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jessikahathaway · 10 months

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Cat Got Your Tongue? - JJK (M)

Hello everyone! I’m back with another Jungkook fic because I have Jk brain rot rn. Please enjoy the story and just as a reminder to everyone-I am no longer doing taglists. I apologize for the inconvenience to anyone, but please enjoy the fic! Feel free to send in asks or chat with me, I love to hear from you all <3

Special thank you to Ryn @queenofthedamnit and Ella @oddinary4bts for Betaing this fic for me! I appreciate you both very much!

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

Genre: College!AU, FWB to Lovers, Romance, Smut, lil bit of angst

Warnings: Miscommunication, emotionally constipated OC (who’s surprised? not me), fuckboy jk (that is a warning y’all), Reader is a member of BM’s Big Tiddy Gang, Hobi and Joonie being boyfriends (because I love them both), sick kitten (she gets better!), vet tech yoongles (phew that’s an entirely different wip), SMUT WARNINGS: Virgin Reader, loss of virginity, oral sex (male and female receiving), protected and unprotected sex (do the former not the latter), creampie, vaginal sex, breif daddy Kink (i’m sorry Ella), dirty talk, titty sucking, hair pulling, Jk gets freak nasty.

Words: 18.1k

Summary: You were exhausted from schoolwork and just needed a chance to unwind. Jungkook, campus fuckboy, offers his services to help alleviate the stress from studying but is he going to cause more stress than he relieves?

“Honestly, this is ridiculous.”

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you tried in vain to study.

“I don’t see why you’re having so many issues lately,” Namjoon, your tutor and quasi friend, sighed before rubbing his face in mutual frustration.

“I don’t either!” you cried, resting your head in your hands. It was rare for you to be frustrated or worked up... Or show any emotion other than moderate irritation.

It was that time of year again where the big exams start hitting before you can run off and celebrate with your friends-well, more like celebrate with a big glass of wine and a job well done. And hopefully you won’t lose your scholarship and have to go back home to the absolute anarchy that is your home life.

The middle child of seven you hate everything that life had to offer you.

It was stagnant. They were comfortable with mediocrity, you were not. You had drive, and passion and you weren’t going to waste it by staying in the same dinky town with your four older brothers and two younger twin sisters.

Since you weren’t into the sports scene like all of your brothers, and you weren’t young and docile like the twins you were kind of outcasted by your family. You knew they loved you in their own way, but it wasn’t enough to make you stay when you turned old enough for college.

Your parents helped you with what they could but it’s hard being parents to seven children. Let alone one that wants to travel damn near four hours for school.

They made it happen, and so did you.

Nothing was going to keep you away from this. Not a damn thing.

So, you came here with an objective and you won’t leave without accomplishing it to the absolute best of your ability. And that meant failure wasn’t an option.

But right now?

It was encroaching a little too close for your comfort.

Namjoon was a saint, he was patient and tried every way to explain something to you in hopes of being able to ease your worries and midterm stress but there was really nothing he could do. Nothing was sticking and it was just causing you more and more frustration and anxiety.

“Hey, don’t freak out,” Namjoon tried to calm you. “Maybe you just need to... I don’t know, get all your pent up frustration out, hm? Maybe like kickboxing or um... Regular boxing? I don’t know, something where you can hit stuff with your tiny fists.”

“I love that you think that was a compliment,” you sighed in defeat. “I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna have to go back home and I’m gonna have to be some wife for a fucking farmer. I’ll have to have ninety children and my vagina is gonna look like-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there because no part of me wants to know what a vagina looks like after ninety children okay? Okay,” he said, face turning slightly green at the thought. “And no, you aren’t going to fail, you aren’t going to go home and be a farmer's wife unless you want to. You’re not going to give up either.”

You gave Namjoon a very rare, but genuine smile and he squeezed your shoulder gently.

“Joonie!” a bright voice called.

Before Namjoon could blink his boyfriend, Hoseok, was on his back.

“Oof!”

Laughter filled the air between the two and you waved at Hoseok neutrally. He gave you his beaming smile that always made you want to return it. Although you weren’t sure your smile was that blinding.

“What’s up? Did they cancel practice early?” Namjoon asked.

“Nah, they’re doing lower level stuff today so the teacher said I could take it off. Because I am a protege as they say,” he snickered.

Namjoon just pushed him before turning back to you. “You’re gonna do fine, Y/N, promise. We can schedule another time but I think you should probably take a break,” he said.

That dreaded word.

Break.

What does it mean? Why?

To stop something?

Or for something to do the act of breaking as in falling apart?

You didn’t like breaks. They gave you time to think, they gave you time to ruminate over your own issues and anxieties and then you found yourself wallowing. No distractions means too much time alone.

Seeing as how you have few friends, even fewer since moving here.

Namjoon was your tutor, but you wouldn’t say that you were like... Super friends or anything. He cares about you, it's in his nature, but you two rarely hung out outside of study sessions. Hoseok you knew by association with Namjoon.

There was Yeji, she was a freshman this year and had asked for some help with a project after seeing you as the TA. You’d fallen into a mother hen role with her and will literally fight anyone who tries to hurt her. She’s your baby, you birthed her. But you don’t really see her as a friend friend, if that makes sense. You feel responsible for her, but you know she’s not stupid either. She’s a capable young woman.

A few of your friends back home, Felix and Bomi are always available for a chat if necessary as well. But they still live there, and their mindsets are very much of the small town variety.

Nothing wrong with that, but you’d rather not get stuck in a place where people either don’t care to grow and try to force others to think the same as them.

Ah, herd mentality, thou art a heartless bitch.

Okay, maybe your comfort show is the big bang theory, who cares?

“Y/N...?”

Ah, people were still here.

“Right, sorry...” you mumbled.

Hoseok looked at you with a small pout before looking at the papers. He’d never seen you struggle so much. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Everything okay in that wonderfully smart brain of yours?”

You winced, because right now you felt everything but wonderfully smart. “Um, not particularly, but I’ll figure it out I guess. And not through boxing,” you said, giving a pointed look to Namjoon who just seemed more embarrassed than anything.

“You know, you’re rather feisty when necessary,” Hoseok chuckled. “Boxing would be entertaining.”

“I’m not the sporty type, I’m afraid,” you said, resting back on the chair.

“Why did you suggest boxing in the first place?” Hoseok asked, trying to catch up.

Namjoon frowned before sighing. “She’s frustrated and angry at herself, I was trying to think of a good outlet that would maybe get her to focus a little bit.”

Hoseok nodded. “Well, I mean there’s always sex,” he pointed out.

You froze while Namjoon perked up. “Fuck! You’re right!’

Hoseok smiled at his boyfriend like the fucking psychopath that he is while suggesting you do something so... so out your depth.

“See, Y/N?” Hoseok offered. “Just find a nice boy or girl or nonbinary individual who strikes your fancy and... well, let it out.”

“I know you think that will help, but it won’t,” you frowned.

“Why? Sex always helps me get out a little pent up frustration,” Namjoon said with a pout.

Hoseok nodded wistfully. “Oh yes, it certainly does,” he smiled with a cheeky wink.

“Right,” you said, voice cold and chopped while you gathered your materials.

“I’m sorry, Y/N I didn’t mean to overstep-” Hoseok started but you stood quickly and ignored him.

“Namjoon, can we meet again in two days? My project isn’t due until next Saturday so I’ll have some time to rest,” you said.

The older man looked at his boyfriend who looked rather guilty before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll send you a message with schedule times and you let me know what works for you.”

You nodded before heading off towards the exit of the library. You didn’t turn back to see Hoseok and Namjoon share a worried look before you left the premises.

“I mean it’s not a bad idea,” Yeji said as she worked on her project in the classroom after the lecture.

“Are you kidding me?” you said, turning to look at her as you wiped the whiteboard down.

“Not usually no, it goes over your head when I try,” she said. “You’re very literal.”

You pouted before turning back to the board. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It can be,” Yeji said, eyes still on her laptop.

“If this is a Y/N roasting session-”

Yeji shut her laptop and looked at you, genuine care swirling in her eyes. “It’s not that Y/N, you know that.”

You shut your mouth.

Yeji had a tendency to go on tangents when she felt strongly about something or someone or a topic. She was gearing up for one right now and you had a feeling you were not ready for what she was going to say.

“Why do you think that having sex to let loose and have a little pleasure and fun is such a bad thing?” she asked, resting her head on her hand.

“I-I don’t think it’s bad,” you defended. “I just don’t think it’s for me.”

“But you wouldn’t know,” she countered.

With a sigh you faced her fully, crossing your arms before looking her dead in the eye. “I’m a virgin, Yeji. I’ve got the V-card very much so intact and probably not going anywhere any time soon.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she said. “And you don’t have to go all the way with another person. You can just do oral or mutual masturbation or-”

You waved your hand dismissively. “I’m not interested in having sex that’s going to last two minutes and leave me feeling sticky and used, thank you.”

“Not all sex is like that,” Yeji said kindly. “If you find someone you have good sexual chemistry with then it likely won’t happen.”

“I’m on a college campus. Where am I going to find someone who isn’t a one pump chump?”

“I think you have a very skewed vision of what sex is,” Yeji sighed. “Sex isn’t supposed to be crazy all the time. Sometimes it is just one pump and done, for some people that’s enough. Then there are times where you’re edged to the moon and back and then there’s casual. You’ve pigeon-holed something you know nothing about because you know nothing about it and it makes you uncomfortable. You like knowing everything, you like not being caught off guard because when you are, it makes you feel like you’re back home all over again.”

Your heart was trembling in your chest.

“I tend to forget you’re a psych major,” you sighed, but she just gives you a reassuring smile. She may be young but she has an intuition and perceptivity not common in anyone period. Age negated. “It’s not that I don’t want to have sex... I-I just don’t think I want a relationship right now and I also don’t want to be disappointed. Is it wrong of me to have expectations?”

Yeji shook her head. “Not really, at least I don’t think so. There’s nothing wrong with expressing your wants and needs to someone. It’s also not a bad thing to want sex and to not want a relationship. There’s several people who enjoy sex but are happily unmarried or whatever. It’s your choice.”

You nodded. “Okay... Okay-if! If! It is a very big if...” you muttered. “If I decided I wanted to do it with someone, where would I even start?”

The younger woman’s face broke out in a smile at you. “I think I might have just the guy.”

“Jeon Jungkook, 25, senior and sports science major. He’s a little older than you but not by much. He’s also got quite the repertoire of sexual prowess,” Yeji winked.

You two were in your apartment late one evening. You and Namjoon had met today and you apologized for your attitude at the last meeting and begged him to apologize to Hoseok as well.

He was shocked at your urgency but was quick to apologize as well.

“What kind of repertoire are we talking about here?” you asked, applying the face mask carefully.

“Well,” she began, sitting cross legged on your bed with a mask of her own on. “He’s super attractive, just look at those legs my god...”

“Describe more please,” you said, painting on your clay mask with intensive care.

“Apparently he’s into sports, photography and food,” she said, scrolling on her phone.

“That’s pretty generic,” you sighed.

“I’m not done,” she pouted.

You turned to squint at her. “Don’t pout it’ll ruin your mask, keep talking, I haven't said no yet.”

Yeji nodded before scrolling down some more. “Oooh, he’s kinky,” Yeji chuckled.

Your brows rose in shock. You sputtered out a feeble, “W-What do you mean, kinky?”

“Well, it’s an older picture but he’s got a girl on a leash and shit for halloween,” she chuckled.

“Okay, I’m not hating on the BDSM community but I don’t really wanna be on a leash before losing my virginity,” you said, finally finishing your mask before coming out to join her on your bed.

“Just look at him,” she said, handing you her phone while she went to pee.

And look you did.

This man was the epitome of the male specimen. He was handsome, toned and strong, he had an attractive face and beautiful jawline that was enough to make you cry. Soft cheeks and surprisingly gentle doe eyes that looked into the camera a few times.

Although he did seem like the typical fuck boy.

“He’s got a tongue emoji and a water spray emoji in his bio, what the fuck,” you sighed.

“He’s allowed to advertise if that’s what he’s offering,” Yeji said as she wandered back out.

“Okay, I’ll at least say he’s cute,” you admitted, looking at some of the other photos on his account. He had really nice pictures on here, some of the city and others of the campus.

“Cute? Cute?! Y/N, you’re looking at all the soft ones,” she complained.

“Am I not supposed to?” you asked in confusion.

Yeji sighed before taking her phone back. “Would you have sex with him?”

You thought it over for a moment. “I mean I’d probably have to meet him beforehand but I can’t deny that he’s attractive to me.”

She nodded in excitement. “Alright, perfect. Then we just need to get you to approach him!”

You felt your blood run cold. “I-I have to approach him?”

Yeji blanked. “You think he’s just gonna walk up to you and say, ‘hey! Saw you were a virgin looking for some great sex for stress relief. How about now? Or Tuesday at six thirty?’ Y/N, of course you’ll have to make the first move. You’re the one seeking him out.”

Damn, when she puts it that way.

“Okay! Okay okay, fine. How? Where do I find this elusive fuck boy?” you asked, laying back.

“Well, I’d suggest a party but those really aren’t your scene. Unless you want to go, in which case I have several dresses that would gladly take the fall for your endeavors,” she said.

“Yeji you’re very sweet to offer, but I’m afraid my boobs are a tad bigger than yours,” you sighed.

And by a tad, you meant a lot.

You were born in a farming community! The women were... curvier than average...

“Yeah, we should probably find something that will accentuate those bad boys. Or girls... However you want to gender them I guess, if at all,” she said.

“Yeji,” you sighed. “I don’t want to go to a party. I’d rather keep this as transactional as possible.”

“Well... I mean sex isn’t supposed to be a transaction unless you’re into that, but it doesn’t have to be a big deal, Y/N. Promise. It can be just a simple, ‘hey, I’m looking to lose my virginity and I don’t want it to be a total disaster, care to help me out?’ and if he says no then you move on to other avenues.”

Doesn’t have to be a big deal?

Yeah right...

Finding the said campus fuck boy was harder than anticipated.

But, of course, you find him on the worst of days...

Your period had come three days early, the cramps were worse than usual and you hadn’t showered in two days due to your bathroom flooding in your apartment.

But after a very desperate and tear filled phone call, Yeji confirmed you could crash at her dorm. Her roommate had moved out in search of a single bedroom dorm so she said the bed was yours as long as you needed it.

Thank God for Yeji.

So, as you waddled to your campus library you sat down in the stiff ass wooden chair and got to work. Thankfully, the place was empty, besides for Seokjin who mainly just read magazines and scoffed for comedic effect. Although, he was nice to look at when the words on your pages started swirling together.

Just as you were settling into your routine, you heard the door to the library opening. Seokjin’s voice called out.

“Yah! Jungkook,” he hollered. “Your book is almost a week overdue.”

Your head snapped towards the door. And, like some cruel universal joke against you, the very man you were trying to have in your bed walked in looking like a four course meal... While you felt and appeared to have just been recently run over by a semi-truck.

“Ah, sorry Jin,” he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

You caught yourself right before the perfectly timed swoon.

Stop!

He’s here! You finally have your chance to talk to him, and better yet, you’re alone!

Well... Sans the weirdly attractive librarian.

“Do you have the book?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking at the... what is he doing with his foot? Why is he toeing the ground like some character in an anime?

“You see, ah, Jin,” he said, coming closer to the counter.

“No, I don’t see a book, nothing to see but a gigantic pain in my ass,” Jin sighed.

“I have the book... I guess technically, I have half of it,” Jungkook explained.

“No,” Jin said.

“Huh?”

“Nope, you did not just come in here with half a late book and expect me to save your stupid ass again,” the librarian scolded.

Jungkook gave an entirely too adorable pout for a senior sports med major.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain. You found that you were staring, so quickly you turned your head back towards your studies, seemingly indifferent to the men behind you.

You put your headphones on but then their conversation continued.

“I love you,” Jungkook whined. “Please? Please please please just let me off the hook this last time and I’ll give you Bitna’s socials?”

Jin was quiet for a second. “And that other friend of yours, the cute one who wore the crop top at the last party we were at together,” he said.

“Eunwoo?”

“That’s the one.”

“Deal.”

Jin gave a pained sigh before speaking again. “Alright, now that you’re done being a public menace what are your plans for the rest of the evening?”

“Not too sure, but-oh,” Jungkook stopped. “Sorry Jin, I didn’t know there were people here right now.”

“Ah, she’s here all the time, don’t worry about it.”

They’re talking like you aren’t there, so either they saw your headphones and assumed you weren’t listening or they really didn’t care about you listening in.

“What’s her name? Do you know?” Jungkook asked.

“Hah, good luck,” Jin said, making some noise so he was probably getting back to work.

Good, finally be useful you handsome brat.

“What? Is she not into guys?” you could hear the questioning tone taking over his voice.

“Not too sure, I’ve seen her with the same three people damn near all year. She doesn’t do human interaction it appears, her name is Y/N. Always returns her books at least a week early or comes in and renews them, you know, like a polite young lady! Unlike you, freaking barbarian,” he huffed.

“Hmm, she’s pretty,” he said, it wasn’t said in a way that would make you uncomfortable. He was saying it in a way that was just observational.

“Yeah, but watch out. She’s kinda mean sometimes, she told me once my haircut made me look like a Newfoundland! Those big freaking water dogs that look horrific when they’re wet!” He whined softly.

Ah.

Damn.

You did unfortunately say that to him.

But you didn’t mean it entirely in a bad way...

“Aww, poor thing,” Jungkook laughed.

“Go over there and get shot down, then you won’t be so happy,” the librarian was speaking in pout.

“Fine!” Jungkook said.

Your heart picked up speed.

Fuck!

What do you say? What do you do??

This attractive man was coming over to talk to you-

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder.

With a jolt you turned instinctively to look back and saw that Jungkook was now much much much closer. He smelled incredible. He smelt like sandalwood and spice, his skin was glowing and his eyes were crinkled with a cute little smile on his face.

“Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he said, offering you his hand.

“I know,” you said and your hand flew to your mouth as your eyebrows raised at the blunt words that came out of you.

Jungkook just chuckled softly. “Then I’m sorry for not extending the kindness to you, what’s your name?”

“Y-Y/N,” you said.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Your heart was beating so fast and you couldn’t calm it no matter how much you tried to ‘breathe through your nose and out through your mouth.’

Well, maybe it didn’t work if you were doing it at the speed of sound.

“Pretty, I like that. Don’t know that I’ve heard it before,” he stated, walking around to sit in the chair next to you. He did stop before sitting down and looked at you before you gave him a gentle nod that he could join you.

At least he had manners.

He was already way ahead of the average male on this campus.

“Thanks,” you said with a gentle tone.

“So, what’s your major?” he asked. “Any grand dreams after leaving uni or are you just going to run head first into tomorrow without looking back?” His tone was light, joking. But you still felt your heart hammering in your chest. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Uh... Well, I’m a History major with a minor in English,” you said, smoothing your notes down with your hands nervously.

Jungkook nodded in acknowledgement. “That sounds tough, I never had the patience for foreign languages,” he pouted. “If I’m not good at it right away I tend to get bored easily.”

“What’s your major?” you asked, even though you knew it already.

“Oh, I’m a sports med senior,” he said with a soft smile.

You nodded, looking back at your notes. Jungkook gazed at your papers and then his eyes moved back up to you.

“So, do you have any classes today?” he offered, resting his head on his hand as he watched you fiddle with the same notebook.

“No, I’m done for the week,” you answered honestly.

“Would you like to hang out with me then?” he asked.

You turned and raised a brow, confused at his interest. Even though this is what you’d been hoping for.

“You hardly know me, what are we gonna do?” you asked.

Jungkook chuckled. “I’m not going to pretend I wasn’t hoping for at least your number,” he said.

Your eyes widened at his statement.

“And maybe a bit of fun too if you’re interested. I’m not looking for anything serious, if you’re not into it then I’m cool with leaving you be. Just thought I’d shoot my shot,” he said with a little wink.

You could feel the heat on your face as you looked at the table awkwardly. “I-I’m interested,” you said, voice soft.

Jungkook’s eyes darkened as he smiled at you. “Really? Well... how about we get out of here then? Your place or mine?” he offered.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. “U-Uh mine is currently flooded, unfortunately... And I can’t do it today, exactly,” you said, already embarrassed.

“No?” he asked, voice gently teasing.

“I’m uh... well,” you struggled to say it. “Currently having to put those activities on hold.”

Jungkook looked confused before he seemed to understand. His eyes widened a bit before giving a softer nod. “I see, I apologize. The last thing you probably want is some guy hitting on you right now, sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude about it.”

You shook your head quickly. “No! No no, it’s fine. I would’ve said something if I wasn’t comfortable, but thanks.”

“Well, when you’re feeling better maybe we can hang out,” he said with a cute little smirk.

“Um... yeah, that’d be fun,” you said.

“Then give me your phone, I’ll put my number in there,” he said, holding his hand out. Like a robot you dropped your phone into his open palm with ease. You were shocked at how quickly you did it too.

He quickly put his number in, sending himself a text so he had your number as well. He handed you your phone back carefully, giving you a little smile as you tucked it away.

“Well, I’m going to head out. But, let me know when you want to get together, I think we could have some fun,” he said with a wink before standing up and walking out the door.

Jin watched with a shocked expression while Jungkook flipped him off before blowing him a kiss.

What in the hell did you get yourself into?

After the most awkward meeting with the campus fuckboy, you find yourself panicking when he texts you first.

Four days later.

Your period had ended, thank god. So now, you were trying to make plans to finally get your cherry popped as it were.

Yeji thought you were being hilarious while you fretted over what to send him.

“Honestly, Y/N, he sent you a hello text with the waving hand emoji, it’s not that serious. Just say hi back,” she encouraged.

“How? What do I say, Yeji?” You cried, holding your phone to your chest as if it could help calm your racing heart.

“Legit, just say Hi with a smiley face,” Yeji said with a pout.

“Okay, okay I can do that,” you stressed.

Jungkook: hello 👋

You: hi 😊

Jungkook: are you feeling okay?

You turned to Yeji with a worried face. “He’s asking me if I’m okay! I was on my period when we spoke oh fuck I wanna die-”

“Christ! Y/N! Quit being so dramatic, it’s fine. You’re fine. It’s all fine!”

Yeji was rubbing her temples and you swallowed hard.

She was right.

This was supposed to be an even exchange between you and the fuckboy. So you might as well cut to the chase. It didn’t have to be so difficult, right?

You: yeah, I feel fine thank you.

Jungkook: sure, did you want to hang out tonight?

You: can we be transparent?

Jungkook: ah, are my male charms coming off too strong? Sorry, but this is me asking to get in your pants if you want to. If not, that’s fine too.

You: no worries. I’m interested but I’ve got a bit of an issue.

Jungkook: ah, inexperienced?

You: you know I was hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

Jungkook: 😂 I get that

You: so is that okay?

Jungkook: yeah, I’ll send you my address and you can come over.

You: okay 👌

You turned to Yeji with a panicked expression. “He wants me to come over now…”

She nodded excitedly. “Alright! Grab some of your cute underwear and go! I’ll keep my phone on, you just showered so you’re in prime time for some good ole fashioned hanky panky,” Yeji teased.

You nodded. “Alright, okay. I got this, I can do this.”

You grabbed some lingerie you bought online in a wine drunken stupor and threw it on.

The deep teal color looked ravishing on you. The bra securing your girls into place. You grabbed some stockings and rolled them up your legs and threw on a simple skirt and long sleeve shirt before heading towards the door.

Yeji gave you a reassuring squeeze before you left.

“If you need me just give me a call, okay?” She asked.

You nodded gratefully before heading out the door.

Half an hour later you were at what you hoped was Jungkook’s apartment.

You knocked on the door, standing outside and holding your arms nervously. A few moments passed before Jungkook opened the door. He looked at you before giving you a quick smile as he stepped back to let you in.

With a small smile you walked in and looked around. Everything was relatively clean. It was obvious someone lived here but at the same time it wasn’t filthy, a little cluttered in some areas but overall rather nice.

“It smells nice in here,” you commented.

Jungkook winked. “I lit some candles for you,” he said.

You rolled your eyes before putting your purse on the counter.

“So,” Jungkook said, grabbing some drinks from the fridge. “When you say inexperienced, how little we talking?”

You froze.

“Uh… well,” you squirmed as you stood in place. Trying not to feel too awkward. Usually, you were the one making others squirm with inexperience. Your brain was clearly scrambling trying to make you not sound like a complete idiot.

Jungkook approached with a drink, just a can of Coke, but it was thoughtful nonetheless.

“I’m a virgin,” you said, holding the bright red can in your hand. The moment seemed oddly poetic.

“Ah, I see,” Jungkook nodded. “Well that changes things a bit.”

You looked at him quickly. Why did he sound like that?

“I’m sorry… is-is that a bad thing?” You asked. Usually you were far more confident than this, but everything this involved was out of your depth.

“Oh, no. It’s not bad to be a virgin, sex should happen when you’re ready and comfortable. That’s not what I’m getting at. I just don’t personally sleep with a lot of virgins,” he said, shrugging as he took a drink.

“Why not?” You asked.

“Personal, but all right,” he teased. “It’s a lot of pressure to be the only one with experience. Having to teach you not only what I like but what you like too. And, virgins tend to get a little attached. Not saying that’s a bad thing, for some people their virginity is important and what not but-it’s a lot of work.”

You pouted.

Well you didn’t think about it like that. You thought all men had that inner desire to take someone’s first time. It was pretty sexist looking back on it, so you apologized internally to the general populace before looking at Jungkook to do the same.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that, I understand if you don’t want to-uh… sleep with me,” you said, rubbing your neck.

Jungkook chuckled. “Ah, that’s not the case either. I said I don’t sleep with a lot of virgins, not that I haven’t in the past or wouldn’t continue to do so. I’m just pickier, I guess,” he said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m very much interested in sleeping with you.”

“Why?” You asked, eyes big with confusion.

Jungkook came closer, starting to back your body up against his wall. “Well, physically you’re my type. And, you’re a little awkward so it’s fun to tease you. Also, I saw a peek of your bra when you bent over to take your shoes off and I almost fucking busted,” he said. “Your tits are incredible…”

You flushed at the blatant flirting.

“I can take my shirt off and show you more,” you offered, hands already on the hem of your shirt.

“Mm, maybe in a minute. Let me kiss you first,” he offered, coming closer. You instinctually tensed up, eyes shutting tight as you tried to keep your breathing level. You waited for a moment for his lips to touch yours but they never did.

All you heard was a soft chuckle. “You look like you ate a lemon, do you not want to kiss me?”

Your eyes popped open before giving him a frown. “I do, I’ve never kissed anyone though... I don’t know what to do.”

Jungkook’s brows raised. “Wow, never been kissed either huh?”

“No, I didn’t want to be distracted,” you said quietly. “But... But now I want the distraction, so, please kiss me?”

He didn’t need any more encouragement as he leaned in and brought your lips together. You didn’t know what to do so you just let him press against you for the moment, until he was pulling back and looking at you with soft eyes. “You need to breathe, Y/N,” he said.

With a woosh of air you realized you’d been holding your breath since he leaned in. Your head went spinny and Jungkook held you by your waist to keep you up, even though there really wasn’t any danger of you falling. “Easy pretty,” he cooed while making your heart race almost painfully. “Want me to kiss you more? I’ll show you how to do it,” he whispered softly against your pouting lips.

You followed the rhythm of his mouth, gently pushing when he pulled and vice versa. It wasn’t rocket science, but there was a definite pattern you had to work hard at mastering. But, finally, Jungkook pulled back with a lazy smile.

“Hey, that one was pretty good. Can you do it again?” he asked, moving in to crowd your space again.

With light hands you wrapped them around his neck. Jungkook placed his hands on the small of your back now, pressing the two of you together tighter than before. A soft gasp fell from your lips as you grabbed his shoulders.

Jungkook chuckled before ducking his head into your neck and placing soft kisses along your collarbone and shoulders.

More comfortable with the proceedings than before, you moved to allow him space to move his mouth. Jungkook sighed against you, licking his lips as he pulled back. You looked into his eyes and swallowed the lump that threatened to form in your throat.

“Let’s go to my room,” he said, eagerly moving you throughout the apartment.

Rather quickly you were moved into a tidy space that had you-admittedly-surprised.

“Oh, it’s really nice in here,” you said, looking around before Jungkook was moving into your space once more.

“Thank you, I’m thinking of redecorating,” he said, holding your waist.

“But it’s nice-”

“I’m gonna throw this shirt over there, your bra over there and your panties on the lamp,” he winked, making your heart thud dangerous in your chest.

“Wouldn’t that start a fire?”

“Not if you’re wet enough,” he smirked.

God damn, who knew fuck boys could talk like this??

You sent a prayer out to whatever deity would be listening. God? The President? An Alexa for fucksake? Anything that would keep your heart from absolutely obliterating your rib cage as this man teased you and played with your body.

However, you noticed the distinct lack of stress from your tests and exams and damned assignments. Your mind was fully occupied with Jungkook and his kisses and wandering hands.

How could you worry about those pesky responsibilities if this man killed you from lust?

Jungkook was laying you on his bed as he groped your chest with one hand while the other held him over your body. Next, his lips. They were tangled with yours, which were finally comfortable within the pattern and changes he was executing. You were a quick learner, and this was proving to be no different.

Thank fuck.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked, hands running under the hem of your thin shirt. His hands caressed your skin, making your body jolt at the newfound sensations. With hot cheeks you nodded, letting him peel the garment from you with ease as he tossed it away.

Redecorating indeed.

Jungkook gaped at your breasts sitting in your bra. Well, rather being suffocated by it at this point. His eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of your tits. He kissed the top of your cleavage, leaving gentle nips and sucks along the flesh causing shivers to roll down your spine in lust.

You leaned up briefly to unclip your bra, letting the straps drop from your shoulders and down to your elbows. Jungkook eagerly moved and helped you toss the piece away from your body.

“The color was pretty, but holy shit your tits are amazing,” he breathed, kissing your throat and neck. “Can I suck on them?”

You nodded quickly, giving him the green light which he accepted gratefully.

“Jungkook!” you gasped as he sucked a hot hickey into the bottom of your breast.

He smiled and looked at you. “Yes baby? What’s the matter?”

“That scared me,” you said, pushing his shoulder in annoyance. But honestly you were just being fussy at the embarrassment his touch was bringing you. You’d never felt this out of your depth. Not knowing stuff made you nervous, and your body didn’t understand half of what was going on. Jungkook didn’t seem annoyed, however, at your attitude. His eyes just got softer as he leaned in.

“Did it really scare you? Or are you embarrassed? Cause it’s normal, don’t be embarrassed baby, your tits are so pretty... They almost don’t fit in my palms,” he said, cupping your chest and palming one to prove his point. “So sexy...”

“F-Feels good,” you huffed softly,

He hummed, squeezing your breast and rubbing his thumb across your nipple teasingly. “You’re so sexy, baby,” he teased. He leaned down and captured your other nipple between his lips and lathed his tongue across it.

“Oh~” you mewled out. “Jungkook...”

“Y/N, you’re gonna make me bust in my pants if you say my name like that...”

“Just like it,” you mumbled, lips pouting as you squeezed your eyes shut at the pleasurable sensations running through your body.

“I know you do honey,” he purred, kissing your cleavage and across your tender chest. Sucking and nipping along the way, he found your nipple again and gently pulled it into his mouth, teasing it to a peak with his tongue. His thumb rolled across your other one, pinching it and tugging the flesh to bud just as the one in his mouth.

“F-Fuck...” you stammered, struggling to keep your mind functioning. It was difficult when almost all of these sensations were new. His lips kissing and touching along your lips and skin, his hand rough but tender on your flesh, his voice speaking hot and arousing words into your ears. It was a marvel you hadn’t combusted yet.

“J-Jungkook,” you whispered, making his head perk up at your breathless call.

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes matching yours as he panted. His lips were glossy from his spit that was also covering your chest.

“Don’t stop, please,” you said, voice weak and whiny.

You’d never heard yourself make noises like this. Other than when masturbating. And honestly, that usually had to be a silent affair. Burying your pleasure in your hand as you came. But you didn’t have to be quiet now, and Jungkook seemed hell bent on ensuring you were everything but.

“Fuck, I won’t,” he breathed. “Unless you tell me to stop I won’t.”

As bare minimum as that statement was, it still made you feel more comfortable around him. The words he spoke were genuine, he wasn’t going to force you.

“Take your shirt off,” you said, tugging on the bottom of it.

Jungkook smirked as he sat up from you, pulling his top up and off of his frame. He tossed it to join yours, wherever it had landed. They were long forgotten and gladly so at this point. He leaned over you once more, showing off his tattoos that had your mouth watering in surprise. You knew he had them, but to see them up close like this was something else entirely. Jungkook was fucking hot, and the further you went the more you realized this was going to be the perfect remedy for your annoying study slump.

“Like it baby?” he asked, running his thumb across your bottom lip to tease the swelling flesh with a teasing glance.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I like it a lot...”

He smiled, bringing his lips to yours once more. “Can I touch your pussy? Wanna feel you...”

“B-Be gentle,” you stuttered, despite your best efforts.

“Of course, Y/N,” he said, running his hand underneath your skirt and touching your wetness with a soft breath. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby... little pussy is waiting for me huh?”

“I-I,” you whispered, a gasp leaving your lips at his thumb pressing against your clit softly. His breath fanned across your face softly, his eyes looking at your expression with intensity.

“You need to tell me if something hurts, okay? It shouldn’t be unbearable and it won’t hurt for too long, if it does let me know,” he said, running a finger down to your entrance and teasing your hole gingerly. “Gonna be snug for me, yeah?” he asked, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them off your legs.

“Yes,” you breathed, answering both of his questions with that single word. Jungkook’s eyes leveled with yours for a moment before pushing his finger inside you. You squeaked softly, heart hammering in your chest as your pussy swallowed his finger greedily. He captured your lips in a kiss that was entirely too consuming for you to think of anything other than his presence above you and inside of you.

He didn’t even stick his cock inside you yet but it was still wholly overwhelming. Is this what it felt like to be feminine? Your whole life you hadn’t really given a shit about you. All you cared about was your passion and your drive but ultimately... you had gotten lost in the sea of success. Leaving yourself as collateral.

Jungkook was awakening things inside of you, things you weren’t certain you were ready to deal with but... But perhaps it didn’t matter right now.

All that mattered right now was the sensations he was pulling from your body. Because shit... he felt so so fucking good.

“J-Jungkook,” you whined out, hands reaching for his arms.

He shushed you, pushing another finger inside you as his thumb continued to pet your clit. “It feels like a lot, doesn’t it baby?”

You nodded your head, holding his bicep with one hand while you bit your knuckle on the other.

“It doesn’t hurt, right?” he said, looking into your eyes.

“No, j-ust a lot, like you said,” you breathed, trying to keep yourself even moderately in check. But honestly? The longer you stayed with Jungkook, the less you felt the necessity to hide and be shy. He didn’t seem to be expecting anything, he knew of your lacking experience but didn’t seem dissuaded by it.

“Then you lay there and take what I give you like a good girl,” he said, kissing your jaw as he started to pump his hand inside your pulsing core slowly.

You wish you could cringe at that basic fuckboy response, but the rasp in his voice and the bob of his throat as he felt your walls clench around his fingers at his words made you unable to snark at him. Because even if it was basic, it was turning you on.

“O-Okay,” you whimpered, turning your head to connect your lips with his.

“Jesus,” he breathed, kissing you back eagerly. “You pick up quick,” he said with a soft smile. “Now kiss me like you mean it.”

You did as he said, holding his face between your hands as you kissed him messily. Jungkook kept pumping your pussy to create the desperate ache in your lower stomach and cunt. He adjusted your kiss and lips every so often, detaching from your tempting mouth to kiss at your neck and shoulder as he worked your body over.

Finally, you could hardly take it. “J-Jungkook,” you whispered. “I-I’m gonna cum, please-”

He nodded. “I’ll get you there baby, need you nice and wet when I fuck you,” he sighed, finding your tells quickly. “Cream my fingers, Y/N, want to see you do it.”

With his words ringing in your ears you cried out your release, cumming hard on his fingers just as he wanted. Your hips and thighs trembled as he rubbed your pussy walls to coax your climax through you.

“Good girl, easy baby, did so good for me,” he whispered against your chest. “Breathe, Y/N, it’s alright.”

You didn’t realize you were still shaking. You’d never felt like that before. Heart stammering just as much as the rest of your blissed out body.

“Holy shit,” you said, voice weak and thin from panting and whining.

“Made a mess babe,” he teased, eyes sparkling with desire and lust for you. He put his fingers in his mouth for a moment before looking at your core with a hungry gaze. “Can I have a taste, Y/N? I’ll be gentle...” he murmured, leaning down and kissing your lower stomach as if to hold himself back. Carefully, he slid the stockings down and off of your legs, sending you a teasing wink-as if thanking you for the sexy attire.

“Y-Yeah, you can for a bit but... but I want you to fuck me,” you said.

Jungkook chuckled before kissing your sensitive pussy with tender lips. “Believe me, if you manage to walk out of here I will count it as a failure.”

You rolled your eyes but there wasn’t any genuine irritation. His voice was coated in sarcasm and gentle teasing, making you relax even further into his embrace.

“Tug on my hair,” he said. “Want you to tug on my hair while I eat your pussy...” he husked, leading your hand to his silky locks.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you breathed, watching his head move closer to your core.

“I hope you do,” he winked before diving in.

A sharp gasp came from your throat without you even thinking about it. The reaction was utterly instinctual as Jungkook brought his tongue to your clit, rolling around it-careful of your sensitivity. He moaned against your core, as if your flavor was enough to turn him on.

Jungkook was licking and sucking loudly. It seemed so messy and utterly vulgar but you couldn’t help but watch with morbid fascination as your core leaked more and more wetness at Jungkook’s actions.

“Yes baby, give it to me,” he groaned against your core. “Fucking wet little cunt,” he growled.

“Jungkook!” you whined, hand finally gripping on the strands of his hair.

He huffed hotly against your thigh as he kissed and sucked hickies into the supple flesh. “Fuck-fuck! Your pussy tastes so good,” he seemed almost shocked. “Fucking best pussy...”

You almost questioned his statements-but he didn’t give you the opportunity, moving his mouth over your core once more. You pulled on his hair, feeling the overwhelming sensations of pleasure consuming your mind and body as he worked his tongue over your clit and throbbing core.

“M-mmm! Jungkook, Jungkook please~” you cried. “I’m so close!”

He could tell. Your core was throbbing again and you were no doubt worked up from the sensitivity of your first orgasm. His cock was fucking aching at the mere thought of getting to be inside your soaked cunt.

“Give me one more minute,” he said, capturing your clit in his mouth and sucking.

“Jungkook!” you sobbed. “I-I can’t, I’m gonna-please!” you cried desperately.

With a gentle nod he kept up his pace on your clit as his fingers plunged back inside your hole.

“Cum baby, cum and then I’ll fuck you. Gonna fuck this pussy so good, gonna make you cream my cock next,” he snarled, licking the filthy slick that covered your cunt with eager lips.

“I-I’m gonna-mm-haa~” you squealed as you came again, body heaving from the pleasure that this man ripped from your body once again.

“Easy baby,” he purred. “Feels good doesn’t it? Like my mouth on your pussy like that?” he asked, raising a brow as he licked the remnants of your orgasm from his lips and fingers.

“J-Jesus,” you hiccuped, eyes slightly teary from the intensity of the pleasure you’d received.

“Not quite baby, but I appreciate the compliment,” he said, voice breathless as he kissed you.

You registered the flavor of his kiss but there was your own mixed in and it made your stomach feel funny at the different kinds of sensations filling your body. “Jungkook,” you breathed against his mouth. “I-I’m ready now,” you panted. “Please... Please fuck me now.”

Jungkook swore against your neck before pulling his pants off and grabbing a condom from his bedside table. He tugged his boxers down and off releasing his cock and jesus fucking christ-

He was big.

It was so much different than seeing a dick in a porn video. It always seems common and typical in those scenes but in real life? In front of you like this?

It was a little intimidating to be honest.

Jungkook crawled back into bed with you, spreading your legs. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked, eyes boring into yours for the answer to his question.

“Y-Yeah, just... Nervous,” you said, biting your lip.

“We don’t have to,” he said.

“I want to,” you answered quickly, realizing it was the truth. You did really want to do this. Not only to get it over with, but because maybe you were having a good time with him. You felt like someone was seeing you. Not just your cold exterior and study centric front.

The you that had always been there but just didn’t get the opportunity to be seen.

What an odd time to have a revelation such as this.

“Okay, deep breath,” he said.

You did as he said and jolted when his cock rubbed against your core, the cold sensation surprising you. “I put some lube on, it might be a little cold, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Look at me, tell me if it hurts too much okay? Shouldn’t be too bad.”

With a soft nod Jungkook pushed forward, burying his cock halfway inside you in an easy thrust.

“Ah!” you squeaked out, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Don’t tense up, try to relax,” he said, kissing your neck and jaw.

He was right. It wasn’t excruciating pain, but it was certainly uncomfortable, and it felt so much bigger than you thought.

“F-Feels like a lot,” you whispered, voice whiny and high.

“I know baby, just breathe. Doing so good,” he praised, making the glide of his cock inside you that much easier. Jungkook touched his forehead to your temple, easing himself the rest of the way in. His hand held tight to your thigh, soft pants hitting your neck.

“Jungkook,” you whispered.

“You good?” he asked, pulling back just a touch to look at you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Like I said... just a lot.”

He nodded, moving forward just a touch to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed back, mouth now finding a pleasant rhythm with his.

“Fuck,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips for just a moment. “Can I move? I need to fuck you before I fucking bust from how tight you are,” he moaned.

You clenched at the sound of his desperation, which caused him to rut forward into you. “Kook!” you squeaked the shortened version of his name at the sudden jutting of his hips which he quickly apologized for.

“S-Sorry, you squeezed me so fucking tight-I’m already so fucking hard.”

His words weren’t entirely making sense to you either, your mind was pretty occupied with his body more than his speaking.

It was so odd to share your body with another person. He was legitimately inside of you. How did that make any sense? But it felt so good. You hadn’t expected that part. You thought he’d touch you and you’d cum once, if you were lucky. However, you shouldn’t have doubted the prowess of the one Jeon Jungkook. Campus Fuckboy extraordinaire.

“-can I?” his voice cut in through your cock drunk thoughts.

“What?” you asked.

“Can I move now? Please? I need to fuck you now,” his breaths were short and stilted, like he was fighting to hold back the primal urge of fucking you into his mattress.

You nodded. “J-Just be careful,” you said, voice thick with want.

“Yes baby, whatever you want,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your heart was the thing that twinged after hearing those words.

Surprisingly enough. This fuckboy was more interesting than you originally believed.

His hips meeting yours in a seamless glide had a shocked moan fall from your lips. “J-Jungkook-”

“Kook,” he said above you. “I liked that one,” he panted, giving you a dopey smile. “You can call me Kook. I like when you say it, fuck,” he said, brows furrowing in pleasure. “Fuck you feel so fucking good.”

You briefly wondered if fuck was the only cuss word he knew. But you chided yourself, because honestly you didn’t even think you could speak currently.

He gave steady thrusts inside your center, making you mewl in surprise at the burning pleasure it created in your tummy.

“Kook,” you breathed, mind whirling in shocks of pleasure.

“Yeah baby, I’m right here,” he said, voice sweet as sugar. “Fucking you so good baby, do you like my dick? Like when I fuck you?”

“Yes! Yes I do!” you cried, hands wrapping around his neck.

Jungkook lifted your upper body, pulling you into his lap as he kneeled on his bed. You were sitting on his lap with his cock deep inside your snug walls. You held onto him as he adjusted your legs slightly so your hips wouldn’t ache so bad.

“There baby, hang onto me, yeah? Let me fuck you like this,” he whispered, kissing your chin as he started to roll his hips up against yours. “Move back against me Y/N,” he encouraged, guiding you by your waist, grinding your ass in the cup of his pelvis. “Just like that...”

He moaned against your chest, his hand creeping down to your ass to pull you closer. As if you two were melded together enough.

“Fuck, Jungkook-feels, so big,” you whined, arms winding around his neck as you dropped your ass on your own, Jungkook’s hands guiding you.

“Yeah baby, ride my cock... feels so fucking tight inside you, best pussy right here... Where’ve you been all my life, fucking shit,” he growled, pulling you in for a messy kiss.

You were too scrambled by the feeling of sex that you didn’t quite capture the meaning of his words. Maybe that was for the best.

Jungkook’s mind was reeling. It had been a while since he’d had sex with a virgin, but he never remembers it being this intense. But shit, you squeezed him just right, making his mind stutter while you whimpered softly from his cock rolling into you deftly. It was everything he could do not to blow his load.

“F-Fuck, baby, ‘m gonna cum,” he panted. “Pussy too tight on my cock, fuck...”

“Okay-I... I’m getting close too,” you moaned.

Jungkook reached between the two of you to gently massage your clit with the pad of his thumb. “Feels good baby? Cum for me, I wanna see you do it again.”

You whined and cried at his thumb on your sensitive clit, but it was slowly pushing you to your end.

“Kook! Jungkook!” you sobbed, gripping his shoulders and upper back desperately. “Fuck!”

“Make me cum baby, come on,” he growled, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. He dropped you on your back, following you shortly and slipping inside your twitching pussy.

“Yes, wanna make you cum,” you mewled. “Cum Jungkook, please,” you said.

He held you tightly, rubbing quick circles on your clit to finally push you to your third orgasm of the night.

Shockingly, he did it, making you gasp and shriek his name. He felt how tight your walls became during your orgasm and he gladly followed you in pleasure.

“Fuck yes, yes baby make me cum, holy shit-Y/N,” he groaned, jutting his hips into your sloppily. With a pleasured cry, Jungkook emptied himself into the condom.

You two didn’t know how long the aftershocks of your orgasms lasted, but you were certain it was close to five minutes before anyone spoke.

“You okay?” his voice rasped, making you turn your head with a soft expression on your face. Jungkook felt his chest stammer at the bleary but pleased look in your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”

He nodded. “Sit there, I’m gonna go get us some water and help you clean up.”

Jungkook gave you a soft smile before moving away and tossing the used condom in his garbage and heading into the bathroom. Your heart was thudding hard in your chest.

You did it.

You’d had sex.

And it was the furthest thing from terrible you think you’ve ever experienced. Was all sex like this? Or was it the sex with Jungkook that happened to be incredible. You can see what all the other girls he’d slept with were talking about. He literally made your legs turn to jelly.

“Here’s some water, sit up?” he asked, moving in to sit next to you.

You flushed at the fact you both were still naked. “Thanks,” you whispered, voice much hoarser than you’d anticipated. With eager sips you drank the water, handing him the cup when you were finished. He pushed you on your back gently and moved between your legs.

With the remaining shame you had you squeaked and grabbed his wrists for a second. He looked at you, startled. “What?”

“Sorry,” you murmured. “Caught me off guard, I just expected you to have me take care of it.”

“Nah, I got it, you probably can’t walk yet either,” he mentioned before cleaning up the mess between your thighs. You shivered at the sensations but shortly Jungkook was tossing the dirty washcloth into his laundry and laying on the bed with you for a moment.

He breathed in deeply, like he had just eaten a great meal and was digesting.

“Do I have a chance to fuck you on the regular?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“What?” you asked, snapping your head to the side to look at him with shock written across your features.

Jungkook gave you a handsome smile. “If not I apologize for saying it so bluntly, but I liked having sex with you, I want to do it again. Or, you, respectively.”

You couldn’t quite believe him still. But, you couldn’t help the twinge of interest in your stomach. He was attractive, and he was offering you stress relief realistically whenever you both wanted it.

“I-I guess? I mean, what does that make us? Friends with benefits? Booty call buddies?” You wondered out loud.

Jungkook chuckled softly. “Whatever you want, I guess,” he stated.

You looked at him with a raised brow but he just gave you another attractive but cryptic smile-hiding his true emotions with the alluring smirk.

“Something tells me you don’t mean that,” you sighed. “But, I guess you text me, or I’ll text you. Whenever,” you said, moving to grab your things.

Jungkook sat down on the bed, having pulled on his boxers while watching your frame collect your clothes and start pulling them on. You sat down next to him in silence, tugging your stockings back up your legs and covering your skin that had Jungkook frowning.

“What?” You asked, turning to him.

He quickly snapped out of it, looking at you with a mock pained expression. “You could make a grown man cry baby,” he said.

“You’re going to make me cry with those lines,” you said with a sour face.

“Feisty,” he said with a teasing grin.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the heat that settled in your face. You’d never really been flirted with or anything of that matter, so to have him so blatantly made your heart stammer and squeeze in ways you weren’t necessarily prepared for.

Jungkook watched you grab your things, bending to grab your things from the floor and flashing your panty covered ass to him. He sighed, fighting the urge to take you again right now. Plus, you had no clue you were presenting so nicely to him-

“Quit staring at my ass,” you said with an unamused expression.

Jungkook laughed a bit before leaning back on his hands. “You’re so different when you’re not having sex.”

“You’re more annoying,” you said with a blank expression. The front was back and Jungkook found it odd how quick you went back. He wondered if you’re truly this way or if you merely didn’t know any other facets of your personality.

Something fun to discover...

“Did you want a ride back?” he offered, in lieu of a response to your sour attitude.

With a flushed expression you bit your lip.

“Yes please.”

Jungkook smiled. “Let me get dressed.”

Jungkook was waiting for his phone to ring. To ding. To alert him of anything in regards to you. The little virgin that had him wrapped around your finger so tightly. And you hardly knew it.

The two of you had been texting here and there, and had sex twice since the first time. And Jungkook could be honest with himself.

You were his favorite person to have sex with.

Hands down, no cap, your pussy was top notch and-and there was something about you specifically that he couldn’t put his finger on. He liked making you flustered and listening to you talk about your classes after the two of you were done fucking. You were curious about so many things, and there was a lot running through your mind at all hours of the day.

And, as much as you wanted to give off the cold bitch exterior, Jungkook knew you were kind at heart.

Because you’d been feeding a stray cat outside your dorm building for the past two weeks and he was certain if you could you would’ve brought it inside already. The weather was getting colder and you were no doubt worried that the poor thing wasn’t going to make it through the harsh weather.

“She’s so cute, Jungkook! You should come by and meet her sometime,” you said one afternoon as the two of you sat in the library while you studied.

“I don’t like cats,” Jungkook commented offhandedly.

“I don’t like you,” you snarked, and Jungkook rolled his eyes at your snotty remark. Even though he knew it wasn’t true. If you didn’t like him Jungkook had an odd feeling you’d make yourself scarce after the interactions you’ve had.

“You like my dick though,” he huffed.

You squeaked out in embarrassment and smacked his shoulder. “Shh! Don’t say stuff like that!” you huffed.

“It’s true, why deny it baby?” he teased, leaning forward on his elbows.

“God sometimes I wanna break your nose,” you sighed, turning back to your papers and looking down.

Jungkook watched your mind work, solving the problems on your paper like it was nothing. He was always impressed by your knowledge and ability to learn new things so quickly, he found that he could easily be jealous if he let himself.

But honestly, jealousy didn’t look good on him and there wasn’t much he was envious of in this world. He had a good face, good body and decent enough grades. If anything he could be a bit of a pain in the ass but the other things made up for the latter.

He didn’t say these things to be arrogant or anything, they were merely truths. People treated him differently because of these things and he wasn’t going to say otherwise. But you? You treated him just like Namjoon and Hoseok, except you let him fuck you every so often.

Speaking of...

“Hey, wanna go back to my place?” he asked, resting on his elbow.

“Why? I’m busy studying,” you said without looking up.

“I wanna fuck you,” he said, shrugging.

You sighed deeply. “I swear to God Jungkook-”

“Is that a no?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t pushing any boundaries that he shouldn’t. Honestly he hadn’t fucked anyone as consistently as he had you in the past four years of college. And he couldn’t find himself hating it either.

Jungkook had only had one serious girlfriend and that was back in highschool and honestly, he didn’t think they were that committed in the first place. Plus, teenagers hardly know what they want for breakfast, it’s hard to believe they know they’re going to be with someone for the next two weeks, let alone for the rest of their lives.

But, Jungkook was twenty five, and he was starting to think that the two of you could possibly...

Well. That might be a conversation for another time.

“Come on,” you said, standing and putting your stuff in your backpack.

“Yeah?” Jungkook said, a smile forming on his features at the thought of having you in his bed all over again.

“Yeah, I want you, let's go,” you said, not wasting any time and taking his hand.

The librarian, Seokjin, looked at Jungkook being dragged out of the library and then looked to Namjoon who was helping another student but was also shocked at the proceedings.

“Know anything about that king of the nerds?” Seokjin asked him.

“That subject is one I don’t care to study,” Namjoon said.

“Well that’s lame,” Seokjin huffed before turning back to his phone. “You kids wear my ass out.”

You and Yeji were hanging out in your dorm again after you fed Eden.

The orange little tabby had been coming around more frequently and it made your heart sing with joy. You’d never had a pet back home and the fact that you’d befriended such a cute little creature made your day.

Also showing Jungkook pictures and trying to sway him had turned into a new favorite pastime as well.

“Who are you texting?” Yeji asked as she came out of your bathroom, sitting on your bed with you.

“Just Jungkook,” you said, tossing your phone to the side.

“You two seem to be getting along well, huh?” she asked, raising a brow at you with a smile.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s nothing serious Yeji, just sex with some hanging out in between.”

She looked at you with an examining gaze. “He’s just having sex with you, right?” she asked for confirmation.

“I don’t know, I think so. I’m on birth control and we always use condoms so I’m not too worried about it. What, do you think I should get tested or something?” you asked.

“No, no Y/N, nothing like that I meant more of... If you two are just fucking and hanging out sometimes then, are you possibly considering dating him?” she asked.

“Huh? No, why would I date him?” you asked, feeling a trickle of uncertainty trail down your spine. Did it seem like you were interested? It’s not like you didn’t think he was attractive or anything it’s... you didn’t need any more distractions! The sex was enough of a distraction, you didn’t need anything else from him...right?

Yeji held her hands up. “It was just a question, Y/N, I didn’t mean to strike a nerve but... If there was one to hit, maybe ask yourself why?”

Because he’s not what I thought he was...

He’s nice.

He’s funny.

I like him a little more than I think I should-

“No nerve struck, Yeji,” you shrugged. “Just not interested in dating right now.” You tried your best to remain nonchalant but Yeji could tell. There was definitely a nerve she’d struck, and she thinks she knows exactly the one as well.

But, you can lead a horse to water. You can’t make it drink. Even if it’s on the brink of death. The horse must make that decision for itself.

When Jungkook received a call at two am from you crying he was stunned to say the least. He’d fallen asleep after studying late for his finals when he heard his phone ringing. A small smile made its way to his face when he saw your name and icon pop up.

Y/N 🐱🔥

“It’s two am baby, you need help going to sleep Y/N-”

“Kook please, she needs help!”

“Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up in bed at the sound of your distressed voice.

“Eden-she’s sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with her... She showed up outside the dorm and laid down and now she is panting hard and-I’m scared, I don’t know what to do about this. I can’t bring her in, the RA would kick my ass-”

“I’ll be there, we’ll take her to the vet, okay? We’ll make sure your kitten’s okay,” he promised. “Wait with her and I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Jungkook showed up in ten minutes, and there you stood with the small orange tabby in your arms with tears in your eyes. He put the car in park and jumped out to approach you and the cat.

“Hey, Y/N-baby, don’t cry...” he whispered, trying to keep his voice down. This was the first time he’d seen you this physically upset.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, she’s so sick and I-I don’t know what happened,” you cried.

“Shh, baby,” he cooed, pulling you into a gentle hug. “I have a friend who’s a vet tech, want me to give him a call?” Yoongi would be pissed he called at fuck o’clock in the morning but he’d help when he knew what was happening.

Yoongi could be an asshole but he loved animals.

“Please,” you sniffled.

“Come sit in the car, it’s getting cold,” he said.

A phone call, a very angry Yoongi and several more tears on your end-you and Eden were finally sleeping in the clinic Yoongi worked for. You were passed out in the chair next to Eden’s temporary kennel.

“Once she poops and I can run that sample you can take her home,” Yoongi said. “The on-call vet said she should be okay, just too cold outside for her right now. Seems like she's sensitive to the cold.”

Jungkook sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah, whatever she needs I’ll take care of it.”

Yoongi snickered at him which caused Jungkook to turn a very sharp glare in his direction, to which Yoongi flicked his forehead.

“Don’t be a little bitch,” the older man warned him. “She’s cute, your girlfriend? Prospective girlfriend?” he asked, nodding towards your direction. “Settling down Mr. Campus fuckboy?” He said some brutal things but most people who knew him understood it was just his style of communicating. But Jungkook sighed heavily and Yoongi seemed to understand that this was different. You were different to him.

Jungkook and looked back at you. “She’d never date me,” he said with a soft smile. “I’m just a good fuck to her.”

Yoongi tilted his head in confusion. “Odd, that’s usually the reversed position.”

“I like switching positions,” Jungkook said, with no humor in his voice.

The older man came over and really looked at Jungkook. “You really like her?”

“Something like that,” Jungkook shrugged, turning back to look at you sleeping in the chair. “Whatever she needs, I’ll pay for it.”

“The cat or her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, he didn’t need to.

—

You brought Eden home the next morning, a smile on your face as you cuddled the warm ball of fur.

Well, you brought her to Jungkook’s home. You weren’t going to be able to keep her in the dorms so Jungkook’s apartment was going to have to work in the meantime.

He didn’t pitch a fit like you had presumed he would, he was surprisingly understanding and welcoming of the little kitten that had stolen your heart.

Jungkook had bought some stuff from the clinic and Yoongi gave over some supplies they weren’t going to be using for her as well. Even getting her a small baby blue collar with a bell on it to hold her tags.

“I’ll come over to help whenever you want,” you said, turning to drop the kitten on the floor to wander about.

She sniffed around until she flopped on the plush rug and seemed to preen happily. You swooned at her adorable paws and fluffy tail, you’d never been allowed pets at home, so to have one (kinda) now was so meaningful.

Jungkook watched you, his heart sitting heavy in his ribs. He was confused, he was tired. And honestly all he wanted was to lay down. But when you turned to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips he couldn’t help but kiss back eagerly.

“Thank you,” you breathed against his lips. “Thank you for helping her, for helping me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, capturing your lips again. He really liked kissing you, finding himself leading you to his couch with his hands wrapping around your waist to grab at the small of your back.

You both tumbled onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, Jungkook kissing and sucking on your neck and collarbones. “Fuck baby,” he breathed, feeling the excitement of having you coursing through his veins.

“K-Kook,” you whined softly, willing to spend the morning fooling around with him. Especially after he helped you and Eden so much. He didn’t even tell you how much it was to give her the emergency treatment.

He promised Yoongi gave him a good deal, but that didn’t mean it was inexpensive.

Yeji’s words lingered in the back of your head but you tried desperately not to think about it too much. Because all you cared about was Jungkook’s hands roaming your body, his sweet lips kissing down your neck and to your chest.

You spent the morning tangled together, the cute purrs of a very sleepy, but content kitten in the background.

“You’re leading him on, Y/N,” Yeji said with a soft sigh.

“I am not! He’s not interested in dating me, Yeji, he’s the campus fuckboy-”

“When was the last time you heard him sleeping with someone other than you? When was the last time he was spotted at a party? Y/N, he’s spending all his extra time with you. You and that damned cat.”

Jungkook and you had been spending more and more time together recently. And most of it wasn’t spent fucking. It was hanging out, watching movies, playing with the cat or going out to eat.

“We can be friends that fuck around sometimes,” you twiddled your thumbs.

Yeji sighed and looked down at her papers. “He seems nice, and he likes you, if you don’t want to date him then be honest with him.”

“You were the one who told me to fuck him in the first place!” You lamented.

“Your poor decisions aren’t my fault, neither are your good ones. If you want to have a skewed moral compass that’s fine. But I’m telling you now, don’t lead a guy like him on.”

“A guy like him?” You questioned.

“One that cares about you.”

—

Fridays were your happy days. You didn’t have any classes and the weekend could be spent doing nothing but your homework, which was minimal, and lazing around with Jungkook and Eden.

The two of you had kinda dubbed Friday’s your days.

You two were watching another movie on the couch, eyes watching the screen. Jungkook was resting back in the cushions, brown orbs fluttering as he struggled to keep them open.

He’d been working extra shifts at the bar, something you hadn’t really noticed. A few projects had been due so you were more focused on getting those done than hanging around with people.

Yeji had whined to you so you decided to hang out with her for the evening the other night.

Jungkook texted you this morning asking if you were busy and wanted to chill. You anticipated a little more than watching a movie but you didn’t want to be pushy, especially since he was so tired.

“Baby,” he called.

He’d started calling you the term of endearment a while back and you hadn’t corrected him, just letting him do whatever he wanted. It was easier than listening to him complain. It also caused flutters to rise in your chest that you promptly ignored each and every time.

“Yeah?” You asked, looking at him.

“What are we?”

The words hung in the air, shocking you entirely.

What could you say to that? Did you... Did you tell him?

No, you couldn’t there wasn’t anything for you to say to him-so in a panic you let out a puff of laughter. Although, Jungkook didn’t share your humor in this situation. And you knew this was going to take a turn for the worse.

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he stated.

“No you’re not Jungkook,” you played it off, the dangerous thudding in your chest making you feel almost sick.

“Y/N,” he said, voice firmer as he sat up and looked at you. “I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks, but you keep either deflecting me or telling me ‘now isn’t a good time’, when is it gonna be a good time to talk about us?” He asked, eyes glimmering.

“Y-You fuck around with people Jungkook, I’m not interested in dating a fuck boy,” you stammered.

Fuck!

Jungkook’s eyes dimmed.

“Is that all you think of me? Really, Y/N?” He asked. “After everything we’ve done? After everything I...”

He wouldn’t look at you for a moment. Or he couldn’t bring himself to do so. You swallowed thickly and watched as Eden trotted into the room. Jungkook looked to the cat and then to you before letting a defeated chuckle out of his lips.

“Who knew you’d be the one breaking my heart, baby,” he whispered.

Your eyebrows shot up as you looked at him. “J-Jungkook,” you said, trying to get a grip on your spiraling thoughts.

“I think you should go,” he said, still not lifting his gaze to yours. You watched as a few drops hit the couch.

Was he…

“Jungkook-”

“Please Y/N? I really can’t hold out long,” he pleaded, voice thick with emotion.

You scrambled to stand up and head to the door. Eden followed after you and you were about to pick her up when Jungkook called. “I’ll still watch her… I have her papers,” he said, voice hoarse like he was keeping his cries back.

“Okay… Goodbye Jungkook,” you said, walking out of his apartment, mind reeling. So much so you didn’t hear him whisper your name in grief.

“Goodbye baby…”

So much for Fridays being your happy days…

You wandered aimlessly for a while. How much time had passed? An hour? Two? Twenty minutes? You really couldn’t be certain, but you found yourself back at your dorm. You walked in and felt wetness on your face.

You were… crying?

No… You were sobbing. Your chest ached, heart pounding in your head. Why were you crying so hard? Did-Did Jungkook really mean that much to you? Or was it because you weren’t going to see Eden again? Even that thought made a sour face appear, because you couldn’t keep lying to yourself.

Because look where it got you.

Alone, all over again.

You crawled into bed and looked at your phone with watery eyes. No messages. Jungkook had been texting you goodnight recently, and asking if you’d eaten.

There was nothing.

No messages, no calls. And you felt like an idiot for expecting one, for even humoring the thought of Jungkook being okay after what you did. You did exactly what Yeji said you shouldn’t. You played with him. You wanted the relationship without the hard parts. Without the uncomfortable topics of feelings and eventual arguments and fights. And that isn’t fair.

Not to Jungkook and not to you either.

But how do you fix it? How do you tell him… that you actually might have feelings for him as well?

Would you even have the opportunity to do that at this point? Some part of you hoped that you would be able to go back to him. To tell him you were sorry.

But there was a bigger part of you that had no idea how to proceed.

—

You were sitting in the library, Namjoon trying for the fiftieth time to try and explain this portion of your assignment to you.

It had been a week and Jungkook still hadn’t reached out to you. You hadn’t even seen him at school. It was as if he didn’t exist. And that was breaking your heart more and more as time passed by.

Jungkook had become more than a booty call, and you had to him as well. And you completely disregarded his emotions and ran away like a scared puppy. You didn’t even try to listen to him, because at that moment-you didn’t care.

You cared more about your comfort than his emotions and his attempt at creating something more between the two of you.

He’d taken your virginity for fuckssake, but you were the one struggling to commit to him.

“Y/N? What’s going on with you this week? You’re really out of it,” Namjoon said.

You swallowed hard and found tears welling up in your eyes. You’d tried to bury your feelings. You tried to forget about it all. You wanted to move on, but you couldn’t. Because ultimately, you were wrong. You shouldn’t have led Jungkook on. And you shouldn’t have ignored his attempts in the past to possibly move your relationship from a casual arrangement to something more exclusive and intimate.

Possibly life changing at the end of the day.

And there was nothing you could do to stop your tears now.

Because you just wanted him back.

“Y/N? Shit, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked, moving closer to support you. “Hey… what’s got you so upset huh?”

“I-I think I like Jungkook,” you cried.

Namjoon reeled back in confusion. “T-The fuckboy?”

“I-I’ve been hanging out with him for months and we’ve fucked around but he saved my cat and I just like talking to him and-and he’s never thought of me as anything other than me… He’s made me feel like a person and not a studying machine… I fucked it up Namjoon,” you sobbed.

The older man was at a loss of what to do for you, you were still in the library and people were starting to look at the pair of you in concern.

“D-Do you want me to call Yeji? Or Hobi? Shit, uh, I c-can call-”

“Y/N!” Yeji’s voice called through the library, walking over as she started to hold you. “Hey, hey,” she cooed. “Come on, let’s get you to your dorm.”

You sniffled helplessly, like a child recovering from a massive meltdown.

“Yeah,” you whispered, gathering your things as you tried to keep your tear stricken face from plain view. People weren’t outright rude to you generally, but you knew that their impression of you was the cold bitch who only knew how to study.

It was the front you’d portrayed for years, until Yeji started to wear it down and Jungkook demolished it completely. Or so you’d hoped. Especially in regards to him.

Unfortunately for both of your hearts, yours wasn’t ready to hear its own call. To hear Jungkook’s.

Yeji managed to get you back to your dorm, and when she shut the door the waterworks started all over again. You clung to the younger girl and sobbed hard.

“Y/N?! Hey! What’s wrong, huh? What’s going on-”

“I fucked up so bad, Yeji!” you sobbed.

Yeji sighed, nodding as she led you to your bed, sitting down with you while brushing your hair away from your face. “What did you say to him, huh?”

“That he didn’t really want a relationship. That I wasn’t interested in dating someone who fucked around,” you cried.

A deeper sigh came from your friend, before a soft chuckle reached your ears. “I didn’t know it would take this much to get you to date him. Or this many tears,” she cooed.

You turned with your watery and puffy face and looked at her. “What do you mean, Yeji?”

She smiled softly. “When you started looking at his pictures you didn’t go for the sexy ones, you looked at all of the soft ones, remember? I knew you weren’t going to be able to resist.”

You looked at her with your watery eyes and she brought you into a tight hug. “I don’t think this is unfixable, Y/N, that man is kinda a big simp for you. You know he hates cats? Or he used to? He saw you with Eden that night and took her in for you, and has been caring for her with you. I think you have a chance to make this right. Just be honest, and apologize.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes. “I don’t know where to start,” you said, voice wavering with uncertainty.

“‘I’m sorry’ will probably work just fine.”

It sounded so easy when Yeji said it last night as she comforted you. But now you stood with Jungkook’s favorite coffee drink and you could feel your hands sweating. And it had nothing to do with the warm drink in your hands. You held another piece of paper in your hand, but you didn’t care as much about that.

At least not anymore.

You were so nervous. More nervous than you had been when you took your entrance exams, more nervous than the finals you just totally flunked. You had retakes coming up because your teachers were just as shocked at your blatant failing as you were. That was part of the project you’d been working on with Namjoon in the library when you had your meltdown the other day.

But honestly, you’d fail them all over again if it meant that Jungkook would forgive you for being such a grade A asshole. Because he didn’t deserve that.

Without any more ceremony, you knocked on the door.

“Coming!” his voice called through the door.

Your heart stammered at the sound. You didn’t realize how much you missed it after a week of not hearing it.

“Yeah-oh... Hi Y/N,” he said, eyes immediately turning distant. You panicked and shoved the coffee towards him.

“I’m failed!”

Jungkook tilted his head, confused at your stammering voice and the drink being pushed towards him. “You... what?” he asked, needing clarification.

You could feel the embarrassment coursing through you. But you’d come too far to quit now, and you needed to apologize at the very least.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you said, looking up at him with your sad expression. “I failed. I failed you first. And in turn, I failed myself and... and us,” you said, the words falling from your lips without much thought. And once they started, they didn’t stop.

“I failed my finals,” you whispered. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was supposed to be studying. I couldn’t stop thinking about the nights on the couch when we would cuddle with Eden and drink coffee. I missed our laundry days, I missed watching movies. I-I missed you. I fucked up, I disregarded your feelings because I wasn’t ready to accept my own... It was wrong of me and I-I’m sorry,” you breathed.

He seemed stunned.

And to be honest, he was. You weren’t known for apologizing for anything. You had this front that Jungkook could see through the moment he’d approached you in the library. At first he thought you were just hot and wanted to fuck, but as you two started to hang out more, and fuck more, he found that he just thought your closeness and tender heart with tsundere exterior was cute.

Now that you’re here, apologizing to his face. He knew how much this must’ve taken, he’d have to thank Yeji for helping you once more. No doubt the time apart had hurt you just as much as it had him. And he was surprised when he didn’t even want to drown his sorrows in another woman, or alcohol. He just looked at the few photos of you in his phone and snuggled that damned cat he was certain would be the death of him.

But, that was all a conversation you two could have later.

Right now, he was interested in the paper in your hand.

“What are you holding?” he asked, in lieu of an answer.

“My final,” you said, looking at him with your beautiful eyes he swore he could get lost in sometimes.

“Why did you bring your final to me?”

“Because I failed. I failed almost all my finals this semester.”

Jungkook was shocked, because you’d said it but he didn’t necessarily expect you to fail that badly. Was it failing in your eyes or in the eyes of actual academia?

“What did you get?” he asked.

“Thirty-seven percent,” you said with a hot face.

Jungkook was stunned now. Because that was failing. No doubt about it. “W-what? Baby that’s awful... I’m sorry-”

“You called me baby,” you whispered. A small smile on your face. “C-Can I come in?”

He sighed and opened the door, letting you inside of his apartment. You moved inside and set his coffee down on the counter before Eden came trotting into the entryway with a very loud meeeooowwww!

“She’s been such a little shit,” he laughed. “I think she missed you, mommy.”

“I missed you,” you said to the cat, a smile on your features as she rubbed against you and meowed happily. She flopped down on her side and you rubbed her face and belly, surprisingly remaining unscathed. When she seemed content and pranced away you stood and turned to Jungkook again. “I missed you too. A lot.”

Jungkook smiled at you. “I missed you too, baby,” he said. “I accept your apology.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, looking at him with a tenderness he didn’t see coming. “I-I want to be with you, Jungkook.”

He came closer, bringing you into his arms, kissing your temple. “Then that’s where you’ll be, baby. With me.”

With that he moved his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around your lower back and squeezing you tight to his body. You sighed happily, curling into his warmth and embrace as you felt the course of want throb through your body. Jungkook’s hand moved from your lower back to your ass and squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smirked. “Yeah? Wanna have make up sex?”

You flushed at his blatant egging you on, but you also hadn’t had him in so long and you really wanted to kiss him and hold him. As mushy and gross as that was, it made your heart flutter to know he wanted you just as much. You didn’t want to be ashamed of the joy this man brought you. So you kissed him back as your answer, following his lead to his bedroom. Jungkook squeezed your hips and kicked his door shut.

“Jump baby,” he encouraged. You did as he asked and jumped into his waiting arms, making a soft squeak when his hands grabbed onto your ass.

“Jungkook,” you murmured, kissing his jaw and up to his ear. He sighed in pleasure as your sweet mouth worked eager pecks into his skin, causing goosebumps to raise along his arms and neck.

“Yes, fuck...” he groaned, cradling your neck as he carried you to his bed.

After a few more hot kisses he laid you down carefully, towering over you with a hungry expression on his face, but also feeling oddly emotional to have you now.

“Gonna fuck you baby,” he promised, bringing his lips to yours once more. His mouth was warm and comforting as he teased his tongue inside. You let him in and let the heady kiss continue to fuck you up more and more.

“Want you,” you breathed. “I always want you, Jungkook... Want to be yours,” you whispered.

“You are mine,” he growled, capturing your mouth again and again. It seemed you could barely breathe without him trying to steal the very words and breath from your lungs through his kiss.

You lifted your legs to cage in his waist as he started to press you further and further into the bed. With devious hands you tugged on his shirt to pull it off his body. He let you, allowing the material to fall to the floor and surging back to connect your mouths.

It didn’t occur to you how much Jungkook liked kissing you until you had him trying to suck your soul out of your mouth like this. But it only added to the heat and desire in the situation. To be desired and to desire someone, it was consuming the two of you in this moment.

You were consuming each other. And you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to stop. Ever.

“Jungkook~” you called when he started sucking on your neck and shoulder. He bit down and caused your legs to squeeze his waist from the pleasure.

“Yes baby, fuck...” he encouraged, dipping on hand under your skirt to touch your soaking core. “So wet...” he marveled, licking and sucking his way back to your mouth. “Let me touch?”

“Yes! Please, please touch me,” you begged, rolling your hips forward. You’d been with Jungkook several times at this point. You knew what to do to make him crazy, and how to pleasure yourself with his body against yours.

He groaned, your pleading tone making his cock throb with need. “Want my fingers pretty? Want me to make you cum on my tongue?”

You nodded quickly, the idea of his hot mouth on your aching center had you mewling his name. “Jungkook! Jungkook please,” you cried.

“Of course, love eating your little cunt,” he moaned, pushing your skirt up and away from your center. His greedy hands pulling your panties to the side and he didn’t waste any time before connecting his mouth to your wet heat.

“Jungkook!” you cried, head falling back into his sheets as he pleasured you. “Fuck, feels so good!” You found your hand tangling into his hair, tugging as he licked at your clit with his tongue flattened.

If there was one way Jungkook would like to go out of this world, it was with his head between your thighs, because he was sure this was the closest thing to heaven. You tasted incredible to him, and your sweet whimpers and mewls while he ate you out drove him insane in the best way.

You were writhing in pleasure, Jungkook pushing two fingers inside your heat to egg you closer to the orgasm you desperately craved. He moaned when you gave his hair another sharp tug, making his hips buck into the mattress to try and relieve the pressure in his lower stomach and throbbing cock.

“Baby,” he groaned. “Taste s’good,” he slurred against your pussy. It made your mind dizzy with how much he enjoyed pleasuring and tasting you. You worried about it when you first started having sex. You thought men didn’t particularly like it, and before you’d even started you worried he wouldn’t like it or wouldn’t be interested in doing it but boy oh boy. Jungkook very quickly proved you wrong.

He seemed to get off on it almost as much as you.

“Jungkook!” you whined, feeling his fingers thrusting inside you gingerly to ease you into opening up. “Baby~”

“That’s it, my good girl,” he purred, licking at your clit again to give you the extra push he knew would send you over the edge into bliss.

Your legs tensed around his head and Jungkook moaned into your core as you found yourself being thrown into your orgasm with little warning. “Jungkook! Fuck, I’m cumming!”

He eased you through it, gingerly thrusting his fingers while softly kissing your core. “Good girl, cum for me...”

“Baby... Need you, let me suck your dick? Please? Wanna taste you too,” you pleaded, reaching for his pants.

Jungkook was a weak man for his girlfriend begging to suck his dick. Especially when his girlfriend was you. Your sweet pleading eyes looking at him. How could he resist?

“Of course baby, all for you...” He said, standing up to pull his pants and boxers off in one swift motion while you tugged your shirt and bra off frantically, tossing them to meet his on the floor.

Once you two were naked, Jungkook approached with his hard cock in his hand as he slowly pumped himself to relieve the desperate ache he felt. “Gonna suck me baby?” he asked, watching with hooded eyes as you lowered yourself to the floor on your knees.

“Yes, wanna suck you off,” you said, kissing his lower stomach with tender kisses. Jungkook sighed happily at your sweet mouth but soon you were replacing his hand with your own, pumping his length while biting your lip and looking into his eyes with your demure gaze. “You know, I’ve never been one for nicknames in the bedroom... but I think I can make an exception...”

Jungkook raised his brows at you, hips jolting at the thought of you calling him a name in the bedroom. You’d kept it pretty basic with ‘baby’ and his name, which wasn’t a bad thing. He much preferred your helpless cries of pleasure than any name...

But, Jungkook was also a rather simple man in the bedroom and he had the common name kink.

“Gonna call me daddy baby?” he asked, teasing your lip with his thumb.

“If you want,” you said, licking his tip and opening your mouth to let some of his cock move inside your warmth.

“Fuck, yeah,” he nodded. “I want you to, please baby...”

“Yes daddy,” you purred, taking his cock deeper in yet.

Jungkook dropped his head back, succumbing to the pleasure that was your pretty mouth. You had learned rather quickly how to suck his dick and he couldn’t say he wasn’t appreciative. It wasn’t easy to learn someone else’s pleasure and how they liked to be treated and handled outside the basic respectful ways, but you had always known his tells and spots almost right out the gate.

It was honestly almost annoying at first. But fuck if it didn’t feel amazing right now. You massaged the tip with your tongue while gently bobbing your head along his shaft and palming his balls with a firm yet careful grip.

His hand came to collect your hair in a ponytail that he gathered in his fist as you kept sucking him off. His mind reeled with the pleasure your hot mouth gave him, his abs clenching gently at your gags and chokes as you continued to push his cock further down your throat.

“Yessss, baby, fuck-lemme fuck your throat? Huh? You’ve gotten so much better at it,” he asked, raising an attractive brow at you and you couldn’t help the wetness that pooled between your thighs.

“Whatever you want, I’m yours,” you said, opening your mouth further and letting him grab your head a little firmer before starting to shallowly thrust inside your mouth and throat.

You inhaled through your nose, easing your throat to relax as he kept thrusting gingerly. “Doing good baby, keep breathing, fuck-argh, your little mouth feels so fucking good,” he growled, gritting his teeth as he felt your throat constrict around his cock.

You gagged softly as his dick hit the back of your throat and even pushed a little beyond. But the expression he wore on his face made your thighs clench. He looked so fucking hot like this, eyes hooded and glazed with lust and sweat starting to form on his temples. You wanted to please him, so you swallowed causing his thighs to tremble slightly from the pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N, need to fuck you now. Or I’m gonna bust down your throat,” he sighed, pulling you off of him and licking his lips. “Want me inside you baby?”

You nodded, getting up and heading to the bed. Just as Jungkook went to the bedside table to grab a condom you reached for his hand.

“Hey... You haven’t fucked anyone else right?” you asked, voice small and soft.

He shook his head. “No baby, not since we started.”

“Then... I’m on the pill, if you want to go raw?” you asked, voice sheepish.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You-You want to?”

You flushed in embarrassment but nodded. Because it was true. You did want to have him that way. “I-I want to know what it’s like.”

He moved in closer to kiss you, watching you drop back onto his bed and nestling into his sheets. Jungkook brought his hand to your center to find you soaking, making a soft smirk spread across his features. “Want me to fill your pussy baby? Want me to cum inside you?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes please daddy, fill me up?” you begged.

Jungkook wasn’t going to deny a request as sweet as that. “Spread your legs,” he said, moving his hands from your center to hook into your knees as you moved to accommodate him between your thighs.

“Please baby... don’t make me wait anymore, I missed you so much,” you whimpered.

“No more teasing baby, I’ll put it in,” he promised, running his cock between your lips to get it wet with your juices before he pushed in slowly.

You whined as you felt the full feeling of him moving inside of you. “Kook~” you mewled, reaching for his hand. He intertwined your fingers, bringing his other hand to your thigh to hold it in place.

“Yeah baby? Feel good?” he asked, setting a steady rhythm that had your heart thudding in your chest.

“Yes daddy! Feels so fucking good, love your cock in me,” you breathed, squeezing his hand as he picked up the pace and started pushing into you faster.

“Wanna fuck you hard baby, wanna fuck your pretty pussy full of my cum,” he growled, moving to kiss and suck at your chest. You whined and wrapped your arms around his neck as he thrusted inside you.

You could feel every inch of him. As practical and smart as condoms were, holy shit this felt incredible. You could feel him, the heat of his cock and the hardness that sent your mind into a dizzy swirl of arousal and desire.

“Please... Please fuck me baby, wanna feel your cum,” you hiccuped, crying out when he took your nipple in his mouth and sucked on it.

You felt a shiver of bliss run across your body, Jungkook’s body moving on top of yours and creating the desperate ache of your orgasm building within you.

Jungkook was panting against your skin, holding your leg up as he pounded into your wet heat over and over again, making his own mind swirl in desperation. “Fuck... fucking tight pussy, you feel so fucking good baby... Like my cock inside you? Like me fucking you hard?”

“Yes! Yes daddy!” you sobbed, gripping his back and digging your nails in as Jungkook groaned in pleasure.

“Such a wet little cunt, you like this big dick huh baby? Like daddy fucking you hard with his big cock, like a good little slut. Feels so good, shit,” he groaned, rutting his hips into yours and encouraging you to grind your hips against his. “Yes, just like that.”

“Kook! Kook! Baby,” you cried, moving to kiss him as he aggressively fucked you into his mattress. The lewd sounds of skin clapping together filled the room, your moans and cries flooding Jungkook’s ears.

“Yes, fuck yes give it to me baby, fuck yourself stupid on my cock,” he snarled, biting down on your shoulder as you tugged his hair. “Want to see you cream baby, need to feel your tight pussy cum on me.”

Jungkook kept his pace firm inside of you, effectively slamming you into his mattress as you held onto him for dear life. He hadn’t been rough with you like this in a while, but it was also not aggressive in the way you thought it would be. Even though he was fucking you like a savage, it was from a place of passion. He couldn’t hold himself back because you felt too good, he wanted to feel you.

Every inch of him filled you and had you gasping and clinging to him. “Please baby, wanna cum! Wanna cum for you daddy, make me cum for you?” You pleaded.

“Of course, pretty girl, I’ll make your pussy cum hard for me. Make you cream this cock,” he panted. “Want to see my cum pouring from your cunt, fuck!”

“Then give it to me,” you said, your legs hooking behind his back as he fucked into you harshly.

“Fuck! Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned, bringing his thumb to your clit to urge you closer to the edge he found himself rapidly approaching. It had been a while since he’d had sex with you and he hadn’t gone raw in a long while and he knew he wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he’d hope for.

But you didn’t seem to be too concerned about it, just as eager to cum for him as he was for you.

“Cum baby! Please, right there! So close,” you cried.

“Y/N! Baby! Fuck,” he growled out as he bucked his hips into your aggressively while painting your insides white with his thick cum. You gasped at the feeling of his cum inside you and it threw you over the edge into your own orgasm.

Jungkook ground against you harshly, whining his release. “Fuck baby... Made me cum so fucking hard, good girl,” he mumbled out, bringing his lips to yours sweetly. “Breathe baby, breathe with me.”

You followed him, looking into his bleary eyes with your own fucked out ones.

It wasn’t nearly as long as it usually was, but you didn’t give a damn because it was some of the most intense sex the two of you had thus far.

Hopefully there were more fun things like that in your future.

Meeeeooooowwww!

You and Jungkook startled at Eden moving out of his closet.

“Oh what the fuck, did the cat watch us?” Jungkook lamented.

“She doesn’t care-”

“How did she even get in here?!” he sighed, already coming down from his orgasm as he pulled out of you. His eyes connected with your dripping core and he couldn’t help himself. He moved forward to lick your center when the cat jumped up on the bed.

“Hi baby,” you cooed and Jungkook sighed.

“I’m a little busy cat,” he grumbled, looking at your center with wanton desire. You smiled and sat up to place a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“Want to get in the shower?” you asked, raising a brow at him. “She hates water.”

“Yes, lets go-”

Meeeeooowww!

“Shut up cat!”

You giggled at the two of them before leading Jungkook into the bathroom. Your hearts beat against each other as you pulled each other into the shower. Jungkook’s hands were quick to settle on your hips and you could feel the relief at being in his arms again.

It had taken a little finessing, but finally you were able to speak your mind. Speak your truth to Jungkook.

He’d given you his heart and you’d given him yours in turn, and you’d cherish this for as long as you could. You weren’t sure if you were destined to be, you weren’t sure if you’d last a month dating.

But it didn’t matter. At this moment, you two were together.

And that was enough.

#bangtan sorciere #btsafterdarknet #52hertz #ksmutclu #ficswithluv #BTS #Bangtan #BTS smut #BTS fanfic #BTS fanfiction #Jungkook X Reader #Jungkook smut #Jungkook Fuckboy #bts college au #Jessika Hathaway

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jeonqkooks · 7 months

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

522 notes · View notes

joheunsaram · 2 years

Text

pretty hallucinations (jjk)

summary: Drunk words are sober thoughts, and now Jungkook knows all of yours — even the ones about him. And you know what they say, once a secret’s out, it’s hard to take it back.

word count- 3.9k

pairing- best friend!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG 15

genre- f2l, idiots in love, fluff, slight angst, slight crack

warnings- reader is wasted, jungkook is a softie, SO MUCH PINING, mention of bondage and spreader bars lmfao

a.n- a birthday fic to celebrate my favourite bunny! happy birthday jk! this fic came to me after I read a scene in ten trends to seduce your best friend that had me cackling. read that book if you enjoyed this, that ones a real f2l slow burn hehe

special s/o to @daechwitatamic for beta reading, helping with the summary, and leaving the most hilarious comments on my doc haha I will cherish them forever💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

The room was spinning. A kaleidoscope of colours twirling in the air and you couldn’t help the bitterness rising through you. This used to be your favourite place, a library you had created after years of collecting your favourite words. Systematically organized, it seemed now that a hurricane had passed through.

Well, after ten drinks, you were nothing less than a hurricane. Books with their once perfect spines laid dog-eared and haphazard. You couldn’t find it. Couldn’t find the perfect words for the moment. There was always supposed to be something for every emotion in your collection.

Some may think losing yourself in fictional words was cowardice, but to you it was a reprieve. Reality was boring. In the real world you were just a nerdy overgrown virgin who would never confess your feelings to a man — to the man. In reality, you would always be the girl who talked big about sex and hid behind bravado instead of ever opening yourself up to the vulnerability that came with it. The real you was a phony.

Stumbling with your fingers wrapped around the bottle of whiskey, you meandered to the opposite wall, pulling romance novels off the shelves. They would have answers for your predicament. Wasn’t that the purpose of them? To show how the characters overcame their fears?

The words blurred but you lost yourself. You were Catherine sharing your love but having it misconstrued, leaving you to misery, a death of a life never fully lived. As you read Heathcliff’s grief, daring you to haunt him, he transformed from the Englishman to someone too familiar, his proper attire morphing to the comfortable baggy black shirts and giant stomping boots. His dark eyebrow manifested a silver barbell, his eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare. Ebony tendrils grew from his fingertips, running up his right arm until they formed shapes as intimate as your breaths. Tiger lillies and eclipses and snakes and clocks and words so dear they played as a melody on your lips.

And then Jungkook’s words transformed from the enraged howling of ghosts to silence, his lips parted in shock as his eyes looked at you with pity. The memory was visceral and it forced your hand to tip the bottle against your lips, your tongue coating in the warm bite of liquor. Yet, it permeated through, the single moment of bravery you had been saving your whole life coming back to haunt you.

He had a friendly arm around you, the two of you laughing at the television screen as the characters finally confessed and Jungkook shook his head, chastising them for not coming clean sooner and saving him the trouble. The innocuous words gave you the courage to share a secret ten years in the making.

A simple I like you.

But unlike the characters who were living their happily ever after, Jungkook sputtered, moving away with an awkward laugh, shattering your heart into a million pieces. The distance was a chasm growing wide with his questions and the lifetime of bravery fizzled much quicker than you anticipated.

“I should’ve never opened my stupid mouth,” you lamented, tossing back another searing gulp, books digging into your back as you stared at nothing. Nothing that spurred into a familiar shadow making you cackle at your imagination. It really was better than reality.

Because in your imagination, Jungkook crouched in front of you smelling like fresh laundry that made you hazy. His fingers caressed your face, moving the curls that had spilled from their usual tight bun atop your head to frame your face. But even an imaginary Jungkook wouldn’t give you your happy ending.

Moving your hair away, he smiled, helping you up. His voice was gravelly when he spoke, a novel rasp that you wanted to pluck from the air and store it next to your array of books.

“Your mouth is not stupid,” he chuckled, an arm around your waist as he moved you from the library to the kitchen. You refused to look at this hallucination, instead focusing on the tiles that you had handpicked for the kitchen. Small white ones. They had a pattern in the middle, cobalt outlines of squares interwoven together to form stars of the skies.

He deposited you on the stool next to the breakfast nook and placed a glass in front of you. Condensation trickled down the glass to the island and before your clumsy hands could do any damage, your figment picked the glass and placed it on a coaster. Of course he knew what to do, imaginary men were perfect.

“I’m not imaginary, Trix,” Jungkook answered your inner monologue, amusement lacing his tone. But his mirth did not placate you, there was no way Jungkook would seek you out after he stomped on your heart. Your best friend was not that cruel. Not intentionally at least.

“Trix are for kids! Don’t call me that,” you whined, your words mumbled by the glass that he held to your lips. With the coldest glare you could manage, you stared at him as you finished the drink, refusing to acknowledge how soothing the cool water felt trickling down your throat.

“But they’re your favourite, Trix,” he retorted, bemused before running a hand over your head. You wanted to chastise your heart for skipping a beat at the platonic touch as he mussed your hair but you couldn’t help it. This always happened. You hated that he used that nickname, an inside joke that did nothing other than give you false hope. It was cute when he started. It made you flush to your toes and stutter over your words, but it was unfair how he could easily give you a pet name when your boyfriends had trouble coming up with anything that didn’t make you wince.

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” Your voice wobbled as did you when he helped you up, moving you towards your bedroom. Tears still streaked down your face, stuffing your sinuses with regret as you leaned against his infuriatingly hard body.

“I’m taking care of you. I always take care of you,” he answered. “Watch your step.”

His answer made you fume. Why couldn’t you feel this way for Jimin? He was supposed to be your type, flirty and loud and unafraid to go after what he wanted. In comparison, Jungkook was just a shy, awkward teenager who showed more emotions when he lost a game of League. Sure, what if the way Jimin called you sugar was a little cringey, it was better than babe or doll!

“Those are all terrible pet names, Trix,” Jungkook commented, his grin audible even when you refused to look at him. All you could do was weakly punch his arm, missing wildly while he steadied you on your never-ending path to your bedroom.

You missed your bed. Your mattress was the most expensive thing you owned. Jungkook had given you a lot of shit for spending a pretty penny on it, but it was like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and plush that you could just sink in and forget about everything.

And you really needed to forget the humiliation of Jungkook’s rejection.

“I didn’t reject you. You were drunk, Trix. You didn’t mean it,” Jungkook answered your thoughts once again. “Also your bed is very comfy so I promise not to annoy you about wasting money again.”

He was laughing at you and you couldn’t help but grunt, turning around and placing a clumsy hand on his chest as you steadied yourself. Your eyes met his and you hated how you melted a little at their sparkle. He always had the prettiest eyes, round with expressive mocha irises that burned your heart. Even his lashes were pretty, long and curved like he was a newborn fawn made to be fawned at. Gathering your drunken thoughts, you came to a single conclusion.

Honesty. Best case scenario, this Jungkook was just imaginary and would disappear soon. Worst case scenario, he was real and since you had already humiliated yourself, you couldn’t dig a deeper hole.

“I did mean it! I love you, you dumb idiot,” you announced, your words surprisingly clear. Yet Jungkook still laughed, rolling his eyes as he settled you into bed, telling you again that you were drunk. But he didn’t understand and he had to understand.

“I’ve been in love with you since I saw you play in that dumb ultimate frisbee match when you were a freshman. When you lost your cool at that concert when a guy tried copping a feel. When you gave me a hug when my mom was in the hospital and everything seemed okay for a little while. I love you, Jeon Jungkook. I’ve always been insanely in love with your stupid, dumb face,” you ranted. Kneeling in front of you, Jungkook’s smile wavered into a concentrated frown, brows bunching together before he was smiling again and shaking his head.

“You love me, but you don’t love love me, Y/N,” he countered, making you groan in exasperation, hand coming to his mouth to silence him. Sometimes you hated him.

“You don’t get it, Jungkook! How do I even–” you sighed loudly, grabbing his shoulders to make him understand. But if your words wouldn’t work, maybe someone else’s would. “It is at moments after I have dreamed of the rare entertainment of your eyes, when (being fool to fancy) I have deemed with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise,” you quoted your favourite poet, eyes stuck on his. “Do you get it now?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, awestruck in a way that made you want to lean in and kiss him, but kissing without consent was bad, especially if he was looking for a way to reject you again. You still had at least some of your pride. And then he was laying you back and tucking you in, crushing your heart in his palm till it was dust that pricked your eyes, making them dry and watery all at once.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning, Trix. We shouldn’t when you’re not sober,” said softly, fingers running on your scalp before tracing away your tears. With all the alcohol in your system, your filter was off and all you had was misery.

“Can you at least just stay before you reject me? I need a hug,” you whispered, heartbeat accelerating when he climbed in next to you, engulfing you in his arms. He was so warm. Like your favourite blanket shielding you from the cold in the middle of winter. He needed to know the effect he had on you and even though you were feeling the drowsiness from all that whiskey, you wanted to let him in. He had to understand.

“I know you think I love you platonically. I don’t. I really don’t.”

Jungkook exhaled loudly, moving away so only his forearm acted as a pillow for you. Lying on his side he looked at you, eyes tracing your features as you tried your best to keep yours open.

“You’re drunk. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said finally. With mere inches between you, you felt your face heat, your thoughts pouring over your tongue without your consent.

“Jungkook, do you know what a spreader bar is?” you asked, staring at him as his eyes widened. He blinked slowly a few times before landing on his back, looking straight at the ceiling.

“Jesus… yes, Trix. I know what that is.”

“I want you to use it on me,” you continued, loose-lipped and hazy. There was no chance you’d remember this in the morning so why not just go all out and let him in on your fantasies. “Tie me up and bend me over. Fuck me so hard I forget my name. God, I wanna be pinned under you so bad.”

“Stop. Fuck… stop, please,” he whispered, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek in a way you only saw when he was angry. Was he angry? Is that why even in the dim light of the room you could see his ears slowly turning red?

“Still think I like you platonically?” you asked, tone much more mischievous than you had planned. “Would you choke me? Make me lose my breath as you kiss me or will you be nice and gently hold my jaw when you kiss me? I think about that a lot, you know.”

He groaned, his free arm coming to rest over his eyes. He seemed resigned and somehow that made you grin, especially when he sighed loudly before speaking. “Fucking hell Y/N… please just go to sleep.”

“I wanna feel your tongue between my thighs and—“ Before you could finish, he turned, a hand coming to rest gently over your lips.

“Sleep! You need to go to sleep!” he exclaimed in a panic that made your nerves tingle and your stomach warm.

“Why?” you mumbled against his fingers before he removed them.

“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too,” he replied in a whine that was equal parts adorable as it was surprising. Did he say he loved you too? What a ridiculous concept! You were positive you were imagining him now.

“Wow, you really are a hallucination,” you giggled. This was a nice dream. You liked how all the edges of light were soft in it, how it seemed as if you were floating in bliss. Dream Jungkook was amazing. He felt so real. You wished you never woke up. Especially when exasperated by your chuckles, his arm wound around you and pulled you close, plastering you to his body.

“Does that feel like a hallucination to you?” he rasped, his exhale hitting on your forehead. His comment diverted your attention to the weight poking against your stomach. You wanted to rub up against him but your body felt heavy, powerless against the haze around you.

“Go to sleep now,” he ordered softly and you couldn’t help how your eyelids fluttered shut at his words. Drowning in his scent of fresh lavender laundry, you felt safe and coddled and finally sleepy.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” you asked, needing the confirmation that the comfort of his arms wouldn’t disappear, even when you sure he was just a figment of your imagination.

“I’ll be here, Trix. Go to sleep.”

“I love you. I really do, you know,” you assured him, getting a giggle in response.

“I’m starting to believe you do, yes.” You felt his lips land on your forehead, so soft and warm that it felt as if falling into slumber was the easiest thing to do. You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling in closer, enjoying the steady beat of his heart as he whispered once again.

“Good night, Y/N.”

—————

Your head was pounding when you woke up. A drummer having its solo, double bass and all. With a groan you opened your eyes to an unmade bed and curtains wide open to the infuriating morning sun. Needles prickling your throat, you say up only to be interrupted by the smell of bacon, the heavenly grease so inviting that your dry mouth watered instantly.

Why was someone making bacon at your home? Last you checked you lived alone.

Slow as molasses, you got out of bed, your eyes zoning onto the glass of water and a few painkillers sat on your bedside table. Without further ado, you drowned the glass, the relief near instant.

And with the relief came the memories. Whiskey. Wuthering Heights. Jungkook. Confessions. Spreader bars. And Jungkook’s words that were no longer so innocent in the morning light.

“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too.”

Holy. Fuck. Was that real? Did Jungkook really just confess to you? Did you really feel him when he pulled you close last night?

All semblance of a hangover dissolved in the sudden adrenaline rushing through you, pumping your heart into a frenzy that propelled your legs to carry you to the kitchen. Jungkook stood at the stove, frying bacon as he hummed something under his breath. You stared at him as he worked undisturbed, frying bacon, before snapping his fingers and rushing to the plastic bag at the end of your breakfast nook.

You had decided to watch him quietly but as soon as he pulled out the red box, laughter bubbled through you, effervescent and fizzling. He stared at you, joining you with his own giggles as he walked over waving the box of cereal.

“Trix for my Trix,” he said with a grin that scrunched his nose and made his eyes disappear. So cute that your heart skipped a beat and your filter disappeared.

“So I made you hard?” you asked, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Perhaps you were still drunk. Jungkook on the other hand just chuckled, bowing his head and running his hand over the nape of his neck. His dark hair fell into his face, covering the blush you loved so much.

“Yeah. Yeah you did,” he confirmed sheepishly.

The silence between you was a little stunted; awkward and too long for people who were meant to be best friends. Before long, Jungkook was distracted by the task of making breakfast, his attention on the pan as he cooked scrambled eggs and bacon, plating them for the two of you. The silence continued as you ate, but you weren’t one to hold your tongue for too long, wanting to just rip the bandaid off and address the very giant elephant in the room.

“Can you please reject me already? This is too embarrassing,” you bemoaned, trying to drown the prickly heat that climbed up your neck with orange juice. Jungkook’s fork paused on the way to his mouth, his eyes large and alert. He swallowed loudly, placed the fork back on his plate and then cleared his throat.

“I… I’m not gonna reject you,” he said softly, his tone so gentle it made you curl your hands into fists to brace yourself for the opposite. “I just… I still can’t believe you love me too…”

You always read about how time slows when you are having a stroke. But you were also meant to smell burnt toast and right now other than the smell of the delicious breakfast in front of you, there was nothing suspicious. Yet, your heart was racing, your palms were sweating and you could feel your legs quivering even when you were sitting down.

“Too?” you asked in disbelief and he nodded, smiling but infuriatingly quiet. Slamming your fist on the table, much to Jungkook’s amusement, you glared at him. “Please spell it out like I spelled it out for you,” you seethed.

“Yes, Trix. I love you. Ever since you walked into my dorm room two days after we met, pulled the plug on my PC, made me lose my ranked game and demanded I go outside and make new friends,” he teased with an eye roll.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes. If you stayed last night instead of running back here and reenacting Doctor Sleep, we could’ve talked it out,” he grumbled, the smile still ever present. With a shake of his head, he stood up, making his way over to you and pulling you up from your seat. Eyes blinking and hands shaking, you looked up at him, your skin burning where it touched you – one hand on the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck. His thumb caressed your jaw as his eyes traced over your face.

You felt light headed, your breaths too quick to catch, each nerve ending sparking relentlessly. You bit your lip in an anticipation that only made Jungkook move slower, leaning closer and closer till his nose was brushing against yours lightly. His lips barely touched yours and you were frozen, relishing his breath on your skin, fingers curling into the material of his shirt on his chest.

“Kiss me,” you requested, earning a giggle from your tease of a best friend.

“Okay,” he whispered, finally sealing your lips. It wasn’t the rough kiss of your fantasies, nor gentle innocence of your daydreams. It was searing, tilting your world on its axis. It felt like he was breathing fire into you, yet your whole body was erupting into goosebumps. It felt like colours bursting in the wind.

It was life changing and you wanted more.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood on your toes to deepen the kiss and he easily acquiesced, his arms fitting perfectly around your waist. His lips moved against yours, the tip of his nose grazing ever so lightly against your cheek. When you moaned against him, too overwhelmed to see anything but stars, he picked you up and placed you on the table, easily fitting between your legs. With a hand on your neck, his thumb gently pulled at your chin till his tongue met yours, making you shiver so violently that he broke away with a laugh, his forehead resting on yours as he caught his breath.

“More,” you asked and his lips met yours once again. This was better than anything you could've ever imagined. You didn’t know how long you kissed, but all you knew was that you never wanted to stop. Especially when he nipped your lower lip in a way that sent a current zapping all the way down to your toes. And then his lips slowed until he was pecking at you, once, twice, three times, his hands cradling your jaw.

Dazed, all you could say was, “Are you going to fuck me on this table?” and Jungkook laughed, loud and boisterous, hugging you to his chest. And what a great chest it was.

“But don’t I need to go get a spreader bar and some bondage tape for that?” he asked with a grin, kissing your forehead, once, twice, three times.

“I mean… we could do that next time?”

“If you think after years of being in love with you, I’m going to let you have your first time on the kitchen table, you are sorely mistaken, Trix,” he replied, a finger coming up to boop your nose.

“Virginity is a social construct!” you protested, but Jungkook just shook his head, kissing away your complaints.

“You fell in love with a romantic, so let me romance you,” he whispered, hands tangled with yours, his words sending a warmth through you.

You never thought you would be someone who would enjoy being romanced. But when Jungkook drove you to the park for your first date with a picnic he had packed from his early morning grocery run, he proved you wrong. Sitting on the grass with Jungkook’s arm around you, you thought about all the books in your collection, and how with their endless words they still couldn’t capture the glow of your love fulfilled.

Perhaps reality was better than pretty hallucinations after all.

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2K notes · View notes

caelesjjk · 2 years

Text

sanguine - jjk- part one

⟶title: sanguine

⟶au: vampire au, arranged marriage au, royalty au

⟶ pairing: vampire king!jungkook x human queen fem reader

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, kinda slow burn?, smut, angst

⟶wc: 10.5k

⟶warnings: some swearing, mentions of blood, lots of sexual tension, one kiss, a bit angsty, reader is a badass. No smut for this part my fellow horny bitches, but there is certainly smut in the future.

⟶ summary: Marry the vampire king. Save the kingdom.

Your father is the king of a rare human kingdom that has been plagued by famine and sickness. And in a last ditch effort to save the kingdom, he has arranged for you to marry the vampire king to the north. Your hand in marriage in exchange for his help in saving your kingdom.

Everything you swore could never happen between the two of you begins to unfold as you spend more time in the vampire kingdom with its king and his subjects. Can you learn to love this place and it’s beloved ruler?

⟶ authors note: hi friends. this has been a whirlwind of a fic and this is only part one lol. it’s my baby in a way because I’ve had this idea for so long. I started writing it long before my king decided to actually grace us all with his vampire concept for his folio. that only encouraged me more to get this done.

A few shoutouts need to be made because without these people I don’t think I’d ever finished this. @jeonjcngkook jords, not only did you beta the shit out of this, but you’ve been there for me while I’ve written it and listened to me whine and cry for weeks. u have no idea how much it means. @haliiimede for reading through and convincing me that it wasn’t trash and giving me such lovely feedback. And also a huge thanks to @tea4sykes for reading through and encouraging me the whole way, ur the best Kay. @missgeniality siya, you absolute angel, I literally owe you big time for this amazing banner. and thank you for making me a new one when jungkook dropped all the vampire content lol. It’s so stunning.

(Vows found at vampireweddings.blogspot.com)

Alright enough blabbing, please enjoy! Send me all the feedback!

For the good of the kingdom.

For the good of mankind.

That was what your family kept telling you…no, they insisted that this was the only way.

Your father’s kingdom had become wrought with sickness, famine, and the people were starving. All of the resources available had been drained, there was nothing left.

And so, in a desperate plea for help, your father went to the vampire kingdom in the north, with whom your kingdom shared a border. And while the vampire king was willing to help, he wanted to make sure that this alliance was official and binding. He asked that you marry him to join your kingdoms, and that way there would be no reason for any type of betrayal.

You hated the idea. You fought it with everything that you had. The vampires disgusted you with their lust for blood and their strange habits. It was the worst thing you thought could happen.

But your father was right, it was the only choice your kingdom had left, and you had a duty to the people.

With that realization, is how you find yourself under this gorgeous oak tree in the middle of the night. The stars and moon and a few scattered candles are the only light to be found in this open field.

“Welcome one and all, witnesses to both His Highness the King and ______, princess of the human kingdom to our South, as they pledge their dedication to walk the night together. From the night we come, to the night we go, Cursed or blessed to walk the moonlight alone.”

The wedding dress that is chosen for you to wear is dark crimson, a bloody reminder of just who exactly is standing before you. With full lace skirts that drag against the ground, it’s light, airy even. It feels incredibly soft against your skin as your finger tips brush against the fabric but none of that matters as you still feel like you’re suffocating. It’s the absolute opposite of the dress you imagined yourself wearing on your wedding day but it is tradition here in the vampire kingdom for the bride to wear red.

“Sometimes another soul walks our path, Then two become one, in love everlasting. Come forward, Children of the Blood, And welcome this couple to your brood, Within each other, these two are found, Bear witness as their souls are bound.”

The hardest part of this is that it needs to be believable, and at the same time, the subjects from both kingdoms wanted you and the king to hate each other. So the wedding had to be done with official vows, ones that made it sound like the two of you were in love. It makes your stomach churn as the priest continues to speak.

“Please bring your left wrists forward towards me.” The priest said with a soft smile. Though it was gentle, his fangs are still visible, sending a shiver down your spine.

He takes out a red sash from his pocket and gently ties it around both of your wrists, Jungkook’s cold skin brushes against yours and makes you jump slightly. Though it’s as cold as stone, it’s also as soft as cashmere.

Finally, you allow yourself to look up at the man standing next to you.

You hate that he is so beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful being you have ever seen. Soft, thick, black hair slightly smoothed back away from his forehead, eyes almost as black as his tresses and lips that were sharp and hued pink.

When he catches you staring for a bit too long, he merely smirks and turns his attention to you.

“Sorry.” The king mouths to you, no sound coming from his mouth. You look back towards the priest quickly. He holds out a golden goblet beneath your bound wrists.

“Stand now as ye will stand forever, Like this crimson cloth your hearts are tethered, This goblet's contents are your symbols of devotion, So take the rings from the Goblet.”

Your hand shakes violently as you reach into the cup to retrieve the silver band that is to be placed on Jungkook’s right finger. You swallow thickly as you toy with the silver band in between your fingers, your pulse quickening because you know that not only can Jungkook hear the beating sounds of your heart, but all the other vampires present as well. Jungkook does the same with your wedding ring but with more confidence in his motions.

The ring he holds for you is a silver band as well, but it also contains a dark shaded ruby, cut into the shape of a blood drop or possibly a tear in the case of this marriage. But even then, it was stunning.

“______, please repeat these vows after me:

I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”

These vows had been written hundreds of years ago, meant for two vampires binding themselves together…not a vampire king and someone like you who is so very human. But you say them anyway, your heart still hammering in your chest as you turn your body towards the king and take his hand into yours, noticing just how soft his hands are before you slip the ring onto his awaiting finger.

“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back…” You pause when your voice shakes for a moment, “and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”

You place the ring onto his finger and release the breath you have been holding the entire time. Jungkook smiles and takes your hand into his.

“King Jungkook, please repeat the vows to your bride.”

Jungkook waits a moment for you to look up at him, his eyes hold yours and his thumb rubs gently over the back of your hand. You wish you could pull it away…even more, you wish you wanted to pull it away.

“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.” His voice is alluring and even, as if he isn’t nervous about this at all. He slides the ring down your finger and lets it sit perfectly against your warm skin.

The priest hands the goblet to one of his assistants and turns back to the two of you after you’ve both finished.

“Above you are the stars, below you are the stones. As time passes, remember, like the star should your love burn brightly, like the stone should your love be firm. Be close, yet not so close that you restrict one another. Possess one another, yet grant each other the freedom to grow. Be understanding and compassionate, and have patience with each other, for storms may come, but they will quickly pass. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Fear not, lest the ways or words of the unenlightened give you unease.” He clasps his hands over your joined ones before he finishes the last part of the ceremony.

“As both your arms and the cloth form the symbol of eternity, may your love endure through this life and all others. As the Gods and the old ones are witness, with those of us present now, I proclaim them Husband and Wife, and thus are they bonded in Blood. The Two are now one. I present to you the Blood King Jungkook and Queen ______ forever bound, eternally free! You are husband and wife for all eternity. You may now kiss each other to seal your eternal bond of love.” The priest opens his arms and presents the two of you to the guests.

A kiss…was it necessary? Would they believe you if you didn’t kiss him? Would he be able to resist biting you? Would he taste of blood on his lips? So many thoughts plagued your mind in the moments before he cupped your cheek and tilts your face towards his.

“It’s just a kiss.” Jungkook whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at his gentle touch.

“One kiss.” You step forward and wrap the arm holding your bouquet behind his back as he leans down to mold his lips against yours.

You weren’t expecting the softness of them, assuming that their appearance would be deceiving. His cool hand on your cheek brings you just the slightest bit closer as your lips brush over his once…twice…three times before your brain catches up with you and you remember who you are kissing.

There are whispers amongst the wedding guests who watch the scene unfold in front of them. Some with disgust. Some with curiosity. However even with the divided opinions in the crowd, they all share the same opinionated attitude. You try to ignore them as best you can.

Your lips separate from his a little too quickly and your hand immediately flies up to cover your mouth and the gasp that escapes you. Jungkook smiles, a flash of fangs when his lips pull back, and gently touches the veil hanging from your head and cascading over your shoulders. He takes your free hand in his and turns you both towards the guests, who clap but don’t seem to be pleased.

“And now the crowns.” The priest turns back to his assistants and picks up the crown that belongs to Jungkook first. The king bends slightly at the waist and the crown is placed gently atop his head.

The crown looks too perfect on him, black and silver metal twisted into spikes with small red gems at the base. It’s as if he has always worn one, perfectly designed with Jungkook in mind. And maybe he has, you don’t know how long he’s been the king after all.

You hadn’t actually seen your crown until this moment. The priest picks it up from a black silk pillow and presents it to you to observe. Like Jungkooks, it too is also made from black and silver metal twisted into even more dramatic spikes. Large, jagged diamonds and rubies cover it in its entirety. It looks ridiculously heavy, and when the priest places it on your head, you find your assumption to be correct. Heavy and cold.

From somewhere nearby, horns and trumpets start to play, signaling the end of the ceremony. Jungkook takes your hand again, and the two of you make your way back down the makeshift aisle your father had nervously walked you down less than an hour ago, and already things feel so different.

You’re quickly whisked away by carriage. The space inside doesn’t feel big enough, you can’t get far enough away from him, but he simply stays on his side of the bench seat and doesn’t move towards you on the ride back to the castle.

Once you’ve arrived, you’re met at the doors by Jungkook's advisor, Namjoon, who you had met a few times beforehand during meetings with Jungkook and your father. He has a kind face, gentle like he could do no harm, but that did not change the fact that he is a still a vampire. Standing next to him is the Captain of the vampire kingdom's army, Yoongi. You had also met him previously, but he doesn’t speak much unless it’s to Jungkook regarding the royal army.

“Did everything go accordingly?” Namjoon asks as the two of you ascend the stairs to the castle.

“It was my wedding, Namjoon, not a transaction.” Jungkook moved to the side and motioned with his hand for you to walk ahead of him through the doors.

“Is that not exactly what this is?” You hear Namjoon say just before you’re inside, Jungkook sighing as he follows.

“He’s right.” You grumble.

“Beg your pardon?” Jungkook says from beside you, his hands clasped behind his back as the two of you walk towards the great hall where the celebration and dinner is being held.

“It wasn’t a real wedding. It’s part of a bargain.” You stop to face him and he does the same, looking at you bewildered.

“Perhaps the circumstances aren’t ideal, but the wedding was real, my queen.” He bows to you, and you’re sure the scowl on your face is as deep as they come.

“Let’s get this night over with.” You grab the skirt of your dress in your fists and begin stomping off towards the great hall. You can hear Jungkook laugh quietly, but you choose to ignore him.

You’re forced to mingle, your hand wrapped through Jungkook's arm as the two of you make rounds through the room. You absolutely despise the whole experience. But soon enough, you’re thankfully seated at the head table and wine is poured into your cup.

You notice that yours and your parents' place settings are the only ones with plates. But of course they would be, no one else in this damned kingdom eats food.

Downing the first glass of wine in one gulp, you signal for an attendant to bring you another one. You can feel Jungkook's eyes on you as you down one glass after another, unable to bring yourself to care about what he could possibly be thinking.

“Do you want any?” You finally ask him after your third glass. A very unladylike hiccup following.

“I think you know the answer to that question already, my queen.” He smiles softly but his jaw is tight with annoyance.

“I’m not your queen.” You say a little too loudly. Some of the guests begin turning their attention to you.

“You have every right to be angry, _____.” Jungkook tries to say under his breath, but you scoff loudly, reaching for the bottle of wine and rudely snatching it from the attendant.

“Angry? That does not even begin to cover it. I am outraged.” You take a swig from the bottle and laugh bitterly. “I am disgusted…and I am not your queen. You and your people are just…fucking vile.” You look up from the bottle of wine to see a look of horror on your father’s face from where he sits at the next table. You know you’ve said too much. You’ve been cruel. “Jungkook…” You start to correct yourself but he cuts you off by standing up from his chair with so much force that it flies back against the wall, causing the guests to look up and stare.

“One thing you are not going to do is insult my people. You can say all the terrible things you want about me, but not them. Not when they’ve given up so much so that your people can live.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you to your feet. “Let’s go.”

“Let go of me.” You try to pull your wrist away, but it’s no use against his inhuman strength. “Release me this instant!” Jungkook continues to pull you towards the door, your legs wobbly from wine and the heels on your feet.

“The evening is over. You need to sleep it off.” He pushes open the door and drags you into the dimly lit hallway.

“I am not sleeping with you!” Even though it’s futile, you scratch and pull at the sleeve of his embroidered jacket.

“As if I’d expect that of you.” Jungkook scoffs and swings you around to face him. He maneuvers your body until you’re pressed against the wall with your arms above your head, one of his hands pinning your wrists there.

“Let go!” You try to kick at him but he dodges every time.

“Whether you like it or not, my queen, this is your home now and these are your people. I have and will continue to do what’s best for everyone involved, including you.” His eyes are almost pitch black, a deep red threatening to spill into the iris’ as he speaks through his clenched teeth.

You must stop forgetting that Jungkook is a monster.

“You know nothing of what’s best for me.” You begin moving to spit in his face, but he knows what you are about to do before you have even finished the thought. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, leaving you to glare at him without being able to talk.

“Listen carefully, my queen.” The grip on your wrists tightens slightly. “You are not the only one making sacrifices around here. So when you decide you want to act like royalty and not some drunken heathen, by all means come to me.” You jerk around in his hold, you just want him to get the hell away from you. He seems to understand your request as he slowly takes his hand away from your mouth.

“I fear you’ll be waiting a very long time, your highness. Possibly until my death, but I’m sure you’ll find that day ever so joyous.” You use your body weight to push at him once more and he finally releases you, but stays in close vicinity.

“Don’t assume you know anything about what I find joyous.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder towards the guards who are standing near the doorway to the hall. “Escort her majesty to her chambers, she’s not to leave them for the night.” Jungkook straightens his shirt and jacket, and begins making his way back towards the dinner hall.

“You can’t just lock me away! Do you hear me?” One of the guards motions for you to walk towards the opposite hallway.

“No more talking tonight. Go to sleep.” Jungkook says over his shoulder before he disappears into the dinner hall. You scoff loudly, taking off walking as fast as your drunken legs will allow you to go.

“Stupid, ignorant, pig headed blood sucker.” You grumble under your breath as you continue down the hallway. The dim lighting from the candles doesn’t allow you to see much, but you can see there is art on the walls that you would rather enjoy if you were not so pissed off. And if they did not belong to the most ridiculous man you had ever met.

The guards lead you to a winding staircase where you quickly find out that in your drunken state you are unable to climb them unassisted. At the top of the first set of stairs they split, one set going left and the other going right. The guards gesture for you to head to the left.

“And where does the right go?” You ask with a hiccup.

“To the king's chambers.” One of them replies. Jungkook had not been lying, he really had prepared your very own chambers. You reach the doors to your bedroom soon after.

One of the guards opens the door for you to enter the room. You cross your arms over your chest and practically stomp inside, turning around to face them.

“Your king is sadly mistaken if he thinks he can lock me up for the rest of my life. I’d rather die.” You aren’t sure what you expect them to say, but they merely bow before shutting the door.

As soon as it clicks shut, you grab the skirt of your dress into your hands and begin ripping the fabric apart, tossing the pieces around the room.

“Stupid, ridiculous, hideous dress.” You screech, grabbing the sleeves at the shoulders and ripping them apart too. You bend down to grab the heels off your feet, stumbling around before yanking them off and chucking them as far away from you as possible.

Your chest heaves with short breaths as you feel yourself burning with rage. Reaching up into your hair, you hastily pull out as many of the pins holding it into place as you can. You start to walk towards the wardrobe when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the far wall. You look like a forest witch. And not the good kind.

Changing your mind about finding other clothes, you begin to notice that there isn’t much in your room. A few vases with fresh flowers and a bed with soft, silky white sheets. There’s a white fur rug at the foot of it and a very large trunk atop that. There’s also a small fireplace in the corner with a few small logs in a basket nearby. The room was otherwise quite empty.

Looking through another set of double doors, you find the washroom. There’s a claw foot tub in one corner with several shelves of soaps and oils on the wall behind it.

As badly as you want to bathe, you need to find ways to protect yourself. Weapons. You need to learn the layout of the castle so that you know where all the exits are at all times. And you also need to find some food. Food in a castle full of creatures who don’t eat it. You sigh loudly, almost tripping over some pieces of your skirt on the marble floor.

Looking down at what's left of your wedding dress on your body is almost laughable. It’s mostly just the bodice and a few pieces covering your lower region in a tattered disarray. You cannot bring yourself to care, this dress was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

You walk out onto the balcony and see a ledge that looks just big enough for you to make your way over to the next room. Wasting no time, you swing your leg over the side, feeling a bit dizzy and suddenly remembering that you’re still quite drunk. But there is no time to sober up now, you have missions to complete.

Still barefoot, you balance onto the ledge and carefully side step your way along the stone. It's only about ten feet from your balcony to the next one.

You get a little too ahead of yourself and almost slip just once, but manage to climb over the railing of the next balcony successfully. You slink over to the window and peer inside, seeing what appears to be an empty guest room. Trying the handle for the doors, you’re overly pleased to find that they are unlocked.

Once inside, you press yourself against the wall and move towards the bedroom door. You pray that once you open it, there will be no vampire guards waiting for you. You have yet to secure a weapon and this might be your only chance to do so when so many of the castle's occupants are still at your wedding reception.

Slowly, you open the door, poking your head outside to see the guards are still occupied with watching over your bedroom door. You silently thank the gods, tip toeing into the hall, you're able to make a mad dash as soon as you’ve rounded the corner and gotten out of the guards sight.

You run until you find the winding staircase that you had come upstairs on. Its familiar shape lets you know that you’re going the right way. Eyes darting from side to side, you descend the stairs, making sure there are no vampires lurking about in the halls.

With absolutely no idea where you are going, you take the hallway to the left, and to your surprise, you smell food. The scent gets stronger and more distinct the further you travel down the hallway. You notice a swinging door, the sounds of clanging pans and a soft voice coming from inside. You brave a peek inside the small round window on the door, the person inside has their back to you for a moment, but when they turn around to face you, you almost cry.

Hoseok.

You shove open the swinging door with all your might, jumping onto a very unsuspecting Hoseok, who screams bloody murder at the sight of you. He almost falls backwards, but catches himself on the corner of the counter.

“Get off of me, witch!” Hoseok yells, reaching for a frying pan in hopes to knock out the creature currently hugging his torso.

“Oh, Hoseok, I’m so happy to see you.” You cry into his chef's coat.

“______? Is that really you?” He grabs your shoulders and moves you back to get a look at you. “My god, it really is you. What the hell happened to you?” He picks up a piece of your dress from the floor that must've fallen off in your rush to get to him.

“How are you here? Why?” You sniffle, tears streaming down your face.

“The king asked me to come stay here and be your chef…since you know, they don’t eat food and you do.” Hoseok pats the top of your head affectionately.

Hoseok is your closest friend. You had grown up together back in your father’s kingdom. His mother had been a long time servant of your parents, the most loyal that you could ask for. Hoseok had inherited that particular trait from her. He began cooking as you got older and soon became one of the best chefs in your kingdom. You were very surprised when you heard your father was so willing to let him go.

“My father let you come? Who will make him those banana pancakes he loves so much?” You laugh, wiping your face so you can get a better look at him, making sure that he’s really here in front of you.

“No, not your father, I meant King Jungkook. He apparently gave your father a rather large sum to make sure that I came here to cook for you.” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders and smiles widely.

“Why would he do that?” You hiss.

“I don’t know, _____. Maybe he just wanted you to be comfortable here.” Hoseok gives you another small hug, then moves around you to continue what he was working on before.

“I find that hard to believe.” You scoff.

“Do you want to explain why the hell you look like a swamp witch?” Hoseok is packaging some food and placing it into the cold room that was filled with ice.

“I…may have gotten drunk at the reception…and got sent to my rooms like a child. And I may have thrown a fit of rage about it.” You plop yourself down on a wooden stool in the corner of the kitchen. You learned a long time ago not to get in his way when he was working.

“You? Throw a fit? Could not imagine such a thing.” He laughs before closing the door to the cold room. “So you haven’t eaten?”

“No. I’m starving Hoseok, please make me food.” You whine to your friend and he rolls his eyes in response.

“You’re lucky I don’t beat you with this plate of food. I made this damn dinner for the reception and they brought your plate back to me untouched? You’re on thin ice my friend.” Hoseok pulls a plate of food from the oven that he had been keeping warm there and sits it in front of you.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You don’t bother waiting for him to hand you any utensils as you grab the food with your hands, dismissing the fact that it’s too hot to be eating. You’re too hungry to care.

“One day in the vampire kingdom and you’ve already lost your mind.” Hoseok places a fork beside your plate, but still, you ignore it.

“Do you have knives in here?” Your face lights up, looking around the kitchen.

“I’m a little hesitant to give you any sharp objects right now _____.” Hoseok looks at you with concern reaching his face.

“It’s for protection, Hobi. We’re the only two humans for miles, aren’t you a bit concerned about that?” Your mouth is half full of food as you speak and Hoseok looks disgusted as you stand up and start rifling through his kitchen.

“Of course it’s a little…unsettling. But the king isn’t going to let anything happen to us. Especially you.” Hobi walks behind you, picking things up as you make a mess. You scoff at the last part.

“He cares about me as much as I care about him, which is not at all.” You finally find the drawer that holds the kitchen knives. “Finally! Why didn’t you tell me where they were?”

“Because I think you’re slightly insane.” He puts his hands up in front of him in surrender when you turn around to face him, knife in hand.

“I’m not insane. I’m being…prepared.” You close the drawer and move back towards the kitchen door, peaking out into the hallway through the circular window. You don’t see any movement.

You aren’t sure where to keep this knife if you finally managed to get your hands on, looking around the kitchen for something to use.

“Here, just use this.” Hoseok sighs, handing you a long leather string. “Wrap it around your thigh, that's what all the female warriors do.”

Looking at Hobi inquisitively, wondering how he could possibly know that bot of information, you take the string from his hand and wrap it around your thigh until you can tie it. You’re able to secure the knife between the leather well enough for now.

“Do you even know how to kill a vampire, ____? Is a knife even going to work?” Hoseok crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at you.

“Father told me once that you have to remove their heads.” You don’t look at him, just continue looking into the hallway.

“And a kitchen knife is going to remove a vampire's head!? I’m going to pretend you didn’t get that from me if anyone asks.” Hoseok motions towards your knife with his head before he goes back to cleaning up the mess you had left in your wake.

“I’m going to go look around some more. I’ll come find you later.” You look at him now, as he picks things up off the floor.

“Please don’t.” He teases, crossing the small kitchen to stand in front of you. “Be careful roaming around this castle.”

“I’ll be fine, Hobi.” You wrap an arm around him and he does the same to you, giving each other a much needed hug. He kisses the top of your head before he lets you go.

“Go on then, Blood Queen. I’ll bring you your breakfast in the morning.” He shoos you away.

“Do not call me that.” You glare at your friend. “Eggs and lots of coffee?”

“As you wish.” He rolls his eyes again and you can’t help but smile.

Pushing open the swinging door, you carefully step out into the hallway, keeping your back pressed to the wall as you follow it through the castle.

There isn’t much to see. Some extra bedrooms, one room that looked like a study and one door that had led to a small patio. You mentally mapped that door in your head and hoped you could remember it well enough to write down when you got back to your rooms.

As you approached the end of the hallway you began to hear voices. You knew you should turn around but your curiosity was too much to battle with. So instead, you made your way to the double doors that had been left slightly ajar.

Inside, the room was full of vampires seated at a very long table. Jungkook is sitting at the head of it, his fingers adorned by silver rings, stroking his chin with worry. You aren’t sure how you know that he’s worried, but you just know. Namjoon paces the floor behind him, babbling to no one in particular it seemed. Yoongi, who is sitting to his right, still appears to be his quiet and stoic self. Not much different to how you saw him for the first time.

There are several others present around the table that you do not recognize. But the real question is why are they here instead of attending the wedding reception?

“Is this a threat we need to be prepared for sooner rather than later?” You finally hear Yoongi say, his voice deep and rumbly.

“We knew taking on the human kingdom was going to cause issues with Taehyung. Because not only did you agree to help them, you married the fucking princess.” Namjoon says, distaste thick in his voice.

“They required protection. This was how we gave them that.” Jungkook doesn’t bother looking up, he merely sits back in his chair and crosses his legs.

“At what cost? Why are we paying for their ignorance?” Namjoon continues to pace the floor behind Jungkook's chair.

It surprises you how Jungkook continues to defend your kingdom when he clearly did not have much reason to. It isn’t as if you had married him on happy terms. The only thing he is really getting out of this arrangement is land, and it isn’t like there is much of it to give in the first place. You’ve been so angry that you really had never taken the time to consider that.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Jungkook says, abruptly standing up from his chair.

You feel panic rise up as you notice that he’s heading towards the door that you’re still standing in front of. You look around the hall frantically, seeing a large statue in the corner to your left.

You dash towards it, trying to keep the sound of your bare feet padding across the marble floor as quiet as possible. You hear the door creak open all the way as you fling yourself behind the statue, flopping against the ground with a thud.

“Shit. Shit that hurts.” You whisper, trying to right yourself into a sitting position.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the mouth of a sailor?” Jungkook is suddenly standing above you, making you jump with fright, banging your head against the statue that had apparently done nothing to hide you from him.

“Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to just appear out of nowhere like a damn ghost?” You rub the back of your head and manage to get to your feet to stand in front of him. Jungkook scoffs, trying to hold back a laugh.

“What in the world have you done to your dress?” He asks, reaching towards your torn up skirt. Before he can touch them you slap his hand away, making your hand sting at the contact.

“I had a moment. Not that it’s any of your business.” You attempt to smooth out what’s left of the skirts at your waist.

“You look like a swamp witch.” Jungkook can’t help the smile that graces his face and you want to slap it away for being so beautiful.

“I do not!” You shove past him, stomping back down the hallway where you had come from.

“Would you please stop for a moment?” Jungkook calls after you.

“I will not.” You refuse to give him any further satisfaction. He does not seem to take the hint, his footsteps following after you.

You’ve had enough of him for one night. You reach into the band you had made and wrapped around your thigh to hold onto the kitchen knife you had gotten from the kitchen, spinning around and pointing the sharp end of the blade right at Jungkook’s throat, making him stop in his tracks in front of you.

“Where did you get a knife?” Jungkook dares to ask, an eyebrow raised in question.

“That is also none of your business.” You move the knife so close to his throat that the slightest movement could make you cut him.

“Were you keeping that knife strapped to your thigh?” Jungkook's voice lowers as he slowly raises his hands in surrender. You choose not to answer him, only stiffening your stance. “Incredibly violent…” Jungkook smiles and his fangs extend slightly, making you feel bewildered at his reaction.

“Why are you smiling?” You poke the tip of the knife against his skin.

“Because I like that you’re beautifully murderous.” Jungkook is suddenly out of your sight, making you whirl around to find him, only to be pressed roughly against the wall, the hand holding the knife anchored above your head.

“Get off of me!” You move to knee him in the groin but he’s too fast. Inhumanly fast.

“I want you to be a part of this, you know. I want you to help us help your people.” His grip tightens slightly the more you move around.

“Why?” You seethe.

“Because you’re the queen. My partner in this life. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” The look on his face is so sincere that it makes you halt your movements.

“Jungkook…this is not a real marriage. Why are you so convinced that it is?” With one last push, he releases you and takes a step back.

“I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make you see that it is.” Jungkook tells you with a quiet sigh. “But for the time being, please just come inside and listen to what we’re speaking about. You should be a part of it too.”

You feel the tiniest sliver of hatred melt away from your heart. It makes your chest feel lighter, like you can breathe a little easier. You don’t understand it. You don’t understand him. But you can’t deny that you want to know what’s going on in that meeting room.

“Fine. Let’s go.” You rip your eyes away from his face before it becomes too noticeable that you were looking at him at all.

“Do you perhaps want to change first?” Jungkook asks. “The dress has become rather revealing.”

You glare at him before propping your foot up against the wall, exposing your bare leg to him. You slide the kitchen knife back into the homemade holster on your thigh, adjusting it slightly and letting your foot slip back to the ground as you keep direct eye contact with the vampire king.

“No. I think I’ll attend the meeting just as I am.” You can’t help but smirk a little, pointing your nose to the ceiling before making your way into the meeting room. Jungkook laughs quietly in disbelief, but follows you inside.

All the eyes in the room are suddenly on you. One of the men sitting at the table visibly chokes on air as he watches you walk into the room and takes in your appearance.

“I suggest you get yourself together, Seokjin.” Jungkook walks ahead of you to pull out the chair to the left of his for you.

“Apologies, your highness.” The man named Seokjin splutters slightly, then straightens in his chair.

“Were you attacked, my lady?” Yoongi says, his voice low but still holding a bit of concern.

“No…I was…it's nothing. Don’t let my clothing distract you from the discussion.” You move around the table, choosing to ignore the chair Jungkook has pulled out for you, but instead decide to move to his chair at the head of the table and sit down there. “Shall we?” You ask, a smug look on your face.

“Incredible.” You hear Jungkook mumble under his breath, only meaning for you to hear it, but obviously all the other vampire ears in the room do as well, making everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats.

“Does the queen need to be present?” Namjoon remarks from the seat next to Yoongi.

“Yes, she does. And I won’t hear another thing about it.” Jungkook makes his point clear and moves to sit in the chair he had originally pulled out for you.

“Fine then. We need to start preparing for a war with Taehyung. And we also need to consider that in order to avoid it, we should give up the human kingdom. We don’t need it.” Namjoon is very monotone as he speaks about giving up your kingdom to an apparent enemy.

“Absolutely not.” You say without thought.

“No disrespect, your highness, but I was speaking to the king.” Namjoon dismisses you and you can feel anger start to bubble beneath your skin.

“You say that you mean no disrespect, but you’re sitting there suggesting that we turn over my kingdom, full of innocent people, to your enemy.” You lean forward in your seat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you look at the king's advisor.

“I’m not sure you understand the ramifications of going to war with Taehyung, your majesty. He is not to be underestimated.” Namjoon leans forward as well, meeting your gaze with a challenge in his eyes.

“Perhaps someone could explain to me who Taehyung is, and how he has become such a threat to the most powerful kingdom in this realm?” You don’t let your gaze fall from Namjoon’s, challenging him right back.

“If you two are finished with your vicious little disagreement you’ve got going, I would be honored to get the queen up to speed on the situation.” Seokjin says from a few chairs down. His voice makes you look away from Namjoon with a scowl on your face.

“Please. Tell me what you know.” You give Seokjin your attention, ignoring the mumbled curses Namjoon says under his breath.

“Taehyung is the king of the werewolf kingdom to our west, your highness. And I…well I know more than most about werewolves as I myself am one of them.” Seokjin looks up at you then, a golden glow flashing across his eyes when they meet yours.

“I’m confused. If you’re one of them, what are you doing here?” Your curiosity is peaked at this very unexpected bit of information.

“Well you see, my lady, I owe my life to your king. Many, many years ago he had mercy on me and I have pledged my loyalty to him until my dying day.” A smile plays at the corner of Seokjin’s mouth as he looks from you to Jungkook, who also shares the same smile of fondness on his face.

“He saved your life?” You ask, enthralled by this story. A vampire saving the life of a werewolf is unheard of, the two of them becoming friends is even more unheard of.

“He did. And now he has me at his side, even if he wishes I wasn’t at times.” He laughs a little and Jungkook’s smile grows wider.

“You’re too humble sometimes, hyung.” Jungkook says, sharing one last fond smile with Seokjin before he looks back at you. “Seokjin is vital to the way this kingdom is able to live and operate on a daily basis. Don’t let him talk lowly of himself.”

You wish their story wasn’t so endearing. That you didn’t feel a pang of something in your heart for the fondness they share for each other. But no matter how hard you try to bite back your smile, it betrays you, pulling your lips up slightly.

“I am happy to meet you, Seokjin.” You say, sharing one more look with him before the moment is interrupted.

“Could we get back to the point?” Namjoon says, obviously annoyed by the friendly conversation. Why was he so frumpy?

“Of course. My apologies.” Seokjin sits back in his chair with a small bow of his head.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sour puss?” You say to Namjoon, almost causing Yoongi to choke on a laugh.

“My lady, this is not a joke. If you’re insistent on being involved, I beg you to take this seriously.” If Namjoon could blush, you suppose he would be at this point.

“I’m listening.” You roll your eyes a bit and turn to Jungkook, who is watching you with a smirk on his face.

“Taehyung isn’t happy about this…union. He believes your land should be his and we are almost positive he isn’t going to sit back and let it go.” Yoongi takes the initiative to explain this time.

“And for now, as I’ve said before, we double the guard at the border but we don’t engage. I’m not starting a war without reason.” Jungkook speaks now, everybody forwarding their attention to him. “And perhaps we need to set up a meeting with Taehyung.”

“A meeting? What do you hope to come of that, your majesty?” Namjoon looks with disbelief on his face.

“I’m avoiding a war at all costs. I won’t bring unnecessary danger to either of the kingdoms.” Jungkook stands up. “And this discussion is over for now. I’m sure the queen would like to sleep.” You nod, quickly being able to tell that Jungkook is done talking for tonight.

You stand from the table, bowing to the others who stand at the same time as you do to bow deeper in your direction. Jungkook motions for you to walk ahead of him with his hand as you take one last look over your shoulder at the men sitting at the table. More monsters than men…but it was easy to forget such a thing.

“I’m glad you joined us.” Jungkook's voice startles you from your thinking.

“Yes well…I won’t let anything happen to my people. We can’t just throw them to the wolves.” You hope he detects the seriousness in your voice.

“I hope that you can see that isn’t my intention. It never was.” Jungkook walks next to you, his arms crossed behind his back.

“As long as that is clear.” You reach the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your separate bed chambers, stopping on the bottom step and turn to look at Jungkook.

“Loud and clear, my queen.” Jungkook steps up closer and you almost trip over the step trying to create space. “Where is the knife now?”

“It will be in your chest if you do not step away from me.” You growl through your teeth, making Jungkook grin wickedly, fangs appearing under his lip.

“Beautiful and violent. Where have you been all my life, darling?” Jungkook steps up onto the stairs, making you stumble up a few more to get distance.

“You’re some kind of masochist, aren’t you?” You put your hand down onto the handle of the knife. Jungkook throws his head back in laughter. The sound is…certainly not what you expected. He seems so human as he laughs and tries to compose himself.

“Would you like to find out?” He takes one more step up towards you and you’ve had enough.

You lift your bare foot from the wooden stair and press it into the middle of his chest as he stands two steps down from you. You watch Jungkook's eyes as they take in what is happening, roaming over the exposed skin of your legs and thigh.

“Stop flirting with me.” You push slightly against his chest with your foot. “It’s very annoying.”

“Your heart is beating so quick, I’m not sure that you mean that.” Jungkook says in a low tone. The sound of his deep voice tries to pry its way between your thighs, but you won’t let it. “I think you rather like it, actually.”

“You’re not amusing, your highness.” You try to remain unfazed.

“You can’t lie to me. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins…and your breath struggling to even out.” Jungkook tries to take a step up but you push him back down with your foot.

“You’re delusional. Whatever you are hearing is simply because I am fending off a vampire, not because I find that vampire to be maddeningly beautiful.” You wish you had said that differently…surely he will know you’re lying now.

“Why do you fight it?” He questions.

“Fight what?”

“The attraction between us.”

“Because there isn’t any. None. It is nonexistent.” You shove your foot into his chest once more but he doesn’t budge of course.

“Liar.” Jungkook says quietly, you can feel his breath on the skin of your leg. His cool fingers come up to ghost over the skin of your ankle, allowing goosebumps to find home on your skin as your body betrays you even more. “Shall we test your theory?” Fingers continue their featherlight touch up your calf.

“You’re…it’s not affecting me at all.” Your voice shakes slightly as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“More lies, my queen.” When his fingers get to the inside of your thigh, your brain suddenly remembers what’s happening. You kick him in the chest with more force and Jungkook stumbles slightly, giving you a chance to jog up a few more stairs before you speak to him again.

“No more of your unrequited flirting. And especially touching. None of that.” You yell down to him, wishing you could smack the grin on his face.

“As you wish.” He bows to you.

“Goodnight, your highness.” You pull the knife out of your holster and point it towards him as you back your way up the rest of the stairs, making Jungkook laugh out loud again. You don’t look back this time as you dash your way down the hall to your bed chambers where the two guards are still standing. “I’ll be going to bed now.” You huff past them and into the room as quickly as possible.

You press your back against the cool wood of the door, trying to catch the breath you had not realized were holding . He was absolutely infuriating. Ridiculous. Egotistical. And yet… soft and endearing at times. Like when he was speaking to or about Seokjin. It is something you never expected to see.

Looking down at your hand, you see the wedding ring he had given you just a few short hours ago. Shaped like a drop of blood and every bit the color of it. You had forgotten all about it and now you aren’t sure you wanted to take it off. You and this ring have been through a lot already.

Finally, you bring yourself to move towards one of the tall armoires on the other side of the room. Perhaps it’s time to finally change out of your tattered wedding dress.

You look through some drawers until you finally find some silky night shorts and matching camisole. It seems revealing for pajamas, but you also don’t have the energy to keep digging for something else.

With a sigh, you head into the bathroom and make a beeline for that glorious claw foot tub in the corner of the room. You look around and notice the gold crusted faucets at one end of the tub.

Running water. The vampire kingdom had running water for baths. This was not a luxury that you had back in your human kingdom.

“Something decent has come from this.” You mumble to yourself as you turn on the faucets and watch the crystal clear water start to fill the basin of the tub. You grab one of the first glass bottles of soap that you can reach, breathing in its scent and finding it to be lavender. A scent you missed about the gardens in your father’s kingdom. You pour a plentiful amount into the stream of water and watch the bubbles begin to form and you can’t help but smile.

Stripping out of what’s left of your wedding dress, you toss it away and carefully step into the tub. The water is so warm already, instantly loosening your tired muscles and cleanssng your dirty skin. It felt like heaven.

Once the tub has filled you turn off the faucets and sink down into it. You let your head dip beneath the bubbles, letting it washclean your hair and , making it easier to pull the rest of the pins out of it.

It’s quiet in this washroom. Almost too quiet. So you decide not to dawdledauddle for too long, getting yourself cleaned up and grabbing a robe from one of the hanging hooks on the wall.

Making your way back into your bed chambers, you dress into the pajamas you had found earlier and climb into the bed. You feel alone all at once. Too alone with your thoughts.

How would your life play out now that you’re here? Married. To the king of vampires. Jungkook. The blood king.

You want to know more. Need to know more about him and this place.

In order for you to do that, you have to change your sleeping schedule. You need to be awake at night when everyone else is awake.

It took some time for you to get used to but after a couple of weeks you are able to get up and join the vampires during their meetings regarding Taehyung.

You are also able to explore the castle and its grounds more thoroughly. Finding it full of vast libraries and art from different centuries…different worlds it seemed.

Most recently though, you had discovered the gardens. Gardens that had been somewhat neglected by visitors if you were being honest. They were clean and well kept, but they were mostly empty. Not many flowers and things to fill all the spaces in between the manicured bushes and small trees. You wondered if it was because no one could come out during the day to care for them. And the more you thought about it, the sillier it seemed.

You love walking around outside nonetheless. Sitting on the stone benches and watching the fountains. But your urge to do more is constantly bouncing around in your mind.

Tonight, you find yourself changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. You had decided you were going to start digging around in the gardens, whether it is something a queen should do or not, you didn’t care. It would busy your mind and give you something productive to do.

“Where are you off to?” Hoseok calls behind you as you make your way to the back doors.

“To the gardens. I think I’m going to start digging around. Maybe plant some new things.” You turn to see the bright smile on his face. One of the few bright things here.

“There are groundskeepers for that, you know?” Hoseok teases as he approaches you, taking in your very unqueenly outfit.

“I am aware, Hobi. But I’m bored and I need to find something to occupy my time.” You wave him off with a sigh.

“Do you know where the gardening equipment is?” Hoseok asks, hands moving to his hips as he looks at you expectantly.

“Well…no. But I assume that you do?”

“Perhaps. What’s in it for me?” He continues to tease.

“I’m the queen, you have to tell me if I ask.” Your arms cross over your chest.

“Oh now you want to be the queen? Only when it benefits you, I see.”

“Come on, Hoseok, pleeeeease?” You’re growing tired of his antics.

“Let me use your bathtub twice a week, and I’ll tell you where it is.” He puts his hand out for you to shake.

“As if I would deny you that bathtub.” You laugh a little and shake his hand. “Come on then, to the gardening tools.” You jump onto his back as he turns around to lead the way, making him carry you.

“I don’t remember carrying your spoiled ass around being in my new job description.” Hobi laughs, adjusting you on his back so he can walk with more balance.

“It’s in your best friend job description, check your paperwork.” You place your chin on his shoulder and squeeze your legs tighter around his middle.

“Ridiculous.” He laughs louder, making his way towards the back doors to show you where to find the gardening tools.

Hoseok takes you to a small building outside the castle, inside of which are plenty of gardening tools for you to get started with your plans. He doesn’t stick around though, making his way back to the castle to finally get some sleep. Hobi is having a harder time adjusting to the new sleep schedule than you had.

With your arms full of shovels, rakes, and other tools you may or may not need, you find an area near the fountains that you plan to start with. The dirt in this area seems a bit dry and sad looking, so you think if you dig into the soil, you’ll be able to bring the good dirt to the top.

You spend a few hours tilling the soil and sure enough, it already looks so much better than it did before. And even though autumn is in full swing and you’re working by the light from the moon, you’re still a bit sweaty.

“I think digging your way out of here may be a bigger task than you bargained for.” A now familiar voice says from behind you, making you jump at the sudden sound.

“Will I have to live out the rest of my days here wondering when the next time you’ll give me a heart attack will be?” You place your hand over your hammering heart while Jungkook smiles.

“Apologies, my queen.” Jungkook walks closest to where you’re kneeling on the ground, his hands behind his back. “What is it that you’re doing exactly?”

“I’m gardening. Is that not obvious?” You sit the small shovel down and wipe your hands off on your thighs.

“Yes. But why?” He asks curiously.

“Something to do? A hobby? I’m tired of wandering around this castle like a ghost.” You look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Is that something I’m allowed to do, your highness?”

“You’re rather snarky for a queen.” Jungkook smiles again, the sharp points of his fangs showing behind his lips.

“I have been called much worse.” You huff, standing up from the ground, wobbling slightly from being in that position a bit too long.

Jungkook is inhumanly fast, gently steadying you on your feet. One hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. His skin is so cold it sends a shiver through you, goosebumps covering your warm skin.

“So long as you’re here, no one will dare to call you anything less than you deserve.” His eyes are almost black as they meet yours. “Are you okay to stand?”

You shake away the trance you feel when you look at him, stepping back slightly and out of his hold.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You awkwardly stumble over the shovel on the ground, righting yourself before Jungkook has a chance to try and help you again. “Thank you.”

“Shall I help you with this?” He asks, bending to pick up one of the rakes.

“Oh…that’s not necessary, I can manage.”

“I’m well aware that you can manage. But would you like some help…and some company?”Jungkook almost looks shy as he asks. “I think it would be good for us to spend more time together.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you despises the thought of spending time with him. But a bigger part tells you that you long to know him more. To hear his infuriating tone when he teases you.

“Fine. But you start over there, and don’t crowd me.” You point towards an area a few feet from the one you had been working on. Jungkook laughs quietly.

“As you wish, my queen.” He bows at the waist and makes his way over.

“I’ve asked you several times to stop calling me that.” You sigh, pushing some hair away from your face before you continue tilling the soil.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Jungkook gets down to his knees, the brown slacks he is wearing meeting the dirt.

“I am not a vampire, Jungkook. Being the Blood Queen seems like I’m pretending to be something that I’m not.” It bothers you. All those vows that you took about protecting each other are just lies.

“You don’t need to be a vampire to be the queen here. No matter what you hear or what you think, you only need to try and understand.” Jungkook’s quick hands are making much faster work of things than yours ever could.

“Understand what?” You ask.

“Will you let me show you some time? It will be much easier to show than to try and explain it in so many words.”

You don’t understand what he means, but the look on his face tells you that he’s sincere in what he says. And even though you should probably say no, you’re too curious not to indulge him.

“Okay.” You simply state. Jungkook smiles softly and continues his digging.

Another week passes, and Jungkook joins you out in the gardens every night. He brings you new tools to use and lists from the florists in the kingdom so that you can pick out flowers to plant wherever you please. You choose as many as you can find that grow at night, because though they carry all the usual things that flourish in the day time, you know you won’t get to enjoy them as much as you will the ones who bloom at night.

You spend hours in the many libraries within the castle researching the plants and what they need to live well at night. Jungkook joins you there often, following you through the stacks of books and listening to you babble on and on about the flowers.

As much as you wish you didn't enjoy his company, as much as you don’t want to be fond of the sound of his voice, you are very much beginning to.

“_____?” Jungkook says quietly, closing the book that you’re holding in your hands. He doesn’t call you by your first name often, it’s a strange feeling that follows it.

“What is it?” You slide the book back onto the shelf in front of you, turning your attention to him.

“Would you please do me the honor of accompanying me into the kingdom tomorrow night?” His hands are behind his back as he speaks, stepping closer to where you’re standing.

“May I ask why?” You try to pretend his close proximity does not affect you. Jungkook is still a vampire after all.

“I told you I would help you to understand why being human does not mean you cannot be the queen here.” Jungkook brings a hand from behind his back and reaches out gently, brushing your fingertips with his.

“What are you going to show me, Jungkook?” You slowly pull your hand back from his touch, making him smirk at your stubbornness.

“Everything, darling.”

#jungkook #vampire jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #bts fic #bts smut #btscarnivalnet #btscreatorscorner #bangtaninn #bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #52hertz #btswritersclub #btsdreamcourt #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock #btswritingcafe

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oftenderweapons · 4 months

Text

Natural Connection | KNJ | Ch.5

A Small Town Swoons story

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Plum)

Wordcount: 3.6k

Genre: stragers to lovers, fluff, mild angst; ranger/trainer!Namjoon, Chef!reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Plum wakes up needy, too bad Namjoon has already left her room. Their confrontation doesn't go where expected.

Trigger warnings: swearing, semi-public sex. Making out, grinding, dry humping, mutual masturbation, peaches and cream (i guess???). Musings on unprotected sex. Just a pinch of postcoital misunderstandings. Feral, possessive kissing and light biting.

A/N: Holy moly it's been two years???, but I guess it's better late than never, right? 😅💖 I decided to post this only now since I've already written the final 2 chapters. It's been tought, but I've decided it's time to return to this story and finally complete it (even though Ranger!Joon will be oh so dearly missed. I really didn't want to let go of him LOL, esp since it's time to drop this sunshine baby's full back story 😞🥺🥺🥺)

Here is my Masterlist, enjoy!

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

When you saw Namjoon the next morning, you only remembered waking up to an empty bed.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling and you weren't ready to acknowledge it like a mature, emotionally stable adult.

“Good morning, Plum,” he murmured, standing very close beside you as he waited for his band of jocks to join you.

“Morning,” you replied, a bit grumpy, but hiding it behind the pretense of courtness.

“Did you sleep alright?” he asked, gentle and apprehensive.

“Uh-huh.”

“Not very wordy, mh?” He nodded to himself. “Okay.” And just like that, conversation was over.

You hated having him right beside you and wasting time in silence when all you wanted to do was hear him talk, but apparently you had to make do with what you had.

The guys arrived all together maybe two minutes after he stopped talking to you.

“Okay, let's stop by the equipment office so you can all get your climbing gear.”

Cruelty didn't even begin to cover the ugly feeling coursing through your every limb. It was a sour kind of betrayal, both from your own body and from the person who has so perfectly won you over in nothing but four days of half smiles and hard work and competent guidance.

It felt like your stomach was being played tennis with, slammed from one side to the other.

Namjoon seemed entirely oblivious to the wretched state you were in, especially once he knelt in front of you and tugged at the straps around your thighs, slipping two fingers in between the harness and your skin to make sure there was enough space for your muscles to flex comfortably. “All set?” he asked, but his voice was dark and once his eyes shot up to your face he couldn't hide a flicker of lust lighting up his guts.

This angle, he thought, was just the same as when he'd lifted your leg and placed the back of your knee over his shoulder, his nose diving in the metallic, earthy scent of you.

He was getting hard. He could tell.

But you took a step back. “Yes.” Your reply was glacial, and it seemed as if you couldn't remove your harness fast enough.

“I'll be right back,” you told him over your shoulder as you headed for the closest restroom in the sports hall.

Namjoon just nodded and watched you go.

“What did you do to her?” Jackson asked him, an unwelcome afterthought, like his personal little devil perched on his shoulder.

“I have no idea,” Namjoon replied, sincere and confused.

“Did you tell her something rude? With your typical lone wolf harshness?” Jaebeom pitched in.

“Who made her mad?” Asked Wooyoung, staring at your figure as you dashed across the hall.

“Namjoon,” said Jackson, not even bothering with stating that maybe you weren't mad at all, and that Namjoon had done absolutely nothing to upset you.

Yet, it was his interaction with you that had made you dash. Or so he thought.

“Go check on the girl, you fool! Didn't mother teach you anything?”

All the guys turned in Bangchan's direction and he seemed to quote, “Broke your heart I'll put it back together, I would wait forever and ever, and that's how it works, that's how you get the girl.”

Jackson and Jaebeom just stared at him, as if they couldn't recognise their friend at all.

“She literally said what every girl wants and we still act like girls are a mystery. Just listen to them, for goodness’ sake.”

Namjoon nodded for a couple seconds, then started in the direction you went.

He entered the corridor to the restroom, and hesitated by the shared washing room that gave access both to the men's toilets and the women's ones. He walked through the women's door. Three other doors in front of him.

He really, wholeheartedly hoped there weren't other women around.

“Plum, are you okay?”

Silence followed.

“I know you're here, Plum. I just need to know you're alright. I don't know what I said or did to upset you, but—”

A door opened and for a second he thought he would die of mortification, then he registered your face.

Relief, at first.

Then something else.

Your cheeks were aflame, and your chest too seemed to be on fire.

Your lips were as red as he'd ever seen them, and it wasn't makeup because he hadn't noticed any bright colour on your face earlier.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded, still speechless.

“You don't seem okay. What is it? Did I—?”

“I am fine, Namjoon. Don't worry. I'm alright. Perfectly okay.”

“But you—”

“Wonderfully fantastic, Namjoon.” Your tone was clipped

You made your way to the door when he stepped in front of it. “Are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just told you so!”

He pinched a lock of your hair in between his thumb and forefinger, straightened it, then released it. “You were grumpy this morning.”

“Just stressed about climbing.”

“Nothing to do with me, so?”

You rolled your eyes. Why would he be so perceptive? “Absolutely not.”

“Am I frustrating you?” he asked, and stepped closer.

“Yes, immensely, with all your questions and— The guys will be suspicious. Do they know you—”

“That I came after you? Yes, they saw you dash and suggested I check in on you, which I wanted to do myself, but I wasn't sure it was a good idea, and their validation sort of helped. I know you're mad at me, I don't know why, though!”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You don't know why?!”

You tried to sidestep him, but he was like a wall in front of you. “I don't.”

“I woke up! Alone! I was…!” You gesticulated as if to complete your accusation, but the words wouldn't come out.

“I see,” Namjoon replied, and he immediately noticed it was patronising, which made you seethe at him, pointing a finger against his chest.

“Do not use that tone with me, mister. You could at least have left a note.”

He looked at you like you were nothing but a tiny little mouse he was about to thwart with his big bearish paws. “I'm sorry, Plum. You're right, I should have left a note.”

It was true, he'd dashed earlier that morning, but it was only because a deer had been found not far from the main road, his hind legs severely damaged, and he'd been called to help the local wildlife ranger to pick the animal up for rescue. “It was an emergency and I dashed out and—”

“I woke up and you were gone.” Your eyes were wide, perfectly showing the disbelief you'd felt. “I woke up—” you said, and the pause that followed was like you were looking for words and only the wrong ones were coming up. “I woke up,” you repeated, “wanting you,” you added, cheeks aflame again, eyes aimed at him like guns, like saying ‘you know what I mean’, “And you weren't there,” you concluded.

He stared at you for one or two blinks. “Wanting me?” He asked, and you shoved him back with both your hands, even more fed up.

He, however, caught your wrists and brought them down to your sides, jutting his chin forward in a cocky expression. “You wanted me.”

Your cheeks were boiling and your eyes couldn't bear his face any longer, so you turned them down, to the floor. “Yes.”

“Plum,” he called, his hands trailing up your forearms, all the way to your shoulders.

You shivered, but he proceeded still, headed for the sides of your neck, then your cheeks.

“You want me still, sweets?” His thumbs forced your face up, but your eyes were glued to the floor. “Come on, Plum. Look at me, darling.”

Reluctantly, you did.

“Oh, sweets,” he spoke, ever so gently, so tender. “I was called on an emergency by the rangers of the local park. We were rescuing a deer.”

Your pout was still glued to your face, and you weren't sure why. You're used to commandeering around ten men at a time, but this one, this specific man is not a force you can reckon with.

“I wanted to stay, Plum. I truly did.” He kissed your temple when your initial frustration seemed to subside. “Let me make it up to you, sweets.”

He touched the curve of your neck with his forefinger. “Was it when I asked about your day this morning?” He asked, his finger roaming across your collarbones. “When I asked how you slept?” His finger aimed even lower, just a few millimetres beneath the neckline of your top. He lowered his mouth to your ear, and when he spoke “Or was the sight of me kneeling in front of you, like when you came all over my mouth?”

Your insides clenched like you hadn't just given them the sort of satisfaction they were looking for.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked, as if he needed to be in your good graces. “Anything you want, sweets.” While one hand drew the line of your side, coming to rest on your waist, the other rested on your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your lower lip, and his brow knit as if he were in physical pain from the longing. And goodness, if he knew how to pine…

You let your lips disclose for him and he inhaled sharply as the warmth of your exhale slithered past his fingertip.

His right hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded again, and he smiled, so softly it killed you.

“Use your words, Plum.”

Your heartbeat skipped, your temper now entirely dissolved into warm honey. “Please, kiss me.”

He nodded, his smile so blindingly happy. And he lowered himself to you.

His lips were soft against your own, so delicate and tentative. No tongue, just tiny pecks.

He seemed ready to let go of you, but you had other thoughts in mind. He was already rising, and all you could do was grip the nape of his hair, and keep him still, kissing the line of his jaw now that his mouth was out of reach.

He pulled back, fighting you a little as you kept delivering open mouthed kisses to his throat, by now reaching his collarbone.

He tipped his head back to make eye contact with you and you stopped.

“You wannit?” He said, the words coming out like a dark purr, smooth and vaguely threatening.

You nodded, exasperated, then remembered his correction from before and whispered, “Will you fuck me, please?”

His grin was devilish and helpless at the same time. He shook his head and tried to angle himself away from you, running his hands through his hair.

He had only as much restraint as a well-disciplined, civilised, mannered man, no more no less.

Even a saint would break for you.

You thought he was about to head for the door and leave when he stood before it, locked it shut and turned back to you, with two great strides before slamming his mouth to yours and grabbing your ass, picking you up like you were nothing compared to what he usually lifts in the gym.

You found yourself with your back to the wall and him pressed up against your front, squeezing you in a way that could have been suffocating, except you loved the way he was so explicit in wanting you, and how easy you could read the restraint he was imposing on himself.

You ground against his navel and he lowered you just a little, so that your core was square against his pelvis.

“Woke up late,” you told him in between kisses and gasps. “I stretched over to your side—“

He tried to focus on your words but all he could do was stare at your mouth and register the bits he needed.

“I wanted you,” you said, and it came out like a cry.

“I know,” he said, soft, understanding, soothing.

“You weren’t there, and I was late, and I couldn’t—” You gasped as he dove for your throat, biting gently, making you arch into him, against him, your bodies flush against each other. “I was so mad. So frustrated.”

“Let it all out, sweets,” he said, reliable, steady, strong. “Lay it all on me.”

“I didn’t even have time to pull myself together ‘cause I was late,” you whine, and it came out so weak, so silly.

“I can fix that for you, if you want me to. Just say the words.” He didn’t even need anything done to himself, he just wanted to please you. So many years of well-spent solitude and self-control had taught him everything about patience, everything about himself. It was not his own pleasure he’d learnt to desire, but the pleasure he could give to someone else.

“Want you inside,” you mumbled, chasing his mouth, needing his lips sucking your own, tongues tangled together. Feeling him through his shorts, through your own shorts too was torture when he could be skin to skin against you, inside you, even.

“We’d need to stretch you first, it’s gonna take a bit, baby,” he reminded you, worried.

You bit your lip and looked away. “What if I’d already handled that?”

His eyes went wide, then he bit your chin fondly with a curious enthusiasm. “Just cause I looked at you while kneeling?”

You felt your cheeks flush with fire. “You were— It was like when, the other day you—”

“Hold tight,” he said, then freed an arm by using his forearm to hold you up from beneath both your thighs. With his spare hand, he shoved his shorts down before stopping. “Condom. Damn!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, then let your forehead fall to his shoulder. “Please…”

“Plum, I—”

You weren’t on birth control, and you couldn’t risk going bare. You possibly never could. Not with your period being the most irregular thing ever, and knowing that you could be ovulating any day now.

He helped you slide down his body. “You don’t happen to—”

“Left them in my bedside drawer.”

He let his forehead fall against the wall.

“I cannot go bare—” you offered weakly.

He kissed your temple. “I wouldn’t ask you that. Not even if we were both one hundred percent sure.”

You bit your lip again, thinking, a frown forming on your forehead. And then—

You took his hand in yours, dragged him to the washbasin, with its mirror right in front of you, and as you stood against the counter, his body pressed up behind you, you lowered your shorts, exposing your naked behind to him.

“Plum, I don't think this is a good idea,” he said, biting his tongue.

“You can just grind and I'll—” You brought your hand to your labia and traced a circle against your core that almost made you shiver.

“This could get messy,” he said.

You turned to look at him from over your shoulder and with a flirty smile you added, “I don’t remember it being a problem last time.”

He shook his head and grinned, wolfish and sexy.

You couldn’t quite align the sight of him now with the person he had been out in public about thirty minutes ago; and it got worse when he grabbed the left side of your face with his right hand and brought his mouth to your cheek, biting it gently, his lips giving it a slight suction, as if he were half between nibbling and kissing.

Your head was playing some hard rock soundtrack while it all happened, and it was feral, and you were almost disconnected from yourself but it was heavenly.

It was all heavenly until they knocked at the door.

You stared at each other in the mirror and he cursed under his breath.

“Keep going,” you whispered. “Let them eat cake.”

It took maybe a millisecond to win him over, and it got even rougher, his hand was at your neck, grabbing at the base of your jaw, and he gave a little jerk as your eyes rolled shut. He called for your attention and as soon as you mustered the strength to open your eyes, he brought his other hand to the hill of your pelvis, his hand dwarfing you as he cupped you. “Eyes on me, Plum.”

And you kept your pupils glued to his as he stuck two of his beautifully long, perfectly thick fingers inside you.

Your jaw went slack and he grinned, your hand reaching behind you to grab his ass, pushing him even closer up against you, clawing at his glute.

This time it was his jaw that was left hanging.

You were moving just right against each other, and the knocking stopped, and the last thing you knew was that he groaned, head thrown back before you felt it, hot and wet against you. His head snapped forward next, teeth sinking at the spot between your neck and shoulder as he tried to muffle a moan.

Similarly, you pressed the ball of your hand to your lips as your left one assisted his own between your legs, his fingers inside you while your digits worked on the outside.

He murmured sweet nothings in your ear as he focused on you, kissing, sucking, nibbling at the sensitive skin near your neck and jaw and collarbone. “Come on, Plum,” he whispered. “Come on my fingers, sweet thing. I promise I’ll be so good to you.” His mouth was everywhere on you, and his hand — the one not inside you — was so sweet on your face and your hair.

“I’ll give you anything tonight, I swear, Plum. Anything you want, you’ll have it. It’s all yours,” he said, back to his chivalrous, servicing self. “You’re so beautiful, so precious, so lovely.” His nose was deep in your hair, inhaling you, the osmanthus and elderflower of your shampoo. “I never thought I would find something like you. You’re unbelievable.”

And there was so much pining, so much longing in his dark and shimmering eyes, that when you looked at him again, you crumbled, your legs giving out, and you were lucky his arms had you locked in his embrace: his left one holding your torso and head upright while his hand cradled your face; his right arm instead ran across your waist and navel, his fingers still deep inside you, and it was only thanks to his forearm that you didn’t melt to the floor. His hips were pinning you to the hard edge of the counter, and you knew it would feel tender later, maybe bruise even, but in the haze of your ecstasy you almost found it sexy.

“There you go, Plum,” he cooed at you, his smile all gentle and apprehensive. “That’s my good girl.”

Your head fell back on his shoulder and he kissed you on your lips, a polite little peck that made your stomach flutter.

He was strong, he was dependable and steady, responsible, and it came so easy to you to give up control and just let him take over.

You’d always been neurotic — is that the right word? — about sex. About letting yourself be vulnerable and weak and passive, but with him you just let yourself float to his current, and that was probably one of the best choices you’d ever made.

Your eyes opened and when you finally put him on focus, he gave you this dreamy little smile, and just then you realised how rare it is to see his face like that, up close, but also so serene. So… happy?

“Hello?” you said and he shook his head slowly, as if amused.

“Hello,” he answered.

And you both giggled. “Are we in trouble?” You asked.

“Not sure. But I’m sure you’re nothing but trouble to me.” He gave you a squeeze as you were still in his arms and you were about to frown, not sure how to interpret his sentence. “Despicable, unresistable trouble.” His hand was still inside you and you clenched a little, ready to take more. He inhaled sharply. “Sweet, lovely trouble.” His thumb skimmed your hipbone fondly.

You breathed out slowly, trying to steady yourself. “I guess we should go before we get into any more trouble than this.”

He froze for a second, then nodded and let go of you. “Sure. I’ll just clean you up.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I’ll take care of that.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, but he was staring at the floor, and he was covering himself, and you could tell you’d made a mistake somewhere.

“You sure you don’t mind?” you ask, and he stopped and looked at your reflection.

You were dishevelled and half naked, but he stared at your face like that was the only thing that mattered.

“Of course I don’t?” He said, but it came out almost as a question. He grabbed a towel and soaked it under the tap. “I don’t know the etiquette about this kind of situation,” he murmured while rubbing the towel gently against your glutes. “I’d like to think this would be the polite thing to do. Fix the mess I make.”

Is it just a matter of politeness? you asked yourself, eyes averted. “Sure,” you said and smiled, like it’s no big deal.

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

Taglist: @blushingatyou @ladykadyrova @sweetjellyfishland @starxclouds @ayanyamnyam (taglist is open!)

#small town swoons #natural connection #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon au #namjoon x yn #namjoon x plum #houseofddaeng #52hertz #bangtansorciere #btswritersclub

60 notes · View notes

magicshopaholic · 2 years

Text

Honey (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: A normal night in the kitchen turns into something more when you discover your boyfriend has an interesting kink.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Established relationship; smut, fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 6.5 K

Warnings: making out, palming, cupping, nipple play, food play, pain play, blowjobs, unprotected sex (she's on the pill), fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, mild dirty talk

A/N: After a long, long time, my beloved Jungkook and Lia are back! I honestly didn't think I'd write for these two again because their series ended short and sweet, but the more I thought about it, the more they just made sense as part of my headcanon universe.

As such, this fic is set a couple of months after The Sixth, once Jungkook and Lia are officially together. However, this can also be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @kflixnet @k-radio (italics cannot be tagged)

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask :)

Listen to: “in the waiting line” by zero 7

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

This wasn't what Lia had in mind when she'd proposed cooking together.

She was a reasonably okay cook, as was Jungkook, and together she expected they might be able to conjure up a decent dinner on their first night together since his trip to London and hers to Tokyo. Maybe there would be some bickering over seasoning, maybe a filmy food fight, possibly ending with some playful making out while they kept one eye on the stove.

Sitting before her mostly-naked boyfriend later that night with a jar of warm honey in her hand? Unexpected.

"Are you sure?"

Jungkook nods, eyes trained up at the ceiling. She can't tell if he's shy or doubtful, but if there's one thing she wants to be about this, it's sure.

A few hours earlier, when they'd been simultaneously trying to follow two recipes and keep her small kitchen tidy, all she cared about was ensuring that nothing spilled. But somehow, when it came to them, even that was expecting too much.

"Jungkook, hand me the spring onions."

"Wait - where's the chilli powder? The sauce is already thickening."

"It's in that cupboard over there, I think," she said hurriedly, pointing vaguely in the direction of the cabinets. "Under the cornflower. Can you hand me the spring -"

"Oh, fuck, that's spicy!" Jungkook hissed, screwing his eyes shut as he exhaled heavily through his mouth.

"Well, you aren't supposed to taste it, just smell it," she said, rolling her eyes but reaching over to take the powder from him anyway. "And can you - okay, you know what? I'll get the spring onions myself."

"I think my mouth is on fire."

"Can you put the cut onions in the other pot, babe? They won't cook otherwise."

"Okay, where is -"

"Other side of the stove," she began, but Jungkook found it by then. Maneuvering around her and reaching for the cutting board, he dropped the onions into the pot, a loud hiss and stinging vapour emanating instantly.

"Lower the heat, Kook!"

"I - oh, God, the sauce!" In a rather chaotic sequence of events, Jungkook lunged for the abandoned chilli powder while the sauce bubbled away on the stove, the same time that Lia suddenly remembered that she'd forgotten the noodles altogether.

As they slammed into each other, Lia turned suddenly to close a cabinet door just as Jungkook appeared behind her, and the edge of the door scraped his shoulder with an audible sound.

"Shit, Kook, I'm so sorry!" All thoughts of spring onions forgotten, she looked around frantically for any empty space on the counter to place them and free her hands, before turning to Jungkook. "Are you okay?"

He nodded wordlessly, head lowered as he clutched his right shoulder with his left hand, his knuckles white as he pressed down. She turned off the stove and reached for him, gently coaxing his hand away.

"Lia, it's okay -" He tried to say, shaking his head but she ignored him, guilt bubbling small and deep inside of her.

"Take off your shirt," she instructed, tugging at the bottom of it. He looked for a moment like he was going to argue but slipped his long-sleeved black t-shirt over his head, his thick hair tousled as he emerged.

"Show me," she said softly, turning him around so she could get a look at it. Taking a step back, she cleared a small space on the edge of the kitchen counter and hopped up onto it, now at eye level with his shoulder.

It was a gash; while the skin remained unbroken, it puckered, a clear red where the edge of the cabinet had run clean along the muscle. Lia touched it lightly before pausing, waiting for his reaction.

"Does it hurt?" she asked anxiously, running her finger over the four inch mark and immediately stopping when he hissed.

"Not really," he said tightly - but she could see his head still lowered and his fists clenched, and she sighed. Jungkook's need to pretend like he didn't feel pain was as unnecessary as it was predictable, but she wasn't fooled.

In an unusual moment of tenderness, she reached over slightly and kissed it. She heard him gasp and paused again, lips still against his skin.

"It's really okay, Lia." His voice was level and controlled, a little too deliberately. "I'm fine."

A bit confused, she backed away slowly, touching the injury once more. Jungkook inhaled again, his breathing ragged, and her heart tugged as she wondered guiltily how much her lack of organisation in the kitchen had hurt him.

"Okay…" she murmured, dropping her hands from his shoulders, frowning when he immediately reached for his t-shirt and slipped it on. "Do you want to finish cooking?" she asked, hopping off.

"No, you go ahead," he answered quickly, still not looking fully at her. "I'll - I'll eat later."

Lia's heart dropped. Was he really that angry with her? Jungkook wasn't one to have a very short temper, apart from the occasional tantrum here and there where he usually caught himself in time.

He was almost out of the kitchen when she suddenly hopped over and grabbed his arm. "Kook, wait."

"Lia, I just need -"

But she cut him off, tugging at his arm to get him to face her, moving right in front of him so he wouldn't have a choice. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it would get so messy but -" She paused abruptly, wondering if that could possibly be what she thought it was.

Next to her, Jungkook froze, his eyes shut tightly. Lia bit her lip, staying in the same spot but moving her body slightly closer… just to confirm.

"Jungkook," she began lightly, "is that your phone in your pocket?"

"Um…" The arm she was holding flexed, and she could feel his sinewy forearm tremble. "... yes?" He twitched again, and this time the movement was unmistakable through his joggers.

"Really?" Lia asked in a hushed voice, hearing the wonder in it.

By the way he didn't answer right away, it was clear that he knew she wasn't asking about the proverbial phone in his pocket. Finally opening his eyes but still not looking at her, he nodded. "M-hm."

"I…" She didn't quite know how to respond - but the expression on his face combined with what she was feeling against her hip made her stomach flutter. "Since when?"

"A while."

When he didn't elaborate, she slid her hand lower to his tattooed one and linked her fingers with his. Her gaze flickering to the dent in his joggers, she raised a hand to feel it but paused, hovering less than an inch away from it.

"Just scratches?" she asked calmly, her voice just a murmur.

"N-no." Jungkook swallowed. "I mean… sometimes. Scratches, pressure… heat." Down below, his erection twitched, rising into her palm.

Lia's toes curled against the bare floor of her kitchen. She palmed him gently, raising her gaze to see him looking right back at her, this time with less embarrassment. "What else?" she asked quietly.

Now, she knows what else.

Jungkook lies on her bed, fully naked but for black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. His hair, uncut now for weeks, is long and slightly wavy on her white pillowcase. Lia sits beside him in a tank top and her underwear, a jar of warm honey she's just heated, a wooden ice cream spoon resting on the top of the jar.

"Are you sure?" she asks again, hearing the doubt in her own voice.

"Yeah," he mutters, gaze meeting hers. He seems… nervous, but in an excited sort of way, from what she can tell. It's like he's about to go bungee jumping or something - except she doesn't have a lot of second hand reviews of the experience in this case.

She can't help but press on. "You promise you'll ask me to stop the moment you're uncomfortable?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Okay." She doesn't move. From the bed, Jungkook raises his eyebrows.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Me? Yeah, of course." She shifts her hips on her heels from where she's kneeling next to him. Placing a hand on his muscular thigh in a mostly comforting manner, she squeezes it slightly.

"Do you remember the safeword?"

Jungkook nods obediently. "Mango."

Lia lets go of his thigh, satisfied. "Okay, then." She takes a deep breath, dipping the tip of her finger into the honey and wincing slightly at the heat before sucking at it. “Here we go.”

His eyes flutter shut and for a moment, Lia simply watches him. He’s absolutely gorgeous, like always. But he’s also ambitious, like always, which includes being so in bed. She has no reason not to trust him; it’s not inconceivable that he may have discovered kinks in his twenty-seven years of life that may be new to her, but his determination to see things through is enough to make her momentarily cautious. The image of a basketball flying through the air flashes through her mind and she shudders, trying to concentrate.

She dips the small wooden spoon into the honey and watches the thick, golden substance cling onto it and drip. Leaning forward, she dips the spoon again and this time takes it out of the jar over his body, watching the warm liquid drip onto the centre of his chest.

Jungkook gasps, but his eyes stay closed. The honey flows, slow and thick between his pectorals, the colour looking incandescent against his tan skin. Bending down and keeping her gaze firmly planted on his face, Lia reaches to lick the honey in one long stroke. It’s sweet, naturally, but not overtly so, and less hot on her tongue than when she’d felt it with her finger.

“Oh, fuck…” His whisper is low and throaty, and it almost sounds like he’s spoken without realising it. Slightly more confident, she swings one leg over his hips to straddle him, feeling his semi against her crotch. Noting the pleasurable squirm in her core at the feel of it, she dips the spoon into the jar again, this time gently dropping a dollop of honey on his sternum, taking care to let it trickle as much as it can, until it stops just above his belly button.

She places the jar next to him on the bed and, taking care to grind against him, leans forward to lick it off. Next to her, Jungkook’s fists clench again, this time with the sheets in his hands. Looking up at his face, Lia can’t resist any longer. Kissing his torso along the sternum and up his chest, sucking at the slightly sticky skin, she reaches up to his jaw.

“God, you’re so hot,” she murmurs, feeling him twitch against her again, big and hard this time. She brushes her lips against his jaw and down his neck, stopping right next to his bobbing Adam’s apple, her breath warm against it. Sliding one hand up his chest, she covers his right pectoral lightly, her fingernails scraping the muscle.

Jungkook whimpers, his neck arching back on the pillow. “Lia…”

Lia’s stomach flutters and she rolls her hips into his a bit more, biting her lip to stop herself from making a sound. “Yeah,” she whispers against his skin, bringing her fingertips lower so they brush against his areola. Underneath her, his cock gives the biggest twitch yet.

He swallows. “Honey…” He seems incapable of saying any more.

She pauses, wondering if she’s understood him right. Backing up slightly, she looks at his face again, at his closed eyes, the slight frown, the lip ring glinting in the dim light. Reaching silently for the honey, she dips the spoon in again, this time hesitating over his right pectoral. Evidently able to feel the heat, Jungkook nods, screwing his eyes shut even tighter.

Alright, then. Tilting the spoon, she watches the golden liquid drip onto his tan chest, down the curve, trickling down to his nipple. The sight makes her clit throb unexpectedly.

Jungkook gasps but doesn’t open his eyes, while his cock now strains against his underwear. Lia reaches over him again, slower this time and taking care to press her body to his, feeling the contours of his abdominal muscles against her own. She feels his hands touch her thighs, holding them gingerly as she touches her tongue to his skin, licking the honey off again, pressing her tongue to it and swirling it around his nipple. His hands react immediately, squeezing her flesh, while his pulsates against her clit.

“Oh, God,” he whimpers again, and Lia has to bite her lip from making a similar sound. “Lee-lee…”

She holds his biceps for support, feeling her fingernails dig into the muscle. “Yeah, baby?” she murmurs back, her teeth grazing lightly over his nipple.

“I…” Jungkook seems incapable of answering, but his hands slide up her thighs and to her arse, the tips of his fingers slipping under the hem of her underwear. His hands feel like he’s just about controlling himself, though, his palms touching her skin but resisting the urge to use the strength he normally does. Resisting… or waiting.

Running her tongue over his nipple again and noting how he shudders slightly, Lia reaches for his other nipple and twists it without warning.

“Fuck!”

As anticipated, he grabs her arse instantly, inadvertently rolling her hips into his, making her grind against him. “Fuck, Kook,” she whispers, but she’s sure he hasn’t even heard her. She licks his skin again, tasting the remnants of the honey before sucking softly at his nipple, moaning softly at the feel of his large cock against her clothed clit as he continues pulling her against him.

Jungkook groans again, and Lia feels herself getting wetter with every sound he makes, loving how good she’s making him feel. She presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against his skin, moving lower down his chest and to his sternum, all the way down his beautiful torso. It arouses her to no end the kind of pride he takes in his body, in toning it and growing it. Even his intense dieting seems to have reduced from what it used to be, according to his friends at least, and Lia can’t help but worship every inch of his gorgeous body when she gets the chance.

She can still taste the slight, sticky sweetness on his torso from the honey she’d poured on it earlier. Sliding down his lap, she continues down his abdomen until she reaches his happy trail, feeling his cock brush her breasts over her tank top. Lia wraps her hand gently around his clothed erection, her heart flipping at his sharp intake of breath.

"Do you want me to suck you?" she breathes, touching the tip and feeling the wet spot from the pre cum that's surely leaked out. In all the time that she's known him, he's never declined such an offer. This time is no different. His fingers tighten in her hair and he moans a soft yes.

Biting her lip and trying not to move too fast out of excitement, she pulls the elastic of his underwear, tugging it down his hips when he raises them off the bed. His erection springs free and Jungkook lets out a throaty sigh. Determined to tease him through everything tonight, Lia grasps him at the base, softly stroking him with her thumb. With her other hand, she gently cups his balls, anticipating his groan this time.

Jungkook’s hand appears from the side, almost as though he’s unaware of it, and covers her fingers around his cock. “Please…” is all he can say apparently before his hand falls back onto the bed. Swallowing, Lia silently acquiesces and moves her hand up his shaft, bringing her lips to it and pressing a soft kiss to the underside.

His hips buckle automatically but he tightens his fingers in her hair again. “No,” he mutters tightly.

Lia halts immediately before backing away. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“No,” he repeats, shaking his head. When she raises her head slightly to meet his gaze, he swallows. “Can you…?”

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip when he nods, his cock hard as rock in her hand. “Okay.” Letting go of him, she reaches for the jar of honey again, a bit more nervous this time. “It’s still hot, Kook,” she warns him softly, squeezing his thigh. “It could hurt.”

Jungkook meets her eyes again and he half-chuckles. “That’s kind of the point.” It’s clear that even he isn’t fully sure what to expect, but the sight of his erection, the tip wet and the girth solid, convinces her somewhat. Hesitating momentarily, Lia reaches up and kisses his cheek.

“Okay, then,” she whispers against his skin, pressing a lighter kiss to his jaw before pulling away. Sitting back on her heels, she spoons out a dollop of golden honey and, taking care to avoid the angry pink tip, she slowly lets the honey drip down his cock, swirling it a bit.

“Oh, fuck!” Jungkook whimpers loudly, making her jump, and he clutches at the sheets with his free hand. His face has that same expression again, the one that she can’t help but stop and stare at every time he’s close to finishing, with the sexy frown and his pink lips open.

Lia moves forward silently, just in time to catch a golden drop on her tongue before it drips onto her white sheets. She sucks on the sweetness, working her way up his balls, cupping them with her other hand as she cleans up every last bit of honey on him.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he whines as his hips buckle again. One of his hands finds its way into her hair again, his fingers tangling in her dark locks. She runs her tongue up his cock, continuing to palm his balls gently, feeling her stomach flip every time he lets out a throaty grunt. She laps up every bit of honey until she reaches his tip and finally takes him in her mouth, the saltiness mixing with the sweetness on her tongue.

“Yes… fuck, yes.” Jungkook’s breath comes out in ragged bursts now, and only intensifies as Lia sucks him off, taking him in as far into her mouth as she can, vaguely tasting the last remnants of the honey on him. His fingers clutch at her hair, voice increasing in pitch, and she lets him go with a soft pop, immediately replacing her mouth with her hand, stroking him rapidly.

She wants to watch him. Jungkook is beyond handsome, enough that she catches herself staring at him doing the most mundane things far too often, but watching him come undone, especially when she’s the one doing it to him, is a sight she feels privileged to behold. His hand slides down from her hair down all the way to her hips, and she straddles his thighs to give both of them a better angle.

His torso glistens, partly due to the lighting and partly due to a light layer of sweat. She doesn’t know if she’s imagining the golden sheen because of the honey on her mind. Gazing at him, she increases the speed at which she’s stroking him, watching him with both fascination and arousal as she pushes him further and further.

She realises a moment too late what the expressions on his face mean, though. Without warning, she feels his hips buck under her again, coupled with a long and guttural groan, and suddenly feels something warm on her hand.

“Shit.” Jungkook sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m so -”

“For what?” Lia asks gently, leaning over him for the tissue box on the bedside table. She pulls out a couple for herself and hands him one as well.

“I - I should’ve warned you,” he mutters, shaking his head as he cleans himself up and chucks the tissue in the corner of the room. “I wanted to cum in -” He breaks off, his ears turning red even as he pants in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She bites her lip, trying not to smile. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, leaning over him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, throwing her soiled tissue to the side like him and straddling him fully. His hands come up to grasp her hips and he sighs when she trails her kisses down his jaw. “I loved doing that to you,” she murmurs.

“It was amazing,” he admits, running his hands up her waist and closing his eyes as her lips against his skin, her long hair brushing his chest. His voice is still slightly shaky and she feels his heart beat rapidly under her palms. “I want to make you feel good, too,” he adds softly after a moment.

Lia freezes, her lips on his sternum. Jungkook evidently feels it, for he squeezes her hips and, against all odds, his cock twitches against her arse. Down below, her clit throbs as though it’s just remembered what was happening a minute ago. Looking up at him, she bites her lip.

“You don’t have to,” she says after a moment. “If you’re feeling guilty or something.”

“I’m not.” He looks down, meeting her gaze. “I really, really want to… make you feel good,” he finishes. He’s still catching his breath from his own orgasm, his eyes dark and glassy.

She swallows, her heart beating faster in anticipation. “How are you planning on doing that?” she asks, crawling up his chest and straightening up slightly. As she slips off her tank top, she hears his sharp intake of breath. Just as she’s been unable to reconcile herself to how stunning he looks on a day to day basis, often stopping mid-task just to watch him, it’s evident that he’s been just as unsuccessful every time she takes off her clothes, especially a top.

“Shit, come here,” he mutters, tugging at her hips. Pulling her close, they kiss for the first time since they started, all the pent up energy exploding the moment their mouths meet.

Lia moans into his mouth, his hands burning into her skin and his chest feeling hard and steady against hers. She rolls her hips into his, the friction feeling delicious against her soaking core. He moves his hands to grab her arse, his fingers sliding the elastic down to feel her skin, firm and round in his grasp. She can’t help but moan again, when Jungkook suddenly flips them over.

Hovering over her, his wavy hair in his face and his lips twisted into a playful smirk, Lia’s heart has no chance. It’s the hardest thing in the world to try and stop kissing him, and when he begins making his way down her torso, burying his face in her cleavage, she thinks she might just be falling in love with him.

“Take this off,” he mutters, wrapping an arm around her and lifting her off the bed by a couple of inches so she can reach behind her and unhook her bra. He groans the moment her breasts are freed, immediately reaching up for them and kneading them. His eyes flutter shut, almost as though he’s moving simply through his sense of touch, lightly nipping the flesh until his lips reach her nipples.

“Oh, that feels good,” she sighs, her back arching slightly when he licks her right nipple, his other hand twisting her left one between two fingers. She runs her fingers through his hair, feeling it damp as he begins sucking on her nipple, almost hypnotised. She moves her hips upwards against pelvis, trying to get more friction and whining in impatience when he shifts. “Kook…”

It takes Jungkook a few seconds to part from her breasts, pressing kisses to the underside and down to her ribs until he travels all the way to the bottom of her torso. “You’re so sexy,” he murmurs, sucking softly at the flesh just above the hem of her underwear. With his mouth so close to her clit, she can feel herself soaking further through her underwear, barely able to hold on anymore.

“God, Kook, put your tongue in me,” she whispers, gently yanking at his hair. He gasps, immediately moving lower and pulling her underwear down. His breathless chuckle tells her he can see just how wet she is.

“You really thought I didn’t have to take care of you?” he asks, gently pushing her legs up so her knees bend. Even through the haze of arousal, she can hear how earnest he sounds. “Even when you’re like this?”

“I…” She looks down and meets his lustful gaze, her heart flipping when she notices how his tongue is poking into his cheek. “I want you now. I really… really want you to take care of me right now.” She drops her head back down onto the pillow and the next second, she feels his mouth press a kiss right next to her lips. “Oh, God…”

Thankfully, he doesn’t tease her anymore, simply moving to kiss her outer lips before his tongue finds her clit, swollen and ready for him. He presses his tongue against the nub, his strong hands holding her thighs up as he laps up her juices, his lips soft yet firm against her cunt.

“Yes, Jungkook…” Lia clutches at his hair, her core burning in a way that tells her she’s close, so close. “Suck on it… fuck, Kook, I want -” Her words are cut off when she whimpers, feeling him suck on her clit, first gently, then harder. His tongue moves in long, steady strokes, pulling her thighs to his face. “Yes, oh, god, yes…”

She moves a hand up to her chest, pinching her nipple while her other hand stays in his hair and she spreads her legs as much as she can. She can feel him groaning into her, and the sound is just about pushing her over the edge. “God, Kook, don’t stop, don’t -” She twists her nipple harder, her back arching even more. She can feel a clamminess on her neck but she doesn’t bother for she’s so close…

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

Her orgasm crashes over her, all the way from her cunt to her chest, and all the way down to her extremities. She sees nothing but spots for a moment, only vaguely feeling him crawl up her body. He kisses the top of her rib cage, the tops of her breasts, lip ghosting over her neck, her jaw, her earlobe.

“You are so fucking hot, Lee-lee,” he murmurs, kissing her cheek before capturing her lips in his. She wraps her arms around his neck, wanting to feel nothing but him against her for the rest of the night, possibly the rest of her life. There’s only one thing that gets her eyes to snap open; she frowns in confusion as he sucks softly at her collarbone.

“Are you still hard, baby?”

Jungkook pauses, and she knows she’s right. Stiff and poking into her pelvis, Jungkook’s cock twitches tellingly the moment she utters the words.

“Yes,” he whines hoarsely into her neck, burying his nose further into the crevice as he tightens his arms around her. “But you’re sore and I -”

“Says who?” Lia waits as he falls silent, and she can practically hear his brain working out a response. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes in what she can only describe as endeared exasperation, she presses a kiss to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of sex and sweat off his skin. Truth be told, she doesn’t know if she’s sore yet. Her clit will surely be sensitive, but the thought of him hard and aroused is something she can’t bring herself to ignore.

Jungkook straightens up slightly so he can look at her. “Are you sure?” he asks, eyes wide. Against her hip, she can feel him twitch again. “Because I can -”

She kisses him, sighing into his mouth when he kisses her back, lips firm and passionate against hers. “I would really like for you to fuck me, Jungkook,” she murmurs against his lips, running a hand through his hair again. Pressing her chest up to his, she nips at his lower lip. “I want you to get me wet -” she moves her lips to his jaw “- and enter me -” she kisses the spot under his ear “- and stretch me out -” she bites softly at his earlobe as he hisses “- and since it’s a weekend, I want you try and make sure I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Jungkook pulls away slowly, biting his lip, and before she can gaze at his handsome face again, he straightens up and flips her over onto her stomach. The movement makes her swollen clit brush against the sheets and she lets out an involuntary moan.

“You’re really sure, baby?” he asks, his fingers already brushing between her thighs. When she nods, not trusting herself to speak, she feels his fingers travel up her arse and to the small of her back, running over where she knows is her stupid tramp stamp, the worst drunk decision she’s ever made, and what Jungkook insists is his favourite tattoo of hers ever since she told him she hated it.

“Can I try something?”

Lia frowns, expecting to feel his fingers inside of her by now. She props herself up on her elbows to look back at him, her messy hair partially obscuring her view. “What?” When she sees his eyes dart to the jar of honey on the bedside table, she bites her lip. “Are you serious?”

“I mean, only - only if you’re okay with it,” he adds quickly, moving his hand up to stroke her back. “I just - I wanted to try.” His cheeks start reddening and he looks away, his doubtful expression extremely incongruous to his large and muscular body, tall and naked like a Greek statue.

After considering it for a moment, she shrugs. “Okay. Just… make sure it doesn’t get on the sheets.”

His eyes widen. “Really?” He sounds genuinely surprised, even as his cock pulses against her hip. He swallows when she nods, his free hand absently finding her arse cheek and squeezing it. He leans over to retrive the jar as she turns back around, sweeping her long hair off her back. “It’s not even that hot anymore,” he promises, adjusting himself between her spread legs. “Ready?”

Lia nods into the pillow, tensing only slightly. “Yeah.” A moment later, she gasps softly when she feels a hot liquid on the middle of her back, trickling thick and warm down her spine.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook’s voice is tentative, but there’s a hint of longing there and it only makes her wish she could see the look on his face.

“Yeah.” She nods again, for after a few seconds, the initial shock of the heat wears off. The closest comparison she has to it is wax, except it isn’t as scalding - and is far less punishing, especially when the strip is replaced with Jungkook’s mouth, wet and slow, slowly making its way up her back. She sighs into the pillow, feeling his strong frame cover her completely as he presses open-mouthed kisses all the way up to her neck.

“Was it okay?” he murmurs, kissing the spot on her shoulder where another tattoo lies - this one actually her favourite. She answers in a soft, content moan, feeling his erect cock settle in between her arse cheeks while his torso presses comfortably against her back. “Are you okay with more?”

“Just a bit,” she answers, not wholly comfortable with the stickiness she’s sure will remain. Jungkook acquiesces, dribbling a smaller amount, this time straight on her lower back where the sting of the heat feels slightly sharper. His mouth is on her skin instantly, his hands kneading at her arse before one brushes in between her legs and lightly feels for her cunt.

“Step one, done,” he confirms against her skin, and she can hear the smirk in his voice as he feels her wetness returning. Clearly aware of how sensitive she might be already, he continues with soft, gentle strokes against her clit.

Lia moans louder this time, clutching at her pillow as she savours the feel of his fingers, long and firm against her. His thumb ghosts over her pussy, but he doesn’t put his finger in and she’s grateful for the short respite, especially if he’s intending on following through with her requests.

“Kook,” she gasps after a minute, feeling the familiar heat in her abdomen once again. Behind her, Jungkook pauses where his mouth is on her shoulder blade and two of his fingers are inside her slit, rubbing her nub deliciously. “Kook, I’m gonna cum if you keep going, baby,” she admits, fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together.

He brushes her hair off her shoulder and kisses her neck. “I can move on to step two?”

“God, yes…” She squeezes her eyes shut when his fingers disappear, unable to keep from groaning in their absence. Her heart begins thudding, though, when he straightens up behind her and holds her hips, lifting them up slightly before entering her. “Fuck, Kook…”

Behind her, Jungkook groans in pleasure as he stretches her out, giving her everything she’d asked for. He pulls out halfway again before bottoming out, her wet cunt making the movement smooth yet tight. Lia muffles her moans into the pillow as he establishes a rhythm, feeling his balls brush againsther clit with every thrust.

“God, Kook…” She swallows, trying to find her voice. “Are you sure you can give me enough of a reason not to walk tomorrow?”

Jungkook responds with a grunt, thrusting hard into her. “I know I can,” he mutters, and, just as she’d hoped, he slams into her with renewed force, increasing his speed. Her whimpers grow louder and his groans increase in pitch as well. “Fuck, your cunt is so perfect, Lee-lee…”

His words send a wave of pleasure through her and she pushes her hips towards him, willing him to fuck her harder. “Yes - god, yes, Jungkook… fuck, just like that -”

Just as she says it, he pulls out and flips her over. The sight of him once again makes her heart race and she pulls him to her, kissing him frantically. Pulling away with a wondrous chuckle, Jungkook brushes a damp strand of hair off her neck. “You really think I can’t fuck you that hard?” he asks, his tone playful and sexy all at once, as though she’s challenged him at FIFA.

Despite how breathless she is and how much her cunt is aching for him, she scoffs. “Prove it, Jeon,” she says, panting slightly.

He bites his lip and grins, sweaty hair falling into his eyes, and holds her gaze as he enters her this time. It doesn’t last long, for he lowers his head to kiss her neck and her eyes flutter shut as she takes him in, feeling so full and so connected to him that she whimpers his name.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, pushing into her and resuming his pace. Lia wraps her legs around his waist, feeling his sweaty body against hers as he thrusts into her with all the strength his body looks like it would have.

“Harder, Jungkook…”

He obliges, his hips snapping against hers, the sound echoing against the walls of her room. She's vaguely glad that Dal isn't in the house; the sound of him slamming into her, coupled with their moans and whimpers and grunts could wake residents more than one floor up.

"Lia, I'm close…" Jungkook gasps, his torso shining above her as he picks up his pace. She nods, biting down on her lip hard, chasing the orgasm she knows is building, about to overwhelm her at any point.

The last few punishing thrusts send her over the edge and her vision swims as she comes undone, somehow making out Jungkook's throaty groan as well as he finishes inside her. She can feel his warmth coat her walls vaguely as she clenches weakly around him, wanting him to stay there forever. He lowers his head to kiss her, seeming just as dazed as she feels.

“Fuck, that was incredible,” she whispers, left with no energy for more. Jungkook nods and kisses her again, his mouth curving into a gorgeous, tired smile. Groaning softly, he pulls away and reaches for the tissue box. He pulls out of her slowly, and Lia doesn’t even care that she audibly whines as he does, suddenly feeling cool and empty. He cleans himself up and wipes the insides of her thighs in a few quick strokes before sinking onto the bed beside her.

Automatically curling into his chest the same moment he holds out his arm, both of them catch their breath in relative silence.

“So?” Jungkook asks after about a minute, and she looks up to see him running a hand through his damp, wavy strands. “Did I do it?”

It takes Lia a moment to understand what he’s referring to. Cuddling further into him, she shrugs. “We’ll find out tomorrow.”

He chuckles but doesn’t say anything, simply tightening his arm around her. “By the way,” he says after a few seconds, “how was the… I mean, were you okay with…” He raises his eyebrows and motions with the other hand, as though holding a spoon.

“Oh.” Lia considers this. “It was sweet,” she decides, smiling when Jungkook grins and turns towards her to kiss her. His lips are so soft and comforting, and he pulls her close with both arms, enveloping her. “But I don’t think it’s really my thing,” she adds when they pull apart.

He nods. “That’s fair. Maybe you can stay the chef and I’ll be your snack,” he suggests.

She laughs. “That’ll be one hell of a snack, Jeon.” When Jungkook simply shrugs and winks at her, she feels the same fluttering in her chest as she did before, the one where she’s sure her heart won’t stand a chance when it comes to him. It’s a big deal, a big step to confess what she thinks she’s feeling and the last thing she wants to do is push this relationship into anything before they’re ready.

Still, when he presses his lips to her forehead and hugs her closer, she rests her cheek against his chest and wonders if it might just be the right time, or if he feels the same at all. He seems to adore her; he’s young and ambitious, but the look on his face every time he looks at her is the main reason she's been excited to wake up every morning the last three months.

Her heart starts racing again, this time in anticipation. “Kook,” she says softly, feeling him turn his head to look at her. She doesn’t return his gaze, however, suddenly too self-conscious. “I, um…” She clears her throat. “I want to…” Shit.

“Yeah?” he prompts when she doesn’t speak for another few seconds.

Lia sighs. “I need to take a shower.”

Maybe now really isn’t the right time.

“Oh.” Jungkook pauses. “Okay. Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah, alright.” Despite the failed confession, she finds her stomach flip pleasantly at the thought. “But I have to warn you,” she says, sitting up with a wince, “I don’t think I have round three in me.”

—

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still-with-koo · 7 months

Text

The Campaign | JJK

Series: Chapter One

summary: fortune has never been on the side of people like you. but when The City threatens your family, you set out to participate in The Campaign, a notoriously treacherous tournament with almost zero chance of survival.

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 4,898

genre/warnings/rating: 17+; dystopian au; supernatural au; angst; some fluff; enemies to still enemies, maybe frenemies; enemies to lovers; swearing; descriptions/ mentions of violence; reader is in life or death situation; mentions of physical deformities; references to physical and emotional abuse; imbalances in power; some (poor) attempts at humour; the characters in this story are my own and do not reflect on the members of bts or anyone else. this is all made up and just for fun, please don’t take it too seriously!

a/n: it’s here! it’s here! a little late for our bestie’s birthday, but better late than never, right? :)

taglist: @jeonqkooks @chaotichuman0090 @smwhrinthehaze

masterlist | ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3

The bell tower tolls midnight in the distance. Not that any of the townsfolk hear it, the sound faint in the wake of the ravages of poverty and famine.

Hunger makes the senses grow dull.

You blink your eyes open. The night is dark as coal and you can hardly make out where you end and the rest of the room begins.

Shifting in your place on the cool wooden floor, you tilt towards the soft snores coming from the cot beside you. Your mother is still asleep.

You let your hands wander across your quilt, feeling the stitching one last time, memories of your mother’s laughter as she sat by the windowsill threading together the patterned squares. Echoes of a simpler time.

You notice your palms are sweaty despite the coolness of the night and quickly wipe them off on your ragged clothes, pushing off the ground with the utmost stealth. You can’t risk waking anyone.

Your mother looks so calm under the flicker of moonlight seeping through the threadbare curtains. The lines of her face fade and you see the beauty she has always been and forever will be. You hope she can forgive you.

You glance a few steps behind her and see your younger brother, still as night itself, and you wonder if he is truly asleep. You don’t have time to check. He will keep this secret as he has kept all others. You whisper goodbye and hope his heart hears you.

Pressing a gentle kiss into your mother’s disheveled hair, you slip a note into her outstretched hand. She should know why the floor is empty when she awakens. You just hope she reads it before she wanders into the forest looking for you.

You’ll be long gone by then.

The forest looms ahead of you like a crouching dragon, dark and eery in the dead of night.

A chill snakes its way up your spine as you stare down at the vastness. The endless trees hiding terrors you have faced before, the pangs of hunger pushing you to find solace in its desolate depths. What lies beyond the outlines of the forest is beyond your imagination, however, having never set foot outside the grounds of Sector 17.

And if the folktales passed from one campfire to the next are true at all, those terrors are nothing compared to the terrors you will face at The Campaign.

You pull your cape tighter around your shoulders as you remember your mother’s muffled screams that night, her face buried into the topsoil after The City’s men discovered shortages in your harvest yield.

Let her go, you remember yelling with such intensity fire erupted in your lungs. Let her go, let her go, a chant you screamed until it was only noise. It was a frenzy in your mind. Nothing could stop you from tearing them apart, you thought. But you could only claw at their stone face armour before they pinned you down, too.

They threatened to take your younger brother to The Harvest as payment but your mother was crafty, hiding him away in a cellar you helped dig out two years ago.

But it is only a matter of time. They will be back for him soon.

You swore that night, and every night since then, that you will find a way out of this nightmare, even if it takes your last breath.

And The Campaign will do just that.

Like others in town, you have only heard rumours of what happens at The Campaign.

They say beautiful winged creatures roam the grounds and pick off combatants to devour whole. Giants hold you by your throat while the ground turns to lava beneath your feet. And one look into the eyes of a monster turns you to stone.

But these are obviously children’s tales, made up to deter others from joining The Campaign, a battle that promises the greatest riches to the survivor.

But you are not deterred. You need to be that survivor.

To pull your family out of poverty.

To protect your brother from The Harvest.

And to make sure you never have to bow down to The City ever again.

The air feels warmer within the confines of the forest.

A wistfulness falls over you as you look around. Even in the darkness you sense familiarity. These trees were good to you. Hiding you from the creatures. Teaching you how to defend yourself. And forcing you to grow up.

You spot a wild deer peeking from behind a tree. A low, dull whisper draws the deer closer.

Animals have always sensed your gentleness. If only they could sense your violence too.

The deer approaches you hesitantly.

You reach into your pocket, hand grazing the pocket knife gifted from your late grandfather. The sharpest blade, he said, is the most merciful.

When the deer nuzzles your side, you pull your hand from your pocket, revealing browse, consisting of a few stems and leaves you had picked from the ground.

A sound of a branch breaking sends the deer off and you replace the browse with the knife, glancing around the vicinity for any natural predators.

Or worse.

You are in the centre of a clearing and mentally kick yourself for being so exposed. Slinking to the side you survey the area. If anyone is around, they hide well.

Moments pass and when nothing happens you covertly snake your way through the forest. If you can leave the forest line, your journey to The Campaign grounds will begin.

You finally see the edge of the tree line. The very beginnings of light filter through the trees under the glow of twilight.

The last few hours passed quite quickly in complete silence. But you couldn’t help feeling an unmistakeable, lurking presence. Shaking off the feeling you pass through the tree line and look out into the lands beyond the forest.

Stretches of mountains line the horizon. This will be a longer journey than you thought.

You pass a quiet town on your way to The Campaign, taking extra care to avoid any and all eye contact. Only a few homes dot the mountain line and you were able to sneak by them mostly undetected.

You had pilfered a copy of the sectors map a few weeks ago and judging from its coordinates you only need to pass a couple more towns to get to The Campaign. The towns are arranged in a star shaped pattern and The Campaign falls at the northern vertex.

The folktales say The Campaign grounds start at the edge of the castle where the mountains kiss the Emerald Sea, a sea of demons littered with the souls of those stupid enough to traverse it. The map seems to confirm it.

You heard the stories. The sea with sparkling waters so clear you could see into its beautiful depths. But with one touch of the water your skin mottled on the spot, the poison finding its way into your veins and luring you in. Before long, you’re diving into the sea of your own volition, letting the creatures who live within swallow you whole.

Another shiver runs down your spine, but you shake it off. You need to stay alert. One step at a time.

You reach into your satchel for your flask and let your knees fall to the dirt, dipping the metallic container into the murky still waters at your feet, headwater ripe and free from the bright orange strings that plague the river near your house. These waters are safe, you reassure yourself.

Reaching into your satchel again, you dig around for some nourishment and groan when you feel the empty edges. Judging by the increasing drops of greenery along the mountain line, you are certain the sea is not too far now. But you need something to keep your energy up.

Slinking down into the limits of what you believe to be Sector 14, you notice patches of field far more arable than yours. A man stands in the distance, blue fabric hanging off his torso.

“Dania! Give me a—“

The man is interrupted by the cries of a woman. He runs towards the sound and you approach closer, ducking behind a barrel.

“Where are you taking him,” the man’s shouts come through and in the distance you see two heavily armed men in black combat gear dragging a boy barely older than your brother away in handcuffs. “Please! We are working overtime. You will get your grain!”

The City men pay no heed until the man throws himself on them. With a swift connection with the back of their gun, the man falls back.

Your mouth falls open. Your legs start to move towards the men without thinking and you make it a few metres before something tugs at your sleeve. Dazed, you look down to see a little girl, barely five or six.

Her eyes are round and frightened, and then a look much older than her age crosses her face. “They will hurt you,” she whispers.

You’re too bewildered to answer, your eyes darting from her face to the scene in the distance, your heart breaking when you see The City men shove the boy into a large black truck.

You want to run after them but the tug at your sleeve holds you back.

Then shouts come from a different direction.

“Briseis! Briseis!”

The girl gestures at a nearby house and you slowly back away to hide behind the barrel as she walks towards the sound of the voice.

An older woman leaves the nearby house and spots the little girl, running to her. The woman’s hands immediately cup the girl’s face and then pull her in for a hug. “You’re ok? You’re ok.” She holds her close to her chest but the little girl pulls away to look at you.

Slowly bringing your forefinger to your mouth, you pray she does not alert the woman to your presence.

Funny enough, you have made it this far mostly undetected. Now, your safety rests in the hands of a girl barely old enough to speak.

But you trust her. Why else would she stop you from running after The City’s men?

It takes you a moment to realize how reckless it would have been to intervene. Surreptitious travel is necessary. No one beyond Sector 10 has ever left their town limits without The City’s express orders. Those beyond Sector 10 are meant for The Harvest. And certainly not expected to join The Campaign.

How The City will allow you to join The Campaign is a matter for future you. Present you just needs to focus on getting there.

The girl’s eyes are still on you but the woman is oblivious, patting her head and speaking to her. The girl nods at her and lets the woman kiss her once more before turning to leave.

The girl is now walking towards you.

You freeze, staring as she approaches, her head twisting behind her momentarily to watch the woman enter the house.

She is more hesitant as she comes closer.

“Your name?”

Bending down, you smile at the child, hands falling to your knees as you nervously glance at the house again.

“My name is… Y/N,” you say, deciding that the truth is better than a lie. “Thank you for saving me.”

She smiles at this. She reaches into her pocket and takes something out of it.

Stunned, you grasp the piece of bread she holds out to you.

“Here,” she says, a seriousness settling into her dark eyes once again. “They said you will be hungry.”

Before you can say anything else, she interjects. “Go now.”

You watch her walk away, turning towards you for a split second to gesture you to leave. You swallow, sliding the bread into your satchel and running back up the side of the mountain.

You don’t have time to think about what the girl said or who they is. Time is running out; you need to make it to The Campaign grounds before the midday bell rings.

You’re very close to The Campaign judging from the map. Just one town left.

There are two options. You can either climb higher through the mountain or you can take a shortcut through Sector 10. You gaze into the sky and notice the sun inching nearer to the midway point.

Sector 10 it is.

You run down the side of the mountain and immediately see the very outlines of the town.

This town feels strange.

The path from the mountain twists into a road leading through trees, revealing large windowed buildings on the other side with signs aglow with the buzz of hope and electricity. Bright stone walkways open before them and people dressed in neon fabric traverse the streets with practised ease.

The colours are dizzying. The promises they hold, moreso. Places like this exist?

You hear honking and bells ringing. Small rickshaws weave through the bodies and you stare in amazement, having only heard about such motorized vehicles in folktales.

The stink of sweat mixed with a sickly sweetness wafts to your nose and you nearly gag. You pull up your cape around your shoulders and continue forward.

A cart nearly hits a man and a commotion breaks out. You approach the scene, hoping you can cut through the confusion unnoticed. A couple of uniformed men approach the scene at the same moment and you steal behind a large sign to avoid detection.

“What happened here?”

As the two involved argue over the occurrence, you take the opportunity to dash past.

“You there!”

The sound comes loud and clear and you know the uniformed men have spotted you. You slide under another boardwalk sign and bolt into an alleyway.

Sprinting through the dark, urine-stained concrete enclosure you trip over an empty bottle, a sharp sting in your shin nearly toppling you over. But it’s the dead end that stops you.

You scan the area. A ten foot high fence ahead. A dumpster to the left. And bricks to the right.

“Halt, Unauthorized,” they shout in the distance. You can see them pulling out their weapons. You don’t have much time.

You back up a few steps then sprint forward, hitting the edge of the dumpster with all your force. It springs you to the top edge of the barbed fence. Your hands ache under the sharp edges but with one leap you’re on top of the roof.

You glance down and notice the two armed men look from the dumpster to the fence and then to you. There is no way you should have been able to make that jump.

They point their weapons at you but you’re already running, sliding over a roof gable and rushing towards the far edge. They’ll be calling in reinforcements. You need to beat them.

From what you’ve memorized of the map, you can cut across the town area and reach the town’s edge in only a few minutes. You should be safe then - well, as safe as you can be now that The City is alerted to an Unauthorized venturing through town.

As the sun bears down angrily, you can’t help wonder if your mother has read your note by now.

“Can we eat yet, Mother?”

Your mother stirs as your brother’s voice grows louder. Eyes still closed, her fingers wraps around a paper in her grasp.

“I will see, son. Give me one—“

She gazes at the note at her fingertips, her chest seizing as she realizes what you intend to do.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

But it’s too late now. You’re almost at The Campaign.

Dear Mother,

When you awake, I will be gone. Please do not try to find me. I will come back to you both very soon. I promise. And I will bring with me riches greater than any we ever imagined.

Please stay safe. And please forgive me if I fail.

With all the love in my heart,

Y/N

“Get the Unauthorized! There!”

You can hear shouts over your shoulder as you dart from one rooftop to another.

Your foot slips and you slide roughly down a set of connected shingles, landing with a thud in a patch of greasy water, the vile liquid stinging your eyes.

Jumping up, you bound through another alleyway, shoulder brushing against the rocky wall. Your boots slap across the dirty puddled road, your pace almost as quick as your hammering heartbeat.

You feel for the map, considering whether you could stop for a few seconds to gather your bearings, but you decide to continue running, catching a left at the end of the road.

You come out into the town’s outer limits and come to an abrupt halt.

In the distance you see dots moving in one direction and you no longer need the map.

Looking to the far left, you see the mountains rise majestically to touch the orange sun now nearing its zenith and you become acutely aware of the impending mid-day bell. The stroke of the end.

“Catch the Unauthorized!”

Glimpses of the armed men appear over your shoulder and you break into a run. Unfortunately, with your muddy rags and bruised legs, you are not quite as fast as you should be.

Joints stiff and skin dripping wet, you narrowly avoid colliding into a group of men. The shouts of the armed men behind you grow louder as you skid to a stop before a glimmering blue sea.

The Emerald Sea.

A being hovers above the sea dressed all in black. The steely cold eyes catch you staring and a feeling of dread reverberates through your body.

“There! There!”

As if snapped out of a trance, you twist your head and catch sight of the entry gates.

But these aren’t ordinary gates.

Metal rises out of the ground in a series of spikes like the bars of a jail cell. Beside the gates stands the ruins of a towering castle, glimmers of a beauty that once held all the riches of the world.

But what catches your attention is not the castle nor the gate itself. It’s the line of heavily armed men dressed all in black, their guns at the ready.

You swallow.

Glancing back you choose the rock over the hard place, and this decision propels you forward, your legs pumping as fast as you can go.

But you aren’t fast enough.

A set of rough hands clasp around your shoulders.

Onlookers stop and crowd around as you struggle against their grasp.

“Stop! I’m here for The Campaign!”

Your words are drowned out in the rumble of the crowd as more onlookers gather around.

A voice booms behind the crowd and it falls silent.

“Who dares disrupt the peace?”

You continue to struggle in the men’s grasp as the crowd parts down the middle.

A very large man emerges between them. His beard is long and white, his face full and round. He has a cloak of gold and boots of silver.

The armed men start to speak, one letting go to provide the man a warrant for your arrest. “Mayor Danaus, we will take away this Unauthorized and leave your tournament to begin without delay. Here is the warrant.”

Mayor Danaus.

The leader of the City. The one who is responsible for your family’s woes, the one who seeks to bring children of poor families to The Harvest where they will waste away for the benefit of the City.

Cold seeps deeper into your bones and you stop struggling, instead letting your knees sag as you contemplate what they will now do to you.

“Enough,” Danaus says, raising one hand in the air. The City men stop speaking. “Rise to your feet, Unauthorized. Why are you here?”

As the hands around your arms loosen, you drop to the ground with a thud. Eyes blinking open, you place one unsteady hand on the wet soil before rising to your feet.

Your voice squeaks out a lot quieter than you’d hoped as you struggle to push words out through your parched throat. “I.. I am here to join the Campaign.”

When you look up at the large man, a gleam catches your eyes. There is someone behind him that sparkles brighter than all the chaos around you.

You blink again, wondering if you are simply imagining things, a mere hallucination like that hovering lady must have been.

“Funny child, do you wish to die?”

“I am not a child.” Those words bounce out a lot more easily.

His laugh bellows out unexpectedly and with it, more laughter joins in chorus. It’s raucous.

You wish to put your hands over your ears, but instead you focus on the wet cloth sticking to your skin. It’s much too loud in your head anyways.

“Alright, not a child, I will consider letting you join if you answer one question,” Danaus says, and you look up at him, watching his chubby cheeks peek out from beneath his beard. “What will you do with the prize money if you survive?”

Laughter breaks out once again, as if such an outcome is so unlikely to obviously be some kind of cruel joke. A mere mortal like you could never even hope to survive.

He, however, eyes you very closely.

Inhaling deeply, you look Danaus in the coal of his irises, defiance budding in your chest.

“I will make sure you and your men can never harm my family again.”

It’s suddenly quiet.

Too quiet.

And then the murmurs start.

Like buzzing bees you can hear words upon words exchanging between mouths as they circle you both.

Insubordination. The City can never let a mere Unauthorized speak to the Mayor with such blatant disregard for his position.

You half expect a slap across your face.

You most definitely did not expect his smile.

“Regardless of your years, you are indeed still a child. Only a child would speak with such insolence.” He claps his hands and the guards grab you again.

You start to struggle but then he speaks. “Take the Unauthorized to the entry gate. Such misplaced bravery needs an outlet,” he says, rubbing his beard, “and I like a show.”

He breaks off a gold bracelet from his belt and grabs your hand, which you attempt to draw back. He is stronger.

You watch as he slips on the bracelet carefully, his eyes never leaving your face. “Don’t forget why you came here.”

The guard’s eyebrow flicks up momentarily but when Danaus turns on his heel to head to the gate, the guard follows, dragging you to the grounds wordlessly.

It’s only when you’ve crossed the threshold that you realize the vastness of the Campaign grounds.

And the emptiness.

As if transformed by the gates, the land is suddenly barren, dotted only by a few straggly weeping willows that seemingly erupt from the ground. At the horizon, a forest looms wide and large, partially hidden by an expanse of fog.

The Emerald Sea mercifully only extends along one border with the ruin of a castle sagging at its edge. The rest of the land seems to be caged in by some type of metal.

Are they keeping you in — or something else?

Your mind quickly turns from the grounds themselves to the bodies traversing them.

They look… strong. And healthy.

Of course that’s not unexpected but standing among them, you realize now just how much famine can put you at a disadvantage. And how different a life these competitors must have lived compared to you.

Why do they even compete?

You watch them stride with the confidence you’ve never even dreamed of, clothed in shiny fabric and even shinier smiles.

They do not need the prize money.

“Uh—”

You feel the wind knocked out of you as you fall to the ground, glancing up to catch a cruel sneer.

“Watch where you’re going, filthy creature.”

It’s suddenly dark as a grotesquely large body eclipses the entire mid-day sun. You’re pretty sure giants no longer exist but this man must be a direct descendant.

His sneer breaks into a laugh as he walks away, muttering something under his breath you can’t even repeat to yourself.

You sit up, dusting off your clothes when a brilliant light in the distance catches your eye. That light transforms into a being as he emerges through a parting in the crowd, with skin the colour of honey, all aglow under a tunic that barely covers his torso. A being so beautiful he must have been sculpted with a practised hand. You look away, scared if you stared long enough you might catch fire.

As you stand, others seem to take notice of this sun incarnate and a buzzing ensues, suddenly consuming the grounds. Words float all around you as the man (for what other word could you use to describe him?) approaches.

“… that’s him…”

“Jungkook…”

“…bestowed with super strength by the heavens…”

You take a step back as he cuts the distance between you in half with only a few strides.

“…wait, isn’t he…?”

“That’s the Mayor’s son…?”

“…he is…”

He is Danaus’ son?

You turn away in disgust, arms crossing over your chest as you consider whether the universe really had to unleash the worst of bad luck for you.

The son of Danaus.

The one who has the strength of the world at his fingertips.

The assumed favourite to win any fight.

And he is surely to win this one too. The City will make sure of it.

The mirage you had built in your mind dissipates with this revelation as you expel both hope and breath.

You have no chance of survival.

Perhaps you could better serve your family another way. Surely, you are better alive…

You start walking towards the gates, turning his name over and over in your mind with despair.

Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook.

Danaus’ son.

You wish terrible things strike him down. For why should a man with so much already at his disposal have this opportunity too.

Greed. Men like him live on greed.

You are merely steps from the gate when you hear a boom. Followed by the staccato vibrations of the carillon.

The mid-day bell.

Loud gears screech and you watch as the large metal gates start to close. Bodies emerge in between and suddenly you hear screaming —is it your own?— as you shove them out of the way, a sea of large barriers of flesh to wade through.

A loud speaker crackles, but you don’t turn. Otherwise you would have seen a slender man adjust himself at the helm, his blood red hair glistening as he smiles at your desperation.

You finally make it past the entrants and launch yourself at the small, quickly disappearing partition left between the metal prongs.

“Welcome participants.” A clear and bright voice emits with a sickly sweetness as your face hits the metal gate. “You were free to come. But that is where your freedom ends. If you’re still breathing, that is. Welcome to the Campaign.”

what did you think? any thoughts would make me infinitely happy. and if you want to be tagged, just let me know :)

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #dystopian au #supernatural au #bts au #52hertz #the campaign #lilo fics

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sugarushsuga · 1 year

Text

Stay there, I’m coming to get you - #83

Genre/Au's: Smut, PWP; Hockey player AU – Friend with benefits(?)

Paring: Taehyung x F Reader

Words count: 2329

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Smut; Fingering; Dirty talk; Public sex; Car sex; Pining;

Synopsis: Taehyung is friends with your best friend’s boyfriend, what doesn’t make you both very close, beside the hang outs and constant teasing each other. But when you need help, he is there to help you, not once but twice in a roll.

Author note: If I didn’t procrastinate I would have it done much sooner. This is Tae’s bday piece. Also is part of my milestone drabble game, the ask for it went to void when Shay’s old blog did it too (Tagging the current one @egocypher) but I never forgot about it.

Masterlist

The ringing tune on your ear makes you anxious, is the third time you call Lolla’s phone, and it rings until voicemail. You know she is enjoying the victory party, but you need her right now and as your best friend it’s her duty to pick up the phone.

Her cheerful voice comes through your ears when you reach her voice mail again. Hanging up you sigh and let your head rest back on the wall. Something you would never do in a different situation. But despair is starting to fill your body and you don’t know what to do. Lolla has been your best friend since middle school, and you both have always looked out for each other, especially after going to college.

You both made a pact that whenever one of you went out on a date, the other had to send a text after the first hour, to know how things were going, if thing are so-so, a call in the next half hour, if things are bad a call right away to give the receiver an excuse to maybe ditch the date or have the friend come.

Today she didn’t send the message, she is celebrating the school’s hockey team classification to the nationals. Her boyfriend is part of the team. You were invited to their celebration, but you’ve already had plans with some other friends. Actually, now you’d say they are just acquaintances, you hoped to become friends.

They are like the cool group from your major, you have a few different classes with most of them. They were the ones who approached you, talking with you here and there, one at a time, in different classes, greeting you whenever you crossed paths on social occasions, until they asked you for lunch and then to hang out at a bar.

You press Lolla’s name again hoping that fourth time's the charm and she’ll pick up the phone.

Maybe you are taking too long in the bathroom, but you don’t really care right now.

The tune rings in your ear for the fifth time, another two times and it’ll reach her voice mail.

“Lolla?” You ask as the line connects and noise comes through the phone.

“No! Y/L/N, Lolla can’t come to the phone right now, she’s having her soul sucked off through her mouth right now!” The cheerful raspy voice, that usually makes your knees weak, says through the line.

“Oh!” You sigh, letting your shoulders drop.

“What is it?” The male voice asks.

“Nothing, I- “

“Wait a second!” He says. You can hear him talking with someone, some excuse me’s and indistinct noises until the voice comes back clearer. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you out with your new friends that are, oh so much cooler than us?”

You mentally curse Lolla for running her mouth about it to Seokjin’s whole team about why you weren’t going out with them after the game. “Yeah,” you roll your eyes.

“So, is it true that you ditched us, to hang with some unknown, much cooler group than us?” He chuckles.

“Hm… I didn’t ditch,” you say trying to explain.

“You just thought they were much cooler than us?” He teases again.

“No, Taehyung. I just…” Your voice fades. You don’t have any excuses; he is right on his teasing, and you just want to find an excuse to leave.

“If you are calling, things aren’t really that nice right now, right?” His voice comes softer, and the teasing is gone.

“I don’t have any excuses to leave, I came here with them. I'm not very familiar with this area and I’m unsure how to leave by myself.” You admit, voice lower as you sigh, remembering you put your own self in this situation.

“Hm, well, lucky for you, here it’s not very fun either. Stay there, I’m coming to get you!” His voice once again has that cheerful tone.

And just like that he is gone.

The line goes mute.

Taking the phone away from your face you see he hung up.

Sighing you get out of the stool and practice a smile on the mirror, you debate yourself if you should try to fix your hair that was sticking to the wall or just leave it. Deciding to leave it you walk out of the bathroom, back to the table where your new “friends” are.

They are talking about the significance of life or something else, you don’t bother enough to join the conversation, just sitting there sipping on your drink waiting for the ice to melt so you can have it for longer. You don’t want to risk getting drunk around people you aren’t close to or very comfortable with.

Twenty minutes later half of the Hockey team burst through the door of the bar with Lolla guiding them.

“Y/n!” She cheers loudly, “what a surprise to find you here!”

She has her phone in hand and Taehyung trailing right behind her looking at her phone over her shoulder. They tracked you. And you thank the gods the day she set up the sharing location app so you both can know where each other are especially when one is out on a bad date. And today you are the one out on a bad date.

“Hey!” You try to sound surprised and not let your happiness show.

“What a coincidence!” Lolla greets your group of friends with a smile.

You look around and there is half a hockey team around the table, Lolla standing with Seokjin by one of your sides and Taehyung on your other side.

“Oh, I think the bar is full.” Jen, one of the new friends, says in a discreet sneer.

“Oh, really?” Lolla responds looking around at the very chill and not full bar. “Yeah, I guess it is. We won’t be able to stay here.”

“But the bar is not full…” Namjoon comments.

Seokjin punches his friend on the shoulder, not even trying to hide it. “Yeah, it’s full, I guess we’ll need to take our victory party home.”

“Yeah, let’s do it guys!” Taehyung says by your side. “Y/n, do you wanna come? It's a free ride home, plus it will be fun, you know all our parties are fun.”

You look in between your friends and your new group of friends and nod. “Yeah, I’m sorry guys, I'll take their ride. We talk on Monday, okay?”

Getting up as you talk, you put the money for your part on the table and follow the hockey players out, Taehyung has your bag on his hand as you follow him.

The rescue is a success, but now you are worried about how you will all make it home. It’s hard to get an Uber or taxi around the bar, you’ve tried to call on through the app many times before calling Lolla.

The group stops by a minivan, it has the Hockey team name on it together with the college name. Jungkook, one of the youngsters of the team unlocks the driver’s door and opens the van. Telling everyone to get in.

He sits at the driver's place, with Yoongi and Namjoon by his side on the front. In the middle roll goes Seokjin, Hoseok and Jimin with Lolla on Seokjin’s lap and her legs over the other guys' laps. Taehyung goes to the back roll and offers you his hand, you follow and ends up sitting in his lap between their gaming gear.

You worry about the safety of all of you, but everyone else seems too hype and happy to care about it. There is loud music, and they all are talking at once as Jungkook starts the car.

Taehyung gently pulls you back against his chest. “I need to put the seat belt around us.” His voice is low and sends a shiver down your back.

Resting back, you let him pull the sit bet around you both, strapping you to him. His hands rest awkwardly on the edge of the seat, surrounded by helmets and other equipment.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, turning towards him. Your nose brushes his jaw and for a reason you don’t know you keep your voice low in a whisper.

“What do you mean?” He asks just as quietly as you did.

Running your hands down his forearms, you cover his hands with yours, to realize he is gripping the seat. “You can touch me, you know?” Pulling his hand, you rest them on your thighs with yours. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Embarrassed?” Taehyung asks without a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“You are getting hard.” You laugh softly, nuzzling his jaw.

“Well, my dick doesn’t really understand that all this wiggling isn’t for our benefit.” He sighs.

Relaxing with his words you make yourself more comfortable against his body. “If it makes you less embarrassed,” you say still holding his hands. “I'm getting wet just by feeling your dick.”

The darkness of the car and the way Taehyung’s breath catches gives you confidence to slip your intertwined hands in between your tights feeling the warmth of it. You part your knees a little more to have more room in between them. You can feel his fingers almost brushing over the wet lacy of your panties. Maybe it is the thriller or the alcohol from the drink you had at the bar or could be the fact Taehyung is basically dicking you through his pants at every bump the car gives, but a new wave of arousal makes you wetter.

Taehyung lets go of one of your hands, letting it travel over your body, smoothing the fabric of your dress, placing his hand flat over your stomach and caressing his way up to your boobs. Gently molding them, fingertip running circles over your covered nipple but not adding quite enough pressure. You whimper his name, and he chuckles in response.

“Taehyung please,” you ask.

“Y/n, this is the nicer way you’ve ever talked to me in all these months since we’ve met.” His voice is hoarse in your ear.

Twisting your body, you manage to turn enough to kiss him, his lips are soft as his hand moves to your throat putting some pressure on it as his tongue explores your mouth. His thumb caressing your damp inner thigh. Your body reacts at its own accord, legs parting further to give his hand more room.

Biting his lower lip, you moan. “Taehyung.”

“God, I’d love to see your face when you moan my name like that.” His breath tickles your neck as he trails kisses over it. “And I’m not embarrassed to feel how wet you are all over your tights.”

“It could be over your hands if you made a move.” You sass.

The confidence comes over the darkness, the music that was turned up. You feel like the car is getting hotter and the air thicker. You don’t know how long the ride is still going to take but you need something to happen, or you won’t ever be able to look at Taehyung’s face again.

“Can you be a good girl and keep it quiet?” Taehyung asks while placing a kiss under your ear. His knees moving your legs further apart.

You eagerly nod in response to his question, but his hand doesn’t move any closer.

“Taehyung, if you don’t know what to do, I can do it myself. You just need to stay still.” You provoke.

“Y/n, someday I’ll fuck this pretty mouth of yours and you won’t be able to be such a brat.” His lips find yours again as his fingers manage to push your panties to the side and two of them slip inside of you at once.

You regret promising to stay quiet as Taehyung shallows your moan. The wet sound coming from his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy is all you can hear, over your friends' laughs and the music. If anyone pays attention, they’ll know what you both are up to in the back seat.

“Your pussy feels so good. Warm, wet and tight.” Your hips roll against Tae’s fingers, you bite your lip hard to keep your moaning quiet as the hot pleasure builds up in your lower stomach.

Letting your head drop back on his shoulder, you want to close your leg at the same time you want more of it. To shy away from him at the same time you want more of Taehyung.

“Are you going to come, all over my hand? Squeeze my finger in your pussy and give me a taste of what it will feel like when I have my dick buried inside of you?” Taehyung parts his knees further, spreading your legs and exposing his finger inside your pussy.

As your moans and whimpers start to get louder, he covers your mouth with his free hand. Making his fingertips brush your spot and his thumb caresses circles over your clit, sending hot pleasure over your whole body, making you tremble and shiver, as your orgasm rips through you, making your eyes roll back, your back arch and your body feel boneless.

Taehyung keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you until the spams are gone and you are just a sweaty mess slumped against his chest. Kissing your forehead, he gently slips his fingers off of you. “Open your mouth baby.”

Confused but too content to question him as you do as told. Parting your lips, Taehyung places his wet fingers on your tongue, and you lick it, feeling the bitter salty taste.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll taste you when we get home, I promise I’ll clean up the mess I made in between your legs.” He says, lips moving against your neck.

“Tae- “

The music cuts off abruptly, and your entire body freezes, eyes widening as Taehyung quickly pulls his fingers from your mouth and unpins your legs so you can close them.

“Does anyone wants McDonald’s?”

100WTSILY - Masterlist

Feedback is always appreciated.

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jessikahathaway · 11 months

Text

“Besties for the Resties?” - JJK (M)

Hello everyone, I hope you’re doing well. I’ve been having a tough time recently, so please try to understand if I’m not always super active here. I want to be and hopefully I can be here but if I slink into the abyss for a bit I apologize. So, I wanted to post this story so you all have something from me.

Please enjoy! Hopefully I will see you soon <3

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genre: BFFs to Lovers (I love a trope pls), Angst, Romance, Smut

Warnings: Reader is orphaned, jk is a lil boob in the beginning (he works on it don’t worry), a slap (deserved one), alcohol/getting drunk, fainting/passing out, Jks antics (they deserve a warning tbh), Yoongi and Hoseok sneaking in for some cameo time (also-Yeri!)-SMUT WARNINGS: Oral (F!receiving), explicit language, unprotected sex (she has an implant but I stg don’t do it-this is fiction), Reader likes jks nips (who doesn’t tho?), kinda mushy and emotional sex, creampie.

Words: 21.2k (Listen I am just as shocked as you-)

Summary: Jungkook had always been your friend since the day you two met as young kids. But what happens when your friendship is put to the test? Can you remain “besties for the resties?” Or will years of friendship be lost in the blink of an eye?

Wait, you’re best friends with the Jeon Jungkook?

Yes.

You mean the most eligible bachelor in the country?

That’s the one, yeah.

Oh my God! You should come to our party next weekend! Of course you’ll have to bring your friend!

He’s been busy recently, I’m sorry.

Can you at least give me his phone number?

This was how a majority of conversations at your college went. People usually found out either because of Twitter, Instagram, or whatever social media was hot right now.

Jungkook could always be found on these apps and usually, one way or another, you’d get roped into it as well.

Jeon Jungkook, 25 and heir to the Jeon billion dollar fashion mogul. But you’ve always known him as Kook, Kookie or Jungkook.

In your younger years, your mother had been a housekeeper and your dad ran a gym. It was an honest living and you were happy.

But when the Jeon’s put out an application for a new housekeeping position your mother couldn’t refuse. She’d applied and gotten the job. So you all moved and thus began your little friendship with the Jeon heir.

Mr. and Mrs. Jeon weren’t the typical ritzy asshole parents. They were welcoming, they were kind and they encouraged Jungkook to play with you, as someone who wasn’t a ‘spoiled brat’, as they liked to say.

Jungkook’s other friends tended to be a little more… well… over zealous.

Jimin was heir to a jewelry empire and Seokjin’s family were all celebrity chefs and Namjoon even had deep pockets due to his family being smart investors. Mainly in the Jeon brand but, it was good money.

They all were nice enough, never questioning Jungkook’s friendship with you-even building some of their own.

But at the end of the day, you and Jungkook were thick as thieves.

You weren’t as outgoing as they were, you liked staying home and reading or cleaning, maybe doing a little room decorating. But Jungkook loved to come over to your small apartment, he loved washing the dishes after you both cooked dinner. He liked doing the laundry and folding it nicely.

But as of recently, he hadn’t been able to come over nearly as much. With a new merger between The Jeon Label and some other foreign brand he’d been stuck at work for what felt like weeks.

He’d still text you and try to call if he could but, it still stung just a bit.

To be reminded of your place.

You were just hoping today he could make an exception.

You sat in your living room, trying not to cry as you looked at your phone.

Kook ❤️: still at work. Srry, I probs can’t make it tonight 😩

You: not at all?

Kook ❤️: it’s stupid busy here, even the interns are still here 🥲

You: bummer.

He’d really forgotten huh?

All these years and he’d forgotten the anniversary of your parents death. The one day out of the year you asked him to be with you.

All of his friends had messaged you their condolences, how they’re thinking of you.

But you only wanted one person here with you…

The one you cared about more than anything.

And he couldn’t make it…

You’d long understood that Jungkook was oblivious to your feelings. He saw you as the quiet friend, his sweet Y/N that he needs to protect. But, never as anything more.

It did sting when you’d see his Instagram flooded with influencers who were much prettier than you, who had more money, who could handle the stress of his job and title.

But you?

You set your phone down and sighed. Even a phone call would’ve been nice. But he’d forgotten, you tried not to be upset. But the ache in your chest made you mad.

Ring ring… ring ring…

You picked up the phone quickly. “Hello?”

“Hey Y/N,” a gruff voice sighed over the receiver.

“Oh… hey Yoongi,” you sighed.

Your history tutor made a small scoff. “Alright, don’t sound too disappointed,” he complained.

“No-I’m not! It’s just…”

“You were hoping for a call from Jeon huh?”

Were you that obvious?

“Maybe…”

“Has he not called you yet?” Yoongi wondered aloud.

“No, he’s stuck at the office apparently,” you sighed, biting your lip.

“He couldn’t even like… call you or some shit?” Yoongi asked, sounding irritated on your behalf.

“Well-there’s this big merger happening and-”

“Whoa whoa, no. Y/N, no. You never ask him for anything. You never get mad at him, you make excuses for him but not today man. Not today of all days. Did he forget?”

A small hiccup came from your mouth.

“I think so…”

“Oh Y/N…”

His voice was soft, something unusual for the typically gruff and aloof man.

It made the damn burst.

“I just wanted him here with me… I-Is that asking too much? On the day my world shattered? The day I lost everything? Yoongi even his parents called me this morning! Jimin, Namjoon and even Jin found time in their busy schedules to at least send me a sweet message! I-I’m so hurt…” you cried.

“Tell him that,” Yoongi offered.

“I don’t want to tell him… he should’ve remembered, he should know what today is…”

The day your parents were involved in a horrific car crash. Ripping them from this world and your arms so brutally.

“He should. It's not right that he forgot,” Yoongi sighed. “Listen, I gotta go but… I’m so sorry for your loss, and maybe we can go get coffee soon to make you feel better, hm?��

You sniffled and nodded, wiping your eyes.

“Sounds good Yoongi, thanks,” you sighed before hanging up.

You laid on the couch, curling up. You didn’t even bother to cover the dinner you’d made up.

You were too sick to eat it now.

—

Jungkook was furiously going over these numbers.

Nothing made any fucking sense at this point.

He’d been there since six that morning and it was nearing ten o’clock. He’d tried talking to you to get his mind off it, but you weren’t answering. Maybe you’d gone to bed early, you did mention there was a test coming up you were cramming for.

His eyes were tired.

His back hurt.

A knock came to his office door as his father stepped in, a gentle yet tired look on his face.

“Hey son,” he smiled, walking in.

Jungkook welcomed the distraction.

“Hey dad,” he beamed, standing up.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he said, looking at Jungkook’s mess of a desk. Jungkook blushed softly and rubbed his neck.

“Just got a few more things to go over,” he shrugged. “Then I’m going home to pass out.”

“Ah, so you must’ve already called Y/N then? Usually you two get together today,” he said, looking at a few papers Jungkook had on his desk.

“Um… no? Was I supposed to?” He asked, rubbing his eyes, exhaustion creeping over him.

Jungkook’s father looked shocked and worst of all-disappointed.

“Oh Jungkook, don’t tell me you forgot…”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. “Forgot what? It’s… it’s not her birthday! It’s the dead of summer!”

“Jeon Jungkook, that girl is your best friend, and you forgot the anniversary of her parents passing?!”

Jungkook’s blood ran cold.

“N-No… I-It’s not until…” his eyes narrowed on the calendar on his desk. “Oh shit…”

“I taught you better…”

“But this merger and-and the company-”

“If this company didn’t exist… if our wealth was liquidated tomorrow half of your friends wouldn’t be there anymore son… but I know for sure one would always be there, no matter what,” Mr. Jeon sighed. “Go, apologize. She deserves that much. I’ll finish up here.”

Jungkook nodded, grabbing his jacket and keys and rushing down the steps.

Fuck!

How could I forget? He cried internally as he rushed to his car.

He tried to call you, but the call went right to voicemail.

His car wove through the streets. He stopped at some twenty-four hour grocery store and got some soft pink flowers that he hoped would at least ease your anger at him.

When he arrived at your small apartment his heart was hammering in his chest. He knocked, and waited. Knocked again. Still no answer.

“Y-Y/N?” He called.

No response.

“Please open the door?”

Still nothing.

He frowned and tried the door, to his surprise it was open. He walked in, looking around for you. But his stomach dropped when he saw a nice dinner laid out on the table. A few of his favorites and yours put together with care.

This must be why you’d wanted to make dinner plans with him… he’s so fucking stupid.

He walked into the living room and his heart stopped. You were on the couch, face puffy and swollen from crying.

He felt like an ass.

His best friend needed him… and he wasn’t here.

He made his way to the couch, noticing you were dressed nice. You’d done your nails, hair and he could see you’d done your makeup as well but it was mostly gone now.

“Oh Y/N…” he sat on his knees in front of you, running his fingers through your hair and trying not to cry. He didn’t deserve to cry now… you were the one he’d disappointed, you were the one hurting.

Slowly, your eyes flickered open and took in his appearance.

“Kook?”

Your head hurt from crying, you could feel the smeared mascara and eyeliner coating your eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so-”

You didn’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into your arms. Hiding your face in his neck like you had since you were little.

“You’re here…”

His hands ran up your back as he clung to you.

“I’m here bug, right here,” he said, using your childhood nickname that he only used when you were mad.

“I thought you’d forgotten…”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “I did forget, dad… dad reminded me and I rushed to get here. I’m so sorry, bug. I’ve been so stressed from work but you-you’re more important,” he said firmly.

“You’re here now… that’s all I care about,” you smiled into his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve been here earlier… you made dinner and-and you dressed up so nice, I feel like such an ass Y/N,” he frowned, holding your head.

“You should,” you said, pulling back and wiping your tears. “But you came, you apologized, I accept those. So don’t feel guilty, you can make it up to me.”

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! Whatever you want, I’ll do it!”

You smiled. “Okay, redo then. Next week, there’s a cute little boba place opening and I want to go, they’re supposed to have good prices too!”

“That’s all you want? Cause I can get us anywhere Y/N, anything. Nothing is off the table,” he said.

“Then boba,” you smiled. “That’s what I want, Jungkook, boba and time with you.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but mirror your grin. He nodded, kissing your head and holding you close.

“Then we’ll do boba.”

—

The week passed by uneventfully. You had your tests and such, Yoongi was a little scolding when you told him you’d forgiven Jungkook so quickly.

“He needs to know he hurt you, Y/N, or he’s just going to keep doing it.”

You shook your head. “No Yoongi, he apologized and I know he felt awful-”

“He should’ve, what he did was wrong,” Yoongi pointed out.

The two of you were sitting in the cafe, drinking watered down cheap coffee, but you were happy.

Jungkook hadn’t mentioned the boba place since that night but you knew he was busy. It was alright, you’d texted him the address and time so you two could meet up there.

“Y/N, when are you going to tell him?” Yoongi asked, sipping on his decaf americano. Utter sin, decaffeinated coffee.

“T-Tell him what?”

Yoongi raised a brow. “You’re such a shit liar,” he sighed.

“I can’t tell him Yoongi, I’m just his childhood friend, he probably hasn’t even noticed I’ve grown boobs,” you sighed.

“He’d be dumb not to notice those cause damn-”

You swatted him, trying not to blush. “Stop that, don’t ogle me in public.

“Are you inviting me to ogle in private?” He teased.

“In your dreams,” you snickered.

Yoongi nodded. “Sometimes.”

“I can’t just tell him I love him Yoongi! The last girlfriend he had was so manipulative and only wanted him for his money, he’s been defensive about dating since… I-I don’t want him to feel pressured around me like that and I’m going to be the cliche. I don’t want to ruin what we have, what if he says no?” You frowned.

“Then he’s an idiot and I’ll swoop in and take you for myself,” Yoongi shrugged.

You narrowed your eyes at him, flicking his nose and watching him pout.

Yoongi had made it clear he was interested in you before. But when you’d confessed that you were in love with your best friend, he’d politely backed off. Although he still made it known he was attracted to you.

“There will be no swooping in, cause I’m not saying anything,” you frowned.

“You should tell him, Y/N, cause you keep thinking of the negatives. What if Jungkook is also in love with you? What if he says he loves you and wants to be with you as well? Isn’t that worth the risk?”

Your heart hammered in your chest.

I love you, Y/N…

God you wanted to hear those words so fucking bad…

A text came through your phone, a soft smile gracing your features.

“Ew, you got all heart eyes on me… is it him?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook had sent you a picture of Bam, playing with the new toy you’d gotten him.

Kook ❤️: Bam loves his new toy 🥺

You: of course he does, mother knows best.

You and Jungkook had called you Bam’s mom since the second Jungkook brought him home.

Kook ❤️: he needs his mom, he’s being a brat today.

You: 🙄 Jungkook every time he acts up I can’t play bad cop.

Kook ❤️: why tho???? Save me… he’s bouncing off the fucking walls, and he’s not listening to meeeee.

You: make him listen???

Kook ❤️: our son misses his mom, come onnnn come see him

You: I stg

Kook ❤️: is that a yes?

You: I’ll be over in 15, tell Bam mommy’s coming.

Kook ❤️: yes dear!!

You rolled your eyes and sipped down the rest of your coffee.

Yoongi raised a brow at your conversation you’d left up on your phone.

“You two share custody of a mammoth dog?” He asked.

“No, Bam is Jungkook’s dog, he just likes to call me the mother of his dog,” you sighed.

Yoongi’s face contorted. “That’s… that’s a little intimate don’t you think?”

“It’s a dog not a baby,” you shrugged, standing up.

“Not yet,” he warned.

You scoffed and thanked him for the little coffee date before heading out and towards the subway.

Jungkook’s penthouse was rather far.

You approached his building calmly, they all knew you here. You came by frequently.

“Ah, Miss Y/N! Mr. Jeon said to expect you,” Minwoo the doorman said, smiling.

“Thanks Minwoo! I’ll be heading up,” you smiled back.

He nodded, calling the elevator for you.

You stepped in and held your breath. Elevators had always made you nervous. But thankfully this one was a generally quick ride.

You got up to Jungkook’s floor and walked in, Bam quickly running to you after you entered.

“Hi my baby!” You smiled, kissing his head as he wiggled his butt excitedly.

“Ah! Mommy’s home!” Jungkook said, coming to greet you.

“Yes yes, now why did I have to cut my outing short? Hmm? Bammy, have you been a bad boy for daddy?” You narrowed your eyes and Bam shrunk.

“He shit on the rug, tore up my brand new couch and got into the cupboard and ate all my instant ramen!” He complained.

“Well the last one is your fault, don’t put anything low unless you get a lock on the cupboard idiot,” you poked his cheek. “But the pooping and tearing stuff up isn’t okay Bam,” you said in your best firm tone.

Bam seemed to pout at being told off.

“Now, you need to be good for your daddy huh? Need to behave so daddy can do his work yeah? Otherwise mommy can’t bring you anymore toys,” you scolded.

Bam came closer and nudged his nose to your hand. You sighed and patted his head, scratching his ears and kissing his nose.

“Go play,” you said, patting his butt.

He did just that, finding your toy and throwing it around.

Jungkook sighed behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Magic, I swear to you. Every time I scold him he just nips at my fingers! Little brat,” he growled.

You shook your head.

“He’s a puppy, Kook, he’s going to get into trouble, but be firm and reward good behavior. Correct the bad, it’ll all work out. He’s got a great temperament and a good daddy,” you smiled.

“Aw, you’re so sweet to me,” he smiled.

“Well, I try,” you chuckled.

You two migrated to the couch, and you could see where Bam had chewed on it, earning the pup a sharp glare from you. Jungkook just covered it with a blanket and put on a TV show for you to watch.

You relaxed, being in Jungkook’s presence was always calming, had been since you were little.

He’d always been kind, soft with you and tender. But he also pushed you to get out of your comfort zone every once in a while and that was good too.

You made him feel human. Like he wasn’t this big name on a billboard, he was just Jungkook. Not Mr. Jeon, not the heir to a multibillion dollar company… just Jungkook.

And he loved that.

“God I’m tired,” you complained, rubbing your eyes.

Jungkook looked at the clock. It was late, you two had been chatting about random stuff most of the night.

“It’s almost eleven,” he frowned. “I’ve got to get up early…”

“Oh yeah? What for?”

“Marriage meeting,” he sighed.

You damn near choked.

“A-A what?” You squeaked.

“Marriage meeting, mom and dad want me to meet this girl from the states,” he frowned. “She’s supposed to be really nice and her dad is interested in running our brand in with his. He owns luxury department store and malls throughout North America and Europe, it’s a big deal and could be super good for the company.”

Your throat went dry.

“I-I thought your parents didn’t care who you marry?” You asked softly.

“Ah, they don’t really. But I’m getting older and if it’ll help the company I don’t see anything wrong with it… at least I know she won’t be in it for the money. She’s got plenty of her own,” he sighed.

Your stomach clenched painfully.

“I-I see,” you bit your lip.

“Her name is Elsie,” he said.

“Cool…”

He rubbed his eyes, blinking slowly. “I think I’m going to bed, you can stay if you want. Or call Naomi, she can take you home as well. Don’t take public transport now, it’s way too late,” he said, placing a gentle kiss to your head. “Night bug!”

You whispered what you thought was a good night but you weren’t sure.

Jungkook…

Married?

Oh God…

—

You hadn’t really spoken to Jungkook much in the days leading up to the boba outing.

But Yoongi was adamant you needed to tell him about your feelings. And soon.

“Yoongi, I don’t think it’s a good idea, especially with him meeting Elsie and… and everything with the company I don’t want to make him upset,” you frowned.

“But him hurting you is okay? Y/N, your feelings are just as important as his and he’s not seeing that. You need to say something! Or you’re really going to regret it,” he frowned.

You were getting ready for your little redo with Jungkook and Yoongi had come over for his notes and decided to stay and chat.

You put on a cute little white tennis skirt with white stockings and sneakers, you had your simple sky blue t-shirt on and were putting on your earrings.

“I’ll tell him eventually but-I can’t do it right now,” you reasoned. “It’s not the right time.”

“Then when is the right time, Y/N? If you keep making excuses and putting it off you’re only going to suffer more,” he sighed.

“I can wait a little longer,” you said.

“If you say so,” Yoongi said, done with arguing for now.

“How do I look?” You asked, turning and smoothing your skirt down.

Yoongi gave a soft smile. “You look great, do you want me to drop you off?”

“Sure!”

You'd shown up a little earlier than your agreed time but it didn’t matter, you smiled and waited, texting Jungkook that you were here.

An hour passed.

Then two.

Three…

No Jungkook.

You tried calling him.

You tried texting his friends, only Jin answered and he said he hadn’t spoken to him recently enough.

He asked if you were okay. You bluffed, telling him it wasn’t far from your house so if nothing else you’d get home quickly.

Why wasn’t he here…?

“Hey Jungkook…” you trailed off leaving your third voicemail. “Um… it's me again, the boba place closes in an hour and… and you’re still not here. I’m worried, are you okay? Call me please…”

Clouds rolled over the city, as the boba place closed.

Your heart was stomped into dust.

You'd waited six hours and he never showed, didn’t even text you.

He begged for a redo, a chance to make it up to you and… and he does this?

Your tears rolled down your face as the rain started. You couldn’t believe he’d stood you up.

How could he just forget about you like that?

“Fucking stupid… I’m so fucking stupid,” you cried.

You tried to call Yoongi but your phone died. With a sigh you started to walk. It was maybe two miles back to your apartment and the rain didn’t look like it was going to let up anytime soon.

You didn’t even have an umbrella to cover you up.

You shivered as you walked down the street, it was getting cold for a summer night.

As you walked your legs cramped from the chill and the soaked clothes clinging to you.

“Y/N?” A voice called from the road. You turned your head and saw Mr. Jeon getting out of his car and hurrying over to you.

“M-Mr. Jeon,” you stammered out.

“Oh sweetheart what happened?! Why are you out here in the rain?” He said, taking off his jacket and covering you.

You broke down in tears all over again. Mr. Jeon ushered you to the car, turning up the heat.

His driver was waiting patiently, giving you a smile.

“Tell me what happened, why are you soaked?”

“J-Jungkook and I were supposed to… to go to the new boba shop downtown and… and I waited for six hours and he never showed,” you cried, shivering in his seat.

Mr. Jeon’s face turned furious.

“He did what?”

“W-When he forgot my parents' anniversary… h-he wanted to make it up to me so… so I asked him to meet me there for the opening so we could… just hang out and… I tried to call him… text him… he didn’t answer,” you hiccuped.

Mr. Jeon growled in frustration.

“Edward, take us to my son’s apartment please, I’d like to have a word with him,” Mr. Jeon said coldly.

“No, Mr. Jeon please it’s not-”

“If my son is going to treat a woman like this, he is not ready to take over the company. He needs to learn a valuable lesson. And he needs to see what happens when he hurts people,” he stated firmly.

You were quiet for the rest of the car ride.

Mr. Jeon took you up the elevator, rubbing your shoulders to try and get you to warm up.

He didn’t even knock on the door, he barged in and hollered loudly. “Jeon Jungkook, you come here this instant!”

It was late, so Jungkook stumbled out of his room in his sweatpants.

He’d been sleeping?

“Dad? What are you-Y/N? Why are you wet?”

Mr. Jeon slammed his fist on the door to shut it behind you so hard it made you jump.

“Kitchen. Now.”

Jungkook swallowed in fear, but nodded, heading towards the kitchen as his father escorted you and sat you down. Jungkook looked at you in confusion.

“Jeon Jungkook tell me right now why I found Y/N walking through the streets alone and soaked!”

“I don’t know dad! I have no idea why she was out there!”

“You don’t remember?” You squeaked out. “Y-You forgot me? Again?”

Jungkook’s face turned frustrated for a moment. “Y/N, why were you out in the rain?”

“I was waiting…”

“Jungkook, do you remember what you asked for? Do you remember that you forgot her parents' anniversary?”

“I apologized and I asked…” recognition and horror crossed his face. “Oh fuck… the boba shop… I swore I put it on my calendar! I-It wasn’t today originally was it-”

“Jungkook! That doesn’t matter,” Mr. Jeon rubbed his face in frustration.

“Jungkook, she waited for you for six hours! Where were you!?”

“Elsie and I got lunch and then she came over for a while and… and then we um,” he rubbed his neck. And then you saw it. A dark purple mark on his neck.

They’d slept together.

You wanted to throw up.

“Jungkook, I raised you better than this! You know better than to treat the people you claim to care about this way! How dare you leave her soaked and waiting in the rain for you! Do you know how dangerous it could’ve been? She was walking home! In the fucking rain and that damn shop was nearly three miles away from her apartment!” He screamed.

You shrunk at the realization.

He didn’t care…

The second a pretty girl comes along, he forgets all about you. Are you that boring? That uninteresting?

Bam came over and set his head on your lap, whimpering at the loud noises.

“Dad I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me before you say sorry to her,” he snarled.

Jungkook frowned. “I’m sorry Y/N,” he said softly.

“Jungkook I-”

“I’m taking you off the merger,” Mr. Jeon declared.

Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock. “B-But dad I’ve worked so hard!”

“You’ve forgotten, Jungkook. You’ve forgotten about what really matters. All the money in the world couldn’t buy you love… it can’t buy you happiness. Money can’t fix what you’ve done wrong,” Mr. Jeon said.

“But I’ve worked so long to do this! You can’t just take me off of it! The board will think I’m incompetent!”

“And maybe you are!”

The room got quiet.

“I should’ve known you were too young to take over, you’re not ready yet. I’ve told you time and time again that at the end of the day the company isn’t what’s important. Your family, your friends Jungkook, that’s what’s important!” He yelled.

“I know that!”

“Clearly you don’t! Have you even checked your phone?”

Jungkook was about to argue when he saw your face, you couldn’t even look at him.

“No, I haven’t,” he said.

Mr. Jeon looked at you.

“I called you…” you whispered. “I thought something bad had happened, because I believed you couldn’t forget me… not again,” you sniffled.

“Bug…”

“Don’t…” you begged. “Please don’t.”

You really tried to tamp down the anger, the fury. There were so many good memories with Jungkook.

But recently, not only his behavior but the behavior of people who wanted something from you just because he was your friend.

You’d never felt so utterly used.

“Do I really not matter enough to you? All these years of being your best friend and… and this is how you treat me? I know you’re busy, I know work is hard. But school is hard too, people aren’t nice all the time and sometimes I wish I could call you, but I don’t want to bother you at work,” You cried harder.

“Y/N please-”

“I called everyone trying to find you! I texted you! I called you, I even called your office! I was so petrified, I didn’t want to interrupt but they told me you were out! Why, Jungkook? Why… why don’t I matter to you at all?”

“That’s not true!” He cried.

“Then how could you forget me?! Again!” You screamed.

Mr. Jeon looked down.

Jungkook was stunned.

You never screamed at him, you didn’t scream at anybody. You were always so soft, so gentle and tender. You were understanding.

But Jungkook hurt you.

More than once.

And you were tired of it.

“I’m so sick of the person I love more than anything, hurting me like this… if this is how you’re going to treat me then I don’t want to be your friend anymore,” you said, voice breaking.

“No, Y/N, please! Please don’t do this, I love you so much, bug, please!” He said, tears in his own eyes.

“I love you too, but it’s not enough, Jungkook… I’m never going to be enough for you, and I’m tired of trying. Good luck with Elsie, good luck with being a billionaire, and good luck with the company… it’s obviously important,” you said, standing on shaky legs. “Mr. Jeon, I’d like to go home now… will you please take me?”

“No! Let me take you, let’s talk about this bug, don’t do this!” Jungkook sobbed, standing up.

“I’ll take you home, Y/N, come along,” Mr. Jeon said.

“Goodbye, Jeon… hope it’s worth it,” you said, turning to leave.

Jungkook scrambled to grab you, to plead to beg, whatever it took for you not to walk out that door. His chest ached at the sight of your swollen eyes and soaked frame.

He fucked up. He knew that, but if he could just explain…

Just as he was about to grab your wrist you turned and slapped him.

Hard.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Please, Jungkook. Just let me go.”

Jungkook froze, his cheek stinging but he could hardly feel it over the agonizing pain that flared in his chest.

The door shut firmly, leaving Jungkook in his apartment.

He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

He was a fool…

And he’d lost you for good.

—

You called Yoongi a few days later.

“He forgot me,” you said softly.

“He what?”

“He never showed up that night… his dad found me walking home in the rain,” you explained.

“That motherfucker…” Yoongi growled.

“I told him I was done. I’m not going to see him anymore and I’m no longer his friend,” you said, your heart breaking with each word.

“Is that what you want?” Yoongi asked.

“Yes…?” You said it like it was a question.

“Well, it’s still fresh and it still hurts. Give yourself time to heal, maybe you can be friends again. He’s important to you,” Yoongi offered.

“But I’m not important to him,” you said, a few tears pricking your eyes.

“I wouldn’t say that either,” he sighed.

“Huh?”

“You two have been friends for over thirteen years Y/N, he cares about you. You can’t be friends with someone that long and not care about them,” he said.

“But he forgot-”

“I understand that, he was a shitty friend recently. And you gave him a chance and he didn’t follow through, but thirteen years is a long time. It’s hard to wipe the slate clean and walk away from that. I’m not saying you have to forgive him now, or ever. Forgiveness is mainly for you, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more happy than when he’s around,” he said gently.

“I-I know…” you whispered.

“You never told him you love him, you should do that,” Yoongi stated.

“I can’t… not now,” you frowned.

“Maybe not now… maybe not even in a few months. But, if those feelings don’t go away? You need to say something to him,” he said firmly.

“Okay, I’ll… I’ll think about it,” you sighed.

“Hey, it’s your life and relationships, you do what you think is best but… that kind of love isn’t something you should ever-ever walk away from, no matter what,” he said.

“I’ll think about it, Yoongi, thank you,” you said.

You said goodbye and stared out your window.

Would you ever be able to forgive him?

—

Months passed and Jungkook stayed far away from you.

Just as you asked.

No texts.

No calls.

Nothing.

But even after four months apart, you still couldn’t delete his number from your phone.

You’d made a friend with a girl from your anthropology class. Yeri.

She’s super sweet and bubbly, kind and always down for some fun.

It was nice having a female friend. You were usually surrounded by men.

“Oooh, I like this one!” She said with a smile, holding up your emerald green cocktail dress Jungkook had gifted you on your 21st birthday.

Seeing it hurt your heart, but you knew you’d look good in it.

Jungkook had always had impeccable taste.

“Yeah, I like it,” you smiled.

You two were going to the club tonight, and you wanted to get smashed. News of Jungkook’s engagement to Elsie had been swarming the tabloids. Your heart ached at the thought of him being with someone else.

But you’d washed your hands clean of him.

Or so you thought...

Yeri and you arrived at the club a little after eleven.

The party was just getting started.

She went over and got you two some drinks, starting the night off with assessing your possible conquests. Yeri was bold and unashamed of her flirtatious nature. She’d never seen you go after any man! Even though you weren’t lacking attention from the opposite sex.

You just knew that you still weren’t over Jungkook. You missed him so much, your finger had hovered over his number so many times. His contact photo always made your chest ache. A cute selfie of him that he’d taken when he got you this phone for your birthday last year. It was nearing that time again. Fall was in full swing and winter was sure to follow.

Yeri pouted when you spaced out.

“Y/N? Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been kinda down today?”

You had been.

It was the first year you hadn’t spent Jungkook’s birthday with him since you’d been friends and you heard from Jimin that he hadn’t done the usual big bash. Just something small and lowkey. Not his style at all. Jin said he didn’t even really want to celebrate this year, he’d been working so much and he didn’t care if anyone remembered his birthday.

You almost broke that night.

You had been sleeping when your reminder pinged at 12:00 AM on September first.

JUNGKOOKIE’S 25TH BIRTHDAY!!!!!

You’d managed to fall back asleep after sobbing in your pillows, but the ache still remained. You even had his birthday present wrapped in your closet. You’d saved up some money to get him a nice silver bracelet.

You got a cute engraving on it and everything.

JK + Y/N BFFs <3

But, time changes. It’s ever flowing and it’s difficult to comprehend.

However, you hoped he was still having fun. Still able to smile brightly, to laugh with his whole chest, to enjoy food that makes him happy, to-

“Y/N? Hey!”

You startled, realizing you’d been day dreaming...

Again.

“I’ll just be your wingwoman okay?” You said.

Yeri frowned but nodded. “Alright babe, I’m thinking of talking to that guy over there,” she pointed to an attractive man on the dance floor. He was moving his hips to the beat in a tantalizing fashion and you knew immediately why Yeri would love to take him home.

“Alright, game on,” you said, downing your drink.

The night progressed and Yeri discovered this Hoseok guy was quite the charmer.

They danced and hit it off rather well, and you watched from the bar as you drank yourself stupid...

It was nearing two in the morning and you were wasted.

Yeri and Hoseok were heading out but she was insistent that she find a ride for you before she left.

“Yerrrriiiii~” you cooed, leaning against her heavily.

“God you’re so drunk,” Yeri whined, trying to keep you upright.

“Should we call her a cab?” Hoseok asked, worried.

“No… if I can’t ride with her then I’m worried she might get hurt… Y/N, sweetie, give me your phone okay?” She asked.

You didn’t object, handing it over to her.

She scrolled through and found your emergency contacts.

“Kook with a red heart emoji?” She wondered aloud.

“Probably her boyfriend or something, try it. If they don’t answer we can figure something else out,” Hoseok said, attempting to get you to drink some water.

“Right, yeah,” Yeri hit the call button.

It rang a few times before a tired voice answered.

“Hello?” It asked.

“Hi… um… is this Kook?” Yeri asked.

“Who’s calling?” His voice sounded annoyed.

“I’m sorry, my name is Yeri. I’m a friend of Y/N’s? She’s super drunk at a bar and I’m worried about her getting home safe,” she said.

“Y/N…?” The voice sounded weak, like he was ready to cry.

“I-Is this a bad time? I can just call her a cab, but-”

“No! No, I’ll come and get her, where are you?” He asked.

“Nightshade club, on Latner Street? Know the one?”

“I do, I’ll be there in five minutes,” he said before hanging up.

Yeri helped you to a chair, trying to keep you from falling over.

“Poor Y/N, I shouldn't have let you drink this much,” she frowned.

“Sss’otayyy, Yerrrriiii!” You slurred.

“Someone’s coming to get you okay? He’ll be here soon, alright?”

You nodded your head, mind spinning.

Shortly, a nice black car rolled up to the club.

A very handsome young man approached Yeri, who was still struggling to keep you from the bar.

“Y/N! Don’t climb up there!” She cried.

“Who are you?” Hoseok asked, moving to grab the young man in case he got too close to the two ladies.

“I’m Jungkook, I’m here for her,” he nodded at you, trying to climb the bar.

“Y/N! Stop!” Yeri yelled.

“Dunnn wannnaaaaa~”

Jungkook frowned, he’d rarely seen you this drunk. You must be upset...

Even on your 21st birthday you'd kept it pretty classy.

“Bug, it’s time to get down, you need to go home before you get hurt,” Jungkook said, softly.

Your head turned to see him. Your eyes sparkled when you realized he was there.

“Kook!” You cried, clambering down from the bar and stumbling over to him. “You’re here…” you trailed off, hands smoothing over his chest. Jungkook tried to keep himself from crying into your arms as he turned you to your friends. Or at the very least, the people who’d kept you alive for the night.

“Yes, I’m here. Say goodbye to your friends and thank them,” he said, holding your shoulder to steady you.

“Bye Yeri! Bye Hoseok! Thanks!” You said.

Jungkook sighed and was glad you weren’t slapping him five ways to Sunday.

“Come on bug, time to go home,” he said.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Carry me?” You asked, lips pouting.

Jungkook’s heart stammered in his chest. Being away from you for so long had made him weak. He’d usually tease you for being so clingy when drunk, but right now he couldn’t say no. He picked you up easily, covering you with his arms.

Yeri moved and placed her hand on his shoulder. Jungkook turned back and looked at her with confusion.

Her eyes were stern. “I shared her location with me earlier, you better take care of her. If she’s not home in twenty minutes I’m calling the cops,” she warned.

Jungkook moved to say something when you peeped up from his arms, looking over his shoulder happily.

“Issokay Yeri! Kook won’t hurt me, he loves me,” you smiled, obviously inebriated. Your cheek was squished against his shoulder as your eyes blinked slowly in your friend’s direction. Jungkook’s chest tightened at your statement.

God... if you only knew how true that was...

Yeri gave Jungkook a skeptical look before nodding.

“She’s been sad lately, I don’t think I’ve seen her this excited since I met her,” she said good naturedly. “You seem to make her happy, but please keep her safe.”

Jungkook nodded. “I won’t let anything happen to her,” he promised.

Not even myself...

He carried you to the car, getting you buckled in and getting himself situated before taking off.

You were pretty quiet throughout the whole ride. He’d even thought you’d fallen asleep at one point.

But when he pulled up to your apartment you were still awake, blinking at him as he undid your seatbelt.

“I missed you, Kook,” you sighed, trying to stand up but only succeeding in falling into his arms.

Jungkook quickly grabbed you, holding you upright. Your eyes were bright in the street light next to your apartment. God... He’d missed you so much, he’d missed your big eyes and how expressive you were.

But he knew he shouldn’t enjoy this...

You probably wouldn’t even remember he’d been there when you woke up.

“I missed you too, Y/N,” he said softly, lifting you into the air and carrying you to your apartment. “Keys? Bug? Where are your keys,” he asked, brushing your hair away from your face.

“Purse...” you mumbled, already getting sleepy on him.

He fiddled with your purse for just a second before grabbing the key ring. His heart stopped when he saw you still had the one he’d purchased for you. Cute little cherry blossoms in resin. He knew how much you loved the flowers, he’d even planned to take you to Japan the following year so you could see them like in all those animes the two of you watched.

But he’d fucked that up.

He’d fucked it up so, so badly and now you’d never go see the cherry blossoms with him... He’d never get to sleep on your couch with you again after a marvel marathon. He couldn’t text you when Bam was being a brat... Ever since that night in his apartment Bam had been a menace to Jungkook. Nipping at him and even growling sometimes.

And his dog missed you too.

Bam wouldn’t play with the toy you’d given him anymore, he just held it in his mouth and laid by the door sometimes. It broke Jungkook’s heart to see his dog missing you too. Because Jungkook wasn’t doing much better.

He’d sit in his office and stare at the picture of you two after you graduated highschool. He’d been so proud of you. And you were just happy to start your life...

And now?

Here you were, getting black out drunk because he’d been a shitty friend. He’d broken your heart and he’d never be able to forgive himself for that.

“Find it?” you asked, voice soft and breathy.

Jungkook jolted before nodding, quickly getting the door unlocked and you inside. He set your feet on the floor as he tried to shut the door behind him. But you were already making things difficult. “Kook? Hey~” you said, poking his cheek. “Why won’t you look at me?” you asked, pouting.

You got so clingy when you were drunk.

Jungkook used to make fun of you and your tipsy antics but right now? He was so starved for your touch he would do damn near anything to keep you in his arms just a moment longer.

Because now he’d have to let you go again.

And it was going to fucking suck.

“Just getting the door closed, Bug. Give me just a second,” he said, holding you up as he managed to get the damn thing to latch. You still hadn’t fixed it, even though Jungkook told you several times he could call someone to get it done.

‘Nah!’

You’d say with a bright smile.

‘Gives me a project to do later.’

Damn, he was about to cry over a damn door.

This was pathetic.

But so fucking true.

Karma was a bitch and now she was making him suffer. He’d been a shit to you, and not only you. He’d been an asshole to his other friends after you’d left as well. They managed to get him on the right track, but he wasn’t the same.

He wasn’t sure he ever would be.

Karma.

“Hey... Kook?” you asked, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yes bug?” he asked, attempting to get you to your bedroom so he could at least get your makeup and shoes off.

“Are you real? Is this a dream?” you asked.

He swallowed a sob.

Even in your drunken stupor, you remembered what he did. You remembered what happened and you knew that you weren’t friends anymore.

So what would be better?

A dream that you wouldn’t even remember when you woke up?

Or a reality that could upset you even more?

“It’s a dream, bug, go to sleep. You’ll wake up all nice and warm in your bed, nice coffee-”

You made a noise against his shoulder. Jungkook thought for a second you might throw up but that’s when he felt wetness seeping into his shirt.

You were crying.

“I knew it wouldn’t be true...” you hiccuped, resting your head on his shoulder. “I was hoping you were here... I was hoping you came to get me, that you didn’t delete my number and that you were still my friend.”

Jungkook’s eyes got watery too. Fuck... He wanted to tell you, he wanted to comfort you.

“I’m here now,” he said, lifting your head so he could wipe your eyes. Your mascara was everywhere and your lipstick was smeared from drinking and now crying into his shoulder. “Even if it’s a dream, I’m still here,” he said.

“But you won’t be when I wake up...”

Another sob swallowed.

“No... I won’t be, Bug,” he said, letting a few of his own tears fall. “But that’s okay, because Yeri will be. She’s a great friend to you, huh? She’s nice, tell me about her,” he tried.

“I never wanted anyone but you,” you cried.

He couldn’t do this... He absolutely could not do this. He couldn’t leave you again, he couldn’t just walk away when you were so sad. And he was too... He was weak.

Your hands on his cheeks startled him.

He was crying too. And he was crying hard.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I fucked up our friendship, I made you think you didn’t matter. I’m so so so sorry, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. Please, believe me when I say it wasn’t intentional, I never wanted to lose you. If-If I could take it back, I would. I would meet you at that cute boba shop, I’d bring flowers because you love them, not because I fucked up. I-I love you, and I miss you. Always will. But, I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your friendship, I took you for granted and I lost you. That’s how it works.”

He cried as he pushed his forehead against yours, trying to will his apology into your inebriated mind. He knew it wouldn’t stick, he knew you wouldn’t remember. But here and now... He’d at least apologized, he’d at least given you something.

“I love you too, I miss you too,” you cried, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Please don’t leave, I don’t want to wake up and you not be there.”

“You’ve done it before, you’ll survive,” he promised.

“What if I don’t? What if I die because I wake up and you’re not there, huh?” you whimpered, hiding your face in his neck.

“Don’t say that bug,” he begged, rubbing your back. “Don’t say stuff like that, I’m not worth dying over.”

“You are to me...” you cried, clutching him tightly.

Jungkook’s head hurt from how much he was crying. But he pulled himself together. “Come on, you need to go to sleep. You’re tired and you’re not going to feel too good if you keep this up,” he sighed, lifting you into his arms again and carrying you to your room.

He sat you on the bed and managed to get your heels off. He set them nicely by your closet, even sticking some paper towel in them so they wouldn’t wrinkle. He noticed your dress and sighed. He’d bought it for you for your birthday and he just knew you’d look incredible in it. You always begged him not to get you designer stuff, even though he literally was the heir to a fashion mogul. So, he’d shopped on your favorite site and found one you’d look good in.

Even if it was on the pricery end of the website it didn’t even scratch the surface of the money he was prepared to dump on you for your birthday.

But you never wanted it.

You’d always asked for the same things.

A new book.

Some new pens.

New fuzzy socks.

More coffee pods.

A night in with him and some friends.

You didn’t want extravagant. You didn’t think people who did were snobby or high maintenance. You always said that just because a person liked nice things, didn’t mean they weren’t a nice person. If only he didn’t prove you wrong...

All you wanted was his time.

And he didn’t realize that until you didn’t want anything from him anymore.

“Jungkook...” you said, while he was taking off your makeup.

You didn’t sound as drunk anymore, but your glossy eyes told him you were on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes bug, what’s up?” he said, trying to sound calm.

“Will you stay? Just until I’m asleep, will you stay with me until then?” you asked, eyes filling with tears all over again.

He didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Of course, bug. I’ll stay until you’re asleep.”

He managed to get your makeup off and you in bed, snuggled up nice and comfortable. He was sitting at the foot of your bed, ready to head home when your voice spoke up.

“I’m not asleep yet, you can’t leave...”

Jungkook turned to see you, eyes sparkling with tears as you fought sleep. He’d never seen you work so hard to not fall asleep before. You were always ready to pass out when you’d gotten done drinking. Honestly he was impressed you’d made it this far.

“Y/N, go to sleep. You need to rest, you’re tired,” he said, giving your hip a gentle pat.

“Then let me look at you,” you begged, reaching for him. “If it’s the last time I’m gonna see you then I want to remember you, I want to remember every inch of your face so I never forget. Please,” you cried. You were over tired at this point, Jungkook could tell from a mile away.

You were always so weepy and dramatic when you got too tired. But he knew the desperation you felt. He wanted the same, to look at you head to toe. Remember every inch of you, even if the memory would break his heart, at least he had it.

Jungkook let a few more tears fall down his cheeks. He wanted so badly to curl up with you in your bed, talk about your day, the newest anime you were watching. How you were handling school...

“You don’t want to remember me the way I am now, Y/N, I’m angry and sad and not nearly someone worthy of you remembering,” he said, wiping his eyes furiously.

“I think I should decide that,” you said, eyes drooping. You were almost out.

He took your hand in his, placing it on his face as he leaned forward enough so you wouldn’t have to stretch too far to touch him. You smoothed your fingers over his face, tracing the familiar features like you had when you were younger. You were the type of person who loved to run your fingers along all the sweaters in the store, the soft blankets in his apartment, your fuzzy socks as you pulled them up over your feet. And, his face. You’d always done it when he was upset. It gave him something to focus on. Your touch soothed him, made him relax and he felt so at ease when you were there.

There was no pretense, no expectations.

Just you and him.

Unfortunately, all too soon, your hand slowly fell from his cheek onto his shoulder. A soft snore echoing through the room.

Jungkook allowed himself to break then.

He cried, holding your hand against his cheek as he tried to calm down enough to at least drive home. But fuck...

Fuck it hurt so bad.

You woke up feeling like you’d gone to hell and back all in one evening.

And you didn’t remember a damn thing.

Well, you remember Yeri and Hoseok...

You remember wanting to dance on the bar, but... After that?

You winced as you sat up. A glass of water and medicine by your bed. You tilted your head and frowned for a second.

Yeri must’ve put it there for you.

You gave a soft smile before taking the medicine and getting up. Your head hurt and your face was super puffy like you’d been crying. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t made Yeri uncomfortable at all. You weren’t super close, but you’d like to be.

She was really kind and genuine so you were really hoping that your night of drunken stupor hadn’t frightened her off.

You’d been drunk around her before but not blackout.

Thankfully, Yeri called later so you could apologize.

“Yerrriii~” you whined, hiding your face in the couch. “I don’t want to hear about my drunken escapades. I’m embarrassed enough as it is!”

“Ah, sweetie,” she chuckled. “No need to be, I apologized to the bartender and he was cool about it. Hoseok wasn’t even phased, he said he had a friend who was wilder than you when drunk! Crazy huh?”

“Well at least you got to go home with a cute guy!” you smirked.

Yeri sounded confused as she spoke next. “You went home with someone too, your boyfriend right?”

“Huh?” you sat up. “What do you mean, Yeri? I thought you brought me home?”

“No, Hoseok and I couldn’t figure out how to get you home and then me home without getting one of those big Ubers that are stupid expensive and I didn’t want to leave you alone in a cab so we called and this super hot guy showed up! Calling you sweet little nicknames and you said he loves you so I just assumed-”

“What was his name? Yeri?” your voice was strained.

Did he come for you?

At two in the morning did he wake up and drive halfway across the town just for you?

“Um... someone named, uh-Kook? With a little red heart emoji?” she clarified.

Suddenly you felt sick, sicker than you had when you woke up.

Jungkook...

“Shit...” you said, eyes welling up with tears.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Should I not have called him? Did he hurt you!? Are you okay? I’ll kill him what-”

“No, Yeri... He’s a good guy, I’ve known him for years. We had a-uh... Falling out a few months ago, so,” you coughed awkwardly, trying to stave off the agony piling up in your throat.

“Well... He seemed pretty worried about you. Seems to care about you a lot, to come all that way to pick you up and take you home,” she said, trying to make you feel better.

But it only made you feel worse.

“Thanks, Yeri... I’m gonna be late for class if I don’t get moving. Sorry, I’ll chat later?”

“Sure, Y/N, take it easy!”

You’d never been good at reading your own body.

If you were sick, you were always the last one to pick up on it. Jungkook was always the one who seemed to notice you wheezing, your sore throat and coughing.

But even you were starting to think that maybe you should go see a doctor...

It’d been two weeks since Jungkook had picked you up from the bar, and he hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t texted, hadn’t called or even checked in on you through his friends you still spoke to.

Yoongi was the one to mention you looking unwell.

“You look like shit.”

He could’ve said it nicer but he got his point across.

“I’m fine,” you said, voice scratchy and head throbbing.

“If you’re fine then I’m fucking Hercules,” he snorted. “After class go get some tea and sleep, okay?”

You nodded.

But you were a big, fat liar.

It was reaching damn near ten o’clock and the library at your school was closing.

You’d been trying to finish this project all night and you hadn’t gotten an ounce of work done. The words were all jumbled, your mind was mush and you were so tired you were fighting to stay awake.

As you were walking up the steps to your apartment you could feel something was wrong. You weren’t okay, you really needed to see a doctor...

Your head was spinning, your chest felt heavy and you could tell you had a fever with how hard your hands were shaking as you tried to get into your apartment.

You grabbed your phone, desperately trying to call Yoongi or Yeri to come and help you.

Neither answered.

It was late... They probably wouldn’t even see you called until the morning...

Could you call him?

He came before...

In your delirious and frightened stupor you hit call, your knees were shaking and you were panting into the phone.

“Hello?”

His voice...

Oh fuck, his voice...

“Jungkook,” you whimpered, head foggy as you tried to stay on your feet.

“Y/N...? Why are you calling me-”

Your mind was blacking out. The edges of your vision going dark as you tried to keep yourself upright.

“Kook... help me...”

And everything went dark.

Work was hell.

It was so late and he just wanted to fucking go home and drink.

Ever since he took you home a few weeks back he’d been having a hard time sleeping. All he could see was your crying face as you begged him to be there when you woke up.

And his calendar was just fucking crammed.

Jungkook was struggling to keep up with everything. He had wedding planning to do, dinners to arrange, meetings to attend and-

Ring ring... Ring ring...

Who the fuck was calling right now!?

Jungkook didn’t even look at the phone as he answered it.

“Hello?” he asked into the receiver.

Soft panting came through the phone. “Jungkook...”

That was your voice.

His heart was beating a million miles a minute. What were you calling him for?

Were you drunk again?

“Y/N...? Why are you calling me-”

He didn’t even get to finish his statement before his stomach dropped to the floor.

In your weak, shaking voice you called for him.

“Kook... help me...” you pleaded before he heard a loud thud and the phone fall.

“Y/N?” he asked.

No response.

“Y/N, hey!” he called. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Still no response.

He didn’t know where you were, he didn’t know what was going on.

But he was going to find you.

Thank God you didn’t block his number. He kept your call open as he tried to use location tracking on his phone.

“Bug? Can you hear me? What’s going on, where are you?” he asked, trying to see if you’d talk.

His phone pinged with the location.

Your apartment.

You were at home.

Without any second thoughts he burst out of his office and took off down the hall, grabbing his keys and wallet and bolting down the stairs to his car. He wasn’t waiting for a fucking elevator.

He stayed on the line the whole way to the parking structure, trying to talk to you. Trying to see what was going on. When he finally got to his car the call dropped.

He panicked and kept trying to call you back, but your phone must’ve died.

“Shit, shit!” he said, jumping into the front seat and driving erratically down the road.

He was shocked no one pulled him over with how recklessly he was driving. You’d scold him for it later, but right now he needed to know you were okay. Even if you slapped the shit out of him, beat him and told him to never come near you again.

He needed to know you’d be okay...

When he pulled up to your apartment building he flew up the steps and to your door. It wasn’t latched, so he pushed it open and found you laying on the floor.

“Y/N!” he cried, falling to his knees next to you. “Hey, hey are you okay? Y/N, sweetheart hey!” he called, trying to get you to wake up.

You were burning up and he came to the conclusion you were sick.

And you’d put it off like you always do.

Carefully he tried to sit you up when he noticed the blood on the floor. His heart stopped as he checked you over but found it had come from your nose. You must be really sick if you were like this. Usually you’d see a doctor if it got this bad but, apparently you didn’t catch it quick enough this time.

With strength he didn’t know he had, he hauled you into his arms and carried you to the car.

He just hoped you’d be okay.

What if I die because I wake up and you’re not there?

Everything ached.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and saw you were in a hospital bed.

There was an older woman checking a clipboard at the end of your bed who met your eyes and smiled gently. “Hello sweetheart,” she said.

“H-Hi...?” you asked, trying to sit up.

“Ah ah,” she stopped you, coming close to help you settle back in. “Try not to move a lot just yet. You’ve been out for a whole day,” she said.

You looked outside and noticed it was dark... But not from the night you passed out, it was the next night.

“Oh...” you said, biting your lip sheepishly.

“That boyfriend of yours is going to have a fit you woke up and he’s not here,” she chuckled.

“Boyfriend?” you asked.

“Oh, I don’t mean to assume. The one who brought you here. He carried you in here all panicked. We thought you were going into labor with how he was acting,” she chuckled, but it was good natured. “He was so worried about you, calling you bug and sweetheart, holding your hand when the doctors came in to check on you. We just assumed you two were together because... how in love he is with you,” she said softly.

Jungkook...?

In love with you...?

“Where is he?” you asked as she lifted a cup of water to your lips for you to drink.

“Ah, unfortunately his dad came and sent him home. He’d been at work all day when you’d called and then he stayed until just about an hour ago,” she said.

He was with you for almost twenty-four hours?

“He... he didn’t leave at all?” you asked.

“No, he got snippy with the nurses a few times though. But we knew he didn’t mean anything by it, he’s worried about you,” she said.

“I-Is his dad still here?” you asked.

“Yes, he is. Do you want me to get him?” she offered.

“Yes... Yes I’d like to speak with him please,” you said.

She nodded and disappeared out of the room and down the hall.

He came for you...

You called and he came for you.

He carried you into the hospital and was worried, he snipped at some nurses because he was worried...

We just assumed you two were together because... how in love he is with you...

Jungkook, loves you?

“Y/N?” Mr. Jeon’s voice echoed loud in your ears as you turned to look at the door.

He looked good for not having seen him in almost five months. You gave him a kind smile before he came over and squeezed your hand gently.

“You scared us,” he said, holding your hand carefully. “Jungkook called me in hysterics, saying you were dying in the hospital and I had to come see you and then he wasn’t making any sense-anyways,” he said, another squeeze to your hand.

If he wasn’t making any sense how did he drive home?

Was he okay?

Did he eat anything? Drink anything-

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I called Naomi and she came and got him. I told her to make sure he drank water and had something to eat before he went to bed, okay?” he said, reassuring you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling tears fall down your cheeks.

Mr. Jeon shook his head, wrapping you up in his arms gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. Least of all to me, Jungkook’s the one who was about ready to have an aneurysm because of a fever.”

You sighed. “He’s always been melodramatic, why stop now?” you joked.

Mr. Jeon chuckled softly, giving a nod before stepping back. “He’s going to be devastated you woke up and he wasn’t here... He kept babbling about how you’d die if you woke up and he was gone.”

What if I die because I wake up and you’re not there?

Wait...

You’d said that.

It’s fuzzy, and makes your mouth taste sour but. You remember saying that to Jungkook.

Suddenly, you were thrown back into that night.

Asking him if he was a dream.

Asking him if he would stay.

“When will he be back?” You asked, your voice wobbling.

Mr. Jeon gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Probably in a few hours, get some rest. I’ll stay until he comes back, okay?”

—

You could hear his voice in the sea of sleep, his warmth enveloping you and holding you close.

“Did she wake up at all?” You could hear Jungkook’s exhaustion, he likely wasn’t gone long enough to get a full night's rest.

“She did, but it wasn’t for long,” a nurse said.

“D-Did she ask for anything? Anyone?” He said, looking at you.

He was still bone tired, but he only let himself sleep for a few hours. What if you needed him? What if the hospital called and you-

“Kook…?” Your voice was scratchy you noticed, making you clear your throat before opening your eyes.

Jungkook stood frozen in the room. As if waiting for you to send him away, waiting for you to yell at him. But all you could do was reach, begging him to come closer.

He didn’t make you wait, moving forward quickly as he wrapped his arms around you. “Fuck, Y/N,” he said, voice strained with worry. “Never fucking do that again, I thought you’d died,” he croaked, kissing your head briefly, he winced when he pulled away because he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to do that... He just did it without thinking, oh God what if-

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, moving back to look at your face. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I was a bad friend and got you into this mess,” he frowned.

“It’s not your fault I don’t know when I’m sick,” you said with a soft smile.

“Y/N…”

You shook your head, bringing him back in for another hug. Jungkook sighed, resting against you lightly, allowing himself to feel at ease for the first time in months.

Mr. Jeon walked in, knocking on the door before Yeri and Yoongi both walked in behind him.

“Y/N!!” Yeri cried, rushing forward. Jungkook stepped aside for a moment so she could squeeze you. “Jesus I saw your missed calls and when an older man answered your phone I got so worried,” she said. “But it turns out Mr. Jeon is pretty alright,” she said with a kind smile.

“Alright, move over Yeri,” Yoongi chuckled, giving you a gentle hug as well.

The two started chatting with you, asking about things that Jungkook didn’t know about.

Your new semester has started and he wasn’t privy to your schedule anymore. So he stood back, letting your friends speak and make you feel better. Even though he was desperate to do it himself.

Mr. Jeon watched as his son left the room, walking down the hall with his head hung low. He sighed, sending a quick glance your way. You were speaking to your friends but your eyes were still trying to find Jungkook after he’d left the room. Mr. Jeon gave you a nod before following him.

“Jungkook, son,” he called, jogging down the hallway to grab him.

“Her friends are here, she doesn’t need me anymore… Did we pay for the expenses? If not let me do it,” Jungkook said, grabbing his wallet out when his dad stopped him.

“Son, why are you running away from her?” He asked softly.

Jungkook tensed up, biting his lip as he struggled to keep his composure. “Because… her friends are there, the ones who always chose her. The ones who didn’t forget her, the ones who prioritized her… the ones who deserve her,” he whispered.

“Jungkook…” his father said, his tone gentle. “People make mistakes, people learn and they grow. You may not have been deserving of her friendship a few months ago… but now you might be able to ask her if maybe-maybe she’d like to try again,” he offered.

“What if she says no?” He whimpered. “I can’t keep letting her go, it hurts too much,” he said.

His dad brought him in for a tight hug, patting his back a few times to ease his cries. “Then you’ll respect her decision, but something tells me this time apart was just as hard on her as it was for you,” he stated.

Jungkook nodded, sniffling and wiping his eyes before he looked back towards your room. You were laughing with Yeri, Yoongi scowling but not in an angry way.

Yours and Jungkook’s dynamic had always been complex but it had never been hard.

He waited patiently in the hall until Yoongi and Yeri left. Not without looking at Jungkook. Yeri stopped and waved at him, Yoongi gave him a nod before leading her back down the hall.

Jungkook stood and walked back to your room. He waited by the door, standing there as he looked at you. “Hi…” he said, looking down at his feet for a moment.

You looked at him. He was clearly tired, his shoulders slumped forward.

“Hi,” you said softly. “You can come in Jungkook.”

He stood still, taking a few deep breaths before walking in and standing next to your bed.

He’d been crying…

“The doctor said that once your fever comes down they’ll send you home,” he said, voice quiet.

“Yeah? That’s good then, right? Yeri said she’d get notes for me for some of our classes at least,” you stated.

Jungkook nodded and the room went quiet. It was awkward how the silence hung between you two when it was usually nonexistent.

But Jungkook didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do to make things okay again. Where did he start?

“Kook…?” You asked, looking at his spaced out expression. His eyes snapped to yours as he seemed to be spiraling. “Hey, do you need a hug?” You asked, already reaching for him.

You didn’t even realize you were doing it. Your body knew his ques and tells so well at this point. He was fiddling with his sleeves, and he couldn’t hold your gaze too long.

He was nervous, almost scared.

But he was also weak. Weak for you and your affection. So he moved to accept your embrace, hugging you tightly. His head slotted where it always did, right in your neck. He sighed shakily, like this was almost painful for him.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay, Jungkook?” You asked, voice tender. You were talking like you always did.

The memory of your red eyes and raw throat once you yelled at him in his apartment haunted him. So to hear your normal voice, not one filled with tears or booze or anger… just you…

Jungkook choked on a sob, winding his arms around you tighter, leaning into your touch like he was used to. Finally allowing himself to feel your embrace.

Even if it would be the last time you’d let him.

“Jungkook…? Please talk to me, what’s wrong?” You asked, running your fingers over his brows, gently sweeping your thumb along his jawline.

Tracing his features like you always do.

“I fucking miss you,” he cried into your skin, holding you closer still.

He didn’t add any kind of grand gesture to his words, he didn’t try to coat them in flowers or barbs or whatever. It was just the plain and simple truth.

The painful truth.

He misses you, he misses showing up on your doorstep with your favorite takeout. He misses texting you cute pictures of Bam and receiving your classic, ‘he’s a mama’s boy!’ text. He misses the simplicity of your relationship, how easy it was to be just Jungkook and Y/N. You’d never asked him to be more or less.

You only ever asked him to be himself, to be genuine and authentic with you.

Your throat clenched at his broken voice, the way his body shook as he tried to pull you as close as the bed and equipment would allow.

You felt the warmth of his tears on your neck, making you tear up as well. You’d imagined it wouldn’t be easy for him. But Jungkook was always the more sensitive one, contrary to popular belief. He was very tender hearted and soft, he just wanted love.

And you were his person for years and years. His comfort, his rock, his support, his home.

And to suddenly be ripped away from you, especially when he knew it was his fault. It hurt all the worse. He’d beaten himself up over the last months, he’d been mean and judgmental towards himself and his work even.

His father had been so worried he’d almost called you a few times. Because he didn’t listen to anyone the way he listened to you.

“I miss you too.”

Your words hung in the air, causing Jungkook to freeze. He pulled back from you, eyes red and full of tears. “Y-You miss me? Even if I-”

“Kook,” you stopped him, wiping his tears away with your thumbs. “I called you, twice. I called you two times after not speaking to you for months and you came. Both times. You were there when I needed you, you made it up to me. This is me forgiving you,” you said, giving him your classic smile.

His heart ached.

He doesn't deserve it!

He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness… your friendship. Certainly not your love, no matter how badly he wants them.

He doesn’t deserve you.

“I-I can’t…” he whimpered, head dropping forward in shame.

“You can, kookie, you can,” you promised. “And I’ll be here to help you.”

—

It was your discharge day only a couple days later. You’d responded well to the fluids and medicine and were ready to go home!

“Bug! You almost ready?” Jungkook called, standing outside the bathroom. Yeri had run to your apartment to get you some clothes to get comfy in.

Jungkook had pitched a fit about you being alone while taking all this medicine. Even though it was only for a few more days.

So you were staying with him for the weekend.

Jungkook and you were good. Better than ever really. You both apologized, him a little more than he needed to but you understood. He was worried, he didn’t want to overstep or make you upset.

But, there was something he was hiding.

You could tell something was up.

He had that look on his face. The look of ‘this is my innocuous face nothing suspicious here promise’ written all over his features. But you couldn’t possibly figure out what was going on.

“So, the fiancé isn’t going to be mad that I’m staying with you?” You asked, already wanting to shove your foot in your mouth for asking such a stupid question.

You’d managed to ignore the incoming fiancé bomb for the most part but the thoughts were eating you alive so you just… damn.

“Ah… yeah, we’re not together anymore,” he sighed.

“B-But! You got engaged like two weeks ago?!”

Jungkook chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, she had to pull out. Her girlfriend wanted to try again and she didn’t want to give up on her just yet,” he offered. “We’re still making a deal just not as intricate as before,” he said.

You swallowed thickly at this information.

Why did this information of his relationship status throw you for such a loop. You were ready to be disappointed.

But here you were.

Single.

And here Jungkook was.

Single.

For some reason it felt different than before. There was a period of time when Jungkook had girlfriends, one night stands and other exploratory things going on in his sex life-and that was fine. Normal and such.

But you’d been a late bloomer, only getting your first boyfriend at around twenty. He’d taken your virginity and then you’d both drifted apart as people do.

After that you’d not done much in regards to relationships outside your platonic ones.

Of course being hung up on your best friend did that.

So… what do you do now?

“Bug? Come on honey, let’s get you out of here. Bammie is going to be so excited to see his mommy!” He said with his adorable scrunched face.

“Yeah? Maybe we can stop so I can pick him out a new toy, huh?” You suggested, opening the door to the bathroom and handing him the gown to put in the bin across the room.

He did so without question, coming back to hand you your coat. “Can you walk or do you want to ride in a wheelchair?” He asked, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

Your heart stammered at his proximity.

Shit…

Being away from him for months had worn down those defenses you'd built so carefully growing up.

Jungkook was handsome. Physically painful to witness at times, chest twinges weren’t uncommon.

Lower twinges as well…

The thought made your cheeks burn and eyes turn slightly shifty as Jungkook watched your thoughts and feelings flit across your features like they always do.

“You're thinking about something, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” He asked.

You nodded quickly, giving him an easy smile. “Yes Kook, I’m good. But I want you to push me in the wheelchair, just don’t run me into the wall like you did after I got my wisdom teeth out,” you laughed.

He gave an indignant pout, eyes looking challenged. “Hey! You weren’t sitting still! You almost fell onto the floor,” he complained.

“I was high off of anesthesia! What did you think was gonna happen?” You laughed heartily.

Jungkook’s eyes got glossy again.

You’d noticed he’d look at you for a minute sometimes, almost getting lost in thought. When you’d treat him like you always did, his features relaxed. Almost in… relief?

It was the tone of your voice. The pitch of your laughter.

Jungkook couldn’t help it. Everything you did endeared him more and more.

He’d always known you were lovely. Soft, sweet and beautiful.

You were loving and gentle, and Jungkook appreciated you so very much. Most people knew him as the golden boy. His fathers pride and joy and a charmer that made his mother blush in joy. But you knew him as Jungkook, always as himself. His truest self.

There was no pretense.

Things between the two of you were easy, natural. Jungkook didn’t have to think around you, because even if he didn’t make sense you understood him enough to not be scared away by his awkwardness at times, or his obsession with things that weren’t the norm for guys his age.

(The banana milk, the marvel figurines and many more occupy your mind with a sweet hint of nostalgia for the man in front of you, unbeknownst to that very person).

“I promise I’ll drive carefully, if you promise to ride carefully, huh?” He offered.

You snorted before giving a nod as he brought the chair to you.

Jungkook held the handles as you gently lowered down into the chair. He’d done this for you several times over again in your life. Whether it was for your wisdom teeth or to remove that piece of glass from your foot.

He’d always been right behind you. Loving you and supporting you with his gentle warmth that could turn into a fire if left unattended by your watchful rationality.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He’d always been since the day you met.

“Alright, hold on tight!”

You smiled softly as he guided you out of the hospital, down the halls and onto the elevators.

He had all the nurses swooning with the way he was looking at you. They all watched with the same fond expression.

However you both remained oblivious to them, far too wrapped up in your teasing conversation.

Your normal.

Finally, you made it out front with Naomi giving you a tight squeeze.

“Ahh! You look skinny! You need to eat more, I’ll have to make you some kimchi jjigae huh?” She teased, giving your cheeks a good natured smoosh.

“Stob it!” You whined, cheeks squished making your words come out funny enough to make Jungkook’s heart throb.

“Sorry, sorry Princess,” she soothed, smoothing her hands over your hair and giving you another small hug before getting the door for Jungkook and yourself.

Jungkook helped you up as Naomi went to put the chair back.

You both got in the car and Naomi shut the partition.

You sighed in relief as you pulled away from the hospital. The buildings gave you horrible anxiety, and Jungkook knew this as his hand rubbed your thigh comfortingly.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked.

“Just the usual, kook. Hospitals still freak me out, they probably always will in a way,” you sighed.

“I get it,” he promised, kissing your head and giving your shoulder a squeeze before his phone rang.

“Shit, it’s mom, hold on,” he said, answering it shortly after.

You nodded, looking out the window and watched the city pass by. You still felt Jungkook’s hand in yours though, warm and soft.

As always.

—

Jungkook was still sour as he sat on the couch as you cooed and guffawed at his dog. Who had, rather rudely in fact, blew right past him to land square at your feet with the sweetest eyes he’d had in months

“Tsk, damned traitor,” he growled, trying to fight the jealousy that his dog was right where he wanted to be.

Your lap.

Bam and him had been at war for the prized spot of your soft and supple thighs that were utterly perfect pillows.

Jungkook can’t remember how many times he’d fallen asleep on your legs, it’s been far far too many to count.

Although, his dog currently blocking him from increasing those stats was making him ridiculously jealous.

You could see it too, because you smirked when Bam started snoring. Jungkook hardly ever had the heart to wake the pup once he was out like this.

However, you weren’t sure it was applicable tonight.

“Bug…”

“Yes?” You asked, scratching Bams tummy softly. You’d just taken your medicine a while ago and you were getting a little sleepy.

“I think Bam has to go potty.”

“Jungkook, he's sleeping.”

He huffed, annoyed at your lack of attention. “H-He’ll need to go when he gets up, he’s had trouble with not peeing before I get up.”

“Alright, wake him up then,” you said, giving him a pointed look.

“I can’t Y/N-”

You rolled your eyes and patted Bam on the rear. He snorted and woke himself up with a jolt. A soft peel of laughter came from you at his goofy expression.

“Come on Bammie, we need to go potty then we need to go to bed,” Jungkook called softly, standing and walking towards the door.

“Gonna take him outside?” You asked, knowing he had space on his balcony that he could use but Bam often liked going for a little wander before his end of evening potty.

“Yeah, head to bed, I’ll be there soon,” he said.

Your heart thudded dangerously.

Fuck…

This whole day, this entire time since he’d picked you up at the bar your heart has been yearning for him.

This isn’t the soft crush you’d parted with…

It was turning into genuine love, and it certainly didn’t feel platonic.

Head to bed, I’ll be there soon…

“Is the guest room not ready?” You asked, voice light but there was a slight waver in your tone.

Jungkook turned with a confused expression. “No? I didn’t think we’d need it, my beds big enough yeah?”

Thump…

“Okay, do you still-”

“Pink toothbrush, your toothpaste is still in the drawer with mine,” he said, pulling on his shoes.

You felt emotion clog your throat, making you nod as he walked out with Bam in tow. A few stray tears fell down your cheeks before you wiped them away.

He still has my toothpaste, he got me a new toothbrush…

All of these things were mundane, even expected in a sense. But, your chest fluttered all the same.

You hurried to his room, smiling at the fact he’d even gotten a few of your skincare products out. Your heart squeezed when you realized they were new, he’d remembered all of them.

Brushing your teeth and climbing into bed felt like a dream. The sheets were soft and smelt nice, like they always did.

And you fell asleep, only barely waking to a soft voice telling you to go back to bed.

“Sleep bug, I’m right here.”

—

Heat.

Sweltering heat.

That is how sleeping with Jungkook normally went. He was a fucking furnace, even if all he slept in was a pair of boxers!

But you woke to push some of the blankets off, shifting with some difficulty as Jungkook’s arms were like iron fucking bars around your waist.

His hands settled on your lower stomach. You swallowed hard as you tried to not think about it too much.

After winding down and managing to breathe without feeling like you're burning alive.

That’s when you felt it.

You shifted your hips slightly just to confirm your suspicions and to your utter disbelief you were correct.

Your best friend.

Your sweet Jungkook had a boner, a quite impressive one, and it was pressed firmly against your ass.

Death was imminent.

Your mind was running three thousand miles a minute. What do you do?!

You and Jungkook have slept together in the same bed multiple times, but usually Jungkook doesn’t cuddle much. And if he does you manage to wiggle out before this situation happens.

Also, you tended to sleep like the dead. Just another thing you and Jungkook shared. Although you were fairly certain that he was the heavier sleeper of the pair of you.

His hands tightened around your stomach as he pressed further into your body. His head fell into the crook of your shoulder and neck. He sighed softly, his breaths panting against your skin and causing goosebumps to run along your flesh.

“Y/N...” he drawled, clearly still asleep. His voice was deep and raspy, making your thighs clench unintentionally which caused your hips to rut backwards just a touch. But Jungkook made a soft pant in your ear that had wetness collecting in your panties to your shock.

Not that you hadn’t left this room in search of some extra underwear before...

Jungkook shifted towards you with a grunt, nestling into your neck and shoulder to the point he was damn near wrapped around you.

And that certainly didn’t help the morning wood that had found an apparently pleasing spot right on your ass cheeks. You didn’t want to embarrass him by waking him up...

But this was going to melt your brain if you continued any longer. “Kook,” you mumbled, tugging on his wrists. “Wake up.”

“Mmm,” he sighed, staying firmly in place.

“Jungkook, get up,” you said, pushing back with your hips.

A soft moan escaped him as you wriggled around. You felt him roll his hips forward in response, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Causing a stupid and loud spluttering cough to fall from your lips.

Jungkook startled awake at your jolting and loud hacking.

“Bug? Whas’ wrong?” he slurred, trying to sit up so you could breathe.

“Jungkook-bathroom,” you pointed.

He tilted his head in confusion, before he looked down and his face turned beet red.

“O-oh! Y/N, I-I’m sorry I-I didn’t mean to-uh... It’s kinda just a thing, but I can understand it’s uncomfortable-”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes.”

“It’s okay, I know how penises work. Just go cool off in the shower so I can get my blood pressure back to a normal level please?” you asked, keeping your head down.

Jungkook shuffled off the bed awkwardly and tried to hide himself best he could. You tried to steady your breathing as you felt your heart hammering far too quickly inside your chest.

Holy shit...

What is one supposed to do when you’re so turned on by your best friend you aren’t sure how to breathe?

You heard the shower turn on and you were snapped out of your horny stupor.

Jesus...

You weren’t normally so... feral about all of this. Had being away from him really done this to you? Your heart ached to be close, to hold him tightly and keep him with you... But, you just got back to being friends-

But, how long until you couldn’t bury the frustration and anger anymore? How long would you have to bottle up the scarily not platonic feelings swirling in your chest.

Why was your heart still racing so fast?

Your chest hurts.

Oh fuck-

That night burns hot in your mind. Him forgetting, you leaving.

It had been so hard to walk away. You were devestated for days. Yoongi had to come and force feed you. He’d threatened to call Jungkook if you didn’t delete his number. But you couldn’t…

The little picture you used as his icon made the deep agony in your heart ease for just a moment.

But the anger-

You slapped him.

Oh God, why do you want to burst into tears? What is this ache right in the base of your throat...? You want to cry, but you want to apologize more.

With a gentle cry you jumped out of the bed and scrambled like some stupid love-drunk idiot.

Jungkook may have been wrong first.

But you were wrong too.

You’d hurt him too.

By not staying, by not fighting for your friendship. By not at least giving him a chance to explain himself. To apologize. To try.

And... And for not being honest with not only him... But yourself.

Fuck... you’re so sorry-

“Kook!” you cried, falling through the bathroom door. Jungkook jumped as he stood there in his pajama pants and nothing else.

“Bug?! What’s wrong? Y/N, jesus fuck what-”

“Jungkook I’m so sorry I love you!”

Your throat ached with how much you were crying.

The dam of him being gone-had burst. The pain you’d felt being away from him.

You thought you could ignore the guilt that was eating you alive. You could just move on, you’d both learned and wanted to do better. So why dwell on that deep piercing ache in your stomach?

Because hurting the people you love hurts you just as much.

Because not acknowledging your wrongs and burying the guilt only makes it fester.

“I missed you so much! I love you so much and I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t try!” you wailed, holding onto him tightly as the rest of you trembled.

“Y/N, baby, shh, honey breathe,” Jungkook tried to soothe you. Your hands were ice cold on his upper back and shoulders and he was worried you’d worked yourself up into an anxiety attack. He pet the back of your head, gently kissing your temple as he rocked the two of you as you’d collapsed onto the floor.

“Koo, m’so sorry!” you mumbled against his shoulder.

You were shaking like a leaf, you could barely hold onto him.

“Y/N, princess,” he called softly. “Please look at me, baby, look at me, hey,” he said, moving you back by your head gently. He smoothed his thumbs over your puffy, tear stained cheeks and he tilted his head and gave you a soft smile. “What’s wrong huh?”

Your eyes welled up again and Jungkook shushed you, pressing his forehead on yours. Shrinking your world down to just you and him. His warmth and strong hands cradling your neck. “Easy. Y/N, I don’t know what’s got you so worked up but you need to calm down just a bit. You’re shaking honey.”

“I-I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you sniffled pathetically, holding his wrists tightly.

“You keep saying that, what do you have to be sorry for Bug? You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, voice soft and slow.

“I left you,” you cried. “I was so worried about my own feelings and how much I didn’t like that you had a fiance that-” you hiccuped and squeezed his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. “That was everything I’m not and... and when you supposedly forgot me because of her I lost it and I fucked up... I shouldn’t have blamed you for me not being honest.”

Jungkook blinked slowly, swallowing hard as he tried to understand what you were saying to him.

“Y/N...” he said softly, brushing your hair from your face. “What are you trying to tell me, huh?”

Your stomach almost fell into the floor and your heart clenched painfully at the idea of fessing up. But you’d basically said it at this point. You say it all the time...

I love you.

So simple in theory right?

But in many cultures, tone and phrasing are everything.

But, why is it so hard to make that simple flip?

“Jungkook...”

His eyes shone in the glittering light of the morning flooding in through the bathroom.

“Jungkook I...”

His hand tightened around your waist.

“I love y-”

You didn’t even get to finish your words before his lips were covering yours. His hands holding your face as he kissed you desperately. Like he’d been craving to do it for years.

“Me too,” he gasped, moving back to kiss you again.

“Koo-mh!” you were promptly cut off.

“Shut up for a second and let me kiss you-before I either get slapped again or I take you on this bathroom floor,” he growled as he pulled you in again.

You helplessly wrapped your arms around his neck, relaxing in his hold as best you could with your heart still struggling to catch up. You still had tears on your cheeks and your knees were wobbling and sore from the tile floor.

But you’d pass out before you let him go first.

Jungkook finally managed to pull away from you for a moment. “I didn’t get slapped,” he breathed against your lips harshly.

“No... You didn’t,” you said, resting against him.

“So... what does that mean Y/N? I don’t want to make this awkward or weird but... but I can’t kiss you like that and not want more...”

With hot cheeks you tugged him back to your lips. “Me either,” you whispered, cradling his neck.

“Y/N, I really do love you... I want you to be mine,” he said, holding you by the waist.

Your eyes got big as you looked into his. They were warm, like always. He wasn’t hiding anything, he was being vulnerable. He was being himself.

Because you made it so easy for him to do.

“As long as you’re mine too,” you sighed, resting against him in exhaustion. Your body was dropping from the adrenaline rush you’d had from your near panic attack and impromptu emotional breakthrough.

“Sleepy Bug,” he chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get you back to bed and when you get up later we can talk more. But, you’re mine, Bug... And I’m yours.”

Hearing those words you fell into slumber against his warm chest, only briefly feeling the bed underneath you once more before sleep swallowed you whole.

Dating Jungkook was surprisingly the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

He was kind, he was loving and he was honest. It’s been a great few months. His parents both were thrilled to hear the news and fully supported the both of you.

Life was good.

You’d never felt like this before, this amount of joy and happiness suffused through your being. You were happy being best friends, but this just felt like a natural progression. Being together was always easy, almost innate in a way.

And tonight, you wanted to be together in a different way...

You and Jungkook had kept it fairly PG-13 for the most part. You both wanted to get comfortable with the new part of your relationship first before you added any intimacy. There was no rush, you had time to come together like that.

You had Yeri over one night, and chaos was inevitable.

The two of you loved to drink wine and fool around and just make merry (ruckus).

Hoseok had even joined a few times, as Yeri’s potential boyfriend. They hadn’t made anything official yet, but they’d been out several times since your night at the bar.

Currently, Yeri was cooing over pictures of Bam in your phone.

“God that damn dog is so cute,” she sighed in disdain, bigger dogs sometimes frightened her but you had been coaxing her out of that mindset with adorable pictures of Bam.

“The next one is him in those pajamas. Jungkook wanted to burn them the second I laid eyes on them,” you snorted.

“Oh my God that’s-oh... That’s not a cute dog, however it is a very nice set of lingerie Y/N~” Yeri giggled, showing you the picture she’d stumbled upon.

You in the set you’d purchased after one of these very wine drunk evenings with Yeri.

It wasn’t anything crazy. Just a navy colored babydoll with matching panties. You’d taken a few pictures of yourself in the full length mirror in your room and had admired your body in the alluring fabric.

“Ah-sorry,” you flushed, taking your phone to find the actual picture you’d been talking about.

“No apology needed, I love that color on you! Such a nice set too! What did Jungkook think, hm?” she teased.

That’s when you felt your face heat up exponentially.

“You look constipated, what’s wrong? Are you gonna puke?” she stressed, moving to grab the garbage when you shook your head.

“No no, I’m good. It’s just... We haven’t had sex yet,” you said softly. “We wanted to figure out our dynamic first before we started becoming intimate. I have barely had sex, I’m practically a virgin, and he wants it to be meaningful.”

“It’ll be meaningful because it’s you two,” Yeri said with kind eyes. “I understand wanting to make it feel important, but... You don’t need crazy expensive or lavish things to have good intimacy, although it can be fun to incorporate,” she teased.

Your heart clenched at those words and you nodded with a small smile.

“You’re right Yeri,” you said. “I think it’s something I want to talk about more in our relationship, especially lately. I think we could take that step now. Of course I don’t want to rush him or anything-”

“Y/N,” Yeri sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That man loves you so much I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep him away from you as long as you have. I bet you, you send him a single picture of you in lingerie and you will be trapped in either this room or that fancy penthouse for three business days.”

A choked noise of shock came from you as you scrambled to respond.

“H-He’s not an animal Yeri! He-”

“Because he hasn’t been given the green light to let out the inner beast,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“That’s never a good look to see on your face,” you sighed, now it was your turn to pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“I bet you two drinks at the bar next time we go, that if you send a racy picture your man will be calling within fifteen minutes to confirm your dick appointment,” she said.

“Yeri!”

“Hell, if you send them I will definitely buy the first two rounds of drinks next time,” she said. “Cause you’re too chicken to send them.”

You blanched at her, unimpressed with her childish tactics to wind you up.

Your wine addled brain was sobering, your last glass having been over an hour ago.

It was almost midnight, and Hoseok would no doubt be by soon to grab Yeri bringing your social plans for the evening to a close.

Why not?

Why not send a sexy picture to your even sexier boyfriend?

“Fine! I’ll grab my favorite set and send him a picture,” you promise.

“Fifteen minutes, set a timer.”

Hoseok arrived roughly half an hour later and you gave Yeri a tight squeeze before she leaned against the taller man as he guided her safely to his car. With a kind smile and wave they drove off.

You felt your phone buzz in your pajama shorts pocket and you looked and smiled to see a picture of Bam curled up on the couch with your favorite blanket snoozing happily.

Kook ❤️: he misses his mommy 🥺🥺

Y/N: how can he miss me if he’s asleep??

Kook ❤️: happens to me all the time. Miss you in my sleep. Miss you when I wake up alone, miss you when I see my dog sleeping in your blanket.

Y/N: *our

Kook ❤️: can I send a driver for you? Come stay with me tonight.

You chuckled and then sent a quick glance to your underwear drawer.

Y/N: I’m already in my pajamas

Kook ❤️: perfect, you’ll be ready for immediate cuddles when you get here

Y/N: these are new pajamas

You got up and grabbed the only other set of lingerie you had. A soft black cotton robe with a nice set of bra and panties that were a rich wine color. It seemed oddly fitting.

Without much thought you pulled them on and looked at your frame in the mirror before you heard your phone buzzing again.

Kook ❤️: new? Is that a reason to not come over??

Kook ❤️: if you’re worried bam will ruin them I’ll put him in his kennel before you get here?

Kook ❤️: baby?? Pleaseeeee

Y/N: sorry, I had to pee

Kook ❤️: please come over 🥺🥺🥺

Y/N: do you want to see?

Why was your boyfriend such a simp?

He was making seducing him so difficult.

You adored the man more than you could put into words but goodness he was persistent when he wanted something.

Kook ❤️: see what??

You tugged the robe open just a touch and revealed the deep burgundy bra that had your cleavage revealed just enough to be tantalizing.

Without giving yourself enough time to panic you snapped the picture of you on your knees in front of the mirror.

Using your last ounce of wine courage you hit send.

Timer Set: 15:00 minutes

Y/N: jpeg.9102

Seen

Oh Jesus.

What if he doesn’t like it?

You were about to scramble to cover your ass when your phone started ringing. You were so nervous you damn near launched the thing across the room in shock when you managed to answer it, you heard panting like someone was running.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

Jungkook’s rough voice filled your ears.

“I’m at home you weirdo, why are you-”

“You need to tell me right now if this means what I think it does because if not I don’t want to seem like an idiot... I legit ran down to my car, because if you want me there I’m coming right now. And I’m not going to let you sleep,” he growled.

Your thighs clenched at the aggressive sound from him. “I-I sent it because I wanted you to see, I-I wanted to show you I was ready,” you said, voice weak but needy.

“Then you sit on your bed and wait for me, I will be there in ten minutes-”

“Jungkook, you live almost halfway across the city it’s almost one in the morning baby-”

“Ten minutes,” he promised before hanging up.

You looked at your phone and paused your timer.

Time Remaining: 9:39 minutes

You sent a quick text to Yeri.

Y/N: Please wait to hear from me in approximately three business days...

✨Yeri✨: be safe, get that dick 👀👀👀

You went to brush your teeth and comb your hair when you heard your front door open and shut. Just as you turned around Jungkook was dropping his jacket in your bedroom as he shouldered his way into your small bathroom and pulled you in for a searing kiss.

With a soft yelp of surprise you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him kiss you with as much passion as he wanted. You returned it in kind. Jungkook wound his arms around your waist, hands gripping your robe and cupping the base of your spine as he backed you up against the counter.

“Baby,” you whispered against his lips as he pulled back for a split second to change the position of his head.

“You can’t attack me like that, no sudden provocative photos, my heart and dick almost exploded,” he said, kissing you again, the last of his sentence spoken into your own mouth.

You chuckled at his eagerness as he held you in his arms.

“Up on the counter,” he breathed, grabbing your thighs and practically dead lifting you onto the vanity and capturing your lips before your squeal could wake the entire apartment complex.

Thankfully, your apartment was at the end of the hall, and your neighbor was known to rarely be home.

But really you couldn’t care less, your boyfriend’s tongue was wicked and hot and currently working its way into your mouth. Jungkook grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him as he kissed you like it was his sole purpose in this life. Tongue swiping along yours before he nipped at your already swollen and pouty lower lip.

“Fuck... fuck I’m so hard,” he panted, resting his forehead against yours as he breathed heavily. You smoothed your hands over his shoulders and watched as they rose and fell in quick succession in time with his labored breaths.

“Yeah?” you whispered, voice stolen by his kiss.

“Baby you really have no idea,” he said, locking eyes with you as he cradled your neck. “I’m literally ready to fuck you stupid, but... But I want it to be special and-”

“Anything I do with you is special, Kook,” you said, cupping his cheek and giving him a sweet grin. “I love you.”

His eyes melted into a softer expression. “I love you too,” he said, kissing you much gentler than before, leaving sweet and soft kisses along your cheeks and planting one last firm one on your lips. “So, you want to do this?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the slickness in your panties becoming uncomfortable fast. “Yes, I want you,” you said.

Jungkook nodded and connected your lips again. “Do you want to use condoms or not?”

“No, I have the implant and I trust you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Give me everything, baby, I want all of you.”

He connected your mouths again in a desperate and messy kiss, pulling you in and helping you off the counter before he picked you up and had you wrap your legs around his small waist. You squeaked as he held you under your ass as he navigated the short jaunt back to your bed. You held his jaw as you kissed him more, threading your fingers into his thick hair at the base of his head.

With a happy sigh he sat down on your bed and you settled your knees on either side of his thighs. Your center was placed directly above his straining cock. Your hips jolted forwards just a touch at the sensation of his denim pants rubbing against your sensitive core.

“Ngh~ Jungkook,” you whimpered, kissing along his jaw and sucking tender marks into his skin. “Want to feel you, please,” you pouted.

With a smirk he fell back, laying flat against the bed and you fell over him, hands just above his shoulders as you crouched above his frame.

“Go ahead then, you can touch me wherever you want,” he said, a smug look on his face.

You bit your lip and looked at his shirt buttons. The top few were undone, no doubt from him lounging at home. With eager hands you planted your hips right on his lap causing him to huff in momentary bliss. You loosened the buttons and tugged the fabric from his pants and managed to toss the infernal thing onto your floor to be promptly forgotten.

You smoothed your hands over his stomach and chest, smiling before connecting your lips to his skin in tentative, wet kisses.

Jungkook sighed, bringing his hand to your cheek as goosebumps rose over his skin as you placed your lips along his stomach and up to his chest. You didn’t have a lot of experience, but you just wanted to appreciate him.

Your heart hammered against your chest as you brought your lips to his throat and neck. Your hand ran up his peck and you brushed your thumb across his nipple with heat settled in your face. Jungkook, however, was eager for any and all of your affection.

“Shit... such a good girl,” he breathed, heart thrumming in his chest rapidly.

Your thoughts wandered briefly at his reaction to your thumb on his nipple, you wondered if he’d ever be into clamps-

“Baby~” Jungkook whined softly at your lack of movement. “Don’t tease me, I can’t handle it right now,” he groaned.

“C-Can I suck on them?” you asked, thumb still caressing his tender and pebbled nub.

Jungkook swallowed hard as a pretty blush rose to his cheeks, the expression on his face as he nodded at you with a furrowed brow.

Slowly, you lathed your tongue across his pec before finding his nipple. Jungkook’s hips jolted at your soft and wet tongue swirling around his sensitive skin. And the growl he let out was pure sin, causing your thighs to clench instinctively.

“You have such a sweet little mouth,” he sighed, cradling your jaw as he tossed his head back in pleasure. You moved to the other nipple, sucking and nipping softly at his flushed flesh.

“Kook,” you purred against his skin, sucking a harsh love bite into his skin right after.

His hips kicked up again at the sharp pain of your teeth, but he moaned softly at your tender licks and kisses right after. Only to nip at him once more.

“Careful baby, you keep that up and I’m not gonna last,” he panted, blowing some of his hair out of his face.

“Feels good?” you asked, unintentionally rocking your hips as you sat up.

Jungkook gripped your waist, holding you still and you felt his cock throbbing through his fucking jeans. You weren’t sure if that was possible. Maybe it was your own needy core pulsing for him.

“S-Stop wriggling, if you grind on me one more time I’m gonna rip these stupid panties off and shove my cock in your pussy now,” he snarled, eyes shut tight.

His threatening tone made you clench hard. Your panties were ruined, probably beyond salvaging.

It was for a good cause.

“Want your cock in my pussy anyways,” you smirked, ready to roll your hips against his once more. Jungkook pressed his thumbs against your lower stomach as he grit his teeth.

“Baby, I’m trying really hard not to fuck you stupid on this bed right now. I’m ready to Edward in Twilight this bed I swear to fucking god-”

You snorted at his hilarity, before shifting your hips once more. Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you and he grinned. “Be that way.”

With a squeal you felt yourself being pitched backwards. You scrambled to grab onto Jungkook to avoid being literally yeeted off your own bed.

But, with the strength of some supernatural creature he managed to catch you and almost slam you underneath him.

His biceps were toned and strong above you, his scent fresh and calming in your nose. You looked up and saw his eyes boring into your own. They were just as bright as they always have been, but there was a depth you hadn’t seen before.

The longing that he held in his eyes was intense, causing your legs to squirm under him. Jungkook hooked his fingers into your panties and looked at you with the same intensity, but raised a brow.

Do you want to stop?

You shook your head and lifted your hips to help him ease the fabric off your legs.

Your bravado was slowly draining, the look in your boyfriend's eyes disabling you for a moment. He looked starving. You watched his expression simmer into barely constrained lust. His palms were smooth on your thighs, making your legs tremble in desire. His jaw clenched tightly, lip between his teeth as he tried to keep himself from shoving inside you without any prep.

But fuck...

Your pussy already had him weak.

Sweet lips that were puffy and eager, covered in your slick and Jungkook’s cock ached at the thought of getting to go in bare. He lowered himself down between your legs to place a sweet kiss on your core. You gasped softly at the sensation before looking at him with your pretty eyes.

“You okay, Y/N? Not too much?” he asked.

“N-No you’re okay I’ve just... I haven't done much,” you breathed. Jungkook nodded slowly, moving forward to connect your lips together.

“That’s okay, you tell me what feels good and we’ll go from there, yeah?” he asked, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your thighs.

You nodded with a smile, bringing him in for another hot kiss. Jungkook moaned against your lips as he cupped your sex. “So wet for me honey,” he cooed. You tugged your shirt and bra off in quick succession, almost getting tangled in them both but Jungkook was focused on an entirely different part of you.

With hungry eyes he moved in on your core once more. You gasped when his tongue met your wetness, and he moaned in bliss when he tasted your flavor flooding his mouth. “Fuck... fuck... Y/N, baby,” he sighed, licking firmly against your pulsing cunt.

“J-Jungkook,” you hiccuped in pleasure. “Please, more...”

His eyes connected with yours briefly before he grabbed your thighs and started to eat you out like a man possessed. You’d never felt pleasure this aching and desperate. Like everything he was doing was too much and yet not enough.

Jungkook was thoroughly fucked in almost every sense of the word. His heart hammered in his chest as he ate his best friend and beautiful girlfriend out. Everything about you had him practically hypnotized. He’d never felt so turned on.

The pair of you whined and groaned as he continued to pleasure you with his devilishly sweet lips.

He moved from your entrance to your clit and alternated his pressure, causing your mind to swirl in hypersensitive pleasure. But it was... so fucking good...

“K-Kook! B-Baby! M’gonna cum! Please... please let me cum,” you cried, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as he plunged two fingers into your entrance.

A sharp whine fell from your lips as you clamped down on his fingers while he worked you up to your peak of bliss.

“Then cum for me honey... Let me see you cum for me, wanna make you cream my face,” he growled deep in his chest.

With a glance at his face you felt your stomach clench hard due to his eagerness. You were worried he’d not be interested in this part of sex, but you loved him so much you weren’t honestly concerned about not enjoying sex with him.

However, just like always, Jungkook surprised you.

He almost seemed to get off on your pleasure, it wasn’t a chore to work you up like you’d worried about. And with the way he was rutting against the mattress you were wondering who was enjoying it more to be honest.

Then, he hooked his fingers up, pushing against your sweet spot.

After being held on the edge for so long... you were thrown off the cliff into your orgasm.

“Fuck! Jungkook! Fuck, fuck!”

You could hardly think of words to express your pleasure, let alone anything coherent.

Jungkook was encouraging you softly as he eased you through your pleasure. “My good girl, give it to me baby,” he purred, cleaning your center softly as you came down from your peak.

“Holy shit,” you panted, quickly bringing him up from your center to kiss you. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, mingling the flavor of you with his own distinct taste.

“You look so fucking pretty when you cum baby, I want to see you do it over and over again,” he groaned, cradling your face while you exchanged hot kisses.

After a while you started to run your hands down his stomach and to the waistband of his pants. He separated your kiss to look at you with a soft expression. “Want me?” he asked, his thumb running across your cheek with tender eyes.

You gave him a sweet smile and kissed him again. “Yes Jungkook,” you breathed against his lips. “I’m yours...”

He didn’t need any more encouragement from you, pulling his jeans off quickly and tossing them on the floor before you carefully put your hand inside his boxers. You could feel your hearts beating wildly inside your chests. Jungkook looked at you with hunger but love mixed in his eyes.

You felt yourself become more and more confident when you touched him, and also in being touched. It can be a hard thing to share your body with a person. But with Jungkook, everything has always been so natural and easy.

This was proving to be no different.

His hand fell over yours and gently guided you to squeeze and apply gentle pressure to his aching cock. His head tipped back as he let out soft puffs of air.

“F-Fuck, please Y/N, I’m aching baby, I need to put it in you,” he whined.

The sound of his pleading did something to you, causing more slick to leak from your core. To be wanting in such a deep way had your heart ready to fly away if your ribcage wasn’t there to stop it.

“Then put it in, want you,” you said, cheeks hot from all the intensity of your exchange.

Jungkook pushed his boxers off, revealing his cock to you and causing your eyes to widen. He wasn’t extremely massive. But he was definitely larger than the previous dick you’d experimented with. He led your hand to him, gently stroking his length with your soft hand and he sighed in pleasure.

“Feels so good baby, so hard for you,” he said, his eyebrow furrowed as he tried desperately to keep his composure.

You couldn’t believe you were here in this moment. With the person you loved more than anything, ready to share the last part of yourself with him. It made you emotional for a moment.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded.

Jungkook’s ears perked at your weaker tone, but when he saw the look in your eyes he knew you were just emotional. He gave you a small but sweet smile.

“Of course, Y/N, love kissing you,” he purred, placing little pecks around your shoulders and neck. Finally connecting your lips in a hot kiss.

His hand moved away from yours but you kept your hand on his cock and gave him a few tentative tugs. Jungkook bucked his hips forwards at the sensation rising up his spine and flooding his lower stomach. He’d been hard for so long he was worried he wasn’t going to last long. But something told him no matter the time, this was going to be special.

Just because it was you two.

“Okay, okay I’m ready baby,” you said.

Jungkook nodded, adjusting the two of you on the bed. He put a pillow behind your head and lifted your leg into the hook of one of his elbows.

He ran his cock against your slick folds to test your wetness, and to no surprise you were still soaked.

“Good baby, so wet for me... fuck,” he breathed. “Deep breath, relax for me Y/N, if it hurts just tell me, okay?”

You nodded, hand settling on his biceps. Jungkook gave you one more look for reassurance but you squeezed his arms in confirmation before he pushed in slowly.

A gasp ripped from your throat as he entered you. You breathed slowly and deeply as he carefully seated himself inside you. You gripped his shoulders and pulled him in for another kiss when he finally slid home.

He kissed you softly, giving tender nips and wet pecks to your neck and jaw.

“Good girl, fucking so hot and wet on my cock... fuck-fuck Y/N,” he moaned into your neck.

You didn’t even have words to describe how good he felt. It was as if this was always meant to happen, like you and him were always going to end up here at this moment.

“Kook~” you mewled, biting your lip as he gave you a moment to adjust.

“Does it hurt, baby?” he asked, smoothing his thumb over your cheek.

“N-No... just full!” you whined, the pleasure of him being inside of you finally settling in. “You can move baby, please fuck me...”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice, starting an easy rhythm that had the two of you sighing in bliss. With a deft movement Jungkook hooked both of your knees around the crook of his elbows as he started to build a steady pace that had your stomach clenching in pleasure.

“So good baby, so good,” he panted, rolling his hips against yours with purpose.

You moved your hands down to his lower stomach as he steadily quickened his thrusts inside of you. With needy whines you let him guide you through this experience. His eyes were locked on yours while he drove home inside you each time.

“Kook! Fuck,” you cried, head falling back against the pillow.

“Right here Y/N,” he called softly, his voice slightly breathless now that he’d been fucking you. “Fuck... you’re soaking my cock baby. Look so pretty letting me fuck you like this.”

He adjusted your legs so you were laying to one side, your legs pressed together as he held your hips to thrust into you faster.

“F-Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer,” he grit his teeth.

The new position had you speechless.

He felt so thick inside you, pounding against your walls as more and more slick leaked from you. You could feel it on your legs. And the deep throbbing ache inside you was looming over your head as he continued to fuck you senseless.

“Me too!” you whined, reaching for his wrists as he kept his brutal pace on you.

“Gonna cum for me again? Please cum for me baby, need to see you,” he begged, panting harshly at the sheer need swirling in his stomach. “Gonna let me cum inside? Let me fill up your sweet cunt baby?”

You nodded, a bobble head effect to your features as you watched him with watery eyes. The pleasure was rushing up your neck and seemingly scrambling what was left of the brains he hadn’t fucked out of you yet.

“Inside, Jungkook! Need it!” you sobbed, pleasure suffusing every ounce of you as you felt yourself crash over the edge into another-intense-orgasm.

Jungkook wasn’t far behind you, the hot rush of euphoria flooding his spine as he came hard inside of you. He rutted a few more times while growling deep in his throat. You felt so good on his cock and he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you this way.

Especially after everything you’d been through together.

But that’s what made it even better in his mind.

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here.

You both let your breaths even out until he was pulling from your core slowly, watching with lustful eyes as his cum slowly dribbled from your puffy pussy.

Jungkook kissed you then, surprisingly soft and tender as he felt his heart beat even out into the gentle flutter it usually was with you around. He smiled against your lips as you kissed him back.

“I love you so much, Y/N, more than anything...” he whispered.

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you said.

“You’re my best friend, and the best girlfriend, you make me so happy...” he trailed off.

Usually Jungkook was affectionate, but sometimes he got this emotional spurt where he just gushed about how lucky he was. And how much he loved you.

It was sweet and endearing, and you were similarly affected.

“You’re my best friend too. And the best boyfriend,” you said, a cheeky smile working its way onto your face.

Jungkook’s features lit up at your statement. He leaned down once more, pulling you close as the pair of you kissed again.

The night was dragging on, but inside your little apartment you knew that Jungkook would always choose you.

And you would choose him.

Always.

#bangtan sorciere #btsafterdarknet #52hertz #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #BTS #Bangtan #Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook #Jungkook X Reader #Jungkook smut #BTS fanfic #BTS smut #BTS fanfiction #Jessika Hathaway #BFFs to lovers #Bff Jungkook #Reader insert

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jeonqkooks · 7 months

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @wintaerbaer, and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself

New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler

The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again.

His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.

Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties.

You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.

“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”

“Want you…”

“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.

“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.

“I want you.”

Truth.

You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”

If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.

He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.

Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.

“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”

“You were drinking.”

“I’m not drunk. I promise.”

Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.

He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.

You haven’t seen him like this in so long.

Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.

He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.

Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.

Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.

“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time.

“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.

Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.

His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”

You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”

Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.

He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins.

“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”

You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come.

His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily,

Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.

This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.

No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.

Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.

“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.

He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.

The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.

He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.

Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.

But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.

“Are you clean?” you ask.

It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.

“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”

He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.

“How long has it been?”

Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes.

“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.

For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.

Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.

He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.

His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit.

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.

“You can move,” you say after a while.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”

He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.

You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.

No, this is something else entirely.

I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.

“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.

“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”

“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.

You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.

He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.

How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.

“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.

“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.

He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”

Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.

You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”

The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”

“Mean it.”

“I do mean it. I love you.”

Truth.

For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.

Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.

“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.

You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.

But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.

You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.

“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Jungkook groans at your answer.

He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline.

He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so.

Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.

You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all.

When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.

He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.

The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.

Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.

When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.

It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.

Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.

“Anything.”

You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”

Truth. You know it’s the truth.

Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”

The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.

But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.

He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.

It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.

The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.

You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.

“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.

He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.

Are you gone forever?

Come back quietly.

“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.

The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.

“What?”

“How old are you?” you repeat.

It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”

"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."

His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.

No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.

“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”

Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.

He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time.

You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.

There’s more to it, and you need to know.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.

You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.

A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.

What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.

Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.

He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.

He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.

Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.

When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.

Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?

Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.

It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.

It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.

She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.

“If you love her, you would let her go.”

Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.

He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.

Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.

The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.

Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.

He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do?

She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.

That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.

He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.

July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.

You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.

You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.

“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.

Again with the apologies.

Fuck this.

It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.

You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.

He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?

“Y/N, wait-”

“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”

He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”

You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.

“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“What?”

“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”

Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.

It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.

“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.”

He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.

He might bruise in the morning.

You hope he bruises in the morning.

The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.

You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.

But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.

Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.

This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.

The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.

You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?

“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”

You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.

You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”

It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.

“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can��t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...

In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.

“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”

up next...

our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter

690 notes · View notes

joheunsaram · 2 years

Text

On With The Show (knj)

summary: Eight years after announcing their retirement, Dark & Wild seems to have been left behind. For Namjoon, he could never forget the time his dreams became a reality, and he's determined to retake the charts by storm once again. Struggling with raising a teenage daughter, the loss of his wife and poor writing projects with terrible bands, he’s now had enough. So with a little help from the only remaining active fan site, he embarks on a mission to convince his bandmates that a comeback might not be the mid life crisis they think it is.

word count- 33.9k (🥴💀)

pairing- retired bassist!Namjoon x lawyer!Reader

rating- R

genre- rockstar!au, s2f2l, fluff, smut, angst, slight slow burn, single dad!au

warnings- retired!bangtan, dilf!joon, lowkey making fun of Mötley Crüe but not really, recreational drug use, drug overdose, hospitals, minor character death, depression, protected sex, oral (m and f receiving), too many song references (namjoons catalogue mainly), soft soft joon, joon is dad to a 16yo, jungkook is a shameless dedicated dad to twins, joon is 36, invasion of privacy, lots of talk about being famous

playlist- don’t//aeon ft rm, ny state of mind//nas, bicycle//rm, spring day//bts, always//rm, human behaviour//bjork, death with dignity//sufjan stevens, seoul//rm, outro//maanu, heavenly//cigarettes after dark, trivia love//bts, on with the show//motley crue, war of hormones//bts

a.n- this fic is part of the Can’t Be Tamed collab hosted by @jeonjcngkook. please check out the other fics in the collab, they are all amazing!

I’m very excited to share this fic with all of you! it’s been in the making for a very long time and is the longest one shot I’ve written yet. Hope you enjoy this story and that you remember never to let your inner fan girl down! Hehe💕💕

special s/o to @raplinesmoon and @playmetheclassics for beta reading this for me and to @mapleglasses27 and @bluewhale52 for hyping me up and brainstorming with me! i honestly don’t know what i would do without you all! ily 🥺

Banner by the ever talented @hobeemin 💕😍

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

The guitar riff crashed through the speakers, loud and chaotic, distorted to a growl that got the heart beating. Notes cascaded over each other as if chasing themselves in a circle like kids in a park. Soon after, the drums and bass joined them, high hat crashing in time with the snare, the strings of the bass slapping against fingers, pinging loud and clear. A destructive medley morphing into a foot-stomping melody that bounced off the soundproof walls bringing a smile to Namjoon’s face.

A smile that dropped as soon as the vocalist started singing the verse.

“What are the colours of the skies really? They're bright black when falling apart Were our drifts back then okay?”

With a scowl, Namjoon straightened in his seat, turning off the recording,and hitting the button for the mic. The band seemed unbothered as they kept playing, bobbing their heads to the music. It would be commendable how absorbed they were in the music, if they weren’t completely fucking up Namjoon’s song. He cleared his throat into the mic, thankful for the abrupt silence.

“Vince, for the last fucking time. Those are not the lyrics,” Namjoon said, only to be met with an eye roll that boiled his blood. The audacity of these rookies was too high. They had barely debuted two years ago and somehow their egos seemed to have grown infinitely larger.

“And for the last fucking time, man. These work better,” Vince argued through the guitar pick secured between his teeth, using a tattooed hand to push his bright purple hair back. He looked to the three men next to him for support and all of them agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Well everyone except the lead guitarist, Mick, who as per usual was just staring into space, expression as vacant as Vince’s head.

“How do they make sense? What’s fucking bright black? And the colours of the sky?” Namjoon questioned, frustration making itself known from the tick of his jaw as he tried not to explode.

He hated this band. He hated this job. His name held a lot of weight in the industry, and he couldn’t fathom how he had even gotten to where he was right now; writing songs for an over entitled bunch of kids half his age.

Much like any other person in the music industry, Namjoon started with a dream. Well, a dream and a threat from his mom. When he was sixteen, his mother had looked him straight in the eye and given him one year to go out into the real world and make money from the music his friends kept playing in her garage, and if he was unsuccessful, he was to pick up his studies and continue on her dream of him becoming an engineer. And well, Namjoon was a stubborn, talented kid.

Within six months, his band had not only signed onto a label, but Dark and Wild had successfully started preparations for their debut album, one that charted number one worldwide and convinced his mother that the noise he was always playing was worth something.

That number one album turned into platinum, and then so did the next three albums. By the time Namjoon was twenty-two, he was the bassist of the hottest band in the world, his songs being chanted by people of all ages, all races.

World tours, whirlwind romances, and new hotel rooms every weekend became the norm. At the peak of his career, Namjoon was an ambassador for four luxury brands, three alcohol companies, and one electronics conglomerate, his face plastered over billboards from New York to Seoul to Paris. That was also when he became a husband and a proud father to the world’s most beautiful baby girl.

And then, merely a few years later, he lost the love of his life and his band in the span of four months. It wasn’t dramatic, it was life. Everything happens for a reason, and Namjoon believed that for him that reason was the beautiful girl his wife had gifted him.

If his band hadn’t called it quits, he would have never spent time raising her, learning how to be the best dad and learning the way his daughter’s brain worked, so intricate and creative that he sometimes got tears in his eyes just thinking about the fact that he was responsible for creating someone so extraordinary.

Which is why the fact that the bunch of kids in the studio were talking about her made his blood boil, his jaw tensing from all the expletives he wanted to throw at them.

“Dude I can’t believe you picked this boomer cause of his daughter!” Vince taunted his bandmate as he laughed, his nasal snort pumping through the vein now throbbing on Namjoon’s forehead.

“What can I say, man, that chick’s fucking hot, and the way she drums. God damn!” Tommy, the drummer, professed, his hands still holding the sticks now coming to rest on his chest as he leaned back on the stool, the bandana on his head falling backwards with the movement.

Raising a child alone in his mid-twenties had taught Namjoon a lot of things, most of all patience, but he was of the firm belief that not even Buddha would have kept his cool at Tommy’s next words.

“Yo Namjoon! You gotta bring her to the next session. I can really teach her how to bang those drums, if you know what I mean,” he answered with a smile as slimy as his greasy hair, and Namjoon couldn’t help exploding out of his chair, his notebook scattering to the ground as he swiftly made his way to the door of the recording room.

However, before he could pummel that disrespectful worm into the ground, the producer next to him was on his feet, holding him back, his small stature no match for Namjoon’s large build. Seeing red, Namjoon scrambled for the door, falling to the ground and in the process taking the innocent producer down with him. All while the band laughed at him. Generation Swine, what a fitting name for a bunch of pigs.

“Yo boss, you need this gig right?” the producer wheezed from under him, trying to calm down Namjoon with rationality but he didn’t know Namjoon. Thinking about the multiple zeros in his checking account and even more in his investments, his vision cleared, a calm surrounding him.

“I don’t actually,” Namjoon replied, getting back up and helping his coworker with an apology, before he turned back to the band with a condescending smile plastered on his face.

“I quit. And my contract says I can take back my songs. Enjoy an empty album, fuckers.”

With a middle finger in the air, he picked up his messenger bag resting on the couch and his notebook and strolled out. Why hadn’t he just done this before?

—-------

Even though he was notoriously a punk rock artist, nothing calmed Namjoon down more than old school hip-hop, and so as he drove to pick up his daughter, he blasted Nas, rapping along at the top of his lungs.

“Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes Y'all know my steelo, with or without the airplay I keep some E&J, sitting bent up in the stairway.”

It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had been spending hours everyday pouring himself into music that was insightful and poetic, only to be stonewalled by a bunch of unwashed children who thought what punk really was.

Did they really think watering down his lyrics would make them more relatable? He’d been going back and forth with the Swine for months, and yet they didn’t understand that music didn’t really mean anything unless it said something.

Anyone could string together a melody and talk about fucking and destroying property but the greats always had something to say, something to change. They didn’t chase empty avenues with mixed messages, they took a stand. That’s what punk was, not a distorted guitar with the goal to get laid. He knew that at sixteen and he knew that now at thirty-six.

Real music changed lives.

As the track changed to a more mellow beat, he let his fingers tap the steering wheel, cautiously turning into the cul-de-sac and waiting for the gate to Jungkook’s obscenely secure mansion to open before driving down the long driveway. Driving to his house always made him a little nostalgic, mostly because he was proud that his youngest bandmate had finally settled down from his much wilder days, but also because Jungkook’s home always felt like his home.

It was where he had spent much of his time after the band disbanded, his deep depression and the sudden sole responsibility of a six-year old turning him into a useless shell of a human. He would always be grateful to Jungkook for taking him in when he was at his worst and coaxing him out of the darkness. He shuddered to think of how much worse he would have gotten if he hadn’t had the courage to run to Jungkook eight years ago with his daughter in his arms and tears cascading down his face.

He smiled a little, eyes turning to the big box of gourmet donuts he had picked up for his friend’s family. Parking near the front door, he picked up the box, only to be interrupted by the ringing of his phone, the usually calming chimes grating his nerves when he saw his manager’s name light up the screen.

“What Sejin?”

“Don’t what Sejin me! You quit? Are you kidding me?” The usually cheery man yelled through the line, his exasperation easily conveyed through the static.

“Yup,” Namjoon replied stubbornly, popping the syllable at the end, still too happy to have left that band of wannabes behind to be bothered by the scolding he could see coming. “I realised, I’m literally a millionaire. I don’t need this job.”

“Literally a- Again, are you kidding me?!” Sejin sputtered, and Namjoon grimaced as he heard some of his spit land on the speaker. “You do realise you signed a contract right? A two-year contract, to write for them, exclusively?”

“And?” Namjoon egged him on. “There’s that clause right? That I can pay damages or whatever?”

“They are claiming that those ‘damages or whatever’ are over five million dollars! You either lawyer up, or you go apologise to the band.”

Namjoon snorted at the absurdity. The only way anyone could get him to apologize to that bunch of talentless fuckers was if they animated his dead body with Frankensteinian magic. Not wanting to spoil his good mood, he locked his car and made his way to the front door..

“Send me a list of lawyers,” he said curtly before hanging up on a seething Sejin. He should’ve been worried, or at the very least concerned, by a threat from a very large and influential record label, but Namjoon was finally free and nothing was going to get him down. Not when as soon as he rang the bell, he was greeted by his daughter, a large grin on her face, the dimples that matched his etching deeper into her cheeks.

“Dad! You know you don’t have to drive slow even on a driveway, right?” she teased, giving her father a side hug and greedily reaching for the box of doughnuts, which he raised above his head.

“Moonie, these are for the twins!” he chastised, returning her hug and ruffling her hair only to annoy her, chuckling as she whined at him.

“Joon! You gotta stop bringing sweets! I’m gonna lose my abs!” Jungkook shouted from the foyer, walking over with one of his boys in his arms, the other running behind him. Jun-seo copied his father as he pulled a wincing Jungkook’s hair, and Namjoon couldn’t stop cackling at how cute “I’m gonna lose my abs!” sounded coming from a three-year old’s mouth.

He greeted his friend before leaning down and swooping Hyeon from the ground in his arms, trying to make conversation with the shyer twin as his daughter took the box of doughnuts, opening to look for her favourite. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to coax him into having dinner with his family, laughing at the way Moon sighed in relief of not having to endure her father’s terrible cooking for the night.

Nothing could be more relaxing than having dinner with his closest friends and his daughter, Namjoon thought as he helped Jungkook’s wife wash the dishes, taking care not to let any of his clumsier tendencies shine through. There were only so many of her dishes he could break before she would ban him from the house completely. He smiled as she told him about her day and how the twins had somehow started a paint war with the neighbouring kindergarten class, resulting in her trying to talk the principal out of suspending them.

“They can suspend someone in kindergarten?” he asked, incredulous, wiping the last of the dishes and pouring himself a glass of water.

“You know how people are, Joon. Just cause we have our personal lives plastered all over they assume that we can’t parent,” she sighed, joining him at the breakfast nook, a sad smile on her face. “That’s why I’ve been so against nannies, you know… Because what if they’re right?”

“Hey they aren’t right. You and Jungkook are great parents,” he squeezed her shoulder as he consoled her, happy to see her smile more genuinely at his compliment.

“And we don’t need babysitters cause we have Moon,” she said, looking up at him with a mischievous smirk her sons had inherited from her before she softened. “You’re a great parent too, Joon.”

Namjoon’s heart warmed at her words. He had often thought that perhaps a lack of a mother would make Moon lonely, make her want a more stable female presence. He was happy that Jungkook’s wife had filled that role for her somewhat, acting like a mother even when she didn’t have to, from teaching her about periods to gossiping with her about boys. Things that Namjoon still found a bit awkward to connect with Moon about. It was not that he was bad at it, it was just that he had never experienced those things himself, so who was he to teach her about them?

The heartfelt moment was interrupted by Jungkook entering the kitchen, a scowl on his face as he looked at Namjoon.

“You quit?” Jungkook asked, voice strained as he poked the inside of his cheek. Namjoon could feel that his friend was angry but he was still too ecstatic from leaving that dreadful job behind, so he just smiled, nodding in response.

“They are gonna sue you! Are you serious?” Jungkook seethed, confusing Namjoon who couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was so upset, especially when he already had an amazing back up plan. At least not until his next words left him, making Namjoon bow his head in shame.

“You have Moon to think about. Do you think she’d like the media circus?”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore,” he exhaled, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he came clean about his outburst, the days of building frustration as the band took his hard work lightly and spent hours drinking and getting high instead of working.

Jungkook seemed to soften as he spoke, and Namjoon couldn’t help but take the melting of his anger as encouragement as he continued, letting him into his backup plan, “We were so much more serious than them. We had a work ethic. We still could… Would it be so bad if Dark and Wild got together again?”

“P-pardon?” Jungkook sputtered at Namjoon’s words, coughing as he tried to wrap his mind around a comeback. Turns out Namjoon’s plan wasn’t foolproof and his heart fell as his friend vehemently disagreed, not wanting to be away from the twins to be back on the rock and roll train. He missed that life too, but unlike Namjoon, he had made his peace with it, happy to let it go to be a full-time father.

“I was a dad when the band was together,” Namjoon argued, not willing to let go of his renewed dream.

“And look what happened to Seo!” Jungkook spat, instantly regretting his words as Namjoon’s face fell. However, no matter how quickly Jungkook apologised, Namjoon couldn’t listen, the grief he had buried away clawing at his chest again. With a curt goodbye amongst the apologies, he asked Moon to follow him and made his way to the car.

“Dad… you okay?” Moon asked, once they were on the way home, worried about the way her father sat in silence when usually she would have a hard time making him shut up.

She knew he got this way occasionally, too deep in his head, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was whenever he missed her mom, and so when she didn’t hear a response, she leaned over, placing a hand over his on the steering wheel to loosen his grip.

Namjoon smiled at her, a hand leaving the wheel to squeeze her fingers between his. Sometimes he forgot that she wasn’t a kid anymore, that she was mature, empathetic almost to a fault, able to read his mind with just a look.

Namjoon promised himself that he would always be honest with her, be it about his feelings or things happening in his life. He had kept his promise whenever she would ask about her mom as a lost six year old and he kept his promise now as he told his sixteen year old about the argument he had just had with Jungkook.

In a lot of ways it helped him process the conversation, coming to terms with Jungkook’s fear from Moon’s insight. She was right when she said that it had less to do with blaming Namjoon when he was away from her mother, but more to do with her uncle’s fears of the same happening to his wife, no matter how irrational the thought was.

Namjoon couldn’t help but stare at her, mouth falling open in shock.

“Tell me again how you’re only in tenth grade?” he teased. “When did you get your psychology degree?”

“Come on dad. No one really needs university nowadays. You can just learn everything from Re-”

“You’re going to university. I don’t care how much Reddit can teach you,” Namjoon interrupted, eyes narrowed as he pulled into his designated parking space in the lot under their apartment. “You can get a real degree and then you can be my therapist.”

“I can’t be your therapist,” she huffed, crossing her arms with a scowl that reminded him of her mother so much he couldn’t help but smile. “That's a conflict of interest!”

He burst out laughing at her words, getting out of the car and helping her carry the multiple boxes of food Jungkook had prepared for the two of them, insisting that they take them despite the cold exit. Moon melted at her father’s joy, punching the code for the top floor as she adjusted her backpack. When the doors closed, she looked at him grinning widely.

“You know, War of Hormones is going viral on TikTok,” she commented, laughing at the way Namjoon groaned at the mention of his slightly cringey debut single. “I think you guys still have fans. A lot of them. People are still making thirst traps of all of you.”

“What’s thirst traps?” Namjoon asked as the private elevator opened up to their apartment, the smell of cedar and sandalwood calming him after a stressful day.

“You know like this,” she said, following her father into the kitchen and placing the boxes on the counter before pulling out her phone and scrolling through the app. She handed Namjoon the phone and he had to stop his eyes from falling to the floor at the video in front of him.

Set to an extremely horny rap about wanting someone’s dumptruck in their little garage was a video of Hoseok thrusting into the air as he sang into the mic, following by a close up of Jungkook as he took his shirt off and threw it into the crowd, just as it moved to a video of Yoongi licking up the strings of his guitar, a smirk on his face as he made eye contact with the camera.

Then there was Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung at one of their sold out shows, ripping the buttons of their shirts simultaneously while winking at the crowd, and Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh at the how stupid they looked. The last clip was of him holding Moon as he brought her two-year old self on stage, big yellow muffs protecting her ears from the noise as he let her strum on his bass.

“Wait, why am I the only one not being sexy?” he questioned, frowning.

“I don’t know. I guess people love you being a dad,” she shrugged, taking her phone back, laughing at how ridiculous all of her uncles looked during their glory days, before looking at her father and giving him a tight hug. “I love you too, dad. And I think you still have a lot of fans who’d love a comeback.”

Namjoon’s heart dissolved in his chest, filled with warmth as he kissed the top of his daughter’s head, returning her hug ten fold, squeezing her to his chest as she squirmed. That night after she had gone to bed, Namjoon researched his fans. If Moon thought that fans still existed, maybe he could convince the guys to give the comeback a shot. They always did love Shadows more than anything.

Scrolling through numerous web pages, he stumbled on to a fansite that was surprisingly still active, posting periodic updates about Dark and Wild’s current careers, as well as edits of their old selves, and pleading for a comeback. Perhaps the way to his band member’s hearts was a heartfelt plea from a Shadow, and how apt that the username was yummyjungkookie.

His scrolling through nostalgia was interrupted by a text from his manager, a list of lawyers that were fit to go over his case with him. Picking the first name, he sent an appointment request.

However, not before messaging yummyjungkookie and asking for a meeting.

—-------

With a heavy exhale, you entered your apartment, leaving your heels haphazardly by the front door and your bag littered on the floor. Today had been an exceptionally stressful day and you could feel every joint in your body creak as you laid on the couch. Stretching, you thought about the weird email you had received. Well, two very weird emails.

Somehow when you started working in corporate law, you wouldn’t have thought your trajectory would lead to working on celebrity contracts. Initially it was an easy choice; getting paid exorbitant amounts of money for advising clients and looking over contract disputes that usually never ended in court. However, now you were tired of behind the scene action. You wanted to see inside of a courtroom again, to argue, to research prior cases that would help you form the perfect closing statements. There was a thrill to fighting a case in the courts, and you envied your friends from university who were working on class action suits against greedy landlords and other corporate vultures.

Today was supposed to be the day you gave in your two week notice, to pursue something less money-based. It was a privileged position, but you were a single woman in her early thirties, and with your last relationship burning to the ground, you often looked at your ever increasing savings account with disdain, as if your ambition was responsible for Ryan cheating. But when you walked into your firm’s partner’s office with your resignation letter in hand, he convinced you otherwise by handing you a new case.

It wasn’t a particularly exciting case, a pretty straightforward contract violation, but the moment you heard who you would be representing, you couldn’t go through with your plan. Your younger self would have murdered you if you did so.

You could see your nineteen year old self, decked out in the Dark and Wild merch that still lived in your closet, standing behind your boss as he talked about the case. Because you would be representing none other than Namjoon Kim, notorious bassist of Dark and Wild. Even though he was arguably your least favourite member, considering that he used to be a bit goofy and a little bit of fuckboy even with a kid, you would carry on your duty as a loyal fan and get him out of this bind.

After all, once a Shadow, always a Shadow.

You were somewhat a menace in undergrad, from almost missing exams because the band was doing an album signing, to following them on tour each summer, to even getting their lyrics tattooed on your ribcage.

You chronicled your interactions with them in your blog with high quality photos, which became almost notorious in the Shadow circle, your followers skyrocketing with their fame. In a way their disbandment was a blessing for you, you were not sure how you would have dealt with the workload of law school if you were still keeping up with them.

Groaning you rose from the couch, deciding a drink would help calm you down. Pouring yourself a glass of cabernet, you settled back on the couch, opening your blog on your laptop and staring at the other email you had received out of the blue.

Either Namjoon Kim was stalking you or this eerie coincidence was the fruit of years of obsessive manifestation. However, if it was, it would be Jungkook Jeon emailing you. You wondered if he still had those fantastic abs from back in the day. God, those things could cut glass.

Controlling your sudden thirst, you took another sip of your wine, thinking best to reply to the email you had received.

Hi yummyjungkookie. You’re probably wondering why I’m messaging you. Well, I have a proposition. I was wondering since you are the only active fan site we have left, if you’d be interested in helping us do an analysis of current fan culture, well Shadow culture. Let me know and we can set up a meeting! -Namjoon PS: In case you think this is a troll, here’s a photo proof

Below his email was a photo attached of the man himself, round glasses making him look younger than his age with a card on which the date and time was haphazardly written.

You laughed at how seriously he had taken the request, although you were sure you would not have believed him if he didn’t attach the proof. Your laughs only got louder as you read the next message he had sent.

Oh shit. I guess I should also say, please don’t tell people about this. You won't, right? -Namjoon

“What are you cackling at?” your roommate, Hera, questioned as she stepped out of her room, hair a mess as if she had just woken up. Well, knowing her, she probably had. She was notoriously nocturnal, being a freelance artist had that effect.

“Nothing. Just a meme,” you replied, somehow endeared enough by the email to keep it a secret. Hera walked over to the couch, yawning and reaching for your glass, taking a big swig and ignoring your scowl. You loved Hera. You had been friends since law school, but somehow as soon as she dropped out of law school she had become a little overbearing.

“Alright. What’s for dinner?” she asked, stretching her limbs out on the couch as she leaned back and turned on the television. You rolled her eyes at her, getting up to finally change.

“I already ate after work,” you pouted to get off the hook easier before apologising and going to your room.

“Ugh. I guess I’ll go on a date then. Enjoy your sad nostalgia blogging, you loner,” she called from the living room, grating your nerves as you locked yourself in your room, waiting for her to leave, so you could order food and not share. It may be petty but you were tired of paying for her meals, on top of paying for the rent.

—-------

“Wait so you called us all here to ask us to get the band back together?” Yoongi asked, eyes scrunched in disbelief. Or the early hour, Namjoon wasn’t sure. To be fair, Namjoon should’ve seen the reaction coming, considering how Jungkook had reacted, but he still had hope.

Namjoon had spent the past two days going over the fansite he had found and it encouraged him to set up the brunch meeting with his friends. If a stranger was working so hard to keep their fans engaged, shouldn’t they also do something. Didn’t they owe their fans something? Apparently the argument wasn’t as convincing as he thought it would be.

“Okay I’m not saying I’m fully against a comeback, but come on Joon. We’re has-beens… Shadows don’t even exist anymore,” Seokjin said, sipping a mimosa, freshly tanned from an impromptu trip to the Maldives.

“Speak for yourself. I will never be a has-been,” Jimin sneered, cutting into his eggs before spouting about how his singles were still reaching number one.

“That’s cause you went pop,” Taehyung argued with a grimace, pretending to throw up into his frittata, just as the waitress came by to ask if they needed anything else.

“That’d be all. Thank you,” Jungkook answered her with a huge smile just to watch her blush, and Namjoon couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the man. Perhaps bringing the chaotic group together was a bad idea. Perhaps bringing them to a high end restaurant where the average diner was a retired businessman was an even worse idea as he tried to make his friends lower their volume, especially Hoseok who was very loudly protesting that his very full schedule of production didn’t have any room for a comeback.

“Guys!” Namjoon snapped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. “Just please think it over–”

“It would take so long though. We don’t even have any songs… I haven’t even picked up the guitar in a while,” Seokjin interrupted, the mimosas taking their effect and turning his face a flushed red, as he looked sadly at the tablecloth, and Namjoon couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. He knew the disbandment was his fault. If he had handled things better at home, they wouldn’t have lost their friend to the chaos of the lifestyle, and Moon would still have her mom. Thinking about it lodged a lump in his throat as he tried to console the group with the only solution he could think of.

“I have three albums worth of songs written,” he declared quietly, biting his lip and looking for a reaction, only for Yoongi to speak up.

“I may or may not also have two albums worth.”

“Same,” Hoseok and Jimin spoke at the same time, and Namjoon couldn’t help smiling at how even though everyone had apparently put Dark and Wild behind them, they still couldn’t let go.

“So do you guys think we can do it?” Namjoon asked hopefully, trying not to be dejected by the way Jungkook stared at his hands, deep in thought, fingers tracing the tattoos on his knuckles. The response from the rest of the men was lukewarm as it was in the beginning but somehow now they were all reminiscing too, talking about their glory days. About the time Jimin stripped on a bartop as a dare. About the time Jungkook got so high he thought the television was recording him so he did the most rational thing he could think of and tossed it out of their 40th floor hotel room window. About the time Namjoon ran away so fast from a groupie that he had missed that the glass door wasn’t open and smashed right through it – he still had a scar on his right collarbone from it. Somehow through the road of nostalgia, a little glimmer of excitement started growing, like the embers of a campfire dying out, but needing just the right gust of wind to relight.

“But what if we don’t have the same appeal now… We’re definitely not young anymore,” Seokjin said quietly, as if he was scared to voice out his thoughts, and Namjoon couldn’t help reaching out to him, placing a hand on top of his in a form of encouragement. He had the same fears. A band in their twenties was the norm, in their thirties, on the other hand…

Perhaps they were all being silly. Thirty wasn’t old by any means but the music industry was especially vicious when it came to age. However, Namjoon tried to put the question of their sex appeal to rest as he pulled out the fansite he had stumbled on earlier, sharing the seemingly unlimited ‘thirst’ posts from the blogger, much to the men’s amusement.

“Well I trust this person,” Jungkook said after a thorough scroll, earlier mood seemingly lightened. “I am in fact yummy.”

“And I really am World Wide Handsome,” Seokjin gloated, much to everyone’s annoyance.

“I contacted her,” Namjoon said carefully, hoping he wasn’t about to get a scolding, and when he received only curious looks, he continued. “I’m thinking we can get her opinion. A real Shadow’s opinion. Perhaps she has friends. She could really let us know if the fans are for us or not. Under an NDA, of course!”

“How do you know she won’t just be wishing for us to be back together?” Yoongi sighed, remembering the almost obsessive tendencies his fans had.

“You know that one fan that wrote a whole essay defending our disbandment?” Namjoon asked a bunch of nodding heads. “This is the one.”

“I can’t believe they published someone called yummyjungkookie in the New York Times,” Hoseok laughed, his contagious cackles cracking everyone else up as well, before the laughter petered into silence.

“Let’s see what she says, and then we can decide,” Jungkook ended the conversation decidedly, before the bill came and all seven men started arguing about who was going to pay, no one willing to put their credit card away much to the waitress’s chagrin.

—-------

Off the high of the semi-successful brunch, Namjoon couldn’t sit still in the lawyer’s plush office. He looked around, tapping his feet. It was a nice office, personal yet professional, warm with deep oak furniture and shelves full of law books and fiction alike.

A giant desk took up the northern end, in front of the glass wall that overlooked the city, a big leather chair seemingly belonging to the lawyer in question facing the desk. There were a few posters on the walls, classic movies as well as music festivals. A couch sat in the corner with potted monsteras, magazines scattered on the glass coffee table.

Namjoon felt oddly comfortable, but that might be because he was certain the lawyer used the same candles that littered his home, the soft pinewood scent relaxing him. Eyes roaming to read the titles of the books on the shelf, he couldn’t stop smiling at the little windchime attached to the corner.

People wouldn’t know it at a glance, but if you knew it was unmistakably his band’s merch – limited edition merch at that. He wondered if the lawyer he was meant to meet was a fan, or if they were just so old that they had received it from their children and put it up. Namjoon was pretty proud that the windchime he had designed was given a place in a room where everything seemed to be carefully handpicked.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon heard the slightly raspy voice call out, and he stood up to greet the person. However, he was a little taken aback when his eyes met yours, his throat running a little dry and his nerves spiking for no reason. Well no reason other than his immediate attraction to you.

It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a simple red suit and a pair of black heels. His eyes traced your features of their own accord, lingering at the little necklace that nestled between your collarbones, and the wisps of your hair that lined your eyebrows.

“Mr. Kim?” you asked, and a furious flush rose up his cheeks as he realised he hadn’t answered. Stuttering a response, he sat down at your insistence, agreeing to a coffee that you rang your assistant for. If you were a fan, you didn’t seem to give it away, jumping right into business as you talked about loopholes in the contract that could get Namjoon off with minimal penance.

While Namjoon was nodding along, pretending not to pay attention to the way your fingers looked so delicate pointing out the different clauses in the document, you were internally screaming. It took everything you had to keep your cool.

You had imagined that it would be business as usual meeting one of the guys you had spent most of your youth following around but your heart had other plans, beating stupidly fast. Even if Namjoon wasn’t your favourite member, it was still Namjoon Kim of Dark and Wild.

You could tell he wasn’t paying attention to whatever you were saying, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were boring him. You tried to lighten up the dry vernacular with a few jokes that went unnoticed, so you tried to shock him into listening at the end of your meeting.

“Ah, now that we’re done. Let’s talk about your proposition,” you commented off handedly, watching as he looked at you with rapt attention, biting his lip. Was he nervous?

The thought made you laugh. Why would he be nervous? You already explained that the case was easy to settle. It was pretty run of the mill. Contrary to popular belief, a lot of songwriters worked to break their contracts after a few months of working with a band. Creative differences were inevitable sometimes.

“Proposition?” Namjoon asked, swallowing hard, scared that his thoughts had somehow been vocalised. Perhaps you could read his mind. That would be a very handy superpower for a lawyer. Wait what if you actually had mind-reading powers?

What if you knew how he had just spent thirty minutes trying to figure out how he could ask you out for dinner, or if he could simply just bend over your desk.

Fuck, he really needed to reel it in.

“Yeah you emailed me about doing an analysis on fan culture?” you answered with a grin, enjoying the reveal. Namjoon had been a rockstar for most of his life, jamming out confidently on stage, so it was extra funny seeing him so clueless. That was before he became flustered, turning a bright red.

“Oh shit? Did I fuck up my emails? I meant to send that to… someone else,” he stumbled, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his emails.

“Yummyjungkookie, right?” you asked, relishing the way his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief before reaching your hand out, “Nice to meet you.”

“What the fuck…” Namjoon mumbled, taking your hand in his and shaking gingerly, before recovering. “You’re… you’re yummyjungkookie?”

“The one and only,” you grinned.

“But you’re a lawyer…” he said in awe. Never in a million years he would’ve thought the beautiful, polished, somewhat cold woman standing in front of him was the same person who evidently followed him on tour and wrote sonnets about Jungkook’s left bicep. He thought all his fans were kids in inappropriate clothing, but then again the last time he had seen his fans was when he himself was a kid in inappropriate clothing. It made sense that as he grew up, so did his fans – apparently into super intelligent, professional women.

“Yes I am,” you said smugly, loving the way he seemed so shocked. You hadn’t thought to reveal yourself, but your embarrassment over the nickname was taking a backseat to his surprise. It made you somewhat giddy. “So do I need to sign an NDA?”

“Yes. I can mail it to you. One second,” he said, gathering his wits as you giggled at the way he dropped his phone while scrambling for it. Once he had sent the email, you quickly printed two copies, signing after reading over the straight forward terms as he did the same.

You had to control your squeal when he laid out his plans. A comeback? Dark and Wild were actually getting together and needed your help to analyse if they had any fans. You had no idea whether you could actually help him, but just the fact that he had asked you was every Shadow’s dream come true, and you could see your inner nineteen year old jumping up and down in excitement, the banner you had made out of your dorm’s bed sheet waving in the air.

Maybe it was a good thing you were a loser who still blogged about your favourite band.

—-------

Namjoon hummed to himself in the elevator, Moon’s favourite pizza in his hands warming him as he smiled at nothing. Excitement was brimming through his body, uncontained as all his plans seemed to be working out. Generation Swine was taken care of, well pretty much. He trusted you with the case, and he trusted you with convincing the band that they were definitely not has-beens. He couldn’t wait to share the news with his daughter as he entered his apartment, placing the box on the dining room table before making his way to her door.

“I’m fine,” Moon’s voice carried through the door, and Namjoon had to stop himself from barging in when he heard her sniffle. Why was his baby crying? “It’s just that I’m worried about dad… When mom died, he was so broken.”

Namjoon felt his heart drop to his stomach, a lump forming in his throat as he eavesdropped. He hated listening in. Moon was pretty much an adult, she deserved her privacy, but when another voice spoke, dampened by the line of the speakers, he stayed rooted on the spot, vying for some insight into her sudden sadness.

“He’s better now, Moonie,” the voice said.

“I know. I know. But sometimes he still gets sad. He thinks I don’t notice but I do. I joked about smoking some weed the other day and it was like his life flashed before his eyes. He looked like he was going to cry… I just… I get scared of letting him down sometimes,” she sighed.

“You know you’re never going to do drugs. He knows you’re never going to do drugs. You’re not gonna let him down.”

“I know that but… I look like her,” she sniffled, and Namjoon felt his heart break further. Had he really been putting so much pressure on his teenager that he didn’t notice the way she seemed to be feeling so guilty. He was scared of her trying drugs, given her mother’s death, but he never thought that he was making her feel like she couldn’t be like her mother, especially when she continued talking.

“I’m scared that I remind him of her everyday, and that looking at me makes him sad. I just wish he found someone or even if he didn’t, that he went out more. He quit his job and I don’t want him to be depressed again.”

“He’s not sad to look at you, idiot. He’s your dad. He knows you look like your mom. It’ll be dumb if he didn’t!” Moon’s friend exclaimed, and Namjoon relaxed a little at hearing his daughter chuckle in response.

His mental health hadn’t been the greatest since his wife passed away, years full of ups and downs that he tried to hide from his daughter as he worked through therapy. But evidently he hadn’t been too good at hiding that part of himself, and a tear escaped without his consent when he thought about the burden she had been carrying.

He opted not to listen to more, walking to the kitchen to dry his eyes as he set the table. Once he was sure that he had his emotions under control, he called out for dinner, smiling when his daughter walked in after a few minutes in her pterodactyl onesie. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that she was almost an adult, that she had grown so much. Unable to help himself, he hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as she whined about being unable to breathe.

“Ew dad, why are you being so clingy?” she groaned, pushing him away.

“Just missed you today, is all,” Namjoon said, pulling the hood of the onesie over her head, just to annoy her as she sat on the table to eat.

“Gross,” she replied despite the smile on her face as she dug in, thanking him for the pizza. He laughed, telling her about his day as she shared about how she had finally mastered the drums for YYZ, a Rush song she had been learning for a week.

He beamed proudly when she played him the song after dinner, trying his best not to tell her that looking at her could never make him sad. That all he saw was how proud he was that despite his fuckups, she had turned out more than perfect.

—-------

Sitting on your dining table, you stared at the blank document on your screen, the blinking cursor mocking you for your lack of ideas. Sighing, you switched the tab to the google search you had done, littered with journal articles talking about fan culture. Although you had three case files to go over that your paralegal had been hounding you about, you really wanted to create a plan for Namjoon, regardless of your lack of knowledge.

“Working on your boring lawyer stuff?” Hera asked, placing an elaborate gold and ruby necklace around her neck before turning to you in a silent request to clasp it for her. You obliged, standing up from your chair, an idea forming.

“Hey. You have fans for your art,” you commented, grabbing a glass of water as she continued getting ready, lacing her ballerina stilettos. She hummed for you to continue. “How do you manage them? Like check their retention, interact with them, and all?”

“God, you’re such a nerd,” she laughed, opening her purse to pull out a lipstick, dabbing it on her lips with her front view camera as the mirror. “You just put stuff out there, fans will follow. They don’t need interaction or those fancy terms. You just do you, they come.”

You knew for a fact that she was incorrect. Even running your somewhat small anonymous blog you knew that the weeks you didn’t interact with your audience, when you didn’t answer their messages or reply to their comments, your popularity dipped. People liked being seen, especially from those they admire. It boggled your mind how she made money when she was always so blase about everything, coasting through life like nothing required effort.

“Where are you off to, anyways?” you asked, settling back into your chair to skim through the numerous articles you had found.

“Going out with my boyfriend,” she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows as you stared at her in disbelief.

“Wait, you’re dating? Who?” you returned her smile, excited for her to be in a relationship after she had been wanting one for so long. You couldn’t count the number of weekends you had to resort to headphones while she looked for the one between her bedsheets.

She was a hopeless romantic of sorts, thinking that a relationship was the cure to everything, yet she had notoriously high standards. You blamed her obsession with Disney movies for that, but you couldn’t help the way you warmed at the flustered look on her face, biting her lip as she tried to not smile.

“You know him actually,” she said much to your surprise. “But you can’t judge me if I tell you! Promise me!”

Laughing at her sudden pleading, you promised, waiting for her to continue. However, your laugh was short-lived when the name escaped her lips. She was right, you did know him. You knew him very well, had spent years with him, had almost moved in with him before he decided to stomp on your heart.

“Ryan? You’re dating Ryan?!” you couldn’t control your volume, the absurdity of the woman who had dreamt of prince charming settling for someone who didn’t even deserve coal at Christmas.

“You promised you wouldn’t judge,” she argued, standing up with a huff. “He’s changed. He became better for me!”

“Became better for you? What does that even mean? Hera, Ryan’s trash!” It was too hard to even say his name, your brain flooding with memories of how he had laughed at you when you asked him if he was cheating on you. How he had placated you with kisses, assuring you that you were being paranoid, only to be caught a few months later with a girl in your bed.

“Just because he couldn’t love you, doesn’t mean he’s trash!” she yelled back, unaware

how her words cut through you. Not knowing how to respond as she ranted about you being unlovable and how Ryan had told her he found you boring and uptight, you took your leave.

Grabbing your laptop you headed out, willing yourself to not break.

—-------

You didn’t know where you were driving to, running around the city in circles. Usually it calmed you down, to have your music playing so loud that your thoughts couldn’t infiltrate, but today it felt as if they were crashing about, the cacophony drowning the dulcet tunes of Hoseok’s singing.

Instead of clearing, your mind was full of the last memories of your relationship, of how the man you loved would manipulate you, make you feel small in moments where you should’ve felt out of this world. You had confided in Hera, had cried with your head on her lap as she stroked your hair and assured you that he was scum. You had believed her, used her words to slowly build yourself up, to learn to love yourself again.

But now it was Hera throwing the poisonous words that he had embedded in your self-image, ones that took too long to pry out, ones that left scars that you were too terrified to look at even after over a year. You couldn’t help the tears that flowed to the bass playing in the background, overwhelmed yet knowing that you shouldn’t be.

When your eyes got too blurry, you parked next to a random park, taking deep breaths and practising the techniques you had learnt. Hera’s words were just words, they didn’t define you, they didn’t control your emotions.

Only you were responsible for how you saw yourself, and even though you felt like shit right now, it would pass. You were allowed to feel the way you were feeling.

Your deep breathing was interrupted by the ringing of your phone, a name you never thought you’d see lighting up your screen. Clearing your throat, you schooled your voice to resemble normal before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Sorry this is random, but I had a few ideas. Do you mind meeting up?” Namjoon’s voice broke through your thoughts and you sighed a little, finding comfort in his dulcet baritone. It was a different tone than the one he used for meetings or the one you had heard in interviews, and somehow it felt familiar. Blaming the feeling on your rattled emotions, you agreed to his request, fixing your face to drive to his studio.

Walking into the large skyscraper you were surprised that the security at the front already had your information, providing you with a temporary employee card rather than a run of the mill visitor pass.

With your sour mood, you really hoped helping Namjoon with his project wasn’t about to turn into a part time job. As dedicated as you were to being a Shadow, your days were often long and exhausting, and carving time for another thing just seemed like too much at the moment. Perhaps he would notice how stupidly incapable you were for the task and request an actual marketing firm to do the research for him.

Visiting his studio, however, was a dream come true. You had always loved the music he created for Dark and Wild, and immensely enjoyed the livestreams he would do describing his process after each album. It was always interesting to hear how much actually went into creating a seemingly simple track, how much he thought through his lyrics, how different the finished product sounded from the acoustic demos he showcased.

Much like the personality you had come to learn about in your time as a fan, his studio was a utopia of calm, plants scattered about, thriving even in a seemingly dark room. A glass separated the recording booth from the main area, which housed multiple cream couches decorated with colourful cushions, some even with the band on them.

On the walls were their records, different colours signifying which had gone platinum – most of them. There was a large monitor attached to the glass wall of the recording booth, a large gaming chair facing it on which sat Namjoon, fiddling with the mouse. The large screen embarrassingly enough had your blog on it as the man in question scrolled, laughing at your somewhat unhinged comments.

“Please stop stalking my blog,” you deadpanned and he turned the chair to face you with a large smile on his face.

“Only fair. You stalked me all these years,” he teased, loving the way your face scrunched in disbelief. He liked how you looked today, probably more than how he found you at the meeting. Dressed in a matching pink sweat suit, you somehow looked a little softer, and definitely less intimidating than the woman spouting the Federal Reclamation Law off the top of her head. It made him glad he had gathered the courage to ask you for a meeting.

“And it got you more famous. Your point?” you replied, ignoring the heat that was creeping up your back. You really should’ve gone through your blog and parsed through all the very horny comments you had left on their photos, but then again they should take it as a compliment. You were only appreciating them!

“My point is,” Namjoon began, leaning on his elbows as he gestured for you to sit on the couch in front of him, “You’re talented at getting people hyped up. And I want to make all the other blogs I found get active again. I have a list!”

His proclamation was followed by an actual list he had compiled that he handed to you, and being in the fandom for so long, you knew almost all of the fifteen names, some of them even personally. It may have seemed that the Shadow fandom was massive, but when it came to bigger blogs, it was actually pretty small, all of you constantly running into each other at events at some point of your fan careers.

“Well, six of these are moms now and they don’t even have time to breathe, let alone continue following you guys. I don’t know about these four, but Sera is in prison,” you said.

“Prison?! For stalking?” he asked, genuinely taken aback, and you just chuckled.

“No… for embezzlement. Turns out, she liked taking money more than pictures of you,” you quipped, laughing at his response.

“But she was so into me,” he scowled.

“Sucks to suck,” you responded as he scoffed, turning his attention back to his computer as he started to strategize different marketing tactics, some of which went over your head, especially when he started to talk about TikTok.

Perhaps Hera’s news had really exhausted you or perhaps it was the fact that marketing was never your forte, but you found yourself zoning out of the conversation, hoping Namjoon didn’t notice that you looked like a mess when you entered his office. He hadn’t acted like he noticed, but you were sure that your eyes were still a little red-rimmed, and that your face was puffy from crying in your car. You hadn’t realised how quiet you had gotten till his voice cut through your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, pausing his rant.

“Yeah. Sorry, just a little out of it today,” you replied with a smile, trying not to be affected by how concerned he seemed. Even after spending such a short amount of time with him, you had started wondering why he was your least favourite member, maybe you really did view your Shadow life through a very distorted, horny lens.

“You know what always makes me feel better? Chocolate!” he suggested with a grin, opening a drawer to pull out a giant bar of some Swiss chocolate and presenting it to you with a flourish. The gesture made you laugh harder than you anticipated, the random move making you wheeze. He joined you, unwrapping the chocolate to break off a piece for you, the gesture endearing you to no end.

“Ah! So this is why you never had abs,” you joked, giggling as he groaned.

“I had a kid to take care of! And… okay you’re under NDA so I can tell you,” he whispered, leaning in, and your curiosity peaked as he came closer. “Those teething biscuits are fucking delicious! Dude, those are like crack!”

The absurdity of the statement had you cackling once again, and you couldn’t help appreciating the effort he was putting into cheering you up, even when he didn’t know what was wrong. And perhaps it was the recent rehashing of your past, but you felt your heart warm, your grin matching his.

Unknown to you, Namjoon’s heart warmed too, just by hearing your laugh.

—-------

Somehow after the night in the studio, texting and hanging out with Namjoon became the norm. At least twice a week, you’d visit the little sanctuary he had created, spouting wild plans for twenty minutes before falling into a tangent that took over the conversation, trailing it to random topics that always distracted you till both of you were enjoying take out. For someone who had spent his whole life in the limelight, Namjoon was oddly normal.

Sure he had his moments like when he accidentally broke his extremely expensive watch because he was flailing animatedly while describing how he had once found a boy in his daughter’s room. But for the most part, he was down to earth, his stories mundane, nothing like the rockstar you had imagined.

However, what was exactly the same as the rockstar of your blog, was how attractive he was, especially in the suit he was wearing for today’s meeting. Sitting next to you on the couch, his glasses were low on his nose as he scoured through the research you had collected about building fan culture. The scowl on his face complimented him, and it reminded you of how he looked when he was busy slapping the bass when he performed, lip stuck between his teeth as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music playing through the speakers.

After almost three weeks of strategizing, despite you promising yourself this project wouldn’t take all your time, Namjoon had indeed hired a marketing firm, taking the insights the two of you found during your hangouts to them while you were at work. They had done an analysis and found that Shadows had indeed not died down, and that Moon was correct in her assumption that because of their songs going viral on social media, there was a steady growth of new fans, their old videos getting more and more comments. The news made you giddy, and it was getting difficult to hide how excited you were about the potential comeback.

“Wow… this is actually really great,” Namjoon praised you and you couldn’t help beaming at his words as he continued, “Are you sure you’re not a marketer? This is so so good!”

“Shut up. I just googled stuff,” you countered, getting a little flustered at his smile. He always seemed to be complimenting you during these meetings and you were sure your head was going to explode with how big it was getting.

“Oh speaking of google, did you know that it saves everything you search?” he asked, eyes widening in the shocking revelation he had seemingly made and you giggled at him.

“Yes, Grandpa. That’s how they make their money,” you teased, your early conversation getting steamrolled once again as you explained to him how the conglomerate actually used that data to make personalised ads.

“Wait… so like they can use my porn preferences to sell me stuff?” he exasperated, before realising what he had blurted out, a blush taking over his features. He really didn’t know how to control his tongue around you, somehow you brought out his no-filter self, something that only happened around those he was closest to. Maybe it was that you seemed to know him from his younger days, and that he had read all your unfiltered thoughts that you unapologetically owned up to, but he felt close to you despite only knowing you for merely weeks. It was weird. It was terrifying. It was exciting.

“Why are you googling porn?” you grimaced, cringing at just how bad he was at technology. Did spending so much time on his passion really make him this clueless?

“It has a video option!” he defended, ignoring how stupid he sounded even to his own ears, but then again what he said was even stupider. “What do you use?”

“Your music,” you deadpanned, immensely enjoying the way he turned into a tomato, sputtering in disbelief till you reassured him that you used a porn site like a normal human. However, Namjoon couldn’t help being stuck on the thought that maybe there was some truth to your words, and that alone had his heart beating and his lip twisting into a smirk.

“Oh yeah? What song?” he teased, an elbow meeting your shoulder as he snickered.

“Bicycle,” you said, smiling at the way he cringed in response.

“I wrote that song for my daughter, you heathen!” he exclaimed, gagging in response and all you could do was cackle, dissolving into breathless laughs as you leaned back on the couch. You missed the way he smiled at you, mirroring your position next to you, waiting for you to calm down.

“You’re a great songwriter,” you complimented once you had caught your breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. You regretted the sudden compliment that had escaped your lips, but the feeling was short lived because you got to witness the elusive shy Namjoon, smiling widely and shaking his bowed head as he brought his hands to between his legs, shoulders rising and a soft blush adorning his face. It made your heart flutter a little, making you avert your gaze.

That night the two of you barely got anything done, only deciding to create a presentation to convince the band. Namjoon insisted on having a special section chronicling Dark and Wild’s journey through your eyes. It was wholly unnecessary but he strong armed you with endless compliments and an offer to never get pineapple on the pizzas the two of you inevitably ended up ordering.

You never thought you would end up becoming friends with someone you used to follow around on tour, but somehow with all your meetings, it seemed that it was not only a possibility but a reality.

—-------

You found it odd when Namjoon changed up the routine one day, inviting you to his apartment instead of the studio, but you supposed that’s what friends did. So you had showed up with a bottle of wine and his favourite gummy bears, a decidedly small gesture but the way he squealed excitedly like a little kid at the candy had you giddy.

However, you learnt that somehow, this meeting wasn’t one for your flimsy professional reasons, but for just hanging out. You didn’t know why you were so surprised that he wanted to just enjoy your company, the two of you had developed a friendship but with the only close friendship you had with Hera still hanging on by a thread, you were a little skeptical.

“So how’ve you been?” Namjoon asked after he had set up a movie on the screen and popped some popcorn. His easy comfort made you worried, making you build up walls, refusing to share anything personal, and instead opting to discuss work and how his case was going.

Apparently, Generation Swine hated him and wanted to do everything but settle, desperate to keep the six songs he had written for them with full creative control over them. It was a preposterous ask, and you told him as such. You were determined to ensure that all his copyright would be given to him with as little payment from him as possible.

“They can keep them,” he said, speaking after a long silence. “I’ve made my peace with it. Just get them to take my name off.” You argued but Namjoon had made his decision. He knew that having his name on that album would just taint his reputation. He didn’t want to be associated with such scumbags who clearly respected no one, often not even themselves. And if he was being completely honest, he had just grown tired of the months long back and forth. If they wanted his music so bad, they could have it. He would be lying if he said writing songs came easy to him, but it just wasn’t worth it. Not when he knew they would water down his works to something unrecognisable. He just wanted to focus on making new stuff with his band mates, and moving on. Something he wished he could do with you by his side, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

The movie was some Japanese flick about a band working to achieve their dreams and everything that came with the industry, and when it ended you were left in charge of the remote. To break the odd tension that had risen after the silent resignation about Namjoon giving up his case, you decided to put on a documentary about Dark and Wild.

It worked, getting Namjoon distracted with nostalgia as he told you the background of all the scenes. Like how the footage of him ripping the wallpaper off the wall in a hotel was wrongly portrayed.In reality he had somehow managed to get his hand stuck in an already existing tear and couldn’t get it out. A few months ago you would have rolled your eyes and called him a liar, but after knowing him, you knew he was telling the truth. You had never met anyone with a bigger propensity for disaster than Namjoon. It was a wonder he was still alive with how clumsy he was. You told him so with a slap on his thigh and he just laughed along.

You had started the evening at different ends of his large couch, but somehow as he regaled you with more stories, you had moved closer, sitting side by side, sharing the popcorn on your lap and the gummies on his. It scared you how comfortable you felt with him, how he made you forget about everything, how he made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt. When he left to go pick up the food you had ordered from the restaurant next door, you realised that perhaps you wanted more of that comfort. You wanted to spend evenings just watching movies and making fun of him. You wanted to hear his stories, learn more about his life, and for the first time in a long while maybe you wanted to share your stories too.

Smiling at the thought, you scrolled through Youtube on the television, watching his old music videos, in awe of how much he had changed from the scrawny kid trying hard to seem tough to the dorky heartthrob he was now. You had always felt close to the band, related to them. That’s what made you a fan but somehow knowing the real him, made you feel nervous. There was no screen to hide behind, no image in your brain to project your fantasies on, because Namjoon was no longer just an abstract figment of your imagination, he was real.

“Oh… umm… hello,” a voice broke you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see a teenage girl standing in the living room, dressed much like you used to as a kid. Wearing black ripped jeans and a loose yellow flannel shirt, she seemed like a typical emo kid, her image solidified by the multiple piercings on her ears and chunky silver jewellery on her neck and wrists. She had dark hair that was tied in a half ponytail behind her head, and her dimples matched those on Namjoon’s face. You had seen her millions of times as a toddler, often dressed in fluffy pink dresses with giant yellow noise-cancelling earphones as she watched her father perform, and you felt oddly proud to see her all grown up.

“Hi! I’m a friend of your dad’s,” you said, moving the empty bowl from beside you invitingly, feeling a little awkward. Somehow you felt nervous as if you should’ve asked him if it was okay to talk to her before you did, every fibre of you wishing to make a good first impression.

“Oh, friend, you say?” she asked, narrowing her eyes with a grin that deepened her dimples. Dropping her bag at the end of the couch, she sat next to you, folding her hands in her lap confidently as she looked at the screen. You felt yourself flush with embarrassment as you followed her gaze to the obscenely large television where the music video was paused with the image of Hoseok mid thrust. You really should’ve paid more attention to which frame you stopped at.

Watching your horrified expression, she laughed, clapping her hands. “Don’t worry! That’s my favourite video too!”

Her laugh was a little weird, hiccuping between cackles, but it was extremely contagious, coaxing you to chuckle and breaking the ice. Most would think that the daughter of a renowned rock star would be spoiled, a little entitled, but Moon was anything but that, amicably finding topics to connect with you, cracking jokes at the expense of her uncles. Her humour reminded you of her father, goofy and light hearted. It was no wonder that soon the topic turned to him.

“Have you seen this video?” she asked excitedly, searching through her phone before casting her Youtube to the screen, playing a video of Namjoon from an old Dark and Wild vlog. The band had relegated him to cooking for them, the six of them sitting in chairs in front of him as he tried to cut vegetables. He had his lower lip between his teeth as he cut an onion in half and then proceeded to lay it on the round end, gingerly moving the knife and being unsuccessful almost every time while his friends laughed.

You had watched the video before. Of course, you had. It was a classic in the Shadow fandom, one that was memed again and again, but you couldn’t help wincing all the same, knowing full well that he wouldn’t hurt himself but worried all the same.

“Oh my god, dad! Flip the onion over!” Moon laughed at the screen before turning to you. “He hasn’t cooked for you, has he?”

“Oh god, no!” you replied automatically before biting your tongue, but Moon just chuckled along, fully aware of her father’s lack of culinary skills. Video Namjoon moved on to a carrot, struggling even more if that was possible and you couldn’t help joining along with Moon’s commentary.

“Watch your fingers,” you yelled at the screen just as he slightly nicked himself, hissing in pain, sheepishly pouting at the camera. When you had first watched the video, you were endeared by his antics, but now it felt as if your heart was bursting, making you almost coo at his younger self.

“I’m so glad I saved up my pocket money to buy him a food processor,” Moon commented, still giggling at the video. “Did you know he refused to buy me take out and then would accidentally cut himself like eight times a week?”

You could imagine Namjoon being stubborn as his daughter complained while he chopped vegetables in uneven slices, fingers covered in little bandaids. It wasn’t hard to notice how dedicated a father Namjoon was, but it warmed your heart to hear how much he cared for Moon from her directly.

You could tell by her tone that even though she masked it under humour and inconvenience, she truly admired her father for all the effort he put in, and somehow the picture in your head morphed till you were laughing at him alongside her, pushing him aside to take over the chopping as he leaned sheepishly by the counter complaining and insisting he had it handled.

In your imagination, he wrapped himself behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, annoying you while you worked as Moon teased the two of you for being dorks. You startled at the image, not knowing why your brain had decided to drift that way, heart beating oddly, and eyes blinking to rid yourself of it.

As if on cue, Namjoon entered the room, precariously balancing boxes of pasta and dessert on two plates, a bottle of wine tucked under his elbow, and for the first time since you had met him, you felt starstruck. In awe of how tightly he was holding the cutlery in one hand but how lightly he was holding the plates, swaying from side to side to ensure none of the four unevenly stacked boxes tipped over. You felt frozen, a blush slowly creeping up your cheeks before leaping into action after a little “help!” escaped his lips.

Reaching for the bottle, you took it in your hands just as Moon grabbed the boxes, leaving Namjoon with just the plates and the cutlery. He still managed to drop a fork on the ground, cursing at himself before his daughter picked it up and went to replace it from the kitchen.

“Grab yourself a plate too, Moonie,” Namjoon offered, sitting next to you and oblivious to your sudden crush, casually plating a bit of everything for you. You realised he did that alot. Always making sure that you were served before him, that you were given the first piece of any snacks you both shared, and always asking if you were comfortable.

How did a passing comment from his daughter have such a profound impact on you? You felt like one of those girls who wrote fanfiction, your imagination going wild with scenarios when he had only just been kind. Perhaps you needed to follow Hera’s misguided advice and get laid after all.

“Nah, I have homework,” Moon replied, placing the fork on the table before smirking at the two of you. “Enjoy your date,” she snickered before prancing out of the room.

“It’s not a date!” Namjoon called out after her, bringing your overactive imagination to a screeching halt, forcing you to chuckle with him and dig into the food, missing how brightly his cheeks were shining at his daughter’s offhand comment.

You were still not speaking to Hera, but maybe you should strike a truce with her. If only so you could go with her to a club and no longer give yourself false allusions of being with a famous rockstar.

—-------

“Thanks for coming guys. I know you’re all busy but I just wanted to–”

“Oh my god. Stop giving a speech! Show us!” Seokjin interrupted Namjoon, bouncing on his seat on the couch, making Yoongi groan as he invaded his space. Although Namjoon’s studio was spacious, it was crammed for seven people, Hoseok and Taehyung sat squished next to Yoongi and Seokjin with Jimin perched on the armrest, wincing as Jungkook sat on his lap. Namjoon shook his head at his friend, appreciating the encouragement but still nervous.

He hadn’t showcased a song to the whole band for a long time and even though he knew that they were always supportive, he still felt a little uneasy. The new songs were different from the ones he used to write for Dark and Wild – while the former were debaucherous and often horny, his new stuff was something that held more of him, bared him with a vulnerability his younger self used to hide behind bravado. Not to mention that all he had was a guitar and his notebook, nothing like the demos he used to show them before, usually filled with samples of instruments manufactured from the mixer in his computer.

When Hoseok asked everyone to be quiet, Namjoon took a grounding breath, starting to pluck the strings slowly, building a melody that had haunted him for weeks. The acoustic version wasn’t how he heard it in his head, but he hoped it was enough to inspire his friends to imagine how easily they would fill in the gaps. He picked the strings individually, separating the chords so that they could speak to the emotions he was aiming for.

Soft strings echoed through the space, slow and resounding, and he cleared his throat before closing his eyes and singing. He always hated how he sounded but somehow in that moment he lost himself to the melancholy, letting it guide his vocals.

Maybe cherries are blossoming And winter is going to be over I miss you (I miss you) I miss you (I miss you) Wait a little bit, just a few more nights I’ll be there to see you (I'll go there to meet you) I’ll come for you (I'll come for you) Pass the end of winter's cold Until the spring day comes again Until the flowers bloom again Please stay, please stay there a little longer

The room was silent when he opened his eyes, six pairs of eyes staring at him. They had all leaned forward, Jungkook now sitting on the floor, legs crossed below him as his head rested on his hands. There were no words and Namjoon felt himself getting nervous as Yoongi spoke.

“Holy fuck…” he whispered, and Namjoon jumped straight into defense.

“I know my voice sounded terrible. You guys know i can’t sing, but I was just thinking, if we added some drums and then Seokjin you added some of the melody or maybe Jimin with a solo in the middle with Yoongi’s production… it could be… umm… something?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung asked, his voice deep and serious, and Namjoon felt himself deflate a little, shoulders slumping before the next words left Taehyung’s mouth, “This is fucking incredible.”

It seemed that his words broke everyone out of their trance, praise flowing through the room as they excitedly left the mixing part of the studio to join Namjoon on the recording side, picking up their designated instruments.

“This is 4/4 as usual right?” Jungkook asked, taking a seat at the drums, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck before twirling the sticks between his fingers.

“And what’s the key again?” Seokjin questioned, plugging his guitar into the amp, taking a determined stance as he smiled warmly at Namjoon and Namjoon couldn’t help mirroring his expression, his cheeks splitting with how wide his lips stretched.

“E-flat,” he replied, discarding the acoustic guitar to the side to pick up his bass, setting the dials to the sound he prepared, the pitch a higher than usual for a bass.

Soon the song transformed from an empty plea to a celebration of friendship, the instruments gelling together in a sound that went from mournful to inspiring. It somehow changed the message of the song from longing and waiting to reuniting. It was as if the melody was meant to be tweaked, his friends adding in their flair that changed how Namjoon had always heard the song in his head into one he could never fathom.

By the time Hoseok and Jimin finished singing, with Seokjin and Taehyung harmonising at the chorus, Namjoon couldn’t help choking up a little. It was as if he was transported back in time, back before he knew what it was like to lose his dream – to the time when he didn’t even know what loss was. He felt irrevocably happy and his eyes glistened as the last chord echoed into silence.

“Fuck I missed this,” Hoseok gleed into the microphone, jumping a little in excitement and the band joined in on the sentiment, their voice a cacophony of chaos as they all complimented each other and Namjoon for writing what they perceived as a hit. Soon, everyone was pulling out unfinished works, some scribbled in notebooks, others in their phones, one even on a napkin – Taehyung had a moment of inspiration in a Jazz club three months ago.

It was as if the previous years had been erased, their usual teamwork gelling into place like muscle memory, ideas flying and morphing into melodies that were lighthearted and poetry that struck a chord. Namjoon knew they were still wary about a comeback, but just seeing the joy on their faces as they brainstormed song after song, convinced him it wouldn’t be too hard to put their worries to rest.

Something told him this wouldn’t be the last time they jammed together.

—-------

It had been a few weeks since you had talked to Hera properly. Conversations that used to last hours were subdued to passing remarks about groceries and chores. She stayed out most of the time, giving you space. Sitting on your living room couch with ramen on a Saturday night, things were dull, your mind wandering on your relationship with her.

They say absence makes the heart grow stronger, but it didn’t seem to be the case for you. The more she stayed away, the more you had time to dwell on how your friendship had faded over time, how she had gone from a confidant to someone you tolerated. It made you feel a little guilty, but everytime that guilt would be overshadowed by how it seemed that you were always putting in more effort, from housing her during her financial crisis to not thinking twice about any favour she asked of you.

It wasn’t always bad, you remembered her getting you out of your introverted shell in law school, challenging you to strike a balance between coursework and hobbies. But in the past two years, you couldn’t recall a single time she had even mildly inconvenienced herself on your behalf. She was often passive-aggressive, seemingly exasperated at you. Perhaps it made sense if she was talking to Ryan during that time, his manipulative nature probably influenced her. But if she was so easily swayed was she truly your friend?

As if she was honed into you trying to let her go, she waltzed in through the front door, a huge grin on her face and smelling of alcohol. Squealing your name she startled you with a hug, her arms wrapping tight around you. It felt suffocating, unnerving.

“I miss you,” she sniffled, and usually her crying would be enough for you to forgive her, but you knew she was an emotional drunk. You sat in silence, letting her cry into your shoulder, not knowing how to react when the last words she said to you were accusations of how you had forced your ex to cheat. You didn’t know why you were being so harsh, but maybe it was because you had started to watch the Dark and Wild vlogs again, envying their friendships, comparing it to how the two of you interacted.

You patted her on the shoulder, waiting for her to sit up, and when she did you smiled, not knowing what else to do but tell her it was okay. As soon as the words left your mouth she was perking up, tears forgotten and drunken ramblings commencing. She talked to you about her night, about how Ryan was the perfect man, and you couldn’t get over the bitterness you felt. Was she trying to show off how much of a better boyfriend he was to her than you?

A ping from your phone saved you from the conversation, your face lighting up when you read Namjoon’s text.

So what do you say to a private concert? Wanna meet me at the studio in half an hour?

You couldn’t control the giddy smile as you responded, thanking him in your head for saving you from this awkward conversation. Hera didn’t like it when you excused yourself, complaining about how you didn’t like her anymore. She wasn’t wrong, but you were too excited to leave to fight her on it, apologising and rushing to your room to change, ignoring the pout she threw your way.

When you knocked on the studio door you were expecting only Namjoon to be there wanting to share some of the newer songs he had alluded to working on. However, when you entered you were met by the whole band, seven men sprawled on the couch, the coffee table cluttered with an array of snacks. They stood up at your arrival, greeting you excitedly in a mismatched unison, Jungkook’s voice the loudest among the crowd.

“Yummyjungkookie!” he exclaimed, the wink he tossed your way making you flush. You never imagined your teenage celebrity crush to ever greet you, let alone scream your embarrassing username at you. It made you wish that you had been a little more subtle when choosing it.

“Guys you are overwhelming her,” Jimin chided the men, moving away from the group to hold out his hand. “Hi Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“Finally?” you questioned, grasping his hand in yours, a little dizzy at the sudden appearance of people you had only seen on stage or in magazines. You should’ve been used to it after spending time with Namjoon for so long but Jimin was right, it was overwhelming to see them all in one place once again.

“Yeah Joonie’s told us all about you,” Hoseok smirked, side-eyeing his friend who glared at him.

“He couldn’t shut up about you,” Seokjin added with a mischievous sing-song lilt to his voice, elbowing Namjoon who cleared his throat loudly before speaking.

“Okay!” he exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together once. “Now that everyone is acquainted–”

“Oh I’m not acquainted,” Jungkook interrupted, moving towards you with a teasing smile, pushing his hair away from his face. It reminded you of his stage persona, his already sexy allure hammed up with fan service and it took every ounce of control you had to not swoon. The reaction had been engraved in you for years, after all. “So am I as yummy as you thought?” he asked, flexing his biceps.

Luckily you didn’t have to answer because as soon as the words left his mouth, Jimin scowled, smacking him atop his head. “You have a wife and kids!” he scolded.

“Aw hyung! I’m just trying to figure out if I’m rusty,” Jungkook whined, the earlier suavity melting instantly as he pouted, making you giggle at the sudden change. That was the Jungkook you were a fan of. Sure the sex appeal was appealing but you’d be lying if you said the real thing that gravitated you towards him was how dorky he was.

As all of them started arguing and teasing Jungkook for being a “rusty old man”, you started realising that they all were, in fact, dorks. It comforted you, helped you bring them off the pedestal you had placed them on and back to how they were just how you hoped they’d be – just a group of normal friends.

With everyone settled and introduced, and your pick of dinner ordered, Namjoon made you sit in the large comfy chair in front of the glass separating the recording studio and the mixing room. The band settled in the other room, picking up their instruments and making last minute tune ups.

“Okay. Someone told us a busy lawyer had been spending her precious free time to help us with our stupid hang ups, so we thought that we’d show our appreciation,” Hoseok announced, adjusting the mic stand. “For our favourite Shadow, after eight years, we are Dark and Wild!”

His introduction was immediately followed by Jungkook banging his sticks with each other, counting into the first song, and you were immediately transported to the time when you fought to be in the front row. They started with War of Hormones, Hoseok and Taehyung’s more mature voices and Seokjin’s new ad libs, changing the song into something fresher, something you thought you would never get to see live again. Before you knew it, you were standing from your chair, rocking along to the music as you grinned.

Namjoon watched you as he performed and he couldn’t help the giddiness he felt at seeing you so into something. You were often stoic, having a tight lid on your emotions. It made him want to work harder to get you to open up, often cracking jokes he knew were terrible to get you to laugh. If he knew he would get to see this expression on your face by just convincing the boys to put on a show for you, he would’ve begged them earlier.

He didn’t know when he had started seeing you as someone he wanted to pursue. The feeling was foreign. He never thought he would feel this way again, the bubbling anticipation for when he would see you next, the giddy joy when he saw your name light up his screen, the heart stuttering nervousness when you were near. He had assumed that those feelings had died in his youth, buried with Seo on that rainy day that tore his heart out.

He had tried to move on after her, had multiple one night stands, friends with benefits, even a girlfriend at some point. After a while he had figured that he would never feel that euphoria again, but somehow you had come in with your business formal skirts and secret thirsty blog and embedded yourself in his thoughts. And with it came the need to hold himself back, his once bulletproof confidence wavering to insecurities that he never felt before.

You never shared much of your personal life with him, never deviated from the strict line of friendship that had cemented itself between you, and Namjoon didn’t know how to break that. Every time he flirted, it seemed like a joke to you. Perhaps he was a joke too, a washed up musician with a grown child, who only met you because he was fighting with children and pathetically trying to convince people who had moved on to move backwards with him.

He didn’t realise that his gaze was unwavering as he stared at you through the glass, fingers moving over the strings automatically as Hoseok sang their old hits, but you noticed. Between your jumping, you saw how all of a sudden, his face had fallen, his jaw tightening as he zoned out like he did sometimes when you were hanging out. You didn’t know what he was thinking in those moments, but something told you it wasn’t pleasant.

His mood didn’t lift during the rest of the set, even when you tried to engage him with a smile and a wave. He returned your smile briefly before going back to the same forlorn expression that you couldn’t help being worried about.

“Thank you! You’ve been a great audience,” Yoongi said cheekily, winking at you after the last song before he was ushering everyone into the other room with you. He pulled up two stools, switching his pedals around and taking a seat while offering the other to Namjoon.

“For our last song, we wanted to show you a new one. One written by none other than Namjoon Kim,” Yoongi announced, plucking the strings as his foot toyed with the pedal, changing the tone to a fuzzier one that was overlaid with a delay, adding an ethereal ambience to the sound. Behind you the boys piled onto the couch, cheering loudly and you followed suit, clapping loudly as Namjoon adjusted the height of the mic and sat down.

He smiled at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn’t one of the happy ones, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat as Yoongi looped a sound and started plucking the strings with a melancholic tune. “Also sorry my singing sucks,” he chuckled dryly.

“No, it doesn’t!” Seokjin argued loudly as everyone whooped.

“Go Joon!” Jungkook joined, and somehow the encouragement paired with the soft smile you sent his way made his nerves dissolve, letting him sing the song he had written years ago for the first time. It wasn’t just a surprise for you, it was for the rest of the band too. No one but Yoongi had heard it before. Initially, Yoongi had told him to showcase the song, but after trying to sidetrack him with other songs and getting the idea to invite you, Yoongi had had enough, instructing that he sing the song at the end for everyone.

It was silent while he sang, his friends behind the glass listening intently. He hadn’t sung this song properly in a long while. When he wrote it, he was in the deepest pit of his depression, often leaving Moon at his mother’s house to spend the night wasted writing rubbish on pages and then ripping them out when the words didn’t pass his harsh self-criticism.

Yoongi had found him on such a night, curled up on the floor, humming the melody as he banged his fist against the floor, fighting against his sore eyes. Of all the members, Yoongi wasn’t one he was closest to then, but it changed when instead of telling him it would be okay and coaxing him to bed, Yoongi had sternly told him to sit up and finish the song. He stayed with Namjoon the whole night and then for three nights after, subtly ensuring that he didn’t overdo his drinking, or turn to something stronger, as his self loathing crawled into the cathartic poetry dancing on top of Yoongi’s catchy rift.

Somehow writing that song had made him feel a little less sad, as if he had let go of the sorrow by transforming it into something productive. But singing the song he hadn’t even attempted to hear for so long, it was inevitable that he was transported back to that time where he was always in such a haze that the days seemed like an endless burden tied to his ankle as he sank, flailing to swim to the surface that kept moving more and more out of reach. It made him choke a little on his words.

One morning, I opened my eyes And wished I was dead I want someone to kill meIn this loud silence I live to understand the world But the world has never understood me, why No, that half is missing It's trying to hurt me I miss me, miss me baby I wish me, I wish me baby Wish I could choose me

You pursed your lips as his words reached you, feeling an undeniably need to soothe the pain that seemed to be dripping from his every pore. Namjoon had always been open, always made you laugh, unknowingly brightening your mood when work or problems with Hera refused to let you relax. He had talked about his daughter and wanting to get the band together. He had talked to you about his songwriting process, and he had told you his thoughts about the industry. But in that moment, you felt that Namjoon wasn’t always as open as he seemed to be, that beneath his usually cheerful demeanour, he seemed to be suffering, silently at that.

Why is it that I'm being so earnest Yet it's not working out Always Always (I lost my all ways)

He sang the last line abruptly, standing up as soon as he was done and excusing himself. You watched as he left the studio, yearning to run after him, but then again, all his best friends were in the room. Why would he need your comfort when he could have them?

“Go. He’s probably in the next room,” Yoongi said, walking back into the mixing room and placing a hand on your shoulder to break you out of your trance. When you looked at him with doubt, he just smiled, slightly nodding towards the door. Not wanting to overthink the reasons and too worried about Namjoon, you followed his advice, leaving and knocking on the next door.

“I’m fine, Yoons,” Namjoon called out, his voice eerily cheerful, making you suspicious. He opened the door, shock momentarily washing over him before he affixed a smile on his face. But you had learnt what his real smile looked like in the months you had gotten to know him. You didn’t miss how it didn’t reach his eyes, how his lighter right dimple never poked through his cheek, and how his lower lip quivered ever so slightly.

Before you knew what you were doing, you had your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, instantaneously wrapping his arms around your waist, crushing you to him. Your scent overwhelmed him, an amalgam of lavender and honey that he had only ever gotten faint whiffs of now crowding his senses, coaxing him to lose the control he had tried so hard to keep over the last few minutes.

“Sorry,” he apologized, trying to clear the lump from his throat, loosening his grip, attempting to chuckle despite his heart beating erratic and his emotions threatening to overflow. “So embarrassing…”

“I’m not judging,” you whispered, holding on to him tightly. “You can cry if you want to. It’s okay.”

The moment the words left your lips, Namjoon couldn’t hold it in anymore, your permission somehow breaking his barriers and a tiny sob escaping him. He buried his face in your neck, his tears probably ruining your blouse. You could feel him shaking in your arms, and you stroked his scalp to comfort him, letting him cling onto you as he cried. You tried to control your own tears, but they followed anyways, silently tracking down your cheeks in empathetic trails. You didn’t know what to say to console him so you let him cry till he was straightening up, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

He settled on the couch at the corner of the room, and you followed, looking around. The small room was some sort of a meeting area. Two large couches lined the walls in an L with a coffee table between them, the walls covered in a few paintings, and a single lamp in the corner lighting up the space. It was cosy.

“Sorry,” he laughed hollowly, and you reached out to hold his hand in an attempt to comfort him, hoping that he realised he had nothing to apologise for, nothing to explain. But he explained anyways, talking about how when he wrote the song he was in the deepest despair he had ever felt and somehow till today he had forgotten how he had felt, how broken he had been.

“We never showed it on the cameras, you know? How fucked up everything was,” he said, fingers gripping tightly onto yours, needing something to ground him as his memories flashed before his eyes.

Everything was always glamourized in front of the camera; their friendships, his relationship. All everyone knew was they were a little chaotic, a bunch of hyper dudes who would get drunk and joke around. They didn’t know that alcohol wasn’t the only vice they used to cope with the sudden plummet to fame, to cope with the stresses of releasing album after album of hits, of endless days of putting on personas that merged into a haze till they forgot who they really were.

It was okay when he took his first hit, it was meant to relax him, all the ones in the industry before him assured him that it wouldn’t turn into anything more. So the band would gather in their hotel rooms after some shows when the pressure felt like it would rip them to shreds and shoot up. It would let them slow down, float in a space where their brains weren’t capable of thinking, of overthinking everything.

That’s when Seo started joining him too, when they were just friends with benefits, before the birth control had failed, back when he was just a kid trying to emulate his heroes. He didn’t know how it would spiral, how his one off would become her everyday. He still blamed himself to this day for being too busy to notice the way her light faded, to notice how her mood swings were too drastic. He never saw her enough to put it together, not until he was getting a call from her mother blaming him angrily, screaming at him for ruining her life.

He broke down for the first time that night, apologising to Seo’s mother, and sobbing into his cellphone. That was also the last time he turned off his brain, before taking a week off to care for her. He sat in the hospital holding her hand while she slept with ventilators, just praying to a god he didn’t believe in for her to wake up.

When she finally opened her eyes, doctors warned her to go to rehab. “This will kill your baby if you’re not careful,” the stern physician warned her, and that was the first time Seo and Namjoon found out that she was pregnant, that amidst their fucked up rocky relationship they had somehow accidentally created something that was pure. They cried in each other’s arms that night under the fluorescence of the cold white room, promising to be better for their child. That was when he fell in love with her.

It was under the same fluorescence that he fell in love with her again, when she held his hand tight, her nails breaking his skin that still carried the crescent scars, as she gave birth to his daughter, the moon of his life. The nine months leading up to the day had Namjoon rediscovering Seo, had him realizing that he never noticed how kind she was, how she always put him first, shielded him from things she needed so as not to burden him. It made him realize how he had taken her devotion for granted for years and he promised himself to never do so again.

But promises are meant to be broken and it was only a few years later when he started falling back into the same patterns, using work as a cover to escape from his daughter’s shrill cries when she threw tantrums for no reason. He had promised to pick her up from school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday when he was in town. It was his responsibility as a parent but even when he was tired, he cherished those moments, listening to Moon ramble on about school and the friends she was making. He was proud of her, or so his memories liked to tell him, but he knew that inside he would always ignore her, too tired from endless practice to pay attention, placating the child with hums and nods.

It was a time when he was working on Dark and Wild’s last album, the label pressuring him to change every song he sent for approval, the guys relying on him for advice when his brain was sapped dry. He was in a haze, he didn’t know what time it was, what day and at the end of his rope, he had just stopped going home. Things with Seo weren’t bad, and they weren’t good, they just were, like a routine that had been embedded in him – one that he had no motivation to break. He would pick up Moon from school, drop her home and see Seo greeting him and he’d only wave before turning around and going back to his studio, biding his time before coming home late enough that Seo would be asleep. He’d sneak into bed and hold her till he fell asleep.

Those nights, he always knew she was awake but he didn’t have the energy to talk to her, so he would stay silent, and hope that his arm around her waist was enough. It still pained him to admit that somehow along the way, his own wife had become a stranger to him. Somehow the woman he had vowed to love in front of his friends and family as she held his daughter in her arms, had turned into something akin to a pillow he would hug at night. He would feel guilty those nights, tearing up as he held her but then his brain reminded him that the only reason he was working so hard was because of her and Moon, that it would be worth it, that once their contract expired next year he could take a break and rebuild the relationship he had. Little did he know that that would never happen. He still remembered the night he lost her, vivid in his mind like a haunting film on repeat.

He had come back from the studio like always, sneaking into his own home at 2 am. He checked on his daughter, smiling tiredly at how she had her entire body wrapped around the giant pink bunny Jungkook had given her, her long dark hair falling over her face. He tiptoed into the room, picking up the blanket from where she had kicked it onto the floor and covered her up, smiling ever wider when she nuzzled into the soft material further.

Quietly walking into his bedroom, he saw his wife buried under the covers and decided to take a shower, relishing the warm water on his sore muscles. He decided to use her body wash that night, a habit he had developed for when his days were long and he needed the comfort of her scent enveloping her. Perhaps he would wake her and kiss her this time, feeling too needy to care if he got scolded. He had argued with Yoongi that day and he needed her to relieve the stress.

Crawling under the covers he reached for her, cuddling her close till he was kissing her neck, the skin oddly cool below his lips. That was the first sign, one that made him panic as he sat up in bed and started shaking her. He could still remember how loud his heart was pounding in his ears, how his hands shook when he ran to turn on the lights, and saw how blue her lips looked. He was crying on the phone when he called the ambulance, and while he waited he held her hand, trying not to yell in despair as he begged her to wake up, ignoring the familiar paraphernalia on the bedside table.

He was still sobbing when the sirens rang out and rotating red lights invaded through the curtains of his bedroom. Still sobbing when he woke up Moon, gathered her in his arms and followed the ambulance to the hospital. Still sobbing when the doctor told him he was sorry. He didn’t know he had such a large reserve of tears, one that didn’t stop even when the cameras followed his family when he buried her, when he bowed in front of Seo’s mother, clasping onto her feet for forgiveness, when he had to explain to his daughter where mommy was.

And he sobbed again when he told you everything, baring his soul in a way he had never done before, not knowing what he was hoping to accomplish. But when you pulled him to you, wrapped your arms around his head and shushed him, he felt his chest fill with warmth. The memories that had assaulted him faded into the background, your small noises of comfort lulling him into content. He hadn’t meant to recount his life story to you in such a way, he only wanted to tell you why the song had such an effect on him, but something about you had him spilling out his truths without even thinking.

“You’re okay,” you assured him as he apologised, reaching out to the table to hand him the box of tissues that was placed there above the stack of random magazines. With the comfort of your words, he pressed the soft cotton to his eyes, steeling himself, his breaths becoming stable as you gently rubbed his back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face as you shook your head. You didn’t know why he felt the need to thank you, all you had done was sit next to him and listened. You should’ve been the one to thank him for letting you in and for sharing his burden. You told him as such and he laughed, a light watery thing that made you join him. When he stood up, you wrapped him in a hug once again, hoping to heal him.

You had never thought that you would ever spend an evening at a private Dark and Wild concert, but more than that you had never imagined that Namjoon would somehow etch himself into your heart in such a short time.

Maybe that’s the thing about love, you never know when it will come and embrace you.

—-------

Birthdays were never your thing. You never knew why people were always so excited to celebrate another revolution around the sun. Your friends had always called you jaded, but you didn’t believe in celebrating the fact that you had just existed. A birthday wasn’t an accomplishment, everyone had a birthday from serial killers to misogynists – why should such a mundane fact be marked with a party. Yet despite your protests, your friends and family would always shower you with gifts and surprises. When you got older the parties toned down to gatherings at a bar or a restaurant, and slowly you became used to them, even expecting them.

Sitting in your room with the early evening sun pouring through your window and the latest Netflix show on your laptop, it didn’t feel like your birthday. Sure, you had received multiple messages reminding you of the fact, but with your family in another city and your friends scattered around the globe, this year it felt a bit empty, a little lonely. You didn’t know when you had started enjoying the celebrations, but the lack of one was jarring, even when you knew rationally that celebrating birthdays was stupid.

Sighing after yet another episode ended, you decided to pamper yourself, to celebrate not that you were a year older, but that despite missing your friends you were still mostly happy with your life. You gathered your favourite bath bomb and bubble bath from a little box under the bed and put on your fluffiest robe before venturing into the bathroom and lighting too many candles. The little speaker you had hooked on the door came to life with your favourite playlist as the tub filled with warm water, the bubbles increasing in volume and the colour of the water changing to a bright violet.

You decided to go all out, exfoliating and shaving your skin, and adding a clay mask to your skin. Dipping into the warm water felt luxurious, the heat relaxing your muscles. You hadn’t realised how long your days had gotten, how little time you had spent on self care, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way your body sank into the tub, the water caressing you like a lover, the scents making your eyes droop in content.

You finished up your impromptu spa day with painting your nails a bright pink, a colour you rarely used, even going so far to spend extra time blow drying your hair into silky voluminous waves. It felt nice to forget about everything that had been bothering you lately, from Hera’s constant insistence to be friends to your sudden feelings for Namjoon. It was nice to disconnect.

However, you had barely dressed when you heard your roommate, her bed squeaking through the walls as she wailed your ex’s name, souring your pleasant mood. God, you needed a drink.

Not thinking twice, you swapped your comfiest sweats for a nice dress and grabbed your purse. Just because you didn’t have anyone to celebrate with didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy a birthday drink and indulge in some decadent cake. Walking to your favourite coffee shop, you decided to get a cake first, picking the extremely tall eight layered chocolate cake and settling on a seat.

Usually, you would pull up a book you were reading on your phone, or scroll through social media, mindlessly watching TikToks, but today you didn’t feel the need for distractions. Savouring the melting rich mousse on your tongue you looked around the little shop, making up stories about its patrons as your eyes trailed over them. There was an old couple sitting in the corner, sharing a quiche, and you imagined that they had just dropped off their grandchildren after spending a day with them. Then you saw a teenager, standing at the counter, biting his lip, torn on what to choose and you imagined that perhaps he was getting a drink for a crush, hoping to woo them with his choice. When he finally settled on a special strawberry milkshake with a swirl of whipped cream and two straws, you mirrored his smile as he sat next to a wide-eyed girl beaming at him.

Every new customer that entered, you would give them a back story, some more mundane than others. Like when a man with a scar over his eyebrow in a suit came to order an espresso you imagined that he was a stuntman, going into a night shoot. Or when a woman came with a bunch of kids, you imagined she was an au pair, paying her way through a social sciences degree. The stories weren’t crazy, but you liked imagining their lives to be simple, it was comforting.

You were in the middle of another daydream when your phone vibrated, a text lighting up your screen.

Hey. I think after last time, I owe you a drink. You free?

It was a simple message, but the moment you read Namjoon’s name your heart skipped a beat, stories forgotten as your daydream morphed from strangers and their lives to hanging out with Namjoon, his arm around you, his lips on yours. It didn’t help that he was somehow psychic, somehow knowing how much you hated drinking alone.

I’m actually on my way to 88… join me!

You smiled, anticipating hanging out with him for no reason other than his company. You knew it was far-fetched to think about anything happening between you, even if last week had seemed like a turning point in your relationship. He was a famous rockstar with a family, there was no way there was any room in his life for you. Even if you were friends now, once he would convince the guys of the comeback, the two of you would go to occasional hangouts and random text messages, the need for frequent brainstorming sessions over.

Finishing the last bit of cake on your plate, you grabbed your purse when your phone pinged again.

Oh if you’re with your friends, I don’t want to intrude… I was just going to offer this stupidly expensive bottle of champagne I found.

Chuckling at his oddly endearing response, you asked him if he was at home or the studio, and when he confirmed the latter, you hailed a cab and made your way to the familiar glass skyscraper that was beginning to feel a little too comfortable to go to. A knock on the wooden door later, you found yourself face to face with Namjoon, his smile making your own lips lift at the corners, your heart feeling as if it was home.

“Hi… umm… hey. Hello,” he greeted a little awkwardly, moving to the mini fridge under the mixing desk to pull out a large bottle of champagne, the gold label glittering in the low light of the room. You settled on the couch, noticing that he had already put out glasses and snacks, various packets of chips and candy littering the coffee table.

“So champagne, eh? What are we celebrating?” you asked, leaning back comfortably as he joined you, a concentrated frown on his face as he fiddled with the corkscrew, bottle between his legs, attempting to wrestle it open. It popped open with a fizzle, a little bit of the liquid spilling onto his sweats as he chuckled victoriously.

“That you don’t hate me,” he replied with a smile, pouring the drink into the flutes and handing one to you. He felt nervous, not knowing why he had said what he said. He knew you didn’t hate him, you didn’t strike him as the person who would scoff at vulnerability, but still, he felt a little guilty about unloading on you the other day. He didn’t want you to think of him as fragile or that you had to carry his emotional baggage with him.

“I don’t hate you,” you protested, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip, the smooth sweet liquid bubbling through you. It really was expensive champagne, the taste unlike any you had had before, crisp yet alluring. “You had a moment. We all have them.”

Your words made Namjoon relax, confirming that his view of you was correct. He felt light as if a weight had been lifted, making him more confident. Out of everyone he knew, somehow you had made it to the top of the list of people he felt most comfortable with. It scared him how easily you had crawled into that space, without him even realising, but Namjoon had been to too much therapy to discount you, to run away like he usually did.

He watched you as you rose, walking to the speakers you had made yourself familiar with, connecting your phone till a dance pop melody was filling the room. Sitting next to him, Namjoon couldn’t help but notice how you were closer this time, your body heat almost palpable on his knee closest to your thigh. You hummed along to the music as you finished your drink, refilling your glass and then his when he followed suit.

He sat sideways, an elbow at the back of the couch and his hand holding his head. The silence was comfortable, letting him just bask in your presence. You looked different than you usually did, your hair falling in nice waves over your shoulders instead of in a ponytail, your body covered in a dress that worshipped it, wrapping in all the right places that made Namjoon’s mouth run a little dry. He cleared his throat, starting a conversation to distract himself.

“You’re all dressed up,” he commented as casually as he could, wondering what you ditched to hang out with him in his lackluster studio. His head wanted him to feel guilty for pulling you away from something but his heart was giddy that you chose him instead. “Sorry if I interrupted something. I should’ve checked in.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him with a giggle. “I was just going for a drink by myself. You interrupted nothing.”

“What were you celebrating?” he recited your earlier question with a grin, leaning closer to you to refill his glass, the fruity scent of your moisturiser tickling his nostrils deliciously. He wanted to nuzzle into you, to deeply inhale the strawberries from your collarbones, but that would be creepy so he moved back to his earlier position, taking a heavy swig to calm himself, not that the alcohol that was starting to buzz through him helped much.

“My birthday, actually,” you replied offhandedly, laughing as his mouth fell open in surprise. You assured him that you didn’t think birthdays were a big deal, but it seemed that Namjoon didn’t care, scrambling to wish you before he was out the door. You chuckled at how adamant he was about doing something special, taking another sip, before he returned, much quicker than you thought he’d be. He held a plate in his hand, stacked with twinkies, a tiny candle poking out from the one on top.

“Here in the Kim house – well, studio – we go all out for birthdays!” he exclaimed, balancing the plate precariously on the arm of the couch before pulling a lighter from his pocket and setting the wick on fire.

“Yes, all out with twinkies,” you teased, placing your glass on the table and standing next to him.

“Well some people like to hide their birthdays. This is the best cake on short notice,” he joked before starting to sing happy birthday, swaying a little side to side, a wide grin on his face.

This morning when you woke up without any plans and knowing no surprises awaited you, you felt empty, but with Namjoon’s tenor wishing you repeatedly, your eyes glistened a little, the warmth in your chest overwhelming you.

Blowing out the candle, you wished that the warmth never went away, oddly ecstatic that somehow in thirty-three years of living you had been fortunate enough to always have at least one person who wanted to celebrate you despite your protests. Namjoon picked a twinkie from the plate and held it to your lips, and somehow the convenience store confection tasted sweeter than usual. Taking the piece from his hands, you returned the favour and he happily munched on the dessert before placing the plate on the coffee table.

The two of you settled on the couch, and between the sips of champagne, he told you about how much he cherished birthdays and never took them for granted. He always went all out on his own, renting large venues to treat his friends to absurd things like skiing trips and jumping castles.

He told you about how for Moon’s birthdays he always implemented the no “no” rule where he would do anything he asked, sharing stories about the time she had gotten him to take her to Disneyland when she was nine and puked from one too many churros, and how for her thirteenth the duo had embarked on a hike in Costa Rica finding hidden waterfalls and cataloguing bugs they found on the way.

“Birthdays with you sound magical,” you remarked, a little jealous that your dad never took you to a rainforest for your birthdays. You could just imagine the way Moon’s face probably lit up when going on her dream vacation.

“Birthdays are magical,” he replied, pouring the last of the alcohol into your two glasses, cheeks flushed from how tipsy he was. He handed you your glass, smiling at you wistfully. “It means you lived another year. It means that you’re here, alive, with me. And that’s worth celebrating.”

You felt the warmth from earlier invade you again, magnified by the bubbly wine in your veins and the way his hand was still holding the glass under yours, sending tingles up your arm. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, your lips landing on his in a brief impulse that sparked till your toes. But it seemed that you weren’t the only one who wanted to do so. You had barely moved away when he was leaning forward, his free hand gently resting on your waist as his lips captured yours once again.

Never in a million years would you have imagined kissing Namjoon Kim on his couch after he forced you to celebrate your birthday, and yet with a flurried haste you were moving your joined hands to the table to deposit your glass, winding your arms around his neck. The glass fell on the table with a little tinkle, the champagne spilling over the surface, but Namjoon couldn’t care less, taking the opportunity to pull you closer, his tongue tasting your peachy lip gloss before delving in and enjoying the sweetness of the wine on your tongue, relishing the little moan you made, your tongue twisting with his.

It was hungry, the two of you wrestling with the feelings that were brewing for months, his hands roaming your sides, squeezing at the flesh, and your fingers tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, making him keen. It seemed that the moment would last forever, neither of you willing to part even to breathe. That is, until the song changed.

It's your birthday, so I know you want to ride out Even if we only go to my house Sip mo-eezy as we sit upon my couch Feels good, but I know you want to cry out

The moment the R&B vocals filled the room, you couldn’t help bursting out in a laugh, cackling at the oddly specific lyrics your phone had decided to throw at you. Namjoon didn’t notice at first, his lips continuing to move from your mouth to your jaw to your neck, nipping at the skin. However, as your laughs got more hysterical, he finally tuned into the song playing, cringing before he joined your cackles, breathless with his forehead against yours.

“So Google really does listen in,” he deadpanned, his humour adding to your joy as you clung on to him, half in his lap before standing up to grab your phone from the table. As funny as the song was, you really didn’t want a soundtrack describing what Namjoon would do to you. A little voice in your head told you to not get your hopes up, that no matter how much you liked him, it was still just a kiss.

However as soon as you turned around, Namjoon put your fears to rest. Unlike how hesitant he had seemed earlier, he was now sitting with a confidence you hadn’t seen before, legs spread and a smirk lighting his face as he stared at you. His eyes roamed your body as he bit his lip, making you feel a little overheated.

“So it’s your birthday,” he commented casually, head tilted slightly, eyes intensely boring into yours. “Wanna ride it out?”

You knew he was teasing you by quoting the silly song but your body didn’t know better, your stomach aching with lust at his deep baritone. The Namjoon you knew was a goofy, clumsy dad, but this Namjoon was the notorious bassist of your youth, cocky and fearless as he sat up straighter, hands landing on your waist to pull you between his legs.

“I’ve read the tags on your blogs, y’know?” he teased, his hands running up and down your waist, the few inches they travelled leaving fire on your skin. “I remember one,” he mused, pulling you down till you straddled him, a knee on either side of his hips. “‘God I’d pay all the money to sit on those dimples’ isn’t that what you said?”

Your mouth flew open at his words. You never thought your horny 3 am thoughts would ever be recited back to you by the subject himself and you had no words, every witty retort dying on your tongue to leave you with a lame, “You weren’t supposed to read that.”

“And you weren’t supposed to make me fall for you,” he replied, earlier bravado falling away in favour of sincerity. He cupped your jaw, thumb running softly over your cheekbone as he smiled at you. “Can I kiss you?”

As soon as you whispered your consent he brought your face to his, lips reuniting to a taste he realised he could never get enough of. It was addicting how your hands gingerly clasped onto his shoulders, how you shivered when he traced his tongue over yours, and how you moaned softly when he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

It didn’t take long for him to get needier, for his hands to grab onto your ass over your dress and mould to your flesh, to move your hips against his in a rhythm that made him heady. He wanted you so much that he felt breathless, running out of time even though he knew he wasn’t. His actions made you breathless too, like with every touch he was leading you to the edge of a cliff, hands shaking in anticipation of what was to come, but your brain refused to turn off, to forget whose hands were touching you till you were pushing him away, your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry… I’m a bit out of practice,” you apologised in a whisper, but he just grinned, dissolving your insecurities with his words.

“Me too,” he giggled, kissing your lips, once, twice, three times, his hands clasping onto yours, fingers lacing together. “We can practise together if you want… or we can wait. Whatever you like, birthday girl.”

Somehow his hands in yours and the cheeky smile on his face comforted you. You had been imagining the rockstar, the person you watched grow up through your screen and go wild on stage, but the more you looked at him, the more you saw who he really was.

His flushed cheeks, the little constellation of freckles on his face and the one hidden below his lip, the way his eyes searched yours so eagerly. He wasn’t a rockstar, he was just Namjoon, the one who made stupid jokes and stashed snacks in every drawer. The one who got bullied by his daughter and complained to you about it. The one who was brave enough to open up to you about his life. You knew him, he was real, and, like him, you were falling too.

With his hands still in yours, you leaned forward, kissing him again, confident and undeterred, and he followed suit, deepening the kiss before he was holding onto your waist and spinning around. You barely registered lying on your back before he was upon you, his weight cushioning you deliciously into the couch, the soft fabric of his sweatpants caressing your inner thighs.

“Hi,” he whispered, adoration dripping from his pupils as he smiled, fingers stroking your hair and you couldn’t help leaning forward to capture his lips once again, legs tightening around his waist. You could hear the blood rushing through you, an ambient backdrop to the sounds of his lips moving down to your neck as his teeth nipped at the skin of your collarbone. It had been so long since you had touched someone, been worshipped by someone like Namjoon was determined to do so that you couldn’t help canting your hips against his, relishing the way his pants left nothing to the imagination, his rapidly hardening cock providing the friction you sought.

With all the bravery you could muster, you detangled your hand from under his to the side of your dress pulling the zipper down with a loud purr Namjoon felt shooting through him. With the dress loosened, it gave him room to roam your skin further, his lips soothing the heated skin of your chest as he pulled the straps down to reveal your nipples. Namjoon had seen many bodies in his life; on the screen, in strip clubs, writhing under him; but something about yours made him pause to drink it up. He could see the way your lips fell open, swollen and red, the way your chest rose with your heavy breaths, nipples perked in anticipation, and the way your eyes looked up at him, wide and inviting. And right below your chest, sprawled on your right rib, were the words he wrote so long ago now.

And the swings that can't look at the sky on their own, and the kids all grown up, and me who’s a little late

His mouth fell open as he tried to wrap his head around how perfect you were. He felt a familiar rush through him. One he hadn’t felt in so long that he was almost afraid he had outgrown it – the pure endorphins of a crush fulfilled. With a muttered curse, he buried his face back in your neck, almost desperate to inhale your scent once more. His hands planted themselves on your chest, squeezing the flesh, making you moan his name in a desperation that only fuelled him further, lips moving to encase a nipple between them to add to your ecstasy.

You whimpered when his teeth came to play, the blunt edges hardening them further, making you grasp his hair and arch your back. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, his hands moved down your body, wrapping around each of your thighs, pushing your dress to your waist, denting the flesh. He had missed the feel of soft skin under him for so long, much more so since you started featuring in his life and his dreams, but touching you was better than any wet dream. The melody of your mewls intensified when he switched to your other breast, his fingers dipping to the apex of your thighs to indulge in the way your panties stuck to you, so wet all for him.

You felt your legs shake out of their own accord as Namjoon moved down your body, still relentlessly tracing you over your ruined panties. You had forgotten intimacy after Ryan, always talking yourself out of potential new relationships, one-night stands never something that satiated you, but somehow Namjoon had sneaked in and weakened your defences. When his lips sought out your clit over the thin lace, you couldn’t help but thank the heavens that he had appeared in your life, pleasure coursing through you. With every flick of his tongue, you felt yourself getting closer to coming undone, muscles tightened in suspense of his next actions.

Impatient and desperate, Namjoon couldn’t wait any longer, pushing aside the fabric that guarded you from him to dip his finger in, your walls welcoming him with a pulse as if emitting a secret in morse code just for him. With fervour, he wrapped his lips around your clit, another finger joining the first, pumping in time with your gasps. Your grip on his hair tightened and he went faster, eager to see you fall apart.

There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room, enough syllables in any language to describe how he made you feel in that moment. It was as if you could feel every drop of blood inside you rush through your body, haphazard and chaotic, brewing like a storm deep in your core, getting wilder and wilder. Your senses were hyper focused, each touch making you quake, each moan that Namjoon made between your thighs vibrating through you. It bordered on too much, building until there was no way to escape.

Silence.

That’s what it sounded like. As if you were thrown underwater, your whimpers sounded like distant noises from a different universe, muffled and overwhelming. You didn’t know when you started holding your breath but when his tongue flicked under your clit, and his fingers hooked into that one spot, you finally remembered to breathe, your entire body relaxing to a point where you shook so violently that he had no choice but to look up at the euphoria painted on your features.

Eyes closed tight, all you saw were stars as his fingers rode you through your high, slowing to a pace you could relish. Soon, his lips were on yours, swallowing your soft moans, and your hands were around his shoulders holding him close.

“Okay?” he asked between kisses, heart skipping a beat at the way you beamed at him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead. Gathering your senses, you pushed him away, sitting up and pulling his shirt off, wanting his skin on yours.

He welcomed you with open arms, when you discarded your dress next to his shirt and climbed on his lap, once again uniting your lips. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, wanting his lips to be thoroughly chapped if it meant he could never stop kissing you.

“More,” you whispered, against his lips, hands roaming his strong chest and down to his abs, the muscle jumping under your fingertips.

“More?” he asked, dazed.

“More,” you replied once again, fingers trailing the little hairs under his belly button before slipping under the waistband into his underwear. His skin was soft, velvet under your touch, and he was so hard, tip messy as you played with him. He twitched in your hold, thighs flexing under you and his hands on your thighs gripping tighter, but you didn’t stop, stroking him slowly till he was keening, scrambling to push you off and get a condom.

“Condoms in the studio? How convenient,” you teased, enjoying the way Namjoon’s already flushed skin turned a deeper shade of red. However, his expression didn’t betray his flustered state as he confidently walked back to the couch, dropping his sweatpants and boxers on the way.

He stood like an adonis in front of you, sculpted and hard, his cock at eye level as he put on the condom, slowly teasing you before sitting next to you, arms sprawled on the cushions next to him.

Resisting him was futile, and your body moved on autopilot, underwear coming off without hesitance before you straddled him once again, resting your wet thighs against his. You traced his biceps, running your fingers up his shoulders to find him staring up at you. You lost yourself in his eyes, tracing the pattern of his irises, how the darkness melted into a warm chocolate.

Bringing his hands to your waist, he mirrored your movements, fingertips lightly grazing your sides. He knew you were joking, but something about your teasing made him feel guilty, made him want to dispel your worries, even if they didn’t exist. Capturing your lips, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead against yours before speaking.

“Haven’t needed them for two years,” he murmured with a kiss, chuckling at the disbelief so easily painted on your face. “Told you I was out of practice.”

“You are definitely not out of practice.”

You could still feel the buzz in your body, the way he reduced you to nothing, just a mess blabbering his name. If this was him out of practice, you were almost afraid of knowing what he was like when he was more comfortable. You hoped you would find out. Cupping his face, you kissed him again before guiding his length into you, sinking down in one swoop, the stretch making you keen, thighs shivering.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his breath fanning your jaw as he tried to calm the urge to buck his hips into you. “You’re not either.”

You set a gentle pace, wanting to feel him for as long as possible, your breaths mingling together as you clung on to each other. But with one kiss, patience ran out. Tongues wrestling with each other, Namjoon lifted you up only to move you over his cock faster, jostling you into compliance as his hips thrust into you in time with his arms. Everytime he sunk into you, your nails dug into his shoulders, scratching the skin deliciously, making him go faster and faster.

It was too much.

It was not enough.

As he went faster and his pace threatened to chase your sanity away, you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves faster and faster, matching the way he grunted into your mouth, untethered, unhinged. It felt like an eternity, dangling so close to the edge that you could feel your walls closing in on him, his cock struggling to keep up with the earlier smooth movements.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, bringing your mouth back to his to lap at your lips. He thought he was so desperate because he missed sex, but nothing he had experienced came close to the way he felt lost in your warmth, unbelievably hard, forgetting the way his calves were cramping. He was so close, he could feel his eye twitching, his lip quivering with each of his moans. And then you came.

Your pussy clenched around him, pulsing, massaging him to an orgasm that made him float into the air, made him lose all sense of time, made him lose all feeling except for the way your arousal gushed into his lap, covering him, marking him as yours. And he wanted to be yours so bad. With a strangled whimper of your name, he held you still, rubbing his hands over your back, partly to sooth you and partly to ground himself, to remind him that you were real and not just one of his daydreams.

He lifted your head from where it was buried in his shoulder, lips chasing yours, tongue gently caressing, head heady with a satiated glow he felt emanating from his chest to the tips of his toes.

“Wow,” you breathed, bodies still joined together, hands playing with his hair, eyes drinking in the endeared look on his face. He didn’t reply, only smiled brightly before meeting your lips once again, getting you lost in his bliss.

You sat there kissing for a while before Namjoon’s phone rang, eliciting a groan from the man who refused to let you go. When the jingle persisted, he held you at the waist leaning forward to pick up his phone to see his daughter’s face lighting up the screen. Namjoon felt bad about sending his child to voicemail, but he had just gotten a taste of you. He didn’t want it to end, not yet.

“Sorry, Moon,” he whispered before pressing the red button to silence the call and kissing you again. You giggled on his lips at his antics, but he silenced you with his tongue, deepening the kiss with a moan that signalled the beginning of a second round. However, before you could lose yourself in him again, you heard a loud voice.

“Daaaaaaaaaaad! Daaaaaaaaaad!” Moon’s whine was clear through the static of the line, Namjoon’s eyes widening in shock before he stared at the phone. He was so sure he silenced the call! With an apologetic glance at you, he picked up his phone, clearing his throat before speaking, while you tried to control the laughter bubbling in your chest.

“Hi Moonie,” he answered, pouting at you exaggeratedly as you moved off his lap to grab your underwear. You had barely put it on before he was pulling you back towards him, an arm locked around your waist, chin propped on your shoulder as he continued the conversation. “Yes I know… I’ll get it. No, I won't forget! When have I ever forgotten anything?” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

The whole exchange would be adorable if it wasn’t for the way his hands moved from your waist to your chest, fingers playing with your nipple almost absent-mindedly. When he hung up, he turned towards you, kissing you once again.

“Wanna come over for pizza night?” he asked, pecking your cheek, enjoying the way your lips rose into a smirk before blooming into a grin. He knew it was too early, but he wanted to make you smile like that every day, as long as you’d let him. When the two of you dressed, he pulled you into a hug, letting his arms encompass you before whispering what he wanted the most, “Stay over after?”

Your heart fluttered in its space, growing wings and vying to get out, effervescent and giddy. Going up on your tiptoes, you captured his lips once more, softly, hugging him tighter.

“I’d like that very much.”

—-------

The week after you spent the night with Namjoon didn’t turn out to be the blissful week you thought it would be. With his case with Generation Swine coming to an end, there were a lot of meetings and paperwork. With their lawyers adamant about copyrights, you spent the majority of your time pouring over historical cases with your paralegal. Exhausting every resource, there only seemed to be one solution that you could come up with, a compromise that left you frustrated because you wanted to win.

Your communication with Namjoon was mainly relegated to succinct text messages that made you feel a little insecure about the evening you had spent with him – not to mention that his case made you feel a little guilty about building that kind of relationship with a client. However, your solace was to find a solution and put the situation to bed. Namjoon was the first man after Ryan who had made you feel safe enough to even think about another relationship and you didn’t want your constant excuse of work to dwindle the flame like so many others in the past.

Wine glass in hand, you sat on your living room couch, trying to write the final agreement and even though you knew that Namjoon had fully agreed to whatever you would come up with, you couldn’t help wanting his opinion one last time. A frustrated sigh left your lips as you reread the terms Generation Swine’s lawyers had put forward and with a large gulp of the wine, you dialled Namjoon.

“Hi,” he answered, his deep drawl making you remember how he had whispered the same word before he ruined you. Gulping, you tried to clear your head with another sip of your drink.

“Okay I have a question,” you said, scrolling through the document, ready to dive into the proposed agreement before he interrupted you.

“Me too. What are you wearing?” His tone was cheeky, an audible smile making you giggle, trying not to get sidetracked by him like you always did. There was a reason your usual twenty minute client meetings went on for hours.

“What am I wearing? Really?”

“Mhm. Missed you this week,” he replied with a raspy voice that made you squeeze your thighs together, wanting to abandon your earlier plan, but you were too close to the finish line, too close to genuinely give him your time without the added weight of dating a client.

“Namjoon Kim! I’m trying to work here!” you chastised, despite the growing need in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, so work with me!” he exclaimed, chuckling. “Is it that cute lace thing you were wearing that day?”

“Stop,” you whined, covering your flushed face even though you knew he couldn’t see you as he cackled through the phone. However, you did note to wear similar lingerie the next time you saw him, smiling to yourself.

“Sorry, sorry! What do you need darling?” Deciding to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, you put him on speaker, leaning forward to read the screen and dictating the points to him.

Essentially, the label and their lawyers had decided not to sue Namjoon if he paid the minimal contract breaking fee and gave them the rights to the songs he had already sent them demos for, four in total. You had countered that with the demand that the song may never be used by Generation Swine and that they may be used by other artists of the label if they gave Namjoon full credits, including in the title and changed none of the original lyrics.

Initially, you had been surprised that they had easily agreed. You had thought they would fight you more on it, but they were happy to agree and sign, and despite your reservations, you were obligated to provide this information to Namjoon.

“That sounds… great actually,” he said after a pause. “My name in the title too? That’s kinda crazy they agreed to it.”

“Perhaps your name carries more weight than you thought,” you commented, eyes still glued to the screen, lip between your teeth.

“I mean especially if we do a comeback,” he replied, a little smug and you couldn’t help but knock him down a notch, just to tease him.

“Last I heard, no one wants a comeback,” you grinned.

“Mark my words, Dark and Wild will be back. I’m Namjoon Kim after all, don’t you trust the words of the leader?” he volleyed back, his laugh carrying through the static making you mirror it.

“I’m sure Hoseok would love to hear that you're the leader,” you teased, only to get a scoff in return.

“Hobi knows I’m the leader,” he gloated.

“All hail President Kim,” you acquiesced through a giggle.

“That’s right,” he said, pleased and you could just imagine him puffing up his chest. “Now that that’s out of the way… What are you wearing?”

“I am not sexting you, Namjoon!” you protested, laughing at his one track mind and crossing your legs.

“Okay fine. What about… a date? When are you free?” he asked and you couldn’t help the way a blush grew on your cheeks, a giddiness you hadn’t experienced in too long bubbling inside you.

“As soon as you sign this agreement,” you answered, emailing him a copy of the document as you took him off speaker and leaned back on your couch. “So after the final meeting with the label tomorrow?”

“Well lucky for you, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his sincerity easily flowing through the line and melting your heart in your chest.

—-----

Namjoon was livid. Pacing around his living room, he scrolled through his twitter to find himself trending. Thousands of people were talking about a Dark and Wild comeback, every single person referring to one video in particular. A blank screen with his voice echoing through: ”Mark my words, Dark and Wild will be back. I’m Namjoon Kim after all, don’t you trust the words of the leader?”

There was only one explanation for why this was suddenly going viral. There was only one person who had access to this. His heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought. He had trusted you. Trusted you with his secrets, trusted you with his authentic self. But you were just like everyone else, weren’t you? Just a clout chaser that went to the press at the first opportunity. He had to commend you. You played a long con, most of the women he had been involved with leaked pictures of him the moment he let them into his house, but you had been cunning, waiting till he had handed you his heart on a platter to shatter it mercilessly.

He could feel his hair stand at the thought of what else you might share of his life. Would you be like the first woman he had dated after Seo? The one who went on television with an exclusive interview talking about his dick. The interview his daughter’s classmates had bullied her with. He felt panicked as he called you. Would you go for an interview too? Expose how he had introduced his wife to a drug that took her life? Expose how much a failure he was and destroy the carefully curated narrative his PR team presented to the world?

His feet moved faster as if they were trying to keep up with his heart, each ring distracting him further, making him bump into the coffee table, spilling his morning coffee on the spotless surface. He watched the brown liquid cover the glass expanse before trickling onto the marble one drop at a time, mimicking the sweat that gathered on his forehead.

When you picked up, his body responded like usual, warming at the sleepy rasp, the one he remembered from a few weeks ago when you had woken up with your limbs wrapped around him, the sunlight brightening your smile. Stupid. He was so stupid!

“Why would you do this? I trusted you! I trusted you with my plans! My life! How the fuck could you do this to me?” he yelled, his frustration manifesting in a lump in his throat, choking his words, making them spill out strained and distorted. He didn’t let you speak, interrupting your feigned confusion. He didn’t have time to be nice. He had to figure out how to fix this. He needed to check on the guys. He needed to check on Moon. This was too much.

So he spoke even faster, let his bitter betrayal flavour his words with the worst expletives he could muster and ending the call with a simple threat, “Fuck you! Fuck you for doing this to me. I never wanna fucking see you again. I hope that degree is good enough because I’m gonna sue you out of every fucking penny you have. Mark my words, Y/N.”

He was panting by the time he hung up, lungs aching as they expanded, tears flowing as he realised just how much it hurt. His grip on his phone tightened and before he knew it he was throwing it across the room, shattering it against the wall with a frustrated scream.

“Dad?”

His daughter’s surprised voice pulled him out of his head, freezing him where he was still pacing, the adrenaline from earlier vanishing into exhaustion. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and mustering a smile before turning around, trying immensely hard to put up a brave front. But he had forgotten how precocious his daughter was, how she saw through him as she held his hand and settled him on the couch.

She brought him a bottle of water, waiting for him to drink before sitting next to him, posture impeccable and jaw tightened in a scowl. He saw himself in her at that moment, the expression one he would give his band members when they strayed out of line. Now he knew why they listened, even on a sixteen year old the look was intimidating.

“Dad, was that you talking to Y/N?” she asked, arms crossed across her chest and for a moment Namjoon felt sheepish, guilty that she had heard the ugly words he had spoken. Yet that guilt did not extend to you. He knew that if he didn’t threaten you, the things you might say to the press would have a lasting impression on his daughter.

She knew the circumstances of her mother’s death, but she never knew how complicit he had been. She always looked up to him as a role model, and he didn’t think his heart could ever take it if that illusion shattered. But he got a glimpse of that when he quietly affirmed her suspicion and watched her face fall, the scowl replaced with a sadness he wished he could erase.

“I’m really disappointed in you, dad,” she sighed, shaking her head and her words felt like a sword piercing through Namjoon’s chest. He had worked so hard to make sure she never felt that way. He knew she deserved a much better father than him, and he had tried so hard to ensure that; he had worked jobs he hated, he had read hundreds of parenting books, and he had gone to therapy. Yet the words seemed to come so easily to her, permeating the air with a tension that stiffened Namjoon’s shoulders and put him on the defensive.

“Have you seen the internet? She betrayed us, Moonie,” he retorted, voice a little colder than he wanted, but he couldn’t help it, fire stoked once again.

“Did she tell you it was her?” she replied with an eye roll, so naive.

“There could have been no one else. It was a private conversation between us.”

“But did you hear her out? All I could hear was you yelling,” she protested and Namjoon couldn’t help but shake his head. Not only had you fucked with his head, but you had also somehow put his daughter under your spell as well, especially when she continued, “You were mean. You threatened her!”

“It was to protect us. We can’t have random people think they can get away with stuff like this,” he tried to explain, watching his daughter get agitated and looking like a kid once again with her pigtails bouncing. She kept telling him he was wrong despite his efforts to remain calm and expound on his stance.

“You like her! She’s a lawyer. Why would she do this?” she argued and Namjoon couldn’t stop himself from laughing at how innocent his daughter was. He hoped she remained this optimistic forever, that she didn’t have to go through the duplicity he had experienced in his life. The more he tried to explain to her that that’s what people were like sometimes, that it was hard to trust anyone other than family, the more agitated he got at her denial.

Any other time, he would be proud of her for sticking to her stance and arguing through her thoughts, but Namjoon was exhausted. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the reason he had found out this audio was leaked was not because of the news, but because his PR firm had called him about it. They had traced the origin to a dummy Twitter account which had posted and tagged it multiple times. They had also traced the IP address to where he knew your apartment was. There was no room for doubt when everything was crystal clear.

And so for the first time, he snapped at his daughter.

“Enough! I don’t want to hear it. I’m the parent, not you. Go to your room.”

He always hated parents that dangled their authority over their children. His parents were like that and although he was past it now, he remembered resenting them for it when he was younger. He resented their inability to talk things through, to listen to his point of view. It had taken him years to get over that feeling, but he never felt true empathy for them until this moment, his heart breaking as he watched his daughter angrily stomp towards her room.

Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands over his face in defeat. With the anger fading, came the heartbreak. He really had thought you were special, someone who somehow understood him. A chance encounter that led to him shedding the walls he had reinforced in the past ten years. He was upset about the betrayal, but his fear was more pressing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to trust anyone again and that thought chilled him to the core. Years of therapy had taught him out of his usual defence mechanisms, to replace the toxicity with healthy coping, yet his chest felt tight as he felt the intense need to wallow.

An arm over his eyes, he tried not to notice how his skin turned moist and instead focused on what he did when he felt this way. Standing up, he grabbed his keys and headed to his studio.

—-------

You were still in bed, hand clutching your phone as Namjoon’s words rang in your head. Scrolling through the news you could see why he was seething. If you were him, you would’ve jumped to the same conclusion, but you knew it wasn’t you that leaked the video. Being hacked was out of the question, you had obscenely long passwords and two factor authentication on everything – working with high powered clients tended to seep into paranoia. Additionally, it wasn’t like you were recording the conversation in the first place. It was as if someone was in the room with you, taking notes of your conversation. Namjoon had even mentioned something about being sure it came from your address.

And then it dawned on you.

Phone clutched in your hand, you headed to your spare room, knocking furiously till a yawning Hera appeared. Her long hair stuck out at weird angles, pajamas frumpled and the impression of a pillow still on her face. She seemed like she was sleeping so soundly and it only made the anger licking at your veins ignite further.

Holding up your phone, you played the video, seething. “Did you leak this?”

“Ugh, this is what you woke me up for? Yeah. Now, let me go to bed,” she yawned, moving to close the door before you stopped her.

You expected her to deny it, to make an excuse but her blatant admittance to invading your privacy had you spiralling. You had put up with a lot with her. You had excused her shitty decisions, you had excused her inability to ever pay for anything, but this was too much.

“This was a private conversation, Hera,” you gritted, getting angrier as she just shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Celebrities aren’t private,” she replied nonchalantly. “Think of it like I was a paparazzi.”

“But that’s the thing. You’re not. This was a private conversation and you recorded it. Do you not understand how fucked up that is?”

“Oh my god! Give me a break! I didn’t even release the juicy stuff. I could’ve told the world you were dating that guy but I didn’t because I’m your friend.”

You couldn’t help but sputter at her rationalisation. It was absurd how she thought it was okay to do this. You knew her morals weren’t always aligned with yours, but you never realised how far they had truly skewed. How had you missed this in all these years? How had you not realised how one sided this relationship had become? Why did you keep putting up with her when she never showed you an ounce of respect?

“Get out,” you said, trying to hold back your vexation.

“What? You’re kicking me out now?” she laughed as if it was the most unbelievable thing in the world.

“I said get out. I want you out of here by tonight.”

“Come on! I’m sorry Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” she pouted, turning her voice higher to be cuter. Perhaps it would have worked in the past. Maybe it had, for her to pull it out of her arsenal, but she had gone too far. Much too far. When you repeated your words once again, she seemed angry, spitting at you how she knew you were trying to get Ryan back and she needed to always record you to make sure she could trust you. It was absurd and you didn’t want to expend any more energy on her. You were done.

You left her screaming at you, grabbing your keys and sending her one last warning before slamming the door and going to your office.

“You take your stuff and you get out. If I find anything missing or if you’re still here when I get back, I’m calling the police.”

—-------

Despite the odd look security gave your outfit as you walked into your building on a Sunday morning, you were too wired up to care. It wasn’t unusual for you to be one track minded when it came to something. You often got borderline obsessed, and today you had only one thing on your mind – get that video off the internet. Settling in your office, you scanned your shelves for books on defamation and invasion of privacy. It would make a flimsy case, Namjoon said his name on the recording after all, but if you could find a precedent, you could perhaps develop a useful argument.

When your shelves did not give you the answers you were looking for, you made your way across the empty floor to the in-house library, picking up anything of use. Before long, you were sitting at your desk, piles of books and the internet calming your nerves. However, the more you read, the more the pit in your stomach grew. It felt fruitless, looking for a needle in a vast ocean.

You needed this win to clear your name, but more importantly, you needed it to help Namjoon. It had been so long since anyone made you feel safe, made you feel as if you were worthy of their vulnerability and your heart ached as you imagined how he must have felt seeing your private conversation in the headlines. Head pounding, you tugged at your hair in frustration, reading the same line over and over till the words held no meaning at all.

You opened your drawer, rummaging for some painkillers till your hand closed around the bottle. Pulling it out, your eyes landed on the chocolate bars Namjoon had insisted on you stashing in your office. “In case you ever have a bad day!” he had exclaimed when he handed you a bunch of his favourites. The memory seemed bitter now, but you still picked up a bar, ripping it open and letting the sweet taste distract you with its endorphins.

Maybe it was pathetic crying in your rapidly darkening office with chocolate smeared on your face but everything felt overwhelming all of a sudden. If you had only lost Namjoon perhaps you would have been able to hold it together. You had dealt with breakups, not sure if the short lived stint with the celebrity even counted as a breakup. But it was the loss of Hera that had you sniffling, curled up on your chair. She wasn’t the greatest of friends but she was your best friend, had been for years and you would do anything to protect her. It pained you that she didn’t even think of extending you the same courtesy, that for her you had somehow gone from a confidant to an untrustworthy roommate.

Despite your efforts, she seemed to always look for the worst in you. As you ruminated over the decade-long friendship, more instances became obvious. It was as if every toxic red flag had been ignored by you. Were you really that desperate for kinship that you let every time she put you down slide by?

They weren’t big things, you thought. A slight here, a ruthless comment there before she was telling you to chill out and hugging you. You always thought that her comments were innocent, that they were just a part of her love language. She liked to joke around, poke fun at your outfits, your hobbies, but the more you thought about it, the harder it was for you to remember moments when she had been kind, when she had stood up for you.

Perhaps it was your fault for forgiving her time and time again, for putting up with her behaviour. Maybe this whole leak debacle wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you had called her out on her bullshit earlier. Maybe you should’ve reconsidered your friendship when she never offered to pay rent, or when she started dating your cheating, hateful ex. Was she really at fault if you had never set the boundaries in the first place?

Sighing, you set your head on the table. Hoping to will away the headache, you closed your eyes.

It seemed merely minutes had passed when your phone chimed, startling you awake but the time on the screen alarmed you. It was just past 1am. Somehow you had spent the majority of your day sleeping at your desk. Your back ached from the angle, but the pain was forgotten when your phone chimed once again. Wiping your eyes you took a closer look at your screen.

Namjoon - Missed calls (5)

Namjoon: Is Moon with you? Namjoon: Please call me back Namjoon: Please Namjoon: I’m really sorry but please I can’t find Moon

Panic surged through you at his words, your fingers flying on the screen as you called him back. The phone rang twice before Namjoon’s ragged voice was bombarding you with questions, “Where are you? Is Moon with you? Has she contacted you?”

“No, but we can find her. Namjoon, listen, calm down. We’ll find her.” You tried to comfort him but it seemed that he was spiralling, muttering about being a bad father. It was a drastic contrast to his earlier fire, alarm dousing his tone in helplessness. He went on to tell you that her phone was at home, that he hadn’t seen her for hours, and the police had told him they’d make the case a priority.

“What if she was kidnapped? What if people think that I’m famous again and they can put her for ransom?” he rambled, clearly distressed. Trying to distract him from his dark thoughts, you asked him about all the places she could be and when he informed you that everyone was looking at her usual spots, you decided to search up other spots in the city where she could be, looking up parks and concert venues. With assurance that you will look for her, you hung up the phone, ran to your car and started your search of the city.

1 am on a Monday doesn’t lead to many crowds so it was easy to go through the top spots that you had listed. You even rented a bike and biked up and down the Han river park but other than a few drunks, you found no trace of her. Back in your car, you tried to run through every conversation with her, there had been so few, and she hadn’t mentioned anything. Giving up, you hoped that they had found her and forgotten to tell you. You were an insignificant part of their lives anyway.

Calling Namjoon didn’t work, his phone just rang through each time. You knew you should just go home and let him deal with it, he had his best friends and the police on his side, he didn’t need you, someone he didn’t even trust anymore, to tag along. But the unrest in your chest wouldn’t let you turn your car around. Instead, you drove to his apartment as if on instinct. If he wanted you out, he would tell you, he clearly had no problem making his opinions known when he wanted to.

When you knocked on his door, you were met by a Namjoon you hadn’t seen before. Eyes red, hair a mess, he let you in before starting his pacing again, rambling about how he was a terrible father, interrupting you angrily when you tried to tell him otherwise.

“I told her to go to her room! Do you know how fucked up that is?” he yelled, confusing you further.

“Namjoon… a lot of kids get sent to their room. That’s not a bad thing,” you cautioned, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Not Moon. She was… so disappointed in me. I’m not supposed to be like those other parents! What if… what if that’s the last thing I say to her?” His lip quivered as he spoke, facade crumbling as he fell to his knees, taking you with him. For all the vitriol he had spewed that morning, it seemed that Namjoon just wanted you close, clinging on to you in his panic. You couldn’t help but hold him close, even if it was temporary, wishing to provide him with comfort as long as he allowed.

It was in that position that Moon found the two of you when she returned, immediately running to her father.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling next to you as Namjoon stared at her before pulling her into a bone-crushing bone crushing hug.

“Where were you? I was so worried!” he scolded, unable to stop the huge relieved grin on his face. He patted her hair as if to feel if she was real and you couldn’t help but be endeared by the pure display as they bickered, It was heartwarming to see Moon trying to explain to her worried father that she had merely forgotten her phone at home and gone to a concert with friends.

“You could’ve messaged from someone’s phone or left a note!” Namjoon argued, still hugging her.

“I left a note on the fridge!” she replied as Namjoon sheepishly made excuses as to how he had been too worried to even check the kitchen fridge.

The two were in their own bubble and it made you a little awkward to be watching such an intimate family moment when before the disaster it was made clear that you were no longer welcomed in Namjoon’s life. With a heavy heart, you stood up taking your leave despite Moon’s insistence for you to stay the rest of the night.

As you were leaving, Jungkook and Yoongi came by, both equally relieved to find their niece safe and sound. When the elevator doors closed in front of you, you decided that it was better to have gotten a glimpse into the lives of people you admired than to have never had that time with them at all. It still hurt to have Namjoon distrust you so easily, even if rationally it made sense as to why he did. You were only a fleeting moment and that was okay.

You were grateful for the time you spent with him.

—-------

It had been a week since he berated and then asked you for a favour, and Namjoon didn’t think he could ever feel so empty again. He stared at the glass of whiskey in front of him, trying to figure out if it was even a good idea to call you. Would you hear him out, let him apologise or would you just brush him off?

You hadn’t apologised for the leak and even if he did overreact in the moment, he knew that it was unfair of you to do that. But after how quick you had jumped in to help him search for Moon and how none of his other secrets came into the limelight, his gut told him that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe you had gotten hacked, or he had gotten hacked. Maybe there was an explanation that didn’t lead to him losing you from his life. But then again, did he even deserve to invite you back in when he had so ruthlessly shoved you out. Damn, he even threatened to sue you!

“Joon hyung! I’m trying to tell you all something!” Jungkook whined, the addition of the term of respect alluding to Namjoon that he had been calling his name for a while. The guys had dropped the honorifics once they had disbanded, an effort to see each other on equal footing as friends, but the habit was especially hard to drop for the youngest. Namjoon chuckled at his friend with a nod as the rest of the band grumped at Jungkook to continue.

“So… the leak was actually good huh?” he commented, large eyes scanning the faces of the six men around him eagerly. For someone who was dead set against a comeback, it seemed that the sudden downpour of support from old and new fans alike had swayed Jungkook.

Jungkook was barely even a teenager when Dark and Wild launched, so it was no surprise that Shadows held a very big spot in his heart, multiple tattoos alluding to the fact. Namjoon remembered when a doe-eyed Jungkook had excitedly shown him his first fan letter, one that was still framed in his living room.

It was endearing to see him this excited about returning, but for all his plans, Namjoon felt guilty that the thing that convinced the members to pursue a comeback was not his and your hard work but a mistake. He felt uneasy, a clawing feeling in his chest making him feel as if he had forgotten something behind.

He knew it was you.

Somehow in the months of planning, you had become intertwined with his vision of a comeback. When he imagined picking songs for the album, he thought of your input. He imagined your name in the end notes of the cover. He imagined you in the studio during practice and in the wings at the first concert.

It wasn’t a comeback if you weren’t there to enjoy it with him. Even if you never wanted to talk to him again, he wanted to experience everything because you had so easily given him access to your time and your intelligence. Perhaps he should’ve never crossed that line. Perhaps he should’ve remained professional and not let his lonely heart fiddle with his brain.

“So wait… we all want to actually do this?” Jimin asked, the men continuing their discussion, oblivious to how Namjoon had once again reverted into his head. Everyone nodded along, except Seokjin who sat with a frown on his face.

“I don’t know… Go back to the limelight? Do you think we’re ready for that again?” he asked tentatively, his lower lip between his teeth. “It was a lot of pressure on all of us, all of our partners too.”

“We’re older now. We know our limits better now. We know ourselves better now,” Hoseok consoled quietly, slurring a little and sipping his drink, his face already flaring red from the alcohol. Seokjin laughed at the juxtaposition of Hoseok’s serious tone and sleepy eyes.

“Okay. If you can beat me at rock, paper, scissors, I’m in,” he joked holding up a fist as Hoseok squared up, much to the annoyance of the rest of the band.

“Why do we always have to do rock, paper, scissors for everything?” Taehyung bemoaned, leaning back on the couch staring at the ceiling with a huff as Jungkook coached Hoseok through whispers.

“Because democracy,” Seokjin grinned, chanting 'rock, paper, scissors’ before leaving his fist as is to signal rock just a few seconds after Hoseok showed his hand, paper.

“I won!” Hoseok gleed excitedly before stopping short and staring at his friends. “I won… We’re doing a comeback?”

“We’re doing a comeback,” Seokjin laughed, trying not to hint that he had agreed before the game even started, even when Yoongi smiled knowingly at him. “Good job, Joonie.”

Namjoon couldn’t help getting a little flustered at the sudden praise from his bandmate, his heart beating faster. He had waited so long for this, that it seemed surreal that it was happening. Standing up, he raised his glass to the middle, proposing a toast.

“Dark and Wild,” he cheered, the men echoing him as seven glasses clinked together.

Fuck, they were really doing a comeback, weren’t they?

—-------

When you had left Namjoon’s apartment two weeks ago, you were sure that you would never return. There was no reason to climb the gilded elevator to the cosy home, especially with the radio silence that had continued between the two of you. You were sure he still thought you were responsible for the leak and you should’ve been mad that he never tried to hear you out, but your empathy wouldn’t let you. It made sense with how guarded he was to assume the worst, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t hope that he would call you and make things right.

Waiting for the elevator, it wasn’t Namjoon that invited you back, but Moon. She had messaged you requesting your presence at her birthday and after Namjoon had explained how he tried to make each of her birthdays magical, there was no way you could refuse. You knew it would be awkward, stilted as you tried to go through a group of Namjoon’s friends and family, but you would hate it if you were the one who took away the magic of birthdays from a girl that always believed in them.

You watched the buttons light up as the elevator ascended, a set of drumsticks gift wrapped in your hands. Your nerves flared the closer you got to the penthouse and you laughed at how ridiculous you were being. Namjoon wasn’t even an ex, he was just a beginning that never led anywhere. If anything you should’ve been grateful that it never led to more. It would have broken you if it had. But you were strong, ready to impart your birthday greeting with a brave face and leave after ten minutes.

It was only ten minutes. You could do it.

However, when the doors opened to the apartment, you didn’t see the crowd you had been anticipating. There were no balloons in the living room, no music, no lights. Only Namjoon, seated at a table in the middle of the living room.

The couches and coffee table that usually occupied the space were absent. Instead there was a table with a white cloth draped over it and two chairs. A large dish of pasta sat on the surface, along with a basket of bread, place settings for two, and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Candles on the table gave the room a soft glow, your heart stuttering as Namjoon walked over, biting his lip sheepishly and fiddling with his fingers.

“Hi,” he said, flushing as you looked up at him. Before you could answer, he was apologising. “I’m really, really sorry for being an idiot. I should have never blown up at you like that. That was fucked up and I’m really sorry.”

“Where’s Moon?” you asked, ignoring his apology, just to see him squirm a little more.

“Um… her birthday wish was for us to make up… So she’s at a sleepover with her friends.”

“Well… I got her a present,” you stated awkwardly.

“Oh! I can take it. Thank you,” Namjoon said, taking the present and placing it on the table before clearing his throat. “I’m serious. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t care if you leaked the clip, I’m sure you had a plan and I was an idiot for not lis–.”

“I didn’t leak anything,” you cut him off quietly, watching how his eyes widened in response, a soft “what” escaping his lips. “I didn’t leak it. My roommate recorded us without me knowing. Well, ex roommate.”

“Fuck,” Namjoon breathed before laughing bitterly in disbelief. “I really am an asshole. Wow.”

“I get why you did that though. You had to protect yourself and Moon,” you defended his actions, but he didn’t let you, apologising once more before offering you a seat. When the two of you were settled, he told you about his past, about how other partners had scarred him, how he had somehow been hardwired into accepting the worst in people, and for the first time, you let him in too, sharing your fight with Hera.

“I’m a lawyer, Namjoon. I signed an NDA,” you replied, a finger tracing the wine glass in front of you. Namjoon’s sudden laugh startled you, your eyes meeting his as you watched him cover his mouth.

“Sorry but that’s what Moon said too,” he replied, the tension in the air melting at the comment and a smile lifting your lips.

“Smart daughter you got there,” you complimented, raising your glass. He clinked his own against it before taking a sip.

“That I do,” he easily agreed.

“Tell her that her birthday wish came true.”

“Wait really?” he asked with a grin he couldn’t control. “We made up?”

“If you still want to be friends, I’m okay with that. I’d like to be your friend, Namjoon,” you replied, confused as his smile dropped suddenly, his eyes leaving yours to his fingers that traced meaningless patterns against the tablecloth.

“Yeah, friends. I’d love to be your friend. Pasta?” he asked, holding up the bowl overflowing with aglio ollio, a stiff smile plastered on his face. You helped yourself to the food, commenting on the bright flavour as he admitted that he had learnt how to perfect the dish as it was Moon’s favourite, and basically the only thing that he could cook well. The conversation flowed stonely, awkward and even with the conclusion that you were friends, it felt stifled, like the two of you were playing a part in a play, small talk seeming scripted and wooden.

When the dinner came to an end, he protested you clearing the table but you stubbornly carried the plates to the kitchen, starting to wash them as Namjoon tried to stop you. He gave up halfway, content to watch you clean, your earlier words echoing in his head. I’d like to be your friend, Namjoon.

He didn’t want to be your friend though. He thought he did. He thought that he would be happy just to have you in his life at a safe distance, but the moment those words had left your lips it was like his stomach fell to the floor. He didn’t want to give you up. He missed you, missed that he had just indulged in you once, woke up next to you once before he had fucked it all up. And before he knew it, those words were escaping him.

“I don’t want to be friends.”

His words rang through you, the last plate you were rinsing slipping slightly from your fingers. You knew it would come to that eventually, that he would realise that it was almost pointless to be your friend. You had hoped it wouldn’t have happened this soon though. With a practised smile, you placed the plate onto the drying rack, wiping your hands on the dish towel stowed next to the sink, ready to take your leave.

“Oh… okay. Thanks for dinner then.”

But before you could move he was coming closer, a hand raised tentatively as he stared at your face, eyes roaming your features and lip tucked beneath his teeth.

“Don’t leave. I… I just… I don’t want to be friends.”

Your eyes met his as the meaning of the words registered slowly, hope blooming in your chest. It lit beneath your skin, coating you like honey, warm and sweet. But you still needed the assurance, “Then what do you want?”

“More,” he whispered, impossibly close now, the air between you sparking, nothing like the insulated tension from earlier. It was as if you could see it in front of it, golden glitter permeating in your vision, softly dispersing as he moved his hand till it was resting on your cheek, his thumb stroking the sparks into a fire.

When he leaned in, he moved slowly, the dark brown of his irises melting into his pupils as they searched yours for any hesitation. And then his lips moved, stealing your attention with their murmurs, “So much more.”

You lashes flickered on their own, eyelids closing seamlessly as his mouth gently met yours with the care you had come to expect of him. In the past months, you had learned that Namjoon cared wholeheartedly for everyone he deemed worthy. He gave his all – his strength, his weaknesses, his whole heart. And with his lips on yours he reminded you once again that you were one of those people he had decided to let in. There was no doubt left anymore as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Chest to chest, you could feel his heart beating against yours as his hands caressed your back as if testing the silk of your blouse before landing on your ass. Fingers squeezing the flesh, he moaned into your mouth eliciting one of your own, a sweet harmony once again united to string together. His body pushed against yours, his arousal impossible to hide as he pushed you against the counter, grinding into you slowly before he was picking you up and depositing you on the surface.

Your legs opened on their own, making space for him as he solidified his place in your heart. His lips migrated to your jaw, your heavy breaths the soundtrack to his journey down your body, each kiss leaving you thrumming and weightless, his long fingers unravelling each button with delicate care. With your shirt wide open, he took a moment to leave your skin to stare at you, the lacy red bra catching his attention before he haphazardly unbuttoned his own shirt, dropping it on the floor and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in a kiss that was no longer gentle but a frenzy.

His tongue wrestled with yours, his mouth swallowing each of your whimpers as he pushed your shirt off, his fingers tracing the lace and pulling it down to release your nipples so he could trace them with his thumbs. You could feel your heart race, your thighs tightening around him as lust flowed through you. It was as if he had your body memorised, knew where each nerve ending sparked into pleasure.

His teeth bit into your neck, blunt and delicious, making you keen before his lips wrapped around a nipple, tongue flicking in a way that made you see stars and dig your fingers into his scalp. You could feel his smile painted on your skin, your eyes seeing how his dimples would pop out in his cheeks even when they were closed. But you wanted more, so much more.

With a shove against his chest, he unlatched from you, staring at you in confusion before you were slipping off the counter and getting on your knees. He could feel the way his dick twitched at the position. He had never imagined you like this before and his mind screamed at him for such a blunder, but then again even he wasn’t creative enough to conjure an image as perfect as your eyes glistening up at him through your lashes, lips swollen from his kisses and hands unbuckling his belt at lightning pace. Before he knew it, his pants were halfway to his thighs, his boxers pushed along with them to reveal his cock.

He forgot to breathe when you smiled up at him radiantly, such an innocent look before you were licking up his length, fingers wrapped around him. You kissed against the head, your tongue circling the skin devilishly before your lips wrapped around him, suckling him slowly. You went deeper with each suck as if wanting to swallow him whole and Namjoon couldn’t keep his wits. How did he get this lucky?

With a large laugh that peetered out into a moan, he braced himself with his hands on the counter behind you, relishing the way your tongue traced his skin each time your head bobbled, turning him into a slow mush. Before he could stop himself, he thrust in your mouth, your moan vibrating around him in such delicious torture that he pulled back abruptly, too afraid to cum before he even got started.

Pulling you up by your hand, he crashed his lips on yours again, hands too eager to rip your pants off you as he wiggled out of his own. It was a silly dance, one that left you giggling in his mouth and had him chuckling back, euphoria bubbling through him.

When both your clothes were discarded, lost in his kitchen, he picked you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala as he walked to his bedroom. He had dreamed of you back here, lost in his sheets as he lost himself in you and if there was one thing Namjoon did, it was go after his dreams.

Depositing you on to the bed he crawled between your legs, forgetting all about teasing to devour your arousal right from the source. A quick squeak left your lips as his tongue met your folds, flicking at your clit as he licked up your slit, stealing your breath. His hands roamed your thighs, eliciting goosebumps and whimpers, squeezing the flesh as his lips latched onto your clit. You were on the brink of your sanity, your vision clouding as he kept up his pulsating suckles. Your fingers wrapped around the sheets, pulling them from the corners as your back arched, hips canting against his face before he was holding them down, lapping at you furiously. His hands, his lips, his fingers all played a part in unravelling you, but it was when you looked down at him and caught the hunger in his eyes as he watched you squirm that made you explode, a loud whimper floating into the air at his unrelenting efforts.

He let you ride out your high before his lips let go, instead moving to kiss at your thighs, leaving little nibbles as they climbed up your body, from your stomach to your breasts to your neck, paying special attention to your tattoo, before he was kissing your lips once again, letting your tongue burst with your flavour.

“More?” he asked, his forehead against yours, his breath cooling your heated cheeks and you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders, meeting his lips once again.

“So much more,” you echoed his earlier words, earning his dimples as he pecked your lips, once, twice and then once more before sitting up and reaching in his bedside drawer for a condom. His fingers were nimble, shaking a little from his excitement as he ripped it open and quickly rolled it on. Meeting you in another kiss, his forearms rested next to your head, his hips grinding into you.

Fingers caressing his back, you reached lower till your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it slowly inside you. He entered leisurely, carefully stretching your walls, eyes gazing into yours, making you lose yourself in them. The two of you exhaled when he was fully buried inside you, the stillness of the room echoing around you as his fingers slowly moved your hair from your face.

The silence was broken first by your lips meeting eagerly and then by his hips leaving you only to slap back against yours in an intense thrust that led to your moans punctuating the sound. With each one of his strokes, his lips moved further away from yours, your breaths mingling with each other as you lost yourselves. It was ecstatic, the way his body moulded against yours, his chest cushioning you to the mattress, while your legs wrapped around him.

In all your years and all your relationships no one had felt this perfect, this quickly. How every cant of his hips brought you closer to your high, pulled out noises from your lips you had never imagined. He grunted along with you before the tightening of your walls compelled him to reach for your clit to prolong his pleasure more, to make you writhe around him more, to make your lips seek for his more. He met your desperation with his own, tongue meeting your teeth in a flurry as his abs clenched tighter, your thighs trapping him against you, your fingernails digging crescents into his ass.

Like a wave ebbing higher and higher, you wrapped yourself tighter around him, limbs locked in ecstasy before you crashed with a high-pitched whine of his name, your legs jerking with the sudden pleasure coursing through you in a rush. He moved faster, harder, keeping you suspended as his lips found yours again. Chanting your name in a stuttered whine, his high followed quickly after yours, leaving him breathless on top of you, his face buried in your neck.

When your heart had steadied, he leaned up, kissing you decadently, luxuriating in your taste, a gentle aftermath of the flurry from earlier. His fingers stroked your scalp, leaving behind content tingles that soothed you, your fingers mirroring his actions through his hair.

You had never felt so at peace.

When he had his fill of your lips, he stood up, admiring your body before pulling you with him into the shower. Slowly kisses under warm water never felt better, your hands indulging in his body, roaming over his sculpted chest and toned stomach.

“I missed you,” he confessed, arms around you as water flowed from him to you, both of you revelling in the warmth of the water, of the moment.

“I missed you, too,” you replied, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his nose, enjoying the way the action made him blush and shyly hide his face with a giggle.

Dressed in his oversized t-shirt, you climbed into bed, watching as he tidied up, folding your clothes. It was an endearing habit, one he picked up from cleaning Moon’s toys when she was younger, too many legos under his feet a painful motivator. He pulled his phone from his pants pocket before climbing in next to you, his chest moulded to your back, long arms around you as he told you about different songs he had been working on. He didn’t have the strongest of vocals, but his low gruff was comforting, it’s unpolished notes a serenade as he scrolled through his demos, playing snippets.

“I might’ve been inspired by the night of your birthday for this one,” Namjoon admitted quietly as he played the next song, his face buried behind your shoulders. It was a fast beat, the bass notes popping with a fun melody, electronic drums bouncing along. But what truly made your heart flutter were the words, his husky voice singing them softly.

Too many words circle around me But none of them feel how I feel I just feel it Like the moon rises after the sun rises Like how fingernails grow Like trees that shed their bark once a year That you are the one who will give meaning to my memories Who will make a 'person' into 'love'

You pouted as the song continued, a beautiful confession that had you turning in his arms to kiss him, too overwhelmed to do anything else. No one had ever written you a song, no one had ever expressed their feelings like this before, in a way that was almost bordering on magical. If your younger self knew that the lead of your fantasies would be singing you something he wrote solely for you, she would’ve passed out. The song ended with the chorus and a request.

You're my person, my person, my person You're my desire, my desire, my desire You're my pride, my pride, my pride You're my love One and only love You know... We were always meant to be... Destiny... I hope you feel the same with me..

“I do feel the same,” you murmured against his lips, kissing his smile as he pulled you closer, legs tangled with yours.

“Good because this is going in the album and it would suck if it didn’t make you smile every time I played it,” he teased, kissing your nose before you leaned away, looking at him confused.

“Album?”

“Comeback album. Dark and Wild’s back.” He grinned widely and even though usually you’d be distracted by his dimples, this time no matter how large your eyes got you couldn’t register them. Because in your head there was a childish giddiness you had thought you would never experience. Holding up a finger, you turned away from him to grab a pillow, screaming in excitement, limbs flailing as your adolescent dreams of a reunion came true. You knew it was going to happen but you never imagined how much the news would affect you.

Namjoon laughed, pulling the pillow from over your head and kissing you once more, your excitement making him even more eager for the comeback. He laid you on his chest as you asked him questions and he regaled the story of how the decision was made based on a game of chance and your roommate’s stupid actions.

“Thank you for helping me get my dream again,” Namjoon whispered, grateful that he had written to you and that you had responded.

He owed a lot to fate for whisking you into his arms.

—————

Epilogue

It was dark around you, but that was only because the lights on stage were so bright. Music boomed. Guitar riffs were clean even with their distortion. Drums were loud, cracking in the air. Hoseok’s growl echoed through your bones as you watched Dark and Wild perform, the sweet smell of manufactured smoke surrounding you. Yoongi did his signature move, licking up the fretboard of his guitar as Jimin grinned, lip between his teeth, and muted chords spilling from his amp. Right at the chorus, Seokjin kneeled on the ground, blowing a kiss to the audience as he played along, right when Taehyung started belting, licking his lips and letting the words float out of him. Jungkook played faster, increasing the tempo of the song just as his drum set was lifted into the air, spinning in circles, metres above the stage. You cheered loudly as the song ended, Namjoon looking for you in the wings and tossing a wink cheekily.

It was like being thrown back in time. It was surreal. Yet, it was so real.

Moon squealed next to you when Hoseok introduced her, a stark contrast to how she was tapping her drumsticks on her legs nervously a few minutes ago. “Good luck,” you whispered with a hug, and she squeezed you tight before running onto the stage in her ripped jeans and black tulle top, a grungy throwback to the outfits she used to wear as a kid.

Sitting on a second drum set, she waved to the crowd as Jungkook timed her in, the two setting off into a vicious solo together as Seokjin and Namjoon provided the background to the melodic dissonance. The crowd went wild, screaming at the top of their lungs, and you even saw someone throw their bra on stage, just like old times.

The show ended with the first song the band had ever released, War of Hormones. The lyrics were a little cringey with time, but the band laughed along as they played, bantering about how stupid their teenage selves were during the guitar solo. But you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you watched them perform, your face hurting from how hard you were smiling, your fingers wrapped around the pass on your neck.

Heart pounding in time with the bass, you watched the guys finish their last song to an earth shattering applause, the crowd going wild. It seemed that the floor was shaking with their stomps and claps.

Centre stage, the men took a bow, before Namjoon put Moon on his shoulders and the group recreated the photo they took on the last day of their tour before retiring. He made a stupid joke about his back hurting when he put her down, Moon returning her own quip about him being old as the audience laughed.

With their arms around each other, Hoseok spoke into the mic, beaming into the crowd.

“Thank you Shadows! We’ve been Dark and Wild and fuck it’s good to be back!”

taglist - @awhnamjoon @alpacaseoks @raplinesmoon @codeinebelle @aislinnstanaka @miscelunaaa @moonchild1 @shydestinyyouth @itsjaneeet @piecesofapril11 @yoontaethings @jeonyreads

Thank you for reading this fic! If you liked it, please tell me your thoughts. I worked very hard on this and would appreciate your feedback! 🥰🥺

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caelesjjk · 2 years

Text

blueberry haze | jjk

⟶title: blueberry haze

⟶ au: strangers to lovers

⟶ trope: one night stand

⟶ pairing: drummer!jungkook x f. reader

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: smut

⟶wc: 6.6k

⟶warnings: little bit of dom!jk, mentions of drug use (marijuana), smut in the forms of: some breath play, choking, oral ( m & f receiving), lots of praise, some bondage type things, touch denial, unprotected sex (don’t do this, be smart)

⟶ summary: he had been eye fucking you from the stage all night. but you never expected anything to come of it. but when you run into the beautiful blue haired drummer after the show, you decide to let him show you some of his other talents.

⟶ authors note: this was supposed to be a quick little thing but you see where that’s ended up lol. This is some very self indulgent smut yall, not much plot for real. But it’s blueberry koo, and he’s my fav. Hope you enjoy, and as always send the feedback my way!

What was his deal?

The ridiculously good looking, blue haired drummer on stage was looking right at you. And he had been most of the night. You couldn’t help but stare back at him, it was impossible not to.

“He’s eye fucking you.” Your friend said into your ear as the band came back on stage for their finale.

“Is not.” But you knew he was. He was looking at you again already as he sat down on the stool behind his drum kit.

Big, veiny biceps gripped the drumsticks in his hands, slinging them around between his fingers effortlessly. You watched as he pushed the blue hair off of his forehead once more before the song started and he became immersed in the music. He was a sight to see.

“Whatever you say.” Your friend teased and you elbowed her side in hopes of making her shut up while you enjoyed the last song of the night.

Any small ounce of hope you had that the sexy drummer was going to pull you backstage after the show was quickly doused when the lights came on and the venue staff was ushering everyone outside. You wanted to punch yourself for even thinking it was a possibility. He was somewhat famous. He could have whoever he wanted, why on earth would he want you?

“I’m far too tired for any parties.” You tell your friend who has been tirelessly trying to convince you to go to the bars downtown. “You should call Mina or Cher, I’m sure they’re already there.” She pouts but finally agrees to let you head home to sulk.

You pull your jacket a little tighter around your body as you walk past some shops and restaurants. They’re all mostly closed at this point in the night, but some of the displays in the windows are comforting to see.

Dexters Diner comes into view just up ahead, the yellow lights on top flicker in and out as you get closer to the small building. You could suddenly smell coffee drifting into your nostrils, and without a second thought, your hand is on the door handle of the diner, pulling it open.

There’s hardly anyone inside. A few tables of rowdy drunks from the bars and a few night shift workers having their first meal of the day. You smile at the older woman behind the front counter who’s wearing a pikachu tshirt and her hair in braids.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” She says as you sit down on one of the stools.

“Coffee. And maybe one of those cinnamon rolls from the case, please?” You take off your coat when she nods and heads off to gather your order.

This is just what you needed to wind down. And in most cases coffee would do the opposite, but you know the warmth of it will make you sleepy in no time.

You smile again when she sets down the chipped coffee cup and oversized cinnamon roll in front of you. The two things together smell like absolute heaven. You breathe it all in once more before picking up the cinnamon roll and bringing it to your mouth for the biggest bite you can manage.

“What are the odds?” A voice says behind you, making you freeze mid-bite. You turn around, cinnamon roll still in your mouth to face the voice.

Oh no. Please no.

Blue haired drummer boy is standing right in front of you in all his beautiful glory.

“H-hi.” You mumble, realizing you have the huge cinnamon roll in your mouth, your eyes shoot open wide and you quickly scramble to turn back and sit the pastry on its plate and wipe your mouth.

“You’re adorable.” He says, his hand gently touching your shoulder and turning you back around to face him. “Didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“Here I am.” You say stupidly, internally facepalming.

“Here you are.” He smiles and tilts his head curiously. “I’m Jungkook. What’s your name, cinnamon roll?”

“It’s _____. Nice to meet you, Jungkook.” You can’t believe this is actually happening.

“How’s the coffee?” He asks, sitting down on the stool next to you.

“Good I think. I haven’t actually drank it yet.” You turn back to face the counter, taking the coffee cup in your hands.

“Don’t let me stop you.” Jungkook slides his leather jacket off his shoulders, revealing a clean white shirt underneath, the sleeve of tattoos looking so stark against the white of the shirt.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you started talking to rockstar Jungkook, but it wasn’t this. The conversation was flowing so nicely. He was surprisingly funny and full of all kinds of useless facts. The kind that were so ridiculous that they were interesting. He seemed sweet surprisingly…sweet.

“Did you know it takes 700 grapes to make just one bottle of wine?” Jungkook says, popping a grape into his mouth from the fruit bowl he had ordered.

“You don’t say?” You start to laugh, but then feel one of Jungkook's feet rub against yours. Was he playing footsie with you?

You take the hint, crossing your legs and letting your foot glide up the side of his calf. You can tell he’s pretending not to notice, but the tattooed hand that was resting on the countertop is now ghosting over your own calf.

“Did you know a group of bunnies is called a fluffle?” Jungkook lets just his finger tips softly run over your knee.

“That doesn’t seem true.” It barely comes out a whisper. Your thighs squeeze together as he continues his touches.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks after he notices the change in your voice. You look at him blankly for a moment before responding.

“Y-yeah. I mean sure, what do you have in mind?” You sit down your coffee cup with a shaky hand. Jungkook stands up from his seat, then leans down to cage you against the counter, his mouth coming to your ear.

“Each and every thought I’ve had about you since the moment I saw you in the crowd tonight, have been completely improper. And I would very much like to take you to my hotel room so I can show you what I’ve been thinking.” His words melt into your skin and find their way directly between your legs where they start a burning need.

“Okay.” Is all you can manage to say, eyes fluttering closed when you feel his tongue brush the shell of your ear.

“Good girl.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, thousands of goosebumps blanketing your skin in an instant. “Let me grab my stuff and we can head out.”

The jeans he’s wearing must have been painted on and he could not possibly be wearing any underwear with them, which was breath stealing all on its own.

“Jesus Christ.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, but of course he heard you.

“Like what you see?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you can’t help the ridiculous giggle that escapes you.

“I’ve had worse views.” You try to play it cool, taking another drink of the coffee that was lukewarm at this point. Jungkook laughs, then pulls his sweaty blue hair up into a messy bun on the back of his head. It should not be legal to be this hot.

“Come on then pretty girl, I’ve got other views to show you.” He quickly puts on his jacket and offers you his hand. You let him help you up and into your jacket as well.

There’s a sleek black car waiting around the backside of the diner and the two of you slide into the back seat. You aren’t sure what to do, so you reach for your seatbelt.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook reaches across you to stop your hand, suddenly in your space.

“Buckling my seatbelt? You know…safety.” You let him take your hand off of the seatbelt while he laughs.

“You’re adorable.” His eyes hold yours while his hand slips onto your thigh, gripping it tightly so that he can then slide you across the leather seat and closer to him. “But I have other ideas for the ride home.” You hope he doesn’t see how harshly you have to swallow, your throat feeling so tight.

“What ideas?” You let one of your hands rest on his thigh, touching the frayed strings of the tears in his jeans.

“First things first.” Jungkook places his pointer finger beneath your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “Can I kiss you?”

Your cheeks heat up immediately. He’s so unexpected. He radiates that cocky rockstar vibe, but he’s also sweet enough to ask permission before he kisses you. The whiplash might be your undoing.

“Yes.” You instinctively lean forward and he meets you halfway with that angelic smile of his on his face.

His lips are too soft. Too perfect. But they mold to yours and steal the breath from your lungs. His presence engulfs you and takes over all of your senses. Right now, there’s nothing else but Jungkook.

Coffee flavored tongue swipes against your lips and you want to taste it again so badly, dipping your tongue into his mouth until he hums in satisfaction. His tattooed hand slides up your arm and onto your shoulder until it reaches your neck, his thumb sliding up and down the column of your throat.

“Tell me something, pretty girl.” His mouth stays close to yours, lips still brushing as he speaks. “How do you feel about my hand around your throat?” His words take you aback for a moment until you realize what it is he wants to do.

“I’m okay with it.” You wrap a hand around his wrist and move his fingers into place at your throat.

“You’re not so innocent, are you baby?” Jungkook smiles wickedly and swallows your reply with his mouth. Kissing you roughly, noses and lips smashing against the others, tongues licking sloppily.

Jungkook applies a bit of pressure with his hand on your throat, testing to see how much you like. It doesn’t hurt, it feels amazing. You take his wrist again pushing harder and with more pressure, his fingers tightening and gripping the skin.

“More.” You whine into his kisses until he pulls back to look into your eyes.

“You’re getting me so hard right now.” You chance a look down at his denim covered crotch, eyeing the plentiful bulge forming there.

Of course his dick was huge, there couldn’t be any flaws with this man.

Jungkook begins tightening his hand again but doesn’t kiss you again. He wants to watch your face while he controls whether you take a breath or not. You swallow, barely able to get the saliva down your throat before your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. Jungkook moans and removes his hand, his mouth immediately devouring yours as you take in a long breath.

“You’re going to be so much fun.” Jungkook kisses down your neck, paying attention to the spots where his fingers just were. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You answered too quickly, but he seems to find it amusing, smiling and pressing a kiss to your lips once more.

Your pussy is absolutely dripping. You can feel the stickiness between your legs and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are after just a little breath play. What was going to happen once he was inside you? You shiver at the thought.

The car comes to a stop around the back of one of the nicest hotels in town. You’ve never stayed here, but you know this is where important people stay all the time. You start to feel the nerves creep back in at how famous Jungkook might actually be.

Jungkook opens the car door and starts to get out but notices that you haven’t moved to do the same.

“You know, I can have the driver take you home. We can stop right now.” He slides back into the car and brings your face around to look at him. “Because if you come upstairs I’m going to ruin you. I won’t stop until I’m convinced you’ve been so thoroughly fucked that you think of me every time you even think about being with another man.”

You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut when he presses a feather light kiss to your jaw.

“I don’t want to stop.” You’re barely able to muster out the words.

“Good girl.” He laces his tattooed fingers through yours and helps you out of the car. You expect him to let go of your hand as you walk inside, but he doesn’t. He holds your hand until you reach the elevator.

Once inside and the doors have sealed shut, Jungkook pushes you against the mirrored wall. You gasp out loud when his hips roll against yours, the hard outline of his cock more prominent than before.

“So fucking hard.” Another harsh roll of his hips, almost lifting your feet off the ground. Your breathing is rapid and uneven, the anticipation absolutely killing you. “Tell me how wet you are, baby. Please.” The words pour into your ear, all warm and inviting.

“Soaked.” You manage to croak out. Jungkook groans and slowly rolls his hips so that his cock rubs against your clit that was begging to be touched.

Just as you’re about to beg him to touch you, the elevator dings and the doors slide open to the floor jungkook had selected. You suddenly realize that anyone could see the two of you and you start to move out of his hold. But he has other ideas.

Jungkook grabs beneath your thighs and hoists them around his waist, making you squeal in the process. He walks out of the elevator with you in his arms towards his hotel room at the end of the hall.

“Jungkook…put me down.” Your eyes shoot open wide when you notice an older couple walking towards you. “Jungkook!” You gently push against his chest but he doesn’t let go.

“You think they care if I’m holding you? They were probably crazy back in their day.” Jungkook squeezes the globes of your ass in each hand as you pass the older couple, they don’t seem to care but you still feel blush rush to your cheeks. “Should we ask them if they want to watch?” He wiggles his eye brows and you smack his chest.

“No way! Are you crazy?” You half laugh.

“Not into sharing? That’s cool pretty girl, you don’t have to share me with anyone.” Jungkook props you up against the hotel room door while he digs for the key card in his pocket.

“You can put me down.” You say again.

“Hmm. No.” He finds the card and opens the door, lifting you higher in his arms before he carries you into the room. You roll your eyes, but let him continue to do it.

You look around at the room when he finally sets you down in front of the unmade bed. There were two open suitcases in front of the window, clothes scattered about. Some empty beer bottles and ash trays sat untouched on the night stand on one side of the bed. Typical hotel room of a traveling rockstar.

What wasn’t so typical though, were the comic books laying around in the rumpled blankets on the bed. You tilt your head with curiosity and pick one up, gently flipping through some of the pages.

“You like to read comics?” You ask Jungkook, who has started trying to shove things into his suitcases.

“From time to time. Something to keep my mind busy on tour.” He shrugs a little as he roughly moves the suitcases around. You smile to yourself and sit the comic back down before turning to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t need to do that.” Referring to him trying to clean up the mess in the room. Jungkook seems to listen, stretching his arms above his head before coming to stand in front of you where you sit on the bed.

“I need a shower. How about you, pretty girl?” His tattooed hand gently wraps around the back of your neck as he bends at the waist to be face to face with you.

“You want me to shower with you?” You realize how stupid it was to ask, but it was too late to take it back now. Jungkook laughs quietly.

“Amongst other things.” He smiles, lips the perfect color of pink, silver hoop pierced through the corner. “For example…” His hand slides up and around to your face, cupping your cheek and ghosting his thumb over your jaw. “I’d like to see your lips wrapped around my cock…fuck, that would be a sight to see.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and groans under his breath.

Jungkook stands up straight, but keeps his hand cupping your jaw, watching you as you think about what to do next. You keep your eyes on his for a moment, but then almost on their own, your hands find his denim clad thighs. You rub up the front of them a few times, but not touching his crotch that was getting harder by the moment.

“Be good, baby. Don’t tease me.” Jungkook sighs, thumbing at your bottom lip.

You take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his thumb instead, keeping your hands on his thighs. You suck his digit softly at first, tongue licking the length of it. You’re practically drooling around his thumb in anticipation of having his much bigger cock in your mouth.

Your hands move up his thighs to the button and zipper of his jeans, undoing them both. When you bring your eyes down to his waist, you can see that your earlier assumption of Jungkook not wearing any underwear was indeed correct. Fuck, he was too hot.

Just as you’re about to pull his jeans off of his hips, he stops you, and instead leans back over to kiss you roughly.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when your lips part from his with a wet smacking noise.

“Shower first. I’ve been sweaty, baby.” He kisses you again, almost making you fall back against the mattress with its force. He makes you absolutely dizzy with lust. “Come with me?”

“You want to shower before sex?” You ask.

“We can take one afterwards too, if you want.” He smiles and helps you up off of the bed.

You follow Jungkook to the bathroom, stupidly nervous. He was going to see you naked one way or another, why did this feel so strangely intimate? Too intimate for a one night stand.

There’s an ashtray with some half smoked joints sitting on the bathroom counter, along with some hair products and skin care type things. You’re almost too distracted to notice Jungkook pulling his shirt over his head.

“Do you smoke?” He asks.

“I have…it’s been awhile.” You watch as Jungkook picks up one of the joints and puts it between his lips.

“Nothing better than a shower joint. Except maybe a shower beer.” He laughs and digs for a lighter in his pocket. Once he’s retrieved it, he lights the joint and takes a very long drag.

“Can you smoke in here?” You ask, knowing you must sound so cringey for asking. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and holds the joint up to your lips.

“It’s blueberry haze. One of the best strands I’ve had.” Jungkook lets you take the joint, then casually shoves his jeans down to his ankles, stepping out of the denim and kicking them to the corner.

“Blueberry haze, you say?” Your words are distracted by his naked form. Broad chest and big arms. Tiny waist and…really big dick confirmed.

“Give it a try, pretty girl.” Jungkook watches as your eyes make their way back to his face, blinking so adorably.

You refocus your thoughts long enough to bring the joint to your lips and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs and makes you cough, immediately handing it back to Jungkook, who rubs your back soothingly while you catch your breath.

“That’s…kind of strong.” You struggle to get the words out.

“You’re not naked enough.” Jungkook touches the hem of your shirt at your hip.

“Being naked helps with smoking weed?” You raise a questioning eyebrow, already beginning to feel it’s effects.

“I like to think so.” Jungkook slowly drags your shirt up and over your head, being delightfully met with the sight of your bare chest. “I’d love to have my mouth all over these.” Your shirt is long forgotten and so is your shyness.

“Why don’t you?” You take a step up closer to him, barely hearing the groaning noise he makes.

“Get these off.” He sticks his pointer finger just inside the waistband of your jeans, pulling at the material until it softly snaps back against your skin. You obey far too willingly, the blueberry haze in your mind making you feel extremely pliant.

You remove your jeans and underwear in a quick motion, kicking away the clothing and immediately reaching for Jungkooks skin, touching his shoulders and meeting his eyes with yours.

“You kind of look like a blueberry…a beautiful blueberry.” You giggle, fingers toying with the strands of his blue hair. Jungkook giggles too, big arms wrapping around your waist.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He kisses you a few times, then moves your body back towards the shower door. “Let’s get you wet.” He whispers into your mouth. You want to tell him that you’re already dripping wet between your thighs, but instead you step into the steamy shower with him right behind you, closing the smoky glass door.

The hot water immediately hits your skin and makes your muscles relax. You almost forget for a moment that a beautiful man is also in here with you, until his hands are on your hips and turning you around to face him.

“Don’t you need to get cleaned up?” You ask, Jungkook's hands sliding up your wet skin to cup your breasts in his hands. You whimper, not realizing how desperate you were to be touched.

“Mmm, I do.” His thumbs flick over your nipples, and then his touch is gone, making your eyes shoot open.

Jungkook is taking another drag from the joint, breathing it in deeply and holding it in his lungs. He grabs the back of your head, fingers gripping your wet hair and pressing his mouth onto yours. You feel the smoke slowly creep from his mouth into yours. You breathe it in like he wants you to, then let it out through your nose so that you can keep kissing him.

“I think…I think you should get cleaned up…quickly.” You say between kisses and strokes of his tongue.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” Jungkooks mouth travels from your lips to your jaw, nipping with his teeth as he goes.

“Can I show you?” The high you’re on is making you feel so bold.

“Please.” He pecks your lips and pulls away from you, he knows what you want.

You put a hand to his chest between his very defined pecks, sliding it between the muscles and down over the hard planes of his stomach until you reach his cock, hot and hard in your hand. You watch his face for any dislike, but he only put his hand over yours and makes you tighten your grip.

You don’t want to waste time, you want to hear him fall apart with his cock down your throat. You lean forward and lick one of his nipples, sucking it gently. Jungkook lets his head fall back against the shower wall, pulling his pierced lip between his teeth.

You lick up some water drops on your way down his body. His perfectly sculpted body that you most certainly take note of, gently getting to your knees in front of him, looking up to meet his eyes one more time before opening your mouth to take his cock inside.

Jungkook hisses through his teeth when you start to suck. Gently at first, short, shallow motions as you bob your head. You look up to see the muscles of his stomach tighten over and over the deeper you take him. It’s when you add your tongue that he really starts to make noise above you.

“That’s so good, baby. Keep going, just like that.” Jungkook touches your jaw and your cheek his fingers, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You let him start to move his hips and thrust into your mouth and throat. You gag a couple of times, but you don’t want him to stop. The pretty moans and whimpers he’s making are too perfect to stop, so you dig your nails into the backs of his thighs and hold on for dear life when he starts move faster.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Jungkook smoothed back your hair and brought your face up so he could see your eyes. The eye contact seems to do him in. “Shit, shit, baby. Gonna cum…” He throws his head back in a long drawn out groan just as hot spurts of cum start to fill your throat.

You close your eyes and take everything that he gives you, slowing the motions of your head bobbing until he’s done, lazily licking the tip of his cock until he stops you.

“Was that okay?” You look up at him innocently, knowing that he’s wrecked at the moment.

“You’re fucking perfect.” His head is back against the shower wall as he laughs quietly.

You start to feel the ache in your knees, quickly wiping your mouth with your hand before you feel Jungkook wrap an arm around your waist to help you up. He smiles, then grabs some soap from the shelf behind you and scrubs himself clean with it, all you can seem to do is stand there in awe.

The desperation to be touched was becoming almost unbearable, but you try to keep your composure, letting Jungkook turn off the water and hand you a white fully hotel towel to dry off with. You both quickly take another drag from the slow burning joint on the counter, then move back into the bedroom area.

Jungkook has his white towel ties low on his slender hips. He’s walking around the room as if he’s looking for something and you aren’t sure what it could possibly be.

“Did you lose something?” You ask, taking a few steps closer to him.

“I had a necktie that I wore to dinner last night…” He tosses some things around in his suitcases.

“What do you need a necktie for?” The words left your mouth before your brain could catch up. But it suddenly dawns on you what he might be wanting to do with the necktie. “Oh…”

“Are you comfortable with that?” Jungkook gets down on his knees in front of the bed, flipping up the blankets and bed skirt to look beneath it.

“It would be…new, for me.” You tighten your hold on the towel wrapped around your body.

“All you have to do is tell me to stop, and I will. No questions asked, if you don’t like it.” Jungkook reaches under the bed and pulls out a red necktie. “Found it.”

“Yeah…I can try it.” You nibble on your bottom lip and nervously cross the rest of the space to the bed.

“So good for me.” Jungkook closes any remaining space between the two of you and kisses your waiting lips. His kiss draws out all the nerves and turns them into lust. “Lay down with your hands above your head, wrists crossed.” The smallest bit of authority in his voice makes your pussy ache in such a delicious way. “And get rid of this.” He undoes the loose knot of your towel and lets it fall to the ground around your ankles.

You let him gently touch your bare hip before he’s moving to the other side of the bed. He watches intently as you climb onto the oversized bed, laying your head on the fluffed pillows with your arms above your head and wrists crossed, just as he asked.

“I’m ready.” You release a long breath, eyes coming back to Jungkook, whose eyes are shamelessly roaming your naked body.

“I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.” Jungkook says, wrapping and unwrapping the silky red material around his knuckles. “But I’m ready to have a taste of you.”

You shiver, watching as Jungkook kneels up onto the bed, raising his hand above your body and letting the silk tie just barely ghost over your skin. He starts at your ankle, moving it up your calf, over both thighs and purposely avoiding the ache between your legs.

“Please hurry up, Jungkook.” Your body arches away from the mattress when the silky material brushes over one of your nipples.

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” Jungkook coos, having mercy and wrapping your wrists up into the tie, attaching it to the headboard. “If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to be patient.”

You can barely take your eyes away from the sight of his naked body, until his mouth is suddenly on you. His mouth and tongue are having absolutely no mercy on your breasts and nipples. He groans each time he pulls a bud between his lips. The tie around your wrists is a torture you didn’t know that you needed.

“Jungkook…” You moan his name and he absolutely adores the sound of it. So much so, that he takes mercy and moves his body down the bed and settles between your thighs, his mouth quickly buried between them. “Oh fuck…” You pull at the binding, wishing your hands could lace into the blue strands of hair bobbing between your legs.

The mercy you thought you were receiving before is long gone. Jungkook is relentless with his tongue and lips. Long strokes of his tongue offset by quick sucks to your clit. It’s absolutely maddening.

You’re pulling at the tie so hard that you know you’ll have bruises on your skin in the morning. But the thought of it quickly passes when you feel Jungkook bury his mouth in your pussy, his nose brushing your clit as he moves his head back and forth in quick succession. You manage to look down between your legs just in time to meet his lust filled eyes, seeing him devouring you sends you over the edge hard and fast.

White flashes pop in and out of your vision as your body tries to recover from the insane orgasm you just experienced. Jungkook hums low in his chest as he licks up everything you’ve given him, kissing the insides of both your thighs as he stands up from the bed to look down at you.

“Do you think that you deserve my cock?” Jungkook stands at the end of the bed, tattooed hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily.

“I’ve been good, haven’t I?” You pant and squirm against the satin sheets, hands and arms still above your head. He watches your face carefully.

“The things I want to do to you…” He bites into his bottom lip as he continues to touch himself in front of you. “But I have to get my cock inside that pretty pussy of yours before I explode.”

Your chest heaved up and down at the thought of him finally fucking you. You were so desperate that you knew you would do anything he asked of you.

“Can you please untie me now?” You needed to touch his body…his skin…his muscles….feel his hair. All of it.

“Look what you do to me, pretty girl.” He ignores your request, making you whine at the lack of attention to what you wanted, but also at the way he’s spreading pre-cum up and down the length of his cock.

“I want you so badly, Jungkook. Please.” You move your hips up as he climbs back onto the bed and kneels between your open legs. His eyes saunter down your body until they get to your pussy, big hands pushing your thighs further apart so he can get a better look.

“You’re so wet. Thinking about my cock made you drip like this?” He scoots closer, the head of his cock so close to where you want it. You pull at the tie on your wrists again.

“Untie me…please.” You beg again.

“Here’s what I’m going to do.” Jungkook ignores you again, making you want to cry. “I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going fuck you hard and fast. And I want you to tell me how good it makes you feel. Make sure the people in the room next door know how badly you wanted my cock.” Jungkook kisses your stomach and then your hip. It’s so gentle compared to the way he then reaches down and roughly grabs the globes of your ass, lining you up with his cock just the way he wants you.

“Please…” You can’t bear it anymore, the build up has been so intense you can feel tears start to leak from the corners of your eyes.

“Be loud for me.” Jungkook doesn’t wait anymore, he impales you on his cock, easily sliding inside with how wet you’ve become. But you still feel the ache of the stretch as you try to accommodate all of him at once.

You moan loudly, just the way he wanted. Pulling at your binds and cursing yourself over and over for agreeing to be tied up. Jungkook keeps his hands on your hips as he starts his ruthless pace.

You can feel sweat forming on your forehead already as your stomach begins to tighten with another orgasm. His perfect cock finds that spot inside you with ease and abuses it over and over again.

“Untie me…god Jungkook please…please.” Your face is wet with tears from pleasure as well as frustration.

“You’ve been so good, haven’t you? I think I can do that.” He bends down to kiss your mouth, something he hadn’t done for what seemed like hours. While he kisses you, he moves one hand from your hip to the red silky tie on your wrists and pulls the knot free.

As soon as you feel it loosen, you rip your hands away from the head board and dig them into his blueberry colored hair, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper. Jungkook smiles at the desperation. He loves it in fact.

You move your hands down and let your nails dig slightly into his skin as he continues to piston his hips against yours. Jungkook groans at the feeling.

“Come here.” He practically growls, sitting up on his knees and bringing you with him. Your arms wrap around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, putting you in a somewhat riding position. Jungkook is able to fuck up into while on his knees, but keep you close. “You’re so fucking perfect.” His mouth is sloppy as it moves along your neck and collarbones.

“I’m going to cum again…you’re so deep.” Your mouth finds his, kissing him and breathing him in.

“You don’t need my permission, I want you to cream my cock. I want all of it.” Jungkook leans back on his hands, making the angle of his hips hit you even deeper than before. Your hands grip at his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he fucks you through another mind shattering orgasm. “You’re squeezing me so tight baby.” Jungkook's voice breaks off in a moan as you clench around him over and over.

“Please cum, Jungkook. I need it.” Your body feels boneless, but you can feel how close Jungkook is starting to get to his own end. “You’re fucking me so well…but I need you to come.”

“Your pussy feels too good…gonna cum.” Jungkook buries his face in your neck and buries his cock as deep as he can get as he finishes inside you. You feel warmth full you up and drip down your thighs as his thrusts come to a halt.

You both stay still for a moment, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. Your fingers mindlessly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You’re okay?” He finally asks, bringing his face out of your neck to look at you.

“I’m great.” You laugh quietly. Jungkook smiles, then reaches behind his neck for your hands, bringing them around so he can look at your wrists.

“Does it hurt? They look like they might bruise…” His thumbs gently brush over your skin.

“I think I’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt now.” You watch him bring your wrists to his lips, pressing kisses up down each one.

“Do you want to sleep here?” He asks, softly lifting you from his lap and letting his softening cock fall from inside you, he looks at you concerned when you whimper.

“I can just…I can go home.” You scoot back on the mattress when Jungkook stands up from the bed. You didn’t want to overstay. You wouldn’t ever see him again, there wasn’t much point in staying.

“Are you sure? I can have my car take you home in the morning…or now. Whatever you prefer.” He then disappears into the bathroom and brings back a washcloth for you to clean up with.

“I’ll just get dressed.” You awkwardly clean up with the washcloth before heading to the bathroom to put it in the hamper and find your clothes.

You dress in a daze, but once you’re ready you back out into the room to find Jungkook in a pair of underwear sitting on the corner of the bed with his phone to his ear. You rub your hands on your thighs while you wait for him to finish.

“My driver is ready to take you home.” He pushes his blue hair back and tosses his phone onto the night stand.

“Thanks.” You continue to stand there without a clue what to do or say. “I’ll just…go.” You point at the door and start walking towards it.

“Wait!” Jungkook says just as you turn the handle. “At least leave me your number? If you’d be interested in seeing me next time I’m in town?” He grabs his phone again and crosses the room to stand with you. You wish you could stop the smile on your face.

“Sure.” You tap your number into his phone and hand it back. “See you around, Jungkook.” You kiss his cheek, but that is apparently not what he had in mind.

Jungkook grabs your chin in his tattooed hand and kisses you on the lips. It’s a kiss that tries to trick you into thinking that maybe he’s actually serious about seeing you again one day. It feels too complex.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’d like it if you texted me when you made it home.” He pecks your lips once more, then releases your chin and takes a step back.

“Yeah, I can do that. Goodnight, Jungkook.” You open the door and step into the hallway, looking back just once more to see him smile down at the floor before the door closes.

#btsdreamcourt #btsgoldnet #btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #btshoneyhive #ksmutclub #btswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock #52hertz #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #bangtan fanfic #bts #jungkook #btscarnivalnet

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oftenderweapons · 4 months

Text

Down The Rabbit Hole | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Fawn)

Wordcount: 12.5k

Genre: one shot, pwp, smut, fluff, only mild angst, fwb au (?) kinda(?)?, divorced! seokjin, dilf!seokjin

Rating: 18+, minors please do not read or interact

Synopsis: Seokjin has been meeting Fawn at The Rabbit Hole for a while now. A place of debauchery and foregone inhibitions, and yet only one rule would not budge. Will Fawn finally have a taste of the forbidden fruit?

Warnings: DILF!Seokjin (it's a trigger warning in and of itself), oral sex (female receiving, attempt at male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), degradation kink, corruption kink, handcuffs, sex toys (vaginal sphere), dry humping, unprotected sex, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breast slapping, voyeurism & exhibitionism. Mentions of divorce procedures, mentions of Seokjin's three precious daughters. Brief cameo of our lovely darlings Namjoon & Mia.

As always, thanking the magical girlie that made this fic a bit more coherent @nervous-moon and the special friends that made me get here. Also, a special thank you to past me, who persevered and got off birth control for this fic LOL

As always, please remember that showing some love to fics will power authors through the major struggles of this platform and will eventually make them write bigger, better, bolder fics 💕

You’ve known Seokjin for two months. He’s stunning, he’s smart, he’s friendly and adorably chirpy — before the games begin.

Here's my masterlist, enjoy you spicy little nuggets