#bts imagines
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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag
↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader
⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband
⤜ Rating: MA 🔞
⤜ WC: 18,286
⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity, rejected/unwanted drunken kissing that could be viewed as dubious infidelity
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
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Jungkook
Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.
“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.
“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.
Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”
Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.
Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.
After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.
It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.
Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.
There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.
💔💔💔
Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.
Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.
You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.
“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.
Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.
“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.
“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.
Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.
“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.
“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.
Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.
“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”
You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.
That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.
“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.
“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”
You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”
“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”
Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.
As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.
Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.
You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.
“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.
You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”
“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”
Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.
“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.
Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.
“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”
“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.
Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.
Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.
Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.
“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.
“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.
“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.
You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.
“It’s, uh…”
“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”
You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”
They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.
You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.
“Isn’t that right?” he asks.
“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.
“You’re healthy.”
That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”
“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.
“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”
“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”
The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.
“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.
“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it.
Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”
“I’d do it.”
Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.
“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.
“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.
You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.
“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”
Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.
“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”
Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”
Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”
“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”
“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.
“Um, no. You know I don’t—”
“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.
“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.
Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”
“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.
“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”
Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”
“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”
Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”
“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.
You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”
“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.
“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”
Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.
Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.
“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.
“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.
Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.
You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.
It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.
Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”
“Hm? Who?”
“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”
You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”
Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.
Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.
💔💔💔
Jungkook
The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.
But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?
“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”
Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”
“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.
“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”
She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.
“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”
There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.
Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”
Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”
“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”
“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.
Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”
“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.
“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.
Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.
“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”
Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.
“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”
An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.
The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”
“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”
“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”
The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”
Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.
“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.
A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”
“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”
You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”
“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.
Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.
“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”
“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”
Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.
“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.
He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”
“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”
“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.
This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.
💔💔💔
The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.
You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.
There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.
That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.
Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.
Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.
“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.
You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”
Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”
It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.
Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.
“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”
“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”
“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”
The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.
“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.
“Jungkook.”
“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.
“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”
“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.
“Why? What’s up?”
You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”
Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”
“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”
“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.
According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.
You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.
“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”
“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.
“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”
A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”
Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”
“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”
“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.
A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.
It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.
Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.
You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.
All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.
The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.
By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.
“Hi,” he breathes.
“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”
“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.
“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.
Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”
“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.
The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”
“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”
“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”
It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”
“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”
You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”
There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”
“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.
“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch.
Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.
“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”
Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.
“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.
Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”
After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.
“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.
Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”
You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”
“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.
Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.
“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”
“Seems pretty simple, right?”
You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”
“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”
“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”
It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.
After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.
The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”
You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”
You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”
The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.
“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.
You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.
The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.
Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.
The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.
By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.
“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.
You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.
“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.
“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.
“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”
Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”
Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.
“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.
“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”
“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”
“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.
“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”
“I understand.”
Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.
“I��m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”
“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.
You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.
“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.
“I think so.”
Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”
Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.
“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.
Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?”
Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.
“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.
“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”
Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.
“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.
“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”
“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.
Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.
“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.
Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.
“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.
“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”
You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”
”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”
“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”
Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”
It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”
”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”
If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…
You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”
”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”
“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”
Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.
“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.
”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.
“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.”
You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.
You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.
When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”
💔💔💔
Jungkook
It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.
The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.
Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.
Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.
Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.
With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.
It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.
When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.
Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.
He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.
“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”
Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.
“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.
Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”
Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.
“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”
Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.
“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”
“Hi, guys.”
“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”
“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.
The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.
“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”
The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.
“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.
“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”
“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”
Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.
“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”
You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.
There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”
It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.
“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.
Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.
“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.
“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”
Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.
“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI.
“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”
“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.
“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.
Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”
“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”
“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”
“I love you, too, Jungkook.”
💔💔💔
Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.
“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.
“Yes?”
“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.
You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”
Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.
“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”
“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.
“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.
She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.
“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”
She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”
“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”
Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”
Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.
“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.
Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”
She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”
“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”
“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”
“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”
💔💔💔
Jungkook
Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.
One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.
Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.
“You missed it.”
“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”
Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.
Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”
“She? It could be a boy.”
“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.
Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”
“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.
“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”
“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”
Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.
Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.
Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.
Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.
There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.
It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.
“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.
“Hey, is everything okay?”
“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”
“I’m on my way!”
“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”
He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.
“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”
“O-okay.”
The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.
Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.
It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.
“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”
You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”
Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”
“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”
“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.
You nod. “Yeah.”
Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.
“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”
Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.
“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.
“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”
“Oh, she’s not—”
“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.
“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”
Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.
What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.
“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”
Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.
“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.
“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.
This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.
“Kinda weird, huh?”
“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.
He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.
“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”
“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.
“Of course.”
Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.
“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”
The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”
“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.
“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”
Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.
“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.
“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”
The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.
Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.
Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.
“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”
Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”
The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”
Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.
“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”
A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.
Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.
“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.
“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.
You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”
“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”
“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.
“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.
“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”
The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.
“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.
“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”
Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.
“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.
“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.
The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”
It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.
Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”
“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.
Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.
“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”
When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.
Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.
“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.
“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.
“Is everything okay?”
Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”
“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.
“Where have you been?”
“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”
“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”
“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”
“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”
Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…
“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”
Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”
“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.
It doesn’t work.
“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”
“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.
“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”
Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”
“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”
Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”
“That is not what happened at all!”
“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”
“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”
The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”
Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”
Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”
She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”
Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon)
◅ Back to story masterlist
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©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2
#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#dilf jungkook#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook imagines#bts smut#bts angst#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#bts imagines#bangtanwhq#btsfests
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room for two | jjk (masterlist)
As you signed the contract, you thought all your problems were solved—and so did he. However, no one can predict what life will throw your way.
Despite your prejudices, this journey will reveal that the bond you share goes deeper than your womb. - a series from the “Misfit Parent Collection”
title: Room For Two
pairing: heir/retired boxer!jeon jungkook x single mother!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, smut, slow burn, pregnancy/surrogacy au, strangers to lovers; 18+
warnings: not suitable for audiences under the age of 18. contains graphic descriptions of pregnancy and childbirth, violence, divorce/broken homes & infidelity, mature content, and health related topics.
status: ongoing
current wc: //
chapters:
༘♡ prologue (coming soon)
story talk
༘♡ character asks: all | jungkook | reader
༘♡ chapter talk: all | prologue
༘♡ character posts: all | jungkook | reader
extras
༘♡ playlists: for the vibes
༘♡ teasers: synopsis
༘♡ visuals: moodboards
story taglist:
༘♡ must be 18+ to join
༘♡ fill out the form. (no emails are collected)
permanent taglist:
༘♡ must be 18+ to join
༘♡ fill out the form. (no emails are collected)
*note: you do not need to fill out both.
quick links:
navigation | masterlist | ko-fi | schedule | updates | read on ao3
all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, claim as your own, or translate.©aaagustd, 2023 -[note]minors are prohibited from reading and engaging with any 18+ material.
[banners and dividers by @itaeewon]
#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fics#jungkook fics#jungkook imagines#bts imagines#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#aaagustd.fics
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HOME pt.1
Jin x Reader
Summary: You and Jin discover that you are expecting your first child, but are faced with challenges that neither of you could imagine.
Warnings: topics related to pregnancy that could be considered controversial.
Jin and the guys were about to start shooting In the Soop when I got the news I would be allowed on set with them. I had been dating Jin for two years now, but never got the chance to see him in his work element. I was so busy with work myself that I rarely had the time to visit him or even know what all went on behind the scenes.
Unfortunately, I had been sick for the past two weeks and Jin did not feel comfortable leaving me home. Since I had moved to South Korea alone, I didn’t have anyone to care for me, leaving the only option of going on set. It was entirely Jin’s idea to have me near him in case my sickness worsened.
When we arrived, everything was going smoothly for me. I made it to my room which was separate from the main house so I wouldn’t be seen by any of the cameras. I had my own space that Jin could come see me anytime, not to mention the beautiful view outside my window. Although I felt a little isolated I didn’t mind. It was peaceful being in nature, not having to work and only focusing on getting better. Plus I got to spend some time with Jin.
I put on my lounge wear and got into bed immediately after unpacking. I had been exhausted, I had flu symptoms that were out of this world. Some days all I could do was stay hunched over the toilet for hours at a time. After a while it started to take a toll on my body causing me to be tired all the time. I knew once my head hit my pillow I was going to be out like a light.
I heard a soft knock at my door. I sat up to see Jin’s head peaking through. I smiled as he walked his way over to me. He sat on the bed with his long slender frame. He looked at me with his stare lingering down to my lips. I quickly pressed my lips against his causing him to blush. He pulled me in for a hug, pushing me down back on the bed attacking me with kisses. I started to giggle.
“I’m so glad you’re here with me. I wish you felt a little better though.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. As I was about to kiss him, I felt the sudden urge to throw up. I moved him away, rushing into the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat up and all the contents from my stomach came rushing out. Jin stood behind me rubbing my back. I tried to apologize but I was too sick to even speak.
I heard Jin sigh. Being this sick was almost unbearable. I had never felt this bad in my life. I wanted to cry and apologize, but nothing ever came out.
We heard someone yell out Jin’s name to signal him to come back for a side interview. He rubbed my back one more time kissing my forehead. He left the bathroom. I curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor simply because I was too weak to get up. I started to cry because having no control over my body for two weeks was causing me to suffer. Then it suddenly dawned on me. The light bulb went off and I gathered the strength to figure out what was behind this sudden illness.
I sat on the bed holding the slender object in my hand. Hours had passed and I had not seen Jin since earlier. I heard on a knock on the door and it was Jin. I hide the object in my hoodie pocket. I grabbed his hand and walked him over to the bathroom again. I turned off his mic as if I was a secret informant who couldn’t have this conversation get to anyone else.
I took the object out my pocket and handed it to Jin. He looked at it. I watched his expression closely. Nothing changed. Absolutely no reaction. He handed it back to me.
“Jin say something.” He ran his hand through his hair.
“We can’t.” Those words cut me like a knife. “We can’t have a kid right now. The timing is not good.” I looked at him shocked. His facial expression shifted from panic to a realization of what he had said. “I didn’t mean that.”
“So I’m gonna have to raise this baby alone? Like you said it’s not a good time for you.” I shoved him away. He grabbed my arm and wrapped his arms around me. I cried against his shoulder. He held me close almost as if it were for dear life. I could feel his breathing quicken and his heart was pounding.
Jin pulled me away and rubbed his thumb against my cheek. I cleaned my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. He lifted my chin to look up at him. I could tell he was about to get serious. Before he could speak I cut him off.
“I want this baby.” He had no verbal response, he only pulled me back in for a long embrace.
“I want it too. I’m sorry I reacted that way, it’s just that it’s sudden. I thought I’d be married first. I thought you’d get to know my family better, not to mention I haven’t met yours yet. I thought it would be different.” I nodded my head in agreement. I thought it would be different as well, but these were the cards we were dealt. It was starting to make sense. All the sickness, me barely being able to stay awake during work, constantly bloated.
He grabbed my hand and took me over to the bed. We laid down and cuddled for a while. The entire time he kept his hand on my stomach, nearly imagining what was about to be. Jin checked his phone and saw that he had 5 missed messages telling him to come back to the main house. He left again and I was stuck there to face the reality alone. My mind excited, my body weak.
The next day I managed to go unseen. I got a ride to the doctors so that Jin and I could confirm if I was really pregnant. The doctor gave me the news I was already expecting. I was 9 weeks pregnant, however I was blindsided when I immediately found out this pregnancy could cost me mine and the baby’s life. I sat on that doctor’s chair frozen. The drive back I felt absolutely numb.
I got back into my room and crawled into bed. The room was spinning and everything felt like it was a dream. Jin walked in without knocking this time to make sure I was okay.
“What did the doctor say?” Jin said inquisitively.
“He said that it’s a high risk pregnancy. I could have this baby but there is a-“ I paused for a moment to clear the lump out of my throat. “There is a chance that I and/or the baby might die.” The last word nearly took Jin’s breath away. He sat on the bed immediately taking in the news he just heard. “Before you say anything, I still think we should keep this baby.” He looked at me with a stern face. He rubbed his tongue on his inner cheek to contain what I assumed was anger.
“No.”
“Jin, I want this baby.”
“No Y/N, our story isn’t going to end with me losing you. You can’t. I don’t want you to. I can’t lose the thing that jolted me back to reality. I’m not losing you.” I started to get teary eyed. I understood his pain. Although it had been two years of dating, I had found my best friend. Now there was a chance that that would be taken from the both of us or we would have to grieve the pain of losing a baby.
“Jin.” I whispered. He looked at me with tears flowing down his cheek. The door suddenly opened and we both looked. It was a PA telling Jin to go back again. He collected himself and stood up. Before he left the room he turned back to look at me.
“I can’t lose you Y/N.”
#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts reader#bts x reader#bts#bts jin#jin x reader#jin imagine#jin#kim soekjin#soekjin x reader#bts soekjin
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︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑80'S SLASHER!JK (THE COLLECTION)︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙊𝙉𝙀: Girls on Film
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙏𝙒𝙊: Chick-Yellow Bathroom
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀: Just a Game
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍: Cat-Killer Kuriosity
ִ ࣪𖤐𝙏𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙁𝙄𝙑𝙀: Qu'est-ce que c'est?
#❗slasher! jk thoughts#bts imagines#bts#bts fanfic#bts smut#jimin smut#jungkook smut#jimin imagine#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#taehyung fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook x oc#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#bts dark fic#bts au
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#jazz#stylish#jules vaughn#addams family values#bts imagines#friendship quotes#kny smut#homework#Captain Swan#the foxhole court#genshin fanfic#Elden Ring
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https://stephanie-065.ludgu.top/i/Uanj1XM
#sans undertale#sheith#fitness motivation#bts imagines#the foxhole court#pankhurikunallkoblog#cl#fnaf gregory#comic#dark academia vibes#polyamory
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THROUGH THICK AND THIN
My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works
Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human!fem reader
Word count: 2,280
Note: This is from my first BTS imagines book on Wattpad from 2018. This version is the rewritten 2024 version! ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500 FOLLOWERS!!!! WOW
It was early afternoon and you and your best friend, Jungkook, were at your place sitting on the couch watching a movie together. The film of choice was a vampire movie—one of your favorites. Your eyes were glued to the screen, knowing exactly what was about to happen, as the both of you had seen the movie roughly a hundred times.
Someone (a vampire) was about to jump out at the main character, you both saw it coming. At the same moment the person jumped out in the film, Jungkook grabbed you and shouted loudly causing you to yelp in response.
The force from his sudden and lighthearted attack caused you to fall over onto your back, thankful that you were on the couch.
Jungkook hovered over you with a mischievous grin, giving you no time to react as he pretended to bite your neck by making playful growling sounds and nuzzling his nose against your skin.
"Jungkook stop!" You begged through giggles, the ticklish sensation making it hard to speak.
"I'm a vampire!" He exclaimed, continuing to act silly.
You were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe, making minimal effort to stop him due to all your squirming. After a few attempts, you were finally able to push him away a little. He took that as a sign to stop and propped himself up to gaze down at you, the movie long forgotten.
"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?" He asked, his tone lighthearted.
"Hypothetically?"
"Of course."
You huffed out a light chuckle, amused by his question and always up for a little theoretical discussion about things like that.
"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
He grinned.
"But vampires aren't real, so I know you're not one."
His smile faltered a bit. "Yeah. They're not, are they?"
"But if they were, I wouldn't be bothered."
His smile returned.
He leaned down and gave you a light kiss on your forehead. Affectionate gestures like that weren't uncommon in your friendship, however, they didn't help your crush on Jungkook. As much as you had wanted to confess your feelings, you were also afraid that you were misinterpreting the gestures. Some people are just very affectionate, though you couldn't really recall anyone you knew that platonically kissed their friends.
"Do you like me or something?" The question was asked teasingly and in a playful manner, but you were hoping to get a serious response.
"What?" He asked, surprise lacing his tone.
"Well, you're always giving me little kisses on my face. Do you like me?" You tried to keep your tone light, playing it off as if you were just teasing him.
His expression changed and his eyes avoided yours. "Well..." He trailed off.
The mood shifted, turning more serious.
"Don't be afraid to be honest with me, Jungkook. We've known each other for three years." You encouraged him.
"Yes." He sighed, his eyes closing as if to avoid seeing your reaction.
"I knew it!"
"Y/n, don't embarrass me about it." He huffed.
"Why should you feel embarrassed? I feel the same way about you."
"You feel the same way?"
"Was it not obvious? I let you give me kisses all the time and cuddle with me. I don't ever push you away or tell you to stop. Could you not take a hint?"
"No?" He said it like a question.
"You big goober." You giggled and delivered a light smack to his shoulder.
"I'm not a goober." He defended through laughter. "I just wasn't sure how you felt. That's all."
Your joint laughter soon faded and the room went completely silent, the atmosphere changing in a matter of seconds. Jungkook stared down at you with his big and innocent-looking doe eyes that never failed to make your heart leap. He gulped nervously.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked.
"You kiss me all the ti-"
"On the lips." He specified.
The beating of your heart sped up at his request, only managing to utter a meek, "Yeah."
He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you softly, being very gentle and almost hesitant in his actions at first. Only when you reciprocated did he pick up the pace, pressing his lips closer to yours and kissing you harder. What you were experiencing in that moment was nothing like you had ever imagined (and you did imagine it... many times). Raven strands of Jungkook's lengthy hair caressed your forehead as they fell, untucking themselves from behind his heavily pierced ears. The faint ticklish sensation paired with the feeling of his lips moving against your own and his hand that had found its way to your waist was a combination that made your head spin.
Bringing your hands up to his luscious hair, you slid your fingers between the layers of wavy tendrils, playing with his locks. He seemed to like that, as he released a mix between a groan and a sigh against your lips that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. It was after that he began to get rougher. His hands gripped your waist and then one of your thighs, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. The pace of his breathing got heavier and you could've sworn you heard a faint growl from the back of his throat.
He pulled away for only a moment, reattaching his lips to your jawline, his piercing dragging against your skin making your eyelids flutter. He placed hot kisses down the side of your neck where he started nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands went back to squeezing your waist, the inhuman grip making you wince.
As much as you enjoyed the moment, it was now getting to a point where it was no longer enjoyable for you and his intensity was making you nervous.
"J-Jungkook." You didn't mean to stutter, but things were heating up very fast and he didn't seem to realize how uncomfortable you were.
He nipped harshly at your neck, making you release a small squeak of surprise.
"Jungkook!"
As if your voice had broke through an invisible barrier, Jungkook snapped out of his daze and pulled away. He was breathing so heavily his shoulders were heaving up and down. His eyes were wide with fear as if he realized he was about to do something terrible.
He looked scared.
"What was that all about?" You inquired.
"I-I have to go." He scrambled off you and went to grab his keys.
"Jungkook-"
"I need to go right now, Y/n." His voice was firm as he spoke, walking out of your apartment without another word or even an explanation.
You sat there dumbfounded.
The door to your apartment slammed shut and just like that, you were left a confused and flustered mess on the couch.
He was in such a hurry to leave, barely managing to speak without stumbling over his words, it had you worried.
Was it something you did? Did he regret kissing you?
The longer you sat on the couch, stewing in your anxious thoughts, the worse you felt. It got to a point where it became unbearable and you found yourself reaching for your phone.
You
If I did something wrong, I'm sorry
You sighed, leaning your head back on the couch cushions to stare at the ceiling, memorizing the texture while worrisome thoughts flooded your mind once again.
After sitting for an unknown amount of time, you decided to go check on Jungkook in person. He hadn't responded to your text and it was beginning to worry you. If you had somehow done something to make him uncomfortable, you wanted to know and you wanted it taken care of right away. The both of you had been through thick and thin together. Good times and bad times. And if something was bothering either one of you, you talked about it.
The first place you drove to was a nearby park, a place where the both of you liked spending time at, but Jungkook was nowhere to be found. If he needed to clear his head, you assumed he would've been there. The only other place he could possibly be was home.
It didn't take long for you to arrive at his apartment building since he lived nearby. You hastened inside and went straight to his floor.
When you arrived at his front door, you didn't bother knocking. The both of you had been friends for years and neither of you usually knocked when you visited each other.
You stepped inside and saw Jungkook's keys lying on the floor along with the glass dish that usually held them. The bowl looked as if it had been knocked over and a huge piece was broken off of it.
Oh no.
Your first thought was that he was hurt, or maybe someone had broken in. You hoped it was neither.
"Jungkook?" You called out.
"Y/n?" His startled voice came from the kitchen.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." He answered frantically.
"The glass dish by your door is broken. I thought you cut yourself."
"No. I'm fine."
You proceeded towards the kitchen, only for him to speak up when he heard you approaching the entryway.
"Don't come in here!"
"Why not?"
"I-uh I lied. I did cut myself. Sorry. I didn't want you to worry about me."
"I can help if you want." You responded, stepping into the kitchen.
"No please don-" Jungkook tried to stop you, but before he could finish his sentence, you were already standing in the doorway.
What you had expected to see was nowhere near the sight you were met with.
Jungkook's beautiful and captivating rich brown eyes were a deep shade of red, his mouth smeared with blood that matched his crimson irises. As if that wasn't jarring enough, you spotted two sharp fangs poking out of his mouth, which hung slightly agape in shock.
"Y/n. Don't freak out."
"You're a..." The sentence went unfinished, as your voice was stuck in your throat. You were too stunned to even utter the word that floated about in your head.
"Please don't be scared."
Jungkook took a step towards you, but you instinctively took one back, your actions making him frown.
Too overwhelmed, you spun around and took off towards the front door, jerking it open and bolting out as fast as you could.
You didn't get very far when your legs slowed and you came to a complete stop in the hallway as your rational thinking finally kicked in. What were you doing?
Jungkook's words from earlier that night replayed in your head.
"What would you do if I was actually a vampire?"
Your expression fell into one of disappointment, your heart sinking. It wasn't just a silly question. He was being serious when he asked you that.
Your words came to the forefront of your mind, hitting you like a knife to the chest.
"I wouldn't care. Vampires are literally my favorite supernatural creature. Plus, it's you. I know you wouldn't hurt me."
Why were you running away? What you said to him earlier was true, though you assumed the question was theoretical. Still, your answer was genuine. And yet, here you are standing in the hallway of his apartment building ready to flee like a scared animal.
Not only that, but it was clear Jungkook didn't want you to see him like that. He tried to stop you from coming into the kitchen and yet, you ignored him. If only you had listened. Then again, you thought he was hurt. You were worried. How were you supposed to know he was only trying to hide his identity from you?
There was no time for overthinking, you had to make things right.
Spinning around on your heel, you hurried back inside Jungkook's apartment.
When you found him, he was leaned over the kitchen counter, sniffling. His head shot up when he heard you enter the room.
"Y/n?" Your name was uttered weakly.
Clearly, he wasn't expecting you to return.
The blood had been cleaned from around his mouth and his appearance had returned to normal.
"I'm sorry." Your apology came out in a pathetically feeble voice, your jaw clenching to stop the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes.
Wasting no time, you ran up and hugged him as tightly as you possibly could. He wrapped his arms around you, relaxing in your hold as a sense of relief washed over him like a soothing wave.
"You asked me what I would think if you were actually a vampire. I answered honestly, though I thought you were just asking silly hypothetical questions. Now I see why you asked it in the first place." You sighed. "I'm really sorry for running away. I was caught off guard and unable to process everything."
"It's okay. That's completely understandable. Besides, I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you."
You pulled back and looked at him, gently wiping his cheeks where he had been crying.
"Hey. Through thick and thin. Remember?"
He nodded.
"So... we confessed to each other earlier. Does that mean I'm dating a vampire?"
Jungkook chuckled. "I suppose it does. As long as you're okay with that."
"Are you kidding? I'm more than okay with it."
He grinned at your response, swiftly sweeping you into his arms.
"What do you say we pick up where we left off earlier?"
"I like the sound of that." You giggled as he attached his lips to yours and carried you off to his room.
Jimin ♱ Yoongi ♱ Taehyung ♱ Namjoon ♱ Hoseok ♱ Jin [COMING SOON]
Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!
DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way
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#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x y/n#jungkook x y/n#jeon jungkook x you#jungkook x you#bts vampire au#bts imagines#bts oneshot#bts scenarios#jungkook vampire au
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#jungkook#jeongguk#red moodboard#jeon jungkook#jungkook icon#jeongguk icons#bangtan#jk packs#bts#kpop#moodboard#jungkook aesthetic#jk aesthetic#red aesthetic#jungkook layouts#jk layouts#bangtan jk#red layouts#jeongguk packs#jungkook packs#bangtan jungkook#bts imagines
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Summary: Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Y/N and Jungkook love each other but when familiar and new faces come into their lives, things get complicated. On top of that, a surprise that truly shakes their plans for the future. Will their relationship push forward or will Jungkook lose his fangirl once and for all?
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Thirty: The World Of Being An Idol
→ Genre: Idol au, established relationships, girl group stan au, social media au, K-pop fan page au, romance, angst, comedy, and smut
→ Main pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Fan girl! Reader
→ Side ships: Yoongi x OC & Jin x OC
→ Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, alcohol usage, anxiety disorder, stalking, and obsessive behavior
⇜ Masterlist ⇝
Y/N stared at her phone and sighed. She tossed it on the bed as she sat on the edge with a worried face. Today was the interview and she knew it needed to be done but now that the day has come, it's scary. The whole world knows about her and they keep asking about her. She saw the tweets that were accusing her of using Jungkook to meet the girl groups she loved and how she wasn’t in love with him. She knows the truth and that's all that matters but it still made her feel so small. Jungkook opened the door and frowned when he saw her looking at the floor with a blank expression. He slowly walked up to her and sat next to her. She looked up and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Are you okay, babe?”
“I’m not sure. I think I’m just nervous....I saw what people were saying about me.”
He glanced at her phone and then back at her, “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know about us.”
“I know...it just hurts.”
“Ignore them. I know it's easier said than done but I’ll be here for you.”
She looked up at him and nodded his head, “Do you think they will accept me?”
“The real fans will. I love you and only you. If they support me then they will love you. If not for you, I wouldn’t sing and if not for you, I would be in hell. You’re my ending and my beginning. My wife. We will get through this together, no matter what.”
He pushed some hair away from her forehead as she let a tear escape, “I love you, Jeongguk.”
“I love you, Y/N. Let’s go before it gets darker.”
“Okay.”
She stood up and glanced at the mirror with a worried look. She looked at Jungkook with a frown, “Is this okay?” She was wearing a simple black dress that showed off her shoulder and around her neck was the necklace that Jungkook gifted her for Christmas. She looked beautiful in his eyes.
Of course, he was matching her and leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead, “You look perfect.”
“Do I?”
“Always.”
The car ride there happened so fast that Y/N couldn’t even process anything. She didn’t even realize she was at Bighit’s building until Jungkook rubbed her thigh, “Babe, we're here.”
She looked away from the window and nodded her head, “Okay...we’re not doing pictures right? Like no photoshoot?”
“No, photoshoot. It’s just going to be us talking. It’s going to be a video but it's not going to show your face and in the magazine we have. That’s it.”
“Is my face going to blur out?”
“It’s just going to be our voices like how you wanted. Don’t worry I made sure they followed your requests. No surprises.”
She nodded her head and leaned forward placing a quick kiss on his lips, “Okay, thank you for everything.”
“Anything for you babe.”
The hallways were quiet and the only sound that was heard was their shoes echoing. She held onto Jungkook’s arm tight as they made their way. They stood in front of the door and he glanced down at her, “Are you ready?”
“Yeah...are you? You're going to get asked so many questions now because of me.”
He shrugged his shoulders and leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead, “I’m okay with that. I can talk about my wife to the whole world.”
“Are you going to tell them that-”
“Yeah, I'm not hiding anymore.”
The door opened and one of the Bighit staff smiled at them, “Are you guys ready?”
“Yes.” They both answered at the same time causing them to look at each other with a smile. They walked into the room and her nerves disappeared when she saw the room semi empty. It made her feel better. They sat down as Jungkook placed his hand on top of hers, rubbing her knuckles gently.
The interviewer smiled at them as he settled in, “Hello, my name is Park Minho and I will be doing this interview. Thank you for trusting me to do this interview.”
Jungkook smiled at him and nodded his head, “Thank you for coming.”
Y/N smiled and looked down at the table, “Thank you for taking the time out to do this.”
Minho smiled at them and took out the equipment. She placed the headphones on her ears as she looked at Jungkook who was giving her an encouraging smile. Minho opened his notebook and rubbed his hands together, “Alright, my name is Park Minho and I’m happy to say I am interviewing Jungkook and Y/N. Y/N, this is your first time coming forward and I’m sure it was scary for you. How is everything settling in?”
She swallowed some spit and moved forward to the microphone, “I-It was nerve-wracking. I’m just a normal person and there’s nothing really special about me.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes and leaned forward, “She’s extraordinary.”
“Jungkook...stop.”
Minho let out a small laugh, “You guys have been together for a couple of years now. How would you explain your love story?”
Jungkook glanced at Y/N with a soft smile, “Fate. Meeting her changed my life and I’m so faithful that I met her. She’s the greatest thing that has happened to me.”
Y/N felt her face get hot and she nodded her head, “I would say fate too. Honestly, it was meant to be because I got his photocard...I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“No one introduced you two? You guys just met by accident?”
“Yeah, I was shocked when I met him. I was extremely shy and I kept to myself. He actually came up to me.”
Jungkook let out a laugh and nodded his head, “I was curious about her. She was so shy that I had to try to talk to her. Even if she pushed me away, I wanted to try at least.”
“You were determined, weren’t you?”
“Of course I was. I heard bells the moment I saw her.”
“Kook, stop.”
Minho turned the page and glanced at Y/N, “In your note that you posted, you mentioned that you've been through a roller coaster. If you're comfortable enough, can you touch on that?”
She nodded her head and looked over at Jungkook who gave her a small smile. She glanced at Minho with a frown, “I saw the rumors on Twitter. It actually made me sick because some of the things were true and it was scary to see that someone knew it that wasn’t in my inner circle. On top of the rumors, I was getting stalked and harassed in my real life. It was too much and...I had to go back to my mom in America. I never felt so...scared.”
“I would be scared if someone knew things about me. I’m sorry you went through that. Is this the main reason why you wanted to come forward?”
“Yes...I had to be one step ahead of them somehow. I also wanted everyone to know that I love Jungkook with all my heart and I’m not hiding anymore...well hiding my face because I’m not ready for my face to be known. Still nervous about people.”
Minho nodded his head and glanced at Jungkook, “I saw that you posted on Weverse about everything. Did you feel good to post about it?”
“It felt good to let everyone know that I won’t stay quiet on this matter. When it comes to Y/N’s safety, I will do anything. It was a big moment for us.”
“I saw that you kept talking about your future. What are your plans for the future?”
The couple glanced at each other and Y/N nodded her head. Jungkook turned towards Minho with a wide grin, “Y/N, is my fiance. We’re planning on getting married.”
“Oh wow!? Congrats! Is this the first time you're announcing it?”
Y/N glanced down at her ring and nodded her head, “Yeah...it’s kind of crazy to do it where the whole world can know it. It felt nice to be so open now.”
The rest of the interview was really easy and it felt second nature for the couple. When everything was done, Y/N was mentally tired. Jungkook smiled down at her, who was leaning her head against his arm. They were on the roof of the building wanting fresh air before heading home. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling okay. It feels weird to have everyone know that I’m your fiance.”
“They need to know. I’m so proud of you.”
She glanced up at him and smiled, “I couldn’t do without your strength.”
“Can I take a picture?”
She raised her eyebrow, “For what?”
“I just wanted to show us off and after that interview, I want to show everyone my love for you.”
She rolled her eyes, “They’re going to be sick at the way you talk.”
“I love you and I don’t care. Just one picture.”
“Fine. After that, can we go home? I miss Bam.”
Jungkook set his phone up and glanced at her with a small glare, “Your fiance is right here but you miss him?”
“I miss our son...I also want cuddles with soba.”
“Whatever my wife wants. Now picture.”
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Tag List:
@agustdpeach @mdavt @aloverga @drissteele @xngelsau
#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts jungkook#bts namjoon#bts seokjin#bts taehyung#bts jimin#bts yoongi#bts x reader#bts hosoek#Bts#bts jungkook x reader#jungkook x reader#bts fanfction#bts fic#bts social media au#his fan girl
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“The body is the law, and I’m only human after all”
Summary: Namjoon loves you a little too much❤️
Genre: Dark fic, Yandere, Dead Dove do not eat?
CW: Yandere Namjoon, he’s wilding in this. Cursing. Descriptions of bodily harm, organs and blood. Shit gets weird
Word Count: 0.5K
A/N: This is pretty different from what I usually write but fuck it we ball. 🫡🫡
Kim Namjoon is meticulous.
He’s a man who needs to search every nook and cranny before he experiences any satisfaction.
Especially, when it comes to you.
Namjoon cannot learn enough about you.
You’ve been together for years, but it still doesn’t feel like he knows enough.
He knows you’ve had a couple of relationships before him. The first was a 2-year relationship that was ended by you because your ex became emotionally unavailable. The second was a year-and-a-half-long relationship that was ended by your ex because they had “found someone else”. What an absolute cunt.
He knows you have a mole on the nape of your neck that you refuse to get rid of because “It’s a good ice breaker”. You have exactly 5 scars littered around your body. A small one on your right forearm, a thin one on your left cheek, a noticeable one on your right knuckles, an incredibly faded one on your left knee, and a more recent one on the back of your right ankle.
The first three come from childhood accidents. The other two happened because, just like him, you’re clumsy.
Speaking of your childhood, Namjoon hates your parents and siblings.
The fact that there are people who have known you more than him categorically? Unacceptable.
He bubbles in rage knowing that they saw you through each phase of your life. That they saw your first steps, your first words. They saw you through your embarrassing phases and comforted you when you were upset about something you laugh about now.
Nothing eats him up more than second-hand information.
Nonetheless, he begrudgingly accepts it.
He’ll make do with your stretch marks, scars, and stories that you tell him about yourself. Still, he can’t help but imagine knowing you even deeper when he lays on your steady chest in the dark of your shared home.
Your usual 78 bpm slows down to 65 bpm. He can imagine your red blood cells flowing to your aterums and thoracic cavity through your tubes. He can somewhat feel the shape of your ribs and picture your lungs behind them. He still needs more.
He needs to vivisect you. To cut you down from your throat to your genitals. He needs to open your ribs and feel your heart thump in his bare hands. To feel your intestines, so that even if he went blind, he’d still retain the shape.
He wants to open your brain. To caress the folds of it and ask you when and where each one developed. To touch your vocal cords and feel the muscles reverberate as you guide him through your organs.
He wants to rest his head on your exposed heart, to feel the blood pool and clot onto his face. He wants the metallic smell of your blood to suffocate his senses. He needs to feel you so deeply that it stains him.
A boy can dream, can’t he?
#idol x reader#kpop fanfic#bts namjoon#namjoon#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#namjoon x y/n#yandere#yandere idol#yandere bts#yandere namjoon#bts drabble#bts imagines#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts#dark fic#kpop idol#kim namjoon#bts rm#rm bts#rm#rm x reader#rm x you#yandere kpop#yandere male
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million dollar darling | jeon jungkook
summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.
➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]
[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]
➣19.7k words
warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana
“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”
The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.
The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.
“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”
“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”
“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.
“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”
“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”
“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”
“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”
“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.
Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”
“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.
“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”
This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”
His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”
Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”
The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?
“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”
“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.
“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”
They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”
“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”
When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.
It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.
‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’
The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.
Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.
You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.
“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”
“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.
“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.
“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.
“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”
“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.
“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.
“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.
“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”
He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”
“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“
“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.
“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”
His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”
With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.
Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.
First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.
The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.
Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.
Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.
Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.
Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.
Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.
They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.
It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.
There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.
You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.
Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.
One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.
No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.
Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?
Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?
It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.
He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.
There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.
“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.
“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”
“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.
As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.
A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”
With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”
He didn’t have a thing for you.
Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.
There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…
Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.
You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.
“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.
“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”
“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”
“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”
“Am I saying anything?” You asked.
They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”
You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”
You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.
Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.
Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.
You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.
For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.
After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.
“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”
With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.
“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”
He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”
“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.
“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”
“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”
“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”
“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.
“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.
“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”
Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.
Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?
He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.
Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.
“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.
In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.
First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.
Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.
Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.
“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.
“What?”
“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”
“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.
“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”
“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”
“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.
“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”
“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”
“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.
“Y/n.”
You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”
“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.
“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?
“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”
“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”
A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”
An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”
His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.
“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.
“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.
“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”
“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.
“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”
His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”
“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.
“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.
“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”
Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.
With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.
When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.
The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.
“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.
“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”
“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.
“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”
“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”
“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.
“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”
“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.
“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.
“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”
“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”
Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.
“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.
You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.
He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”
“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.
Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…
The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.
He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.
You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.
Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.
So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.
Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”
All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.
Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”
That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.
He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.
“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.
You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.
“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”
A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”
Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”
“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”
“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.
You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”
He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.
You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”
“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.
You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”
“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”
“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”
Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.
He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.
With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.
“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”
“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”
“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”
You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”
A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”
He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”
“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”
A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.
When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?
“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”
To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.
You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.
Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.
Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.
“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”
“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”
Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.
He should go.
He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.
If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.
“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”
“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”
“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”
You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”
An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.
Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.
“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.
“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.
It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.
Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.
Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.
“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.
“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”
You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “
Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.
“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”
“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.
Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.
“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.
“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.
His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”
“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.
He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.
He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”
He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.
Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.
“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”
“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”
“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”
You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.
“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”
He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.
With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”
“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.
A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.
“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”
With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”
“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”
“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”
“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”
He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.
“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”
“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”
“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.
Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”
“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.
“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.
“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”
“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.
Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”
“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”
Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.
And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.
“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”
“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”
“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”
“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“
“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”
“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.
His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”
The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.
Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.
“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.
“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.
“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.
You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”
“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”
When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.
There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.
He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.
The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.
That’s what he thinks is the problem.
His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.
The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.
As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.
He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.
“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”
Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.
“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.
“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”
His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.
He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.
“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”
JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”
“I slept with her—“
A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”
Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”
“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”
“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”
“I have not.”
“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”
“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn’t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”
“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”
“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”
“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”
Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.
“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”
“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.
You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.
“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”
“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.
He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…
This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.
“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.
“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”
Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.
At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’
When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”
Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.
“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.
“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.
“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”
As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”
A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”
He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”
“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?
“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.
xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates
Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.
The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.
“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”
“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.
Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.
“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”
“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.
“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”
Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”
It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”
“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.
Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”
The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”
“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”
“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.
It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.
In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.
Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.
It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.
In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.
You resented each other.
You had sex.
Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?
When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.
“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”
Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”
Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”
“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.
The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.
Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.
“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.
“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”
Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?
“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”
“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”
“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”
You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”
Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”
Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.
To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.
“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.
“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.
Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.
He did not like you.
Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.
He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.
“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.
When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.
An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”
Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.
It’s not for you.
It’s not for yo—
His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”
You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”
A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”
It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.
You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.
Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.
You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.
“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make
“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.
You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.
Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.
His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.
“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.
He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.
The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.
Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.
He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.
“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.
“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”
“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”
“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.
Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.
“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”
Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”
He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.
Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”
Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”
Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.
“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.
“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”
“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“
Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”
“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”
“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”
“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”
You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”
Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”
“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”
“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”
“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”
“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”
“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”
“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.
“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.
“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.
“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”
“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”
“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”
Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”
His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.
“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”
“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”
“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”
Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”
“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”
You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”
“I know.”
Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.
He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.
He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.
He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.
Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.
“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”
Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.
“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.
“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.
“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”
Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”
“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.
“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.
“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”
Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.
“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”
“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”
“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”
“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”
By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.
You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.
And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.
“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.
Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”
A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”
There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.
“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”
She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”
You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.
“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”
“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”
“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”
“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.
“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”
Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”
He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”
You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”
::.
a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere
thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3
permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]
#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenarios#jungkook bts#bts jungkook#jungkook#jungkook one shot#jungkook oneshot#jungkook fiction#jungkook drabble#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jeon jungguk#jeongguk#bts writing#bts imagines#bts one shot#bts fic#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts#bts jk#million dollar darling
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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.”
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso.
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts x reader#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook imagines#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#bts angst#bts smut#bts fluff#bts fic#bts fanfic
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HOME pt.2
Jin x Reader
Summary: You and Jin discover that you are expecting your first child, but are faced with challenges that neither of you could imagine.
Warnings: topics related to pregnancy that could be considered controversial.
The last thing Jin said kept replaying in my mind over and over again. He didn’t want to lose me I knew that for a fact, but I also knew I was stubborn. My mind was made up about what to do. I pressed my hands against my stomach and caressed it trying to calm my nerves with the rhythm of my hand movement. I wanted to know how our baby would look like, what their personalities would be like, how Jin would be as a dad. All these thoughts ran through my mind as if it was about to be taken away.
I waited for Jin to come back into the room to talk more or perhaps help him see my side better. But one a.m became three a.m and I knew he wasn’t coming back for the night. I picked up my phone and saw that I had a missed text from Jin. I was scared to see what he might have sent me. If it was a plea to choose us or the baby. Maybe it was an explanation on why he was not here. I held my breath as I opened the message.
JIN:
I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come back to check on you. I want you to be okay. I’ll see you in the morning or sooner. I love you.
In perfect timing my door cracked and appeared Jin. I dropped my phone to the other side of the bed hearing its thud from the emptiness. It was nearly four in the morning and he was standing here in his pajamas to be with me. He gently closed the door and glanced over at my suitcase in the corner. I got up from the bed and wrapped my arms around his neck. He hugged me tightly. There was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t.
“I want you to be okay Y/N. I don’t want to lose you.” I could sense he wanted to go on, he had words circling around in his mind. I don’t blame him for being hesitant or scared. I was scared. This was more than a baby, it was also my life on the line.
“You won’t lose me Jin. I’m going to be okay.” I grabbed his hand and placed it on my stomach. “We are going to be okay.” I said nearly pleading with him to see the bright side of our situation. I wanted him to know I didn’t plan on leaving him through death. Although my decision was set in stone, I wanted him by my side.
He paced around and anxiously ran his hand through his hair, which I was noticing was starting to happen more frequently when he was stressed. He pressed his lips tightly together unsure of how to react next. Jin tilted his head up at the ceiling clearing his throat in the process. I knew nothing I could say would convince him I was making the right decision and I didn’t want to see him cry again. It was too painful knowing I was causing him to cry.
“We have to come to a decision.” Jin said. I looked at him disappointedly.
“I already made my decision Jin.” I took a pause trying to collect my thoughts and redirect the conversation. “Maybe it’s best if I leave. A lot has happened these past two days and I think it’s best if I go.” Jin was surprised. Honestly, I felt this was the best choice I could make for us. It would give him space and myself some as well. Maybe this way we could think on things with a clear mind.
“If you aren’t here I can’t help you if something happens. After all the doctor said you were high risk. I can’t have something happen and I’m not there.”
“I know but I’ll manage.” I grabbed my suitcase that sat in the corner, packed and ready to go. Originally the plan was to be like a thief in the night and wait for Jin to come back home after the shoot. I knew it was selfish. I knew it could cause more problems, but what else was I to do. I was caught between the man I love and the baby we made.
“If you go, you text me if anything happens.” I nodded my head agreeing to his request. He flashed a soft smile. “I love you Y/N.” I kissed Jin and managed to get one of the PAs to take me back home.
Two weeks had passed. Jin was finally coming back and my bump had grown nearly everyday. I would stare in the mirror for hours looking at it, amazed that something was growing inside of me. I was so excited to show Jin in person how I looked now.
I could hear Jin’s bags drop in the living room, his feet began hitting the wood as he ran into our bedroom. He grabbed my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. He flashed his bright smile staring lovingly into my eyes. Being with him made me feel at home. I was safe and nothing bad could happen.
We spent hours catching up. I told him all about the baby. How my body was changing constantly. He kept looking at my stomach as I spoke, watching it move around subtly with every word. He smiled more. We decided to order dinner and play some video games as a way to unwind. No serious talks, us enjoying each others company.
I got up from the couch when I suddenly fell to the floor. A sharp pain ran across my stomach. I was only 12 weeks with our baby the size of a lime. I yelped out in pain. Jin rushed to my side. I could tell his worst fear coming true by the look on his face. The pain stopped. I gathered myself and pretended like it wasn’t that serious. In all honesty, I was terrified about what just happened.
Jin helped me up from the floor. He walked me over to the kitchen table so I could take a seat. He kneeled down in front of me rubbing my thigh as if it was a reflex. I could still see the concern written all over his face. I rubbed my hand against his cheek.
“Jin I’m okay, don’t worry.” I didn’t even believe myself. I felt like this was the first warning sign of what was to come. Maybe Jin sensed it too. I felt like I could read his mind and he had the same fear that I did. We would have to face a major challenge by starting a family, one that either of us were confident in the outcome.
Jin grabbed my hand squeezing it lightly. “Let’s get married before the baby comes.”
“Okay.” I whispered. We sat in silence. An exciting moment turned into complete silence.
#bts fanfic#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts reader#bts x reader#bts#jin x reader#jin imagine#bts jin#jin#bts soekjin#soekjin x reader#kim soekjin
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— home.
» pairing: jungkook x reader
» genre: fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort, nsfw
» synopsis: “show me your thorns, and I'll show you hands ready to bleed.”
» warnings: allusions to depression, brief mentions of self harm (nothing graphic!), a little bit of angst, cuddling, reassurance, jungkook is a big green flag, talks of therapy and healing, confessions, lots of kisses, he's down bad and so in love :( (they both are), pet names, soft!dom jk, slight size kink, missionary bc he needs to look at her and kiss her 😩, praise, dirty talk, choking, creampie, aftercare
His hand curled around the nape of your neck the moment your lips touched. Warmth trickled down your spine, and he titled his head; tongue prodding at your soft lips, like he wanted you down to the marrow. Like he wanted to dip into your soul, kiss after kiss, until he was completely submerged; until he's explored every nook and crevice, felt every bump and crack.
He pulled away from the heat of your mouth slowly, reluctantly, eyes half lidded and dark. Lungs expanding to take in more air, voice coming out hoarse.
"You weren't answering your phone..."
"I know," you whispered, "I'm sorry."
Jungkook shook his head.
"No need to be sorry, baby," he lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on the soft skin there. "I was just worried."
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. You sank into his embrace so easily; like you just came home. In a way, you have. He hasn't seen you in over a week...
It may not have seemed like much, but your absence was tangible. Suffocating. Especially when he didn't know if something was wrong.
"I'm glad you're here," he murmured.
You turned your head to peck his shoulder, fingers entwining, and then you were walking towards his bedroom as though it was second nature. The change in your demeanor had the corners of Jungkook's eyes crinkling from smiling. You practically skipped over to his bed, hopping onto the large mattress.
"Can I get a shirt, please?"
He didn't think you comprehended how fucking cute you were. He turned to open his closet and began rummaging through it.
"At this point, I'm pretty sure I'd kill someone if you asked me," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, baby."
Flushing, he ignored the curious tilt of your head and threw you his favorite t-shirt.
God, how could someone be so fucking cute?
You were always excited to nap in his bed, share food and wear his clothes. The fact that it brought you comfort made his already lovesick heart swell up and ache. Something so simple, but so domestic — it fucked with his head. He wanted this every day, in every life. You were his comfort, too. Why couldn't you see it?
He leaned against his closet, arms crossed, watching you slip out of your clothes, the heap landing on the floor. It was art. You were so beautiful; inside and out. He couldn't help the way his stomach stirred and heart fluttered, yet instead of acting on his urges, he just walked over to you and bent down to pick up your clothes.
While you got into his shirt, he folded them neatly and placed them on his gaming chair.
"I missed this bed so much," you sighed.
Jungkook glanced over at you, taking a moment to drink in the image of you lying there, the black cotton of his shirt slightly too wide and too long for your body; but fuck, it looked perfect to him. He bit his lip, making his way to climb onto the mattress beside you.
"What about me?" He asked, delighted by how you opened up your arms, instinctively scooting closer to him.
"Hm, what about you?"
Jungkook pouted, eyebrows furrowing. His arms wrapped around your waist.
"Hey."
You giggled, peppering his face with kisses, and he wished he could live in this moment forever, stop all the clocks, kill time. To hell with what that would do to the universe.
"I missed you, too."
Just like that, he melted. Somehow, it hurt so bad; he had you right there, and yet he didn't. Disappearing and reappearing. Out of reach, like a mirage.
He lifted your hand to his lips again, momentarily distracted by how small it was compared to his.
"So tiny."
Amused at the scoff you let out, he turned it to kiss your palm, then paused abruptly.
A raw shade of red caught his attention.
Narrowing his eyes, he examined the wounds around multiple fingers — or at least tried to, before you caught on and pulled your hand away like you got burned.
His heart dropped.
It's been a while. Why were you doing this to yourself again?
Fuck. He felt like a failure of a man.
He swallowed thickly, then pulled you in closer, as if treading on thin ice. Terrified of making a mistake and feeling it crack under his weight. Once he was under, once it all fell apart, he didn't know if you'd let him in again.
"Baby..." he whispered into your hair.
"I'm so tired, Jungkook," mellow, you answered the question he didn't get to ask. "I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"Talk to me," he pleaded. "I can't help you if you shut me down."
You sniffed quietly. There was a loud crack. Not in the ice, but in his chest.
"You can't help me either way."
Jungkook tried to lift his head to look at you, but you gripped his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in your hand.
"Baby—"
"Not everyone deserves help," you insisted, a wet sigh following. "What's wrong with me? Why can't I help myself? E-everyone else seems to be doing just fine, a-and I'm just rotting away, filled with these ugly thoughts and feelings, I can't do anything right."
Jungkook hugged you tighter, like he hoped he could mould you together, give you as much of him as you needed to feel whole again. He'd let you rip him to pieces to fill the void.
"Stop saying that," he breathed, his eyes burning, "fuck, stop saying that."
He stroked your back as you cried into his chest, softly, feeling helpless and furious at the same time.
"When you're always in the dark," he whispered, "you learn to make friends with monsters to survive. It's all you know, so it's what feels most comfortable."
He heard you inhale, felt your head lift with hesitation. Eyes swollen, glossy, lower lip still trembling.
Jungkook cupped your face, wiping at the wet streaks.
"When you're always in the dark, sometimes... it feels like it's all you deserve. But it's not your fault. You're not a bad person," he said softly, his thumb rubbing your lower lip. "Sometimes, it's just the monsters you know talking."
You blinked, small and vulnerable, like a child who just woke up from a nightmare.
"I... I don't know..."
Jungkook squeezed your waist, so close his nose almost touched yours.
"But I know," he promised. "I know."
He stared into your eyes, watched them well up with more tears. He wished he could kiss them all away.
"Let me be there for you—"
You kissed him, and once again, it hurt. Because he wanted you, he wanted you so bad, but not like this — why didn't you want him, too?
Outside of the bedroom, when you weren't tangled in sheets, it seemed like you had no interest in letting your walls down. He's spent so much time trying to climb them, only to end up with broken bones, back down on the ground again.
He couldn't do this anymore.
He pulled away from your lips, denying you the oblivion you craved. He wanted to let you use him, he'd do it every day if it meant he could see you again. But he was afraid that if he didn't speak up now, he'd never find the courage to do it.
"I want to be with you," he breathed out. "Why won't you let me love you?"
There was an instant change in your expression that made his stomach lurch.
"I— I..."
A pause, filled with uncertainty.
Jungkook searched your eyes. The windows to the soul, they said. Broken, and the interior was dark. Nothing good lurked in there.
"I love you," he repeated.
His heart pounded in his chest. He stared right into this endless darkness, crawling with insecurities and fear. As though he was hoping the warm whisper would chase away the frigid, haunted air breaking through, make all the other voices come to a halt.
He was no longer a boy, but a man, and he feared no monsters. He wanted to flood the space with light.
"Move in with me," his palm settled on your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. "I'll help with your classes and therapy. I'll take care of you. You can lean on me until you're strong enough to stand on your own. And even then, when you do — I still wanna be there. I wanna make you happy... Every day."
There it was. His heart, right in the palm of your hand, like an offering. Bleeding through your fingers. Willing to be crushed, if it meant at least he tried.
But you cradled it instead.
Fresh tears, sticking to your eyelashes, and then a rush of warmth in the dark. Your lips pressed into his, tender, and he shut his eyes, tasting a mixture of salt and your sweetness —
"I love you," a shaky exhale, right into his mouth.
It sank into him like sunlight, pulsing, nourishing and bright. And he swallowed it up with a kiss, his teeth clashing with yours.
He shifted to hover above you, finding rest in between your legs, goosebumps erupting when he felt your hand slip under his hoodie, inching it up.
A giggle slipped past his lips, and he disconnected himself from you only to take it off, throwing it aside carelessly before he was kissing you again.
He felt you smile. You went straight to his head like wine. Your taste, your scent — your touch, exploring the muscles of his back, his shoulders.
He was already hard, aching to get lost in you; dizzy on want and love.
Hands groping over clothes, wherever they could reach, hot lips trailing down your neck. He wanted to do so many things to you; kiss every inch of your skin, make you come on his tongue.
But you had the whole night — a whole eternity, really. And the way you squirmed beneath him, arching your back, legs parting, hips raising to feel him, urgent and breathy, wiped his mind clean off anything but the need to be inside you.
Jungkook groaned, his cock twitching, leaking precum into the cotton of his boxers. He remained still, however, letting your hand wander in between your bodies.
His eyes were glued to the way it traveled down his tensing abdomen, pausing to lower his sweats; then dipping inside.
He tried to stay quiet, though his chest was heaving, the sight and the feeling of your hand wrapping around his girth making it twitch again.
He watched you pull your panties aside, wet and ruined, revealing your pretty, glistening folds and the small entrance below.
So fucking small.
It looked almost obscene compared to his cock, long and thick and pulsating in your hand. But you fit him perfectly, like you were made just for him.
The moment you guided him forward, and the wet tip touched the heat of your cunt, he lifted his eyes to yours.
He felt so fucked out, but he was gentle as he pushed inside. The tight, wet muscle welcomed him eagerly, inch by inch, until his hips touched yours and he couldn't breathe.
For a moment, time stood still.
His head fell into the crook of your neck, inked hand squeezing your thigh.
"I missed you so much."
He sounded broken, but he's never felt so whole before.
"I missed you too..."
You clenched around him, prompting his hips to move off their own accord, coaxing the most beautiful sounds out of your body. The wetness, the smack of his skin against yours; the soft whines that fueled the heat boiling deep in his gut.
"Mmm," he moaned, raspy, "doing so well, baby."
He tried to stretch you out slowly, preoccupy himself with biting and sucking at your neck; anything not to focus on how you clenched around him.
But he was doomed, and he understood that the second you moved your hips, fucking him back.
"Oh shit," he gasped, "baby..."
He stifled another moan into your cheek, picking up his pace, so deep inside you he wondered if you could feel him in your tummy. The thought alone made his cock throb, every vein and ridge.
Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your throat, the pressure soft, but definitely there. In return, you grasped his shoulders, nails digging in, and Jungkook knew he wasn't going to last long.
"Good?" He breathed, slamming into you a little faster, stuck on your shining eyes and eager nods. "Yeah?"
The mattress began to protest under the force of his thrusts, but the sound was drowned out by everything else. Jungkook felt your cunt tightening, so warm and so fucking sloppy, his own little personal heaven.
"Almost there? Hm? Gonna make a mess for me?"
Clench.
He groaned, his tummy twisting, the moans spilling past your lips making his head spin.
You merely nodded again, as though you couldn't speak. It made the corner of his lips quirk upwards.
"Yeah?" He tightened his hold on your neck, staking his claim with a coo. "My girl's gonna make a mess on my cock? Pretty angel's gonna cream all over it?"
Your breath hitched, thighs beginning to quiver around him.
"Y-yeah," you uttered, breathless, "yours—"
Jungkook's tongue slid into your mouth, his rutting becoming desperate. He wanted to mark you and brand you and oh god — he was about to see stars.
"Yeah, fuck— mine, my good girl," he stuttered out, "oh, baby, mhmm, I'm gonna come—"
His hips bucked as your pussy spasmed around him, sucking his cock in deeper, restricting his movements. Still, he fucked you through your orgasm, letting himself go with a loud groan. A burst of stars, the tension snapping; and he spilled inside you, white ropes of hot cum that filled you up to the brim.
He slumped against you after a drawn out moment, his body thrumming with bliss. Careful not to crush you, however, he rolled over to the side, his arms automatically enveloping your frame.
With his nose in your neck, he waited for his breathing to even out, lazily rubbing your hands.
"So good," he mumbled, "fuck... Are you okay, baby?"
You hummed, snuggling into him.
"More than okay."
Jungkook smiled, opening his eyes and pressing a kiss into your cheek.
"I'll wash you up in a sec."
"In a bit... Stay with me."
"I'm staying with you forever. Good luck getting rid of me now."
Your laughter sent a pang through his chest. He wanted to keep hearing it.
He brought your hand up to his lips, gently kissed each wounded finger, muttering his I love yous and praises until you both drifted off. Sated and warm under the sheets, tangled up in each other; with a single promise echoing through his head.
Never again would he let you hurt like this.
And whatever was happening outside of these four walls hardly mattered.
This was all that mattered.
This was home.
#hi! 👋#I literally made this blog just to get this fic out of my system lmao 💕#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook smut#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts reactions#bts fluff
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˙✧˖ ?! — KEEPING YOU IN BED (CAUSE I'M DOWN BED). - MDNI !!!
— ‧₊˚ — 🍵 : "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"??"
summary. going to work on your boyfriends single day-off already sounds like a death sentence, things only become worse when he makes it especially hard to leave the bed.
notes. SLEEPY HORNY KOOK AASHHSSHSH my roman empire... 😭 SORRY FOR THE TITLE I HAD A LIL GIGGLE OKAY ???
warnings/includes: (NSFW) dom! jungkook x f! sub! reader, starts sleepy + wholesome, turns a lil unhinged..., pounding, overstimulation, he's just a bit mean in second half (but we love it)
you rub your eyes, the morning sunlight blinding you through the sheer curtains - soft and rhythmic breathing audible beside you when you look over you find your boyfriend's chest rising and falling slowly, one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, in pure peace still somewhere in the deep roams of sleep.
after all it was his day off, a rare sanctuary in the hectic schedule of hislife, and yet, there you were, inching away from the warmth of his embrace, preparing to face the day ahead.
but as you attempted to free yourself from the tangle of sheets and limbs, a sleepy murmur escaped him, a half-formed quiet plea, "just few more minutes" His arm instinctively tightened around your waist, drawing you back into his tight hug, nuzzling his face to your middle body. quick little peeks placed all over tummy, almost like rubbing his face over you, his hands lazily tracing circles over your sides, "just a little longer"
he shifts his position, now completly lying over you, trapping and preventing you from leaving, wrapping his arms around your neck, "love you so much" whispered into your nape.
you giggled in response, your hands hugging his back, travelling under his shirt, rubbing over the skin gently, "you're trying everything to lure me in longer huh"
kook smiled sleeply against your skin, his head moved to your shoulder so he could look at your face better, lips roaming over your collarbone, settling on them for a split second, "is it working?"
"don't know, might have to try a bit harder" you answered in a joking tone, your fingers tracing light patterns on his back.
he squints his eyes, a faint smile on his face, raising his eyebrows, "oh really?" fake innocence added into his tone.
you were stupid.
in fact very much so.
out of experience you should've known that jungkook has an unbelievable amount of sheer competitivness inside him and if you unleash that - you're pretty much fucked.
you should've recognized that familar grin, you should've recognized those wandering hands of his that would do anything just to prove you wrong, just to remind you that nobody doubts him without well- consequences!
those consequences may include: him in the beginning softly manhandling you (in his own way y'know) which turns into him throwing away any sense of tiredness or gentleness he had before, sentences like "feel me fuckin pounding, listen to it" or "so much fuckin cum" rolling over his tongue as he overstimulates you over and over again.
damn well keeping that clock on the night stand at the corner of his eyes, just to rub it into your face, "how easy it was to get you to do this" or "wonder where your colleges think you are, they'd never guess i'm balls deep into you huh"
and oh he's looking for answers from you too, "what are you gonna tell your boss now?" half mumbeled half groaned as he slams into you once more chasing that 3rd orgasm, obviously knowing you're way to brainfucked to understand think about even responding.
"should've kept your fucking mouth shut, don't you think?" and all you can do in response is whimper and moan like a little bitch.
weirdly enough that's what satisfies him - the slutty expression on your face, the way your mouth stays slightly parted, the way your pussy tightens around him, the way your tits just fit so easily in his hands like they were made for him (which he'll openly say 2!), the way you sound, the way your body looks when he fucks you senseless - everything about you like this is so endearing to him and worth repeating over and over again.
he can be real sweet after, acting like it never even happened, bringing you breakfast to bed while you were lying bare trying to regain your brain acess again, innocently saying smth along the lines of: "i called you in sick for today" then adding, "it's not like it's worth going anyway might just spend the day with me" okay whatever you say kook :3
#kpop smut#bts ff#bts fanfic#bts#bts jungkook#bts fic#bts imagines#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#jungkook headcanons#jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook imagine#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook x reader#bts ffs#bts x you#bts au#bts x reader
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a word from our sponsors | knj
you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️
pairing: namjoon x f. reader
genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff
rating: explicit. minors do not interact.
warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another.
smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms.
wordcount: 17.5k
credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny.
author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)
You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.
You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.
None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.
You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.
Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.
Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.
Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.
“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right??
Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago
Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.
It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264)
↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791)
↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3)
↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)
“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”
You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.
He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”
“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.
“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.
You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”
“Hello?”
“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”
“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”
You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”
“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”
“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”
Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”
To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.
His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.
You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.
Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.
“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.
Ah, Jungkook.
You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.
“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.
Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.
That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.
So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.
Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”
Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”
“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.
You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.
Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.
So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.
“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.
You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”
“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”
“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”
“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”
“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”
“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”
“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”
“That’s cute.”
“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”
“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”
“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”
“Sick name.”
“Number three, Toddler.”
“Toddler?”
“Number two, Flat.”
“Just Flat? Understandable.”
“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”
“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”
“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.
“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”
You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”
Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.
“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”
“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”
“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”
“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”
“And second of all?”
“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”
He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”
“Subbed or dubbed, though?”
“Are you trying to get me canceled?”
“Absolutely.”
“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”
“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”
“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”
“Like what?”
“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”
Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.
But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.
“—one should we start with?”
“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.
And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”
“Who?”
“What?”
“Who is Taryn Manning?”
Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”
“The Britney Spears movie?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”
Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”
“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”
“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”
“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”
“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”
“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”
“No it’s not.”
“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”
“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”
You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”
“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”
“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”
“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”
“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”
“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”
“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”
“What’s that?”
“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”
“How do I find that out?”
“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”
Namjoon rattles off a time.
You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”
“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”
You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”
“Haaa, that’s not—”
“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”
“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”
“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”
“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”
You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”
“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”
“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”
To your left, Jungkook scoffs.
“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”
“No,” you interject.
“Can I finish?”
“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”
Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”
“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”
“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.
“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”
“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”
Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”
And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”
“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”
You groan. “Oh my god.”
Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin
I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649)
↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204)
↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)
You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.
Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.
It’s just—
It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.
Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.
“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.
And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”
“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”
There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”
“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”
“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”
“You going out of town again?”
“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”
“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”
This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”
Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”
“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”
“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”
“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”
“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”
“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.
So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”
There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”
Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—
Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat
Yoongi: it’s a tie for me
You: Okay well pick one 🙄
Yoongi: yijeong says get both
You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills?
Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js
You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore?
Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off
Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now
Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group
Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat
Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off”
You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked
Yoongi: fuck you
You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:
(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.
Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.
“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”
Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”
“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”
And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”
“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.
“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”
“This is how I sit!”
“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”
“What?”
“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”
Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”
Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”
“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”
“Uh-huh. Anyway—”
You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”
“Oh! Yeah, of course—”
“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”
Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)
It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.
But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:
“What is this?”
Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”
“I can see that, but… why?”
This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”
“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.
But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.
“Oh my god?”
You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”
“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”
“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”
“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”
Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”
“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”
As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”
Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”
Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”
About us.
Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.
“I—what?”
“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.
Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”
“Can you not—”
“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”
Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.
And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”
Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.
As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.
Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.
The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.
The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.
“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”
And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?
There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.
It’s just a story.
Fiction.
Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.
Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.
Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.
Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.
What will they know of Namjoon, though?
Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?
And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.
Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?
No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.
Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.
Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.
“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.
It’s a completely normal question.
It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.
Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.
And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.
You swallow. Hard.
“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.
It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.
He moves it an inch to the left.
—
Things are tense, to say the least.
Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.
“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”
“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”
Showtime.
You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.
Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.
Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.
“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”
Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.
“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”
You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”
An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”
“Are you sure? We can—”
“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”
“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”
You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?
But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.
Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”
You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”
“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”
“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”
Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”
You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”
“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”
“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”
It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”
It sounds like a challenge.
Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.
And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.
“Gummy bear?”
Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”
“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”
He continues:
And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.
His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”
“Fuck off.”
Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual.
Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.
You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.
Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”
It works. “No,” he scowls.
“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.
“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”
“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”
There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.
Then he reads—
And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own.
It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway).
When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and…
“Kissing,” she says finally.
“What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question…
“Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.
—and everything goes right out the fucking window.
Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”
“That is why we’re here.”
“Last chance to back out.”
“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”
He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.
Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”
“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”
“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.
You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.
Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.
“See? Not as easy as it looks.”
“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”
“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”
Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder.
“Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.”
He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines.
“Please what?”
“Please let me fuck you,” he begs.
She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could.
“Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”
Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”
“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.
You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.
But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.
“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words.
“Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock.
“Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?”
Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.
“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.
“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.”
Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice.
So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.
This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.
This is very, very bad.
Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.
“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”
“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”
Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.
So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.
Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.
It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that.
“Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt.
“Yeah—want you, Joon.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say those words.”
“I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her.
Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does.
She hates that he’s right.
Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides.
It’s perfect.
Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy.
“Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…”
At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster.
“Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.”
One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing.
When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.
You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.
“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.
“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”
Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”
“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”
HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE????????
Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago
NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705)
I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423)
↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197)
↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5)
↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63)
Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314)
↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329)
↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2)
↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15)
↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)
You do not get through recording unscathed.
You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.
Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.
It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.
The two of you had sex.
Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.
In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.
(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)
Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.
Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.
“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”
There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.
You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.
That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.
You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.
The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.
Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.
You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.
So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.
Except it isn’t.
Because Namjoon looks… different.
Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.
Today, he wears none of those things.
No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.
According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.
You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.
Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.
So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.
It doesn’t get any better.
Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.
Thirty-five minutes back home.
Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.
But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.
Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.
You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.
That’ll cure you.
You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.
Needless to say, nothing cures you.
But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.
Except—you’re not.
Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.
“Where’s Namjoon?”
Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”
You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”
You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.
So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.
You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.
“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”
You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.
You are fucked beyond belief.
Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”
Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?
But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.
“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”
“I forgot them.”
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”
Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”
Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”
This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.
There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.
“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”
Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”
“Joon—”
“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”
“Joon, that’s not—”
“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”
“That’s not the name of our podcast.”
“Huh?”
“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”
“Is it? Since when?”
“Since forever?”
He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”
A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”
Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.
Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.
He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”
“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”
“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”
“Not with you, preferably.”
“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”
“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.
No fucking way.
“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”
“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”
He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”
“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”
“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”
“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”
Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”
“How weird?”
“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”
He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”
God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”
“About you and Namjoon?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my god—”
“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”
“Oh my god—”
“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”
“Oh my god?”
“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”
“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”
Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”
“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”
“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”
“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”
Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”
Min Yoongi is a bastard.
Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.
You want to fuck Namjoon.
Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.
You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.
And then someone knocks on your door.
You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.
Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.
“Uh, hi.”
You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.
“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”
Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—
You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”
If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.
“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”
The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.
“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”
“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”
“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”
“Are you sure?”
Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.
“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”
“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”
That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.
So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.
The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.
The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.
And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.
Because you’re the problem.
It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”
“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.
Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”
“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”
He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”
“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”
He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”
Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.
And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”
Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.
It’s no wonder you mishear him.
Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”
Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”
Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”
“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”
“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”
“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”
There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”
You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.
All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.
And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.
No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.
So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.
But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.
“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.
Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”
Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.
Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.
The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.
“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.
Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.
“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”
He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”
There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.
Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.
But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.
In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.
You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.
“Um—”
“Holy shit.”
“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”
He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.
“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”
He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.
He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”
There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.
You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”
He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”
Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.
There’s a beat of silence, and then—
Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”
You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”
You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.
It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.
He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.
But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.
It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.
Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.
Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.
He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”
“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”
“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”
You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.
Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.
Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.
“Was that okay?”
You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”
“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.
You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”
Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.
On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.
When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.
And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.
“What the fuck are you wearing—”
Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.
It’s seamless.
No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.
“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.
So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”
“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”
“Did you? How’d it go?”
“Perfect.”
It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”
who the FUCK is namjoon dating
Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago
This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195)
↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302)
↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927)
↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788)
↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325)
↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4)
↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡
#namjoon x reader#namjoon smut#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts x reader#namjoon fanfic#namjoon imagine#namjoon scenarios#namjoon x you#namjoon x y/n#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jewel writes
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