
Everything goes silent for a moment, Jungkook’s grip on your upper-arm stiffening. And then he swears under his breath and Yoongi gives a loud snort.
You slowly raise your head up, before standing up straight when you see the Vampire Prince snickering.
“Shut up with that bullshit, will you?” he says, clicking his tongue as he forwards his hand for you to shake. “Yoongi. Jungkook’s friend.”
You lick your lips. He went from Yoongi – the crowned Min Prince of the Vampires to Yoongi – Jungkook’s best friend. And looks so much happier for it.
You put on a tentative smile, shaking hands with him as you tell him your name.
He laughs. “I know.”
You sigh, grimacing at your stupidity for the thousandth time since this entire episode of running from Interpol started.
“Alright, I’ve made the bookings, you two. Come see me tomorrow morning for breakfast if you can. Don't bother with the formalities and leave quickly if you’re compromised, though.”
You nod, but Jungkook clears his throat.
“Hyung… Do you know of some place we can get a supply of human blood?”
You turn to him with wide eyes. Yoongi throws a humored glance at you before nodding. “I can pull some strings, yeah. I’d offer my stash but I have been in hiding too. Can’t risk exposing myself by suddenly increasing the size of my order.”
“No, no, I understand, Your—uh, Yoongi,” you interrupt with a wince. “You don't have to.”
Yoongi raises a single brow. “I know I don’t. But I will. It might take some time, can you last till tomorrow?”
“Alright then. Don’t drink his blood, though, unless you plan to fuck him later.”
You choke on air.
“Hyung, what—oh no – hey, breathe! Are you okay?”
You nod with your teary eyes, thumping a fist against your chest.
“Fae’s blood is aphrodisiac! You know that, JK!”
“Yeah and apparently so does she, but there are other, better ways to get that point across!”
“Stop whining and get in the motel. You’re drawing attention to us.”
Sufficiently calmed down, you look up to find Yoongi putting on a cap on his head before he walks off. Jungkook looks at you with a pleading face. You roll your eyes and nod towards the motel.
What is up with everyone in Jungkook’s life reminding you of the aphrodisiac properties of his blood? He hasn’t been going around feeding people his blood to get them to fuck him, has he? Highly unlikely, because given his looks and build, you don’t believe he would have to do much more than smirk at someone lasciviously to get them lusting after him. Not that it applies to you or anything, it’s just a scientific observation you’re making.
You are embarrassed to have Jungkook support you by an arm as you walk into the building, but when the receptionist doesn’t even bat an eyelid at a fully sober looking guy getting a room with a very obviously drunk looking girl, you are immediately worried about the kind of people that came to this place.
“People could commit crimes in broad daylight here,” you whisper to Jungkook as the two of you look for your room.
“Well, obviously. Why else do you think they don't keep an online database? And given the unexpectedly nice ambience, I'm starting to think this place might actually be a hub for criminals.”
"Gosh, I'm hanging out at criminal places, too, now. What am I doing with my life?"
You groan at your mental reflection, resting against the wall while Jungkook unlocks the door to your room.
You immediately fall onto the bed when you step in, barely noticing the okay state of the room. Not just okay, even. The room’s ten times better than the one you were in, back in Homestead. Jungkook was right – the place is better than it looks.
You turn to raise your eyebrows at him. “Why have they disguised a three-star hotel as a rundown motel?”
Jungkook slumps on a leather mounted chair, leaning his head over the backrest. “To house and hide rich crime committing people, maybe? But your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never heard of this place before.”
You roll over to your side.
“I desperately need a change of clothes.”
“I can buy you some from the market downstairs.”
You hum, eyes dropping shut. “That would be… nice…”
You cuddle into the pillow, sighing happily as drowsiness takes over. The past few days have taught you that sleep isn't all that bad. And right now, on this cushioned bed, all you can think about is napping for a long, long time.
“...wake the hell up!”
Jungkook is shaking your whole body and your face is wet when you open your eyes.
“Oh, thank God!”
You're suddenly pulled into a warm, strong chest; similar warm, strong arms wrap around you.
You blink your lethargy away to realise that Jungkook is fiercely hugging you close, knelt on the bed next to you and leaning with your inclined form.
“What—Jungkook?” you mumble into his shirt, trying to detach from him.
He pulls away with huge eyes. “I thought… God, I’ve been trying to wake you up for an hour but you won’t stir! I even sprinkled water on your face! I thought something had happened…”
This is the hundredth time, but his show of concern still stuns you. You observe the fear spilling off his voice, shining through his eyes and solidifying through his tight grip on both your shoulders, and you just don’t get it.
You don't know if he sees you as a kindred spirit or simply pities you, but you believe it's definitely something more than just benevolence that makes him care about you the way he has been since the construction site. At least you hope it's something more than benevolence because if this is the kind of charity he shows just every stranger be meets, Jungkook is a very stupid guy and a horrible Fae.
While you're still pondering his attitude, Jungkook scans your face and stares closely into your eyes as if to check for something.
And he probably finds it, too, because, “you have to feed,” he says with determination. “You have to feed right fucking now.”
This is probably the first time you’ve heard him swear. He's obviously worried, gazing at you with his brows drawn tight, and even your dilated tired eyes burn at how stunning he looks in the moment - hair all over the place, eyes wide and glassy, lips ruby red and chest heaving with gasps.
He looks like you just made out with him for an hour and it is the sexiest sight in the world.
“Jungkook… it’s fine.” You look at the clock hanging over the door of the hotel room. “It’s past midnight. You shouldn’t disturb Yoongi. He won’t be able to—”
“Well, then feed from me.”
You freeze. “What?”
"Creature blood can sustain you longer than human blood." He quickly pulls his sleeve up, offering you his wrist like a fucking moron. “Feed from me, Y/N. Please.”
You shuffle back on the bed, horrified, shaking your head. “No. No, what the fuck? Are you insane?”
Jungkook follows you. “Please. Please? I should've done this before, fuck, why didn't I do this before…”
You blink at him, leaning your head away to avoid listening to the tempting thumping of his heart. “It’s not… Feeding from creatures is a crime, Jungkook!”
“I’m not gonna report you.”
You make an irritated sound in the back of your throat. “The Vampires Council will find out sooner or later!”
“Yeah, well, you’re already a fugitive so fuck off with that.”
Your eyes widen at his brazen language, but the beating of the pulse beneath the tender skin on his wrist slowly grows in volume in your ears, until it pounds in your head. You clench your fists tightly, trying to block out everything and focus on the sting of your nails digging against your palms, but everything fails.
His scent surrounds you – overwhelming you to the point where your vision grows tunneled and all you can see is the subtle jump of his skin where his vein is working hard to pump blood.
“Please,” he whispers, nearly pressed up against you – so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
“Jungkook… don’t,” you warn him, trembling eyes switching between his wrist and his own wide ones.
“Please,” he begs again, almost whimpering at the end of his sentence with his wrist hovering an inch away from your shaking lips, and that is your undoing.
You curse under your breath, fists unclenching with your resolve crumbling to dust.
With a growl, you open your mouth and press it against his wrist. Your canines extend just as you brush your teeth against his skin, his gasp playing in your ears when they puncture skin. And then you drink.
Now, you haven’t been a criminal your entire life, but you haven’t exactly lived the life of a saint, either. You’ve tasted multiple creatures’ bloods, usually during sex, and instantly regretted it because of the abhorrent taste. You often wondered if they had turned drinking creature blood into a crime solely to save the Vampires from the taste.
But now, you’re starting to believe that they made the law with Changelings in mind.
Jungkook’s blood tastes unlike anything you’ve ever had before – sweet and delicious and so fucking addictive, you’re half afraid you’re gonna drain him if you aren’t stopped.
You feel the liquid drip down the side of your mouth and you immediately unlatch your teeth from his skin to lap the runaway drop up.
Jungkook’s groan draws your attention to his face. He stares back with his eyes half lidded and nostrils flared. A sudden flame of lust runs through your body at the thought of him getting turned on by you feeding from him.
You look down at his wrist, exhaling at the reddened wound. You should probably stop before it gets worse and he has to bandage it up.
“I think I should—”
You look up at his interruption to find this gigantic idiot offering you his other wrist. You gawk at him for a whole minute.
“Jungkook, do you have a death wish or something?”
You’re surprised at the strength that has returned to your voice. You remember Jungkook telling you how creature blood is more powerful than human blood. The taste had never let you have enough of it to really make any observation, but now you’re considering the possibility.
“Just… have more. Please.”
He is literally begging you to suck his blood. What is wrong with his brain?
But you’re a weak ass Vampire who has starved long enough to lose her mind over the very sound of a heartbeat, so you don’t fight him further and simply attach your mouth to his other wrist.
He somehow scuffles closer while you drink, now sitting so close that your knees would brush if you so much as inhaled loudly. You feel the warmth of his body seeping into you, and a moan slips past your occupied lips at the comfort that is quickly settling into your bones.
But then you hear him wince a little, and you immediately pull away from him. There is a frown on his face and his eyes are shut when you look up, and you really just want to run away in embarrassment.
“I—I’m so sorry, fuck, I went too far, I’m… Jungkook…” You trail off when he slowly shakes his head.
Then he opens his eyes and extracts both his hands to unbutton his shirt.
“Jungkook!” you gasp loudly, raising to your knees to grip his hands, stopping him. “What the hell are you—stop—”
“Drink from my neck,” he says over your protests.
Your mouth falls open. “What? No!”
“Yes,” he insists, unbuttoning three top buttons to display his black undershirt and the amethyst necklace. “Please.”
All you can do is stare at him with your jaw still dropped.
One of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “I’ll be okay, promise. I know you need this. Please don’t worry about me.”
Despite the tension in the air, a small laugh bubbles out of you. “What – what do you even eat? Flowers? Nectar?
Jungkook gives you a slow smile, rendering you breathless again. “Kind of. We’re supposed to. But most of us just carry nectar capsules around now.”
You give a nod. “Do you have some on you, right now?”
He nods back, leaning closer. “I do.”
“Alright, then,” you mumble, gaze flickering down to the gorgeous line of his neck.
The pulse thumping beneath his jaw calls out to you – surrounding you fully when you lean closer. The scent of his skin wafts up to you when you tilt your head over his throat and you inhale deeply, allowing the sweet, sugary smell to fill up your lungs. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, palms barely able to cover their entirety because of how bulked this guy is.
You lick your lips and close your eyes, and then descend upon his neck with your teeth, canines tearing through the thin, tender layer of his skin. Your hands subconsciously clench, nails scraping against the silk of his shirt when the delicious, heavy liquid starts to trickle into your mouth.
You moan against his neck, pushing your mouth against him harder, and suck. His heavy breathing and occasional gasps fall heavy into your ears, permeating your stupor with surprising ease. Your knees scramble in an attempt to move closer to him until you're pressed up against his body. His arms slowly wrap around your waist, neck craning a bit as if to grant you proper access. You take full advantage and drink up his life's essence with abandon, slurping noises echoing so loud around you that you can hear them past your trance.
His grip on you tightens progressively, eventually getting to the point where he's holding you tight against his body, arms crossed over your back and hands curling along the opposite sides of your waist. You feel yourself melt into him, the power of his hold making you want to feel him exert a similar force elsewhere.
And then you feel the faint brush of his lips over the side of your head and nearly lose your mind. At the responding jerk your body gives, his face turns slightly and lowers further into the crook of your neck.
You feel the warmth of his breath before his lips make contact with your skin – soft, sweltering, and so fucking good. Your mouth detaches from him, instantly, eyes screwing shut as unadulterated lust takes over at the feeling of his tongue running against your neck.
“Jungkook,” you mumble, fists tightening in his shirt.
He hums in response and pulls your bodies even closer together, lips travelling down your neck to press kisses over your clothed shoulder. The warmth of his body against your cold one lights a fire inside you despite the barrier of clothes between your skin and his.
“The myths were ri–right,” you mumble, dragging your own mouth down his throat, drawing streaks of red across his gorgeous, caramel skin. “Your blood… it’s definitely aphrodisiac…”
Jungkook uses one of his arms wrapped around your waist to toss you back on the bed, chuckling low in his throat with a smirk on his face as he caresses the side of your face with the other hand. “Is that right?”
You shiver at his dark voice, skin burning everywhere he’s touched. You’ve never felt something like this before. Something this intense and captivating.
Maybe it's the aphrodisiac.
Or maybe… it’s something more.
All of this is very unlike you – being so sensitive to every single touch of his, letting him take charge over you and move things at his pace, going so pliant under him by just his words. You’ve always been the one to take charge in bed, panic and paranoia hitting you as soon as someone so much as tries to get on top of you. But right here with Jungkook, you feel none of those emotions even as he moves you around with total control.
He hovers above you, blood smeared across his throat, hair dishevelled, lips red from him chewing on them against your attack on his neck – and he looks so fucking gorgeous like this, you just want to devour him whole.
So you do – lifting your head up and closing your lips over his. He instantly groans into your mouth, immediately responding with his lips pulling at yours and winding both his arms around your waist again to press his body onto yours. You cannot manage any finesse at all and the kiss is all over the place, your tongue pressing against his, teeth running over his soft lips – and your hands keep switching between gripping his hair and trying to tug at his shirt, while he just relentlessly presses you harder into the mattress and squeezes you so close to himself that you can feel every single hard muscle of his against you.
Your hand finally manages to wedge its way inside his shirt and you immediately dig your nails into his back, moaning at the feel of his bulging muscles beneath your fingertips. Your hands climb up to wrap around his shoulders, mouth wild against his.
Jungkook parts from your mouth, breathing heavily into the space between you two. You stare into his delirious eyes, certain that the look is mirrored by your own. He licks his lips, gaze darting all over your face before settling on your lips. He sighs, ducking his head to nip at your lower lip and you yelp at the unexpected action.
“Your lips are really fucking pretty, you know that?” he asks you in a mumble with his voice so low in octaves that you feel it gritting across the bottom of your stomach – core tightening at the sound paired with the way he looks. “All of you are.”
What has happened to this guy? Where is all this sexiness jumping out of? You can’t help recalling the way you’d found him adorable. Well, the way he’s changed gears has definitely sent that feeling flying out of the window, leaving behind only horniness and desperation.
You swallow harshly, fruitlessly trying to gain a sense of control over your mind and self. Jungkook ducks his head without a word, dragging his open mouth down your throat and pressing wet kisses on your collarbone while his hands brush past your shirt to trace the sides of your waist. You pant beneath him in acute want, arching up towards him.
He runs his nose over your top, along the faint trace of the upper seam of your bra before brushing over the peak of your breast. Your nipples perk up at his touch, and with an appreciative hum, he drags his teeth over them turn wise.
Never in your life have you ever begged before – it has always been the other way round. But right now, as you lie boneless under Jungkook’s ministrations, you cannot help but beg. You don’t even know what you’re begging for but he does because your words have him immediately moving to pull his shirt over his head. You have barely been able to appreciate his thick biceps that are the size of your thighs when he’s rendering you immobile by tugging off his sleeveless tank in the next move.
You tremble like a leaf beneath him, feeling drunk on lust.
The silver of his chain and the purple of his amethyst glows against the bronze of his skin when he moves to straddles your waist in all his bare chested glory. His body is sculpted so deliciously – defined abdominal muscles beneath string pectorals, arms so sinewy you cannot resist running a hand over his forearms. Your other palm tentatively brushes his abs and he grips at your wrist, keeping your palm in place when you try to pull away.
He gives you a slow smile full of dark promises and you whimper. What switch have you accidentally flipped in him?
Your top is slowly pulled off your body, Jungkook’s palms immediately cupping your bra clad breasts and face dipping into your cleavage to lick at the soft mounds of your skin. You keen under him, body twisting in place at his teasing touches until he recedes and tugs both your bra cups down to engulf a nipple into his mouth.
“Jungkook, yes! Fuck!” you cry out, one hand winding in his hair and the other running up the bed to grip at your pillow.
Jungkook doesn’t say a word as he kisses down your abdomen, scraping his teeth against your navel as he goes, and simply looks up to meet your heavy lidded gaze with his own when he reaches the waistband of your jeans.
You suck your lower lip into your mouth and nod.
He shakes his head.
“Speak up,” he rasps into the skin of your stomach, opening his mouth to press a wet kiss right above your waistband.
Your breath stutters. “Ye—yes. Yes, Jungkook.”
His eyes darken at your words and hands immediately work on unbuttoning your jeans, which he pulls off you along with your underwear in one swift motion. He maps the expanse of your inner thighs with his large palms, pushing them apart to make space for his broad torso between your legs. The muscles in his back ripple, big shoulders nudging at your knees when he descends on you, and you hold back a pathetic tremor of want at the sight.
He doesn’t tease at all, suctioning his mouth over your clit immediately. You cry out from blinding pleasure, hands shooting up to cup over your mouth to muffle the sound.
Jungkook looks up, searing gaze travelling up your nearly naked body, lingering at your bare breasts, before he finally meets your eyes. His mouth glistens with your juices which he licks at with a tiny flick of his tongue, shooting a pulsating need straight to the very place he just moved his mouth off.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” he murmurs, pressing a chaste, teasing kiss to your clit which makes your entire body shudder. He smirks, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “No one’s gonna question it if they hear you.”
You drily swallow, licking your lips at his words.
“Besides,” he continues in a lower timbre, “I like hearing you say my name like this.”
You look away from him, feeling shy under his unyielding stare that seems charged with promises of ruining you. You wouldn’t have associated such a sexually primed and seductive character jumping out of the seemingly innocent Changeling you met at that abandoned construction site. But there’s obviously stuff about Jungkook that you’ve assumed very wrongly.
Everything about this situation, in fact, is completely foreign to you and you feel intoxicated by how good this feels.
“Okay,” you breathe, a ghost of a smile on your lips. “Then hear your name, you shall.”
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow at you before returning to your cunt, licking deep into your entrance immediately after which he swirls his tongue around your bundle of nerves. You fidget above him, whimpering and shaking with whispered pleas of his name, and he goes harder, adding two of his strong, beautiful fingers into the mix.
You moan out his name, thrashing against his face in complete abandon now as he fucks his fingers into you. He is moving them at just the right pace, curling them just right to hit you correctly, and you can feel your completion just within reach.
“Yeah, you close, baby?” he mumbles into you, dipping back in to give your clit a messy suckle before parting again to meet your barely open eyes. “Why don’t you come for me, then?”
He goes back to attach his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue in perfect rhythm with his fingers moving inside you, and with a faint brush of his teeth against your sensitive bud, everything around you fades away – the fire in your abdomen comes to an apogee, slowly consuming you whole from the inside out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, because that is all you can do as you quickly approach your end.
Jungkook senses it too, fingers getting rougher and tongue getting messier with every stroke as he ravages you, grunting a scolding into your cunt every time you move your hips, until he finally moves his free hand up your body to deliver a hard slap to your tit.
Your body draws tight, teetering teetering teetering – until you finally fall with another call of his name, doused in an ocean of pleasure. Your walls flutter around his digits, gripping them and releasing them, and you feel your arousal drip drown your thighs and ass to pool on the bedsheets beneath you.
Jungkook slurps at you for another couple of seconds before finally relenting, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gets up and grips both your knees in his palms. You look at him with your breathing all over the place, undoubtedly looking extremely dishevelled and fucked out, but he still smiles at you with affectionate eyes and leans over to plant a firm kiss to your sternum.
With a nod, you reach out to hold his arms and pull him atop you. You rake a hand through his hair when he leans over you, hooking a leg across his thigh. And then before he can think past your nails against his scalp, you yank at your leg and push at his chest with your free hand, effectively flipping the two of you over. Your ass lands on hips where you can feel him growing in his pants.
Jungkook looks at you with both his eyes and mouth wide open, hands hovering between the two of you.
You purse your lips to hold back a snicker. “What?”
“That,” he breathes out, “was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Fuck.”
You barely have any time to react until he reaches out to grip at your arms and crush your body against his, taking your lips into a passionate kiss. Your hands immediately cup his chiseled jaw, one of them wrapping around the back of his neck. His own hands leave your arms to reach behind you to unhook your bra and finally tug it off.
You lay completely naked on top of him while he still has his jeans on. It doesn’t sit well with you.
You part from his lips, grinning when he follows you with dazed eyes, and tug on the button of his jeans. You’re impatient and aroused, slippery wetness spreading everywhere, and you can only manage to peel his jeans and boxers off him enough to free his length from its confines.
Fuck, he’s so gorgeous. You aren’t the type to give adjectives to dicks, because well, as long as they serve their purpose, who cares, right? But apparently, there’s no part of Jungkook that wouldn’t be called attractive.
He gives a small groan when you touch him, eyes screwing shut when his cock brushes against your naked abdomen.
You wrap a hand around his impressive length, biting your lips at the sight of his tip already leaking precum. You wanna taste him so bad. But sucking him off would have to wait for another time because you feel like you would die if you had to spend another second without your cunt stuffed full of this cock.
You rise up to your knees, shuffling forward on Jungkook, and give me a needy whine when he opens his bleary eyes to look at you. “I need you in me right now.”
Jungkook hurriedly nods. “Get – get me in you, please. Please.”
You nearly moan at his words, not expecting him to plead, and quickly descend on him.
He slides right in through the arousal dripping out of you, bottoming out when you sit down and grind your ass into his hips again. You both let out broken, choked moans at the sensation, and you almost cannot breathe. He’s so fucking big and perfect and he fills you up so fucking good that all you want to do is clench around him and drown in the feeling of your walls molding around his veiny, girthy cock.
But Jungkook has desperation etched on his face and reaches out to grab both sides of your waist. “Move. Please.”
And so you do – lifting yourself up just a little and sitting back down, sighing in pleasure when his tip hits all your sensitive spots. Jungkook takes one hand off you to brace it on the bed next to him, holding you tighter with the other, and slides up the bed—taking your dick-stuffed self along—so that he’s not fully horizontally reclined but slightly inclined.
You stare at him, motionless. What is he…?
He winks at you, jerking his hips up and you shriek at the sudden movement, a layer of heat roils through your body. You lean forward, supporting both your palms on his chest – he snags the opportunity to crane his neck towards you to smack his lips against yours in a quick kiss.
This position apparently gives him better leverage, because as you start to rock your hips against him again, you can feel him thrusting upwards in tandem with your movements. The depths he reaches in you pull little whines out of you at nearly every thrust, and it isn’t long before you’re a panting mess above him, hair thrown every which way.
“Jungkook,” you manage to croak out, “I’m…”
The rest of your sentence dissolves into a moan when he reaches up to tweak one of your nipples between his deft fingers. His other hand reaches further up to press against the nape of your neck, fingers climbing across your back to grip at a hefty tuft of your hair. Your head arches back when he pulls, the stinging in your scalp travelling across your nerve endings as a blend of pain and pleasure.
"Come, baby," he whispers to you almost secretly, his words floating between the two of you and slowly seeping into your body in the form of the command that they're probably not meant as. “Come all over me, come one.”
You've never taken commands before either, but you've accepted that Jungkook just has this power over you that turns you into everything you’ve never been before, and you’ve just stopped questioning it.
You move faster on his cock, dragging yourself off it and then grinding back down in a flurry of moves until the waves of pleasure start to layer one on top of the other. He lets go of your hair to grab your waist with a hand, the other still working on the tip of your breast.
“I’m there, I’m there, I’m – fuck, Jungkook!”
Jungkook pushes his hips against you, and in two more strokes, you explode – back arching up, pushing both your tits into Jungkook's awaiting hands while your cunt clenches around his cock. With a combination of sounds that loosely resemble his name, your body bucks over his and you float through your earth shattering climax.
"Fuck, baby, you're squeezing me so fucking hard – shit!"
Jungkook’s low pitched grunts add onto the euphoria you’ve slipped into and you roll your hips into his to ride out the last of the waves of your orgasm. When you open your eyes, you find Jungkook’s face twisted in pleasure. His eyebrows are scrunched and lips pulled away from his teeth.
You shudder at the his erotic beauty. You want to make him feel what you just did.
Determined, you lower your face to his chest to drag your tongue over his collarbones and then bring it lower to run it over his nipples. At his responding shiver, you bite his dainty silver chain between your teeth, letting your lips brush over his sternum. Your hands move down from his shoulders to rest on his abdomen, the tips of your fingers reaching up to flutter over his nipples.
You sit back up, relishing his raggedy moans. And then you let his pendant drop from your mouth in exchange for your hand that moves up to wrap over his throat. You tighten your grip just enough to make his eyes roll to the back of his head. And when he moans, you have to bite your lip to hold your own back.
“You like that, baby?” you husk, choking him harder.
Jungkook moans out a guttural confirmation. You whimper at his fucked out state, dragging your nails all over his chest and abs.
“God, you look so fucking sexy like this,” you mewl, completely out of it at this point. “Fill me up, baby. Fuck me full of your cum – shit, please…”
Your urging seems to undo something in Jungkook, because he suddenly opens his eyes to stare dead into yours and grips your hips with both your hands.
“You want my cum, baby? Want me to paint this pretty little cunt with my seed?” he grunts, all gravelly and intense, and your body heats up once again.
Fuck him and his filthy fucking mouth that keeps surprising you all the damn time.
Teeth clenched tight at the sight of his slitted eyes and sharp jawline, you nod. “Yes, yes! Please, Jungkook!”
Your grip on his throat loosens, and he uses that opportunity to grasp both your wrists in one of his hands and pull, making you fall onto his body, breasts smashed up against his hard chest. He then does what you did to him before and hooks a leg onto yours to flip the two of you over.
No sooner has your head hit the pillow than he pulls out of you to flip you on your stomach, immediately grabbing at your hips to line up your entrance with his length. A hand presses down on your upper back, giving you no room to raise your head up, and suddenly he’s inside you again – fucking you harder and faster than you were fucking yourself on him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re sexy from every dam angle…”
You muffle your screams into the pillow, bouncing in time with his thrusts.
“I’m gonna stuff you full with my cum, baby,” he pants above you, breathing as labored as your own. “But first, I need you to squeeze me hard one more time, yeah? Need you to come once more.”
You try to speak, but your tongue feels swollen in your mouth and you can just madly nod in response. Jungkook is satisfied enough, though, and humming, he drags his palm down your body to reach your head, gripping at your hair once again.
“Fuck!” you cry out, partly from the pain and partly because he fucks you even harder like this, your back curved down in a dip and head pulled back by his grip on your hair.
Your breasts dangle beneath you, every brush they make against the sheets sending sparks through your sensitive body. Jungkook’s fingers dig into the flesh of your waist, holding you in place as he mounts you. His hips snap against yours with a vigour, balls slapping against your clit with every thrust and the onslaught of all the sensations drags you up to the pinnacle, and a few more nudges of his tip against the sensitive spot deep inside you have you’re toppling over the edge again. Your fists clench in the sheets, ass pushing back against Jungkook and a long, drawn out wail escapes you.
“Fuck, baby, yes – give it to me, shit, you’re gonna milk me dry!” Jungkook sounds as fucked out as you feel, his voice turning breathy.
Your entire body spasms on his cock, teeth chattering by the ferocity of your orgasm, and he lets go of your hair in favor of pulling you up to press his front against your back, now fucking up into you.
“I’m gonna come, baby,” he mumbles into your neck.
“Ye-yes, Kook, come – come in me, fuck.” Your words, your whole body is jittery, knees ready to give out. You lick your lips, trying to gather your bearings and failing miserably. “Fill me up, baby!”
A curse is grunted into your hair, Jungkook’s grip on you becoming so harsh it may bruise. His chest convulses against you, hips pushing firmly up into you once again and then he whines your name, letting his forehead drop freely onto your shoulder. Warmth fills up your core in time with his jerky movements as he releases into you.
After a couple of extended seconds, he maneuvers the two of you to lay down side by side. Your back is still attached to him when he slips out of you and relaxes, his warm, heavy breath washing over your bare shoulders.
Silence falls upon the two of you when your breathing has evened out.
And that is when you realise.
You… really went ahead and had sex with him.
Jungkook. The Changeling you met for the first time less than twenty four hours ago. You had sex with… him.
Weren’t you wary of him because you weren’t completely certain he wasn’t a spy from Interpol? What the hell happened to that chain of thoughts?
You try to tell yourself that it was his blood that had you so aroused and mindless but you know that isn’t true. Aphrodisiacs only work on aggravating feelings of lust that are already there.
You wanted Jungkook the second you set your eyes on him, who are you kidding. And the time you spent getting to know him only made you fonder and more trusting of him, to the point where you want to cuddle into him and rest, right now.
Jungkook clearing his throat breaks you out of your thoughts. You turn around in your place, resting your cheek against his bicep when you face him. A smile curls on your lips when you meet his hesitant eyes.
“Hi,” he breathes, a tiny smile of his own growing on his face.
“Hello,” you murmur back, suddenly feeling demure in the wake of acknowledging your attraction towards this guy that extends beyond physical needs.
His eyebrows jump when you fidget nervously. “How do you feel?”
You blink at his question, brain suddenly flooding with his grunts and sexily scrunched up eyebrows.
Jungkook scans your face and his eyes slowly widen. “What…are you thinking about?”
You grin at him. “What did you expect me to think about with a question like that? I feel a bit sore, but a lot sated. Although my left nipple—”
“Oh my God, stop!” Jungkook yelps, eyes widened in alarm even as he chuckles. “That is – that’s not what I meant!"
He gives you an offended look, shifting away from you to tuck himself back into his underwear and trousers. You stifle a laugh at his state, lazily running your foot over the bed sheet to hook your toe in your top and pluck it off the bed to throw it over your body. How is this the same guy who just fucked the living daylights out of you?
"How does your energy level feel?" he asks you after buttoning his trousers up.
He has foregone wearing his shirt, choosing to lay back on the bed with just his skin tight jeans and his amethyst pendant resting atop his glowing skin. Welp, yeah, he’s definitely the guy who just fucked the living daylights out of you. You lick your lips at the tempting view he presents you with, slowing down in the pursuit of your underwear. When your gaze finishes its journey across his abs and up his chest to finally land on his face, you find him with an eyebrow quirked at you.
Oh God, he was watching you. And he looks so amused, fuck.
You look away, flustered, untangling your underwear from your jeans to quickly put it on.
“I, uh, I feel fine. Really good, actually,” you answer his question without looking at him. “Although…why did you do that, Jungkook? You really didn’t have to, you know?”
Jungkook shakes his head even before you’re done talking. “No, I absolutely had to. You looked so out of it, God. I thought you were…”
He trails off, face falling at the recollection. You watch his throat move on a swallow.
You give him a faint smile, unable to resist reaching forth to cup his cheek even when you don’t understand where the urge comes from. “I’m okay now, Jungkook. You, uh… you saved me, I guess.”
You somewhat struggle to accept the fact even when you know it to be a hundred percent true. Something blooms in your chest where a human heart is supposed to beat, and everything about it makes you nervous. You're worried Jungkook would quiz you on your awkward behaviour, but are grateful to find him looking still a bit lost. He nods, nevertheless, giving you a sad stare. You check his wounds, clicking your tongue at the one in his neck. A lot of blood has smeared all around it.
“You should wash up. And have, uh, have some food. It’ll help you heal quicker.” You squint in thought. “You take… capsules, did you say?”
Jungkook chuckles. “Yes.”
He gets up to use the washroom, returning within seconds with his neck and wrists all cleaned up. He then extracts a small bottle from the back pocket of his jeans and proceeds to pop a golden colored pill into his mouth. Wow, a literal, actual capsule then. Huh.
He comes back to join you on the bed and you both proceed to lie in comfortable silence for a while. You eye the clock on the wall which displays a few minutes after three of the night. You hum in thought, recalling Jungkook’s words about not staying in the same place for too long.
“How much longer?” you question him, and he turns to blink at you in confusion. You rush to elaborate, “um, us, I mean. Us – staying here. How much longer can we be here until they track you?”
Jungkook tilts his head to a side in thought. “We can wait till the morning.”
“Yeah, it’s already past three. We can wait for three to four hours, no worries.”
You nod. It pisses you off that you still don’t know why Interpol is after him. Can it really be worse than what you did? You don’t believe so.
“Why do you keep dodging when I ask you why you’re running?” you suddenly ask him, surprising yourself as much as you do him.
You were in the middle of a mental monologue, not really intending to ask him that out loud. You’re preparing to take it back and apologise for making him uncomfortable. You stop when you look at him, though.
Because this time, Jungkook doesn’t look awkward or shifty. He has a forlorn look on his face and simply sighs at your words.
“Well. You remember the woman we took blood from yesterday?”
God, as if you could ever forget her. You nod.
“This happened five months ago. I had received orders to hunt that woman’s husband down to take his place and send him to the Changeling Court. But when I got here…” Jungkook trails off, face overcome with a troubled expression. “When I got here, her husband was already dying of a chronic illness.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh? That must’ve made your job easier, then.”
Jungkook grimaces. “Objectively, maybe. But… the woman, she – she recognised that I was a Changeling. She begged me to let her spend some more time with her husband before I took him away. I gave her a month and made her promise that she won’t try to run away. I told her I’d wipe her memories afterwards so that she won’t remember anything about the exchange. I hid it all from the Court, though, just told them the woman was sharp and I had to map out a plan to fool her. They believed me. I hid in Tae’s hotel and bided my time.”
He exhales, looking completely crestfallen and defeated.
“When I returned to her place a month later, she had killed her husband to prevent me from taking him away.”
You gasp at the revelation, horrified eyes tracking the despondent way in which Jungkook runs a hand through his hair.
“She made a promise to me and then betrayed me. She probably didn’t know the consequences it had for me. The Queen was furious when she found out I’d failed to bring a human in. She immediately sentenced me to a hundred years of jail.”
Your jaw drops. “A hundred years?”
Jungkook morosely nods. “So I ran. Stayed with Tae for a few weeks, hidden under the scent of sex he spreads all around the place. I punished that woman by not erasing her memories so that she’d always remember killing her own husband. And also turning her into a blood bank for all my Vampire friends.”
You snort at that, recalling the blood extraction supplies you’d seen at her place.
But then you stop.
Did he say he ran from the… Queen?
“Jungkook. Do you mean to tell me that the Changeling Court is after you and not…?”
Jungkook gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. “I never said I was running from the Interpol, babe. You just assumed.”
You’re housing with Jungkook in an abandoned cottage in Barcelona, a week after the Palm Bay incident. Or, like, a week after you had sex for the first time. For the first time needs to be indicated, because it has happened again, multiple times, by now. Has become sort of a common occurrence between the two of you, in fact, because the compatibility and sexual chemistry that you have has made you somewhat ravenous for each other.
Even now, at the ass crack of dawn, you’re basking in post-orgasmic bliss because you don’t need sleep and Jungkook is horny at all times. Your hand traces mindless patterns on his bare chest, playing with his amethyst.
You hum in thought.
“You never really gave me a detailed account of how this stone works, you know. The other day you said you would.”
Jungkook breathes in deeply at your question, peering down at you and then at the gemstone in question. Then he sighs.
“I’d have to tell you about my entire history. Beginning from my birth.”
Your eyes widen in curiosity. “And why would that make my interest not pique more?”
Jungkook gives a fond chuckle, running his palm up and down your bare upper arm before he looks up at the ceiling of the wooden cottage and begins.
“My dad was a Warlock. I was born – I am the result of Changeling stealing.”
You freeze. “What?”
Jungkook gives you a sad smile, shrugging. “My dad found out something was off when Mom got pregnant. With his powers, he could tell she was pregnant with a non-human baby. He confronted her and she told him the truth.”
His smile falls, face growing incredibly sadder.
“He left, then. Left her five months pregnant in his house, surrounded by his things, and never returned.”
“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you mumble, moving up to brush a soft kiss against his downturned lips.
He flashes you a forced smile. “It’s okay. I’m okay, I’ve never even seen him. I don’t even know him.”
He looks down at his chest and picks up the pendant with his free hand.
“This was given to me by another Warlock. He’s been my guardian, here on earth. Because I’m a hybrid, I apparently had the potential of being a very dangerous Changeling. He gave me this stone to prevent that from happening. My powers as a Fae are locked in when I wear this. I can never do anything truly sinister when I have this on. I don’t know if you saw it, but I took it off that night, when we went to get blood from that woman.”
You gape at him, trying to join the dots. You’d been so lost in gazing at how sexy he looked back then that you had, indeed, totally missed him taking the necklace off.
“If you ever see me without it, be very wary.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m a Vampire that slaughtered five-hundred people because she was pissed. I don’t think it’s me that needs to be wary here.”
He chuckles at that, cuddling you closer into his side. You look up at his chiseled face.
"My dad's friend is the Warlock I wanted to see for this whole runaway situation. He's why we've come to Barcelona.",
You nod, humming in understanding.
“Does the – does your Queen know of your origin? Is that why she was so mad at your failure and wrote you such a harsh sentence?”
A wry chuckle escapes him at your question. “Precisely,” he says in response, not adding another word of explanation.
You scrunch up your nose. “Why doesn’t she simply kick you out of the species and let the Interpol deal with you?”
Jungkook shakes his head. “The Fae never let Interpol into these matters, let alone Changelings. We’re more secretive than the rest of the Fae, you know. Besides…” A smirk ticks up his cheek. “I think the Queen would sooner die than hand her only son over to the police.”
You open your mouth to retort—
Wait. What did he just say?
Your brain’s fuse blows and you sit up, all in your naked glory, and turn to stare at Jungkook in utter disbelief.
No. No way.
“No fucking way, Jungkook…”
At his coy shrug, you pounce.
“Ow, fuck! Baby, no – ow, stop—”
Both your fists rain furious punches all over his naked chest.
You twist his nipple, flick at his forehead.
“You’re the – you’re the Prince of the Changelings and—”
You dig your elbow into his side and he skids away from you, giggling at the ticklish sensation. You straddle him, pussy falling flat over his abs, and capture both his wrists in your hands.
Jungkook suddenly surges forward to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, using your grip on his arms as leverage to tug you closer. He massages the little bud with his teeth and you instantly leak a puddle on his abs.
Jungkook notices immediately, letting go of your tit with a low whistle. “Wow, making a mess on me already and I barely even touched you?”
You clench yourself tightly to keep your arousal from spilling out more, but unfortunately, that is not how biology works and you keep drenching his body in your juices. When you give up and just let yourself sit comfortably on his stomach, the grooves of his abs mesh against your swollen cunt. With a muted gasp, you try to move an inch back and then slide forward on his abdomen, your body heating up at the delicious friction his tight muscles provide you with.
Jungkook’s gaze darkens when he notices what you’re trying to do. He clicks his tongue, a salacious smirk working over his lips.
“You’re insatiable, aren’t you? No matter how much I keep you stuffed full of my dick all the time, you want more not an hour after I pull out.”
You shiver at his filthy words, walls fluttering around nothing.
“This greedy little pussy just can’t stand to be empty, huh?” he harshly hisses, bringing a hand forward to press his thumb to your clit which he has a full view of from his vantage point.
“Yes! Fuck! Don’t wanna be empty…can’t be empty. You fuck me so good, Kook…”
He smirks at you and flexes his abs, and you screech out a curse. “I’m not even fucking you and you’re leaking everywhere. My filthy baby. Ready to fuck herself on my abs, huh?”
You pull your bottom lip into your mouth. “You have a very sexy body, Jungkook.”
“Uh huh, so sexy you turn into a shameless slut at the sight of it?”
You whimper your acceptance of the fact, nod your head, and begin to rub yourself back and forth on his abs.
Jungkook releases small gasps of wonder in time with your movements, one hand coming up to support your waist and the other running up and down your body. He fondles your tit for a while, cupping the mound, and flicks his thumb across your nipple. Then his palm moves down, sliding down your abdomen to grip the soft flesh of your thigh.
You absolutely lose your mind over the perfectly harsh friction his abs create for your sensitive core, grinding yourself down on him as you slide back and forth.
"Fuck, what a perfect sight," Jungkook sighs, voice coming out throaty.
You choke back a sob from how desperately turned on you are at the perfect sight before you. Jungkook is a real piece of art – all sculpted face and body, voice of an angel and sexual prowess of the Devil.
"Delicious little baby, soaking me up in her delicious juices…"
When his lustful stare attaches to the place where your pussy is rubbing on him, you come undone, barely registering his thumb that comes in to rub your clit when your hips rise off him in the throes of your climax.
“Jungkook, Jungkook – fuck—baby! Fuck – fuck!”
His thumb doesn't let up, though, and your body is dunked in an ocean of pleasure when another orgasm hits you on top of the previous one you hadn't ridden out wholly yet. You thrash around, drowning and sinking into bliss before crashing against the shore when Jungkook collects your spent body in his arms and cuddles you on top of him.
Your body vibrates with aftershocks of the powerful double orgasm you just had, trembling at intervals, and little whines escape your throat each time a shiver passes through you.
"Rest, love, rest," Jungkook coos at you, his large palm rubbing your back up and down.
He hums in question and you try to focus hard on what you were gonna say to him before you got on top of him and let lust get the better of you. You clear your throat when it comes back, trying to ward the fuzz off your head enough for you to find the right words to express your thoughts.
"We can force the – the Interpol to get involved."
Jungkook makes a noise of surprise. "You were thinking about Interpol, right now? What sort of a weird kink is this, baby?"
You smack a lazy palm against his shoulder, whining when he chuckles.
"Gosh, I’m sorry, I'm sorry! Okay, we can force the Interpol to get involved. How?"
You lift your cheek off his chest to put your chin in its place. You grin at his cautious stare.
"Let's get married."
Jungkook's eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. "WHAT?"
"Hear me out! I'm the Interpol's most wanted, they'll have to intervene if you marry me. But you're the Changeling Prince, so they won't be able to just arrest your bride. And your mom won't be able to put you in jail with Interpol's eyes on you." You waggle your brows at his gaping mouth. "A win-win for all."
Jungkook pauses for a moment, as if to deliberate. You don’t blame him for taking his time, the wedding-thing sounds a bit too much to you, too.
But just as you’re about to take it back and try to, like, suck his dick or something, he shakes his head in what seems like disbelief. "I can't believe how much sense that made. When did you even think—no, you know what? You should ride my abs more. It obviously releases some genius juice in your brain."
You giggle at him. "Your gracious offer is very welcome and accepted with pleasure. But, we should talk to an expert before going through with this. Let's ask someone smart and experienced."
Your eyes brighten just as his widen. You're both thinking the same thing.
"Let's ask your dad's friend!"
Namjoon literally looks the same age as you and Jungkook, and you cannot figure out how he could be a friend of Jungkook's father. But he is, and his looks are apparently a result of some age potion he and Jungkook's father brewed, back in the time.
His office is so basic and organised, it could pass off as a professor's if it weren't for the actual titles of the book that line three out of the four walls in this space. Most of them are Grimoires and all of them are dark colored and leather bound.
Namjoon himself sits back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. His grey hair falls onto his forehead, the loose fitted, Bohemian print blue shirt he wears giving off more a Shaman vibe to you than a legitimate Warlock, but you try not to judge. Jungkook has proven to be nothing like what you expected him to be. You must keep your views for the rest of the world open like that, too.
“It’s doable,” are the first words he utters.
You turn to Jungkook to find him goggling at Namjoon the way you are. He had been silently contemplating for the past five-something minutes, ever since you and Jungkook filled him in with the plan-ish something you two came up with in your horny states.
“It is? For real?” Jungkook is quick to ask, leaning over the table that Namjoon has an immaculate display of rocks and crystals over. You’ve been standing a safe distance away from it, and given the way panic runs over the man’s face at Jungkook’s movement, maybe you’ve been doing the right thing. “We just came up with, uh…”
He looks towards you, as if to ask you to help him communicate better, but he has to be crazy, right? All you can think of is his abs and how they feel against your pussy. You hope to God that Namjoon cannot read minds or you’d have to jump off a cliff.
“I can’t read minds but I sure can read faces,” Namjoon grumbles in disgust. “And discern smells. Can you both stop thinking about sex for three minutes? You’re making this place stink up so bad, ugh.”
Namjoon proceeds to light an incense stick and a scented candle with the same matchstick, while you try to sniff the air and it just smells like… sandalwood? Jasmine? Pine? Fuck, you’re worse at odors than someone in your profession should be.
“Sorry, hyung,” Jungkook guiltily mumbles with the face of a chastised five years old.
“Your mother will be furious, Jungkook. But she won’t really be able to stop you.”
“Maybe.” Jungkook gives a soft smile, his gaze hanging midair. “But… you know she’s still in love with dad, hyung? Still has a picture of him hanging in her bedchambers. I don’t think she’ll be able to stay angry for long. Her loving someone out of her species failed. I feel like she will want me to succeed.”
Despite knowing the kind of life Changelings live and being fully aware of the fact that the Queen is the one who orders all of it, your heart still breaks for Jungkook’s mother. Your gaze catches an agonizing look on Namjoon's face before he quickly wipes it off.
“I know, Kookie,” he says with an exhale. “And I hope that is the stand she takes. Interpol will most certainly come for her, though,” Namjoon adds, tilting his chin towards you.
Jungkook puffs his chest out. “As her husband, I’ll force them into a compromise. Everyone’s scared of the Fae. And I’m the freaking Changeling Prince. I’ll even take the necklace off for good measure.”
He sounds like a whole badass and you kinda wanna jump his bones at his possessiveness. Maybe it should be weird – you've only known each other for less than ten days and haven’t really labelled your relationship through all the fucking; you two are thinking of getting married to stop people from chasing you across the world to put you both in jail. Everything about this is so unconventional, that Jungkook talking possessively about you should be weird. But it somehow isn't. You're somehow liking it. A lot.
You know you aren’t in love with him – it’s definitely, definitely way too soon for that. But you can very much see yourself careening headfirst towards it with every passing passage of time.
“Huh.” Namjoon squints at Jungkook. “If only they knew what a goofball you actually are, kid.”
You nod your head rapidly, jumping closer to Namjoon’s desk. “Right?”
“You see it, too, right?”
“God, yes. The first time I met him, I thought he was a hatchling of some giant creatures’ species!”
“I know, right? I totally get it! He looks like such a manchild, doesn't he?”
“What the… hell, you two? Stop—”
taglist: @shrimpmsg @codeinebelle @afangirllikeme-blog @chimchoom @mwitsmejk @kookxin @annie-johns (couldn’t tag ’cause the blog is blank!)
© jimilter | 2021
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Re-colored BTS, Min Yoongi
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nugatory | p.jm. | drabble
pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)
rating: m (18+)
genre: smut | angst | college!au
summary: Park Jimin is many things. Park Jimin is a responsible, smart, handsome and musically talented Taekwondo black belt. Park Jimin is Kim Taehyung's best friend. Park Jimin is a good friend. Park Jimin is a compulsive matchmaker. Park Jimin is many things – but he is not the guy you should be sitting in a car with, right now.
warnings: swearing + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts in a car, fingering, penetrative sex) + possible allusions to some infidelity if you squint?
word count: 3.2 k
note: y’all. i couldn’t let butter!jimin keep ruining my life without acting out a bit, could i? this one started off as a pwp, but then i ended up combining it with a plot i had in my head for a while, and this turned into more plot and less porn, but. i’m okay with that, tbh. also! i’ve used one my older styles of writing (going back to 2016-ish) with this one. hope you all like it~ 🥺💜
— feedback is always appreciated!
Park Jimin is many things.
He is an astoundingly handsome, cheerful – and yet somehow mysterious – psychology major that you shared Freshman year's communications class with. He is the only rich kid among the majority on campus that doesn't flaunt his wealth to scholarship kids like you. He is kind, helpful, generous – did you mention handsome? – perfectly athletic and perfectly aesthetic.
Park Jimin is a responsible, smart, handsome and musically talented Taekwondo black belt.
He is also someone that gets excited at the prospect of claw machines at fairs. He is also someone that looks at the universe with galaxies in his eyes. He is also someone that doesn’t realize he will always be more exquisite than any art his best friend might ever create.
Park Jimin is Kim Taehyung's best friend.
He is the guy that stood next to Kim Taehyung when Taehyung asked you to the Freshman dance. He is the guy that told you Kim Taehyung has the most gigantic crush on you. He is the guy that set you up on the first of your many dates with Kim Taehyung.
Park Jimin is a good friend.
Park Jimin is a compulsive matchmaker.
Park Jimin is many things – but he is not the guy you should be sitting in a car with, right now.
"You really don't have to worry about me, Jimin," you mumble, eyes flickering all over his face – you always tend to drink him up the best you can, whenever you can. “I know I stupidly called you here, but I was just in shock. I’m okay, now. I’ll be fine.”
"No, I do have to worry." His fingers thread through his hair, your eyes hopelessly follow. "This was stupid and reckless of Tae. I'm sure he'll come back to his senses soon."
You blink. Jimin really has absolutely no grasp of this situation. But he obviously thinks he knows everything, which is making this conversation progressively difficult.
(His muscles bulging beneath his jeans and the t-shirt he wears are a contributing factor in making this conversation difficult, too, you won't lie.)
You breathe out, partly to collect your thoughts, and partly because you've been inhaling too much of his heady cologne and it’s making you think about—
It's making you think about things. That you should have no business thinking about. Because you and his best friend have been going on dates. The same best friend who is currently, as you speak, on a date with someone else. Alluding to the reason why you have called up Park Jimin to see you in a confused panic, after ten, at night, at your place.
"Taehyung – he, um. He didn't see us going anywhere. We'd been on nine dates, but… He said he didn't think I was actually as into him as he is into me. He didn't want to go on like that."
Jimin’s lips part. His brows hike up. You shrug, forcing your gaze away from the gloss on his lips.
“It’s been that way for a while. We were barely even texting. I think he has concluded that I don’t like him like that.”
Jimin rests his forearm on the steering wheel, almost leaning over the center console to catch your gaze. "Do you?"
His eyes pull you in like always and you're lost, just staring into their depths, as your mind ceases to think up thoughts that don't involve you and him naked and tangled up with each other in—
Your intake of breath is sharp, short and cold. Your insides are just as warm, turning everything in your head into incomprehensible mush. "Y–y–yeah?"
"Are you into Taehyung the way he is into you?" he whispers, and you follow the shape of his lips as they move. “Because you must know, he’s liked for a whole semester.”
You lick your lips, mindlessly nod, and then reach out with a finger to trace his cupid's bow. He doesn't pull away, he doesn't even flinch. "What do you think?"
His warm breath washes over your fingertip as you press it against his lower lip. His body jolts when your nail rims the plush cushion. "I… think he's my bestest friend in the world and he's basically in love with you…"
You shake your head, and your other hand travels past the console to grip his thigh. Your nails dig in. His breath catches. "He's on a date with someone else, as we're speaking."
"I just—he was so into you, I thought you'd be good for each other."
Past the cloud of, well, something incomprehensible, there is disappointment in Jimin's gaze. And that is how you know he means it. You shouldn't be surprised, really, because Park Jimin always means everything he does, he doesn't have a single conniving bone in his body, but you still are. Part of you has hoped against hope that he set you up with Taehyung to get closer to you, himself. Which – sounds like a really flawed plan and doesn't really make much sense, now that you think about it.
But you still hoped.
Now, though. Now you know otherwise.
"How can I be good for someone else when I have never even been good for me?" you don't know why you confessed to that, but the words just tumble out of you and you let them. "I'm a mess, Jimin," you whisper, accentuating your point by massaging his lower lip by your index finger. "I destroy people, and I nearly destroy myself in the process. I am an emotional and psychological train wreck. He's better off without me. Anybody would be better off without me."
Jimin grips your hand on his thigh with his own. “Not anybody,” he murmurs, and through his furrowed brows and muddled eyes, you catch an emotion you have been well acquainted with for years, now.
Your heartbeat picks up as Jimin massages small circles on the back of your hand. You remove your other hand from his face.
“Yes, Jimin, anybody,” you say with conviction, even as you desperately hope for him to offer himself up as an alternative. “Everything is a wreck inside of my head. I can’t do relationships, I can’t even date someone without messing up.”
His pupils expand and his tongue flicks at his lower lip. His hand tightens in a grip on your other hand. His gorgeously bleached hair curl over the side of his head. "You don’t have to date, then.”
You scoff. “Taehyung would never go for—”
“I’m not talking about Taehyung,” Jimin’s voice comes out three octaves lower. “And you’re not talking about just anybody.”
You nearly stop breathing as he brings his free hand to your face, pushes a tendril of your hair behind your ear and traces a knuckle down the side of your face, your jaw, to hold your chin.
“You say you’re not good for you. Can you try to be good for me, then?" He pulls your face closer to his. “Would you let me save you from destroying yourself? Let me try to take care of the wreckage, hmm?”
Your body spasms when he reaches for the hand you’d retracted, pecks your finger before pulling it into his mouth. His tongue swirls, his teeth scrape and his eyes roll back as he sucks. He lets go with a pop.
Boy, would you let him take care of whatever he wants.
"Can you, sweetheart? Can you be good for me?" He sounds like he’s at the brink of something, just teetering on the edge, waiting for you to flick a finger before he free-falls.
Well. You’ve been teetering for years now.
"I want to be.” You don’t sound like yourself when you speak.
And you don't sound like yourself when he pulls you on top of him. You don’t sound like yourself when your back hits the wheel, your thighs cage his, your hands instinctively twirl in his hair, and –
Your core presses up against his length.
He's hard and straining against his tighter than sin jeans. You claw at his t-shirt. He takes it off in a swift, smooth motion — agile and rhythmic in everything he does.
You don’t feel like yourself when your eyes feast him. Because how could you ever get this lucky? How could you ever get to feel Park Jimin’s shirtless self beneath you? You had long since succumbed to your destiny of perishing in pining.
And yet, here you are.
You lean back to marvel at his toned, chiseled angles, you let your fingers smooth over every groove and crevice and line of sinew muscle you can reach. You trace his tight abdomen, nails scraping at the last of his eight-pack before veering towards his toned v-line. You shiver at the dark promises it leads to, looking up to meet his eye. And you shiver more when his feral gaze catches you.
Then he pulls you into a kiss and you're lost.
He tastes like stale coffee and breath mints and bad decisions –
He tastes delicious.
His tongue plunders your mouth, teeth bite into your lips—he pulls, pushes, drinks up, feasts. You throw your all into the kiss, meeting him in the middle with your tongue swirling with his, teeth latching on to suck at it. He groans into your mouth – all loud, and guttural and manly. And then he stops. Pulls away.
His wholly black eyes dig into yours. His lips are wet, swollen and bitten. You did that.
"You have to at least talk to him—"
"I have another important business to tend to, currently."
You grind against him and make your point. He bites down on his lip. His arms snake around your waist to cage you against him, he pulls you down on him.
You don't recognize yourself when you moan.
Your shirt is off, your shorts are pulled down and your panties are pushed to a side—
"You can never tell him." Park Jimin glides two fingers over your wetness, making a bigger mess of you. "Never."
You don't intend to, because what you do with Park Jimin in your apartment's parking lot at eleven pm on a Saturday night is nobody's business but yours.
His fingers part your entrance and slide in you abruptly, and you see stars. Your head tilts back on a long, drawn out moan, Jimin’s fingers picking up pace inside you. You rock on his hand, you claw at his arm, you desperately latch onto his shoulders and rest your forehead against his to ground yourself. He watches you with his half shuttered eyes threatening to eat you up whole.
His lips press into yours, tongue swiping through your mouth, curling up behind your teeth – it's messy, it's sloppy, it's the most arousing kiss of your life.
His lips drag down the column of your neck, tongue licking at the sweat droplets quickly gathering above your collarbones, his fingers curl inside you, his teeth latch onto your shoulder.
You explode under his thumb's press against your clit and sob into his neck when he drags its nail over the sensitive bud. “Jimin, Jimin, too much~ ah!”
He presses some buttons in his fancy car and his seat inclines. He pulls you to the backseat with him. “You okay?” he breathes on your face, hovering inches above you.
“Never been better,” you truthfully breathe back, heart coiling in your chest at the radiant grin he rewards you with in response.
A blast of hot air hits your forehead, your thighs and your shins. You jump, realizing he has turned some sort of hot air blower on. “For privacy,” he says, gesturing to the rapidly fogging windows, and then flicks a switch to make the air stop.
You both gaze at each other. Your eyes flicker all over his face to save every last bit of it to memory. You self-consciously swallow when you see him do the same. “Jimin…”
He leans down to sponge a kiss to your sternum, and then your hips buck into his as his tongue licks a path on the wells of your breasts peeking above your bra. A breathless moan leaves you when he scrapes his teeth over your cloth covered nipple.
You both pause for a moment, wide eyes locking in surprise.
And then you’re ravenous.
He strips you bare when you tug at his belt, and you rush to return the favor. You struggle with getting his boxers past his plump ass as he grips onto your flesh, peppering bites down your hips, squeezes your boobs, licks at your nipples—
You grip him, warm and heavy, and glide your thumb over the leaking tip. His head falls into your nape, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “Jimin, ple~ase,” you moan.
He plucks out a golden foil from his wallet, meeting your eyes as he tears the packet and rolls the condom onto himself.
Your hands are pinned next to your head in a flash, his tongue teases your pulse point, teeth toy with your earlobe, and you writhe in want under him, eyes watering at the sweet torture.
And then he fills you up with a single thrust.
You freeze on a gasp.
His hair hangs over his eyes, irises lost to the lust storming in his pupils, his mouth gapes open, his chest is heaving.
“You good?” His voice is deeper than the ocean.
You've never been more turned on in your life.
He hisses at your frantic nod. “Words.”
“Yes. Yes, oh my God, Jimin, move—”
He thrusts into you at an unforgiving pace. Your whole world literally tilts off its axis as he meets that spot inside of you, and your body wrings beneath him, twisting up to hold onto some buoy to ground you, but he is unrelenting even as you grip at his neck — his teeth encase his lower lip, brows furrow and eyelids flutter as he drives deep into you.
You groan at the sight, moving your hips to meet him. You rock with him, never catching your breath, and your nails just dig dig dig into his meaty back, drawing patterns all over the smooth, delicious surface.
Your release closes in on you, and you chase it with your mouth clamping onto Jimin’s neck, your eyes screwed shut as you groan into his skin, until—
He draws back, standing on his knees above you like goddamn Adonis in this goddamn huge SUV of his, and the sight of sweat droplets trailing down his neck, framing his pecs and racing down his tight abs has your whine of protest dying in your throat as you gawk. His lips are parted as he breathes, a couple of sweat soaked hair strands sticking to his brow, and his eyes —
Oh God, his eyes have an animalistic gleam in them as he hooks his arms beneath your knees, and drags your hips to him.
You cry out when he enters you at this angle, every thrust pushing at what feels like your cervix, and the pleasure is so blinding it's almost painful. One of his hands maneuvers to your center, a finger rubbing at your clit, and you yelp out a distorted version of his name, completely unwarned when waves over waves of hot, sweet, toe curling climax crash into you.
Jimin chases you into completion, his broken moan of your name filtering to you through the post-orgasmic buzzing in your head. His lips connect with yours as he relaxes your legs. You both pant into each other's mouth after two, lethargic, sticky kisses.
Your sweaty bodies make a disgusting sound when you detach, and both of you scowl together, laughing when you catch each other’s expressions. You sit up on jelly legs, barely able to sit on your ass when your sensitive center protests.
You both dress up in silence, although you don’t feel it to be awkward in the least.
You’re still mulling over how to frame in words what you have felt for him for nearly three years, how to tell him and even what to tell him when you’re such a relationship-phobe, when Jimin releases a long sigh.
You look up in surprise. That was not a contented sound. It was one of… was it defeat?
Jimin looks at you with a serious face.
Your heart plummets.
One of the many things that make up Park Jimin is also his brutal morality. And right now, you can see it in his face that he thinks he’s done something wrong. Your shoulders hunch up in subconscious defense — you will not say a word, you decide.
“Taehyung is my best friend in this entire world,” he begins, stomping firmly on any remaining embers of hope left in your chest. “He can never, ever, ever know this happened, okay?”
You give a numb nod.
“I’m sure he’ll come back around and try to talk to you again. If that happens, don’t feel like you owe me anything, okay?”
You look up to find Jimin’s eyes searching your face. He looks so soft and grave and sad, that it hurts to look at him. You look down and nod again.
“I — I feel like you two will happen, you know, when the time is finally right.” His words sound stiff. Practiced, even. “Don’t let this come in the way of that.”
Even though you decided you wouldn’t say anything, your mouth is nearly bubbling with too much to say, at this point. You take a deep breath. “And what if he doesn’t come back. What then, Jimin?”
Jimin looks at you with wide, clueless eyes. “He…will. At some point.”
“And what about until he comes back? Am I expected to wait around?”
Something crumples in his expressions. “No, of course not. You can do whatever you want. Even after he comes back, you don’t owe anybody anything.”
“Whatever I want, you say?” you ask him quietly, your heart thudding in your throat.
Jimin swallows, obviously catching on. “I mean…I guess?”
He licks his lips and his gaze zeroes in on yours. “Whatever you want, yes. Certainly.”
“Great.” You take his acquiescence for what it is, and grab his wrist. “Okay, then. Until he comes back, right?”
Jimin nods, haltingly, gaze switching between your hand and your eyes. “Right.”
You feign a smile you don’t actually feel because something about this doesn’t sit right with you. This boy, you realize, deserves a lot more than being someone’s dirty little secret. He is Park Jimin, after all, a guy that is so many things that you could never run out of listing them and—
Park Jimin is a gorgeous celestial metaphor in himself.
Because he may look at the universe with galaxies in his eyes, but he is your only galaxy, and all your stars shine at you through him when he smiles.
Park Jimin is many things — but he is not the guy you want to just casually fuck.
But your pathetic self would take anything he would allow.
And so you pull his hand and stumble out of his SUV, sharing shy glances with him as you pull him with you up the stairs, all the way to your dorms.
Park Jimin is many things—
nugatory (adj.) – worth nothing or of little value.
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♡ Coffee dates with Taehyung
Inspired by @vantecaffe's new url! <3
♡ do not copy/repost
♡ sources given below:
source source mine
source mine source
mine source mine
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♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
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tete is the softest boy
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