[ masterlist of series the love prognosis by awrkive ]
legend
❀ ; fluff ♡ ; smut ✧ ; angst
main masterlist
↳ warnings are stated in the link of each chapter itself as well as on this navi page — all of my works are 18+ so minors, DNI !!
summary for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.
♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
♡ Genre: angst, fluff, smut, this is a slow burn!
♡ Spotify |◁ Playlist (feel free to recommend songs!) ▷| Apple Music
♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! Please read with caution ⚠️!
♡ Key: ❁ fluff | ❅ angst | ❥ smut
⚠️ This series contains depictions of possibly triggering topics such as dealing with symptoms of depression. Any chapters that could be especially triggering, will be marked with the emoji at the beginning!
Before you start…
For the Birds Aesthetics
The Contract (Important!)
Prologue | ❅, ❥
Part 1 | ❅, ❥
Part 2 | ❅
Part 3 | ❅, ❥
Part 4 | ❅, ❥
Part 5 | ❅, ❥
Part 6 | ❅, ❥
Part 7– Coming September 30th
Part 8– Coming October 15th
Part 9– Coming October 30th
Part 10– Coming November 15th
Part 11– Coming November 30th
Part 12– Coming January 15th
Part 13– Coming January 30th
More Coming Soon After a Small Intermission!
*Note these dates may be subject to change— currently the prologue through part 13 has been completed. However depending on holidays, other fic postings, or life events that might come in the way, the dates may vary slightly. In general though 'For the Birds' will be posted bimonthly, once in the middle of the month and a second time at the end of the month. For specifics, I will post announcements letting you guys know about any change and also will edit the date on the masterlist!
Asks related to For the Birds
For other works and updates regarding the series please follow and refer to my masterlist!
this came to my dash and i remember reading this awhile ago and loving it 😮💨 was pretty sure i reblogged it before but i apparently didnt phew... i just finished my work out so my brain is a little mush and this is not a long review but !!! i loveeee this 🥲 its so painful and so angsty (so far..????) but im always so amazed by writers who are good at writing multidimensional characters and this story has IT especially with jungkook who is obviously being so carefully written .. I LOVE. im so excited and anxious at the same time about what this couple's future will look like but i will enjoy every suffering every second TRUST
no uncomfortable crowds of strangers, no drinking, and definitely no crazy shit. no situations. sunday night is a time for your friends to decompress and be together. for the air around you to feel lived-in—warm with the familiar smell of beer, leftover pizza, and jin’s precious vanilla candle trying its best.
the tv is loud.
taehyung is yelling at hobi for not having his ‘head in the game.’ meanwhile, jungkook is laughing like he hasn’t lost three games in a row. jimin and yoongi are calling out better strategies for either of their friends to pick up and win the game.
you’re sitting on the couch, half-watching the screen. legs crossed. fingers curled lightly around a warm beer bottle. your face is relaxed, disinterested. your chest, however, is another story—tight.
buzzing.
like something hot is pressed under your skin.
beside you is him.
namjoon, whose thigh is pressed to yours. whose eyes keep lingering over the silhouette of your cleavage… you don’t have it in you to ignore it. to play nonchalant or act like you don’t want what he’s probably thinking about. instead, you let his fingers brush the inside of your knee. lazily. like he’s thinking about something else entirely.
you don’t move.
you don’t want to.
as the others continue their chaos, he shuffles closer to you. then, in a low and casual murmur, he asks; “can you say it?”
when he says it, he doesn’t even look at you. instead, his eyes finally move away from your chest and to the tv. he’s pretending to pay attention to the game.
you exhale softly. still watching the screen.
“say what?”
then, his fingers trail higher.
slow.
up to the soft skin of your inner thigh.
his pinky grazes the hem of your shorts and stays there. the kind of touch that’s not overt enough to call out—but impossible to ignore. nam joon is always thankful for your choice of clothing. tonight, your little yoga shorts are the perfect mix of challenge and easy access.
with a lazy smirk, he tilts his head and finally meets your eyes.
“that you missed me.”
you blink at him.
tilting your head, you play dumb. “why? we hung out last week.”
nam joon lets out a scoff.
“yeah. with everyone.”
“still,” you tease. “we hung out last week.”
“hmm? but not like this,” he whines as his hand fully settles. his palm is warm against your thigh. your breath almost hitches as he adds; “not this close.”
then, he leans in, breath grazing the shell of your ear.
“can i?”
your throat tightens. stomach dips.
you know what he means. you know this game. this excitement of being caught in the act… but more than that? doing things out in the open. being shameless like this… it’s a different kind of needy that you love on him.
so, you nod.
and just like that, something shifts.
namjoon’s eyes drop to your mouth. they linger. then, he blinks his attention down your legs and his hand moves—slow and sure, sliding between your thighs like he’s just shifting positions, like it’s nothing.
his fingers drag up. you uncross your legs without thinking. stupid. obvious.
but no one’s watching.
he leans back, casual, and grabs the hem of his hoodie. pulls it off in one motion and drops it over your lap like a blanket. you know this move. he’s done it before. cocky. practiced.
his hand stays under the hoodie.
his fingers trace the seam of your panties.
you blink, steadying your breath. jaw tight. stare blankly at the tv where yoshi’s flying off the track again.
he finds your clit with two fingers. rubs once.
you exhale. shift your hips just slightly, like adjusting.
he dips lower, fingers sliding into the heat of you through your underwear, testing. when he feels how wet you are—how ready—you feel his breath catch. he huffs a laugh.
“fuck.”
you press your thighs together and he shoves his hand deeper. you gasp as you feel his fingers slip in between your folds. you buck your hips a little, lifting so it’s easier for him.
he’s not being nice.
he’s slow, yes. but cruel with it. curling his fingers just right, drawing lazy patterns. two fingers, slipping under the fabric now. touching you where it’s warmest. softest. slickest.
you swallow.
his other hand comes up to your jaw. not to hold it—just to tilt it. he wants to see your face. he always wants to see what you’ll give him.
you meet his eyes. and he smiles like he’s already got you undone.
“ready?” taehyung says suddenly, turning around from the tv.
namjoon doesn’t blink. doesn’t move. his fingers stay buried in you.
“we’ll play next round—”
“mhfffm—”
taehyung blinks.
“damn, ___. if you gotta pee, just go. you’re squirming.”
someone laughs. you can’t tell who.
you can’t breathe.
you offer taehyung an awkward smile before he turn back to the screen. as the others chatter goes on full blast again, you pull namjoon’s hand out slowly—grip his wrist under the hoodie and slide it out like it’s nothing. he lets you. grinning like a bastard.
you smooth your expression and excuse yourself from the group (who are paying 0% of attention to you). walking out of the living room, you head down the hall and enter the bathroom. you shut the bathroom door behind you. the second it clicks, your back hits the wall. you breathe out hard.
two beats later, you hear it.
footsteps.
he doesn’t knock.
just opens the door, steps in, and locks it behind him. still grinning.
his fingers are glistening.
“missed you too, by the way,” namjoon murmurs, voice low, almost sheepish. like the words had been sitting on his tongue too long, softening at the edges.
then his hands are on your face—warm, familiar, thumbs brushing just beneath your cheekbones like he's memorizing the shape of you again.
he leans in, and you meet him halfway.
the kiss starts slow. his mouth moves over yours like he’s rediscovering it, like he’s starving for softness after too long without. he exhales through his nose and you feel it fan across your skin—hot, shaky. he kisses like someone who's been thinking about it for weeks. like he wants to make sure you feel every second of it.
his fingers curl a little tighter against your jaw.
your hands find the hem of his shirt, not to lift it, not yet—just to hold onto something real.
he pulls back just slightly, forehead resting against yours, lips ghosting over your mouth, like he’s not done.
summary: He smokes cigarettes. You hate it. You always have a lighter in your pocket. He is pissed off because it isn't for him, you say. So much is said, but the truth is in the silence.
wc: 26.7k; warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smoking cigarettes, negative attitudes about smoking, quitting smoking; mentions of misogyny in South Korea; slow burn; constant bickering, tbh; smut (fem reader, striptease (?), heavy making out, scratching, penetrative sex, he puts his hand over her mouth and she licks it, multiple orgasms, handjob, fingering); non-idol!AU - smoker, pining, bratty!JK x cold, independent, insomniac!reader; reader's POV
--
“Got a light?”
You reached in your pocket and pulled out the lighter that you always kept on you. It had a dragon insignia etched into the black metal. Heavy and substantial. Serious enough to bruise if thrown with enough force. You flicked it open with your thumb and raised it.
Jeon Jungkook leaned in, holding a cigarette between his lips expectantly.
You made your distaste evident in your expression.
He smirked.
You pressed the button and the orange flame shot up. Burning paper and tobacco. The end of the cigarette glowed red. You pulled your hand away, flicking your wrist to extinguish the flame. Slipped it back into your pocket and resumed not looking at him. You heard him inhale with a satisfied sigh before bleeding out smoke to the sky.
“You smoke too?”
“Fuck no,” you snapped. “I’m not disgusting.”
There was a sharp sucking sound of Jungkook’s incredulous annoyance. “Hm. Then the lighter’s just for me, huh?” His voice was throaty with nicotine. You hadn’t moved away yet. He nudged your shoulder with his knuckles. You didn’t react. “You like me that much?”
You could smell the fumes in the air even though he was attempting to be careful about it. That was the thing about smoke. It got everywhere. A gaseous parasite. You didn’t reply. Instead, you stuck your hands in your denim jacket pockets and acted as if he wasn’t there. Predictably, not a single person looked your way, even with your pleated blue plaid miniskirt was grazing the bottom of your ass and your black pleather corset showing off the ample curve of your breasts.
No one wanted to deal with the big tattooed guard dog smoking just behind you.
He was trying to stand close but not too close. You wondered if Jungkook was aware of how much subtilty he lacked. He likely had no clue. He called your name, casually, desperate for some sort of attention.
“Just say it.”
You turned your head maybe an iota of a degree in his direction, glaring at him from under your black baseball cap. Seething.
“The lighter is not for you, Jeon Jungkook.”
His lips twisted into a pout. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair which definitely worked on other people. Just not you. He held the lit cigarette away from you, and so you spared him a little more of your gaze, pivoting your black boot to view him at an angle.
“You’re lying,” he asserted with false confidence. “You’ve always got it when I ask.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean that it’s for you. Could be for someone else.”
This revelation did not pacify him. The opposite, actually. His brows knitted together. The corner of your lips ticked upward. This pissed him off even more as you seemed to imply scenarios that he very much did not like. You were curious on what how he would approach it.
“Yeah, right. Sure.” He took a quick drag and blew it towards the sky. His dark eyes locked on you. He called your bluff. “You don’t like smoking. There’s no way you would hang out with anyone else who does. You already told me that’s the reason we’re not dating.” Uncertainty etched into his stern expression. “… Right?”
You tilted your head at him.
You watched your silence infuriate Jungkook. He puffed up his chest a little, which was admittedly impressive even in his oversized black t-shirt. He had big pectoral muscles. He had picked up working out to add an addiction in attempt to subtract one. He did smoke less in your presence. But not zero.
“Right?”
He was being very demanding and prissy right now.
You pursed your lips and sucked on the side of your teeth. Then you said, “Yup. That’s the only reason.”
Despair ghosted over his features. He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. There was slightly more than three-fourths left. His eyes went from you to the concrete sidewalk and then back again. You frowned.
“Don’t even think about littering,” you warned.
He clicked his tongue and flicked ash behind him. “So? Who is it?”
“Who is who?” You taunted back in the same irked tone, minus the underlying insecurity.
“The other person you’re cheating on me with,” Jungkook snapped.
You weren’t bothered by his fury. “I’m not cheating on you if you’re not my boyfriend to begin with.”
He shot you a look that could have scalded most. “And whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
“Tch, then be my girlfriend and take them from me.”
“Not how this works,” you countered, shifting your stance away from him. Slight panic flashed over his features. You ignored it. “My bus is coming soon.”
“Ugh,” he tutted. “I hate that you go to concerts alone.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend your money on smokes, you could join me.”
“I asked,” he growled. “I have the money. You said no.”
You sent him a soulless smile. “Because you smoke.”
Jungkook looked ready to put out the cigarette on his own arm. But you were already backing away. He half-followed, still talking.
“You’re going dressed like that? You’re going to get groped.”
You did your best to not call him stupid. You settled for an eye-roll. “Why do you think I stuck around after you asked for a light?” You stopped. So did he, avoiding closeness. He looked confused. “Men stay away from me when they smell smoke on my clothes. Either I smoke or I’ve got a boyfriend who does. Either way, not attractive.”
He flinched at your double-edged comment. Then, with a measured amount of bravery, Jungkook took a step forward and tapped your chest with his hand that held the cigarette. You made a displeased face. A tendril of smoke drifted upwards for the suspended second that he held his fingertips to your skin. You narrowed your eyes at him. He backed up, lifting both hands up in defeat. He licked his lower lip, looking down at you.
“If the lighter’s not for me, then what’s it for?”
There was a metal screech of heavy brakes behind you, closer to the street.
You glared up at him, wishing he picked better addictions.
Only time could tell.
“Arson,” you replied, and turned around to step onto the bus, leaving Jungkook alone once again. He would tire of it soon enough.
-
You scowled.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
The crowd was parting as you were heading to the train station. Just before you were meant to enter, a man approached you with a plastic bag and a bottle of water. He looked almost as aggravated as you felt. His hands were occupied so for once he couldn’t ask for a light.
“Is that any way to greet someone waiting for you?” Jeon Jungkook growled.
You were far from impressed. “Did I ask you to wait for me?” You answered yourself. “No, I didn’t. So, you’re the stalker here.”
His dark eyes shifted over the passerby you had no interest in. He looked back at you with a peeved expression. “Better me than an actual creep.”
“Spoiler alert: you are an actual creep.”
You kept your distance, wary, and made to walk around him. Something flashed in his gaze but he shut his eyes and sucked in the side of his cheek with a sharp sound. His body turned, semi-following you. You noticed he was wearing a black leather jacket, a different cream shirt, and dark olive cargo pants. Same black sneakers from earlier though. His black hair seemed faintly damp. He must have taken a shower. Perhaps he went to work out while you were gone for hours.
“At least take the water and food,” Jungkook scoffed, holding out the items. “You’re probably dehydrated and hungry. Don’t your feet hurt from standing so long?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing.”
You stopped and stared him down. He rolled his eyes. He seemed hurt. It didn’t matter if he was avoiding your gaze; you could tell. There was no reason to soften your tone, but at the very least you reached out and took the water bottle from him. The condensation felt nice on your palm already. You unscrewed the cap with a cold expression and heard the plastic crack. He hadn’t tempered with it, at least. A part of you felt bad for assuming the worst, but, then again, this was South Korea. You took a sip and pointed with the cap to the plastic bag.
“What food?”
Jungkook started, diverting his peek at your reaction in hopes you didn’t notice. You had. “Pan-fried tteokbokki,” he mumbled.
One of your favorites. At least he used his ears sometimes. “You really balled out, huh. How much I owe you?”
He took offense. “You think I don’t make enough money to treat you?”
“What do you need to treat me for?”
“Aren’t we friends?” Jungkook shot back.
You were mid-sip when the damage was already done. You saw him freeze up and then quickly look away. People walking past were giving you both weird looks, splitting around the two of you as a river does to a pesky rock stuck in the middle. You lowered the water bottle. He shoved his free hand into his front pant pocket. His knuckles indented the fabric. You looked from them, to back up to his face. His brows were knitted together and he appeared to be biting back an insult.
Or something else.
You reached for the bag.
Hooked your fingers around the handles. He didn’t let go. Nor acknowledge you. You tugged lightly. He remained an immovable statue. You took a step forward and pulled up, turning your face away from his chest in the process.
Jungkook whipped his head back and glared down at you.
His grip tightened. You pressed your lips together as the side of your fingers touched the side of his. He smelled fresh. He had definitely showered. The stale scent of his cigarette from earlier still lingered on your denim jacket. You shifted your eyes and made eye contact. Close. Not touching, though. Just enough for a misunderstanding that wasn’t going to happen because both of you were crystal clear on your stances.
He let go of the bag.
The weight fell onto your fingers.
He was searching for the words but you interrupted his thoughts.
“You gonna make sure I get home safe?” you asked.
He looked away. “Don’t be stupid.” Tightened his jaw. “What kind of man would I be if I just let you wander around at night by yourself?”
You watched his profile. He didn’t turn back. You stepped back. His eyes followed, as unnoticeable as he believed, and you let him have that, choosing instead to start walking.
“Might as well eat while it’s warm. I could sit down for a bit.”
You didn’t look back to see if he was after you. You heard him bite back his reply and swiftly pivot, and then it was both you against the night of blaring headlights and a dissipating crowd, feeling two kinds of alone despite all the people around. You ended up at the underground food court. Probably where he purchased the tteokbokki to begin with. Found a table and unwrapped the container. A paper-sleeved wooden skewer was tucked against the lid.
Jungkook threw himself into the seat across from you and pulled out his phone, beginning his doomscrolling.
It was still warm. Lightly spicy. Probably a bit too heavy for late night but that was why it tasted better than usual. You caught his darting glimpse as you ate. Raised an eyebrow. He pretended not to notice. Or was it that he pretended not to care? You raised the skewer and tilted it towards him. He continued to ignore you even though his body was halfway turning.
“Want one?”
“I’m fine,” he instantly answered. Almost smugly.
You knew what he was doing. Still, you acted as if you didn’t. “I can’t eat it all anyway. Don’t waste.”
Those dark brown orbs shifted back. His eyebrows furrowed. He did his best to sound annoyed. “You don’t eat enough.”
“Even if I didn’t, I should eat something healthier,” you pointed out, keeping your face neutral.
He reached for the skewer and you pierced one of the rice cakes instead. Soaking it in the sauce and holding it out. Jungkook locked eyes with you. You slid the container closer so he could lean over it.
He took the skewer from your fingers and fed himself.
All while staring at you.
The eye contact was broken by his eyes closing. Enjoying the food. Crispy, warm, spicy. Chewy on the inside, in that satisfying way that one could enjoy the seeping heat all over the tongue. He stabbed another and ate that too, without asking. You hadn’t expected him to. You hadn’t expected him to do any of this, actually. You drank another sip of water.
“I’ll take the train home.”
“I don’t think so,” Jungkook grumbled with full cheeks, sliding the container back to you and shoving the wooden skewer in your hand. His brief touch lingered. You searched for his expression but he covered the lower half of his face with his other hand, keeping his eyes shut and chewing as he spoke. “I came on my bike. I’ll drop you off at your place.”
Now that was sounding a little too familiar. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve done it before.”
He cracked open an eye and you could tell he was frowning even though his hair had fallen over his temples. “Just because you’ve done it before doesn’t mean it’s smart or safe.”
He underestimated your resting psycho bitch face. You speared two pieces of tteokbokki and crammed them in your mouth. Chewed with irritation. You swallowed. “No one is out to get me.”
Those three-quarter moons remained unconvinced. “That you know of.”
You raised your eyebrows and moved to continue eating. “You watch too much true crime.”
“You don’t watch enough. You are the one that should be cautious,” Jungkook retorted.
“I am cautious.” You glanced at him above pan-fried rice cake. “But you can’t live always being afraid of possible horrors. If I did that, well, I would sleep even worse than I already do.”
You ate.
Jungkook lowered his eyes and went pensively silent.
There wasn’t anything to say. You cleaned up. Threw away the remains appropriately. Began to walk with him subtly leading the way. The night felt darker. Quieter. The concert crowd was gone and now the streets were full of night owls on their own lonely missions. You pretended passersby parted to let you and him through. The more likely answer was avoidance though. There wasn’t anything that friendly about Jungkook’s rigid presence and your inherently cold one.
In a parking lot now.
His black and chrome motorcycle was parked. A beast in its own right. Lately, you had been thinking of his addictions. Tattoos. Motorcycles. Cigarettes. Chasing after the un-chasable. Was he simply a thrill seeker or was he attempting to break an internal perfection that he had been living by for far too long? Or just doing anything that came to mind to try and feel something? You stopped walking when he did. He did his thing. And then Jungkook held out a lump of black fabric to you.
You raised your eyebrows.
He half-shrugged. “You can’t get on the bike in that skirt.”
He was right. You didn’t want him to be right. You took the lump that turned out to be a pair of his sweatpants. The Nike ones he usually wore to work out. You made a face. He rolled his eyes as he produced the helmet.
“They’re clean,” he huffed. “I ain’t nasty.”
You had quite a few comebacks for that but you kept your mouth shut. You wondered if he noticed how he slipped out of his practiced Seoul dialect for half a sentence. You noticed. You averted your eyes. It was late. The adrenaline was wearing off to soreness. You could only give about a rat’s ass of a fuck right now. Fuck it. You started bending down.
“Woah!”
All of a sudden you felt a strong grip on your forearm, pulling you back up and dragging you forward, sandwiching you in between the large motorcycle and Jungkook’s scowl, quickly letting go once you glared. You narrowed your eyes. He gave you a disapproving frown.
“I’m wearing shorts under this,” you hissed under his chin.
“Booty shorts, maybe,” he snapped back. “Also, shorts or not, they don’t hide your shape. Idiot.”
He was wrong. You were wearing black boyshort-style panties. Semantics. Instead of bending down, you raised one leg to lower the inner zipper of your boots. Immediately, Jungkook caught your shoulder, steadying you. You didn’t thank him. You glowered. He glowered back as you undid the other one. You stomped down and bunched up the legs of the sweatpants, first sticking in one foot and then the other, doing a little dance in and out of your boots, before forcefully yanking them up your legs. He didn’t let you fall, but he also didn’t look either, swiftly turning his head to stare out into the street. There was a brief moment where you had to decide to tuck in your skirt or let it flare out over the top of the pants. You opted for the latter, straightening and smoothing out the pleats over the crotch of his borrowed sweatpants.
He glanced back and frowned.
You noticed. “What?”
His eyes drifted up. Brow knitted together. He let go of your shoulder. “Not fair that you look cute,” he muttered.
“I look dumb as hell.” You bent over and rezipped your boots, adding under your breath, “But it’s better than nothing. I guess.” You stood up again.
There was a shifty, expectant silence.
You wanted to go home and sleep. At the same time, you wanted to be awake. Jungkook hesitated for a moment and then handed you the helmet in his hands before circling around you to grab the other one he had stored, leaving you to figure that shit out on your own. He avoided your gaze as surely as you did his. The whole scene looked less weird that it felt. You heard the engine purr to life. He said something and you ignored him, buttoning up your jacket so your valuables wouldn’t fall out. Not your best look, however, you had not planned any of this in any capacity.
Jungkook was already seated, his long legs extended to the asphalt to steady himself.
“So, you–”
You placed your hand on his bicep and stepped onto the footpeg, nimbly swinging your leg over to balance behind him. Underneath your hand, you felt him stiffen as you settled, sliding your other arm around his back and temporarily landing on his hip before you removed the hand on his upper arm to grip his waist.
“O… Oh.”
He cleared his throat.
“I’m good,” you confirmed even though he hadn’t asked.
He felt warm and solid and you did your best to ignore it.
“R-Right.” A pause before he said, “Hold on, alright?”
You squeezed his waist.
“Mhm.”
Jungkook took you home.
-
“I’ll get the pants back later,” he said as you handed him the helmet back. “Go on up.”
You observed him. Jungkook did his best to be calm and not jittery. He gave you a strange look, realizing that you were analyzing him. He had killed the engine so he didn’t have to shout. He cradled the helmet you had borrowed with one hand, the other on the handle of his motorcycle for a moment before using it to raise the visor to uncover his dark eyes.
You paused.
Then, you unbuttoned your denim jacket, reaching into the inner pocket for your lighter.
You held it out to Jungkook.
He glanced at it, and then at you.
You ticked your head. “You’ll need a light again. Inevitably. Take it.”
His gaze sharpened. He looked away quickly, and you could tell by the contortion of his features that he was shoving his tongue into his cheek, letting out an annoyed huff. Then, he shook his head, as if your audacity was something to behold. Jungkook then transferred the helmet to the crook of his arm and shoved his dominant, tattooed hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, ripping out a slightly crumpled cigarette box with one corner torn open.
He slapped it over your dragon lighter.
“Shit.”
You stared at your palm. And then at him. Jungkook glared back, exhaling hard.
“Take ‘em,” he mumbled. His Busan dialect was even more obvious now. His voice was gruff and his manner blunted. “Just fuckin’ take them.”
“I don’t want these,” you retorted.
“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed to daggers. “Neither should I.” His eyes shifted down and then back up. “Inevitably. You’re so fucking full of it.”
You almost flung both objects at his face. Almost. Yet something made you reconsider. Something about Jungkook’s demeanor shifted. He tried to keep his tone sharp but it was dulled by his body language. He cocked his chin in the most falsely cocky way.
“You think I’m gonna want ‘em?”
Your gazes locked.
“Then I’ll have to come to you to get ‘em.”
You pursed your lips. “I’m going to throw them away.”
He dared you. “Do it.”
“You’ll waste your money and time.”
“And I’ll be reminded you’ll never let me live it down,” Jungkook growled. “I’ll think twice before putting myself through that fire.”
Silence.
Eye to eye.
You held his stare.
Then, you lowered your hand, clutching his cigarettes and your lighter, backing away, and quickly spinning on your heel, striding into your apartment building. You punched in the code. Behind you, you heard the swift kick of an engine roar and then a fading zip away as you yanked open the glass door. You didn’t look back. You pocketed Jeon Jungkook’s cigarettes.
-
Nights later, you sat on the floor next to your bed, flicking your lighter on and off to kill the flame and revive it. Over. And over. You stared at the tiny orange burst. Then extinguished it. Then ignited it again. Such a small light. So fragile and yet so capable of burning this entire apartment down. You breathed out. Fixated on the dancing flame. Time passed.
You sat in silence.
You snapped the lid closed, snuffing it out.
The room was semi-dark. Your bedside table lamp was the only light on. The curtains were open, giving you a view of the city skyline etched into the black sky. The area was actually pretty quiet. You got lucky with a neighborhood full of older folks who mostly minded their own damn business. The apartments were older in a homely sort of way. The most telling trait of the apartment complex was the general unease in the air. Probably because some of the older folks had died in their apartments before. People could be superstitious like that. Maybe you were too. You just didn’t see it as a negative.
Which said a lot about you.
You looked up to your nightstand. Next to the dingy chrome base of your lamp was an open pack of cigarettes. The box was missing maybe three or four of them, you guessed. You hadn’t torn it open to confirm.
Behind your head, your phone began to vibrate.
You lifted your hand and placed your lighter on the nightstand. The lines of the dragon engraving caught the low light, casting shadows over it. Your hand pivoted and you felt around the bed. Found the smoothness of the screen and pulled your phone to you, lowering it to your lap before looking at the caller ID. You frowned slightly once you noticed the time. That late, huh? And this person almost never called or texted. Well. At least not to you.
You accepted the call and brought it to your ear out of habit.
“Ya. You,” mumbled the slurred, distorted voice of Jeon Jungkook.
You responded just as politely. “What?”
He let out a huff. There was a fair bit of rustling and maybe the sound of glass on table. “I want you to know something.” You didn’t reply to that. It wasn’t a question. He paused anyway. Maybe expecting you to reprimand him. You stayed silent. “Ah, fuck.” He exhaled hard into the microphone. You held your phone slightly away from your ear even though you couldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath. “Look. I’m not drinking because I need a smoke.” You doubted it. “I just felt like drinking. It’s Friday.” He wasn’t wrong. “I… I get it, okay? I get why you don’t like it. Makes sense and all. I…” He trailed off again, struggling to find the words. “But I’m not like you. I’m not. I don’t have my shit together.”
“I don’t have my shit together,” you interjected. Should be obvious from you answering his call perfectly awake at three in the morning. He didn’t seem to be thinking rationally at the moment though. If he ever did.
“Fuck off.” He lost control of his Seoul dialect. Kept going back and forth between upstanding citizen and gruff Busan satoori. You wondered if he was aware. Probably not. “You have it way more together than me. I’m fuckin’ trying. Ugh.” His tone tightened. “It’s not… It’s not how you think it is. It’s not.”
You weren’t sure you thought it was anything but you let him talk. Nothing else to do, after all.
“I have great parents, you know.” He sighed. Despondently annoyed. “They’re awesome. I wanted to be a good son. That’s… I mean, doesn’t everybody? I listened to them. I listened to be teachers. I listened to my classmates. I wanted to be a good person, so I did everything asked of me from others.” His voice deepened to a soft growl.
“But… People take. I didn’t even realize it.”
You realized that Jungkook sounded sad.
“They take when they know you give. And I gave, because my parents taught me to be a good person and I didn’t want to disappoint them by people calling me heartless or cruel. But…” Mumbled something you didn’t catch. Cleared his throat. “It was becoming too much. I got fed up. I had to start saying no. But not before I had already said yes to a lot of stuff that I shouldn’t have said yes to. I had already developed bad habits by then.”
A few seconds of silence.
You broke it. “You’re too easily influenced,” you accused.
“Yeah, fuck me,” Jungkook grumbled. “Fuck me for not knowing that there are people are out there don’t have my best interests at heart and want to see me fucked up because they feel some type of way. My bad.”
You figured that was common sense. But maybe not. Maybe not, considering the way he talked about his parents. You pushed back your own personal biases despite their intrusive nature.
“Is your family disappointed in you?” you quietly asked.
“Me?” He let out a humorless laugh. “No. No, they’re supportive. Even if they don’t like my tattoos or the piercings or whatever, no one has ever made me feel shit about it. Everyone is positive. Even began to like those things about me when most elders would lose their shit.” He sighed. “But… I still didn’t quit the cigarettes. Just didn’t smoke around them, because I didn’t want to see my mom sad. But still. I didn’t even want to try to quit.”
A moment of reluctance.
“Until… Until I met you,” sighed Jungkook, his deep voice heavy.
Was that supposed to be flattering? You didn’t have time to ponder it.
“Hmph… I’m so envious of you.” A light thud. More rustling. He sounded a little muffled and a lot out of it. “You’re never ruffled. No matter what anyone says or does, you’re always yourself. You don’t relent even when I act like a prick. It’s so… Hah. I can’t do that.” He sounded defeated. “I try to not care too. I’m trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. The second I think I’ve got it, yes, this is me, I remember it’s not. It’s not. I just copied someone else I saw that I thought… Copying you… You’re right. Lots of people told me to quit. Or keep going, it’s not that bad. They can all fuck right off, until…”
A weak shuffle and then you could barely hear the whisper in between the phone lines. His face was seemingly buried into something. He sounded both far away and so very close at once.
“What am I doing…? It doesn’t… Doesn’t make sense.”
You almost said something. It wasn’t the right time. You shifted your position on the floor, leaning back against the bed. He must have heard that you were still on the other side of the line. He dragged more strength into his voice. As much as he could muster, anyway.
“How…” He shuddered. Whispered your name under his breath in the same way sailors called to stars to navigate the sea on a cold night. “You told me I should quit and… Yeah. I know you’re right. I know. I… The other night…”
The night you attempted to give him your lighter to keep.
Jungkook sniffed. “You can’t… Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter how you do it,” he mumbled. “You do. You just do. And so do I. I gotta just do.”
You finally spoke.
“Yes,” you sighed. “That’s the truth.”
Cradled the phone, leaning it against your temple.
“The world doesn’t care.” He sounded resigned but no longer on the edge. “Everyone just does what they wanna do.”
A long pause. For some reason, you had the impression that both of you were curled up somewhere at home suddenly feeling not at home. Maybe it was the time of the night. Or the alcohol on his end. Or the insomnia on your end. The long seconds marched on. Then, Jungkook asked you a question with a statement.
“I wish I knew what… What I wanna do.”
Silence.
You half-smiled knowing he couldn’t see it. Preferred, actually, that he didn’t. “Gonna be honest,” you chuckled. “I don’t know what I want to do. I follow my instincts and accept wherever I end up.”
He snorted. Haughtily. It was meant to dent to your demeanor and it was about as effective as a puff of popcorn. “Of course. Hah.” Exhaled hard, taking the fight out of himself. “You really… You really don’t know…?”
You debated what you did and didn’t know. “About what?”
An irritated huff. Something about your tone seemingly made him hesitate, though. He caught the gist of what was unsaid. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Sober Jungkook could never.
“If.” Just that. If. “Ah…”
He breathed out your name. It was very late. The darkness was at its peak. But Jeon Jungkook breathed your name with the capacity of a dreamer, half-conscious and losing fast.
“I won’t let it end like this.”
There were a few minutes of quiet.
You hung up before he could start snoring in your ear. A small part of you kind of wanted to hear it. But, instead, you hung up. Placed your phone on your lap. Stared straight ahead, to the windowsill and the peek of the city skyline against a black sky. You thought about his voice on the other end. Calling for you. You sat in silence. Night bled away. You wanted to reach for the lighter again. Your instincts told you not to.
So, you hoisted yourself up and crawled under your covers, giving in to exhaustion’s embrace.
-
The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook was an evening at a convenience store. It was a coincidence. Or perhaps one of fate’s great jokes. You spied him the second you walked into the small establishment. He was talking to a tall man with a sun-kissed tan and longish black hair in soft curls. They obviously knew each other. Jungkook’s laugh was his typical bright guffaw that he tried to stifle to not be a public disturbance.
For a second, you almost forgot that call from a few nights ago.
You looked away, heading to the other side of the store.
Before you did, though, he had glanced in your direction and done a double-take. You moved into an aisle, out of sight, heading to the back, changing your original intent for being here. This particular convenience store was family-owned. It had a small section where the owner’s wife prepared fresh gimbap daily. You wondered how many people knew about this, because it was always stocked. Maybe they preferred to buy from bigger stores, not trusting a small business. You grabbed a tray of heftily-filled tuna gimbap before heading to the fridge section for drinks.
Jungkook was standing there.
You pulled back into the aisle.
His back had been to you, so he didn’t have the chance to notice. Half-in the fridge, picking something out among the electrolyte replenishers and flavored waters. He carried a black backpack that seemed heavy with things. Workout stuff, you assumed. His companion earlier had a towel around his shoulders and had worn a red tank top with exaggerated armholes, revealing a built chest and defined arms. Jungkook’s black hair looked slightly damp, possibly sweaty, pushed back and away from his forehead. He was wearing an open navy hoodie, white tank top, gray sweatpants, and white sneakers. It was safe to assume the backpack had workout shit in it. You wondered where the other guy was. He had been very tall. Easy to spot over the tops of the aisles, but he seemed to no longer be in the store. He must have left, then. No one to distract Jungkook any longer. Hm. You still wanted a drink, but.
Not that badly.
You zipped your black hoodie over your exposed stomach once you noticed the cashier was the elderly woman. You probably would have zipped it no matter who it was. The older generation just tended to be less subtle about their judgements. You approached the register and she smiled, greeting you. You slid the tuna gimbap over to her.
He was behind you.
You glanced at the glass behind the cashier. The cabinet held various brands of cigarettes. It was very well-polished, and you could see Jungkook behind you, sternly staring at the back of your head. You turned around.
He shot you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows.
“The total is–”
In his hands was a big bottle. Some kind of sports drink. You took it from him, and put it next to your tuna gimbap. The old woman didn’t quite register the speed of your action, blinking several times.
“Sorry,” you said. “Could you please add this too? Thank you.”
Clearly, she could only focus at one thing at a time. She did not realize you had snatched the drink from the man behind you, which would immediately raise eyebrows. Instead, the older woman was preoccupied with searching for the barcode, turning the bottle this way and that, poking the scanner against it.
Adding it to your receipt.
You felt a hand on your shoulder.
You pulled out your card as the cashier stated your new total. Tapped it as Jungkook hissed your name under his breath, but you ignored him, accepting the purchase as the cashier carefully packed up your meal and someone else’s drink in the same small clear plastic bag. She smiled her customer service smile and then noticed the disheveled punk behind you with a slight widening of her eyes.
You thanked her again and wished her a nice day before gripping his hoodie sleeve and dragging him with you.
Immediately let go when you exited the establishment, finally paying heed to the muttering of curses behind you. You reached into the thin plastic bag and pulled out his drink, pivoting slightly to give it to him. Jungkook snatched it from your hand, scowling.
“I don’t need your fuckin’ charity,” he snapped.
You wondered if he even remembered his drunken laments. “It’s not charity.” You affixed an impassive expression. “Not for you, anyway. Just making it easier for the cashier.” You began to take a few steps in the direction you needed to go.
He scoffed, “What are you doing, anyway?” and cocked his chin at you. “Stalking me now?”
You wondered if he was wishing for that. “I’m retrieving dinner like everybody else at this hour. ‘Cept you, I guess,” you added, unzipping your hoodie again even though the sun was dropping fast.
“What the–”
And Jungkook quickly jogged up beside you, shielding your body with his.
“The hell you doing?”
You glared but didn’t stop walking. “What?” Impolitely.
He pointed to your sports bra with a flick of his wrist. “Uh, you can’t leave the house like that.”
“I already have,” you pointed out. His eyes were glued to your sports bra and the low-waisted black Nike sweatpants clinging to your hips.
“And you think nothing is going to happen to you?” Jungkook indignantly shot back, blocking your way and darting his gaze around as if offenders were already on the horizon.
“Whether it does or not has no bearing on what I’m wearing,” you dryly replied. He was repeating a tale as old as time. Not that that made it any less real. It was all heard before, though. “You act like I haven’t lived for decades knowing the horrors of the world.”
His expression changed. Still frustrated. Slightly put off by your wording. And, sadly, comprehension. “That’s not what I mean.”
“That’s what you’re coming off as.”
“Not my intention,” he grumbled.
“Intentions don’t mean much in the face of what actually happens,” you said, glancing at him.
He shut up.
You almost regretted spilling your honesty.
“Sorry,” he said softly.
He seemed beaten down by your response. Eventually he shook his head and ran his free hand through his windswept black hair, trying to sneak a glimpse at your face. You were already staring at him. That threw him off. He looked away, flustered.
“Can I at least accompany you back?” he offered. Awkwardly.
You ticked your head. You knew that his gym was near that convenience store. “Don’t you live around here?” He had mentioned it, once. “I need to take the bus.” Earlier, you were aware that there was definitely a chance for you would run into him once you chose your destination. But it was the closest spot to buy liquor, and you hadn’t felt like traveling further. Then the original plan changed once you encountered Jungkook. Remembering all that made you pause. You diverted your gaze, adding, “Forget it. Go home.”
Monotone.
Your dismissal clearly annoyed him. He let out an exaggerated exhale and blocked you again when you tried to walk around him. You narrowed your eyes but didn’t raise your head. His tank top was tight, revealing the contours of his muscle. The shoulder of his hoodie had slid down, exposing part of his tattoo sleeve. Dark rings of petals in a hypnotizing mandala. The artist was talented enough to make you pause to admire. Then you swiftly looked away, anywhere else, shifting to his jaw. He stuck his tongue in his cheek and steeled himself.
“Fine.” He came to a conclusion, apparently. “I need a smoke.”
A ripple of aggravation shot through your temple. You turned your stare to fixate on Jungkook. He glared back, twice as stubborn.
“You serious?” you snarled. “Go back to the store then and buy some yourself.”
He rolled his eyes. “The fuck is the point of giving them to you, then?”
You jerked back, disgusted. “I didn’t fucking want them, asshole.”
“Yeah, well,” he pressed, becoming more resolute by the second. “That was the deal.”
You planted a palm on his chest and shoved him out of your way. Unbelievable. “There was no fucking deal,” you retorted, walking fast. He kept up because he was an annoying prick. You glowered, bristling at his presence. “What? You think you can do whatever you want, Jeon Jungkook?” The audacity of this bitch. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ give them to you anyway. So, promptly, fuck off.”
His fingertips touched your shoulder.
You yanked your body back as if scalded.
“Don’t touch me.”
He pulled his hand out of the air but didn’t back down. Those dark brown eyes narrowed. His lips thinned. Anger clouded his features. And. You felt your icy composure become brittle when you observed the distressed sadness poorly hidden underneath said anger.
A tense stillness.
“They’ll kill you,” you steely stated.
His gaze shifted. Contorted. The expression of all too well.
“Yeah.” He exhaled hard. “That’s the truth.”
Then his eyes drifted back to you.
All the fight in the air drained out. Neither of you dared to speak. There were volumes written within this shared quiet. Strangers walked past, sending you both strange looks. You and him were too busy being struck in three-in-the-morning thoughts shared during an impromptu phone call. You looked away. So did he. There was a loud screech of metal and heavy tires on asphalt. You didn’t say anything. You only had time for an instinctive decision.
You tapped Jungkook’s forearm and waved, quickly running to catch up with the bus.
Less than a minute later, him and you stiffly sat next to each other on worn seats, trying your best not to glance at one another or make eye contact with anyone else. It was mostly successful, other than a strong-smelling middle-aged man that was eyeing everybody a little too closely. He settled on you for an unknown but undoubtably nefarious reason. Jungkook shoved you against the side of the bus and firmly put his backpack in his lap, blocking the view of your torso from the stranger’s perspective. Either the random man noticed the silent hostility or lacked object permeance when drunk. He changed course.
Both of you relaxed slightly.
You zipped up your hoodie anyway. Couldn’t hurt. You lifted your head. By mistake, your eyes locked with Jungkook’s. He looked like he wanted to say something but he stayed mute for now. It was a quiet bus ride, leaving both of you in roads of thought neither of you wanted to be in.
-
“You can go home now.”
Jungkook reminded you. “I need a smoke, remember?”
You held your apartment keys and frowned at him. He gave you a casual shrug you didn’t trust. He held onto his backpack and the drink you had bought him, now half-empty. You turned away, licking the side of your teeth. Glanced from all the closed doors around you. You couldn’t shake the tension at your shoulders. Passed by his face. There was something in his expression. You let out an exhale through your nose and shoved your key into the lock, harshly twisting it.
“Fine. Go look for them,” you invited not-so-invitingly.
The door was old and jammed in the frame. You shoved it, hard, and it swung open with almost too much force. You grabbed the knob before it could hit the wall in a practiced motion, crossing the threshold to remove your shoes and scoot them by the wall. He followed, somewhat startled by your daily habits. You ignored him. Instead, you headed for the tiny kitchen with your tuna gimbap, intending to devour it as Jungkook did his search. Chopsticks from the drawer. Taking out the tray of food and placing it on the counter while you balled up the plastic bag to put it in the correct recycling bin. Yanked off the lid and picked up the end piece to eat.
You chewed.
It was fresh. Pretty good.
Without turning around, you removed your hoodie and threw it to the side. It shot to the back of the sofa and clumped. You kept eating. You had already heard Jungkook lock the door, remove his shoes, and dump his backpack on the hardwood floor with a thump. The cigarettes were exactly where you left them. Next to your bedside table lamp with your lighter leaning against them. You ate another piece, staring at the bottom of your gray-stained cabinets, and only now realizing how hungry you were. Huh.
It was eerily quiet.
Weird.
You chewed on your third piece and twisted your body to find Jungkook still standing by the door, staring at your living room with wide eyes. The apartment was quite small. Maybe a little bit crammed. The living room had a black fabric sofa, a dark-stained coffee table that had seen too many late-night dinners, and the TV on a low storage unit.
And mirrors.
Mirrors all over the walls. Most of them were small. Some were vintage with aged metal frames or darkened bamboo frames. Some of them weren’t in the best shape, the reflective glass becoming patchy and spotted. Some were a little more than smoked glass. They were all from thrift stores or resell markets. There was no real rhyme or reason to their placement all over the living room other than chaotically aesthetic. The ones on the bookshelf unit by the window were all lined up. Unique pocket mirrors with various shapes. There were a few anime and cartoon character motifs sprinkled in.
“What the fuck…?”
He finally gave you a look slight frightened concern but mostly confusion.
You shrugged. Casually. “I like to collect mirrors.” You munched.
“No shit?” Jungkook still looked mildly appalled. He furrowed his brows to regain some sort of control over his face. “And you called me a creep.” Still, he shuffled further in, peering over them. “There’s so many of them… The fuck you need all this for?”
“Nothing.”
He shot you a look over his shoulder and quickly diverted his eyes once he noticed your exposed shoulders. “Nothing?” he echoed indignantly.
“There’s no real purpose,” you reaffirmed, grabbing another piece of gimbap with a click of your chopsticks. “Why does anyone have a collection?”
Jungkook snorted. “Collecting music albums or even plushies is less weird then…” He paused. Then angled his body slightly, as if to listen to what you had to say without directly viewing you. “Is there a reason you collect mirrors?”
You, too, stilled. Seeing the back of his head and his broad shoulders suddenly reminded you that this was the first time you had ever invited Jeon Jungkook into your space and rather impulsively at that. You faced the counter again. The gimbap was about three-fourths gone. It was probably a good idea to finish it all now. You chewed on your lower lip, debating on whether or not to tell him the reason.
“When I was young,” you said, directed to the unfinished gimbap. “I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors. Guess I had some kind of complex about them.” You didn’t elaborate. You positioned your chopsticks over another piece of the roll but didn’t yet pick it up. “When I moved in here, I didn’t really care about decorating it either. Figured it didn’t matter. At some point, I got tired of the blank walls, so I went to a secondhand shop to find something to put on the wall, and I remembered I don’t like mirrors.”
Hated them, really.
“So, I brought one because I thought the design was cool. And kept buying them.”
You half-laughed, mirthlessly.
“I decided it’s stupid to hate something like that, anyway,” you muttered, and chomped down another piece. You should have gotten out the soy sauce. Hah. With self-exasperation, you opened a cabinet to take out the small glass dispenser. Poured a little on the edge of the tray to dip the last few pieces in.
“That’s cool.”
His voice seemed louder, somehow. “You called me a creep,” you hummed.
“I didn’t call you a creep,” Jungkook said behind you.
You turned around, bristling. He was distracted, looking around your relatively neat kitchen. Probably taking note that there were no mirrors here. You restricted your collection to the living room walls to prevent overbuying. His eyes stopped at the gimbap on the counter at waist height. His dark eyes raised. Tentative. Your pulse accelerated a bit. You kept your expression neutral, chewing slowly.
“Thought you needed a smoke?” you asked after swallowing. You waved your chopstick towards the bedroom. “Be my guest.”
The tips of his ears flushed pink. He was sort of looking at you but also not. You tried not to notice that his navy hoodie had fallen off his shoulder, revealing his defined, tattooed right arm all the way to his elbow. His hands were shoved into the side pockets of his sweatpants. He was in the middle of scrutinizing yours.
“Are those mine?” Jungkook asked, completely ignoring your question.
You flicked the side seam by your thigh. “I’ll wash them and give them back. Seemed pointless to wear them for only a short while and wash immediately.” You leaned against the counter. “I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”
His eyes shot up to your face at your comment. You shared a glare. Both of you held it more out of stubbornness than intimidation. For what reason, you weren’t sure. There were only parts of him you disliked. Not all of him. Well. Maybe if you and him dialed back the hostility, then.
Both of you broke eye contact at the same time.
“They… They look good on you.” It wasn’t said in a sarcastic way. The sincerity was somehow more alarming. “Keep them.”
“No thanks,” you retorted with more familiarity than you intended. “I don’t need your charity.” You shouldn’t have said that.
It didn’t end up mattering, though.
“Do you remember when I called you a couple nights ago?” Jungkook suddenly blurted, thrusting you both into whiplash of conversation topic change.
You froze.
There was no cue to tell you what was the right thing to say. It was best to glance at his expression to find out, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. There was something about the distance of a phone call that made deep conversations easier. But you realized from his abruptness that he, too, must have been struggling to bring up the elephant in the room. Could have let it sleep, but this guy wouldn’t let it be.
Still, you understood him.
You pursed your lips and rubbed your collarbone with your free hand. “Only one of us was drunk and it wasn’t me,” you finally sighed. Raised your head.
His ears were very red now. You saw Jungkook battle between being a smartass and his natural self. You saw him wish he was a natural smartass. He cleared his throat, his chest tensing. “Uh… Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry about… Calling so late.” He cleared his throat again despite his discomfort being purely emotional. His eyes shifted. “I didn’t think you’d answer… But you did.” He chanced a glimpse at your reaction.
You shrugged.
Casually.
He nodded quickly even though you hadn’t said anything. “I don’t remember everything I said,” he rambled in a tone that clearly indicated he did. “So, don’t, uh, don’t take it too seriously.” He was taller than you but it didn’t feel like that right now.
You considered his words and quietly replied with, “Okay.”
His eyes drifted to the kitchen counter. Lingered on your waist, but not for long. He ticked his chin towards the leftovers. “Can I have a piece?”
Wordlessly, you held out the chopsticks so he had access to the other, unused end. He hesitated. Then pulled a hand from his pocket. You moved out of the way as he retrieved the chopsticks from your grip and took a step to be closer to the counter.
It was weird.
Standing in your small kitchen next to Jeon Jungkook eating your dinner leftovers.
Mostly it was weird because it didn’t make you highly uncomfortable or positively annoyed. It felt normal, which is what made it otherworldly odd. As if you were getting used to his presence beside you. You winced and tried not to make it obvious. You heard him try to say your name between bites.
“Chew your food,” you muttered, angling your face away but not your body. Couldn’t bring yourself to watch him eat. You heard the rattle of the plastic tray against the counter as he dipped in the soy sauce. Then you felt a nudge by your arm.
Before you could stop your natural reaction, you were face-to-face with Jungkook who was holding out the last piece to you with full cheeks and an expectant expression. You blinked at him. The blunt end of the chopsticks was used, but he was holding out the gimbap with the slender side. The end you had been eating with. The seaweed glistened with soy sauce. His free hand was under the chopsticks, cradling air in the dire last resort that it fell. He roughly swallowed, looking more annoyed with each passing second.
“Open up.”
“No,” you automatically replied.
He rolled his eyes. “Come on.”
You made a face. “This is weird.”
He made a face back. Disturbing. “Shut up and open your mouth.”
“I wo–”
That was precisely the moment Jungkook shoved the chopsticks into your mouth. Instinctively, you lowered your jaw to catch it all, glaring at him. He scowled back, about to remove the chopsticks before you caught them in your teeth with your mouth full of tuna, vegetables, and rice. There was a brief, pointless tug of war before you pulled your head back rather than let him perform the action. Jungkook squinted at you, irritated, and you were just as perturbed, chewing decidedly before swallowing.
Sudden silence.
He lowered the chopsticks to balance them on the empty tray. You ran your tongue over your teeth to catch any rice stragglers. It became hard to maintain eye contact. Now he was facing the cabinets and you were facing the living room of mirrors. Minutes ticked by.
The quiet became violent.
You whipped your head to Jungkook. “So, what–”
He spoke at the same time. “You know I’m not joking, right?” he asked softly.
His profile was statuesque. Instantly recognizable. Imprinted in memory. And then his dark eyes shifted, his black hair framing his temples, and now Jungkook was searching for your eyes that remained on him. You shut your mouth. He realized he had interrupted you.
“What did you want to say?”
You faltered and then shook your head. “Not important.”
His brows furrowed. “Don’t–”
“Joking about what?” you interjected. “Don’t try to distract me.”
He was, rightfully, irate. “You–”
You wrapped an arm around your midsection, suddenly feeling cold. “Is this about you quitting smoking?”
Immediately he noticed. Your demeanor demanding him to answer was a little too intense to be ignored, though. “That’s…” He tutted, his voice deepening slightly. “I’ve already quit.” You raised an eyebrow. “What?” He was trying to unconvincingly convince you. It had barely been a couple weeks, anyway. ‘Ugh, okay, fine. Maybe I bummed a cig a couple of times. But only for a couple puffs. Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Jungkook snapped. “Like you don’t have any bad habits.”
“I have bad habits,” you answered coldly. “But I also deal with how I feel. Something you should get started on.”
He threw up his hands and began to back away from the counter, until.
“Is this how you want to spend your life?” you asked.
His back was to you now. Reluctance took over, rendering his movements as statuesque as he looked moments before. You stared at his back, wondering if you had gone too far. Wondering if these shared moments were all for naught. Not really in the very real chance that he could leave and never look back, but in the very real chance that he did and nothing changed for him. Or for you. In the chance that your interactions would ultimately mean nothing in this life when it was very clear that both of you wanted to mean something. Anything.
“I don’t.”
You looked up and Jungkook was looking back at you over his shoulder. He lowered his gaze when your eyes connected before half-turning to face you, halfway between running to and running from. You asked yourself, if it was anyone else, would you stay this silent? Before it registered, you reached out and tugged his hoodie sleeve.
After all, you did always have a light for him.
He raised his eyes.
“You’re trying. Aren’t you?” You gave him a dry smile before letting go.
His lashes lowered to waning half-moons. Then he ticked his head, asking, “Do you really hate it that much?” His eyes found yours. He already knew the answer and was asking it anyway.
You told him the truth. “Yeah.”
The corner of his lips flicked upwards wryly. “Damn. So honest.”
You almost laughed. “Well… You wouldn’t like me at all if you knew I was a liar.” Then your words caught up to you. “Not that you do,” you added after a beat.
“I do,” corrected Jungkook before looking away.
Maybe he was embarrassed by his admission. You, however, were preoccupied with other thoughts. The mirrors. Your insomnia. His tattoos. His cigarettes. Your coldness. His fire. The way you tended to lock down your deep emotions and the way his tended to spill out when they overflowed. You held the lighter. He longed to burn. You liked him. That thought lingered. You hated the smoking, true, not only because of all the obvious discomforts, but also because you had a feeling that he knew he could quit and only did it to further punish himself for things he didn’t do.
You just had a feeling since you, too, punished yourself for things you didn’t do.
You felt something soft brush against your shoulders.
His hoodie smelled like him, herbal and fresh with depth, with a vague hint of washed-out acid smoke. You glanced over. He looked apologetic, gesturing to your arm over your midsection. His built chest and sculpted shoulders were mildly distracting. His white tank top clung to his body, not leaving much to the imagination. You frowned. Jungkook saw your face and braced himself for a reprimanding.
You asked him a question you had been wondering for a while now.
“Did you plan this?”
That wasn’t what he expected. His features twisted into confusion. “Uh?” He seemed to forget his anxiousness for a moment. “Plan what?” The perfect deer-in-headlights look.
You angled your body to better face him and held the edge of the hoodie, narrowing your eyes. “You know what I mean,” you warned.
He sensed danger and held up his hands in defeat. “I don’t?”
Those big brown eyes begged you to believe him. Either he was stupid or a really good actor. You relaxed slightly. You weren’t banking on the latter and really hoped you were right. You grimaced, backing away. It wasn’t fair to let learned behavior judge him yet constant vigilance was also needed for survival. You sighed, stepping around him.
“Never mind. It’s late. Just sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“The fuck?” Jungkook followed, infuriated, much like the rest of the night. “I can’t do that.”
“The buses aren’t running this late,” you stated matter-of-factly. You waved him away, plopping onto your sofa with a tired exhale. “Or you can call a taxi, I guess. You want money for that?”
He smacked his hand down on the back of the sofa and scowled, bending down to intimidate you.
“I am not some kid!”
You looked up at him.
Jungkook froze, realizing the closeness.
He was naturally a very handsome man. You had always thought so. Never told him. He had probably heard it enough. He faltered, losing the fight but not yet letting go of the sofa. You observed the line of his jaw and thought about how hard he had to work to fulfill the image others had of him. How hard he worked to break that image, only to shoulder a different set of expectations, for only a certain level of coolness could combat the goodness he lost. If not one thing, then another. He must not have felt that he fit those ideals either. He couldn’t win.
You worried that he simply liked you in a vain attempt to feel some level of control.
Crestfallen, his eyes wandered, then realized he couldn’t because then he would be staring down your chest or at your thighs. He pretended that he wasn’t looking and raised his head, saying the first thing that came to mind.
“I feel like I don’t know you at all.”
It wasn’t so much accusatory as it was a revelation.
You lowered your gaze and realized you were staring at his chest or his crotch. That was out of the question. You almost wished he would sit down next to you, but he was right. There was a moment where you considered brushing him off as you did with everyone else. Your eyes connected. As you stared into those dark brown orbs, your instincts taunted you, asking you want you were afraid of.
“There’s nothing good to know,” you admitted. “Better to keep things to myself.”
His expression told you he fucking hated that.
He looked up to the mirrors around the room. You could see he was still a bit creeped out by them and tried very hard not to say it. Your elderly landlord did often joke about how you were inviting spirits into your home with these old mirrors. You usually countered with they also symbolized fate, to which he guffawed and asked how many fates you needed.
Sometimes, it felt like you needed every chance you could get.
“I can’t sleep in your bed,” he finally concluded, steeling himself.
“Your smokes are on my nightstand. So is my lighter.”
The door to the bedroom was partway open but Jungkook even didn’t look in that direction. His ears were slowly turning scarlet. He distracted himself with your statements. “What? Why?” He frowned. “I thought you threw ‘em away.”
You shrugged. “Seemed like a waste of money.”
He muttered under his breath. “Yeah. That’s what they are.” He looked a little ashamed. Shook his head, trying to convince himself. “Even more reason not to go in there and be tempted.” He began to step around your legs, shooing you away with a gruff, “Move.”
You didn’t move.
“You hate my bed that much even though you want to get in it?” you quipped.
Jungkook started. “That’s–”
You stood up abruptly.
It was so fast that he had no time to react. One moment you were sitting and the next you were standing right up to him with only a whisper of breath between your bodies, peering at his face. His hoodie fell off your shoulders and onto the cushions. His eyes widened, lips parting, and you witnessed him holding his breath as if that would somehow stop time.
Seconds that felt like hours ticked by.
You wondered how it would feel to be held by him.
“Fine,” you whispered, staring into his eyes. “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow.”
And you walked around, letting him breathe again.
-
Being awake was torturous due to constantly fighting invasive thoughts. Being asleep was worse due to remaining imprisoned in those intrusive thoughts blended with uncontrolled imagination, which was your presumed explanation for your insomniac nights. Yeah. And people wondered why you kept to yourself. Such was being human, so once again you gave into the insanity of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result because it could not be avoided.
Everyone had to sleep, after all.
And you woke up a few hours later, as predicted, wrenching yourself out of a dream you didn’t want to be in, trying your best to remember none of it. You were used to it. Routine of the night, so to speak. That made it more annoying than anxiety-inducing. You laid on your back in relative silence, staring into the darkness of the ceiling and running your fingers over your sheets. A folded portion of the duvet was trapped under your left side and you impatiently yanked it out from under you, forgetting the images of betrayal in the wake of another’s selfishness.
For tonight, anyway.
There was a loud snore on the other side of your bedroom door, offending your ears at this late hour. You sat up. You had been a little surprised at Jungkook accepting your offer. Then again, everything was happening because of split decisions and obvious desires. And some logic. Just not much. You hadn’t talked much after you handed him the extra pillow from your bed and a soft fuzzy blanket. There wasn’t much to talk about, not to mention both of you were trying to pretend as if this wasn’t happening. In movies and television shows, this would have gone in a whole different direction. In reality, it was a lot more awkward and untimely.
You glanced over to the nightstand that held his cigarettes and your lighter, barely making out the outlines of the items. Maybe his initial intention really was to come just to get them. Or maybe it was to put you in a compromising position or something like that. Neither of those things happened because neither of those things were who he was, only ideas of what he thought he could be, but he hadn’t thought any of it through, so now he was snoring up a storm on your sofa without a care in the world.
Unlike you, it seemed like his sleep was solace rather than a battleground.
You tapped a finger against the bed and then sighed, pulling yourself out from under the duvet to grab a large t-shirt to pull over your head. Headed to the bedroom door and opened it quietly, slipping out to the kitchen accompanied by Jungkook’s noisy and uncoordinated nose symphony. He was facing the inside of the sofa but, unfortunately for you and fortunately for him, had powerful lungs. There wasn’t much worry about rousing him. You opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, hoping the cool liquid could refresh you somehow.
You faced the sink and took a few sips.
Was friendship even the correct word for what you and Jeon Jungkook had? It was more closeness from coincidence rather than a direct seeking out of the other. Closeness that became closer before either of you realized it, slowly losing all the people in between until only you and him were left. Maybe that was why he had a sort of fixation on you since everyone had distanced themselves for various reasons, relationships, careers, adventures. Then again, fixation seemed to be his defining feature.
You almost snorted, and would have if he wasn’t sleeping on your couch.
But maybe not, as he had paradoxical, flighty tendencies too. Always influenced by someone or some media he consumed. You weren’t without your own flaws, you knew. Deep thought and constant existential crisis didn’t exactly make for good company. Sometimes it was better not to think so much, which was why you tried to fight your instinctive nature at times. You looked over to the mirrors on the living room walls, taking another drink. They were small, not very useful as a looking glass or for nitpicking an outfit before leaving. You had not been lying when you told Jungkook that you bought them to get over your hatred of them. There was a time when you hated seeing your reflection because the person in the mirror wasn’t matching up with the person in your head.
Irrational, yes.
Reality was irrational.
You rested your ass against the bottom cabinets of your kitchen and sipped from the water bottle. You knew you weren’t a good person since you had long given up aspiring for something great. Anyone worth anything aspired for something great. Not even failure was frowned upon the in the presence of a dream nowadays. You didn’t understand why Jungkook was snoring in your apartment right now, why he cared if you got home in one piece, why he was trying so hard to quit smoking for someone like you who lived in irreverence. South Korea valued productivity, beauty, and giving away one’s humanity for the cause. Not giving a fuck made you no better than the bottom of the barrel.
You couldn’t answer what he so heavily hinted at because it just didn’t make any sense.
Maybe he was just dumb.
Jungkook snored particularly loud and choked, throwing himself into a coughing fit.
You frowned and made your way over to him as he shrimped up and groaned, highly displeased and groggy from this turn of events. There was no obvious reaction to you approaching him. Either he didn’t hear you or didn’t register where he was.
You placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Nrgh…”
“You alright?” You kept your voice low, a level above a whisper. “Want some water?”
He said your name as if underwater. Muffled and out of it. You pulled your hand away as he turned over and sat up, squinting hard. “Uh?” He was still wearing his tank top which was now wrinkled around his waist. The top of his chest glistened with sweat. He probably usually slept shirtless and didn’t do so to be polite.
You held out the plastic bottle in your hand. “Water.”
He wasn’t thinking straight because he grabbed the bottle from you without objection, as if he wholeheartedly accepted you were the cold-water fairy of his dreams. He drank without so much of a thank you and with his lips right against the opening, crushing the latter half of what was left in only a few seconds.
“Uwah…!”
He dropped his hand, breathing out hard. You glanced at your empty hand. Comtemplated on giving him a reality check of what he just did but instead decided to let it go.
“Uh… Why are you awake?” he asked you blearily, becoming more awake by the second.
Some truths were better left unsaid for now. “Getting used to your snoring,” you mused, dropping your hand.
Jungkook seemed embarrassed. Looked from the water bottle to the coffee table behind your legs. The distance was too great for it to be casual. He clung onto it for emotional safety. “S-Sorry about that,” he mumbled, straightening his tank top and rubbing his neck.
“It’s probably a side effect of your smoking,” you commented.
He shot you an angry pout but there was no retort when you were right. “It’s probably my rhinitis,” he huffed. An uncomfortable, short silence.
Once again, both of you were reminded of a late-night call in the dead of night.
You held out your hand for the water bottle. After a moment, Jungkook handed it back. Apparently, it still hadn’t occurred to him why it was half-empty. He seemed more curious about you being awake. You wondered that too. You gestured to the pillow.
“It’s not comfortable, is it?”
He followed your gesture and half-heartedly shrugged. “I’ll be okay.” He shot you a look. “Worried about me?” His deep, sleepy voice sounded a lot cockier than he looked. He looked like a puppy that had just woken up after napping in a weird position. His black hair was sticking up every which way.
“I’m always worried about you,” you replied with a deadpan face.
His eyes widened.
You followed up with, “You’re an idiot.”
That pissed Jungkook off. He reached up to smack you and you caught his hand in the air. That woke him up. But honestly you were losing sleep and energy fast. It made you catch his fingers at an odd angle, almost a caress, and you were too tired to care, sighing before backing away, slowly letting go of his hand. His fingertips slid over the inside of your wrist. You turned your back to him.
You headed to the kitchen and tossed the bottle in the proper recycling bin.
He called your name.
“What?” you grumpily replied, straightening.
“You’re not wearing pants…” Jungkook reminded you.
You had to bend over to access the sorted trash. “Lucky you.”
His tone became gruff. “Don’t be so reckless in front of a guy.”
You half-turned and raised an eyebrow. He was still firmly seated on your sofa. “You act like I’m not standing in my kitchen next to my knives,” you pointed out, ticking your head in the direction of your knife block. “Also, are you implying that you’re a trashy guy?”
“I’m not a trashy guy,” he snapped angrily.
“Then what do I have to be worried about?” You took the steps towards your bedroom door.
“I just don’t like how you obviously have no interest in me,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, throwing himself down onto the sofa and turning his back to you.
You stopped in the doorway.
He was not provoking you. He sounded more like a kid that didn’t get his way rather than an adult trying to reverse psychology you. His words were not meant to change your mind. Yet, all of a sudden, you began to wonder what the fuck you were dancing in this limbo for. All because you didn’t want to be someone’s reason for anything? Well, congratulations, you failed. You failed your dream of a pointless existence. Woohoo. You rolled your eyes to the sky and turned around.
He was still pill-bug-positioned when you grabbed his shoulder and yanked him from the cease in the sofa, lowering your head to hiss, “Stop being a fucking brat.”
You expected him to tense up. His head jerked around and Jungkook stared at you. Wide-eyed, as if you had just pulled him out of a top hat by his ears. You glared, physically tired and tired of this shit, sliding your hand down his collarbone and cupping his chin, pulling him to better face you, tilting your head to narrow your eyes at him.
He sputtered. “W… What?”
“You heard me,” you answered in a clipped tone. “Get up.”
“Huh?”
You let go of his chin and slapped his upper arm. “Get up.”
In a tangle of long limbs and bewilderment, you yanked him up by his forearm, snatching the pillow from under him. Dragged him and his twisted blanket skirt into your bedroom. You hadn’t given him enough time to unravel himself. You let go of his forearm and slammed the pillow onto the empty right side of the bed, pointing rudely to the rumpled poof.
“Lay down,” you ordered.
Jungkook waved his hands, panic rising in his gravelly voice. “I can’t–”
“I don’t give a fuck,” you interrupted and marched behind him, shoving the small of his back. He got the hint after a short flailing about, shuffling towards the side of the bed before flopping onto the duvet like a caught tuna. He tried not to make eye contact, but you weren’t looking anyway, too busy crossing over to the other side and slinking under the duvet.
He squeaked out an, “Um…”
“Shut up,” was your automatic grumble. “Go to sleep.”
He answered in a small voice. “But… What if I snore…?”
“I know you’ll snore,” you grunted, reaching to him and pinning his shoulder down. He was above the duvet, half-wrapped in the blanket you had given him earlier. You had noticed he was still wearing his gray sweatpants so he wasn’t indecent. Not that it mattered. “I’ll get used to it.”
“I…”
You made a growling noise in warning, squinting at his face.
He gulped. “I just… Wanted to say thanks…”
You let go of him and turned your back, firmly closing your eyes. Jungkook was right there. You had a queen-sized bed. Big enough, but not so big that he could pull himself far away from you. You could feel his presence. It wasn’t a bad thing, though.
“You’re welcome,” you mumbled curtly and didn’t say any more.
-
When he opened the door, he looked disheveled and distractable, noisily chewing gum, jerking his head around your periphery as if he expected you to bring an entourage to shake him down. You stood at his doorstep, perturbed. His dark eyes flickered to you and nearly bulged out of his head.
“The hell are you wearing?” Jeon Jungkook blurted without any formal or informal greeting.
You thought you would be used to it by now. It was becoming kind of funny, in a way. “These are my work clothes,” you calmly explained. It was true that he hadn’t seen you in a nice silk blouse and fitted pencil skirt before. Dark teal and jet black, respectively. “I have a job I go to.”
This was the logical answer but it was not exactly the answer Jungkook wanted. You could tell by the knitting of his brows, his still open mouth, and the way he was just staring at your hips instead of continuing the conversation. His black hair was sticking up in the back. As usual, he was wearing casual clothes. A big, light gray t-shirt and charcoal sweats.
You raised your hand and shut his jaw so you didn’t have to view his half-chewed pink gum. “You’re going to the gym, aren’t you?”
It broke him out of his trance. He looked irritated, chewing again. More than that. He looked jittery. “Yeah.” He seemed to be having a mental debate. You wanted no part of that. “I was about to drink a protein shake while waiting for you.”
“Cool,” you said in an impassive tone that indicated you had no interest in protein shakes. You reached into your mid-size black leather bag and pulled out his black sweatpants, now clean and smelling of dryer sheet. “Here, then.” You lifted your head to hold them out.
Jungkook had abandoned his front door.
A muscle in your cheek twitched. His apartment was more modern, although about the same size as yours. Space was a luxury. The door was slowly closing without the aid of someone holding it. You smacked your palm against the light wood and pushed it open, your black heels clicking on the dark gray hardwood. Or was it vinyl? Hard to tell and you didn’t care to inspect. The walls were bright cool white. His big black backpack was on the floor of the short entrance hall. It was slightly open. Black boxing gloves with yellow accents and white towels were shoved in there. You expected him to be messy but all of his sneakers were lined up against the wall. Could use a shoe rack, though.
Jungkook reappeared, gum-less this time, carrying a shake tumbler with a vanilla-colored substance in it, clanging it about with one hand and trying to be chill. As chill as a nonchalant freak-out would be.
He coughed and asked, casually, “You go dressed like that to work?”
You weren’t sure why he gave a shit about what you were wearing. “Perks of an administrative desk job. Dress code.” You waved the rolled-up sweatpants in his direction. “Take these.”
He gave you a suspicious look as if you were the one to decide societal expectations for female office wear. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“The HR department,” you replied, deadpan. “I’d get fired if I showed up to work dressed like you.”
He nodded, agreeing but not convinced. “What if someone hits on you?”
“I set them on fire.”
Jungkook gawked at you.
You dropped your outstretched arm and clicked your tongue. “I don’t do anything. No one is allowed to date a co-worker and I’m not interested in any of them,” you explained. If only he knew that you sat alone in a cramped office and reviewed budgeting for university laboratories so no one was heedlessly using government funding. It was thrilling stuff. “Why do you care if someone hits on me?”
His eyes narrowed. “Of course, I care. I don’t want some asshole harassing you.” Before you could tell him to look in the mirror, he muttered, “Do you really think you won’t get hurt looking that hot?”
The real answer was that you didn’t care.
You tossed his sweatpants onto his backpack while saying, “Workplace harassment is very serious. I doubt my superiors want a scandal. You’re right. I’m considered attractive, so they want to keep me as a model employee and for gender equality points.”
“What about the train?” Jungkook pressed, stepping closer.
You almost rolled your eyes. “The subway is always shitty. Everybody knows that,” you said. “I’ve been taking the subway since high school. I’m pretty good at spotting psycho now.” You looked up at him with contained venom. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know that,” he snapped, placing his protein shake on the floor before confronting you again. “I just don’t like it.” He glared back.
You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like that I can take care of myself?”
“No,” Jungkook stubbornly repeated. Frustration crept into his features. “It makes me mad.”
One look at his face and it was obvious what he was implying. There was no reason to give in, though. “That sucks.” You patted the top of his chest condescendingly. “Maybe you need to see a therapist for that.”
He jerked his head towards the mound on his backpack. “Take the pants back and put them on.”
You wondered if he was being this way because he had paranoia or because he had nothing better to do. “No,” you refused. You crossed your arms. “Don’t be this way only for yourself. Plus, I just washed them.”
Like an ox, he didn’t relent. “Then I’ll get you a different pair.”
You noticed you didn’t smell the scent of smoke on him. Not strong or faint. It was obvious he didn’t smoke in his apartment, but he probably did at the roof of the complex or somewhere similar. You didn’t know him to be a heavy smoker, but it inevitably got onto his belongings. You tilted your head. There hadn’t been any smell that night a couple weeks ago when he slept over at your apartment where you had eventually forced him to snore on the bed.
You had woken up to Jungkook sprawled out, snoring into the pillow and one arm on your tits.
Explained your dream where you felt annoying pressure on your chest. That morning had been rather uneventful other than waking him up and kicking him out of your apartment. You had the decency to be more polite than that, but neither of you were in a state to talk about it. Neither of you seemed to be morning people. You simply told him you had work. He had mumbled he did too, and he had to race out to get ready in time. Only now had you found time to stop by his apartment to return his borrowed sweatpants. Maybe you had been avoiding it a little bit. Texts between you both were sparse. Asking for his address and asking if he’d be home. You peered into his dark eyes. Jungkook paused. He seemed to sense that you weren’t walling him anymore.
“When was the last time you smoked?” You made sure not to sound accusatory.
He started. “Uh…” He looked sheepish. “I’ve been trying to last a month at least…” He gestured behind him to what you assumed was the kitchen. You could see part of his living room from here but not much. His couch was cognac brown leather. “Been chewing gum and going to the gym a bunch to fight the cravings.” Frowned and sighed. “It’s hard,” Jungkook bitterly muttered. He glared. “Bet you’re loving this.”
Unluckily for him, you weren’t intimidated by puppy growls. You nodded, noncommittal, and looked down. His charcoal sweatpants looked soft. Worn in with wear. Your eyes flickered back up. His followed with slight confusion etching into his expression. You held his gaze until you felt his discomfort.
And then you made an impulsive, instinctive decision.
“I’ll agree to borrowing another pair of your pants,” you finally said. He looked relieved. “As long as I get to pick which pair.”
He seemed puzzled but shrugged. “Sure?”
You pressed for confirmation. “Agree or not?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook responded sharply. “What, you that desperate to raid my closet or something? Go ahead, then.” He waved a careless hand into the apartment.
But you stayed where you were. You stepped forward with a click of your heels. He stepped back in his house slippers, bewildered but still defiant, not yet realizing that you were not herding him further inside. He moved as if to let you lead the way, except you turned your body to block him, watching his every move.
His shoulder blades hit the wall.
Those big brown eyes blinked slowly. “Uh…”
You glanced down and then back up at his face.
Jungkook’s eyes tracked your movement. Didn’t get it. You repeated the dip of your chin and lashes, then back up. Dead silence. It slowly dawned onto him. You cocked your head, removing your crossed arms as his eyes became wider.
“W… What…?”
You didn’t let him hide his reaction, tracking every quiver of his lip and awkward chuckle. “They’re clean, aren’t they?” you asked as if it was the most sensible question in the world.
“Uh, well, yeah, b-but…” Jungkook stuttered, trying to decipher how serious you were or if he was even understanding the implications of your stare. “T-That’s…”
You backed up a step. “Then it’s a no?” you offered. “And you will stop trying to white knight my outfit choices?” You made yourself clear. “I won’t be changing them simply because you hate my clothes.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t hate your clothes. I like them. That is the problem,” he barked.
You gave him a blank look.
Jungkook sighed out of his nose before looking away and saying in a clipped tone, “Fine. I’ll change. Whatever.”
You moved before he could, blocking his way again.
He growled under his breath, glaring down. “What?”
You held aggressive eye contact. “We’re behind closed doors,” you reminded him. Gave him the pointed up-and-down. “Go on.”
Slight panic laced into his expression. “Uh… Are you serious?”
You already knew Jungkook wasn’t commenting on your fashion because he thought it was inappropriate. It was for the same innocuous reason that you were asking him for the charcoal sweatpants he was wearing right now. Well. Demanding.
“Deadly,” you answered him with a deadly smile.
He might be bigger and stronger than you, but he lacked the imposing audacity. You waited. He didn’t move. Ten full seconds passed. You had your answer, then. You gave him a curt nod and readjusted your grip on your work bag, about to turn away.
A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled you back.
You backtracked to stand in front of him again. His eyes darted about somewhat nervously. “I get it…” he mumbled, still holding onto your wrist. His other hand was drifting down. He seemed uncomfortable but not in a bad way, which struck you as odd. He lifted the hem of his shirt a bit. It caught on the front tie of the sweatpants. The tips of his ears were pink. Jungkook hooked a thumb under the waistband and averted his eyes.
You reached forward and pulled on the end of the looped strings.
He nearly yelped and jerked back, causing the tie to come unraveled. You had leaned over a little to get access. Lifted your gaze to look up at his shocked face. He was speechless. You didn’t straighten up yet. Just stared into his eyes. His lips parted but no words came out.
You smiled.
He uneasily let go of your wrist. You backed out of his personal space. Jungkook gave you a strange look and stripped off his pants with a swift tug downwards, bending a knee to kick them up and into his hand, immediately holding them in front of his body.
“Here.”
He thrust the balled-up sweats into your chest. You looked at it. Then at him. Then tried to crane your head downwards.
“H-Hey!”
He waved wildly. You stumbled. He tried to catch you without dropping anything. Your hand came up to press against his chest, causing him to back against the wall again, clutching his pants in front of his crotch. You paused and searched his expression as you pulled back your hand. He was in between conflicted and stunned. His legs were quite defined. At least he didn’t skip leg day. You decided to do it. Lowered your bag to the floor so you had use of your two hands. You reached behind you for the invisible zipper of your skirt and pulled it down. Jungkook seemed to be in a perpetual state of silence. You had to wiggle slightly to free yourself of the tube of black fabric, stepping out of it primly before standing back up, leaving you in your sheer black stockings and with your blouse barely skimming the tops of your thighs.
Now both of you were holding your bottoms. One of you was simply dumbstruck. The other folded and rolled up the skirt, tucking it into your elbow, and stepped up to him. Immediately, his free hand shot up, planting right above your left breast, dark tattoos stark against his tan skin from the overhead light.
“W-Whoa, wait…!”
You tilted your head and rested your hand on the sweatpants he was now desperately clutching to his lower body. You tugged. He did not let go. You raised an eyebrow and began to lower your head. His fingertips hooked under your chin and yanked you back up to his terrified expression of wild eyes and fish mouth. You remained emotionless, giving him nothing. His cheeks flushed pink.
“I… I just need a second–”
You closed more of the distance, placing a leg in between his slightly open ones. His grip on your chin tightened. It didn’t scare you in the slightest. In contrast, big bad Jungkook looked like he was about to sink into the floor. You stilled. Maybe this was too far.
You leaned back a little but didn’t remove your leg. “A second for what?”
He swallowed hard, averting his gaze again. “U-Uh, j-j-just a s-second to breathe… that’s all,” he muttered.
“What’s the issue?” you calmly inquired.
“N-Nothing,” and that sounded like a whole lot of something.
You shifted your leg and your stocking-covered shin rubbed against his calf. Jungkook made a very strange noise and hastily pulled his hand back. You did not stop the contact. You simply watched the emotions play across his features as he shut his eyes, wordlessly mouthing swears before clenching his jaw and sliding up the wall to delicately back up.
“You sure it’s nothing?” Twice as unassuming and immediately tipping him off that you were aware of his predicament.
His brows furrowed. “Shut up.” He took in several deep breaths.
You hummed. “Is it that big of a deal?”
“Yes, it is,” Jungkook hissed. He cracked open one eye. “Have you no sense of danger?”
You did your best not to smile. Failed, but only just. “Not with you.”
Relief and annoyance washed over him. “Shut up,” he said again and you were beginning to realize he did not really mean for you to shut up. “Ugh.” He thrust the charcoal ball of fabric into your chest. “Here. Put it on.”
“No longer embarrassed?” you asked, catching a glimpse of his partial erection.
Jungkook pointedly looked away from you and stared at his own front door. “I’m not embarrassed. Put the pants on, damnnit. I can’t look at you.”
“Sure, you can,” you quipped as you slipped on his sweatpants. “I’m sure you’ve checked me out at some point.”
He sucked in the side of his cheek sharply. “It’s not the same. And, besides…” He trailed off.
You smoothed out the front and tightened the strings. Jungkook reluctantly brought his gaze back to you, checking you out. You tugged your blouse out of the pants a bit to give the two disharmonious pieces more balance. You filled out the top of his pants a bit more because of your ass. The whole ensemble was a little odd, but only if one looked too closely.
He frowned. “Why do you look good?”
“It’s the heels,” you absentmindedly replied. “Besides, what?”
For a moment, you thought Jungkook wasn’t going to respond. But then his eyes raised, locking to yours determinedly. “If I can make it to a month, then…” He faltered before regaining his composure. “No, I will make it to a month. And all the rest. But when you see how serious I am, then… Then I want you to seriously consider me.”
Now it was your turn to avert your eyes. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Guilt settled as you realized that he was more intuitive than you gave him credit for. But you came back to him, eventually. His dark brown orbs lit up as you spoke.
“Sure.”
-
In a surprising turn of events, Jeon Jungkook actually greeted you with a breathless, “Hey,” for once when you answered his call, only to follow that up with, “The fuckin’ gym is closed, fuck.”
You blinked at your phone, put it on speaker, and tucked it into one of your upper kitchen cabinets to prop it up. It was not a video call. However, your hands were currently occupied. “I’m sorry,” you replied dryly, turning down the vent fan.
“Ugh, I really needed it today,” he grumbled, mostly at himself rather than at you. You heard the sounds of traffic and the white noise of wind. “And it’s cold tonight, hmph.”
You mentally calculated the day as you picked up the plate and tongs again. “Why was it closed? It’s not a holiday as far as I know.”
“I dunno. Note on the door said family emergency, so I guess I’ll find out later from the manager,” he said absentmindedly. It was a bit weird that Jungkook was treating this like small talk when he almost never called. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do or say about his predicament, so you began to place the slices of meat onto the hot pan, which immediately began loudly sizzling with popping oil. It must have picked up on the microphone. You heard a startled noise and then, “Whatchu doing?”
“Making dinner. And meal prepping at the same time, since I’m already cooking,” you replied, nudging the slices to fit all the meat in. Hm. Wouldn’t be the first time. Hm.
“What are you making?” He was sounding a bit too eager.
“Braised vegetables and pan-fried samgyeopsal,” you answered, reminding yourself to check under the lid. The bok choy and enoki mushrooms were just barely done. You quickly removed it from the heat before returning it the sizzling pork belly.
“Ugh.” He sounded jealous. “I’m jealous.” Guess he was. You found yourself smiling and quickly stopped, lightly adding a little flaky salt before starting the process of turning them over. You might die from a heart attack but not without a full belly of pork belly. “You’ve made me hungry. Maybe I’ll go get some ice cream.”
You mused. “Gym closed, so ice cream on a cool night is the solution?” The edges of pork belly were becoming that sweet golden caramel. Your kitchen was becoming decadently fragrant.
“This night is shit, anyway,” Jungkook complained. “I’d come over but you’d kick me out.”
You paused at his words. Then you busied yourself with taking the plate to the sink while raising your voice so he could hear you. “I didn’t kick you out last time.”
There was a short muteness that your both mutually agreed on before he sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll go home without the ice cream.”
You tutted. “I’m not the food police. Go get your ice cream if you want to.” You began to portion out the vegetables into the glass tupperware that you had already lined up.
“Nah,” he muttered. He really enjoyed this seesaw, huh. To be honest, you didn’t mind it. Maybe calling it fun too out of line, but. “I shouldn’t go into the convenience store, anyway. I don’t wanna break my streak.”
Only stubbornness could solidify self-restraint, it seemed. You checked the pork belly. It was done, so you turned off the fire and began to plate up your soon-to-be and future meals. Took less time because you had boiled the samgyeopsal first to keep the meat tender, removed it before it was completely cooked through, sliced it, and then pan-fried to completion. You plated the last of the vegetables, added the final helping of pork belly, and drizzled a bit of soybean paste on top. A small part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Jungkook. Rub it in, perhaps. You picked up your phone and opened the camera app.
“Hey.”
“Uh?”
You filled the photo space with a close-up shot of your simple meal and sent it to him. “Check your messages.”
There was a scuffle and Jungkook grunted before gasping and then bringing his phone back to his ear. “Hey, fuck you.”
You couldn’t help it. You laughed.
“Man… You suck.” He didn’t know the half of it. He was mumbling a tantrum on the street. “Ugh, now I’m so hungry... And mad. I’m mad at you.”
In between tee-hees and bites of your dinner, you placed your phone onto the counter. “If you buy me lunch, I’ll let you have one of mine,” you joked. Mmm, the meat was cooked just right. You mentally patted yourself on the back.
“No… I can’t do that,” he grumbled, taking your joke seriously. He scoffed. “Instead, I’ll bring a steak and make you cook it for me.”
“Steak?” You considered his suggestion. “Sure, I can cook steak.”
“Hah, see, you won’t – wait…” You heard a sputter and what sounded like a tumble. Or maybe the beginnings of one caught in the middle. He did have good reflexes. “O… Oh.” He sounded winded. “I thought you were… Thought you were gonna refuse.”
You nibbled on some delicious enoki mushroom. “Why?” You knew full well why. Just wanted to make him squirm. Also, him thinking you couldn’t cook a steak annoyed you. As if you didn’t know the value of medium rare. Hmph.
“A-Ah… Well.” He coughed and promptly changed the subject as embarrassed people do. “Are you eating right now?”
“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’s very tasty. I did a good job.”
You could him suck in an inhale of childish disappointment. “I’m suffering here.”
“No one is asking you to.”
“Hmmmm, I don’t like this.” And yet he stayed on the line. It sounded like he was jogging the streets. Maybe trying to arrive home faster and keep his body temperature up.
You imagined it. Then you told yourself to stop that. “Do you have something to eat at home?”
“There’s probably something,” Jungkook puffed. “Probably not as good, but I’ve got freezer stuff. I can cook, though,” he insisted.
You hadn’t questioned it. But you did now. “Hm, really?” You half-smiled in between bites of bok choy.
“Yes, really.” Very adamant. “Someday,” he added, in the tone of someday proving it.
You remembered the last time he was in your kitchen. The last time he was in your apartment. You looked down to the cropped black t-shirt and the familiar charcoal sweatpants you were wearing. The scene was set. Still, it didn’t clarify how to feel about it. Answers were usually simple. Believing them was a different story. He called your name. Without thinking, you answered right away.
“Mhm?”
“I’m home,” Jungkook grunted.
Maybe you supposed to pop confetti. You let it go and asked, “Less angry about your lack of gym time?”
“Not really.” But he did sound less stressed somehow. Maybe it was the cardio of the jog. “I guess I gotta find something to eat now. Lemme put you on speaker.”
The number of times he could have hung up increased. And yet he hadn’t done so yet. You were almost finished eating. You could have ended the call right now. Said you were busy and done your chores without further distraction. It just didn’t feel right. That said enough. Well, at the very least, you thought you should accompany him on his food adventure.
He exclaimed loudly. “Ah! I found some corn ice cream at the bottom of my freezer! Nice!”
Your palm made contact with your forehead. “I guess you must be the gods’ lucky one,” you mused, mopping up your last bite. Time to clear the kitchen. Sad.
“You know it,” he cheered.
You heard him ripping open the plastic with gusto. Would have sounded cocky if it wasn’t for his barely audible happy noises. You began to tidy up the kitchen to distract yourself. Putting away spices, collecting the various cooking utensils into the sink, wiping down counters, putting the lids on the now cooled-down meals. You stacked them in the fridge. You didn’t try to hide what you were doing but, then again, Jungkook was seemingly too mesmerized by his ice cream to speak. Amidst your domestic tasks, you saw the parallels of being in the same place in your respective apartments, both together and apart at the same time with only a thread of technology connecting each other, and you glanced at your phone screen, wondering if he had hung up on you. The call was still active.
Such a mundane existence.
And yet.
You stood by your sink, the washing up the last to do, and you abandoned it to stand by your phone. It seemed so… annoying to have simple enjoyments taken away by complicated thoughts. Maybe there was a better word for it. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that you were listening to Jungkook enjoying his small happiness of the day and wondered if he intentionally or unintentionally shared it with you. Wondered if the intention even mattered in the face of what was.
You broke the relative silence. “When do you want me to cook that steak for you?”
The faint sound of licking lips. He must have scooted closer to his phone, because the volume of his words was louder than the sounds from earlier. “Uh…” You waited. “I think my one month of no cigarettes is coming up soon. Maybe then…?” He trailed off awkwardly.
The crumpled pack was still on your nightstand next to your lighter. You hadn’t touched either. They were collectively collecting dust. You opened your mouth, reconsidered, and then said what was on your mind.
“I never hated you just because you smoked.”
Maybe it was better that you couldn’t see each other. “Yeah, but…” He let out a breath. “It was the reason why you didn’t want to be around me.”
You couldn’t deny it.
“I get it, though,” Jungkook muttered softly. “I didn’t really want to be around myself either. Maybe I haven’t had any great failures, but… That means I haven’t had a chance to grow from hardships. Coasting, sort of. I need to push myself to be better, because I’m definitely not where I’m supposed to be.”
Your eyes raised which caused you to realize you had dipped your head. You wondered who put those thoughts in his head, but the answer was all around you. In the subtext of conversation of strangers, friends, family.
“It’s weird,” he continued, maybe forgetting you could hear him slurp in between words or because his ice cream was rapidly melting. “I was talking to a friend about you and he asked me if you ever needed anything from me, ever.” He sucked in a breath. “Tch. I kinda hate that, but also it made me realize… Isn’t that the most natural I’ve ever been with anyone? No expectations… Maybe even negative.” He laughed a little, and you could imagine him shaking his head. “Is this how you want to spend your life? No. I want to be someone that you might need someday.”
You didn’t say anything about him talking about you to other people. It was slightly funny of him to think of you as an enigma when you felt that you were so simple, really. Maybe that made you the root of his complicated thoughts. Maybe not. He was right in that you did your best to not depend on others, even going out of you way to not need others. Not expecting anything from them to not be disappointed. You didn’t see that changing anytime soon, but, an exception?
All rules had them.
“I’m looking forward to making you that steak,” you chuckled. “I need to finish up the dishes, so I’ll let you go. For now.”
“A-Ah…” Jungkook cleared his throat. “Okay. S… See ya.”
You half-smiled. Even though he couldn’t see it, you were sure that he could hear it in your tone. “You will,” and you ended the call.
-
You found a small package addressed to you in your mailbox. No return address, no postage, but it had relatively neat handwriting that seemed familiar somehow. You tucked the soliciting letters under your arm as you re-locked your postage box. The packaging was brown paper. You turned it over in your hand.
For your collection. Jeon Jungkook.
You almost snorted. He could have. But he didn’t. You suddenly felt odd, so you quickly walked back to your apartment, shouldering your mail and your work bag, fitting the small package into your palm. The mail room was on the ground floor. You went up the flights of stairs to the far-left unit. Unlocked your front door and went in, using your shoulder to push it open.
You closed the door behind you before you opened the brown-paper wrapped parcel.
The outside packaging unfurled. Tissue paper and a bit of foam. Something told you he didn’t pack this. This was the work of the elderly who sold it to him. Smooth steel. But you felt something on the side against your palm. You turned the disc around. It was one of those snap-close clay art mirrors. The kind delicately handmade by a practiced artisan’s hands. You ran your finger over it, entranced by the ridges and matte texture. The focal point was the gradient of orange depicting tiger lilies. The background was black, making the small imagery stand out.
Tiger lilies, huh.
You opened the pocket mirror and saw your bewildered expression staring back at you. Your initial compulsion was to look away. Your intrusive thoughts interrupted, asking you if you really hated what you saw. You looked and your reflection looked back. You lifted the mirror slightly, inspecting your makeup. You barely wore any to just barely get away with it at work. It still looked good.
You half-smiled.
“You’re so fucking full of it, Jeon Jungkook,” you chuckled, tucking the mirror into the pocket of your work bag before going about the rest of your night.
-
He was quite excited for steak day until you made him speechless.
“U-uh, hey! Ahem. Hey. I have the steaks. You didn’t say if I should bring vegetables, so I also got cabbage, carrots, shitake mushrooms, I didn’t know, I guessed, sorry, and I can help cook if you need someone to watch the vegetables while, uh, I can chop or clean or anything at all… um, why are you dressed like t-that…?”
If it was his plan to greet cool, calm, and collected, he failed. You opened your apartment door to gum-chewing, wide-eyed, rambling Jeon Jungkook wearing a baggy but heavyweight white button-up and dark blue jeans with white contrast stitching. Black belt with a bright gold buckle. The hem of the jeans draped well over his black laced boots. His black leather jacket was jammed in the crook of his elbow with the groceries. His jacket had silver zippers, which didn’t match his belt. The button-up was done all the way up to his neck, which didn’t suit him.
You let him go on his rant and tried not to smile.
The situation was not exactly funny. It was obvious that he was out-of-sorts by the frantic way he was gnawing on his gum like his life depended on it. You had to wait for him to take a breath. He was too far gone in his speech for you to interrupt him. You almost dared to call it adorable. Didn’t because that wasn’t part of your image even though clearly Jungkook had completely broke the image he wanted to craft for himself over his entire time of knowing you. For his sake, you pretended nothing was amiss. You simply took the groceries from his hands while saying, “Change of plans.”
His jaw was slack. You could see the pink wad of gum stuck to his molars. Lovely. “E-Eh?”
You noticed his black hair looked a little messy and windswept. It was longer now, too, giving him an unintentional rockstar vibe. Thankfully his brain was too preoccupied with being unable to catch up to the moment to notice you noticing him. You backed up into your apartment to place the bags on your kitchen counter, busying yourself with putting everything into your refrigerator.
“I want to take you somewhere,” you said to the shelves of your fridge, clearing out space. Oh, wow. He really did buy high-grade steak. Two of them. And a giant head of cabbage. “I don’t like carrots,” you commented. “But I’ll make them for you and you can take home the rest.”
He sputtered with the elegance of a caught bluefin tuna. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t – T-Take me somewhere?”
In the middle of placing the last thing, the bundle of carrots, into the fridge, you said it.
“Yes. I want to take you on a date.”
To be honest, you weren’t sure if it would come out as confidently as you heard yourself, but there was no going back now. You had debated before this day had come, turning over the tiger lily pocket mirror in your hand at night. Debated if the unwillingness was worth it and decided it wasn’t. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was thinking the same thing you were, but then he showed up. Over-dressed. Vibrating with nervous energy. Talking too fast. One look at him and you knew. You could think you had all the time in the world, but it wasn’t true. You turned around to see Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression at the entrance of your apartment and you knew.
Despite never believing in anything and thinking everything was going to shit, well, you might as well go down with a feeling of a life well-lived.
“A d… date…?”
You closed the door of your refrigerator. “A date. You’ve heard of those, haven’t you?”
He looked like he hadn’t. “I… uh… Yes?” You had meant the light jab to bring Jungkook back to Earth but both of you were currently stuck on cloud nine. “Is that why you…?” His hand raised and made a vague gesture.
Your own hand raised to smooth back your hair from your bare shoulder. “Ah. Yes.” Since your closet was mostly made up of comfy, work, and concert outfits – in that order – that amount of classy date pieces were slightly nonexistent. You had one black dress made of a slinky soft ribbed texture that was what you ended up wearing. It reached the floor, which suited the night climate of this time of year. The rest of it was quite sexy, though. The fabric made the dress cling to and accentuate your curves. The straight neckline and thin straps were maybe too flattering. Jungkook’s eyes were certainly wandering to the general area of your collarbones. You usually wore this dress in a very specific way, which you intended to do so tonight, but it couldn’t hurt to let him admire.
Yeah.
Admire was definitely the word.
Just like how you were letting him admire you walking up to him, sending him into a mild panic, knowing exactly what you were doing but trying not to think about it, instead focusing on what had been bugging you ever since you had seen it. “This… I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you,” you muttered, unfastening the first few buttons of the shirt and shaking it out to a more relaxed collar. He smelled good. Oh, wow, he smelled very good. Bergamot and cedarwood, it seemed. “It looked too stuffy.” You noticed the thin gold chain underneath. Oh. Perhaps the unintentional mixing of gold and silver was intentional after all. You righted the chain so it was more visible, his warm skin under your cool fingertips, and maybe you were imagining it or was that a shiver between you and him at the contact?
Your hands awkwardly hovered over his chest.
It was hard to look up but you made yourself do it.
Jungkook seemed startled but at the very least thawed from the initial shock. “O-Oh, but…” Surely he was not staring at your cleavage. Surely. You might have put it right in his line of vision, but, surely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s c-cold outside. At least…”
It was certainly an exaggeration to call it slow-motion, and yet somehow that was the only way to describe it because now you were the one frozen in extended seconds as he tumbled his leather jacket into his palm, grabbing it by the collar and lifting it up, up and to his left hand, flaring it out with a loud flap before draping worn-in warmth over your shoulders. The sudden weight caused you to tilt forward lightly. Your open palms pressed against his chest to steady yourself. His hands stayed on your shoulders. Both of you were staring at each other for too long.
At least no one was here to record it.
He spoke first. ‘I, uh, I took a lot of my clothes to professional cleaners,” Jungkook said quietly. “Since… It gives me a good reason to not… It cost a lot.” His ears were probably as red as yours.
You inhaled, raising your chest, and noticed how new the leather smelled despite him owning it for a while now. Your faint smile was now inevitable. “I really appreciate it,” and you did. He didn’t have to, and he did.
The light in his eyes must have been your imagination. “R… Really?” Or maybe not. He was breathless and there was no obvious cause for it.
Never in wildest dreams and insomniac nights and daytime silence full of running thoughts could you have created this present time where you felt that you saw him and he saw you. From all the gray haze moments of the past to those bright uncertain days of small happiness in the future, you knew you could do it alone, but, for once, it seemed unbearable to do so.
You leaned up and kissed him.
Your eyes had closed as you tilted your head to close the distance. Maybe you should have considered seeing his surprise. Maybe you were too nervous to. It was only a simple press of lips-to-lips. Still, you found respite. A strange tingle shot through you as you felt Jungkook kiss you back. Somehow, you felt his relief of you taking charge of a moment that he had wanted to happen for a long time.
After a savored moment, both of you broke apart.
Afraid to overstep. Slightly shocked that that just happened. You snuck a peek. It was impossible to not call him adorable and thankfully you were too high off the moment to say anything. He caught your eye. You let him, gracing him a coy curve of your lips.
His cheeks bloomed pink. “Y-You… You wanna wear my jacket?”
You lightly shook your head, reaching up to touch the back of his hand. “You’ll be cold. I was going to wear a sweater over my dress,” you explained. His expression fell a little bit despite your logic. “But I wanted to wait to see what colors you were wearing so that I could choose something that pairs well. It would be nice to match somewhat, right?” Immediately Jungkook perked up again.
It was just a damn hot pot date. Why were you both grinning like idiots? The world never did make any sense, hmph.
-
In spite of best efforts, you dozed off on his shoulder.
Dinner had been a little bit awkward. Not so awkward it was unpleasant, but enough where you had to pull yourself together to bring him back to his usual self. You wore a fluffy, thick, cropped white sweater over your black dress, giving you some much needed warmth for the cool night and giving Jungkook back his sanity. Then you took it away by hooking your arm into his, holding onto him as you both rode the train in thoughtless silence. The hot pot restaurant had newly opened and was packed with curious customers. In a stroke of luck, the host managed to find seating due to your small party size. After a brief explanation, you made a beeline for the lineup of ingredients. It had taken a mountain of vegetables, shrimp, and fishcakes on a plate to break Jungkook out of his trance.
“W-Woah! You eat that much?”
You had tilted your head. “We’re sharing. Duh.”
A flash of annoyance. “How do you know what I like to eat?”
“What don’t you like to eat?” you countered.
Jungkook puffed a cheek. “That’s not the point!”
It wasn’t the most deep of conversations. Still, it did bring you both some peace to know that you hadn’t lost what you already had. There was always that fear and it was good to know that the fear was unfounded.
“I only want one egg.”
He spoke over you, “Too bad, you’re getting two,” using one hand to crack another to poach in your boiling bone broth. You made a face at him as you mixed minced onions and garlic into your chili oil, sesame oil, and soy sauce combination. He waved a third egg at you threateningly. You were adversely terrified. He became distracted by your concoction. “Let me try.”
“No. I’ll make you your own.”
“We’re sharing.”
“There are limits,” and you promptly walked off to do just that. For his credit, he didn’t snatch your hard work. Might have been because his food wasn’t finished cooking yet. Semantics. “It’s my treat, by the way.”
Irrtation was going to permanently furrow his brows if he wasn’t careful. “I don’t need your charity. Besides, you’re hurting my pride as a man.”
You cried for him. “Boo hoo.” Sarcastically.
“You’re not paying.”
“You wanna fight?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Kinda if you keep this up.”
You pretended to lift your sweater.
Jungkook almost threw himself over the two boiling pots of broth. “Gah! What do you think you’re doing?!” He tried not to yell, hissing low between his teeth. “You’re crazy!”
“Putting you in your place,” you answered dryly.
His expression was between flabbergasted and aghast. “D-Don’t do that!”
Not the deepest of conversations. You smiled. He noticed, and looked away quickly, his ears turning pink as he busied himself ordering plates of meat. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to cook the steaks like you had originally promised. It would have made a great first date, even. And yet. Yet, you didn’t want to, because for some reason following the original plan felt symbolic of something ending instead of a beginning. You were confident in your cooking, and still the possibility of even the slightest failure made it so that you couldn’t relax. Maybe it was selfish to drag out a promise. Nothing about Jungkook’s demeanor indicated he was against it, though.
“What?”
You blinked, realizing you had zoned out in his direction. “Nothing. Just…” He frowned. You almost wanted to ask him if he was disappointed by this turn of events. He was already shoving a plateful of thinly-sliced flat iron steak into his hot pot. “Just realized we’re only here now because of a cigarette and a lighter.”
His eyes cast downward. “I’m sor–” he began.
“Who knew a bad decision could turn into such a good one.”
Jungkook snapped his head back up, surprised. You gave him an impassive expression complete with a raised eyebrow. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. He tried to hide it. He wasn’t as good at it as you were.
“Yeah. I guess…”
He sounded a little too happy for that lukewarm response. You reached into your bag, pulling out a pocket mirror to needlessly check your makeup. He noticed the tiger lilies nestled in your palm and positively beamed. You did your best to wipe your stupid smile off your face and clipped it closed to resume the meal. The rest of the dinner was similar. Well, largely focused on how many plates of shabu-shabu meat both of you could consume to make the restaurant regret seating you. At the very least, Jungkook had been impressed with your gall.
Points gained there, heh.
So, now, in spite of best efforts, Jungkook leaned his head against yours and dozed off with you on your sofa, curled up under the same blanket he had used to sleep over some nights ago. Sleep came a little too easily with full bellies. He had asked if he could sit down for a bit before heading back to his place. Because, you know, it wasn’t good if he became drowsy while driving his motorcycle. You had shrugged, casually, turning on your television to whatever late-night show was on to provide some form of mild entertainment. Distraction, really, so neither of you felt pressure to talk.
Turned out, falling asleep told you more than any conversation.
It might have been the food. The comfort of the blanket. Someone familiar being there. Whatever the cause, the stars aligned and you knew what it meant. One instance of sleep arriving quickly did not mean that you would never have a restless night again. It did not mean everything was different. But it did mean that what was already there wasn’t a lie. You thought you had done enough to spite him, but best efforts were useless in a wake of loud, hard-headed, brash Jeon Jungkook. It shouldn’t work. You were reclusive, blunt, guarded. An unfathomable match, and yet you could never seem to shake him. Apparently his fondness for you was so strong that continued meetings were inevitable. The prospect of the next time had become a regular instance. Monotone days were suddenly saturated with unexpected melodies. You kept telling yourself there was nothing else better to do than to put up with his antics.
There had been no real reason for you to believe that he would change.
He just did so he could define his own ideal of worthy.
Unconsciously, Jungkook was sinking into the cease of the sofa, into dreamlessness, taking you down with him into the cushions. You dozed practically on top of him, unknowingly nestling into his waning embrace. If you had your wits about yourself, you might have given him more conspicuous space, but he was so warm that you forgot that you didn’t typically like physical touch. Or maybe you didn’t mind as much because you knew deep down that he liked it. It was a small sacrifice for his happiness. Something like that. Ah. Right. Anyway, eventually you awoke to no-context ruckus on the television screen. Annoyed, you pawed for the remote on the coffee table and blindly turned it off. You wouldn’t have even bothered to open your eyes except for the fact that you were clearly on top on Jungkook, oh, and so you blinked slowly, line of vision shifting, realizing he wasn’t asleep.
He was pretending to be.
You placed a hand on his chest. One of his eyes cracked open. You raised an eyebrow. He almost jumped out of his skin. Probably not expecting you to be staring at him.
“Were you watching?” you asked.
“N-Not really…” Discomfort laced into his expression. “Um… You’re on my left knee a little weird.”
You shifted quickly. “Sorry.”
Relief. “No, uh, I fucked it up a bit while boxing a couple days ago,” Jungkook sighed. You could feel his inhale through your hand on his chest that you still hadn’t removed. “Think I hit it at a weird angle.”
You pointed out the obvious. “You’re not supposed to use your legs in boxing.”
He sent you the gift of a classic eye-roll complete with the bow of a scowl. “I lost my balance and fell.”
You calm expression didn’t change as you added, “Bad knees are the first sign of aging.”
His dark eyes narrowed into slits. “You–”
And proceeded to grab you by the waist. You shot up instinctively, straddling his hips, and your hand on his chest slid up. His eye went wide. He froze. You froze, realizing what you were doing. His hands were loosely around your waist with his fingers flaring out over the top of your ass. You moved your hand, resting it on his shoulder. Not on the offensive but on edge. You did your best to hold his gaze while in the precarious position. He immediately apologized.
“S-Sorry.”
“No, ah…” You shook your head. “I’m sorry.” You shouldn’t have moved to choke him out just because he was horsing around yet it was hard to really know with men these days. Still, thinking of Jungkook in that way after everything he had done for you was unfair. “I’m too used to having to protect myself.”
There was a sea of regret in those dark brown orbs. “I wasn’t going to…” Hurt you, and that part was obvious. He frowned, realizing your reaction and words said what needed to be said without saying it. “I promise. I’m not like that.”
You stared into his eyes. “I know,” and you did.
His expression became determined. “No, really.” He frowned. “I can’t help–”
You cut him off. “Is that why you have a hard-on right now?”
Dead.
Silence.
The cushions of your sofa were old, causing your knees to sink in further due to the prolonged concentrated points of pressure. You looked down. He looked up. Nobody moved. You had thought about it. Maybe. Not in any deep sense so as to not set any unrealistic expectations. He had very clearly thought about it if the rising tent of your dress in between your legs was any indication. You weren’t able to fully sit down on his crotch due to space constraints, but, even with jeans on, the distance down there was dwindling.
In short, Jungkook was obviously packin’.
You raised your eyebrows. He grimaced. He was trying not to stare at your thighs spread over him or how easily your waist fit in his hands. “Listen… Uh.” Brave of him to break the silence. “I… I’m not a disgraceful kinda guy, okay? I wasn’t planning anything. And I’m seriously serious.” His voice deepened as his eyes darted about. “Serious about…” His gaze lifted, navigating to yours.
Your lips parted, understanding him perfectly well.
However, your dress was stretching too uncomfortably. Distracted, you broke eye contact, reaching down to yank the hem from under your knee while extending your other leg to the ground to maintain balance. The fabric bunched up to your hips, draping over his lower body. You felt the friction of his jeans against your bare inner thighs. Then, you felt the friction in his jeans pressing up in between your legs.
Well.
That would be the expected result, huh.
Jungkook was beside himself. “W-W-What are you do–”
You raised your head. He stiffened. Everywhere. He was still holding you by the waist. Time was moving too fast and too slow at the same time, much like whatever this was. You made eye contact, diving into those wide eyes, searching for something to be afraid of. The scariest thing about all this was how readily he matched up with your intent to cross all the lines.
“Do you wanna kiss me?” you asked him.
His voice quivered. More out of poorly contained excitement rather than anxiousness.
“Are you crazy? Of course I wanna fuckin’ kiss you.”
There was no good reason for care-about-nothing you and caring-too-much Jeon Jungkook should match up well, and yet perhaps that was precisely the reason these puzzle pieces fit together. He lifted his torso from the sofa far too easily, meeting you halfway. With one hand on the back of the sofa and the other on his chest, your lips brushed against his. Inhale, and his warm citrusy cologne mixed with his natural scent filled your lungs. He tilted his head, closing the distance. There was no pressure of a good first kiss as it was already over with. He pulled you closer.
A kiss was not particularly special, but everything about him was.
Terrifying.
As the saying went, you felt the fear and did it anyway.
Lips to lips, electric. Your fingertips gliding over his skin, spreading the button placket before descending, unraveling him like a flower, your tongue tracing the edge of his lips. His breath hitched. His hands on your waist tighter, turning, and you adjusted accordingly, letting him sit back against the sofa with you on his lap. His fingers slid under your sweater, fanning over your back like unraveling petals as you unbuttoned his shirt, drinking in his gasps. Sinking deeper. He tugged your sweater upwards and you released him for a moment to lift your arms, arching your spine, shedding the white onto the floor. His hands on the small of your back lifted you in return, and you arrived to the view of his own white shirt barely clinging onto his shoulders, revealing tan skin and his hard work at the gym.
Your eyes trailed upwards and Jungkook hesitantly smiled, uncertain of what you were thinking.
You dipped your head and licked up his chest.
“Whoa, wha–aah, f-fuck…”
Perhaps this was a strange thought but you felt this compulsion to taste his skin. You pushed his head back and crossed his neck with kisses. Teeth. Tongue. You felt his fingertips press into your back, his hips rise, a moan bubble up in his chest. He tried to speak between gasps, his hands sliding down to your ass as you licked up to his jaw, intoxicated by the taste of his skin.
“I didn’t r-realize… o-oh…”
You flicked his earrings with the tip of your tongue, dissipating your breath so it was whisper soft against his jaw. “Deep down, you knew there was more under this surface,” you murmured and as you said it you thought of black water but the reality was reflected all over the walls, in small snapshots of mirrors from older and modern times. Yes, a mirror was the more apt imagery. Your tongue coiled around his ear, whispering his name low and slow. “You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t think you were crazy…” Jungkook gasped. He pressed you down onto his lap, hiking your dress up further. An exhale drifted past your ear. “I didn’t say I didn’t l-like it…”
With a single finger, you turned his head to face you. Half-moon eyes hazy with lust. He ticked his head, putting on the bad boy front you always knew was a front, and you rocked your hips against his to create the rhythm. He sucked in a breath, your name on the tip of his tongue, and you placed your lips against his temple to ensure that he could feel every word as much as he could hear it.
“No matter who came before you, I hope you outmatch them all.”
He viewed you from his periphery.
You smiled in a dangerous way.
There was the briefest moment where he mirrored your smirk and then he lowered his head, catching you off guard with his lips against your pulse. By instinct, your fingers laced into his black hair, tilting your head to give him more access. Your eyes wandered among the walls. In smoked glass. In craved frames. From every angle, snapshots of Jungkook kissing down your neck and you pulling the straps of your dress aside, pressing his head downwards. His lips over your collarbones created an intricate network of pinpointed pleasure, blossoming, overlapping, your nerves singing. You hooked a finger down the center of the neckline, dragging it to a risqué level. His warm breath washed over your skin.
Anticipation on a knife’s edge.
You gazed down through the shadows of your lashes. He was watching you through his own. Wondering without words. So many times Jungkook had asked for a light to ignite his addiction. You saw the writing on the wall before he did.
You tugged the top of your dress downward.
“Fuck…”
You fanned your hands over your ribs pushing your bare breasts upward. Little did he know there was a shelf bra in the dress. Probably didn’t care. He clenched his jaw and frowned slightly, his cock throbbing from below. You could feel it because you were sitting on it.
“It’s annoying that you know how hot you are. Stop knowing how to act hot too.”
You wondered if he ever looked in a mirror. “That’s rich coming from a guy that works out to make his chest big.”
He pressed his lips together before grumbling, “So…?”
You lifted you body and put your tits right in front of his face. He tried to throw you off as his lips made contact, but then was immediately distracted with the taste, running his tongue over your nipple with a moan. Strong hands on your waist again. Your own hand slid down the crown of his head, sliding in between the collar of his shirt and his shoulder muscles, caressing them as you felt sparks from his light sucking. He kissed across your chest to access the other and you breathed out, electric and erotic, your nails turning inward.
His groan was gravelly, rough from pleasure.
“Ugh, fuck, scratch me.”
You dug your nails inward and he whined into your chest, sucking harder, flicking his tongue against your nipple. You moaned to the ceiling, arching your back, and now both of your hands were on his shoulders, creating a crisscross pattern of pink under his shirt collar. There was no rhyme or reason, only instinct. Jungkook growled, taking a swift moment to yank his arms out of his shirt before pawing at your hands to explore more, touch more, repaying you with divine lips and tongue. Either he liked pain or he loved pain. Hm. You had your opinions but you kept them to yourself.
You laced your fingers into his hair, arching your back. He extended his tongue and instead of him licking upwards, you curved your body downwards, only losing contact when it was physically impossible. You lowered your head slowly. Your tongue traced your lips. He was breathing in shallow, perfumed breaths tainted with your taste. Pupils dilated. Under the influence.
You stared into his dark eyes. “You can still stop.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right. I was in it before you were.”
He wasn’t wrong. Time moved too fast and too slow at the same time. You slid off his lap, gripping the side of your dress and pushing them down your hips. He rose, entranced, and you backed up, out of the way of the coffee table. In the room of mirrors – the living room – clothes began to slide to the floor one by one. Your tousling of his black hair had made it gone rogue, draping over his eyes as he tugged the back of his shirt out of his pants and let it fall. You took another step back while reaching forward, pulling apart his belt buckle. He glanced down as he was tugged forward. With one eye on you, he pulled the strap from the pin. You held the buckle. Pulled. He guided the black leather to smooth exit. For a few moments, you had him by the leash of his belt, dragging him into the bedroom.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
From the look on his face, he remembered.
You held onto the belt after it made its escape, twirling it around in your hand. Jungkook’s dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t.” You didn’t say anything and that was more alarming. “Do not even think about it,” he warned, his tone becoming lower, gruff. You smiled. You flicked your wrist and he halted.
You coiled the black leather around your thigh.
Tightened it by crossing the ends.
Oh, he was looking now.
“Don’t what?” you taunted, turning as you reached the end of the bed. Instead of lifting your knee to the edge of the mattress, you gripped the crossed straps of his belt and hoisted your leg upwards, adding a little bounce of your ass as you looked over your shoulder.
He didn’t expect the showmanship. His mouth squeaked out an, “Are you serious?”
Muscles, tattoos, and he still didn’t know what to do with all that. Your other hand grazed the curve of your ass to the hem of your seamless panties, hooking a finger over the edge and tugging it towards the center dip.
“Okay, fuck, you’re gonna make me bust in my damn jeans,” Jungkook muttered, looking annoyed at the tent in his pants. His hand was already undoing the button. You smiled, releasing your leg, walking over to the nightstand by the bed. The box of unused cigarettes was still there along with your lighter. You only glanced at them, dropping his belt to the side and opening the drawer, pulling out a string of condoms.
Turned around and Jungkook shot you a disbelieving look with his cock sticking out of his pants. Still in his boxer briefs, so obviously hard that he was past the open zipper. You didn’t back down, approaching him with his death sentence dangling from your fingers.
He tried not to seem flustered. “You’re busy, huh?”
You stopped in front of him, tilting in your head. “Busy waiting for you to make a move.”
He sucked the inside of his cheek. “Tch. Am I supposed to believe that?”
“You tell me.”
You sat down on the bed, placing the condoms within easy reach. Crossed your legs. Stared into his eyes, daring him to believe that you were lying. You saw bite his lip. Looking you up and down, so you did the same, watching him shove his jeans down further. You ticked your head.
“Or maybe just don’t fall for my tricks, hm?”
And you fell back onto the bed, lifting your legs, reaching under. Put your weight on your shoulders while you hooked your fingers onto the sides of your panties, pulling up, up, slipping one leg out. Then the other. Flicked your wrist and sent it flying. Then you spread your legs to reveal his stunned face.
You pulled a condom oof the line and held it out to him.
He looked uneasy, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them away. “Uh… You sure?” He tried to sound calm but his voice was shaking. He was trying to flip it on you.
You smiled. Casually. “I give you permission to find out.”
This did not ease Jungkook’s worries. He was too busy to staring at your pussy to formulate any more sentences, though. He took the condom from your hand, pushing down his black underwear. You looked. He saw you look. Confirmed that he didn’t work out because he was lacking in his pants, that was for sure. Your gaze went back to his face. He didn’t know what to think about your reaction, because you purposefully didn’t have one.
Instead of speaking, you reached down in between your legs and spread your wet lips.
Lowering your lashes. Slow smirk. Jungkook sucked in a breath and ripped open the condom. His underwear was sliding down his legs, but you were too busy being fixated on the way his arms moved, carefully rolling down the condom as he watched your fingertips trace your slit, drawing circles around your clit. The heat turned into wetness. He moved closer. You curled a leg around his hip. He put a hand on your thigh, positioning himself over you. Made eye contact. You looked back curiously, spreading the upper lips of your slick pussy.
He slid the bottom of the slick head against your clit and made you both moan from the contact.
Rubbed, slowly. Your insides throbbed with need. The lubrication made it even better. You pulled your hand back and tipped your hips upwards, and then he slid in. He gasped, his inhale catching in his throat. The hand on your leg tensed. You pressed your calf into his ass, pushing him deeper.
“F-Fuck, what–”
Your expression must have indicated that you were going to shove him in yourself, because Jungkook took one panicked glance at your face and thrust in, loudly swearing. He shut his eyes but you caught a peek of them rolling upwards as you dreamily sighed from the feeling of fullness, squeezing all around to feel more, the pressure becoming pleasure.
“You can move.” Just in case he wasn’t sure.
“Shut up,” Jungkook snapped back, shifting his hand to grab your thigh, yanking you into his crotch. He cut off his own moan by clenching his jaw. You smiled. Sweetly. He glared as viciously as he could, which wasn’t much, and thrust hard enough to make you both gasp. He was resisting from commenting about your tightness. “Stop smirking at me like that.”
You tested fate.
“Make me.”
The light was playing tricks. Or maybe his hair was casting shadows over his darkened gaze. Or perhaps this was possession of passion that made him lean down. Locked gazes. He covered your mouth with his free hand. You let him, waiting to see where this would go. He began to move. Slow, deep, building the heat between your joined bodies. Staring into your eyes, and you stared back, clenching your core to increase the unfurling bliss, so damn good, watching his lashes lower, his lips parting, heated breath drifting out like invisible smoke. You raised your hips to meet him, moaning into his palm. He bit the edge of his lower lip, the tiny mole centered underneath suddenly visible.
Your tongue traced his fingers, dripping saliva.
He spread them, entranced by the way you thrust your wet muscle in time with his hips, coiling towards the small finger tattoos you knew he had. Jungkook swore under his breath, gripping your thigh harder, but he wasn’t reaching the force you both craved. With reluctance, he removed his hand from your open mouth, watching the charming curl of your tongue disappearing in between your lips before gripping your other hip with his wet hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.
You reached back and grabbed fistfuls of your duvet, bracing yourself with an open-mouthed smirk.
He thrust hard and you rose to meet him. Both of you cried out at the radiating smack of force between bodies. Nothing for show. Just pure raw lust, chasing the high, giving into the lust. Heat into tension. Your back arched. He pulled you to him. You squeezed him all around. With each loud slap you felt pleasure ripple through your body, making your breasts bounce to his rhythm, and you let out a soft moan, sensing the ripple turning into a cascade, your insides tightening, closing your eyes once the vicious throb overtook your hips, drowning in orgasm.
“Oh, fuck–”
Jungkook didn’t even get to choke out his surprise before his own orgasm hit him. You felt his fingers dig in, snapping your bodies together. His drawn-out groan became the sonata to the punctuated sensation of inescapable euphoria. Wet. Hot. You gasped at a jolt of ecstasy rattling in your ribs. You felt his cock jerk inside you as his hold on you lessened, switching to kneading your thighs. Your brain was so hazy that his touch seemed to amplify the addictive heat, your legs closing in, keeping him in place.
“Could’ve… fuckin’ warned me…”
He panted hard, squeezing your ass roughly. You didn’t care. It was hard to when his slip to his Busan dialect was so attractive. You reveled in the bliss for a moment longer before lowering your legs, realizing the source of the heat was Jungkook whose body seemed to be ten thousand degrees. He pushed back his hair, revealing his glistening brow and cheekbones. Gasping for breath. He pulled out before stripping off the condom with a hiss.
“What am I supposed to do with–”
You sat up, using your elbows to lift your body. It was harder than you thought because the aftermath of tension had left a residual tremble throughout your nerves, but you ignored it, living on determination alone. Jungkook started, not expecting you to move so quickly. You didn’t give him time to react, reaching down between your bodies.
“A-Ah, don’t…!”
He stuttered, gasped, then moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. Slippery. Hot. Covered in lube and cum and now your fingers wrapping around his length, finding him half-hard. You gave him almost no pressure but all contact, glossing over the shaft until his cock swelled in your hand, ghosting over the head with your palm. He bit back a yelp, not yet opening his eyes, almost whining. His reaction drove you, sliding forward a bit to the very edge of the mattress. He held his breath. Snuck a peek. You angled your body to expose more of your inner thigh and lifted him.
His eyes widened.
You sandwiched his cock in between your palm and your inner thigh, sliding your body back and forth to stimulate him. He inhaled sharply, shooting you a look of indignation, and yet his hips began moving anyway. You gradually increased the pressure. His head tipped back, groaning to the ceiling, becoming harder and harder with each stroke.
You reached over to the condoms and held them out.
Jungkook lowered his head. “Seriously?”
You lifted your hand from his pulsing, wet cock. “Saying you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that,” he retorted.
You pulled one off. He handed you the used condom. There was maybe a second and then he gave back the empty foil wrapper in which you tucked the used one into, folding it carefully so there was no spillage. It wouldn’t take long, anyway.
Part of you wanted to say that, but you held your tongue.
Hands on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs. Jungkook pinned your knees to your chest and slid back in, lowly growling, “How the fuck are you so tight,” but you were too enveloped in the sensations, wet and hard and your inner muscles closing in, molding to the shaft. The swollen head hit that depth you could really feel, and you sighed, lifting your hips. His hands slid off your legs and hit the bed, sandwiching you in between the bed and his hard chest.
Your eyes locked with Jungkook’s.
It was intense, rough, carnal. You forgot your surroundings, clutching the duvet and his tattooed forearm, matching each slap of your bodies with a breathless gasp, your calves on his shoulders, his erratic breath melting into shuddering moans. You were moving up the bed little by little from the force. Your name slipped from his lips. Your pussy clenched involuntarily and then the rapid thunderous pulse overtook your senses. He lasted a little longer this time after your orgasm, but not much longer, succumbing to the vicious call, burying his entire length inside you and gritting his teeth to muffle his moan in his chest.
It should have ended there.
You could barely breathe. Suffocating from your own thighs. After an erotic, elated eternity, Jungkook lifted his upper body, gasping apologies. You could barely hear them, orgasm still ringing in your ears, having to relax your muscles one by one. The bed was a mess. Duvet bunched up. Condom wrappers garnishing the ground. Clothes all over the floor. Your legs crossed, sliding down. Jungkook was standing somehow and you could tell that even he thought that was a miracle. He offered a hand. You took it, letting him shakily pull you up to your feet.
His breath washed over your cheek.
You looked up at him. His dark orbs shifted towards you. Waning. You tilted your head. Half-moons. Lips to lips. You drank in his exhale, kissing him deeply. Still electrified. Hands all over, igniting fire over skin. His lower body bumped up against your thigh. Slippery hardness pressing into softness. The scent of sex clung between you and him. You reached down. Touching him. Stroking his cock with your fingertips while kissing him. You felt his hand snake between your legs, sliding two fingers into you. One by one, your fingers closed in. He stroked your clit before thrusting his fingers back in, swallowing your moan into his throat. You began to slide your hand up and down. The combination of lube and cum delivered that delicious friction that he was looking for. At this point, the fervor was so intense that the pace was fierce, fast, a contest of who could get each other off faster while in lip-lock.
You shoved your tongue into his mouth.
Jungkook sucked on it, pushing a third finger into your soaked pussy, all the way up to his knuckles. You welcomed it, working his entire length, jacking him off tight and harsh, and all of a sudden he let go if your tongue, gasping with a pinched moan, his hips jerking forward. Hot spurts of milky white shot down your inner thigh. Not much, but definitely enough to witness and feel. Something inside you snapped and you had to grab his shoulder to avoid falling over, your nails digging in a halo as your pussy spasmed, sucking in his fingers with a wet squelch, your legs snapping closed to extend the feeling. Breathless moan against his ear. You leaned against him with your juices leaking down your legs and sticking to his fingers.
Delicious.
Satisfyingly ragged. Blood pumping. Both of your bodies burning, or at least yours was and his chest was alarmingly sweaty. You slowly untangled your hands from each other but they lingered low, suddenly realizing how much needed to be cleaned up.
“Uh…” Jungkook panted. “I’ll help…”
He better. “Yeah. We should, hah, clean up.” Your tongue traced your lips. “Then sleep.”
“I didn’t bring clothes,” he mumbled distractedly.
You lifted yourself from his shoulder. “I still have your sweatpants,” you reminded him.
His dark eyes slid towards you. He tried to frown. His eyes were too eager and sparkly for that. “Oh. Yeah…”
“You can go home if you want,” you offered while naked and with his cum sticking to your thigh.
He sucked on the inside of his cheek sharply. “You can’t say sleep over and then take it back.”
“Then take it in the first place.”
“I was gonna,” Jungkook snapped, and grabbed your arm, pulling you in for another kiss.
-
“Did you mean it?”
The room was relatively clean now. The trash was appropriately in the trash. The clothes had been lumped into an ambiguous pile on your dresser. Teeth had been brushed. You had set aside a spare toothbrush for his use only. Seemed appropriate. He was not wearing his sweatpants. Turned out that was not his preferred way to sleep. It wasn’t yours either. He was only in his boxer briefs and you were only in your panties. Your bodies were now minus each other’s bodily fluids.
“Mean what?”
You tried to yank the duvet into a more acceptable orientation before climbing in. After a pause, Jungkook lifted the other side and tried his best to settle in.
“That you were waiting for me to make a move.”
Tried his best because he seemed to be distracted by the conversation. You adjusted your pillow and nestled in a section of the duvet that was not that close but not too far away either. It was a king-sized one for a queen bed. Plenty of sharable coverage. You didn’t interfere with his routine and he didn’t with yours. You took the time to think.
“Hm.” It wasn’t wholly true after all. “I didn’t know if you were going to make a move or not.” He snorted under his breath but you ignored it to finish speaking. “After the first time you stayed over… It was more that I figured being prepared was better than not being prepared.”
“That’s…” He sounded uneasy.
“I can’t live hoping for something that might or might not happen,” you said without facing him.
He seemed annoyed. “Why not?”
You pointed out the obvious. “I don’t think you should change your life only to appeal to me. You should do it for yourself.”
“Well, I did,” Jungkook grumbled. He cocooned himself in a good chunk of your duvet. That was the tell of a blanket stealer. You would have to keep an eye on him. “I quit for you. It was always you. It’s happened already, so accept it.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
He grunted. “Just like how I shouldn’t have started smoking in the first place. Guess that’s the kind of shitty guy I am.”
Silence.
He wasn’t facing you. You were looking up at the ceiling. Closed your eyes because there weren’t any promises up there. The promises were always next to you. He seemed cold, but you knew better. He didn’t know how to be a cold person. He tried his best and it was a constant failure.
“Aren’t you happy you broke that people-pleasing of yours?” you asked softly.
There was a short, reluctant pause before he muttered, “You’re a butt.”
You burst out laughing. Big, muscly, tattooed man curled up in bed with you retorting with a child’s insult was too funny. Jungkook growled, rolling over to shake your shoulder with contained fury. You kept laughing even when he gave up and took the pillow out from under him, repeatedly bopping your torso and legs with it. There was no strength behind it. Plenty of salt, though. You opened your eyes mid-snicker and looked over to him. His arm was extended over to you. His black hair was all over the place. He shook his head like a Doberman and scrunched up his face. Frowning. On the verge of a pout, really. He could have looked madder. He would never make it as an actor. Your laughter died out.
“You were gonna totally back off if I didn’t have condoms?” you teased.
He looked exasperated. “Seriously? I’m not some untrained dog who hasn’t eaten in days! You… There’s plenty of other choices we have! I’m a good guy!”
You smiled. “I know.”
He immediately stopped protesting. It was as if all the fight drained out of him. There was a whole universe in those big dark brown eyes. And then it occurred to you that, back then, Jungkook could never quite meet your eyes even though he was always looking your way. Every day came with a dark night. He would ask you, got a light, and you would hold up the flame, shining light into those dark eyes when he used to lean in.
It was strange, then, to see the light that was there when now his eyes locked with yours.
No lighter required.
“You really tried to pass off as a bad guy. Almost fooled me, even.”
His eyes narrowed into slits. “Ugh, fuck you.”
“You did,” you quipped.
Jungkook flung the pillow behind him and scooted alarmingly close. You instinctively tried to move out of the way but there was no more bed to escape to. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and dragged you back to him, threatening you with, “Shut up. I’m hugging you.”
You failed to listen. Classic. “I didn’t ask to be hugged.”
There was a foreign tingling feeling that raced all over your skin. Not from the physical closeness, but from the other kind of closeness. You felt your shoulder bump against his firm chest. He even threw his leg over your hip and yanked your legs closer, cocooning you with his frame. You almost thought he was trying to extend the night.
Instead, he simply latched onto you like a barnacle.
“I don’t care. I’m a bad guy. Hmph.”
Quiet.
You placed your hand on his forearm just under your breasts. This was going to become very hot and sweaty in the long run. But you let it be. You didn’t want to let go either, even though you weren’t exactly doing the holding on. You used your other hand to drag the duvet back up under your chin. He didn’t stop you. You felt him squeeze you a little tighter once you were comfortable, as if to confirm. You patted his arm.
“Your hand is too hot,” he complained in a mumble by your ear.
“That sucks,” you said and didn’t move it. He didn’t try to shrug you off either. “I’ll make your steak tomorrow.”
He pretended to gnaw on your shoulder. “We can’t have steak for breakfast.”
“Why not? We’re adults.”
“That isn’t what adults do.”
“Then I give up on being an adult.”
“Me too,” he huffed. He perched his chin by your head. “Alright, I’m down.”
You debated on telling him. Telling him why you purchased the lighter in the first place. Even before him, it constantly stayed in your pocket. It only came out on the darkest nights when the insomnia was the worst. A flame and a human life followed the same trajectory. At night was when the flame danced the brightest. You would watch the flame dance. Contemplated. Extinguished it. You even did your due diligence of refilling it when it was low. When Jeon Jungkook appeared in your life, you ignited the flame for him without much thought. That was, after all, the intended use the lighter. It made sense to use it as such. You found yourself reaching for it less because, well, what if you ran into him? He would always ask and you would always provide. When he had handed you his barely-used pack and said he was done, you too gradually began to leave the lighter behind. The two objects had begun to collect dust night after night. Untouched. Originally your lighter wasn’t for him, and yet.
That small flame had led him to you.
The universe planned well.
“Hey, Jungkook?”
“Uuh?” He sounded very sleepy and not quite conscious.
“My lighter was for you, after all.”
“Mmmm…” He nestled closer and squeezed your arm. “That’s good.”
You smiled as he drifted off to sleep. He still snored, although less intensely. His grip on you relaxed but was no less meaningful. Slowly, the exhaustion caught up to you, and you went willingly, following Jeon Jungkook’s path to dreams. You would have to get used to this new routine of the night.
Hi dee!! Im in a bit of a reading drought lately I feel like I read every good fic on here, my favourite manhwa is on a hiatus and I cannot fucking figure out ao3 all I see is about ot7 and hybrids but I’m a chill guy I’m not into alphas or harems (no judging whatsoever I my self might look into that in the near future heh😼) Do you have any recommendations on ao3/wattpad? It can be on here too I dont mind but I’ve probably read it lol. Maybe awrkive nation also has recommendations??
I mostly read for jk and tae yoongi as well but I’m open to whatever if the writing is good!!
Ps I already follow your rec account so yup
hiii!!! i feel you smmm i also feel like ive already read all the good fics here 😭 unfortunately i dont read on wattpad, and its been really really long since i visited ao3 for a fic and tbh i havent been reading a lot of fanfictions at all im so sorry </3 whats on my rec page are all my current reads </3
but off the top of my head i can list u these fics that ive read on ao3 like yearssss ago (these fics are old as hell im sorry if ur looking for more recent ones as i said i gen havent been reading a lot of ffs at all on any platform) 😭
arranged (hobi x freader) by obiwrites - idk if i have ever mentioned it here but miss obi is my favorite fanfic writer of all time easily top 3 best bts x reader writer OF ALL TIME AND SHES NOT TOP 2ND OR 3RD!!!!!!!!!!!!! hall of famer in everybody's hearts i dont make the rules and arranged is her best fic and best bts x reader fanfic of all time its true u ask every army and ther mamas that existed from 2018 to 2020 out there thats gonna be their answer. unfortunately she has privated almost all of her works now and u can only access some if u have an ao3 acc but arranged is still up there!
bound (yoongi x freader) by obiwrites - this is an unfinished fic but i cant not mention it 😭😭😭 the tddup series (this and arranged) is my roman empire and it completely changed my brain chemistry this is not a joke. series stopped updating in 2021 and i still check it time to time like girl move on
crimson park (jk x freader) by heartbeatan - soo so freaking good. the plot twist made me put my phone down. so so well written and saur sexy ): i think about this jungkook and this oc all the time they are so yummers you would wish you were their third ):
devil's garden (tae x freader) by heartbeatan - its another unfinished fic im so sorry but its kind of like in the same universe as the fic above but its so good i didnt mind even if it was not completed ):
toys series by heartbeatan - series ft. ot7 but not poly. each part is with a member x (diff) fem reader (is it getting obvious that im a big fan of heartbeatan)
the lowlander (jk x oc) by foxymoxy - it deals with a lot of heavy themes so make sure to proceed with utmost caution. but trust me when i say it is very well written. the whole worldbuilding ate so bad miss foxy is a genius. also the rest of her stuff is really good so make sure to check them out as well!
growing pains (jk x freader) by univsa - honestly u should check out all of her works!!!!! such a talented writer but this fic in particular nearly put me on sewercide watch it was so angsty
the devil skates on thin ice (yoongi x freader) by seokeros - miss ivory was on tumblr before but im not sure if she still has her works here and if uve come across them but her stuff is still on ao3 if ur interested in checking it out
a ticket to the sun (yoongi xfreader) by seokeros - highly highly recommended!!! i cried ):
until you make it (joon x freader) by versigny - so freaking cute i nearly died. the writer also has a huuuge bts masterlist so make sure to check them out!
the wedding arrangement (joon x freader) by sugalights - u need to have an ao3 acc to access their works first of all. but yeh this fic quite literally changed my life
im sorry for the lack of tae fics in this but i gen dont rmr any tae fics i read on ao3, only on tumblr 😭 if ur not familiar with @/prolixitae on tumblr, she wrote my most fave tae fic ever which is called "fate of the fast and furious" and make sure to check out the drabbles and extras about the couple as well!!!
these are just some of my favorites that i can still remember.. sorry if the list is saur short hope u enjoy reading them nonetheless!! (im sure u will... these writers are some of the best to ever do it <<<3)
also if some of u guys have more recs from ao3 feel free to drop them on the reply section!!!!!
just finished in one sitting and yas kimi has done it again another smau gem she just never disappoints actually 🤓☝🏼☝🏼 i always am soo so fascinated by smau writers bcs literally. H-O-W ?!?!?! if u told me to attempt to write a whole ass social media fic i would rather retake my differential calculus class 😍 i could not begin to imagine how much Work that gets put into how u can manage to convey the characters' feelings in a text-setting like this COS worldbuilding is already so difficult in written fics but somehow she manages to pull it off effortlessly on a smau?? witchcraft i must say!! the transitions to text and written formats was also so seamless u honestly could not decide which u prefer more bcs it doesnt matter when its so good either way!!
i loveeeeee dumb jk with himbo vibes ☹️ nothing in that cute brain of his except Fornication with the love of his life (affectionately!) most fave part is the banters (one that i think kimi is Thee Expert of),, so quick witted, entertaining, and funny!!! i love everybody in this and special mention to the perilla leaf chapter bcs that felt REAL #tome honestly just an overall pleasant fun and enjoyable experience jyst like the rest of whats on her mlist 😭😭
KIMI 🔛🔝 mahal kita so much bff !! you do what u do best!!
glimpse: the good thing about professing your feelings to jungkook is that it'd be over with, whether or not he likes you back — the bad thing is that he rejects you, even if you haven't confessed.
alternatively, crushing on jungkook who's in your friend group is, has, and will never be a good idea.
[ push n pull fic YIPPPEEEEE, fluff, angst, So Much Yearning, friends to lovers trope, jealousy, dunking on a stewpid jk (as one does), arguments that kinda hit home, redemption!! ]
notes: WE R SO BACK!!!! thank u for waiting 🫂🤍
as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!
You will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want to be loved.
In your defense (much to Jungkook’s offence), you want to be loved as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. He’s not pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but rather pathetic in the light that you want the entirety of him (stubbornness and occasional dimness included) to rub off on you.
You want to be loved pathetically in the same way that Jungkook never computes his expenses when it comes to self-indulgence yet always calculates when it comes to actual requirements. You want to be loved as wholly by the guy who can get by one DIY dorm dinner at a time by asking for scraps from the whole floor with a grin and his hands cupped in begging.
Jungkook’s one of your friends, if not the best you’ve ever had, and it’s a miracle that you haven’t jumped at each and every available chance to confess your growing feelings for him.
You bit your tongue that one time he bought you "one of those silly blind boxes you like" on a whim from a bookstore he only went inside to in the first place because he was dying outside in the heat, only to open it for you with your eyes closed and earn you an extra rare figure.
You had to physically restrain yourself (read: clasp your hands together in front of you) when Jungkook made you swap your counterfeit, barely-holding-on kitten heels for his trustworthy slides on the way home because your research presentation prior had you pacing nervously.
Every time that he gives you your tax of whatever he ordered (which always ends up being the best variant that your friend group could possibly order for a meal or a sweet treat), you have to etch into your head clearly, with ballpoint pen, that you will never tell Jungkook how desperately you want him to love you.
Every time that he gives you a one-on-one friend outing, just as he does with everyone else from your circle of ten people and counting (you lost count because you figure that all of you are about to outgrow the long table in the library that nobody else could fill), you convince yourself to never tell him how much you want it to be just you.
You figure that you’ll tell Jungkook that you do hold a candle for him, despite not detailing the extent, in this lifetime— maybe even the next time you get a moment alone with him, but you figure you won’t do it now; now, when he’s berating you for just a tiny sacrifice you made that’s minuscule for everything he does for you and everyone else.
“You’re impossible!” he huffs, his annoyance for you being loud enough to stop his faux display of studying and gather attention from everyone else in the library who actually is. Jungkook holds up his phone for you to read, brows scrunched at your look of amusement. “Jimin told me you were lactose intolerant!”
You can’t figure how and why Jungkook and Jimin’s conversation even flitted towards you when you recall clearly that the lactose-filled meal in question was from two weeks ago. You don’t question it because you already know that even giving it a second thought would already be too pompous of you, and you don’t question either why Jungkook looks too devastated at the realization.
“I just tolerated it,” you snort, burying your nose back into your notes, missing the flash of regret in Jungkook’s features.
He doesn’t know whether he’d feel more sorry over the fact that he didn’t know you were lactose intolerant, or that you didn’t speak up at all to preserve his excitement over eating at the restaurant he wanted to try out.
“But why would you?” he sulks, completely foregoing the textbook he has opened on the same page for the last hour.
You know exactly why you did, but you’d rather not tell Jungkook now.
You’ll tell him some other time, that much you’re sure of, but not now — not now when he’s too devastated over your tummy issues, and not now when he’s just one revelation away from chewing you out over something he has to learn from someone else.
“Your broke ass bought it so I had to,” you murmur, rolling your eyes as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand.
“Foul,” Jungkook immediately chuckles, shaking his head at your retort even if he knows you’re just kidding around (he knows you won’t hurt him like that that), finally opening his laptop.
Jungkook, your friend, finally types on his laptop, yet it’s not for the contribution that he badly needs to put in for a group project.
Instead, he opens up the Google Doc and writes in a bullet point underneath your name, the words do not give cheese acquainted with three exclamation points — along with your name, is the names of your mutual friends and Jungkook’s observations that would come in handy for an outing, a gift, or both.
Jungkook’s that good of a friend, and that’s why you’ll never tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him.
( ♡ )
Getting gifts for someone who has a credit card and has no inhibitions when it comes to buying whatever they want is a difficult task.
Getting Jungkook for Secret Santa this year is even harder than the last, and that was when Jin snuck five strips of his name and left more than five of you (you don’t even know how that happened) without gifts, all while he was laughing to himself after he successfully gaslit everyone into thinking that they were all drunk and made the mistake themselves.
You don’t know what to give Jungkook that he doesn’t already have. He doesn’t have a girlfriend the last time you checked and while you can’t exactly wrap yourself in ugly, recycled kraft paper (as opposed to Jimin’s dumb, all-knowing-about-your-hidden-feelings suggestion), you’d rather not drive Jungkook away, even if you don’t know either how to drive him in.
You don’t have the slightest clue to what his ‘surprise me ;)’ scribble underneath his name means and it makes you feel guilty, far more than he ever could have after Jimin’s revelation of your dietary restrictions.
It’s not the dilemma of who would sit next to who in the large albeit crowded dining table in the cabin that you rented out, nor is it the cooking and wrapping duties that each of you are tasked with that stresses you out this holiday season.
You wish so badly that the largest champagne problem you have at the moment was wondering if your Christmas gift for your nitpicky mom and nonchalant dad back at home arrived in time. You pray that your biggest hurdle is either convincing Namjoon that his room is just cold and not haunted, or breaking off a fight between Eunwoo and Soomin because they keep fighting over whose overpriced film camera will be used for the picture by the tree, or even talking Mingyu down from smacking Jin in his sleep.
The largest champagne problem that you have, even if it’s actually between life and living said life in peace without minding your inevitable heartbreak, is worrying about Jungkook’s gift.
You hold your breath as soon as Hoseok gathers everyone into the living room, your nerves probably getting the best of you because you hear Jungkook hollering to whoever’s closest to the thermostat to adjust it because your teeth kept chattering.
You have nothing to be nervous about, you convince yourself as Jungkook steps up into the middle and awaits with wide arms, your best friend being another victim of assuming that the comically large wrapped present is his (it’s not).
Jungkook doesn’t have any expectations for you to meet, you convince yourself as he becomes even more hyper when he learns that it’s you, so much so that he takes a lap around the backyard with his hands clapping furiously.
You can’t love Jungkook any more than you do now, you realize as you see Jungkook throw his head back in glee when he opens up your gift.
It’s only a Himalayan salt lamp. It’s only a lamp that you didn’t buy for so much. It’s only a thing that Jungkook said to you in passing one time, yet he’s beyond grateful — enough for him to carry you in his arms and take another lap around the backyard.
“God, you love me soooo bad,” he lulls, teasing you mercilessly as he unceremoniously drops you so he could adore the lamp up close. “I always wanted to lick one!”
“You’re so stupid,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at his excitement over something so simple; something so insignificant in the world of thoughtful, expensive gifts.
You affectionately think that Jungkook’s stupid, yet you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
“I didn’t hear a no,” Jungkook hums with his tongue out, eyes wide and flickering between you and the lamp. “Should I do it? Should I? I’m doing-…!”
You put a spoonful of cake into his mouth instead, the whine that escapes his throat still sounding like gratefulness to your ears.
Tonight’s not the night wherein you tell Jungkook how badly you want to be loved by him — not when he’s so preoccupied with his new salt lamp that he keeps daring people to take a lick of, not when he’s the one who’s being convinced that there’s a ghost in Namjoon's room and being bullied into sleeping in.
Not when Jungkook’s being the perfect, lovable friend that he is during the holidays and every other day.
( ♡ )
You’re well-aware that Jungkook’s a catch.
You know that he’s a catch and he’ll never live it down, and neither can you.
You’re very painfully aware that Jungkook’s a catch because you’re reminded of it every single day whenever you’re with your friends. You know that atleast two of them were integrated into the group in the first place because they liked Jungkook, and that doesn’t really bother you (more than it should, atleast) anymore.
Sora’s crush formed out of boredom on Jungkook disappeared as soon as she got a boyfriend, but you understand why her gaze lingered on him in the first place.
Eunji’s crush on Jungkook already dissipated the moment she learned about his GPA, but you get why she had been attracted to his charm anyway.
You know that he’s a catch and that he’s not solely yours either, and the latter makes you humble.
“There’s flowers on your desk again,” you point out, the arrangement irking you for more reasons than one. “Why do you have to be so popular and handsome.. and lovable,” you mumble, the tail end of your mini rant barely being heard by Jungkook because he's too busy admiring his gift.
“What’s that now?” Jin piped up, eyebrows furrowed upon picking up your angry muttering. He's beyond confused, maybe just as much as you are, when you just snarl at him for his unintentional use of supersonic hearing.
“And why do I have to sit next to you even if I have allergies,” you redirect your attention to Jungkook who has to sweep the flowers to a beaten-up paper bag for safekeeping, the item in his backpack being the most used object for all of the admiration towards him.
“Because you’re the best-est friend ever,” he rolls his eyes, the faux pout on his lips surprisingly softening you instead of the opposite. “And maybe I’m the worst-est one to keep putting you through this.”
“You sound so stupid,” you reply automatically, crossing your arms and keeping them there. “But you’re right,” you exhale through your nose, conceding your defeat over willingly letting him put you through this, carrying the blame by yourself.
Jungkook doesn’t only act like this with you anyway. There’s no special treatment, there’s no false hopes being promised — it’s just you genuinely happening to fall for him.
“Come on, just tolerate it! Pinch your nose or something!”
“Why should I? Find another seatmate,” you sulk, making a point to angle your back away from him and towards Jin who’s at your right, doing his best at holding in a laugh over how ridiculous the both of you look.
“Obviously you’re the one with the latest phone so you have to take pictures of me with the flowers!” Jungkook whines, punctuating his sentence with a hand on his hip. He’s sulking because you’re sulking, and you’ve never hated him more at the moment. “Why else would I force you to sit with me?”
Jungkook’s stupid, and so are you, so you’d rather not tell him how desperately you want to be loved by him today.
( ♡ )
In all fairness, you thought you would lose nothing.
You thought you would lose nothing because in the first place, you barely expected anything out of Jungkook. Liking him didn’t mean that you were indebted to him, and liking you back isn’t something that he owed to you either.
You weren’t expecting Jungkook to fall on his knees and say something stupid to hint at his mutual love for you (although you did think about it a couple of times), but you atleast expected a little bit of respect from him to try and see the strength it took you to even confess.
You planned it perfectly, even taking a page off his book and making a whole word document for it wherein you spent days typing whatever crossed your mind throughout the day and erasing what seemed the most impossible throughout the night.
In your word document, you and Jungkook would be out in the snow, skating in an outdoor rink even if neither of you know how to. You figure that you won’t attempt to drag (read: hobble with) him to the middle of the ice because in case he doesn’t like you back, the waddle back to the exit wouldn’t be as awkward; if Jungkook does like you back, you’ll still be hobbling to the exit, albeit happily.
In your word document, there’s a spine of a script that you would say when the day comes. You’ll skim along the lines of how you’ve never been so enamored with someone in your entire life (with the internal note that you’ll dial it back a bit if his expression turns sour), of how bright he makes your days for you, and how he doesn’t have to be obligated to like you back.
In your word document, you’re set. You’ve planned a foolproof blueprint of what would turn out, whether or not Jungkook is set on loving you the way you desperately want to be —
Except now, Jungkook completely undoes everything you’ve ever worked for.
Now, he looks at you with a glint in his eye that looks more apologetic than it is endearing. You don’t even know what led to your heartbreak exactly because one minute, you were just studying, and by the next, Jungkook’s already letting you down even if you hadn’t had the chance to rise.
You swear on your life that you weren’t giving any signals at all that you were actually about to confess. You were only silent, refusing to talk to him because you were too stressed over your task and that you were scared you would burst into tears if you tried mouthing the formula out loud, yet Jungkook mistakes it for your love.
Whatever you do on a daily basis, whatever you do based on your nature, Jungkook mistakes it for a confession that he wasn’t even supposed to hear until the end of the week.
He wasn’t wrong about the fact that you love him — what he’s wrong about is his assumption that your silence around him when it’s just the two of you, right now while you lose your mind over an assignment as you’re dressed in last week’s sweater and last semester’s horror, is your confession.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook winces, gently patting you on the shoulder as you’re yet to digest his rejection. “But I just don’t think we’ll work out.”
( ♡ )
You theorized that getting over Jungkook would be fairly easy on the chance that he rejects you after your confession.
You figure that Jungkook himself as a concept would be drastically difficult to move on from because he was just so lovable. He doesn’t know how to read a room and it’s one of his better quirks when you’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know much about knowing when to let up, and it comes in clutch when he’s pushing you to wholeheartedly do an assignment even if you’re already burnt out from crying.
Jungkook, as a concept, is indestructible. He’s the everyday variant of the goodness that some frat guys possess occasionally. He’s the realistic, attainable version of a main lead in a manhwa that’s only perfect 1/4 into the plot.
He’s the manifestation of every good deed a stranger has done for you, except he’s someone you know with your heart and not just someone you could sketch from memory.
With that, you also figured that moving on from Jungkook can’t be that hard because he was too out of reach despite being in the same friend group as you. Surely, it wouldn’t be so catastrophically hard to move on from a guy who just gasps for air every five minutes when he’s in charge of cooking in the BBQ hangout (instead of using the exhaust like a normal person), or from a guy who thinks citing references for a paper is only a suggestion.
The funny thing about it all is that you never actually confessed to Jungkook.
Actually (and contrary to the assumptions of the other friends you have from your circle), you’ve never said it to his face that you do have a crush on him. You’re ultimately known to be the friendliest person to ever walk the campus, and while not the most confrontational, they atleast expected for you to confess to Jungkook in your own way.
What actually happened was that Jungkook read through you — he does happen to be right about your feelings for him! He’s the second friendliest person right beneath you, and so the way he rejected you should never sting this much.
Jungkook thought it out meticulously. He read into the way you spent extra attention listening to him with your eyes practically gleaming. He read into the way you’d lag back behind him and hold him by his wrist whenever you were all crossing the street. Hell, he even read into the way you would take a shot at opening the extremely tight water bottle from the vending machine before everyone else.
The funny, tragic thing about it is that whilst Jungkook wasn’t wrong about pinpointing your feelings for him — you never confessed.
Jeon Jungkook, the second, ultimate friendliest man that your university has ever known, rejected you without even hearing the actual words from you.
He’s turned his back on you even before you could reach him, and the realization sinks in you unsettlingly. You never expected for him to like you back because it would be unfair of you, and you knew that; what just happened to hurt you most was that Jungkook didn’t even think twice.
He hadn’t given you the chance to pour your heart out at the very least.
He hadn’t even given you the space to breathe right after the rejection, because he skips and puts a smile on before winking, telling you that he’ll never speak of it again because you must probably be embarrassed.
The funniest thing about it all is that you aren’t embarrassed — you’re actually devastated about it.
It’s an odd event for Jungkook to feel lonely because with such a big friend group, he never thought he’d feel a little empty despite literally rubbing elbows in a circular table. He never thought he’d come to be a little annoyed at Jimin and his routine, playful, borderline offensive banter he’d always have with you at the top of the morning, and he never thought he’d even be more annoyed over the absence of it.
There’s one less laugh in the circle. One less bag strewn underneath the table, one less coffee order written on the notes app, and one less person to look for when hanging out.
You’re missing from the friend group, and oddly enough, Jungkook seems to be the most devastated about it.
“Why is Y/N not here?” he asks in the middle of Jin retelling his drunken fishing story, grabbing the attention of everyone in the table and maybe just about everyone else’s in the common area with the way his voice is frantic. “And why is she there with the new kid instead?”
Everyone flits through separate conversations after Jungkook’s interruption, some even wincing to themselves because although they know about your admiration for the guy and not your confession-that-wasn’t-one, they figure that nothing good could come out of Jungkook sucker-punching the new kid in his head.
“I don’t know, man. Buddy system, maybe?” Jin shrugs, stealing his food because it was obvious that Jungkook’s attention is everywhere but himself and the table.
Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms tightly to the point that even he feels a little suffocated. His entire face is crumpled with hurt, eyebrows furrowed out of frustration when you still aren’t looking at him; when you’re still not looking at him with confusion in your eyes, silently telling him off for glaring.
“Buddy system? We’re in uni. Who the fuck would bully that guy?”
“By the looks of it, probably you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffs, refusing to unclench his fists on his thighs.
“Well, what’s it to you that Y/N’s hanging out with someone new? What are you so heated for?” Jin elaborates, eyes flitting to you again.
Jungkook could only glare at you.
“What are you so nosy for?” he asks defensively, leaning back on his chair in a faux display of relaxation when all he wants to do is to remove the stupid smile on the guy’s face as he watches you talk.
Unlike Jungkook, Yoongi’s not stupid at all — in fact, he’s been vigilantly aware of Jungkook’s glare on the side of his face ever since you sat in front of him.
Yoongi’s not stupid, so he angles himself in a way that Jungkook gets to see him more. He doesn’t know the guy personally, but he does know of him and his “charm” that seems to make everyone go nuts for him.
If looks could kill, then Yoongi would’ve already had mourners at his feet, but if provocation could posion, then Jungkook would already be frothing at the mouth.
The thing is, Yoongi doesn’t even know about your admiration nor your foiled confession to Jungkook. The latter hasn’t even done anything personally to him.
All he knows is that you’re in a big friend group and that you chose to sit with him, your friend whom you share a couple of advanced classes with but not a friend-friend like Jungkook is, and that you’re very easy on the eyes and admirable yourself if he thinks about it (he doesn’t need much time to ponder over it) — and, that he doesn’t really like being glared at.
“No really, I insist!” he laughs, pulling out his handwritten reviewer from a backpack with a grin. “I don’t know anybody else who likes making reviewers anymore by hand, so really, you’re just perfect to get them.”
“But you worked so hard on them,” you gasp, eyes already widening in both surprise and awe at the thick stack of papers in front of you. Yoongi’s handwriting and formatting are perfect; there’s no unnecessary calligraphy, the vividness of the highlighter is just right, and there’s even sticky notes at the bottom for additional details and references you could cross-check. “I.. I don’t want you to feel that I’m taking advantage-…”
“But I offered! You didn’t ask for reviewers from me shamelessly like every other opportunist does,” Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back as he slides the papers closer to you. “I’d be a really shitty senior not to give you any help. If anything, I think you deserve even better than-…”
Jungkook can’t resist.
Jungkook can’t take any more of watching you and Yoongi push and pull over whatever topic he can’t hear nor force Jin to eavesdrop on. He can’t take another second of seeing you be so happy talking to a guy that he doesn’t know, so much so that he comes up to you without a second thought.
“Hey,” he greets, his body only turned to you, completely ignoring Yoongi and blocking him off from your sight. “You didn’t order any coffee.”
You angle your body slightly to excuse yourself, except Jungkook conveniently happens to mirror your every move, confusing you even more. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling like it,” you trail, looking up at him in confusion while Yoongi could see right through him.
“Really?” Jungkook replies, the smile on his face being far from amused, eyes narrowed as he tries to catch up with the own annoyance that he harbors. “Because I’m seeing two coffees right now, and one’s in front of you, so…” he trails, shrugging his shoulders exaggeratedly.
Jungkook’s jaw is still clenched, along with his fists by his sides. He’s standing tall between you and Yoongi with his shoulders squared and his face steeled, the immovable forces that are him and the unnamed pit in his stomach starting to garner attention.
Namjoon has his phone out.
Hoseok only has one cheek remaining on the seat because he’s ready to stand up and collect bets.
You’re still sitting, mostly confused, when you realize the attention that’s starting to build towards the three of you.
“Yes, Jungkook. Great observation,” you snicker, the discreet roll of your eyes making him take offense.
“Oh okay, I see. So you were lying by saying that you weren’t feeling it, and I don’t get the hold-up of you-…”
“What did you come here for now, Jungkook?” you angrily whisper, keeping your head down as you retain your gaze on him and lightly tap at the table to indicate to Yoongi for the both of you to move. “It’s a little far-fetched for you to come all over here to pick a fight about coffee.”
Jungkook huffs, turning his head back to Yoongi behind him because he most definitely saw your signal. The lazy, amused gaze of Yoongi is what sets him off even further, the anger in his eyes unmistakable, except you recognize it for only what it is and not jealousy, because Jungkook doesn’t see you like that.
Or atleast that’s what the both of you assume.
Jungkook, your best friend, scoffs loudly.
“You sound so defensive right now.”
( ♡ )
You don’t respond much to Jungkook’s calls.
As a matter of fact, you don’t respond much to Jungkook at all.
You don’t show up whenever he’s present, meaning that you’re only magically available whenever there’s half of your friend group at the most because if there’s more, then the search for the missing members would ensue, then you’d end up squished in a long table next to Jungkook again.
It’s very much like him to form grudges, yet he can’t even tell if he’s capable of having one towards you. Jungkook, with all his chest and afflictions, wants so badly to hate you because you’ve been blowing him off ever since he literally and physically came between you and Yoongi.
He apologized to you for that (and not to Yoongi because he didn’t really matter to him at all), and he doesn’t know the answer for it yet because his messages still remain unread. He’s enlisted the help of your mutual friends on various occasions by trying to get them to give all his little treats for you, yet you refuse them as soon as you catch wind that it’s from Jungkook.
He even tried studying for real in the library in hopes that reverse psychology (he thinks that’s what it’s called) would work and that thinking he doesn’t want you to come would make you do the opposite, yet it still doesn’t work. Jungkook’s already mad that he studied for nothing (he’s more interested in getting you to notice him than to actually learn), but he becomes even more heated to realize that your anger for him is just directed at him alone.
You still talk to your best friends, with the exception of him, and Jungkook has never been more envious of people who are apparently of the same status as him.
Jungkook wants you to drag him like you drag Sora to the nail salon and have you whisper at his ear to tell the nail tech not to cut your cuticles because you’ve been afraid of getting them done since that 1/34th part of a medical drama episode you watched on your phone.
Jungkook wants you to complain to him like you complain to Namjoon when you’re frustrated with a professor whom you’re convinced is only critical to you and no one else, later making him promise not to tell anyone else from your friend group because they like said professor.
Jungkook wants you to run to him as you always did, just because you feel like it. He wants to sit in silence with you again and put his hand on your knee when you’re in the verge of tears just looking at your schedule for the week.
He wants to stand guard again outside the bathroom door of the expensive coffee shop because it’s either the lock is broken or because Namjoon's managed to instill in you the existence of ghosts in cold spots.
He wants to be the Jungkook like you’ve always known, again, because it seems like you’ve forgotten him completely. You have the Yoongi now, it seems like — the smarter, more composed, and more charismatic variant of him that he wants to get rid of because Jungkook never predicted the existence of him.
Even more, Jungkook didn’t even entertain the concept of him being replaced because it was always the two of you together, even in a sea of friends.
He’s your best friend, your confidant even, but nothing more — all Jungkook feels is that he’s even less than the status the both of you are assigned to be.
He’s angry and sad and disappointed all at the same time because he thought he had almost lost you since he rejected your confession. You were fine; you were as fine as you could be for someone rejected when it comes to yearning to be his, and yet the moment you let Yoongi in, Jungkook feels as if you threw everything the both of you had just for him.
“Just so you know, student-teacher relationships are illegal,” he corners you one morning in your dorm, two godforsaken weeks after chasing you around the campus yet turning up empty.
“What the fuck are you on about?” you immediately scrunch your nose at him, the accusation he throws at you being too farfetched to the point that you don’t even think of shutting the door at him, ignoring Eunji’s betrayal for you by pretending to come over.
“What am I on about?” Jungkook exasperates, the scoff that leaves him making you feel small in front of him. “You’re literally the one who’s getting chummy with fucking Yoongi of all people!"
"Yoongi's a teaching assistant! He's our senior! Do you not know that?"
"Do I look like I'm interested in any other people outside of our circle?" he retorts, lips turned up in a snarl. Jungkook provokes you with a sarcastic glare, the look on his face enough to make you throw your head back in irritation.
"Come on, even Jin and Jimin are friends with Yoongi and-..."
"This is not about them!"
"But you just-..." you stop as soon Jungkook interrupts you, losing your gaze on him for a single second to close your door and when you look back, you find that he’s already comfortable being vindictive on your bed, his arms crossed and his back straight.
"Also, teacher and teaching assistant both have the word teach so it's literally still illegal," he narrows his eyes sarcastically, the tone to his voice unclear despite his words suggesting otherwise. "You look so stupid right now."
"Jungkook can you stop?!" you burst, your temples stinging at the back and forth that Jungkook’s thrown the both of you in. “What the hell is going on with you?"
Jungkook had sworn to himself up and down that he has so much stuff to pick with you. He knows he has so much baggage to unpack and how much shit he has to bring up, even if it’s only been two weeks with you. He’s partly relieved that you’re in front of him and you still haven’t fled, yet a large part of him is beyond frustrated with you because you don’t even look like as if your time apart has taken a toll on you.
Between the two of you, it’s only Jungkook who looks like his distraught has manned him completely beyond surrender. Even coming to see you by hatching a plan with a hesitant friend is something he considers an act beyond surrender — whatever the space is between surrender and demand is where Jungkook lies with you.
"No, what's going on with you!” he argues, standing to his feet to come face-to-face with you. “You can't just spin this around when I've done nothing but be a good friend to you!"
"You think I'm not being a good friend to you just because I don't spend every single minute attached to you? I can still hang out outside of our friend group without being-..."
"This is not about our friend group!" Jungkook emphasizes once again, the tell-tale sting of tears behind his eyes coming up because he feels as if you can’t hear him no matter how much he repeats himself. ”This is about us and how you abandoned me ever since I rejected you!"
"I didn't abandon you, Jungkook!" you spit, pushing at his chest lightly with your finger to get him to back up from your face yet he refuses to. He’s still insistent at staring you down with his jaw clenched, eyes wide and unblinking because he knows that if he moves even just a millimeter askew, he’d cry. “You didn't even give me the chance to confess to you! You rejected me without even hearing me out. Do you think I would still be able to talk to you, face to face like how you want so badly, as if nothing happened?"
"The answer would've been the same even if you confessed,” he grits with his chest heavy, not at the way he keeps holding his breath in order not to break down in front of you, but because you look at him with so much disdain that it makes him want to puke.
"Do you not think I know that?" you laugh humorlessly, gnawing on your bottom lip as you don’t drop his gaze. “Do you think I didn't prepare for that possibility? I knew what could've happened if I confessed and I'd still be okay with it, Jungkook!" you raise your voice, throat already giving out at the slightest pressure because you know you lost the fight ever since you let him in. ”What I'm not okay with is that you didn't even give me the chance.”
It’s evil, really, with the way no amount of self-pity could ever pull you from the grave you’ve dug up. You went for Jungkook, carrying all grief you knew you were bound to feel, and yet you still feel unprepared. You still feel unworthy even moping for someone like Jungkook because not even his rejection, nor anyone else’s acceptance of your admiration by some sort of miracle, is enough to make you feel like you’d be missed.
Your two weeks without Jungkook is your rehearsal for the two months, then two years, then two forevers eventually without him by your side. You had still been able to live by yourself and with your friends, excluding him, and you thought you were fine because it feels as if nothing had changed.
You thought you were fine until Jungkook gets in your face to tell you that it’s not, and all over again, you’re reminded of how desperately you want to be loved by him to the point that you’d rather drown in your own pity to try and preserve whatever’s left of you.
"I told you the answer would-..."
"Shut up!" you cry, steeling your nerves when you realize that Jungkook’s angrily crying in front of you, wiping at his eyes hastily. ”For the love of god, shut up!"
Jungkook stays quiet, not because you told him to, but because nothing good comes to mind when he realizes that you’re crying because of him.
"See? You don't even get where I'm coming from because you're not even giving me the chance to explain myself without making it all about you,” you sob, finally pushing him away, to which he lets you. "That's the problem with you, Jungkook. You're too self-involved."
"Not true," Jungkook whispers, shaking his head earnestly even if he feels the stupidest he has ever did in his life in front of you.
He follows your steps out of routine even if his brain had convinced his system that he hates you just seconds ago, arms instinctively trying to crowd you when you almost trip on the flooring on your way to the coat rack.
"Since you keep insisting that I abandoned you," you chuckle dryly before grabbing your jacket, turning your back on Jungkook and on your own space, which had just been the default hangout place of the both of you for the longest time, in pursuit of your own quiet without him. "Let me follow through."
Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you how desperately he wants you to want him again, to love him as you already did, and neither do you.
( ♡ )
The perks of having a big friend group of that the absence of several members wouldn’t make that much of a difference when it comes to hanging out. It would still sustain itself without a few extra voices joining in on the chatter watching movies and the bullying when it comes to a forgotten birthday greeting here and there.
The downside of being in one, is that said big friend group doesn’t matter at all to Jungkook when you’re not in it.
The lengths that your friend (read: a word that Jungkook’s come to abhor) has went through since your fight at your dorm are basically incomprehensible because he’s fully involved himself.
He’s pining after you pathetically, just like how you had always dreamed of, yet seeing him take turn after turn just trying to gain your forgiveness for something you’ve always pitied yourself for makes you feel guilty.
In Jungkook’s defense, he wants to be forgiven and loved (again) as desperately as he acts on an everyday basis. Not only is e pathetic in the sense that he’s hopeless, but also pathetic in the light that he wants the entirety of you (stubbornness and occasional sharpness included) to rub off on him.
“I know I’m stupid. I-I.. I know that I was unfair for not even letting you confess your feelings because I felt like dying when you started to ignore me,” he mumbles to your bedsheets, his legs crossed on the ground and his head muffled by the fabric because he doesn’t even want to sit next to you in fear of you revoking his chance to apologize in person, again, as if that’s not what he had been doing the past weeks. “Y/N, you don’t deserve someone as stupid as me and I hate it so, so bad.”
The sound of Jungkook apologizing to you has already been repeated enough to the point you’ve learned when to tune him out, but with the way his heart precedes his tone this time, you stop folding your clothes in favor of Jungkook who’s just two seconds away from passing out on your bed by fabric conditioner-bathed quilt-induced suffocation, to which he couldn’t pass up on because it was your scent and he missed hugging you.
“I can’t catch up with you on anything that you’re talking about with Yoongi. The only times I open a book are when I want to look at you but I don’t want you to see me. I can’t— I can barely even talk to you without feeling like I’m beneath you,” he admits lowly, the truth of his rejection finally springing up a little too much, and almost a little too late. “I thought, stupidly, that we wouldn’t work because you deserve someone better.”
“I don’t need you to catch up with me, Jungkook,” you murmur, lightly slapping his cheeks because he looks sleepy from all the sniffing he’s done on your quilt, but really, his eyes are only narrowed into slits because he feels like he’s about to cry. Again.
“But I need to, b-because when we run out of things to talk about that you’re willingly to dumb down to my level, what else could we catch up on?”
“You’re not stupid. I just say-…”
“No. Don’t make excuses for me,” he laughs lightly, still sat on your carpet obediently like a dog because he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. “I’m beneath you and I didn’t want to drag you down with me because I.. I didn’t feel that you deserve me,” he confesses. “But I want you so badly, Y/N. You have no idea.”
Jungkook wants you so badly, that in your insistence of self-pity, it was his self-preservation that led him to cry by himself when you finally left the library after not-confessing to him.
He wants you so badly, that in his fit of self-preservation disguised into stubbornness, he had tamped down his desperation for you.
“I want to catch up with you, not you to slow down for me,” Jungkook rests his chin on your thigh, his wide, pleading eyes looking up at you. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I’m so, so, so sorry for being stupid enough to let you go the first time,” he tilts his head, resting his cheek on your awaiting hand. “Please. I’m just begging you to slow down for me this one time,” Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, nudging your hand gently with his cheek. “Please let me look stupid trying to earn you.”
Jungkook, without fail, tells you how desperately he wants to be loved by you.
im crying so bad........... love loooveeeee pathetic men ... this hurts so good i felt like my soul was crushed into bits but then built right back up and wrapped lovingly into weighted blankets.. ilysm miss jiminrings you make me feel like mush and bring me comfort every single time 💗🥹🥹
synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.
genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)
wc: ~16.4k
cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🛑, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!
—
if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.
so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.
you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.
three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.
finally, someone was moving in.
some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.
unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.
“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.
you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).
except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.
as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.
“hey, neighbor.”
you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.
the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.
“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.
what’s done is done.
you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.
but fuck, he’s hot.
—
305 was not quiet.
you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.
you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.
you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.
you love him.
you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?
back to the situation at hand.
you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.
another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.
“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.
god, you missed her.
you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.
again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.
realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“
“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.
his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.
“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”
you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.
“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.
little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.
“don’t know.” he shrugs.
“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.
he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.
“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”
“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.
he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.
—
“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.
“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.
“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.
“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.
jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”
jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.
not jungkook though, so he thinks.
“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.
jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.
weird.
what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.
so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.
but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.
alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.
—
jungkook was going to murder you.
not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.
fuckin’ hell.
it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.
“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.
you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.
“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”
he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.
“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.
“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”
“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.
you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”
you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”
jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.
should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.
—
the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.
honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.
your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.
you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.
weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.
though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.
that’s fine.
you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.
the feeling was mutual.
“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.
“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”
“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.
he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.
“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”
you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.
people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.
one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.
“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”
he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.
“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.
“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”
you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.
“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.
“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.
knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.
another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.
jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.
he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.
yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.
shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.
—
people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.
that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.
the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.
regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.
score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.
you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—
“ahem.”
you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.
“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.
even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.
no fucking way.
“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.
jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.
“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.
the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.
“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.
yeah, cause you had bought k12.
“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”
jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.
“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.
“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.
the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.
you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.
well, two can play that game.
“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.
she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”
“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”
truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.
you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.
he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.
“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.
“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”
you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.
the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.
you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.
when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.
“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.
you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”
“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.
why would he?
“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”
nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”
unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.
“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.
“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.
she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.
—
you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.
nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.
clean slate.
“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.
“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.
“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.
“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”
“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.
“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”
you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.
“look, i’ll apologize—“
“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.
there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.
—
the talk never happened.
because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.
today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.
it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.
highest of highs, lowest of lows.
it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.
you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.
you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.
when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.
little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …
you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.
“uh, 307?”
“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.
he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.
ah, shit. he feels even worse.
“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.
you scoff and look away.
“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”
“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.
“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”
“shut the fuck up.”
he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.
“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.
“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.
“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.
“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.
you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.
“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”
it was the first time you laughed all day.
—
things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.
on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.
oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.
“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.
so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.
to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.
‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’
needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.
so yeah, things have been good.
tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.
you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”
you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.
you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.
“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”
“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.
“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.
“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.
“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.
anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.
“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.
jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.
“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”
“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”
they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.
a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.
“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.
there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.
—
jungkook feels sick.
he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.
the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.
jungkook has a bad feeling about him.
jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.
the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.
well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.
he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.
“you good?” jinah whispers.
“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.
she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.
shit.
why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?
he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.
—
you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.
you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.
“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.
“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.
“what do you do for work?”
“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.
“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.
“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”
“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.
“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.
“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”
“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.
“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.
“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.
“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.
you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.
“they’re amazing, jungkook.”
his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.
“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.
“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.
“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.
“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”
—
you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.
he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.
men.
you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.
“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.
“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.
all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …
you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.
“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.
he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.
“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.
“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”
“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.
he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.
“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”
you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.
jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.
“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.
his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”
you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.
you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.
he really was perfection.
little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.
did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.
“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.
you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.
“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.
“are you cheating on me?”
“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.
realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”
he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.
when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.
“well?”
“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.
“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.
you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”
“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”
“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.
don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.
his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.
“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.
you sniffle into his chest, “why?”
he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”
his girl.
“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.
“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?
fuck it.
“i don’t know. people who love each other?”
he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.
“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“
“do you even like me?”
“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.
“do you love me?”
he’s silent.
“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.
“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.
“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”
—
the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.
you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.
you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.
guess old habits die hard.
you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.
… and no jungkook.
you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.
honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.
jungkook didn’t deserve that.
the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.
breaks meant for a reset.
he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.
you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.
he eventually obliged.
thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.
“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.
dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.
“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.
you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.
“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.
“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”
“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.
so, it was your fault?
“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”
the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.
so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.
love is patient, love is kind.
you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?
maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.
“goodbye, dohwan.”
—
jungkook hates overly loud sex.
it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.
win-win.
sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.
it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.
fuckin’ gorilla.
jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.
you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.
he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.
just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.
jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.
—
‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’
you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.
he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.
you slowly let him back in.
he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.
yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.
you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.
“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.
you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”
“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”
“hm.”
“what?” he presses.
“nothing.”
“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.
“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”
jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.
“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.
you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.
which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?
was he just like you?
his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”
you sigh.
“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”
jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.
he ruffles your hair.
“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”
—
jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.
aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.
he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.
you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.
you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.
that just might be his demise.
even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.
like dog, like owner.
“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
bam whines and follows you to the door.
“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.
“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.
“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.
“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.
“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”
bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.
jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.
you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”
he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.
“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”
“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”
you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.
so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.
—
you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.
it’s not always about being in isolation though.
it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.
with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.
wrong person, wrong time.
because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.
jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.
yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?
right person, wrong time, you suppose.
bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.
doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.
“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.
“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.
he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”
he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”
your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.
“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.
“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.
he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.
“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.
“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”
before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.
—
jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.
“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.
“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.
he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.
“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”
“i don’t get—wait, what?”
“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”
has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.
“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”
and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.
it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.
jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.
—
home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.
bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.
“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.
“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”
he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.
“bad.”
“oh? wanna talk about it?”
“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.
“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.
“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.
“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.
when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.
“sorry—“
“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.
“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.
“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”
“good, as she should.”
jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”
you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.
“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.
“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.
“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.
“just hear me out, okay?”
you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.
“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”
you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.
you owe him the truth at least.
“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”
jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.
“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“
you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.
“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”
he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.
“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”
“huh? no, you’re—“
“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”
he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.
right person, wrong time.
“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”
“friends,” you agree.
it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.
“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”
“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”
“that shit was the worst to get off.”
“funny as hell though.”
“yeah, for you.”
everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.
—
“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.
“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.
you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.
“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”
“yeah, but—“
“you’re just scared. i know you.”
“nayeon …”
“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”
“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.
“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”
you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.
“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.
everything happens for a reason.
“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.
“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”
“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”
“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”
“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”
the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.
you want more.
you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.
you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.
—
you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.
it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.
you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.
he looks like home … no, he feels like home.
fuck.
you really are torturing yourself.
when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.
so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.
“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.
“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.
he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.
as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.
after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.
“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.
“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.
“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”
“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”
“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”
“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”
“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.
you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.
“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.
“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.
you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.
when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.
jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.
you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.
when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.
“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.
“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”
your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.
“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.
“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.
of course he wants more with you.
“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.
“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.
“okay.”
—
fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.
he feels the same with you.
this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.
part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.
so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.
“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.
“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.
if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.
slow and steady. you are both fine with that.
“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.
“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.
—
it’s going terribly.
traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.
okay, fine. to the movies it is.
except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.
when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.
“bam, no!”
all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?
bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.
“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”
“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.
“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.
you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.
hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.
“can i come in, kook?”
a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”
jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.
you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.
he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.
“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.
“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”
“all of it.”
“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.
you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.
“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.
“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.
he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”
he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”
“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.
“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.
“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.
“hm?”
“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.
jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”
you felt fucking special.
so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.
he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.
“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.
he’s also your boyfriend now.
you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.
you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.
“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”
jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.
his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.
he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.
“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”
you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”
“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”
“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.
“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.
jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.
“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.
his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.
“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.
if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.
you’re still so fucking perfect.
he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.
“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.
“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.
yes, he’s yours.
you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.
“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”
you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”
he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.
jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.
your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.
“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”
jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.
he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.
“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.
your heart swells at his words.
there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.
it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.
and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.
you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.
“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?
he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.
“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.
he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.
“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.
tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.
“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.
“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.
“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.
he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.
he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.
“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.
never, he thinks.
jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.
“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.
you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not quiet, mindful, or kind with how he entered into your life.
though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.
love is patient, love is kind.
you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.
ive bookmarked this a few weeks ago and only got to this now cos i got busy over the past few weeks but all i can say is that....worldbuilding worldbuilding worldbuilding!!!! i love me some worldbuilding!!!! shout out to worldbuilding!!!!!
like i just reallyyy really love full length fics like this where u can really see and feel how the writer took time to create the world in which the story is taking place, how the characters feel like theyre written for a cute, sweet romcom, and how all the genres just bind together so perfectly in a wellbalanced way 😔 anddd the whole premise was just too cute!!! neighbors au is one of my top 3 fave tropes loolll and the banter was just too gooddarn cute 😭😭
ive been on the lookout for just really fluffy and wholesome fics like this and im so sososoos stoked to read one finally!!! 😭🫶🏼💓💓
you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.
based on this ask
from the grande series ୨ৎ
pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader
genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers
ratings: +18 / mdi
warnings: lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (21 n 25), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33
word count: 12.9k
a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻💻
────୨ৎ────
you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.
but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.
there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.
meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.
jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.
“looking for anything in particular?”
when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.
he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”
the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.
you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.
you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.
jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.
there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.
deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.
yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.
it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”
when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.
he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”
“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”
he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.
you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”
jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”
your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”
what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.
“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”
you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.
and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.
but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.
still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.
and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.
jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.
you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.
jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.
it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.
one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.
by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”
you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.
he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”
the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.
you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”
he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”
the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.
when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.
he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.
jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.
only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.
but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.
your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.
you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”
he hummed softly.
“i want you to kiss me.”
the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.
jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”
you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.
but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.
he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”
”what? why not?”
your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.
jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”
”but i am sure about it. i want you.”
once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”
your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.
he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.
you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.
his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”
his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.
he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.
but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.
you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.
with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.
he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—
“hello?”
his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”
”that would be me, ma’am.”
“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.
”hey. feeling better, miss?”
his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”
jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.
you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”
when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.
it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.
jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.
you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.
with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.
but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.
on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.
and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.
through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.
“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”
you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.
you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”
“i do. very badly.”
his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.
you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”
jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.
it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.
with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.
he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.
you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.
you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.
his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.
he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”
in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.
instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.
jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.
”yeah? you like that?”
you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.
”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.
you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.
he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”
it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.
you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”
he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”
his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.
you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.
the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.
he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.
he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.
you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.
he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.
he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.
he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.
he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.
you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”
you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.
jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”
“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.
“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.
you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.
when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.
jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.
you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.
“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.
you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”
it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”
your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.
jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.
he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”
the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“
“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”
the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.
he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”
”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.
you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.
he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”
you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”
he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”
you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”
the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”
the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.
he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.
the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.
“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.
but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.
your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”
he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”
jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.
you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”
you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.
you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”
when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.
the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”
he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.
your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.
but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”
you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”
the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”
you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”
he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.
his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.
a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.
he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.
”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.
when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.
he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.
jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.
he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.
you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.
when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”
he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.
you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”
“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.
his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.
what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.
you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.
jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.
your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”
he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.
it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”
he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”
you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”
jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.
he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”
his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.
now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?
but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.
ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.
you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”
the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.
it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”
you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”
the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.
it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.
you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.
you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.
jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.
your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.
in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”
jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”
you whispered, ”please.”
”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”
your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.
in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”
”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.
as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“
”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”
he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.
jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.
he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”
you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”
”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.
“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.
as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.
jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.
you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.
as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.
he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”
”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”
”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.
he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.
”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.
it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.
”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.
your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.
it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.
you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.
when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.
you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.
he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”
“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”
“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”
his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.
the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.
he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.
and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”
he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”
you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.
now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.
the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.
the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.
your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.
as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”
you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.
he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.
soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.
you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.
”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.
”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.
and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.
the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.
jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”
you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.
jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“
”wanna make you cum, gguk.”
he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.
”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.
but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”
your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.
his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.
”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”
his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.
the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.
you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.
“sweetheart. you sleepy?”
you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.
he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.
as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.
luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.
he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.
but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.
with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.
“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.
“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”
jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.
instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.
it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.
but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.
your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”
he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”
your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”
“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.
you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”
jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”
the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.
as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.
but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.
he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”
your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”
“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”
with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”
“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.
“you’re so gross.”
“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.
chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.
at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.
it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”
“hmm?”
“i’m so happy.”
his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.
you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”
your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.
he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”
the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.
your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.
you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.
his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”
the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”
he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.
the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.
he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.
he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.
the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”
it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.
but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.
you were the truth. he was in love.
so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”
the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.
“i love you too, gguk.”
it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.
all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warm nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.
it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.
when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.
the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.
and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.
despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.
quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.
even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.
jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.
you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.
“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“
those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”
there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”
you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”
you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.
he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.
you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.
UHM HELLO...... this is so beautiful what the fuckk i may have cried?????? sweet sweet bookstore employee jk hes so gentle and so kind and so caring and so loving 😞😭 oc is so cutie patootie loauv that she has smool titties let us rise small boobs havers!!!! i will think about this jk for the following 6-10 business days ☝🏼
Summary: You hate a lot of things about Jeon Jungkook; you hate his arrogance, his reputation, and his pet name for you to name a few. But most of all, you hate how right it feels for you to fall into his arms, and how easy it is to fall for him.
Word Count: 10,764
Genre: fuckboy!Jungkook, college au, hate to lust to…
A/N: Completely inspired by this vine that I saw months ago that hasn’t left me alone since. Bonus points to those who notice the line of the song in the fic. Extra bonus points to those who recognize the Hamilton reference
Part 02. Part 03 + Drabbles
If you were being completely honest, your issue with Jeon Jungkook began years before university.
You’d grown up close to each other, his house was right across from yours but you’d hated him from the moment you met in primary school. He’d joined you and your friends in a game of truth or dare during recess, and his dare for you had been to race him from one end of the playground to the other. You had tripped, cutting your knees open but he’d continued running, winning before realizing you weren’t behind him anymore. Only by that time, the teacher had gotten to you and you’d spent the rest of primary school glaring at Jungkook whenever he was in your sights, childishly blaming him for your scars.
Of course, you didn’t hold that grudge still. Your first year of university had just started, and it would be petty and pathetic of you to still hate him for that reason. But Jungkook had given you several more reasons to hate him throughout your years of schooling.
You’d watched throughout middle and high school as Jungkook grew from a cheeky, cocky kid, into an even cockier young man. He’d never cared much for his grades, choosing instead to throw parties with his friends, to ditch class occasionally, and rile up any girls he chose. You stayed away from him, attending different parties and sticking with your small group of friends, and by the second year of high school Jungkook became one of the most well known players of the town.
summary: He smokes cigarettes. You hate it. You always have a lighter in your pocket. He is pissed off because it isn't for him, you say. So much is said, but the truth is in the silence.
wc: 26.7k; warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smoking cigarettes, negative attitudes about smoking, quitting smoking; mentions of misogyny in South Korea; slow burn; constant bickering, tbh; smut (fem reader, striptease (?), heavy making out, scratching, penetrative sex, he puts his hand over her mouth and she licks it, multiple orgasms, handjob, fingering); non-idol!AU - smoker, pining, bratty!JK x cold, independent, insomniac!reader; reader's POV
--
“Got a light?”
You reached in your pocket and pulled out the lighter that you always kept on you. It had a dragon insignia etched into the black metal. Heavy and substantial. Serious enough to bruise if thrown with enough force. You flicked it open with your thumb and raised it.
Jeon Jungkook leaned in, holding a cigarette between his lips expectantly.
You made your distaste evident in your expression.
He smirked.
You pressed the button and the orange flame shot up. Burning paper and tobacco. The end of the cigarette glowed red. You pulled your hand away, flicking your wrist to extinguish the flame. Slipped it back into your pocket and resumed not looking at him. You heard him inhale with a satisfied sigh before bleeding out smoke to the sky.
“You smoke too?”
“Fuck no,” you snapped. “I’m not disgusting.”
There was a sharp sucking sound of Jungkook’s incredulous annoyance. “Hm. Then the lighter’s just for me, huh?” His voice was throaty with nicotine. You hadn’t moved away yet. He nudged your shoulder with his knuckles. You didn’t react. “You like me that much?”
You could smell the fumes in the air even though he was attempting to be careful about it. That was the thing about smoke. It got everywhere. A gaseous parasite. You didn’t reply. Instead, you stuck your hands in your denim jacket pockets and acted as if he wasn’t there. Predictably, not a single person looked your way, even with your pleated blue plaid miniskirt was grazing the bottom of your ass and your black pleather corset showing off the ample curve of your breasts.
No one wanted to deal with the big tattooed guard dog smoking just behind you.
He was trying to stand close but not too close. You wondered if Jungkook was aware of how much subtilty he lacked. He likely had no clue. He called your name, casually, desperate for some sort of attention.
“Just say it.”
You turned your head maybe an iota of a degree in his direction, glaring at him from under your black baseball cap. Seething.
“The lighter is not for you, Jeon Jungkook.”
His lips twisted into a pout. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair which definitely worked on other people. Just not you. He held the lit cigarette away from you, and so you spared him a little more of your gaze, pivoting your black boot to view him at an angle.
“You’re lying,” he asserted with false confidence. “You’ve always got it when I ask.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t mean that it’s for you. Could be for someone else.”
This revelation did not pacify him. The opposite, actually. His brows knitted together. The corner of your lips ticked upward. This pissed him off even more as you seemed to imply scenarios that he very much did not like. You were curious on what how he would approach it.
“Yeah, right. Sure.” He took a quick drag and blew it towards the sky. His dark eyes locked on you. He called your bluff. “You don’t like smoking. There’s no way you would hang out with anyone else who does. You already told me that’s the reason we’re not dating.” Uncertainty etched into his stern expression. “… Right?”
You tilted your head at him.
You watched your silence infuriate Jungkook. He puffed up his chest a little, which was admittedly impressive even in his oversized black t-shirt. He had big pectoral muscles. He had picked up working out to add an addiction in attempt to subtract one. He did smoke less in your presence. But not zero.
“Right?”
He was being very demanding and prissy right now.
You pursed your lips and sucked on the side of your teeth. Then you said, “Yup. That’s the only reason.”
Despair ghosted over his features. He glanced down at the cigarette in his hand. There was slightly more than three-fourths left. His eyes went from you to the concrete sidewalk and then back again. You frowned.
“Don’t even think about littering,” you warned.
He clicked his tongue and flicked ash behind him. “So? Who is it?”
“Who is who?” You taunted back in the same irked tone, minus the underlying insecurity.
“The other person you’re cheating on me with,” Jungkook snapped.
You weren’t bothered by his fury. “I’m not cheating on you if you’re not my boyfriend to begin with.”
He shot you a look that could have scalded most. “And whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
“Tch, then be my girlfriend and take them from me.”
“Not how this works,” you countered, shifting your stance away from him. Slight panic flashed over his features. You ignored it. “My bus is coming soon.”
“Ugh,” he tutted. “I hate that you go to concerts alone.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t spend your money on smokes, you could join me.”
“I asked,” he growled. “I have the money. You said no.”
You sent him a soulless smile. “Because you smoke.”
Jungkook looked ready to put out the cigarette on his own arm. But you were already backing away. He half-followed, still talking.
“You’re going dressed like that? You’re going to get groped.”
You did your best to not call him stupid. You settled for an eye-roll. “Why do you think I stuck around after you asked for a light?” You stopped. So did he, avoiding closeness. He looked confused. “Men stay away from me when they smell smoke on my clothes. Either I smoke or I’ve got a boyfriend who does. Either way, not attractive.”
He flinched at your double-edged comment. Then, with a measured amount of bravery, Jungkook took a step forward and tapped your chest with his hand that held the cigarette. You made a displeased face. A tendril of smoke drifted upwards for the suspended second that he held his fingertips to your skin. You narrowed your eyes at him. He backed up, lifting both hands up in defeat. He licked his lower lip, looking down at you.
“If the lighter’s not for me, then what’s it for?”
There was a metal screech of heavy brakes behind you, closer to the street.
You glared up at him, wishing he picked better addictions.
Only time could tell.
“Arson,” you replied, and turned around to step onto the bus, leaving Jungkook alone once again. He would tire of it soon enough.
-
You scowled.
“Why the fuck are you here?”
The crowd was parting as you were heading to the train station. Just before you were meant to enter, a man approached you with a plastic bag and a bottle of water. He looked almost as aggravated as you felt. His hands were occupied so for once he couldn’t ask for a light.
“Is that any way to greet someone waiting for you?” Jeon Jungkook growled.
You were far from impressed. “Did I ask you to wait for me?” You answered yourself. “No, I didn’t. So, you’re the stalker here.”
His dark eyes shifted over the passerby you had no interest in. He looked back at you with a peeved expression. “Better me than an actual creep.”
“Spoiler alert: you are an actual creep.”
You kept your distance, wary, and made to walk around him. Something flashed in his gaze but he shut his eyes and sucked in the side of his cheek with a sharp sound. His body turned, semi-following you. You noticed he was wearing a black leather jacket, a different cream shirt, and dark olive cargo pants. Same black sneakers from earlier though. His black hair seemed faintly damp. He must have taken a shower. Perhaps he went to work out while you were gone for hours.
“At least take the water and food,” Jungkook scoffed, holding out the items. “You’re probably dehydrated and hungry. Don’t your feet hurt from standing so long?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Nothing.”
You stopped and stared him down. He rolled his eyes. He seemed hurt. It didn’t matter if he was avoiding your gaze; you could tell. There was no reason to soften your tone, but at the very least you reached out and took the water bottle from him. The condensation felt nice on your palm already. You unscrewed the cap with a cold expression and heard the plastic crack. He hadn’t tempered with it, at least. A part of you felt bad for assuming the worst, but, then again, this was South Korea. You took a sip and pointed with the cap to the plastic bag.
“What food?”
Jungkook started, diverting his peek at your reaction in hopes you didn’t notice. You had. “Pan-fried tteokbokki,” he mumbled.
One of your favorites. At least he used his ears sometimes. “You really balled out, huh. How much I owe you?”
He took offense. “You think I don’t make enough money to treat you?”
“What do you need to treat me for?”
“Aren’t we friends?” Jungkook shot back.
You were mid-sip when the damage was already done. You saw him freeze up and then quickly look away. People walking past were giving you both weird looks, splitting around the two of you as a river does to a pesky rock stuck in the middle. You lowered the water bottle. He shoved his free hand into his front pant pocket. His knuckles indented the fabric. You looked from them, to back up to his face. His brows were knitted together and he appeared to be biting back an insult.
Or something else.
You reached for the bag.
Hooked your fingers around the handles. He didn’t let go. Nor acknowledge you. You tugged lightly. He remained an immovable statue. You took a step forward and pulled up, turning your face away from his chest in the process.
Jungkook whipped his head back and glared down at you.
His grip tightened. You pressed your lips together as the side of your fingers touched the side of his. He smelled fresh. He had definitely showered. The stale scent of his cigarette from earlier still lingered on your denim jacket. You shifted your eyes and made eye contact. Close. Not touching, though. Just enough for a misunderstanding that wasn’t going to happen because both of you were crystal clear on your stances.
He let go of the bag.
The weight fell onto your fingers.
He was searching for the words but you interrupted his thoughts.
“You gonna make sure I get home safe?” you asked.
He looked away. “Don’t be stupid.” Tightened his jaw. “What kind of man would I be if I just let you wander around at night by yourself?”
You watched his profile. He didn’t turn back. You stepped back. His eyes followed, as unnoticeable as he believed, and you let him have that, choosing instead to start walking.
“Might as well eat while it’s warm. I could sit down for a bit.”
You didn’t look back to see if he was after you. You heard him bite back his reply and swiftly pivot, and then it was both you against the night of blaring headlights and a dissipating crowd, feeling two kinds of alone despite all the people around. You ended up at the underground food court. Probably where he purchased the tteokbokki to begin with. Found a table and unwrapped the container. A paper-sleeved wooden skewer was tucked against the lid.
Jungkook threw himself into the seat across from you and pulled out his phone, beginning his doomscrolling.
It was still warm. Lightly spicy. Probably a bit too heavy for late night but that was why it tasted better than usual. You caught his darting glimpse as you ate. Raised an eyebrow. He pretended not to notice. Or was it that he pretended not to care? You raised the skewer and tilted it towards him. He continued to ignore you even though his body was halfway turning.
“Want one?”
“I’m fine,” he instantly answered. Almost smugly.
You knew what he was doing. Still, you acted as if you didn’t. “I can’t eat it all anyway. Don’t waste.”
Those dark brown orbs shifted back. His eyebrows furrowed. He did his best to sound annoyed. “You don’t eat enough.”
“Even if I didn’t, I should eat something healthier,” you pointed out, keeping your face neutral.
He reached for the skewer and you pierced one of the rice cakes instead. Soaking it in the sauce and holding it out. Jungkook locked eyes with you. You slid the container closer so he could lean over it.
He took the skewer from your fingers and fed himself.
All while staring at you.
The eye contact was broken by his eyes closing. Enjoying the food. Crispy, warm, spicy. Chewy on the inside, in that satisfying way that one could enjoy the seeping heat all over the tongue. He stabbed another and ate that too, without asking. You hadn’t expected him to. You hadn’t expected him to do any of this, actually. You drank another sip of water.
“I’ll take the train home.”
“I don’t think so,” Jungkook grumbled with full cheeks, sliding the container back to you and shoving the wooden skewer in your hand. His brief touch lingered. You searched for his expression but he covered the lower half of his face with his other hand, keeping his eyes shut and chewing as he spoke. “I came on my bike. I’ll drop you off at your place.”
Now that was sounding a little too familiar. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve done it before.”
He cracked open an eye and you could tell he was frowning even though his hair had fallen over his temples. “Just because you’ve done it before doesn’t mean it’s smart or safe.”
He underestimated your resting psycho bitch face. You speared two pieces of tteokbokki and crammed them in your mouth. Chewed with irritation. You swallowed. “No one is out to get me.”
Those three-quarter moons remained unconvinced. “That you know of.”
You raised your eyebrows and moved to continue eating. “You watch too much true crime.”
“You don’t watch enough. You are the one that should be cautious,” Jungkook retorted.
“I am cautious.” You glanced at him above pan-fried rice cake. “But you can’t live always being afraid of possible horrors. If I did that, well, I would sleep even worse than I already do.”
You ate.
Jungkook lowered his eyes and went pensively silent.
There wasn’t anything to say. You cleaned up. Threw away the remains appropriately. Began to walk with him subtly leading the way. The night felt darker. Quieter. The concert crowd was gone and now the streets were full of night owls on their own lonely missions. You pretended passersby parted to let you and him through. The more likely answer was avoidance though. There wasn’t anything that friendly about Jungkook’s rigid presence and your inherently cold one.
In a parking lot now.
His black and chrome motorcycle was parked. A beast in its own right. Lately, you had been thinking of his addictions. Tattoos. Motorcycles. Cigarettes. Chasing after the un-chasable. Was he simply a thrill seeker or was he attempting to break an internal perfection that he had been living by for far too long? Or just doing anything that came to mind to try and feel something? You stopped walking when he did. He did his thing. And then Jungkook held out a lump of black fabric to you.
You raised your eyebrows.
He half-shrugged. “You can’t get on the bike in that skirt.”
He was right. You didn’t want him to be right. You took the lump that turned out to be a pair of his sweatpants. The Nike ones he usually wore to work out. You made a face. He rolled his eyes as he produced the helmet.
“They’re clean,” he huffed. “I ain’t nasty.”
You had quite a few comebacks for that but you kept your mouth shut. You wondered if he noticed how he slipped out of his practiced Seoul dialect for half a sentence. You noticed. You averted your eyes. It was late. The adrenaline was wearing off to soreness. You could only give about a rat’s ass of a fuck right now. Fuck it. You started bending down.
“Woah!”
All of a sudden you felt a strong grip on your forearm, pulling you back up and dragging you forward, sandwiching you in between the large motorcycle and Jungkook’s scowl, quickly letting go once you glared. You narrowed your eyes. He gave you a disapproving frown.
“I’m wearing shorts under this,” you hissed under his chin.
“Booty shorts, maybe,” he snapped back. “Also, shorts or not, they don’t hide your shape. Idiot.”
He was wrong. You were wearing black boyshort-style panties. Semantics. Instead of bending down, you raised one leg to lower the inner zipper of your boots. Immediately, Jungkook caught your shoulder, steadying you. You didn’t thank him. You glowered. He glowered back as you undid the other one. You stomped down and bunched up the legs of the sweatpants, first sticking in one foot and then the other, doing a little dance in and out of your boots, before forcefully yanking them up your legs. He didn’t let you fall, but he also didn’t look either, swiftly turning his head to stare out into the street. There was a brief moment where you had to decide to tuck in your skirt or let it flare out over the top of the pants. You opted for the latter, straightening and smoothing out the pleats over the crotch of his borrowed sweatpants.
He glanced back and frowned.
You noticed. “What?”
His eyes drifted up. Brow knitted together. He let go of your shoulder. “Not fair that you look cute,” he muttered.
“I look dumb as hell.” You bent over and rezipped your boots, adding under your breath, “But it’s better than nothing. I guess.” You stood up again.
There was a shifty, expectant silence.
You wanted to go home and sleep. At the same time, you wanted to be awake. Jungkook hesitated for a moment and then handed you the helmet in his hands before circling around you to grab the other one he had stored, leaving you to figure that shit out on your own. He avoided your gaze as surely as you did his. The whole scene looked less weird that it felt. You heard the engine purr to life. He said something and you ignored him, buttoning up your jacket so your valuables wouldn’t fall out. Not your best look, however, you had not planned any of this in any capacity.
Jungkook was already seated, his long legs extended to the asphalt to steady himself.
“So, you–”
You placed your hand on his bicep and stepped onto the footpeg, nimbly swinging your leg over to balance behind him. Underneath your hand, you felt him stiffen as you settled, sliding your other arm around his back and temporarily landing on his hip before you removed the hand on his upper arm to grip his waist.
“O… Oh.”
He cleared his throat.
“I’m good,” you confirmed even though he hadn’t asked.
He felt warm and solid and you did your best to ignore it.
“R-Right.” A pause before he said, “Hold on, alright?”
You squeezed his waist.
“Mhm.”
Jungkook took you home.
-
“I’ll get the pants back later,” he said as you handed him the helmet back. “Go on up.”
You observed him. Jungkook did his best to be calm and not jittery. He gave you a strange look, realizing that you were analyzing him. He had killed the engine so he didn’t have to shout. He cradled the helmet you had borrowed with one hand, the other on the handle of his motorcycle for a moment before using it to raise the visor to uncover his dark eyes.
You paused.
Then, you unbuttoned your denim jacket, reaching into the inner pocket for your lighter.
You held it out to Jungkook.
He glanced at it, and then at you.
You ticked your head. “You’ll need a light again. Inevitably. Take it.”
His gaze sharpened. He looked away quickly, and you could tell by the contortion of his features that he was shoving his tongue into his cheek, letting out an annoyed huff. Then, he shook his head, as if your audacity was something to behold. Jungkook then transferred the helmet to the crook of his arm and shoved his dominant, tattooed hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, ripping out a slightly crumpled cigarette box with one corner torn open.
He slapped it over your dragon lighter.
“Shit.”
You stared at your palm. And then at him. Jungkook glared back, exhaling hard.
“Take ‘em,” he mumbled. His Busan dialect was even more obvious now. His voice was gruff and his manner blunted. “Just fuckin’ take them.”
“I don’t want these,” you retorted.
“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed to daggers. “Neither should I.” His eyes shifted down and then back up. “Inevitably. You’re so fucking full of it.”
You almost flung both objects at his face. Almost. Yet something made you reconsider. Something about Jungkook’s demeanor shifted. He tried to keep his tone sharp but it was dulled by his body language. He cocked his chin in the most falsely cocky way.
“You think I’m gonna want ‘em?”
Your gazes locked.
“Then I’ll have to come to you to get ‘em.”
You pursed your lips. “I’m going to throw them away.”
He dared you. “Do it.”
“You’ll waste your money and time.”
“And I’ll be reminded you’ll never let me live it down,” Jungkook growled. “I’ll think twice before putting myself through that fire.”
Silence.
Eye to eye.
You held his stare.
Then, you lowered your hand, clutching his cigarettes and your lighter, backing away, and quickly spinning on your heel, striding into your apartment building. You punched in the code. Behind you, you heard the swift kick of an engine roar and then a fading zip away as you yanked open the glass door. You didn’t look back. You pocketed Jeon Jungkook’s cigarettes.
-
Nights later, you sat on the floor next to your bed, flicking your lighter on and off to kill the flame and revive it. Over. And over. You stared at the tiny orange burst. Then extinguished it. Then ignited it again. Such a small light. So fragile and yet so capable of burning this entire apartment down. You breathed out. Fixated on the dancing flame. Time passed.
You sat in silence.
You snapped the lid closed, snuffing it out.
The room was semi-dark. Your bedside table lamp was the only light on. The curtains were open, giving you a view of the city skyline etched into the black sky. The area was actually pretty quiet. You got lucky with a neighborhood full of older folks who mostly minded their own damn business. The apartments were older in a homely sort of way. The most telling trait of the apartment complex was the general unease in the air. Probably because some of the older folks had died in their apartments before. People could be superstitious like that. Maybe you were too. You just didn’t see it as a negative.
Which said a lot about you.
You looked up to your nightstand. Next to the dingy chrome base of your lamp was an open pack of cigarettes. The box was missing maybe three or four of them, you guessed. You hadn’t torn it open to confirm.
Behind your head, your phone began to vibrate.
You lifted your hand and placed your lighter on the nightstand. The lines of the dragon engraving caught the low light, casting shadows over it. Your hand pivoted and you felt around the bed. Found the smoothness of the screen and pulled your phone to you, lowering it to your lap before looking at the caller ID. You frowned slightly once you noticed the time. That late, huh? And this person almost never called or texted. Well. At least not to you.
You accepted the call and brought it to your ear out of habit.
“Ya. You,” mumbled the slurred, distorted voice of Jeon Jungkook.
You responded just as politely. “What?”
He let out a huff. There was a fair bit of rustling and maybe the sound of glass on table. “I want you to know something.” You didn’t reply to that. It wasn’t a question. He paused anyway. Maybe expecting you to reprimand him. You stayed silent. “Ah, fuck.” He exhaled hard into the microphone. You held your phone slightly away from your ear even though you couldn’t smell the alcohol on his breath. “Look. I’m not drinking because I need a smoke.” You doubted it. “I just felt like drinking. It’s Friday.” He wasn’t wrong. “I… I get it, okay? I get why you don’t like it. Makes sense and all. I…” He trailed off again, struggling to find the words. “But I’m not like you. I’m not. I don’t have my shit together.”
“I don’t have my shit together,” you interjected. Should be obvious from you answering his call perfectly awake at three in the morning. He didn’t seem to be thinking rationally at the moment though. If he ever did.
“Fuck off.” He lost control of his Seoul dialect. Kept going back and forth between upstanding citizen and gruff Busan satoori. You wondered if he was aware. Probably not. “You have it way more together than me. I’m fuckin’ trying. Ugh.” His tone tightened. “It’s not… It’s not how you think it is. It’s not.”
You weren’t sure you thought it was anything but you let him talk. Nothing else to do, after all.
“I have great parents, you know.” He sighed. Despondently annoyed. “They’re awesome. I wanted to be a good son. That’s… I mean, doesn’t everybody? I listened to them. I listened to be teachers. I listened to my classmates. I wanted to be a good person, so I did everything asked of me from others.” His voice deepened to a soft growl.
“But… People take. I didn’t even realize it.”
You realized that Jungkook sounded sad.
“They take when they know you give. And I gave, because my parents taught me to be a good person and I didn’t want to disappoint them by people calling me heartless or cruel. But…” Mumbled something you didn’t catch. Cleared his throat. “It was becoming too much. I got fed up. I had to start saying no. But not before I had already said yes to a lot of stuff that I shouldn’t have said yes to. I had already developed bad habits by then.”
A few seconds of silence.
You broke it. “You’re too easily influenced,” you accused.
“Yeah, fuck me,” Jungkook grumbled. “Fuck me for not knowing that there are people are out there don’t have my best interests at heart and want to see me fucked up because they feel some type of way. My bad.”
You figured that was common sense. But maybe not. Maybe not, considering the way he talked about his parents. You pushed back your own personal biases despite their intrusive nature.
“Is your family disappointed in you?” you quietly asked.
“Me?” He let out a humorless laugh. “No. No, they’re supportive. Even if they don’t like my tattoos or the piercings or whatever, no one has ever made me feel shit about it. Everyone is positive. Even began to like those things about me when most elders would lose their shit.” He sighed. “But… I still didn’t quit the cigarettes. Just didn’t smoke around them, because I didn’t want to see my mom sad. But still. I didn’t even want to try to quit.”
A moment of reluctance.
“Until… Until I met you,” sighed Jungkook, his deep voice heavy.
Was that supposed to be flattering? You didn’t have time to ponder it.
“Hmph… I’m so envious of you.” A light thud. More rustling. He sounded a little muffled and a lot out of it. “You’re never ruffled. No matter what anyone says or does, you’re always yourself. You don’t relent even when I act like a prick. It’s so… Hah. I can’t do that.” He sounded defeated. “I try to not care too. I’m trying. I’m trying so fucking hard. The second I think I’ve got it, yes, this is me, I remember it’s not. It’s not. I just copied someone else I saw that I thought… Copying you… You’re right. Lots of people told me to quit. Or keep going, it’s not that bad. They can all fuck right off, until…”
A weak shuffle and then you could barely hear the whisper in between the phone lines. His face was seemingly buried into something. He sounded both far away and so very close at once.
“What am I doing…? It doesn’t… Doesn’t make sense.”
You almost said something. It wasn’t the right time. You shifted your position on the floor, leaning back against the bed. He must have heard that you were still on the other side of the line. He dragged more strength into his voice. As much as he could muster, anyway.
“How…” He shuddered. Whispered your name under his breath in the same way sailors called to stars to navigate the sea on a cold night. “You told me I should quit and… Yeah. I know you’re right. I know. I… The other night…”
The night you attempted to give him your lighter to keep.
Jungkook sniffed. “You can’t… Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter how you do it,” he mumbled. “You do. You just do. And so do I. I gotta just do.”
You finally spoke.
“Yes,” you sighed. “That’s the truth.”
Cradled the phone, leaning it against your temple.
“The world doesn’t care.” He sounded resigned but no longer on the edge. “Everyone just does what they wanna do.”
A long pause. For some reason, you had the impression that both of you were curled up somewhere at home suddenly feeling not at home. Maybe it was the time of the night. Or the alcohol on his end. Or the insomnia on your end. The long seconds marched on. Then, Jungkook asked you a question with a statement.
“I wish I knew what… What I wanna do.”
Silence.
You half-smiled knowing he couldn’t see it. Preferred, actually, that he didn’t. “Gonna be honest,” you chuckled. “I don’t know what I want to do. I follow my instincts and accept wherever I end up.”
He snorted. Haughtily. It was meant to dent to your demeanor and it was about as effective as a puff of popcorn. “Of course. Hah.” Exhaled hard, taking the fight out of himself. “You really… You really don’t know…?”
You debated what you did and didn’t know. “About what?”
An irritated huff. Something about your tone seemingly made him hesitate, though. He caught the gist of what was unsaid. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Sober Jungkook could never.
“If.” Just that. If. “Ah…”
He breathed out your name. It was very late. The darkness was at its peak. But Jeon Jungkook breathed your name with the capacity of a dreamer, half-conscious and losing fast.
“I won’t let it end like this.”
There were a few minutes of quiet.
You hung up before he could start snoring in your ear. A small part of you kind of wanted to hear it. But, instead, you hung up. Placed your phone on your lap. Stared straight ahead, to the windowsill and the peek of the city skyline against a black sky. You thought about his voice on the other end. Calling for you. You sat in silence. Night bled away. You wanted to reach for the lighter again. Your instincts told you not to.
So, you hoisted yourself up and crawled under your covers, giving in to exhaustion’s embrace.
-
The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook was an evening at a convenience store. It was a coincidence. Or perhaps one of fate’s great jokes. You spied him the second you walked into the small establishment. He was talking to a tall man with a sun-kissed tan and longish black hair in soft curls. They obviously knew each other. Jungkook’s laugh was his typical bright guffaw that he tried to stifle to not be a public disturbance.
For a second, you almost forgot that call from a few nights ago.
You looked away, heading to the other side of the store.
Before you did, though, he had glanced in your direction and done a double-take. You moved into an aisle, out of sight, heading to the back, changing your original intent for being here. This particular convenience store was family-owned. It had a small section where the owner’s wife prepared fresh gimbap daily. You wondered how many people knew about this, because it was always stocked. Maybe they preferred to buy from bigger stores, not trusting a small business. You grabbed a tray of heftily-filled tuna gimbap before heading to the fridge section for drinks.
Jungkook was standing there.
You pulled back into the aisle.
His back had been to you, so he didn’t have the chance to notice. Half-in the fridge, picking something out among the electrolyte replenishers and flavored waters. He carried a black backpack that seemed heavy with things. Workout stuff, you assumed. His companion earlier had a towel around his shoulders and had worn a red tank top with exaggerated armholes, revealing a built chest and defined arms. Jungkook’s black hair looked slightly damp, possibly sweaty, pushed back and away from his forehead. He was wearing an open navy hoodie, white tank top, gray sweatpants, and white sneakers. It was safe to assume the backpack had workout shit in it. You wondered where the other guy was. He had been very tall. Easy to spot over the tops of the aisles, but he seemed to no longer be in the store. He must have left, then. No one to distract Jungkook any longer. Hm. You still wanted a drink, but.
Not that badly.
You zipped your black hoodie over your exposed stomach once you noticed the cashier was the elderly woman. You probably would have zipped it no matter who it was. The older generation just tended to be less subtle about their judgements. You approached the register and she smiled, greeting you. You slid the tuna gimbap over to her.
He was behind you.
You glanced at the glass behind the cashier. The cabinet held various brands of cigarettes. It was very well-polished, and you could see Jungkook behind you, sternly staring at the back of your head. You turned around.
He shot you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows.
“The total is–”
In his hands was a big bottle. Some kind of sports drink. You took it from him, and put it next to your tuna gimbap. The old woman didn’t quite register the speed of your action, blinking several times.
“Sorry,” you said. “Could you please add this too? Thank you.”
Clearly, she could only focus at one thing at a time. She did not realize you had snatched the drink from the man behind you, which would immediately raise eyebrows. Instead, the older woman was preoccupied with searching for the barcode, turning the bottle this way and that, poking the scanner against it.
Adding it to your receipt.
You felt a hand on your shoulder.
You pulled out your card as the cashier stated your new total. Tapped it as Jungkook hissed your name under his breath, but you ignored him, accepting the purchase as the cashier carefully packed up your meal and someone else’s drink in the same small clear plastic bag. She smiled her customer service smile and then noticed the disheveled punk behind you with a slight widening of her eyes.
You thanked her again and wished her a nice day before gripping his hoodie sleeve and dragging him with you.
Immediately let go when you exited the establishment, finally paying heed to the muttering of curses behind you. You reached into the thin plastic bag and pulled out his drink, pivoting slightly to give it to him. Jungkook snatched it from your hand, scowling.
“I don’t need your fuckin’ charity,” he snapped.
You wondered if he even remembered his drunken laments. “It’s not charity.” You affixed an impassive expression. “Not for you, anyway. Just making it easier for the cashier.” You began to take a few steps in the direction you needed to go.
He scoffed, “What are you doing, anyway?” and cocked his chin at you. “Stalking me now?”
You wondered if he was wishing for that. “I’m retrieving dinner like everybody else at this hour. ‘Cept you, I guess,” you added, unzipping your hoodie again even though the sun was dropping fast.
“What the–”
And Jungkook quickly jogged up beside you, shielding your body with his.
“The hell you doing?”
You glared but didn’t stop walking. “What?” Impolitely.
He pointed to your sports bra with a flick of his wrist. “Uh, you can’t leave the house like that.”
“I already have,” you pointed out. His eyes were glued to your sports bra and the low-waisted black Nike sweatpants clinging to your hips.
“And you think nothing is going to happen to you?” Jungkook indignantly shot back, blocking your way and darting his gaze around as if offenders were already on the horizon.
“Whether it does or not has no bearing on what I’m wearing,” you dryly replied. He was repeating a tale as old as time. Not that that made it any less real. It was all heard before, though. “You act like I haven’t lived for decades knowing the horrors of the world.”
His expression changed. Still frustrated. Slightly put off by your wording. And, sadly, comprehension. “That’s not what I mean.”
“That’s what you’re coming off as.”
“Not my intention,” he grumbled.
“Intentions don’t mean much in the face of what actually happens,” you said, glancing at him.
He shut up.
You almost regretted spilling your honesty.
“Sorry,” he said softly.
He seemed beaten down by your response. Eventually he shook his head and ran his free hand through his windswept black hair, trying to sneak a glimpse at your face. You were already staring at him. That threw him off. He looked away, flustered.
“Can I at least accompany you back?” he offered. Awkwardly.
You ticked your head. You knew that his gym was near that convenience store. “Don’t you live around here?” He had mentioned it, once. “I need to take the bus.” Earlier, you were aware that there was definitely a chance for you would run into him once you chose your destination. But it was the closest spot to buy liquor, and you hadn’t felt like traveling further. Then the original plan changed once you encountered Jungkook. Remembering all that made you pause. You diverted your gaze, adding, “Forget it. Go home.”
Monotone.
Your dismissal clearly annoyed him. He let out an exaggerated exhale and blocked you again when you tried to walk around him. You narrowed your eyes but didn’t raise your head. His tank top was tight, revealing the contours of his muscle. The shoulder of his hoodie had slid down, exposing part of his tattoo sleeve. Dark rings of petals in a hypnotizing mandala. The artist was talented enough to make you pause to admire. Then you swiftly looked away, anywhere else, shifting to his jaw. He stuck his tongue in his cheek and steeled himself.
“Fine.” He came to a conclusion, apparently. “I need a smoke.”
A ripple of aggravation shot through your temple. You turned your stare to fixate on Jungkook. He glared back, twice as stubborn.
“You serious?” you snarled. “Go back to the store then and buy some yourself.”
He rolled his eyes. “The fuck is the point of giving them to you, then?”
You jerked back, disgusted. “I didn’t fucking want them, asshole.”
“Yeah, well,” he pressed, becoming more resolute by the second. “That was the deal.”
You planted a palm on his chest and shoved him out of your way. Unbelievable. “There was no fucking deal,” you retorted, walking fast. He kept up because he was an annoying prick. You glowered, bristling at his presence. “What? You think you can do whatever you want, Jeon Jungkook?” The audacity of this bitch. “I’m not gonna fuckin’ give them to you anyway. So, promptly, fuck off.”
His fingertips touched your shoulder.
You yanked your body back as if scalded.
“Don’t touch me.”
He pulled his hand out of the air but didn’t back down. Those dark brown eyes narrowed. His lips thinned. Anger clouded his features. And. You felt your icy composure become brittle when you observed the distressed sadness poorly hidden underneath said anger.
A tense stillness.
“They’ll kill you,” you steely stated.
His gaze shifted. Contorted. The expression of all too well.
“Yeah.” He exhaled hard. “That’s the truth.”
Then his eyes drifted back to you.
All the fight in the air drained out. Neither of you dared to speak. There were volumes written within this shared quiet. Strangers walked past, sending you both strange looks. You and him were too busy being struck in three-in-the-morning thoughts shared during an impromptu phone call. You looked away. So did he. There was a loud screech of metal and heavy tires on asphalt. You didn’t say anything. You only had time for an instinctive decision.
You tapped Jungkook’s forearm and waved, quickly running to catch up with the bus.
Less than a minute later, him and you stiffly sat next to each other on worn seats, trying your best not to glance at one another or make eye contact with anyone else. It was mostly successful, other than a strong-smelling middle-aged man that was eyeing everybody a little too closely. He settled on you for an unknown but undoubtably nefarious reason. Jungkook shoved you against the side of the bus and firmly put his backpack in his lap, blocking the view of your torso from the stranger’s perspective. Either the random man noticed the silent hostility or lacked object permeance when drunk. He changed course.
Both of you relaxed slightly.
You zipped up your hoodie anyway. Couldn’t hurt. You lifted your head. By mistake, your eyes locked with Jungkook’s. He looked like he wanted to say something but he stayed mute for now. It was a quiet bus ride, leaving both of you in roads of thought neither of you wanted to be in.
-
“You can go home now.”
Jungkook reminded you. “I need a smoke, remember?”
You held your apartment keys and frowned at him. He gave you a casual shrug you didn’t trust. He held onto his backpack and the drink you had bought him, now half-empty. You turned away, licking the side of your teeth. Glanced from all the closed doors around you. You couldn’t shake the tension at your shoulders. Passed by his face. There was something in his expression. You let out an exhale through your nose and shoved your key into the lock, harshly twisting it.
“Fine. Go look for them,” you invited not-so-invitingly.
The door was old and jammed in the frame. You shoved it, hard, and it swung open with almost too much force. You grabbed the knob before it could hit the wall in a practiced motion, crossing the threshold to remove your shoes and scoot them by the wall. He followed, somewhat startled by your daily habits. You ignored him. Instead, you headed for the tiny kitchen with your tuna gimbap, intending to devour it as Jungkook did his search. Chopsticks from the drawer. Taking out the tray of food and placing it on the counter while you balled up the plastic bag to put it in the correct recycling bin. Yanked off the lid and picked up the end piece to eat.
You chewed.
It was fresh. Pretty good.
Without turning around, you removed your hoodie and threw it to the side. It shot to the back of the sofa and clumped. You kept eating. You had already heard Jungkook lock the door, remove his shoes, and dump his backpack on the hardwood floor with a thump. The cigarettes were exactly where you left them. Next to your bedside table lamp with your lighter leaning against them. You ate another piece, staring at the bottom of your gray-stained cabinets, and only now realizing how hungry you were. Huh.
It was eerily quiet.
Weird.
You chewed on your third piece and twisted your body to find Jungkook still standing by the door, staring at your living room with wide eyes. The apartment was quite small. Maybe a little bit crammed. The living room had a black fabric sofa, a dark-stained coffee table that had seen too many late-night dinners, and the TV on a low storage unit.
And mirrors.
Mirrors all over the walls. Most of them were small. Some were vintage with aged metal frames or darkened bamboo frames. Some of them weren’t in the best shape, the reflective glass becoming patchy and spotted. Some were a little more than smoked glass. They were all from thrift stores or resell markets. There was no real rhyme or reason to their placement all over the living room other than chaotically aesthetic. The ones on the bookshelf unit by the window were all lined up. Unique pocket mirrors with various shapes. There were a few anime and cartoon character motifs sprinkled in.
“What the fuck…?”
He finally gave you a look slight frightened concern but mostly confusion.
You shrugged. Casually. “I like to collect mirrors.” You munched.
“No shit?” Jungkook still looked mildly appalled. He furrowed his brows to regain some sort of control over his face. “And you called me a creep.” Still, he shuffled further in, peering over them. “There’s so many of them… The fuck you need all this for?”
“Nothing.”
He shot you a look over his shoulder and quickly diverted his eyes once he noticed your exposed shoulders. “Nothing?” he echoed indignantly.
“There’s no real purpose,” you reaffirmed, grabbing another piece of gimbap with a click of your chopsticks. “Why does anyone have a collection?”
Jungkook snorted. “Collecting music albums or even plushies is less weird then…” He paused. Then angled his body slightly, as if to listen to what you had to say without directly viewing you. “Is there a reason you collect mirrors?”
You, too, stilled. Seeing the back of his head and his broad shoulders suddenly reminded you that this was the first time you had ever invited Jeon Jungkook into your space and rather impulsively at that. You faced the counter again. The gimbap was about three-fourths gone. It was probably a good idea to finish it all now. You chewed on your lower lip, debating on whether or not to tell him the reason.
“When I was young,” you said, directed to the unfinished gimbap. “I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors. Guess I had some kind of complex about them.” You didn’t elaborate. You positioned your chopsticks over another piece of the roll but didn’t yet pick it up. “When I moved in here, I didn’t really care about decorating it either. Figured it didn’t matter. At some point, I got tired of the blank walls, so I went to a secondhand shop to find something to put on the wall, and I remembered I don’t like mirrors.”
Hated them, really.
“So, I brought one because I thought the design was cool. And kept buying them.”
You half-laughed, mirthlessly.
“I decided it’s stupid to hate something like that, anyway,” you muttered, and chomped down another piece. You should have gotten out the soy sauce. Hah. With self-exasperation, you opened a cabinet to take out the small glass dispenser. Poured a little on the edge of the tray to dip the last few pieces in.
“That’s cool.”
His voice seemed louder, somehow. “You called me a creep,” you hummed.
“I didn’t call you a creep,” Jungkook said behind you.
You turned around, bristling. He was distracted, looking around your relatively neat kitchen. Probably taking note that there were no mirrors here. You restricted your collection to the living room walls to prevent overbuying. His eyes stopped at the gimbap on the counter at waist height. His dark eyes raised. Tentative. Your pulse accelerated a bit. You kept your expression neutral, chewing slowly.
“Thought you needed a smoke?” you asked after swallowing. You waved your chopstick towards the bedroom. “Be my guest.”
The tips of his ears flushed pink. He was sort of looking at you but also not. You tried not to notice that his navy hoodie had fallen off his shoulder, revealing his defined, tattooed right arm all the way to his elbow. His hands were shoved into the side pockets of his sweatpants. He was in the middle of scrutinizing yours.
“Are those mine?” Jungkook asked, completely ignoring your question.
You flicked the side seam by your thigh. “I’ll wash them and give them back. Seemed pointless to wear them for only a short while and wash immediately.” You leaned against the counter. “I haven’t forgotten. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”
His eyes shot up to your face at your comment. You shared a glare. Both of you held it more out of stubbornness than intimidation. For what reason, you weren’t sure. There were only parts of him you disliked. Not all of him. Well. Maybe if you and him dialed back the hostility, then.
Both of you broke eye contact at the same time.
“They… They look good on you.” It wasn’t said in a sarcastic way. The sincerity was somehow more alarming. “Keep them.”
“No thanks,” you retorted with more familiarity than you intended. “I don’t need your charity.” You shouldn’t have said that.
It didn’t end up mattering, though.
“Do you remember when I called you a couple nights ago?” Jungkook suddenly blurted, thrusting you both into whiplash of conversation topic change.
You froze.
There was no cue to tell you what was the right thing to say. It was best to glance at his expression to find out, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to. There was something about the distance of a phone call that made deep conversations easier. But you realized from his abruptness that he, too, must have been struggling to bring up the elephant in the room. Could have let it sleep, but this guy wouldn’t let it be.
Still, you understood him.
You pursed your lips and rubbed your collarbone with your free hand. “Only one of us was drunk and it wasn’t me,” you finally sighed. Raised your head.
His ears were very red now. You saw Jungkook battle between being a smartass and his natural self. You saw him wish he was a natural smartass. He cleared his throat, his chest tensing. “Uh… Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sorry about… Calling so late.” He cleared his throat again despite his discomfort being purely emotional. His eyes shifted. “I didn’t think you’d answer… But you did.” He chanced a glimpse at your reaction.
You shrugged.
Casually.
He nodded quickly even though you hadn’t said anything. “I don’t remember everything I said,” he rambled in a tone that clearly indicated he did. “So, don’t, uh, don’t take it too seriously.” He was taller than you but it didn’t feel like that right now.
You considered his words and quietly replied with, “Okay.”
His eyes drifted to the kitchen counter. Lingered on your waist, but not for long. He ticked his chin towards the leftovers. “Can I have a piece?”
Wordlessly, you held out the chopsticks so he had access to the other, unused end. He hesitated. Then pulled a hand from his pocket. You moved out of the way as he retrieved the chopsticks from your grip and took a step to be closer to the counter.
It was weird.
Standing in your small kitchen next to Jeon Jungkook eating your dinner leftovers.
Mostly it was weird because it didn’t make you highly uncomfortable or positively annoyed. It felt normal, which is what made it otherworldly odd. As if you were getting used to his presence beside you. You winced and tried not to make it obvious. You heard him try to say your name between bites.
“Chew your food,” you muttered, angling your face away but not your body. Couldn’t bring yourself to watch him eat. You heard the rattle of the plastic tray against the counter as he dipped in the soy sauce. Then you felt a nudge by your arm.
Before you could stop your natural reaction, you were face-to-face with Jungkook who was holding out the last piece to you with full cheeks and an expectant expression. You blinked at him. The blunt end of the chopsticks was used, but he was holding out the gimbap with the slender side. The end you had been eating with. The seaweed glistened with soy sauce. His free hand was under the chopsticks, cradling air in the dire last resort that it fell. He roughly swallowed, looking more annoyed with each passing second.
“Open up.”
“No,” you automatically replied.
He rolled his eyes. “Come on.”
You made a face. “This is weird.”
He made a face back. Disturbing. “Shut up and open your mouth.”
“I wo–”
That was precisely the moment Jungkook shoved the chopsticks into your mouth. Instinctively, you lowered your jaw to catch it all, glaring at him. He scowled back, about to remove the chopsticks before you caught them in your teeth with your mouth full of tuna, vegetables, and rice. There was a brief, pointless tug of war before you pulled your head back rather than let him perform the action. Jungkook squinted at you, irritated, and you were just as perturbed, chewing decidedly before swallowing.
Sudden silence.
He lowered the chopsticks to balance them on the empty tray. You ran your tongue over your teeth to catch any rice stragglers. It became hard to maintain eye contact. Now he was facing the cabinets and you were facing the living room of mirrors. Minutes ticked by.
The quiet became violent.
You whipped your head to Jungkook. “So, what–”
He spoke at the same time. “You know I’m not joking, right?” he asked softly.
His profile was statuesque. Instantly recognizable. Imprinted in memory. And then his dark eyes shifted, his black hair framing his temples, and now Jungkook was searching for your eyes that remained on him. You shut your mouth. He realized he had interrupted you.
“What did you want to say?”
You faltered and then shook your head. “Not important.”
His brows furrowed. “Don’t–”
“Joking about what?” you interjected. “Don’t try to distract me.”
He was, rightfully, irate. “You–”
You wrapped an arm around your midsection, suddenly feeling cold. “Is this about you quitting smoking?”
Immediately he noticed. Your demeanor demanding him to answer was a little too intense to be ignored, though. “That’s…” He tutted, his voice deepening slightly. “I’ve already quit.” You raised an eyebrow. “What?” He was trying to unconvincingly convince you. It had barely been a couple weeks, anyway. ‘Ugh, okay, fine. Maybe I bummed a cig a couple of times. But only for a couple puffs. Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Jungkook snapped. “Like you don’t have any bad habits.”
“I have bad habits,” you answered coldly. “But I also deal with how I feel. Something you should get started on.”
He threw up his hands and began to back away from the counter, until.
“Is this how you want to spend your life?” you asked.
His back was to you now. Reluctance took over, rendering his movements as statuesque as he looked moments before. You stared at his back, wondering if you had gone too far. Wondering if these shared moments were all for naught. Not really in the very real chance that he could leave and never look back, but in the very real chance that he did and nothing changed for him. Or for you. In the chance that your interactions would ultimately mean nothing in this life when it was very clear that both of you wanted to mean something. Anything.
“I don’t.”
You looked up and Jungkook was looking back at you over his shoulder. He lowered his gaze when your eyes connected before half-turning to face you, halfway between running to and running from. You asked yourself, if it was anyone else, would you stay this silent? Before it registered, you reached out and tugged his hoodie sleeve.
After all, you did always have a light for him.
He raised his eyes.
“You’re trying. Aren’t you?” You gave him a dry smile before letting go.
His lashes lowered to waning half-moons. Then he ticked his head, asking, “Do you really hate it that much?” His eyes found yours. He already knew the answer and was asking it anyway.
You told him the truth. “Yeah.”
The corner of his lips flicked upwards wryly. “Damn. So honest.”
You almost laughed. “Well… You wouldn’t like me at all if you knew I was a liar.” Then your words caught up to you. “Not that you do,” you added after a beat.
“I do,” corrected Jungkook before looking away.
Maybe he was embarrassed by his admission. You, however, were preoccupied with other thoughts. The mirrors. Your insomnia. His tattoos. His cigarettes. Your coldness. His fire. The way you tended to lock down your deep emotions and the way his tended to spill out when they overflowed. You held the lighter. He longed to burn. You liked him. That thought lingered. You hated the smoking, true, not only because of all the obvious discomforts, but also because you had a feeling that he knew he could quit and only did it to further punish himself for things he didn’t do.
You just had a feeling since you, too, punished yourself for things you didn’t do.
You felt something soft brush against your shoulders.
His hoodie smelled like him, herbal and fresh with depth, with a vague hint of washed-out acid smoke. You glanced over. He looked apologetic, gesturing to your arm over your midsection. His built chest and sculpted shoulders were mildly distracting. His white tank top clung to his body, not leaving much to the imagination. You frowned. Jungkook saw your face and braced himself for a reprimanding.
You asked him a question you had been wondering for a while now.
“Did you plan this?”
That wasn’t what he expected. His features twisted into confusion. “Uh?” He seemed to forget his anxiousness for a moment. “Plan what?” The perfect deer-in-headlights look.
You angled your body to better face him and held the edge of the hoodie, narrowing your eyes. “You know what I mean,” you warned.
He sensed danger and held up his hands in defeat. “I don’t?”
Those big brown eyes begged you to believe him. Either he was stupid or a really good actor. You relaxed slightly. You weren’t banking on the latter and really hoped you were right. You grimaced, backing away. It wasn’t fair to let learned behavior judge him yet constant vigilance was also needed for survival. You sighed, stepping around him.
“Never mind. It’s late. Just sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”
“The fuck?” Jungkook followed, infuriated, much like the rest of the night. “I can’t do that.”
“The buses aren’t running this late,” you stated matter-of-factly. You waved him away, plopping onto your sofa with a tired exhale. “Or you can call a taxi, I guess. You want money for that?”
He smacked his hand down on the back of the sofa and scowled, bending down to intimidate you.
“I am not some kid!”
You looked up at him.
Jungkook froze, realizing the closeness.
He was naturally a very handsome man. You had always thought so. Never told him. He had probably heard it enough. He faltered, losing the fight but not yet letting go of the sofa. You observed the line of his jaw and thought about how hard he had to work to fulfill the image others had of him. How hard he worked to break that image, only to shoulder a different set of expectations, for only a certain level of coolness could combat the goodness he lost. If not one thing, then another. He must not have felt that he fit those ideals either. He couldn’t win.
You worried that he simply liked you in a vain attempt to feel some level of control.
Crestfallen, his eyes wandered, then realized he couldn’t because then he would be staring down your chest or at your thighs. He pretended that he wasn’t looking and raised his head, saying the first thing that came to mind.
“I feel like I don’t know you at all.”
It wasn’t so much accusatory as it was a revelation.
You lowered your gaze and realized you were staring at his chest or his crotch. That was out of the question. You almost wished he would sit down next to you, but he was right. There was a moment where you considered brushing him off as you did with everyone else. Your eyes connected. As you stared into those dark brown orbs, your instincts taunted you, asking you want you were afraid of.
“There’s nothing good to know,” you admitted. “Better to keep things to myself.”
His expression told you he fucking hated that.
He looked up to the mirrors around the room. You could see he was still a bit creeped out by them and tried very hard not to say it. Your elderly landlord did often joke about how you were inviting spirits into your home with these old mirrors. You usually countered with they also symbolized fate, to which he guffawed and asked how many fates you needed.
Sometimes, it felt like you needed every chance you could get.
“I can’t sleep in your bed,” he finally concluded, steeling himself.
“Your smokes are on my nightstand. So is my lighter.”
The door to the bedroom was partway open but Jungkook even didn’t look in that direction. His ears were slowly turning scarlet. He distracted himself with your statements. “What? Why?” He frowned. “I thought you threw ‘em away.”
You shrugged. “Seemed like a waste of money.”
He muttered under his breath. “Yeah. That’s what they are.” He looked a little ashamed. Shook his head, trying to convince himself. “Even more reason not to go in there and be tempted.” He began to step around your legs, shooing you away with a gruff, “Move.”
You didn’t move.
“You hate my bed that much even though you want to get in it?” you quipped.
Jungkook started. “That’s–”
You stood up abruptly.
It was so fast that he had no time to react. One moment you were sitting and the next you were standing right up to him with only a whisper of breath between your bodies, peering at his face. His hoodie fell off your shoulders and onto the cushions. His eyes widened, lips parting, and you witnessed him holding his breath as if that would somehow stop time.
Seconds that felt like hours ticked by.
You wondered how it would feel to be held by him.
“Fine,” you whispered, staring into his eyes. “I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow.”
And you walked around, letting him breathe again.
-
Being awake was torturous due to constantly fighting invasive thoughts. Being asleep was worse due to remaining imprisoned in those intrusive thoughts blended with uncontrolled imagination, which was your presumed explanation for your insomniac nights. Yeah. And people wondered why you kept to yourself. Such was being human, so once again you gave into the insanity of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result because it could not be avoided.
Everyone had to sleep, after all.
And you woke up a few hours later, as predicted, wrenching yourself out of a dream you didn’t want to be in, trying your best to remember none of it. You were used to it. Routine of the night, so to speak. That made it more annoying than anxiety-inducing. You laid on your back in relative silence, staring into the darkness of the ceiling and running your fingers over your sheets. A folded portion of the duvet was trapped under your left side and you impatiently yanked it out from under you, forgetting the images of betrayal in the wake of another’s selfishness.
For tonight, anyway.
There was a loud snore on the other side of your bedroom door, offending your ears at this late hour. You sat up. You had been a little surprised at Jungkook accepting your offer. Then again, everything was happening because of split decisions and obvious desires. And some logic. Just not much. You hadn’t talked much after you handed him the extra pillow from your bed and a soft fuzzy blanket. There wasn’t much to talk about, not to mention both of you were trying to pretend as if this wasn’t happening. In movies and television shows, this would have gone in a whole different direction. In reality, it was a lot more awkward and untimely.
You glanced over to the nightstand that held his cigarettes and your lighter, barely making out the outlines of the items. Maybe his initial intention really was to come just to get them. Or maybe it was to put you in a compromising position or something like that. Neither of those things happened because neither of those things were who he was, only ideas of what he thought he could be, but he hadn’t thought any of it through, so now he was snoring up a storm on your sofa without a care in the world.
Unlike you, it seemed like his sleep was solace rather than a battleground.
You tapped a finger against the bed and then sighed, pulling yourself out from under the duvet to grab a large t-shirt to pull over your head. Headed to the bedroom door and opened it quietly, slipping out to the kitchen accompanied by Jungkook’s noisy and uncoordinated nose symphony. He was facing the inside of the sofa but, unfortunately for you and fortunately for him, had powerful lungs. There wasn’t much worry about rousing him. You opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water, hoping the cool liquid could refresh you somehow.
You faced the sink and took a few sips.
Was friendship even the correct word for what you and Jeon Jungkook had? It was more closeness from coincidence rather than a direct seeking out of the other. Closeness that became closer before either of you realized it, slowly losing all the people in between until only you and him were left. Maybe that was why he had a sort of fixation on you since everyone had distanced themselves for various reasons, relationships, careers, adventures. Then again, fixation seemed to be his defining feature.
You almost snorted, and would have if he wasn’t sleeping on your couch.
But maybe not, as he had paradoxical, flighty tendencies too. Always influenced by someone or some media he consumed. You weren’t without your own flaws, you knew. Deep thought and constant existential crisis didn’t exactly make for good company. Sometimes it was better not to think so much, which was why you tried to fight your instinctive nature at times. You looked over to the mirrors on the living room walls, taking another drink. They were small, not very useful as a looking glass or for nitpicking an outfit before leaving. You had not been lying when you told Jungkook that you bought them to get over your hatred of them. There was a time when you hated seeing your reflection because the person in the mirror wasn’t matching up with the person in your head.
Irrational, yes.
Reality was irrational.
You rested your ass against the bottom cabinets of your kitchen and sipped from the water bottle. You knew you weren’t a good person since you had long given up aspiring for something great. Anyone worth anything aspired for something great. Not even failure was frowned upon the in the presence of a dream nowadays. You didn’t understand why Jungkook was snoring in your apartment right now, why he cared if you got home in one piece, why he was trying so hard to quit smoking for someone like you who lived in irreverence. South Korea valued productivity, beauty, and giving away one’s humanity for the cause. Not giving a fuck made you no better than the bottom of the barrel.
You couldn’t answer what he so heavily hinted at because it just didn’t make any sense.
Maybe he was just dumb.
Jungkook snored particularly loud and choked, throwing himself into a coughing fit.
You frowned and made your way over to him as he shrimped up and groaned, highly displeased and groggy from this turn of events. There was no obvious reaction to you approaching him. Either he didn’t hear you or didn’t register where he was.
You placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Nrgh…”
“You alright?” You kept your voice low, a level above a whisper. “Want some water?”
He said your name as if underwater. Muffled and out of it. You pulled your hand away as he turned over and sat up, squinting hard. “Uh?” He was still wearing his tank top which was now wrinkled around his waist. The top of his chest glistened with sweat. He probably usually slept shirtless and didn’t do so to be polite.
You held out the plastic bottle in your hand. “Water.”
He wasn’t thinking straight because he grabbed the bottle from you without objection, as if he wholeheartedly accepted you were the cold-water fairy of his dreams. He drank without so much of a thank you and with his lips right against the opening, crushing the latter half of what was left in only a few seconds.
“Uwah…!”
He dropped his hand, breathing out hard. You glanced at your empty hand. Comtemplated on giving him a reality check of what he just did but instead decided to let it go.
“Uh… Why are you awake?” he asked you blearily, becoming more awake by the second.
Some truths were better left unsaid for now. “Getting used to your snoring,” you mused, dropping your hand.
Jungkook seemed embarrassed. Looked from the water bottle to the coffee table behind your legs. The distance was too great for it to be casual. He clung onto it for emotional safety. “S-Sorry about that,” he mumbled, straightening his tank top and rubbing his neck.
“It’s probably a side effect of your smoking,” you commented.
He shot you an angry pout but there was no retort when you were right. “It’s probably my rhinitis,” he huffed. An uncomfortable, short silence.
Once again, both of you were reminded of a late-night call in the dead of night.
You held out your hand for the water bottle. After a moment, Jungkook handed it back. Apparently, it still hadn’t occurred to him why it was half-empty. He seemed more curious about you being awake. You wondered that too. You gestured to the pillow.
“It’s not comfortable, is it?”
He followed your gesture and half-heartedly shrugged. “I’ll be okay.” He shot you a look. “Worried about me?” His deep, sleepy voice sounded a lot cockier than he looked. He looked like a puppy that had just woken up after napping in a weird position. His black hair was sticking up every which way.
“I’m always worried about you,” you replied with a deadpan face.
His eyes widened.
You followed up with, “You’re an idiot.”
That pissed Jungkook off. He reached up to smack you and you caught his hand in the air. That woke him up. But honestly you were losing sleep and energy fast. It made you catch his fingers at an odd angle, almost a caress, and you were too tired to care, sighing before backing away, slowly letting go of his hand. His fingertips slid over the inside of your wrist. You turned your back to him.
You headed to the kitchen and tossed the bottle in the proper recycling bin.
He called your name.
“What?” you grumpily replied, straightening.
“You’re not wearing pants…” Jungkook reminded you.
You had to bend over to access the sorted trash. “Lucky you.”
His tone became gruff. “Don’t be so reckless in front of a guy.”
You half-turned and raised an eyebrow. He was still firmly seated on your sofa. “You act like I’m not standing in my kitchen next to my knives,” you pointed out, ticking your head in the direction of your knife block. “Also, are you implying that you’re a trashy guy?”
“I’m not a trashy guy,” he snapped angrily.
“Then what do I have to be worried about?” You took the steps towards your bedroom door.
“I just don’t like how you obviously have no interest in me,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, throwing himself down onto the sofa and turning his back to you.
You stopped in the doorway.
He was not provoking you. He sounded more like a kid that didn’t get his way rather than an adult trying to reverse psychology you. His words were not meant to change your mind. Yet, all of a sudden, you began to wonder what the fuck you were dancing in this limbo for. All because you didn’t want to be someone’s reason for anything? Well, congratulations, you failed. You failed your dream of a pointless existence. Woohoo. You rolled your eyes to the sky and turned around.
He was still pill-bug-positioned when you grabbed his shoulder and yanked him from the cease in the sofa, lowering your head to hiss, “Stop being a fucking brat.”
You expected him to tense up. His head jerked around and Jungkook stared at you. Wide-eyed, as if you had just pulled him out of a top hat by his ears. You glared, physically tired and tired of this shit, sliding your hand down his collarbone and cupping his chin, pulling him to better face you, tilting your head to narrow your eyes at him.
He sputtered. “W… What?”
“You heard me,” you answered in a clipped tone. “Get up.”
“Huh?”
You let go of his chin and slapped his upper arm. “Get up.”
In a tangle of long limbs and bewilderment, you yanked him up by his forearm, snatching the pillow from under him. Dragged him and his twisted blanket skirt into your bedroom. You hadn’t given him enough time to unravel himself. You let go of his forearm and slammed the pillow onto the empty right side of the bed, pointing rudely to the rumpled poof.
“Lay down,” you ordered.
Jungkook waved his hands, panic rising in his gravelly voice. “I can’t–”
“I don’t give a fuck,” you interrupted and marched behind him, shoving the small of his back. He got the hint after a short flailing about, shuffling towards the side of the bed before flopping onto the duvet like a caught tuna. He tried not to make eye contact, but you weren’t looking anyway, too busy crossing over to the other side and slinking under the duvet.
He squeaked out an, “Um…”
“Shut up,” was your automatic grumble. “Go to sleep.”
He answered in a small voice. “But… What if I snore…?”
“I know you’ll snore,” you grunted, reaching to him and pinning his shoulder down. He was above the duvet, half-wrapped in the blanket you had given him earlier. You had noticed he was still wearing his gray sweatpants so he wasn’t indecent. Not that it mattered. “I’ll get used to it.”
“I…”
You made a growling noise in warning, squinting at his face.
He gulped. “I just… Wanted to say thanks…”
You let go of him and turned your back, firmly closing your eyes. Jungkook was right there. You had a queen-sized bed. Big enough, but not so big that he could pull himself far away from you. You could feel his presence. It wasn’t a bad thing, though.
“You’re welcome,” you mumbled curtly and didn’t say any more.
-
When he opened the door, he looked disheveled and distractable, noisily chewing gum, jerking his head around your periphery as if he expected you to bring an entourage to shake him down. You stood at his doorstep, perturbed. His dark eyes flickered to you and nearly bulged out of his head.
“The hell are you wearing?” Jeon Jungkook blurted without any formal or informal greeting.
You thought you would be used to it by now. It was becoming kind of funny, in a way. “These are my work clothes,” you calmly explained. It was true that he hadn’t seen you in a nice silk blouse and fitted pencil skirt before. Dark teal and jet black, respectively. “I have a job I go to.”
This was the logical answer but it was not exactly the answer Jungkook wanted. You could tell by the knitting of his brows, his still open mouth, and the way he was just staring at your hips instead of continuing the conversation. His black hair was sticking up in the back. As usual, he was wearing casual clothes. A big, light gray t-shirt and charcoal sweats.
You raised your hand and shut his jaw so you didn’t have to view his half-chewed pink gum. “You’re going to the gym, aren’t you?”
It broke him out of his trance. He looked irritated, chewing again. More than that. He looked jittery. “Yeah.” He seemed to be having a mental debate. You wanted no part of that. “I was about to drink a protein shake while waiting for you.”
“Cool,” you said in an impassive tone that indicated you had no interest in protein shakes. You reached into your mid-size black leather bag and pulled out his black sweatpants, now clean and smelling of dryer sheet. “Here, then.” You lifted your head to hold them out.
Jungkook had abandoned his front door.
A muscle in your cheek twitched. His apartment was more modern, although about the same size as yours. Space was a luxury. The door was slowly closing without the aid of someone holding it. You smacked your palm against the light wood and pushed it open, your black heels clicking on the dark gray hardwood. Or was it vinyl? Hard to tell and you didn’t care to inspect. The walls were bright cool white. His big black backpack was on the floor of the short entrance hall. It was slightly open. Black boxing gloves with yellow accents and white towels were shoved in there. You expected him to be messy but all of his sneakers were lined up against the wall. Could use a shoe rack, though.
Jungkook reappeared, gum-less this time, carrying a shake tumbler with a vanilla-colored substance in it, clanging it about with one hand and trying to be chill. As chill as a nonchalant freak-out would be.
He coughed and asked, casually, “You go dressed like that to work?”
You weren’t sure why he gave a shit about what you were wearing. “Perks of an administrative desk job. Dress code.” You waved the rolled-up sweatpants in his direction. “Take these.”
He gave you a suspicious look as if you were the one to decide societal expectations for female office wear. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“The HR department,” you replied, deadpan. “I’d get fired if I showed up to work dressed like you.”
He nodded, agreeing but not convinced. “What if someone hits on you?”
“I set them on fire.”
Jungkook gawked at you.
You dropped your outstretched arm and clicked your tongue. “I don’t do anything. No one is allowed to date a co-worker and I’m not interested in any of them,” you explained. If only he knew that you sat alone in a cramped office and reviewed budgeting for university laboratories so no one was heedlessly using government funding. It was thrilling stuff. “Why do you care if someone hits on me?”
His eyes narrowed. “Of course, I care. I don’t want some asshole harassing you.” Before you could tell him to look in the mirror, he muttered, “Do you really think you won’t get hurt looking that hot?”
The real answer was that you didn’t care.
You tossed his sweatpants onto his backpack while saying, “Workplace harassment is very serious. I doubt my superiors want a scandal. You’re right. I’m considered attractive, so they want to keep me as a model employee and for gender equality points.”
“What about the train?” Jungkook pressed, stepping closer.
You almost rolled your eyes. “The subway is always shitty. Everybody knows that,” you said. “I’ve been taking the subway since high school. I’m pretty good at spotting psycho now.” You looked up at him with contained venom. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know that,” he snapped, placing his protein shake on the floor before confronting you again. “I just don’t like it.” He glared back.
You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like that I can take care of myself?”
“No,” Jungkook stubbornly repeated. Frustration crept into his features. “It makes me mad.”
One look at his face and it was obvious what he was implying. There was no reason to give in, though. “That sucks.” You patted the top of his chest condescendingly. “Maybe you need to see a therapist for that.”
He jerked his head towards the mound on his backpack. “Take the pants back and put them on.”
You wondered if he was being this way because he had paranoia or because he had nothing better to do. “No,” you refused. You crossed your arms. “Don’t be this way only for yourself. Plus, I just washed them.”
Like an ox, he didn’t relent. “Then I’ll get you a different pair.”
You noticed you didn’t smell the scent of smoke on him. Not strong or faint. It was obvious he didn’t smoke in his apartment, but he probably did at the roof of the complex or somewhere similar. You didn’t know him to be a heavy smoker, but it inevitably got onto his belongings. You tilted your head. There hadn’t been any smell that night a couple weeks ago when he slept over at your apartment where you had eventually forced him to snore on the bed.
You had woken up to Jungkook sprawled out, snoring into the pillow and one arm on your tits.
Explained your dream where you felt annoying pressure on your chest. That morning had been rather uneventful other than waking him up and kicking him out of your apartment. You had the decency to be more polite than that, but neither of you were in a state to talk about it. Neither of you seemed to be morning people. You simply told him you had work. He had mumbled he did too, and he had to race out to get ready in time. Only now had you found time to stop by his apartment to return his borrowed sweatpants. Maybe you had been avoiding it a little bit. Texts between you both were sparse. Asking for his address and asking if he’d be home. You peered into his dark eyes. Jungkook paused. He seemed to sense that you weren’t walling him anymore.
“When was the last time you smoked?” You made sure not to sound accusatory.
He started. “Uh…” He looked sheepish. “I’ve been trying to last a month at least…” He gestured behind him to what you assumed was the kitchen. You could see part of his living room from here but not much. His couch was cognac brown leather. “Been chewing gum and going to the gym a bunch to fight the cravings.” Frowned and sighed. “It’s hard,” Jungkook bitterly muttered. He glared. “Bet you’re loving this.”
Unluckily for him, you weren’t intimidated by puppy growls. You nodded, noncommittal, and looked down. His charcoal sweatpants looked soft. Worn in with wear. Your eyes flickered back up. His followed with slight confusion etching into his expression. You held his gaze until you felt his discomfort.
And then you made an impulsive, instinctive decision.
“I’ll agree to borrowing another pair of your pants,” you finally said. He looked relieved. “As long as I get to pick which pair.”
He seemed puzzled but shrugged. “Sure?”
You pressed for confirmation. “Agree or not?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jungkook responded sharply. “What, you that desperate to raid my closet or something? Go ahead, then.” He waved a careless hand into the apartment.
But you stayed where you were. You stepped forward with a click of your heels. He stepped back in his house slippers, bewildered but still defiant, not yet realizing that you were not herding him further inside. He moved as if to let you lead the way, except you turned your body to block him, watching his every move.
His shoulder blades hit the wall.
Those big brown eyes blinked slowly. “Uh…”
You glanced down and then back up at his face.
Jungkook’s eyes tracked your movement. Didn’t get it. You repeated the dip of your chin and lashes, then back up. Dead silence. It slowly dawned onto him. You cocked your head, removing your crossed arms as his eyes became wider.
“W… What…?”
You didn’t let him hide his reaction, tracking every quiver of his lip and awkward chuckle. “They’re clean, aren’t they?” you asked as if it was the most sensible question in the world.
“Uh, well, yeah, b-but…” Jungkook stuttered, trying to decipher how serious you were or if he was even understanding the implications of your stare. “T-That’s…”
You backed up a step. “Then it’s a no?” you offered. “And you will stop trying to white knight my outfit choices?” You made yourself clear. “I won’t be changing them simply because you hate my clothes.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t hate your clothes. I like them. That is the problem,” he barked.
You gave him a blank look.
Jungkook sighed out of his nose before looking away and saying in a clipped tone, “Fine. I’ll change. Whatever.”
You moved before he could, blocking his way again.
He growled under his breath, glaring down. “What?”
You held aggressive eye contact. “We’re behind closed doors,” you reminded him. Gave him the pointed up-and-down. “Go on.”
Slight panic laced into his expression. “Uh… Are you serious?”
You already knew Jungkook wasn’t commenting on your fashion because he thought it was inappropriate. It was for the same innocuous reason that you were asking him for the charcoal sweatpants he was wearing right now. Well. Demanding.
“Deadly,” you answered him with a deadly smile.
He might be bigger and stronger than you, but he lacked the imposing audacity. You waited. He didn’t move. Ten full seconds passed. You had your answer, then. You gave him a curt nod and readjusted your grip on your work bag, about to turn away.
A strong hand wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled you back.
You backtracked to stand in front of him again. His eyes darted about somewhat nervously. “I get it…” he mumbled, still holding onto your wrist. His other hand was drifting down. He seemed uncomfortable but not in a bad way, which struck you as odd. He lifted the hem of his shirt a bit. It caught on the front tie of the sweatpants. The tips of his ears were pink. Jungkook hooked a thumb under the waistband and averted his eyes.
You reached forward and pulled on the end of the looped strings.
He nearly yelped and jerked back, causing the tie to come unraveled. You had leaned over a little to get access. Lifted your gaze to look up at his shocked face. He was speechless. You didn’t straighten up yet. Just stared into his eyes. His lips parted but no words came out.
You smiled.
He uneasily let go of your wrist. You backed out of his personal space. Jungkook gave you a strange look and stripped off his pants with a swift tug downwards, bending a knee to kick them up and into his hand, immediately holding them in front of his body.
“Here.”
He thrust the balled-up sweats into your chest. You looked at it. Then at him. Then tried to crane your head downwards.
“H-Hey!”
He waved wildly. You stumbled. He tried to catch you without dropping anything. Your hand came up to press against his chest, causing him to back against the wall again, clutching his pants in front of his crotch. You paused and searched his expression as you pulled back your hand. He was in between conflicted and stunned. His legs were quite defined. At least he didn’t skip leg day. You decided to do it. Lowered your bag to the floor so you had use of your two hands. You reached behind you for the invisible zipper of your skirt and pulled it down. Jungkook seemed to be in a perpetual state of silence. You had to wiggle slightly to free yourself of the tube of black fabric, stepping out of it primly before standing back up, leaving you in your sheer black stockings and with your blouse barely skimming the tops of your thighs.
Now both of you were holding your bottoms. One of you was simply dumbstruck. The other folded and rolled up the skirt, tucking it into your elbow, and stepped up to him. Immediately, his free hand shot up, planting right above your left breast, dark tattoos stark against his tan skin from the overhead light.
“W-Whoa, wait…!”
You tilted your head and rested your hand on the sweatpants he was now desperately clutching to his lower body. You tugged. He did not let go. You raised an eyebrow and began to lower your head. His fingertips hooked under your chin and yanked you back up to his terrified expression of wild eyes and fish mouth. You remained emotionless, giving him nothing. His cheeks flushed pink.
“I… I just need a second–”
You closed more of the distance, placing a leg in between his slightly open ones. His grip on your chin tightened. It didn’t scare you in the slightest. In contrast, big bad Jungkook looked like he was about to sink into the floor. You stilled. Maybe this was too far.
You leaned back a little but didn’t remove your leg. “A second for what?”
He swallowed hard, averting his gaze again. “U-Uh, j-j-just a s-second to breathe… that’s all,” he muttered.
“What’s the issue?” you calmly inquired.
“N-Nothing,” and that sounded like a whole lot of something.
You shifted your leg and your stocking-covered shin rubbed against his calf. Jungkook made a very strange noise and hastily pulled his hand back. You did not stop the contact. You simply watched the emotions play across his features as he shut his eyes, wordlessly mouthing swears before clenching his jaw and sliding up the wall to delicately back up.
“You sure it’s nothing?” Twice as unassuming and immediately tipping him off that you were aware of his predicament.
His brows furrowed. “Shut up.” He took in several deep breaths.
You hummed. “Is it that big of a deal?”
“Yes, it is,” Jungkook hissed. He cracked open one eye. “Have you no sense of danger?”
You did your best not to smile. Failed, but only just. “Not with you.”
Relief and annoyance washed over him. “Shut up,” he said again and you were beginning to realize he did not really mean for you to shut up. “Ugh.” He thrust the charcoal ball of fabric into your chest. “Here. Put it on.”
“No longer embarrassed?” you asked, catching a glimpse of his partial erection.
Jungkook pointedly looked away from you and stared at his own front door. “I’m not embarrassed. Put the pants on, damnnit. I can’t look at you.”
“Sure, you can,” you quipped as you slipped on his sweatpants. “I’m sure you’ve checked me out at some point.”
He sucked in the side of his cheek sharply. “It’s not the same. And, besides…” He trailed off.
You smoothed out the front and tightened the strings. Jungkook reluctantly brought his gaze back to you, checking you out. You tugged your blouse out of the pants a bit to give the two disharmonious pieces more balance. You filled out the top of his pants a bit more because of your ass. The whole ensemble was a little odd, but only if one looked too closely.
He frowned. “Why do you look good?”
“It’s the heels,” you absentmindedly replied. “Besides, what?”
For a moment, you thought Jungkook wasn’t going to respond. But then his eyes raised, locking to yours determinedly. “If I can make it to a month, then…” He faltered before regaining his composure. “No, I will make it to a month. And all the rest. But when you see how serious I am, then… Then I want you to seriously consider me.”
Now it was your turn to avert your eyes. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Guilt settled as you realized that he was more intuitive than you gave him credit for. But you came back to him, eventually. His dark brown orbs lit up as you spoke.
“Sure.”
-
In a surprising turn of events, Jeon Jungkook actually greeted you with a breathless, “Hey,” for once when you answered his call, only to follow that up with, “The fuckin’ gym is closed, fuck.”
You blinked at your phone, put it on speaker, and tucked it into one of your upper kitchen cabinets to prop it up. It was not a video call. However, your hands were currently occupied. “I’m sorry,” you replied dryly, turning down the vent fan.
“Ugh, I really needed it today,” he grumbled, mostly at himself rather than at you. You heard the sounds of traffic and the white noise of wind. “And it’s cold tonight, hmph.”
You mentally calculated the day as you picked up the plate and tongs again. “Why was it closed? It’s not a holiday as far as I know.”
“I dunno. Note on the door said family emergency, so I guess I’ll find out later from the manager,” he said absentmindedly. It was a bit weird that Jungkook was treating this like small talk when he almost never called. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do or say about his predicament, so you began to place the slices of meat onto the hot pan, which immediately began loudly sizzling with popping oil. It must have picked up on the microphone. You heard a startled noise and then, “Whatchu doing?”
“Making dinner. And meal prepping at the same time, since I’m already cooking,” you replied, nudging the slices to fit all the meat in. Hm. Wouldn’t be the first time. Hm.
“What are you making?” He was sounding a bit too eager.
“Braised vegetables and pan-fried samgyeopsal,” you answered, reminding yourself to check under the lid. The bok choy and enoki mushrooms were just barely done. You quickly removed it from the heat before returning it the sizzling pork belly.
“Ugh.” He sounded jealous. “I’m jealous.” Guess he was. You found yourself smiling and quickly stopped, lightly adding a little flaky salt before starting the process of turning them over. You might die from a heart attack but not without a full belly of pork belly. “You’ve made me hungry. Maybe I’ll go get some ice cream.”
You mused. “Gym closed, so ice cream on a cool night is the solution?” The edges of pork belly were becoming that sweet golden caramel. Your kitchen was becoming decadently fragrant.
“This night is shit, anyway,” Jungkook complained. “I’d come over but you’d kick me out.”
You paused at his words. Then you busied yourself with taking the plate to the sink while raising your voice so he could hear you. “I didn’t kick you out last time.”
There was a short muteness that your both mutually agreed on before he sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. I’ll go home without the ice cream.”
You tutted. “I’m not the food police. Go get your ice cream if you want to.” You began to portion out the vegetables into the glass tupperware that you had already lined up.
“Nah,” he muttered. He really enjoyed this seesaw, huh. To be honest, you didn’t mind it. Maybe calling it fun too out of line, but. “I shouldn’t go into the convenience store, anyway. I don’t wanna break my streak.”
Only stubbornness could solidify self-restraint, it seemed. You checked the pork belly. It was done, so you turned off the fire and began to plate up your soon-to-be and future meals. Took less time because you had boiled the samgyeopsal first to keep the meat tender, removed it before it was completely cooked through, sliced it, and then pan-fried to completion. You plated the last of the vegetables, added the final helping of pork belly, and drizzled a bit of soybean paste on top. A small part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Jungkook. Rub it in, perhaps. You picked up your phone and opened the camera app.
“Hey.”
“Uh?”
You filled the photo space with a close-up shot of your simple meal and sent it to him. “Check your messages.”
There was a scuffle and Jungkook grunted before gasping and then bringing his phone back to his ear. “Hey, fuck you.”
You couldn’t help it. You laughed.
“Man… You suck.” He didn’t know the half of it. He was mumbling a tantrum on the street. “Ugh, now I’m so hungry... And mad. I’m mad at you.”
In between tee-hees and bites of your dinner, you placed your phone onto the counter. “If you buy me lunch, I’ll let you have one of mine,” you joked. Mmm, the meat was cooked just right. You mentally patted yourself on the back.
“No… I can’t do that,” he grumbled, taking your joke seriously. He scoffed. “Instead, I’ll bring a steak and make you cook it for me.”
“Steak?” You considered his suggestion. “Sure, I can cook steak.”
“Hah, see, you won’t – wait…” You heard a sputter and what sounded like a tumble. Or maybe the beginnings of one caught in the middle. He did have good reflexes. “O… Oh.” He sounded winded. “I thought you were… Thought you were gonna refuse.”
You nibbled on some delicious enoki mushroom. “Why?” You knew full well why. Just wanted to make him squirm. Also, him thinking you couldn’t cook a steak annoyed you. As if you didn’t know the value of medium rare. Hmph.
“A-Ah… Well.” He coughed and promptly changed the subject as embarrassed people do. “Are you eating right now?”
“Mhm,” you hummed. “It’s very tasty. I did a good job.”
You could him suck in an inhale of childish disappointment. “I’m suffering here.”
“No one is asking you to.”
“Hmmmm, I don’t like this.” And yet he stayed on the line. It sounded like he was jogging the streets. Maybe trying to arrive home faster and keep his body temperature up.
You imagined it. Then you told yourself to stop that. “Do you have something to eat at home?”
“There’s probably something,” Jungkook puffed. “Probably not as good, but I’ve got freezer stuff. I can cook, though,” he insisted.
You hadn’t questioned it. But you did now. “Hm, really?” You half-smiled in between bites of bok choy.
“Yes, really.” Very adamant. “Someday,” he added, in the tone of someday proving it.
You remembered the last time he was in your kitchen. The last time he was in your apartment. You looked down to the cropped black t-shirt and the familiar charcoal sweatpants you were wearing. The scene was set. Still, it didn’t clarify how to feel about it. Answers were usually simple. Believing them was a different story. He called your name. Without thinking, you answered right away.
“Mhm?”
“I’m home,” Jungkook grunted.
Maybe you supposed to pop confetti. You let it go and asked, “Less angry about your lack of gym time?”
“Not really.” But he did sound less stressed somehow. Maybe it was the cardio of the jog. “I guess I gotta find something to eat now. Lemme put you on speaker.”
The number of times he could have hung up increased. And yet he hadn’t done so yet. You were almost finished eating. You could have ended the call right now. Said you were busy and done your chores without further distraction. It just didn’t feel right. That said enough. Well, at the very least, you thought you should accompany him on his food adventure.
He exclaimed loudly. “Ah! I found some corn ice cream at the bottom of my freezer! Nice!”
Your palm made contact with your forehead. “I guess you must be the gods’ lucky one,” you mused, mopping up your last bite. Time to clear the kitchen. Sad.
“You know it,” he cheered.
You heard him ripping open the plastic with gusto. Would have sounded cocky if it wasn’t for his barely audible happy noises. You began to tidy up the kitchen to distract yourself. Putting away spices, collecting the various cooking utensils into the sink, wiping down counters, putting the lids on the now cooled-down meals. You stacked them in the fridge. You didn’t try to hide what you were doing but, then again, Jungkook was seemingly too mesmerized by his ice cream to speak. Amidst your domestic tasks, you saw the parallels of being in the same place in your respective apartments, both together and apart at the same time with only a thread of technology connecting each other, and you glanced at your phone screen, wondering if he had hung up on you. The call was still active.
Such a mundane existence.
And yet.
You stood by your sink, the washing up the last to do, and you abandoned it to stand by your phone. It seemed so… annoying to have simple enjoyments taken away by complicated thoughts. Maybe there was a better word for it. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that you were listening to Jungkook enjoying his small happiness of the day and wondered if he intentionally or unintentionally shared it with you. Wondered if the intention even mattered in the face of what was.
You broke the relative silence. “When do you want me to cook that steak for you?”
The faint sound of licking lips. He must have scooted closer to his phone, because the volume of his words was louder than the sounds from earlier. “Uh…” You waited. “I think my one month of no cigarettes is coming up soon. Maybe then…?” He trailed off awkwardly.
The crumpled pack was still on your nightstand next to your lighter. You hadn’t touched either. They were collectively collecting dust. You opened your mouth, reconsidered, and then said what was on your mind.
“I never hated you just because you smoked.”
Maybe it was better that you couldn’t see each other. “Yeah, but…” He let out a breath. “It was the reason why you didn’t want to be around me.”
You couldn’t deny it.
“I get it, though,” Jungkook muttered softly. “I didn’t really want to be around myself either. Maybe I haven’t had any great failures, but… That means I haven’t had a chance to grow from hardships. Coasting, sort of. I need to push myself to be better, because I’m definitely not where I’m supposed to be.”
Your eyes raised which caused you to realize you had dipped your head. You wondered who put those thoughts in his head, but the answer was all around you. In the subtext of conversation of strangers, friends, family.
“It’s weird,” he continued, maybe forgetting you could hear him slurp in between words or because his ice cream was rapidly melting. “I was talking to a friend about you and he asked me if you ever needed anything from me, ever.” He sucked in a breath. “Tch. I kinda hate that, but also it made me realize… Isn’t that the most natural I’ve ever been with anyone? No expectations… Maybe even negative.” He laughed a little, and you could imagine him shaking his head. “Is this how you want to spend your life? No. I want to be someone that you might need someday.”
You didn’t say anything about him talking about you to other people. It was slightly funny of him to think of you as an enigma when you felt that you were so simple, really. Maybe that made you the root of his complicated thoughts. Maybe not. He was right in that you did your best to not depend on others, even going out of you way to not need others. Not expecting anything from them to not be disappointed. You didn’t see that changing anytime soon, but, an exception?
All rules had them.
“I’m looking forward to making you that steak,” you chuckled. “I need to finish up the dishes, so I’ll let you go. For now.”
“A-Ah…” Jungkook cleared his throat. “Okay. S… See ya.”
You half-smiled. Even though he couldn’t see it, you were sure that he could hear it in your tone. “You will,” and you ended the call.
-
You found a small package addressed to you in your mailbox. No return address, no postage, but it had relatively neat handwriting that seemed familiar somehow. You tucked the soliciting letters under your arm as you re-locked your postage box. The packaging was brown paper. You turned it over in your hand.
For your collection. Jeon Jungkook.
You almost snorted. He could have. But he didn’t. You suddenly felt odd, so you quickly walked back to your apartment, shouldering your mail and your work bag, fitting the small package into your palm. The mail room was on the ground floor. You went up the flights of stairs to the far-left unit. Unlocked your front door and went in, using your shoulder to push it open.
You closed the door behind you before you opened the brown-paper wrapped parcel.
The outside packaging unfurled. Tissue paper and a bit of foam. Something told you he didn’t pack this. This was the work of the elderly who sold it to him. Smooth steel. But you felt something on the side against your palm. You turned the disc around. It was one of those snap-close clay art mirrors. The kind delicately handmade by a practiced artisan’s hands. You ran your finger over it, entranced by the ridges and matte texture. The focal point was the gradient of orange depicting tiger lilies. The background was black, making the small imagery stand out.
Tiger lilies, huh.
You opened the pocket mirror and saw your bewildered expression staring back at you. Your initial compulsion was to look away. Your intrusive thoughts interrupted, asking you if you really hated what you saw. You looked and your reflection looked back. You lifted the mirror slightly, inspecting your makeup. You barely wore any to just barely get away with it at work. It still looked good.
You half-smiled.
“You’re so fucking full of it, Jeon Jungkook,” you chuckled, tucking the mirror into the pocket of your work bag before going about the rest of your night.
-
He was quite excited for steak day until you made him speechless.
“U-uh, hey! Ahem. Hey. I have the steaks. You didn’t say if I should bring vegetables, so I also got cabbage, carrots, shitake mushrooms, I didn’t know, I guessed, sorry, and I can help cook if you need someone to watch the vegetables while, uh, I can chop or clean or anything at all… um, why are you dressed like t-that…?”
If it was his plan to greet cool, calm, and collected, he failed. You opened your apartment door to gum-chewing, wide-eyed, rambling Jeon Jungkook wearing a baggy but heavyweight white button-up and dark blue jeans with white contrast stitching. Black belt with a bright gold buckle. The hem of the jeans draped well over his black laced boots. His black leather jacket was jammed in the crook of his elbow with the groceries. His jacket had silver zippers, which didn’t match his belt. The button-up was done all the way up to his neck, which didn’t suit him.
You let him go on his rant and tried not to smile.
The situation was not exactly funny. It was obvious that he was out-of-sorts by the frantic way he was gnawing on his gum like his life depended on it. You had to wait for him to take a breath. He was too far gone in his speech for you to interrupt him. You almost dared to call it adorable. Didn’t because that wasn’t part of your image even though clearly Jungkook had completely broke the image he wanted to craft for himself over his entire time of knowing you. For his sake, you pretended nothing was amiss. You simply took the groceries from his hands while saying, “Change of plans.”
His jaw was slack. You could see the pink wad of gum stuck to his molars. Lovely. “E-Eh?”
You noticed his black hair looked a little messy and windswept. It was longer now, too, giving him an unintentional rockstar vibe. Thankfully his brain was too preoccupied with being unable to catch up to the moment to notice you noticing him. You backed up into your apartment to place the bags on your kitchen counter, busying yourself with putting everything into your refrigerator.
“I want to take you somewhere,” you said to the shelves of your fridge, clearing out space. Oh, wow. He really did buy high-grade steak. Two of them. And a giant head of cabbage. “I don’t like carrots,” you commented. “But I’ll make them for you and you can take home the rest.”
He sputtered with the elegance of a caught bluefin tuna. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t – T-Take me somewhere?”
In the middle of placing the last thing, the bundle of carrots, into the fridge, you said it.
“Yes. I want to take you on a date.”
To be honest, you weren’t sure if it would come out as confidently as you heard yourself, but there was no going back now. You had debated before this day had come, turning over the tiger lily pocket mirror in your hand at night. Debated if the unwillingness was worth it and decided it wasn’t. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was thinking the same thing you were, but then he showed up. Over-dressed. Vibrating with nervous energy. Talking too fast. One look at him and you knew. You could think you had all the time in the world, but it wasn’t true. You turned around to see Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression at the entrance of your apartment and you knew.
Despite never believing in anything and thinking everything was going to shit, well, you might as well go down with a feeling of a life well-lived.
“A d… date…?”
You closed the door of your refrigerator. “A date. You’ve heard of those, haven’t you?”
He looked like he hadn’t. “I… uh… Yes?” You had meant the light jab to bring Jungkook back to Earth but both of you were currently stuck on cloud nine. “Is that why you…?” His hand raised and made a vague gesture.
Your own hand raised to smooth back your hair from your bare shoulder. “Ah. Yes.” Since your closet was mostly made up of comfy, work, and concert outfits – in that order – that amount of classy date pieces were slightly nonexistent. You had one black dress made of a slinky soft ribbed texture that was what you ended up wearing. It reached the floor, which suited the night climate of this time of year. The rest of it was quite sexy, though. The fabric made the dress cling to and accentuate your curves. The straight neckline and thin straps were maybe too flattering. Jungkook’s eyes were certainly wandering to the general area of your collarbones. You usually wore this dress in a very specific way, which you intended to do so tonight, but it couldn’t hurt to let him admire.
Yeah.
Admire was definitely the word.
Just like how you were letting him admire you walking up to him, sending him into a mild panic, knowing exactly what you were doing but trying not to think about it, instead focusing on what had been bugging you ever since you had seen it. “This… I’m sorry, but this doesn’t suit you,” you muttered, unfastening the first few buttons of the shirt and shaking it out to a more relaxed collar. He smelled good. Oh, wow, he smelled very good. Bergamot and cedarwood, it seemed. “It looked too stuffy.” You noticed the thin gold chain underneath. Oh. Perhaps the unintentional mixing of gold and silver was intentional after all. You righted the chain so it was more visible, his warm skin under your cool fingertips, and maybe you were imagining it or was that a shiver between you and him at the contact?
Your hands awkwardly hovered over his chest.
It was hard to look up but you made yourself do it.
Jungkook seemed startled but at the very least thawed from the initial shock. “O-Oh, but…” Surely he was not staring at your cleavage. Surely. You might have put it right in his line of vision, but, surely. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s c-cold outside. At least…”
It was certainly an exaggeration to call it slow-motion, and yet somehow that was the only way to describe it because now you were the one frozen in extended seconds as he tumbled his leather jacket into his palm, grabbing it by the collar and lifting it up, up and to his left hand, flaring it out with a loud flap before draping worn-in warmth over your shoulders. The sudden weight caused you to tilt forward lightly. Your open palms pressed against his chest to steady yourself. His hands stayed on your shoulders. Both of you were staring at each other for too long.
At least no one was here to record it.
He spoke first. ‘I, uh, I took a lot of my clothes to professional cleaners,” Jungkook said quietly. “Since… It gives me a good reason to not… It cost a lot.” His ears were probably as red as yours.
You inhaled, raising your chest, and noticed how new the leather smelled despite him owning it for a while now. Your faint smile was now inevitable. “I really appreciate it,” and you did. He didn’t have to, and he did.
The light in his eyes must have been your imagination. “R… Really?” Or maybe not. He was breathless and there was no obvious cause for it.
Never in wildest dreams and insomniac nights and daytime silence full of running thoughts could you have created this present time where you felt that you saw him and he saw you. From all the gray haze moments of the past to those bright uncertain days of small happiness in the future, you knew you could do it alone, but, for once, it seemed unbearable to do so.
You leaned up and kissed him.
Your eyes had closed as you tilted your head to close the distance. Maybe you should have considered seeing his surprise. Maybe you were too nervous to. It was only a simple press of lips-to-lips. Still, you found respite. A strange tingle shot through you as you felt Jungkook kiss you back. Somehow, you felt his relief of you taking charge of a moment that he had wanted to happen for a long time.
After a savored moment, both of you broke apart.
Afraid to overstep. Slightly shocked that that just happened. You snuck a peek. It was impossible to not call him adorable and thankfully you were too high off the moment to say anything. He caught your eye. You let him, gracing him a coy curve of your lips.
His cheeks bloomed pink. “Y-You… You wanna wear my jacket?”
You lightly shook your head, reaching up to touch the back of his hand. “You’ll be cold. I was going to wear a sweater over my dress,” you explained. His expression fell a little bit despite your logic. “But I wanted to wait to see what colors you were wearing so that I could choose something that pairs well. It would be nice to match somewhat, right?” Immediately Jungkook perked up again.
It was just a damn hot pot date. Why were you both grinning like idiots? The world never did make any sense, hmph.
-
In spite of best efforts, you dozed off on his shoulder.
Dinner had been a little bit awkward. Not so awkward it was unpleasant, but enough where you had to pull yourself together to bring him back to his usual self. You wore a fluffy, thick, cropped white sweater over your black dress, giving you some much needed warmth for the cool night and giving Jungkook back his sanity. Then you took it away by hooking your arm into his, holding onto him as you both rode the train in thoughtless silence. The hot pot restaurant had newly opened and was packed with curious customers. In a stroke of luck, the host managed to find seating due to your small party size. After a brief explanation, you made a beeline for the lineup of ingredients. It had taken a mountain of vegetables, shrimp, and fishcakes on a plate to break Jungkook out of his trance.
“W-Woah! You eat that much?”
You had tilted your head. “We’re sharing. Duh.”
A flash of annoyance. “How do you know what I like to eat?”
“What don’t you like to eat?” you countered.
Jungkook puffed a cheek. “That’s not the point!”
It wasn’t the most deep of conversations. Still, it did bring you both some peace to know that you hadn’t lost what you already had. There was always that fear and it was good to know that the fear was unfounded.
“I only want one egg.”
He spoke over you, “Too bad, you’re getting two,” using one hand to crack another to poach in your boiling bone broth. You made a face at him as you mixed minced onions and garlic into your chili oil, sesame oil, and soy sauce combination. He waved a third egg at you threateningly. You were adversely terrified. He became distracted by your concoction. “Let me try.”
“No. I’ll make you your own.”
“We’re sharing.”
“There are limits,” and you promptly walked off to do just that. For his credit, he didn’t snatch your hard work. Might have been because his food wasn’t finished cooking yet. Semantics. “It’s my treat, by the way.”
Irrtation was going to permanently furrow his brows if he wasn’t careful. “I don’t need your charity. Besides, you’re hurting my pride as a man.”
You cried for him. “Boo hoo.” Sarcastically.
“You’re not paying.”
“You wanna fight?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Kinda if you keep this up.”
You pretended to lift your sweater.
Jungkook almost threw himself over the two boiling pots of broth. “Gah! What do you think you’re doing?!” He tried not to yell, hissing low between his teeth. “You’re crazy!”
“Putting you in your place,” you answered dryly.
His expression was between flabbergasted and aghast. “D-Don’t do that!”
Not the deepest of conversations. You smiled. He noticed, and looked away quickly, his ears turning pink as he busied himself ordering plates of meat. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to cook the steaks like you had originally promised. It would have made a great first date, even. And yet. Yet, you didn’t want to, because for some reason following the original plan felt symbolic of something ending instead of a beginning. You were confident in your cooking, and still the possibility of even the slightest failure made it so that you couldn’t relax. Maybe it was selfish to drag out a promise. Nothing about Jungkook’s demeanor indicated he was against it, though.
“What?”
You blinked, realizing you had zoned out in his direction. “Nothing. Just…” He frowned. You almost wanted to ask him if he was disappointed by this turn of events. He was already shoving a plateful of thinly-sliced flat iron steak into his hot pot. “Just realized we’re only here now because of a cigarette and a lighter.”
His eyes cast downward. “I’m sor–” he began.
“Who knew a bad decision could turn into such a good one.”
Jungkook snapped his head back up, surprised. You gave him an impassive expression complete with a raised eyebrow. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. He tried to hide it. He wasn’t as good at it as you were.
“Yeah. I guess…”
He sounded a little too happy for that lukewarm response. You reached into your bag, pulling out a pocket mirror to needlessly check your makeup. He noticed the tiger lilies nestled in your palm and positively beamed. You did your best to wipe your stupid smile off your face and clipped it closed to resume the meal. The rest of the dinner was similar. Well, largely focused on how many plates of shabu-shabu meat both of you could consume to make the restaurant regret seating you. At the very least, Jungkook had been impressed with your gall.
Points gained there, heh.
So, now, in spite of best efforts, Jungkook leaned his head against yours and dozed off with you on your sofa, curled up under the same blanket he had used to sleep over some nights ago. Sleep came a little too easily with full bellies. He had asked if he could sit down for a bit before heading back to his place. Because, you know, it wasn’t good if he became drowsy while driving his motorcycle. You had shrugged, casually, turning on your television to whatever late-night show was on to provide some form of mild entertainment. Distraction, really, so neither of you felt pressure to talk.
Turned out, falling asleep told you more than any conversation.
It might have been the food. The comfort of the blanket. Someone familiar being there. Whatever the cause, the stars aligned and you knew what it meant. One instance of sleep arriving quickly did not mean that you would never have a restless night again. It did not mean everything was different. But it did mean that what was already there wasn’t a lie. You thought you had done enough to spite him, but best efforts were useless in a wake of loud, hard-headed, brash Jeon Jungkook. It shouldn’t work. You were reclusive, blunt, guarded. An unfathomable match, and yet you could never seem to shake him. Apparently his fondness for you was so strong that continued meetings were inevitable. The prospect of the next time had become a regular instance. Monotone days were suddenly saturated with unexpected melodies. You kept telling yourself there was nothing else better to do than to put up with his antics.
There had been no real reason for you to believe that he would change.
He just did so he could define his own ideal of worthy.
Unconsciously, Jungkook was sinking into the cease of the sofa, into dreamlessness, taking you down with him into the cushions. You dozed practically on top of him, unknowingly nestling into his waning embrace. If you had your wits about yourself, you might have given him more conspicuous space, but he was so warm that you forgot that you didn’t typically like physical touch. Or maybe you didn’t mind as much because you knew deep down that he liked it. It was a small sacrifice for his happiness. Something like that. Ah. Right. Anyway, eventually you awoke to no-context ruckus on the television screen. Annoyed, you pawed for the remote on the coffee table and blindly turned it off. You wouldn’t have even bothered to open your eyes except for the fact that you were clearly on top on Jungkook, oh, and so you blinked slowly, line of vision shifting, realizing he wasn’t asleep.
He was pretending to be.
You placed a hand on his chest. One of his eyes cracked open. You raised an eyebrow. He almost jumped out of his skin. Probably not expecting you to be staring at him.
“Were you watching?” you asked.
“N-Not really…” Discomfort laced into his expression. “Um… You’re on my left knee a little weird.”
You shifted quickly. “Sorry.”
Relief. “No, uh, I fucked it up a bit while boxing a couple days ago,” Jungkook sighed. You could feel his inhale through your hand on his chest that you still hadn’t removed. “Think I hit it at a weird angle.”
You pointed out the obvious. “You’re not supposed to use your legs in boxing.”
He sent you the gift of a classic eye-roll complete with the bow of a scowl. “I lost my balance and fell.”
You calm expression didn’t change as you added, “Bad knees are the first sign of aging.”
His dark eyes narrowed into slits. “You–”
And proceeded to grab you by the waist. You shot up instinctively, straddling his hips, and your hand on his chest slid up. His eye went wide. He froze. You froze, realizing what you were doing. His hands were loosely around your waist with his fingers flaring out over the top of your ass. You moved your hand, resting it on his shoulder. Not on the offensive but on edge. You did your best to hold his gaze while in the precarious position. He immediately apologized.
“S-Sorry.”
“No, ah…” You shook your head. “I’m sorry.” You shouldn’t have moved to choke him out just because he was horsing around yet it was hard to really know with men these days. Still, thinking of Jungkook in that way after everything he had done for you was unfair. “I’m too used to having to protect myself.”
There was a sea of regret in those dark brown orbs. “I wasn’t going to…” Hurt you, and that part was obvious. He frowned, realizing your reaction and words said what needed to be said without saying it. “I promise. I’m not like that.”
You stared into his eyes. “I know,” and you did.
His expression became determined. “No, really.” He frowned. “I can’t help–”
You cut him off. “Is that why you have a hard-on right now?”
Dead.
Silence.
The cushions of your sofa were old, causing your knees to sink in further due to the prolonged concentrated points of pressure. You looked down. He looked up. Nobody moved. You had thought about it. Maybe. Not in any deep sense so as to not set any unrealistic expectations. He had very clearly thought about it if the rising tent of your dress in between your legs was any indication. You weren’t able to fully sit down on his crotch due to space constraints, but, even with jeans on, the distance down there was dwindling.
In short, Jungkook was obviously packin’.
You raised your eyebrows. He grimaced. He was trying not to stare at your thighs spread over him or how easily your waist fit in his hands. “Listen… Uh.” Brave of him to break the silence. “I… I’m not a disgraceful kinda guy, okay? I wasn’t planning anything. And I’m seriously serious.” His voice deepened as his eyes darted about. “Serious about…” His gaze lifted, navigating to yours.
Your lips parted, understanding him perfectly well.
However, your dress was stretching too uncomfortably. Distracted, you broke eye contact, reaching down to yank the hem from under your knee while extending your other leg to the ground to maintain balance. The fabric bunched up to your hips, draping over his lower body. You felt the friction of his jeans against your bare inner thighs. Then, you felt the friction in his jeans pressing up in between your legs.
Well.
That would be the expected result, huh.
Jungkook was beside himself. “W-W-What are you do–”
You raised your head. He stiffened. Everywhere. He was still holding you by the waist. Time was moving too fast and too slow at the same time, much like whatever this was. You made eye contact, diving into those wide eyes, searching for something to be afraid of. The scariest thing about all this was how readily he matched up with your intent to cross all the lines.
“Do you wanna kiss me?” you asked him.
His voice quivered. More out of poorly contained excitement rather than anxiousness.
“Are you crazy? Of course I wanna fuckin’ kiss you.”
There was no good reason for care-about-nothing you and caring-too-much Jeon Jungkook should match up well, and yet perhaps that was precisely the reason these puzzle pieces fit together. He lifted his torso from the sofa far too easily, meeting you halfway. With one hand on the back of the sofa and the other on his chest, your lips brushed against his. Inhale, and his warm citrusy cologne mixed with his natural scent filled your lungs. He tilted his head, closing the distance. There was no pressure of a good first kiss as it was already over with. He pulled you closer.
A kiss was not particularly special, but everything about him was.
Terrifying.
As the saying went, you felt the fear and did it anyway.
Lips to lips, electric. Your fingertips gliding over his skin, spreading the button placket before descending, unraveling him like a flower, your tongue tracing the edge of his lips. His breath hitched. His hands on your waist tighter, turning, and you adjusted accordingly, letting him sit back against the sofa with you on his lap. His fingers slid under your sweater, fanning over your back like unraveling petals as you unbuttoned his shirt, drinking in his gasps. Sinking deeper. He tugged your sweater upwards and you released him for a moment to lift your arms, arching your spine, shedding the white onto the floor. His hands on the small of your back lifted you in return, and you arrived to the view of his own white shirt barely clinging onto his shoulders, revealing tan skin and his hard work at the gym.
Your eyes trailed upwards and Jungkook hesitantly smiled, uncertain of what you were thinking.
You dipped your head and licked up his chest.
“Whoa, wha–aah, f-fuck…”
Perhaps this was a strange thought but you felt this compulsion to taste his skin. You pushed his head back and crossed his neck with kisses. Teeth. Tongue. You felt his fingertips press into your back, his hips rise, a moan bubble up in his chest. He tried to speak between gasps, his hands sliding down to your ass as you licked up to his jaw, intoxicated by the taste of his skin.
“I didn’t r-realize… o-oh…”
You flicked his earrings with the tip of your tongue, dissipating your breath so it was whisper soft against his jaw. “Deep down, you knew there was more under this surface,” you murmured and as you said it you thought of black water but the reality was reflected all over the walls, in small snapshots of mirrors from older and modern times. Yes, a mirror was the more apt imagery. Your tongue coiled around his ear, whispering his name low and slow. “You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t think you were crazy…” Jungkook gasped. He pressed you down onto his lap, hiking your dress up further. An exhale drifted past your ear. “I didn’t say I didn’t l-like it…”
With a single finger, you turned his head to face you. Half-moon eyes hazy with lust. He ticked his head, putting on the bad boy front you always knew was a front, and you rocked your hips against his to create the rhythm. He sucked in a breath, your name on the tip of his tongue, and you placed your lips against his temple to ensure that he could feel every word as much as he could hear it.
“No matter who came before you, I hope you outmatch them all.”
He viewed you from his periphery.
You smiled in a dangerous way.
There was the briefest moment where he mirrored your smirk and then he lowered his head, catching you off guard with his lips against your pulse. By instinct, your fingers laced into his black hair, tilting your head to give him more access. Your eyes wandered among the walls. In smoked glass. In craved frames. From every angle, snapshots of Jungkook kissing down your neck and you pulling the straps of your dress aside, pressing his head downwards. His lips over your collarbones created an intricate network of pinpointed pleasure, blossoming, overlapping, your nerves singing. You hooked a finger down the center of the neckline, dragging it to a risqué level. His warm breath washed over your skin.
Anticipation on a knife’s edge.
You gazed down through the shadows of your lashes. He was watching you through his own. Wondering without words. So many times Jungkook had asked for a light to ignite his addiction. You saw the writing on the wall before he did.
You tugged the top of your dress downward.
“Fuck…”
You fanned your hands over your ribs pushing your bare breasts upward. Little did he know there was a shelf bra in the dress. Probably didn’t care. He clenched his jaw and frowned slightly, his cock throbbing from below. You could feel it because you were sitting on it.
“It’s annoying that you know how hot you are. Stop knowing how to act hot too.”
You wondered if he ever looked in a mirror. “That’s rich coming from a guy that works out to make his chest big.”
He pressed his lips together before grumbling, “So…?”
You lifted you body and put your tits right in front of his face. He tried to throw you off as his lips made contact, but then was immediately distracted with the taste, running his tongue over your nipple with a moan. Strong hands on your waist again. Your own hand slid down the crown of his head, sliding in between the collar of his shirt and his shoulder muscles, caressing them as you felt sparks from his light sucking. He kissed across your chest to access the other and you breathed out, electric and erotic, your nails turning inward.
His groan was gravelly, rough from pleasure.
“Ugh, fuck, scratch me.”
You dug your nails inward and he whined into your chest, sucking harder, flicking his tongue against your nipple. You moaned to the ceiling, arching your back, and now both of your hands were on his shoulders, creating a crisscross pattern of pink under his shirt collar. There was no rhyme or reason, only instinct. Jungkook growled, taking a swift moment to yank his arms out of his shirt before pawing at your hands to explore more, touch more, repaying you with divine lips and tongue. Either he liked pain or he loved pain. Hm. You had your opinions but you kept them to yourself.
You laced your fingers into his hair, arching your back. He extended his tongue and instead of him licking upwards, you curved your body downwards, only losing contact when it was physically impossible. You lowered your head slowly. Your tongue traced your lips. He was breathing in shallow, perfumed breaths tainted with your taste. Pupils dilated. Under the influence.
You stared into his dark eyes. “You can still stop.”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, right. I was in it before you were.”
He wasn’t wrong. Time moved too fast and too slow at the same time. You slid off his lap, gripping the side of your dress and pushing them down your hips. He rose, entranced, and you backed up, out of the way of the coffee table. In the room of mirrors – the living room – clothes began to slide to the floor one by one. Your tousling of his black hair had made it gone rogue, draping over his eyes as he tugged the back of his shirt out of his pants and let it fall. You took another step back while reaching forward, pulling apart his belt buckle. He glanced down as he was tugged forward. With one eye on you, he pulled the strap from the pin. You held the buckle. Pulled. He guided the black leather to smooth exit. For a few moments, you had him by the leash of his belt, dragging him into the bedroom.
Wouldn’t be the first time.
From the look on his face, he remembered.
You held onto the belt after it made its escape, twirling it around in your hand. Jungkook’s dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t.” You didn’t say anything and that was more alarming. “Do not even think about it,” he warned, his tone becoming lower, gruff. You smiled. You flicked your wrist and he halted.
You coiled the black leather around your thigh.
Tightened it by crossing the ends.
Oh, he was looking now.
“Don’t what?” you taunted, turning as you reached the end of the bed. Instead of lifting your knee to the edge of the mattress, you gripped the crossed straps of his belt and hoisted your leg upwards, adding a little bounce of your ass as you looked over your shoulder.
He didn’t expect the showmanship. His mouth squeaked out an, “Are you serious?”
Muscles, tattoos, and he still didn’t know what to do with all that. Your other hand grazed the curve of your ass to the hem of your seamless panties, hooking a finger over the edge and tugging it towards the center dip.
“Okay, fuck, you’re gonna make me bust in my damn jeans,” Jungkook muttered, looking annoyed at the tent in his pants. His hand was already undoing the button. You smiled, releasing your leg, walking over to the nightstand by the bed. The box of unused cigarettes was still there along with your lighter. You only glanced at them, dropping his belt to the side and opening the drawer, pulling out a string of condoms.
Turned around and Jungkook shot you a disbelieving look with his cock sticking out of his pants. Still in his boxer briefs, so obviously hard that he was past the open zipper. You didn’t back down, approaching him with his death sentence dangling from your fingers.
He tried not to seem flustered. “You’re busy, huh?”
You stopped in front of him, tilting in your head. “Busy waiting for you to make a move.”
He sucked the inside of his cheek. “Tch. Am I supposed to believe that?”
“You tell me.”
You sat down on the bed, placing the condoms within easy reach. Crossed your legs. Stared into his eyes, daring him to believe that you were lying. You saw bite his lip. Looking you up and down, so you did the same, watching him shove his jeans down further. You ticked your head.
“Or maybe just don’t fall for my tricks, hm?”
And you fell back onto the bed, lifting your legs, reaching under. Put your weight on your shoulders while you hooked your fingers onto the sides of your panties, pulling up, up, slipping one leg out. Then the other. Flicked your wrist and sent it flying. Then you spread your legs to reveal his stunned face.
You pulled a condom oof the line and held it out to him.
He looked uneasy, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them away. “Uh… You sure?” He tried to sound calm but his voice was shaking. He was trying to flip it on you.
You smiled. Casually. “I give you permission to find out.”
This did not ease Jungkook’s worries. He was too busy to staring at your pussy to formulate any more sentences, though. He took the condom from your hand, pushing down his black underwear. You looked. He saw you look. Confirmed that he didn’t work out because he was lacking in his pants, that was for sure. Your gaze went back to his face. He didn’t know what to think about your reaction, because you purposefully didn’t have one.
Instead of speaking, you reached down in between your legs and spread your wet lips.
Lowering your lashes. Slow smirk. Jungkook sucked in a breath and ripped open the condom. His underwear was sliding down his legs, but you were too busy being fixated on the way his arms moved, carefully rolling down the condom as he watched your fingertips trace your slit, drawing circles around your clit. The heat turned into wetness. He moved closer. You curled a leg around his hip. He put a hand on your thigh, positioning himself over you. Made eye contact. You looked back curiously, spreading the upper lips of your slick pussy.
He slid the bottom of the slick head against your clit and made you both moan from the contact.
Rubbed, slowly. Your insides throbbed with need. The lubrication made it even better. You pulled your hand back and tipped your hips upwards, and then he slid in. He gasped, his inhale catching in his throat. The hand on your leg tensed. You pressed your calf into his ass, pushing him deeper.
“F-Fuck, what–”
Your expression must have indicated that you were going to shove him in yourself, because Jungkook took one panicked glance at your face and thrust in, loudly swearing. He shut his eyes but you caught a peek of them rolling upwards as you dreamily sighed from the feeling of fullness, squeezing all around to feel more, the pressure becoming pleasure.
“You can move.” Just in case he wasn’t sure.
“Shut up,” Jungkook snapped back, shifting his hand to grab your thigh, yanking you into his crotch. He cut off his own moan by clenching his jaw. You smiled. Sweetly. He glared as viciously as he could, which wasn’t much, and thrust hard enough to make you both gasp. He was resisting from commenting about your tightness. “Stop smirking at me like that.”
You tested fate.
“Make me.”
The light was playing tricks. Or maybe his hair was casting shadows over his darkened gaze. Or perhaps this was possession of passion that made him lean down. Locked gazes. He covered your mouth with his free hand. You let him, waiting to see where this would go. He began to move. Slow, deep, building the heat between your joined bodies. Staring into your eyes, and you stared back, clenching your core to increase the unfurling bliss, so damn good, watching his lashes lower, his lips parting, heated breath drifting out like invisible smoke. You raised your hips to meet him, moaning into his palm. He bit the edge of his lower lip, the tiny mole centered underneath suddenly visible.
Your tongue traced his fingers, dripping saliva.
He spread them, entranced by the way you thrust your wet muscle in time with his hips, coiling towards the small finger tattoos you knew he had. Jungkook swore under his breath, gripping your thigh harder, but he wasn’t reaching the force you both craved. With reluctance, he removed his hand from your open mouth, watching the charming curl of your tongue disappearing in between your lips before gripping your other hip with his wet hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.
You reached back and grabbed fistfuls of your duvet, bracing yourself with an open-mouthed smirk.
He thrust hard and you rose to meet him. Both of you cried out at the radiating smack of force between bodies. Nothing for show. Just pure raw lust, chasing the high, giving into the lust. Heat into tension. Your back arched. He pulled you to him. You squeezed him all around. With each loud slap you felt pleasure ripple through your body, making your breasts bounce to his rhythm, and you let out a soft moan, sensing the ripple turning into a cascade, your insides tightening, closing your eyes once the vicious throb overtook your hips, drowning in orgasm.
“Oh, fuck–”
Jungkook didn’t even get to choke out his surprise before his own orgasm hit him. You felt his fingers dig in, snapping your bodies together. His drawn-out groan became the sonata to the punctuated sensation of inescapable euphoria. Wet. Hot. You gasped at a jolt of ecstasy rattling in your ribs. You felt his cock jerk inside you as his hold on you lessened, switching to kneading your thighs. Your brain was so hazy that his touch seemed to amplify the addictive heat, your legs closing in, keeping him in place.
“Could’ve… fuckin’ warned me…”
He panted hard, squeezing your ass roughly. You didn’t care. It was hard to when his slip to his Busan dialect was so attractive. You reveled in the bliss for a moment longer before lowering your legs, realizing the source of the heat was Jungkook whose body seemed to be ten thousand degrees. He pushed back his hair, revealing his glistening brow and cheekbones. Gasping for breath. He pulled out before stripping off the condom with a hiss.
“What am I supposed to do with–”
You sat up, using your elbows to lift your body. It was harder than you thought because the aftermath of tension had left a residual tremble throughout your nerves, but you ignored it, living on determination alone. Jungkook started, not expecting you to move so quickly. You didn’t give him time to react, reaching down between your bodies.
“A-Ah, don’t…!”
He stuttered, gasped, then moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. Slippery. Hot. Covered in lube and cum and now your fingers wrapping around his length, finding him half-hard. You gave him almost no pressure but all contact, glossing over the shaft until his cock swelled in your hand, ghosting over the head with your palm. He bit back a yelp, not yet opening his eyes, almost whining. His reaction drove you, sliding forward a bit to the very edge of the mattress. He held his breath. Snuck a peek. You angled your body to expose more of your inner thigh and lifted him.
His eyes widened.
You sandwiched his cock in between your palm and your inner thigh, sliding your body back and forth to stimulate him. He inhaled sharply, shooting you a look of indignation, and yet his hips began moving anyway. You gradually increased the pressure. His head tipped back, groaning to the ceiling, becoming harder and harder with each stroke.
You reached over to the condoms and held them out.
Jungkook lowered his head. “Seriously?”
You lifted your hand from his pulsing, wet cock. “Saying you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that,” he retorted.
You pulled one off. He handed you the used condom. There was maybe a second and then he gave back the empty foil wrapper in which you tucked the used one into, folding it carefully so there was no spillage. It wouldn’t take long, anyway.
Part of you wanted to say that, but you held your tongue.
Hands on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs. Jungkook pinned your knees to your chest and slid back in, lowly growling, “How the fuck are you so tight,” but you were too enveloped in the sensations, wet and hard and your inner muscles closing in, molding to the shaft. The swollen head hit that depth you could really feel, and you sighed, lifting your hips. His hands slid off your legs and hit the bed, sandwiching you in between the bed and his hard chest.
Your eyes locked with Jungkook’s.
It was intense, rough, carnal. You forgot your surroundings, clutching the duvet and his tattooed forearm, matching each slap of your bodies with a breathless gasp, your calves on his shoulders, his erratic breath melting into shuddering moans. You were moving up the bed little by little from the force. Your name slipped from his lips. Your pussy clenched involuntarily and then the rapid thunderous pulse overtook your senses. He lasted a little longer this time after your orgasm, but not much longer, succumbing to the vicious call, burying his entire length inside you and gritting his teeth to muffle his moan in his chest.
It should have ended there.
You could barely breathe. Suffocating from your own thighs. After an erotic, elated eternity, Jungkook lifted his upper body, gasping apologies. You could barely hear them, orgasm still ringing in your ears, having to relax your muscles one by one. The bed was a mess. Duvet bunched up. Condom wrappers garnishing the ground. Clothes all over the floor. Your legs crossed, sliding down. Jungkook was standing somehow and you could tell that even he thought that was a miracle. He offered a hand. You took it, letting him shakily pull you up to your feet.
His breath washed over your cheek.
You looked up at him. His dark orbs shifted towards you. Waning. You tilted your head. Half-moons. Lips to lips. You drank in his exhale, kissing him deeply. Still electrified. Hands all over, igniting fire over skin. His lower body bumped up against your thigh. Slippery hardness pressing into softness. The scent of sex clung between you and him. You reached down. Touching him. Stroking his cock with your fingertips while kissing him. You felt his hand snake between your legs, sliding two fingers into you. One by one, your fingers closed in. He stroked your clit before thrusting his fingers back in, swallowing your moan into his throat. You began to slide your hand up and down. The combination of lube and cum delivered that delicious friction that he was looking for. At this point, the fervor was so intense that the pace was fierce, fast, a contest of who could get each other off faster while in lip-lock.
You shoved your tongue into his mouth.
Jungkook sucked on it, pushing a third finger into your soaked pussy, all the way up to his knuckles. You welcomed it, working his entire length, jacking him off tight and harsh, and all of a sudden he let go if your tongue, gasping with a pinched moan, his hips jerking forward. Hot spurts of milky white shot down your inner thigh. Not much, but definitely enough to witness and feel. Something inside you snapped and you had to grab his shoulder to avoid falling over, your nails digging in a halo as your pussy spasmed, sucking in his fingers with a wet squelch, your legs snapping closed to extend the feeling. Breathless moan against his ear. You leaned against him with your juices leaking down your legs and sticking to his fingers.
Delicious.
Satisfyingly ragged. Blood pumping. Both of your bodies burning, or at least yours was and his chest was alarmingly sweaty. You slowly untangled your hands from each other but they lingered low, suddenly realizing how much needed to be cleaned up.
“Uh…” Jungkook panted. “I’ll help…”
He better. “Yeah. We should, hah, clean up.” Your tongue traced your lips. “Then sleep.”
“I didn’t bring clothes,” he mumbled distractedly.
You lifted yourself from his shoulder. “I still have your sweatpants,” you reminded him.
His dark eyes slid towards you. He tried to frown. His eyes were too eager and sparkly for that. “Oh. Yeah…”
“You can go home if you want,” you offered while naked and with his cum sticking to your thigh.
He sucked on the inside of his cheek sharply. “You can’t say sleep over and then take it back.”
“Then take it in the first place.”
“I was gonna,” Jungkook snapped, and grabbed your arm, pulling you in for another kiss.
-
“Did you mean it?”
The room was relatively clean now. The trash was appropriately in the trash. The clothes had been lumped into an ambiguous pile on your dresser. Teeth had been brushed. You had set aside a spare toothbrush for his use only. Seemed appropriate. He was not wearing his sweatpants. Turned out that was not his preferred way to sleep. It wasn’t yours either. He was only in his boxer briefs and you were only in your panties. Your bodies were now minus each other’s bodily fluids.
“Mean what?”
You tried to yank the duvet into a more acceptable orientation before climbing in. After a pause, Jungkook lifted the other side and tried his best to settle in.
“That you were waiting for me to make a move.”
Tried his best because he seemed to be distracted by the conversation. You adjusted your pillow and nestled in a section of the duvet that was not that close but not too far away either. It was a king-sized one for a queen bed. Plenty of sharable coverage. You didn’t interfere with his routine and he didn’t with yours. You took the time to think.
“Hm.” It wasn’t wholly true after all. “I didn’t know if you were going to make a move or not.” He snorted under his breath but you ignored it to finish speaking. “After the first time you stayed over… It was more that I figured being prepared was better than not being prepared.”
“That’s…” He sounded uneasy.
“I can’t live hoping for something that might or might not happen,” you said without facing him.
He seemed annoyed. “Why not?”
You pointed out the obvious. “I don’t think you should change your life only to appeal to me. You should do it for yourself.”
“Well, I did,” Jungkook grumbled. He cocooned himself in a good chunk of your duvet. That was the tell of a blanket stealer. You would have to keep an eye on him. “I quit for you. It was always you. It’s happened already, so accept it.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
He grunted. “Just like how I shouldn’t have started smoking in the first place. Guess that’s the kind of shitty guy I am.”
Silence.
He wasn’t facing you. You were looking up at the ceiling. Closed your eyes because there weren’t any promises up there. The promises were always next to you. He seemed cold, but you knew better. He didn’t know how to be a cold person. He tried his best and it was a constant failure.
“Aren’t you happy you broke that people-pleasing of yours?” you asked softly.
There was a short, reluctant pause before he muttered, “You’re a butt.”
You burst out laughing. Big, muscly, tattooed man curled up in bed with you retorting with a child’s insult was too funny. Jungkook growled, rolling over to shake your shoulder with contained fury. You kept laughing even when he gave up and took the pillow out from under him, repeatedly bopping your torso and legs with it. There was no strength behind it. Plenty of salt, though. You opened your eyes mid-snicker and looked over to him. His arm was extended over to you. His black hair was all over the place. He shook his head like a Doberman and scrunched up his face. Frowning. On the verge of a pout, really. He could have looked madder. He would never make it as an actor. Your laughter died out.
“You were gonna totally back off if I didn’t have condoms?” you teased.
He looked exasperated. “Seriously? I’m not some untrained dog who hasn’t eaten in days! You… There’s plenty of other choices we have! I’m a good guy!”
You smiled. “I know.”
He immediately stopped protesting. It was as if all the fight drained out of him. There was a whole universe in those big dark brown eyes. And then it occurred to you that, back then, Jungkook could never quite meet your eyes even though he was always looking your way. Every day came with a dark night. He would ask you, got a light, and you would hold up the flame, shining light into those dark eyes when he used to lean in.
It was strange, then, to see the light that was there when now his eyes locked with yours.
No lighter required.
“You really tried to pass off as a bad guy. Almost fooled me, even.”
His eyes narrowed into slits. “Ugh, fuck you.”
“You did,” you quipped.
Jungkook flung the pillow behind him and scooted alarmingly close. You instinctively tried to move out of the way but there was no more bed to escape to. His strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and dragged you back to him, threatening you with, “Shut up. I’m hugging you.”
You failed to listen. Classic. “I didn’t ask to be hugged.”
There was a foreign tingling feeling that raced all over your skin. Not from the physical closeness, but from the other kind of closeness. You felt your shoulder bump against his firm chest. He even threw his leg over your hip and yanked your legs closer, cocooning you with his frame. You almost thought he was trying to extend the night.
Instead, he simply latched onto you like a barnacle.
“I don’t care. I’m a bad guy. Hmph.”
Quiet.
You placed your hand on his forearm just under your breasts. This was going to become very hot and sweaty in the long run. But you let it be. You didn’t want to let go either, even though you weren’t exactly doing the holding on. You used your other hand to drag the duvet back up under your chin. He didn’t stop you. You felt him squeeze you a little tighter once you were comfortable, as if to confirm. You patted his arm.
“Your hand is too hot,” he complained in a mumble by your ear.
“That sucks,” you said and didn’t move it. He didn’t try to shrug you off either. “I’ll make your steak tomorrow.”
He pretended to gnaw on your shoulder. “We can’t have steak for breakfast.”
“Why not? We’re adults.”
“That isn’t what adults do.”
“Then I give up on being an adult.”
“Me too,” he huffed. He perched his chin by your head. “Alright, I’m down.”
You debated on telling him. Telling him why you purchased the lighter in the first place. Even before him, it constantly stayed in your pocket. It only came out on the darkest nights when the insomnia was the worst. A flame and a human life followed the same trajectory. At night was when the flame danced the brightest. You would watch the flame dance. Contemplated. Extinguished it. You even did your due diligence of refilling it when it was low. When Jeon Jungkook appeared in your life, you ignited the flame for him without much thought. That was, after all, the intended use the lighter. It made sense to use it as such. You found yourself reaching for it less because, well, what if you ran into him? He would always ask and you would always provide. When he had handed you his barely-used pack and said he was done, you too gradually began to leave the lighter behind. The two objects had begun to collect dust night after night. Untouched. Originally your lighter wasn’t for him, and yet.
That small flame had led him to you.
The universe planned well.
“Hey, Jungkook?”
“Uuh?” He sounded very sleepy and not quite conscious.
“My lighter was for you, after all.”
“Mmmm…” He nestled closer and squeezed your arm. “That’s good.”
You smiled as he drifted off to sleep. He still snored, although less intensely. His grip on you relaxed but was no less meaningful. Slowly, the exhaustion caught up to you, and you went willingly, following Jeon Jungkook’s path to dreams. You would have to get used to this new routine of the night.
oh brother this was saur good omfg .......... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 im so obsessed with the characterization of jk and oc in this one it kinda felt real TO ME
Your best friend’s boyfriend Jungkook has a special wish for his birthday—you. This maybe wouldn't be such a problem if you weren't into him since the day you'd met him.
⤑ word count: 22.3k
⤑ genre: some angst, mature topics, friends to lovers, (mutual) pining, smut
⤑ warnings: MFF threesome, oral (M and F receiving), same-sex kissing, unprotected sex (always wrap it, folks), a lot of dirty talk, weird relationship dynamics, extremely mature topics
⤑ rating: 18+
Being into your friend’s boyfriend was wrong, you knew that.
Wanting to fuck him? That was just vile.
Still, it wasn’t something that you could help. It wasn’t like you could magically stop thinking the dude was the hottest man that’s ever graced planet Earth or stop wondering how it would feel to even touch him. It just wasn’t happening, your mind wasn’t letting go.
Of course, you’d never act on those urges. It was fine, you were used to it. Hana always got the best of the best and you were stuck with the rest—that was actually a running joke between the two of you, friends from elementary school.
She, an attractive rich girl who loved to experiment, mostly because she always got everything she wanted and quickly got bored of it. Because of this, she always tried to find new things to try and rebel against her family. You, on the other hand, never felt as attractive or wealthy as her, least of all adventurous.
While Hana was no stranger to one-night stands, threesomes, and things you blushed even hearing about, you stuck to monogamy and sex with people you had at least some kind of feelings for. Well, almost always.
You rarely felt crazy attraction towards someone, so you dated guys who seemed nice and thoughtful. Sex was secondary anyway, right?
You’d never even met a guy who could get you to have an orgasm and you knew it was all in your head. Hana told you so herself—it’s not the guy’s fault you can’t relax. Just tell him what you want and he’ll do it and get you to come. If you just lay there and let him play, he’ll never get it right.
She was wise, you had to give her that, but it just wasn’t happening for you, mostly because you were never that sexually attracted to guys you dated in the first place.
You rarely felt that towards anyone, until you met Hana’s new toy, Jungkook.
Usually, Hana dated really hot guys that quite frankly disgusted you. They were mostly full of themselves, the real bad-boy type that her father hated, but she seemed to be having fun, so you weren’t going to talk her out of it. Besides, she was never the one to get hurt in those flings of hers, so there was nothing to worry about. The point was, these guys were just not your type.
This time, it was different.
When she introduced you to Jungkook, which happened on their first date, surprisingly, your breath hitched in your throat. How wouldn’t it?
He was tall, dark-haired, attractive with a killer smile, huge eyes, and a rarely seen charisma. You were having coffee with her before her date and he arrived early, so you couldn’t avoid shaking his hand and meeting him.
To your surprise, Jungkook asked you to stay with them for a while, so you did, trying so fucking hard not to drool right in front of your friend and her date. You never did get why he wanted you to stay for an hour during their first date because it was real torture. Of course, you were happy that your friend scored a date with a guy that handsome and charming. On the other hand, you were jealous because you couldn’t do the same.
What was even worse was that Hana not only slept with him that same day but told you all about it. Jungkook was not only charming and attractive but he could also make her come and was hung. Life just wasn’t fair for you, it seemed.
Five days later, Hana told you that you were coming with her to a party where she’d meet up with Jungkook. You were totally against the idea, mostly because you didn’t want to be the third wheel, but also because you didn’t want to be close to Jungkook again and smell his cologne and think about him fucking you, but there was no saying no to Hana, so you had no choice.
Jungkook brought a friend, Taehyung, and even though he was also nice and charming, you couldn’t even focus on him when he was right next to Jungkook.
What was even worse was that Taehyung and Hana were in the mood for dancing, so they spent most of the night doing just that while Jungkook decided to get to know you better. The conversation felt more like an interrogation and it seemed like he wanted to know everything about you, but you knew he wasn’t interested.
Jungkook was clearly into Hana and wanted to get on your good side since you were her best friend, so you answered his questions and slowly let him into your life.
That was four long months ago. During those four months, you managed to hook up with Taehyung once you realized you had to quench your thirst for Jungkook somehow. It just wasn’t right. The worst part about it was that you were starting to feel like he was into you too, which was impossible. Hana and he weren’t exactly the most serious couple out there and their hanging out was either in a group of friends or them fucking, but still—he was her boyfriend.
Taehyung was a great guy, really handsome, way out of your league, and the sex was great, but you just couldn’t come. You couldn’t get yourself to explain to Taehyung what exactly felt good for you and what didn’t, so you just lay there and let him play, as your friend put it. Besides, the fact that you had Jungkook on your mind probably didn’t help Taehyung’s case either. It wasn’t his fault.
The worst part about it? Jungkook found out and talked to you about it at a party Hana dragged you to a long while ago. It seemed like Jungkook and you always spent most of the time at these parties together, getting to know each other better, while Hana danced around and remembered Jungkook existed when it was time to get dicked down, as she politely put it.
“You’re not really into Taehyung, are you?” Jungkook asked that night, watching you over the rim of the glass that was pressed to his lips a second ago. You knew he’d find out about it since he was close to both Hana and Taehyung, but you really didn’t expect him to ask you about it so openly.
“W-why do you think that?” You tried to seem confused, hoping he wouldn’t take it there.
“He told me he couldn’t make you come,” Jungkook went there with a smirk, shamelessly, like you two were life-long friends. “So the first thing that came to mind was that you’re just not that into him.”
“No!” You quickly said and the tone of your voice made Jungkook flinch. “I mean, he’s a great guy, really. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s probably the most handsome guy I’ve ever been with, if I’m honest.”
“Okay, so you two aren’t compatible then…” Jungkook cocked his head to the side and seemed lost in thought for a second or two. “Who’s the most compatible dude you’ve been with?”
“Uhm,” you gulped, afraid of telling Jungkook that nobody has made you come other than yourself and the vibrator his girlfriend got you for your birthday many years ago. “There weren’t th-that many.”
By this point, you’d gotten close to Jungkook, mostly because Hana kept teasing you about private stuff in front of him. You couldn’t blame her—that’s just how she functioned. She’d talk about very private stuff in front of the two of you, and it felt like that connected your little friend group. So, Jungkook already knew your sex life wasn’t that great and that you weren’t into one-night stands. Of course, then you slept with his friend to try to forget him, which didn’t really work the way you planned.
The only problem was, you were so fucking into Jungkook that you got yourself off on thinking about him, especially after you danced with him that one night and he hugged you from behind, letting you feel his boner pressing against your back. You didn’t think it was because of you, of course. Hana was right there with you, wearing a dress that showed a lot more than it covered, and you were sure Jungkook’s massive dick was just reacting to that. You just happened to be in its way, that was all.
“Okay, so none,” Jungkook chuckled, catching you in your lie, which made you look away quickly. “Well, too bad. Taehyung’s the second-best guy I know at pleasuring women. I’ve always heard solely rave reviews from girls who wanted more of him.”
“Who’s the first?” You couldn’t help but ask. What if this friend was someone you found even more attractive than Jungkook? Maybe that was the answer.
“Me,” Jungkook looked you straight in the eyes, this time without the chuckling, which made you think he was serious. You could only wish.
“Too bad,” you responded, unsure of what came over you.
Jungkook smirked and downed the rest of his drink before clearing his throat. “We’ll think of something.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
And think of something he did, even if it happened months later. Hana’s proposition was replaying in your head as you walked home from work, unable to calm yourself down, unsure of what you wanted to do about it.
She’d dropped by the cafe where you worked on her way to pick up Jungkook’s birthday present, some expensive watch you were sure he wouldn’t even wear. He wasn’t a watch guy, but Hana missed that somehow. Well, you’d probably miss everything about him if you could get his dick whenever you wanted, so you couldn’t blame her for being unable to focus.
The thing was, Hana’s present included something else—you.
“M-me?” You stuttered and sat down across from her, lowering your voice to make sure no one in the cafe could hear you. It was that, and you felt weak in the knees at the very thought of being fucked by Jungkook. “Are you out of your mind?”
“What?” She frowned at you and then waved her hand. “Listen, we talked about having a threesome with a girl. I don’t want some random stranger with us, and neither does Jungkook. I asked him about it and he chose you.”
“I, I can’t do that,” you sighed loudly, feeling like your mind would explode. Here it was, the perfect chance to have your cake and eat it too. You’d get to fuck Jungkook, and it wouldn’t be cheating, you wouldn’t hurt your friend, and you wouldn’t feel bad afterward. But, it was Hana and it was Jungkook and it was you. “We’re all friends.”
“So?” She didn’t get your point, as per usual. Hana was one of those people who took sex as an essential, mundane part of life. She could have sex with someone and then treat them like a friend and introduce them to new potential partners and be totally fine with it, which wasn’t how you functioned. “It’s not like we haven’t done that before.”
“You said you wouldn’t mention that, especially not in public,” you hissed at her, remembering the night she was talking about. It was a long time ago, but you still remembered it clearly.
“Relax, you’ve already run all the customers off with that fake smile you put on,” Hana chuckled, knowing she was right. “No one can hear me, dude. So?”
What she was talking about happened a while back, when you were both single. You went out, got drunk, and started talking to a group of friends but you both had your eye on the same guy. While you were in the bathroom, Hana suggested that you two just fucked him instead of trying to figure out who’d get to date him or anything like that.
You, being the moral paragon that held your friendship in place, opposed the idea but she talked you into it. You weren’t sure what made you change your mind—the alcohol, the fact that the guy was really that good-looking, or pure curiosity stemming from years of wondering how Hana gets so many guys wrapped around your fingers.
“What about Jeonghun?” You mentioned your boyfriend.
Well, not exactly a boyfriend.
He was more of a guy you slept with a month ago, once you realized that your insane crush on Jungkook was pointless and that it was ruining your social life. You tried it with Taehyung a couple of months earlier but it didn’t work. Then, you decided to stay single, but hanging around Jungkook was driving you wild, so you thought it was time to put yourself out there and meet someone.
After sleeping with Jeonghun, you couldn’t accept that it was a one-night stand, so you kept dating him, even though the sex wasn’t that great and, as Jungkook liked to say, you just weren’t that compatible.
“Well, considering he wasn’t even the first obstacle that came to your mind, I’d say your thing isn’t exactly it,” Hana shrugged, knowing she was making a good point. You had no real obligation towards the dude and were, in fact, just dragging it out so you would feel better about sleeping with him so early on. It was a move of a desperate, horny woman who couldn’t get what she wanted… until Hana’s offer, that is. “Besides, I know you’re into Jungkook. You told me you think he’s hot, smart, attractive, and funny, and that’s more than you’ve said about any other guy you know. They’re always missing something and Jungkook has it all. So, why not do it?”
“I don’t want shit to go wrong,” you admitted what you were really feeling, as you knew your friend wouldn’t hold it against you. “I love you so much, you’re my favorite person in the world, and if this would jeopardize our friendship in any way, it’s not a good idea.”
“Babe, I love you too,” Hana reached out and grabbed your hand, gently squeezing it. “That’s exactly why I want this to be you and not some random girl we don’t know. Besides, it’s what Jungkook wants. Who am I to stand in his way?”
“How are you okay with a threesome being Jungkook’s present?” You asked, feeling curious about it.
Was Jungkook the type of guy who didn’t do monogamy? Judging by his birthday request, it seemed so, which suited you as it made him less appealing in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine being in a relationship with a guy who asked you to have a threesome with your friends.
“Well, he got me the same thing,” Hana grinned as if she didn’t just give you the shock of your life.
“He what?” Your mouth dropped open in surprise as this was something you were not in on. “What? This happened a month ago and you didn’t tell me?”
“No, no,” she shook her head at you and laughed. “We talked about it on my birthday. I told him I really dig Jimin. The way he moves… You know. And Jungkook said he could talk to him if that’s what I really wanted. So it happened last week. Now I’m getting the feeling that Jungkook only said yes to that so he could have this. But why not? We’re only young once, we’re all friends, and trust me, if you need good sex, Jungkook is it. So, Saturday?”
You’d told her you’d think about it because Hana wasn’t leaving until she got an answer from you. After all, if you said no, her plan for his birthday present would fall through and she had to think of something else. You understood her position, but you also worried about it greatly.
The cons of this were endless: your friendship with her could suffer, your friendship with Jungkook could suffer, you could fall for Jungkook even more and become desperate, their relationship could break up because of something like this, one or more of you could end up regretting it.
The only pro of the whole thing was that you’d get to sleep with Jungkook, and that was something you really wanted ever since you first saw him. It was immoral, wrong, and it made you hate yourself whenever you thought of him that way, which is why this opportunity seemed a lot more appealing than it should have.
And then, Jungkook texted you, making your decision even harder.
Jungkook: it’s not exactly a surprise if i know about it, but i’ve heard you aren’t that into the idea
Jungkook: there’s no pressure, for real, don’t worry about it if you’re not interested!!
Jungkook: BUT
Jungkook: if you’re just worried about it going wrong or about something getting fucked up in the process, just relax
Jungkook: i’d really like to get this present :)
Jungkook: and you have to try the number one guy who can make you come, just saying
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party was great, yeah, but there was no way you could focus on anything other than your plans with your favorite couple. You drank enough to feel tipsy but not too much to not know what you were doing, but it still didn’t help—all you could think about was that you were going to fuck Jungkook right in front of your friend.
It didn’t help that Hana felt like dancing again—this time with Jimin, you couldn’t help but notice—so you and Jungkook spent most of the time by the table. Luckily, his friends were around too since it was his birthday, which meant you two weren’t alone. Your nerves were getting the better of you and you weren’t sure what you’d tell Jungkook if you were left alone.
But then, Jungkook asked you to dance in front of everyone, and even though you told him you weren’t feeling like dancing, he asked you to do him a favor for his birthday. You couldn’t say no to that, not in front of all his friends.
When you got on the dancefloor, Jungkook actually danced, as if nothing was going on, so you did the same, deciding not to be the first one to address this thing. You hadn’t responded to his texts.
Instead, you phoned Hana and discussed the whole thing with her before finally agreeing to it.
“You need to relax,” he leaned in to tell you. “Everyone can tell something’s up.”
“Nothing’s up,” you shook your head and faked a grin.
“You know you can always change your mind, right?” Jungkook wrapped his hands around your waist, which made your insides tingle. Why the fuck was he touching you like that? It didn’t help that you were wearing a crop top, which meant his hands were directly on your skin, allowing you to feel his warmth. “What are you so nervous about?”
“I don’t know,” you sighed and leaned in a bit so you could have a somewhat private conversation, even though you both had to raise your voices to be able to hear each other. “I’m not used to doing these things.”
“Being… promiscuous?” Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up and grinned. “I know, don’t worry. As long as you want it, it’s fine. If you don’t, it’s also fine. Just say what you want…”
“No, I….” You took a deep breath, realizing you’d have to say it. “I do want it.”
“Good,” Jungkook grinned. “I want it too. Don’t worry,” he reached in and moved a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand still on your waist. “I’ll treat you nicely… You know you’re a special friend to me.”
“Do you, uh, treat all your friends this way?” You asked, not knowing what took over you. Who were you to ask him something like that? It wasn’t your place to even think about it, let alone say it. If Hana didn’t worry about this, why did you?
Jungkook seemed taken aback by the question, but he quickly recovered. “No, I don’t. But I don’t usually ask friends to stay on my first date either. And I don’t ask to fuck them. It’s just you.”
You nodded, unsure of how to respond to that. You weren’t going to start believing you were special to him in any way. The two of them clearly had an open relationship and were together solely because of the sex, and you just happened to be around when they were looking for someone to join, that was all.
“Anyway, this party’s cool and all but I can’t wait until we get home,” Jungkook looked straight into your eyes when he said that, and you couldn’t help but agree, despite all the anxiety you were feeling.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
So, when you found yourself in Jungkook’s apartment hours later, you felt like your heart was going to explode from all the worrying you’d done.
There was nothing to worry about. The two of them acted like this was a regular night and nothing special was going on. Jungkook went to take a shower and Hana and you had a drink while you waited, during which she poured you both drinks and tried to get you to relax and not worry about anything.
“Please, let me know if you want to back out,” she patted your thigh with a grin. “Like, it’s not a problem. Clearly, Jungkook wants this, but it’s only a good idea if you’re both into it, so don’t worry about disappointing him or me or anything like that. And don’t worry about anything else if you want this, really.”
“What about you?” You asked one last time, still feeling uneasy about sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend, but she didn’t seem moved at all.
“I told you, I’m fine with it,” Hana chuckled. “Didn’t I suggest this? Jungkook would never ask you this himself, you know that, right? He has a lot of respect for you. I first had to convince him to let me ask you about it, and then I had to convince you to say yes, but I know you both want to fuck each other.”
“He does?” You asked, feeling a bit confused. Jungkook respected you? You thought you never even crossed his mind when you weren’t around.
“Jungkook safeguards you all the time,” she leaned in and cocked an eyebrow up. “If any of his friends say something about you, he’s always there to cut them short. Sometimes I feel like he protects your reputation more than he does mine,” this thought made her chuckle even more. “Not that I have a reputation to begin with.”
“Ah, stop saying that,” you shrugged it all off, even though it was hard to stop thinking about Jungkook standing up for you when you weren’t there.
Jungkook came back wrapped in a towel and suggested you go take a shower next, which you gladly accepted. There was no way you were getting it on right after dancing at the club. The shower helped you relax since you at least felt clean after it, even though your mind and heart were still racing.
You left the bathroom wrapped in a towel, unsure of what was expected of you. This schedule meant that you were alone with Jungkook when it was Hana’s turn, and you found it hard not to stare at him sitting there half-naked, only a towel separating you from his cock.
This was also the first time you got to see all his tattoos and his chiseled chest. God really had his favorites, that much was clear from one look at half-naked Jungkook.
Jungkook placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed it when he noticed you were getting lost in thought, and his touch made you shiver. You weren’t expecting him to be so straightforward right away. “Hey, you okay?”
You nodded right away before sighing because you knew it was pointless to try to lie to Jungkook who already knew you well. “Yeah, I’m just nervous… You know me.”
“I do,” he grinned, clearly not feeling the same way as you. You wished you could be the kind of person who doesn’t get nervous about fucking friends, but alas, there were things you couldn’t change. “If you change your mind, we can stop at any point. It’s supposed to be something fun, not something that worries you this much.”
You nodded again, completely understanding where he was coming from. Jungkook wasn’t going to go through with this thing if you looked so unenthusiastic about it. Threesomes were all about three people having fun and not two people loving it and one being an anxious horny idiot.
“I get that you like to be all moral and shit and that you feel bad because Hana and I are dating,” Jungkook said, which made you look at him again. He did? “But don’t feel that way. If you think seeing us fuck will hurt your friend, you don’t know her as well as you think you do. She won’t care. Besides, she wanted a go at my friend, so it’s fair game.”
You gulped loudly, understanding that you didn’t know as much about the two of them as you thought, after all. This thing of theirs clearly wasn’t as monogamous as you first thought. But, you were sure Jimin didn’t drool over Hana as much as you did over Jungkook. Luckily, neither one of them was aware of that pathetic fact.
“Okay. I just don’t want to fuck things up for anyone here, including me.”
“What’s there to fuck up?” Jungkook asked as he scooted over and wrapped his hand around your shoulders, pulling you in.
There he went again, acting like you two touched each other on a daily basis and like you were used to his touch when, in fact, your body was starting to burn up wherever he was that close to you. Jungkook didn’t stop there.
Instead, he reached in to lift your chin and get you to look straight into your eyes. “We’re friends, right?”
You nodded, finding it hard to look away from his eyes. He was finally so close to you, naked under that towel, and he wanted to fuck you. Out of everyone he could think of to join them, Jungkook thought of you. That meant something, right?
“Friends can fuck and stay friends,” Jungkook licked his lips. “Hana and I will be alright if that’s what you’re worried about. Clearly, neither one of us is looking at this as endgame, so we’re letting each other… enjoy. And Hana and you are a lot closer than anyone I know, so I’m sure nothing will happen between you two. You do know that we have discussed this in detail and we agreed to do it just because we know it won’t change our relationship with each other or you?”
“Yes,” you nodded, as Hana did explain that to you more than once. In fact, she mentioned it whenever you came up with a different scenario that somehow always ended in you two not talking. Your friend was completely convinced that you sleeping with her boyfriend wouldn’t change a thing about your or their relationship, just like her sleeping with Jimin didn’t affect their friendship and relationship. “It’s fine.”
“Okay,” Jungkook smiled, seemingly happy with your response. “Then why don’t you come sit on me? You’re all tense, and you should relax.”
“S-sit on you?” You asked, feeling dumb for stuttering but also unable to control your voice. You were naked under your towel, and so was he. “And Hana?”
“She said she’d take a bath while I got you to relax,” Jungkook explained with a grin. “She won’t mind. I think she’d be more bored if she had to sit here and watch us kiss before I eat you out.”
You pressed your thighs together when Jungkook said the words, mostly because you’d imagined him saying stuff like that for months now and he finally did, and it wasn’t a dream or a fantasy.
“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook asked, still grinning at you.
When you nodded, he leaned in and placed a soft peck on your lips. His lips felt warm and soft, and you wanted more, so you leaned in and Jungkook did the same, this time letting his tongue poke out and tease your lips, getting them to open before he shoved his tongue inside of your mouth and swirled it around. The feeling of having him in your mouth and breathing in his scent and his arm around your shoulder made a fire ignite in the pit of your stomach and you couldn’t believe this fucking guy could get you wet just by kissing you. Life really wasn’t fair.
You kissed him back, knowing you didn’t have much time before Hana got back, and feeling like you had a schedule to stick to. When she came back, you’d fuck, and you’d leave, letting the two of them spend the rest of the night together. So, there was no time to waste.
Still, it didn’t seem like Jungkook and you were on the same page. He was taking his time kissing you while his hand slowly grazed its way from your knee up to your thigh.
“So soft,” he mumbled into the kiss and it made you get goosebumps all over. You always wondered what his fingers would feel like on you, inside of you, and now you were finally so close to feeling it. “So fucking hot.”
When he said that, you had no choice but to moan into his mouth and reach out to grab his hair, which Jungkook seemed to enjoy, judging by the grunt that left his mouth. Slowly, he moved his hand to your inner thigh and then the other, all the while playing with your tongue, getting you to relax and melt into his touch. “May I?”
You knew what he was asking for you and simply nodded, letting Jungkook cup your naked crotch. The feeling of his hot hand against your crotch was enough to get you to groan and buck your hips into his hand, which made Jungkook smile into the kiss. “Mhm, warm… Soft… Just how I like it.”
Hearing those words made you want Jungkook even more—it felt as if he knew every single thing you liked to hear or feel and did it right then and there. He used two fingers to rub your entrance, and when he did, you could feel your juices sticking to his digits.
“Want me so bad already,” Jungkook mumbled into the kiss and then gently sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “You’re making me hard.”
Now, that was enough for you to moan. You, of all people, were getting Jungkook hard. Jungkook, this chiseled, hot, attractive, tattooed guy who looked like sex on legs was kissing you and telling you his dick was reacting to you, and you could only sit there and let him do whatever he wanted to you.
“Fuck,” you grunted when you felt the two fingers at your entrance, getting ready to enter you.
“Can I do it my way?” Jungkook asked, pulling away to look at you.
What was his way? Hana went into detail about a lot of things, but you didn’t get to hear much about the things Jungkook did to her—only that he was fucking amazing.
Usually, the guys you slept with did everything slowly, probably because you looked like that type of girl, bland and boring. They’d use one finger, then slowly add the other, and then move them in and out until they felt you were wet enough because you surely weren’t coming from fingering. After a while, you’d just tell him to fuck you and that would be it. What would Jungkook do?
You nodded and spread your legs a bit, allowing him better access, and it made him smile and look down. Thankfully, the towel was still wrapped around your body, so you didn’t have to worry about how unattractive you looked when you were sitting down next to this god walking among mortals. Jungkook licked his lips, looked straight into your eyes, and eased both fingers into you.
The surprising part was that it didn’t hurt at all, you were already that ready for him. What surprised you even more was that he started to move his fingers in and out so fast that you had to grab onto his shoulders because your body started to move in the same rhythm.
What? You weren’t used to this type of woodpecker move and you weren’t sure you would enjoy it, but the harder Jungkook went, the more you felt like you had no control over your body. All you could do was moan—and loudly, at that—and hold onto him tight. You felt your muscles contract and your walls clench and relax, enjoying the fast movements of his hand and the sounds it was making against your skin.
The warmth that was building up in the pit of your stomach got even warmer and you suddenly felt like you needed to pee right away, but you knew the feeling, so you clenched hard and tried to get over it—and bliss followed. You screamed Jungkook’s name, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders while your juices coated his two fingers, which were still moving in and out of you quickly, even though you were so clearly coming all over them.
“Ah yeah, that’s the spot,” Jungkook mumbled and leaned in to kiss you, sounding very happy with himself. “I knew I’d get you to come.”
You took a deep breath and brought your legs closer together, which made Jungkook ease his fingers gently and give you a smirk. “Feeling good?”
“I, I, I’m speechless,” you said, chuckling. “What the fuck was that?”
“A much-needed shock for your pussy,” Jungkook shrugged. “Was it good?”
You scoffed. “Good? Amazing.”
“Want more?” Jungkook grinned and reached down for your crotch, but you stopped him in time.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you told him. “Should we, uh, wait for Hana?”
“She told us to start without her,” Jungkook said before getting up and offering you a hand to do the same, so you did.
He took you to his bedroom and instructed you to lie on the bed. Before Jungkook joined you, he threw the towel on the floor, leaving you to stare at his dick. It really was big, Hana wasn’t exaggerating. And it looked really smooth but hard at the same time.
“Like what you see?” Jungkook asked, stirring you from your thoughts.
“Uh… Yeah?” You looked at him like he was asking a stupid question, mostly because he was. Who wouldn’t like seeing him naked?
You weren’t expecting Jungkook to climb on the bed and kneel between your legs before leaning in to kiss you again. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“Y-yes,” your voice faltered, so you cleared your throat. “I am. Just a bit nervous.”
“About getting naked?” He asked, glancing at the towel which was still wrapped around you, to which you simply nodded. “Can I do it?”
You nodded again, deciding to just go with the flow. The man could get you to come, it was only fair if you let him guide you through this as well.
Jungkook pulled one side of the towel to the side and then did the same with the other, leaving you completely naked in front of him. His reaction took you aback because you were certain he’d seen hundreds of women naked by that point, yet he took his time to take all of you in and he watched you with genuine interest and enjoyment.
His eyes didn’t fly all over your body like you expected them to. Instead, Jungkook first looked into your eyes and smiled at you reassuringly. Then, he started to shift his gaze from your face to your chest, where it lingered for a long while until he took all of it in. Then, he moved down to your crotch and hissed.
“Really fucking pretty,” he said with a smile, and for some stupid reason, you thought Jungkook actually meant it. It was stupid, of course he was going to say anything to get you to relax. “Can I touch you now?”
“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, feeling so naked and revealed in front of him, so much so that you could hear your heart beating.
Jungkook placed one hand on your chest, between your breasts, and then looked up at you. “Relax… You should enjoy this, not worry so much. You sure this is fine?”
“Yes,” you nodded. “Sorry, it’s just me.”
“You don’t like when men stare at you when you’re naked?”
“I don’t like it when men stare at me, period,” you said, making you both chuckle, which eased the tension, at least for you.
Jungkook then shook his head at you. “I can’t see why, but I know you’re like that… But there’s a charm to it,” he said, slowly moving his hand to cup one of your breasts, his thumb rolling across the nipple, getting it to harden instantly. “Seeing such a pretty face, shy girl… And then this fucking body and such a tight, warm pussy,” he grunted now, squeezing your breast in his palm, but doing it gently, so gently you actually wanted him to go harder on you. “If I were you, I’d be naked all the time.”
You scoffed at the thought because no, he fucking wouldn’t. If he were you, he’d be crippled with anxiety, and being naked would be the last thing on his mind, but that wasn’t the time nor the place for that conversation. “I’d do the same if I were you,” you opted for a compliment instead.
“I practically am naked most of the time anyway,” Jungkook looked up at you and shrugged as if what he was saying wasn’t fueling your imagination even more. “But I’m shameless.”
You nodded in agreement but decided not to comment on it, mostly because Jungkook leaned in and placed a soft, wet kiss on your stomach, which made you clench your abdominal muscles and press your thighs closer together, yet again.
“Sometimes, uh, being shameless is, is good,” you got the sentence out somehow, despite being completely entranced by the soft pecks Jungkook was leaving all over your stomach before moving up towards your breasts.
“Right?” He paused to look up and smirk at you. “Being shameless got us this, and we’re just getting started. I’m already having so much fun.”
With that, Jungkook swirled his tongue around your nipple gently, making you hiss. Just watching him stare right at you while his tongue was on your body was enough to make your head spin. “Fuck.”
“Can I tell you something?” Jungkook asked, letting go of your nipple to slowly kiss his way to the other breast, leaving a wet trail behind.
You gulped, watching his eyes intently. What was he going to say? Did he always talk this much during sex? It was definitely a first for you. “Yes.”
“I was really mad when Taehyung got to sleep with you,” he looked away for a second, which wasn’t like Jungkook, but then he quickly gave you a smirk and sucked your other nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.
“W-why?” You asked, wanting to hear more about it yet fearing it at the same time.
You didn’t want to hear so many compliments from him. You knew that it would be hard to get over him after this anyway, let alone if he told you so many nice things and made you feel special.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up. “You’re just my type.”
“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t say things like that,” you warned him, trying to keep a straight face while he gently sunk his teeth into your breast. Yes, he was making you feel amazing with his mouth and all the compliments were definitely doing wonders for your ego, but they felt wrong.
“Why?” He stopped playing with your breast and looked up at you. “Because you like hearing it?”
What were you supposed to say to that? There was a thin line between having sex with friends and having sex with a guy you were totally into, and you were crossing it. Yeah, Hana knew you were into Jungkook, but probably not just how much.
“Huh?” Jungkook asked, clearly wanting you to say something.
“Hana is my friend,” you simply stated, thinking it was enough. You made a statement when you said that, and you hoped he understood. No matter how attracted you were to each other, nothing could come out of it, even though you were about to sleep with each other.
“Hana knows this,” Jungkook grinned at you. “I have a soft spot for you, just like she does for Jimin.”
Did they really discuss this? You couldn’t imagine lying in bed after having sex with your boyfriend Jungkook and listening to him explaining how he had a soft spot for your friend and wanted to fuck her. You’d never allow that to happen, you wouldn’t be able to deal with it, and you’d never in a million years tell Jungkook you wanted to fuck someone else when you could do it with him.
But, you weren’t Hana, and he wasn’t dating you.
“You seem surprised,” Jungkook chuckled, going back to kissing your stomach. “Don’t be… Hana and I are just very open with each other. We’re not that similar in most aspects like you know, but when it comes to sex, we both like to experiment and we don’t want to restrict the other person.”
That sounded a lot like Hana, but not like Jungkook, at least not the guy he told you he was. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you usually experiment like this with your girlfriend’s friends and let your girlfriend fuck your friends?”
“No,” Jungkook said, surprising you both. “I just really wanted to fuck you.”
You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his head up so he would face you instead of licking strips along your stomach and getting you even wetter. His mouth was making it really hard for your to concentrate on the conversation, and you had to focus on it if you didn’t want to fuck your friendship up. “Is this a thing between three friends?”
You had to ask that question because you couldn’t go forward with this if it meant screwing your friend over in some way.
“It is,” Jungkook nodded. “I’m just telling you that I think you’re extremely attractive and not just physically and that I was jealous my friend got to sleep with you.”
“Okay,” you said, even though it didn’t sound like the most normal thing out there. “I don’t get the jealousy.”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” Jungkook chuckled, getting dangerously close to your lower belly. “Let’s just say, I really didn’t want to hear Taehyung tell me how great of a body you had or how amazing you tasted or how much he enjoyed hearing you moan… I think you’re too good of a girl for that.”
Taehyung told his friends about all of that? And Jungkook listened? And thought about it?
“Good girls have sex too,” you pointed out, suddenly feeling the urge to shove his head between your thighs, but you didn’t, like a real good girl.
“Yeah, but they have sex like this,” Jungkook said, slowly kissing his way down your pubic area, which made you roll your hips. You couldn’t control it, not when he was so close to your pussy and when his kisses felt so warm.
“With two of their friends who are in a relationship?” You asked before chuckling as the idea was insane to you. It definitely wasn’t something you usually did, but your attraction to Jungkook was stronger than your sense of decency and self-respect, clearly.
“No, I don’t mean that,” Jungkook looked up. “I mean with someone who appreciates you… Takes their time with you… Gets you to come… Wants you to feel good about yourself… Wants you to enjoy… That sort of stuff.”
You nodded, unsure if Jungkook meant he was the type of guy who could give that to you while you did this. Then, his tongue swirled around your clit and it all became a blur.
“Fuck,” Jungkook mumbled and started playing with your clit, his tongue gently prodding at it while he looked straight into your eyes.
When he heard you moan and saw you bite into your lower lip, Jungkook smiled but didn’t move away from your clit. “Fuck,” you grunted at him, unable to comprehend how someone could make you feel that good with just the tip of his tongue. But it was Jungkook and you should have known what to expect.
You thought he would just tongue your clit for a while, but he took his time with this as well, playing with it for a couple of minutes and then slowly dragging his tongue down your slit to your entrance, which was soaking wet by this point. The feeling of his warm tongue down there made you grunt his name and pull on his hair, which he seemed to enjoy, judging by the chuckle that left his mouth.
“You want me there?” He asked in a low tone of voice and wrapped his lips around your clit again, this time sucking it in.
“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, unable to even pretend you didn’t want Jungkook to fuck you.
“I can tell,” Jungkook seemed full of himself when he moved away from your clit just to smirk at you. “See how much I want you?”
He lifted his upper body a bit so you could get a good look of his erect cock and the sight made your mouth water. Not only did Jungkook look perfect when he was naked but he also had the best dick you’ve ever seen, even though you weren’t that into dicks anyway. They weren’t exactly the most pleasing thing out there, but Jungkook’s…. It was on a whole different level, and the smug bastard knew it.
“Put it in,” the words left your mouth, revealing just how desperate you already were and Jungkook chuckled, reaching down to give his cock a couple of long, slow strokes.
“Right away?” He moved in, dick in hand, and directed it towards your crotch. Like a real horny slut, you spread your legs wider, giving him as much access as he needed, which made him grin. “Oh, you really want me to fuck you.”
With that, Jungkook grabbed the base of his dick and then slammed his tip against your clit, which made you grunt. It felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough, it was too short to count, and he knew it. He did it again, and then gently moved his tip down your slit, getting it wet. You could see your juices glistening on the top of his dick when he moved it away.
“Later, huh?” Jungkook cocked an eyebrow up. “I’d really like to eat you out first… Get you to come for me again.”
“Why?” You grunted in response, feeling agitated because he’s gotten you so aroused that you really wanted to feel him inside of you and it seemed like Jungkook was dragging it out.
Suddenly, Jungkook got down on his elbows, towering over you, his mouth an inch away from yours. “If I put it in, I’ll come right away,” he said and then scoffed. “You really turn me on. So, let me eat you out first so I don’t embarrass myself.”
Embarrass himself? You’d probably go wild if he came right after putting his dick inside of you, but there was no way in hell you’d admit that to anyone, let alone Jungkook.
“Okay,” you muttered instead, and a second later, Jungkook made you understand why you didn’t make a mistake when you agreed.
His tongue was prodding your entrance and before you knew it, he was pushing its tip inside of you quickly, getting you to buck your hips into his face. Fuck, he was good at it.
Jungkook’s hands found their way to your thighs and he dug his fingers into the soft flesh, pushing your thighs to the side, allowing him to dig in deeper with his tongue until he got you to moan his name. When he heard that, Jungkook smirked at you and moved up to your clit while one of his hands made its way to your hole.
“So fucking needy already,” he chuckled and shoved two of his fingers inside of you while looking straight into your eyes, his mouth an inch away from your swollen, throbbing clit.
You moaned and squirmed under his touch, but his other hand held your thigh in place, stopping you from bucking your hips into him too hard. Jungkook hissed when he pulled his fingers out and then eased them again. “Your pussy is so hungry for me… Swallowing my fingers right away,” he looked up and grinned before sticking his tongue out to take a long, slow lick at your clit. “Want my cock so bad.”
“Mhm,” you hummed and nodded at the same time, totally lost in the moment.
You couldn’t believe that you were actually experiencing all of this: you on your back, legs completely spread with Jungkook’s head between it, two of his fingers entering you while he smirked at you and looked at you like he couldn’t wait to fuck you too. It seemed too good to be true.
“Let’s get you to come, huh?” He said, mostly to himself, and then he dug in.
You’d never, ever experienced someone doing to your clit what Jungkook did then, and you weren’t even sure how to explain it. The most amazing thing was that he managed to keep up the pace and never stopped moving his fingers in and out gently at this point, while his mouth and tongue teased your clit so hard you had no choice but to grab the sheets and moan his name, your entire body squirming.
It felt like he was making out with your pussy, there was no other way to put it—you felt Jungkook’s nimble tongue all over, his saliva mixed with your juices all over you, dripping wet, your arousal covering his fingers and dripping down the insides of your thighs, Jungkook’s mouth sucking your clit in, his tongue teasing it, and then moving down your slit and sucking everything into his mouth in the process.
You couldn’t believe that someone knew your body that well and knew exactly what you liked, but you had to remind yourself that Jungkook had tons of experience and practice. Still, it didn’t change how you felt—mindblown.
Jungkook’s mouth on your pussy felt fucking amazing, mostly because it was slowly but surely getting you to orgasm. Usually, guys you slept with would use fingers as well, but that never worked for you—it was hard to focus on those two things at once which made your orgasm impossible. You’d start to overthink it and focus on the tongue and then on the fingers and you’d lose the moment.
With Jungkook, though, the whole thing was out of the question. His fingers moved the same way they did when he first shoved them inside of you and you got used to his rhythm, which helped you focus solely on his mouth, which was pleasuring more than you thought was possible.
Right then, Hana appeared next to the bed, practically out of nowhere, and sat down next to Jungkook, smacking his ass. It startled you to see her there, mostly because you were so fucking focused on what her boyfriend was doing to you that you forgot she existed. It wasn’t anything personal—you forgot that anyone other than Jungkook and you existed right then, mostly because his face was shoved between your thighs and you were making a mess out of his sheets and falling apart under his touch, and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.
“Do you guys need more time?” She grinned, looking at you. “I told you he was great with his mouth.”
You chuckled, but the sound died down in your throat when Jungkook sucked on your clit hard, making you moan. “Fuck…”
“What a fucking birthday,” Jungkook moved away from your pussy to look at her with a grin and you felt mortified to see that his entire chin and mouth were covered with slick, glistening under the light of his nightlamp.
Hana chuckled and patted his cheek. “You look like you’re having fun too.”
“I’m so fucking hard,” Jungkook said, tugging on his rock-hard dick. “Let’s switch.”
With that, Jungkook lay down next to you and turned to face you. “Come,” he motioned for you to get up and patted your thigh, pulling you over until you were straddling his shoulders.
You turned around to see what Hana was doing and found that she was about to straddle him, and you couldn’t look away. She adjusted Jungkook’s cock so she could sit right down on it, which she did a couple of seconds later, earning a moan from Jungkook. That made you face him, which was a bit hard considering you were right above his face.
“Come here,” he grunted now, grabbing your ass and pulling you down so he could latch his mouth onto your pussy again.
The scene reminded you so much of the one you’d experienced with Hana before, where she rode the guy and you rode his face, except Jungkook was a lot more attractive than the guy in your book, probably because he had an amazing personality on top of extraordinary looks. Still, the sounds of her skin hitting his as she jumped on his cock and tried to get herself to come reminded you of the night, and so did your moans.
You couldn’t help it, not when Jungkook wasn’t pulling away from your pussy not even for a second and you weren’t even sure how he managed to breathe when he was that glued to you.
Hana was familiar with Jungkook’s cock, which wasn’t surprising, and you could tell she knew just how to ride him to get herself off while getting him turned on. The more she moaned and the harder she rode him, the more vigorously he sucked and licked your pussy. All you could do was grab Jungkook’s hair and tug at it, enjoying at least some type of contact with him.
The truth was, you wanted to suck him off and return the favor, you wanted to kiss him, to touch him everywhere, but you knew that would be out of line, so you let him play with your pussy while Hana rode him.
A couple of minutes in, her breathing got heavier and the sounds of skin hitting skin became louder and more frequent, and not a minute later, she was moaning his name and coming, still riding him. Jungkook pulled away from your crotch for a second, his hands still on your ass, and groaned. “Ah, fuck, baby,” he moaned but kept his eyes glued to you. “Feel so tight.”
“Fuck, fuck,” Hana moaned and leaned in to rest her forehead against your back, wrapping her hands around you from behind. You could feel how sweaty and warm she felt, clearly exhausted from jumping up and down and pleasuring herself using Jungkook’s cock.
“That’s one, one more to go,” Jungkook grinned at you and then started to suck on your clit while looking straight into your eyes, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. All the swirls and rubs of his tongue were starting to get to you, even more so now that Jungkook was focused solely on you and not the beautiful girl riding his dick.
“You’re so fucking hard,” Hana mumbled, and you turned your head to the side to see what she was doing. Surprisingly, she still had Jungkook’s dick inside of her but was resting and trying to catch her breath. “He really loves eating you out.”
“He’s so good at it,” you told your friend, hoping that wouldn’t sound inappropriate.
“Mhm,” she hummed in agreement. “Relax,” she told you, pulling you in closer from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder so she had a good look at Jungkook between your legs. “Just focus on his tongue.”
You closed your eyes and did what your friend suggested you do, and it felt even more amazing now that you felt her body pressed against yours while Jungkook’s tongue did its magic on you. It didn’t take you long to come and you loved the fact that Jungkook inserted his fingers inside of you when he felt you buck your hips into his face as they helped you prolong your orgasm and ride it out slowly while his tongue stayed glued to your clit.
“Oh my God,” you hissed, kicking your head back and resting it on Hana’s shoulder. “What the actual fuck?”
“That good, huh?” Hana asked, making Jungkook chuckle between your thighs.
“Want more?” Jungkook sounded enthusiastic, but you shook your head at him immediately.
“No, I can’t,” you said, opening your eyes. “Return the favor?” You asked, turning to face Hana, who nodded and moved the side so you could do the same on the other one.
If someone had told you you’d each be lying on Jungkook’s side ogling his dick, you’d tell them they were crazy, but there you were, about to give him a blowjob he wouldn’t forget.
Hana grabbed the base of Jungkook’s cock and grinned at you, motioning for you to come in closer. She then stuck her tongue out and licked a strip from the base up to the tip, and you did the same from the other side. At first, you weren't in sync, but Jungkook didn’t mind—the grunts that were leaving his mouth were more than enough of a sign that he loved seeing the two of you lick him, and he enjoyed feeling it even more.
Slowly, you two started to move at the same pace, so you took a long lick from his base to the tip, where your tongues touched. When that happened, Jungkook grunted and propped himself up on his elbows, clearly enjoying the view. “Oh my God, this is… Fuck!”
His comments made you both chuckle before you continued to lick him up and down, twirling your tongues around the tip of his cock at the same time, getting your tongues to touch just so Jungkook could see and enjoy that. Then, Hana wrapped her hand around his base and pointed the tip towards you, so you sucked it into your mouth. Hana leaned in and started to lick Jungkook’s balls, which made him kick his head back and grunt.
“Fuck, you two really want me to blow my load right away,” he said, chuckling. “You’ll kill me with those tongues…”
“Babe, shut up and enjoy,” Hana said, giggling. “Take it deeper, he loves that.”
Since you knew that comment was for you, you did what Hana suggested and moved your head down his cock until you reached the base, and got Jungkook to moan your name and grab you by your hair. “Do you want me to fill your throat right now?”
You looked at him from the side, his cock still lodged inside of your mouth, a smirk on his face. Then, you gently pulled back and let him fall out of your mouth with a loud pop. “It’s your birthday, so whatever you want…”
“You should not be saying that to me,” Jungkook gave you a meaningful look and since you couldn’t decipher what he meant, you went back to sucking his tip.
Then, Hana decided to join, so you two switched—she was now sucking Jungkook off while you sucked both of his balls into your mouth and ran your tongue all over them, getting him to start bucking his hips and grunting even more. There was something so hot about seeing Jungkook look so weak for a change and being a part of the reason for him getting to feel that way.
He enjoyed it so much that he stopped with the teasing and all the comments, and a couple of minutes in, it seemed like all he could do was grunt and moan and swear while trying so hard not to buck his hips too hard.
At one point, Hana gently grabbed your chin and lifted it up so you could face her. Jungkook’s cock fell out of her mouth. “Go play with his neck and kiss him… He loves that.”
It was his birthday and you really wanted to kiss Jungkook, so you did what Hana said, leaving her to suck his dick and play with his balls at the same time. Jungkook seemed really pleased to see you moving towards him on your knees, leaning in and shoving your tongue inside his mouth.
“Jesus, you’ll kill me,” Jungkook grunted into the kiss and plopped down on the bed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in with him. “Kiss me.”
You really didn’t have to be told twice when it came to Jungkook, so you kissed him again and enjoyed the sounds of him moaning into the kiss while your friend sucked him off. The whole thing felt made up.
After all, it was what you’d wanted for such a long time and you just couldn’t believe that it was real. When you closed your eyes and kissed Jungkook, it felt surreal, the whole thing—his hands in your hair, then cupping your face, his tongue inside of your mouth, his lips pecking yours, low grunts and hisses leaving his mouth.
You could hear Hana gulping on his dick, taking as much of it in as possible, and you noticed Jungkook’s breathing getting heavier. Was he close? You started to kiss your way down to his neck and suck on it, which made him moan your name and tangle his fingers in your hair, tugging at it, his fingers massaging your scalp, pulling you in closer as if he wanted to feel more of your mouth.
“Ah, fuck,” Jungkook grunted, which made you open his eyes and find him looking right at you, eyes half-closed, almost lost in ecstasy. “Babe, I’m gonna come… Fuck, keep going.”
Hana giggled and you could hear her start to move faster. As Jungkook’s moaning got louder, she moved away and both you and Jungkook looked at her as his cum shot right out of his tip and ended up on her face and over his chest. She kept moving her hand over his cock, wanting to get every last drop out, and, honestly, you couldn’t stop staring at the scene of Jungkook coming all over her. You enjoyed his moans a bit too much, but you couldn’t feel bad about it, not when you’d just seen him shower Hana with cum, and when you were imagining he could do the same to you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled and threw his head down on the pillow and sighed. “Fuck.”
“That was a lot,” Hana said with a chuckle.
“That was embarrassing,” Jungkook grunted, propping himself up on his elbows before pecking your lips again, which felt awkward. Why was he kissing you like that when the action stopped and when his girlfriend was right there? It felt strange, but neither one of them reacted to it or made you feel like it was weird. “I need to be up the whole night.”
“Oh, really?” Hana cocked both eyebrows up and gave you a smirk. “You’re in for a treat, clearly.”
What did she mean by that? You were both in for a treat, right? There were three of you there and you were just getting started.
“Now I have to make it up to you both,” Jungkook said, reaching out to grab Hana’s hand and pull her in closer. “Tongue, Hana?”
She thought about it and then shook her head which surprised you. Was she really turning down an offer of oral from Jungkook? She was really making his birthday all about him. “Maybe later.”
Jungkook nodded, and you felt like they were in on something you weren’t, but that was only normal. The two of them were a couple and you were the third wheel here, and you didn’t know the inner workings of their relationship. “This is such a nice birthday present for me… Thank you both.”
“I have to return the favor”, Hana grinned at Jungkook, sitting on the bed right next to him. You figured she meant she has to return the favor of getting to sleep as a friend, which was weird in your book. But then again, this was all weird as hell and you’d never even dreamed about doing something like this. “As long as we’re all having fun, right?” Then, she looked at you as if she wanted to check up on you. “Are you having fun?”
“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, suddenly feeling really weird about interacting with your friend during sex.
Maybe you had that feeling because she was still covered in Jungkook’s cum. The first and only time you two interacted during sex, you were both wasted and the guy wasn’t her boyfriend, so there weren’t any real feelings involved. This was different.
“Can’t believe he got you to come so fast,” Hana noted with a grin—she knew how many issues you’ve had with orgasming with men in general because your mind was rarely in it and it felt like you were always turned on, but never enough. With Jungkook, neither of these things seemed to be the problem.
The first time he got you to come, he took you by surprise, so you could have even called it an accident. But, the second? There was nothing accidental about it. Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing.
“Twice,” Jungkook corrected her, shooting a glance your way, and you could swear he looked proud of himself. “Want to go for a third?”
Both of them turned to look at you, and you felt awkward sitting there on the bed, naked, with two people waiting for you to say something. “Uh, uhm, how?”
Jungkook cocked his head to the side and leaned in so close you thought he was going to kiss you again. “Let me fuck you,” he whispered, barely brushing his lips against yours, which was enough for your crotch to start reacting.
You nodded the second the words left his mouth, completely forgetting that his girlfriend was right there. It seemed like Jungkook forgot about her two because he got up faster than you could blink and was between your legs before you knew it, hands on your thighs.
Hana looked down at you and smiled warmly as if her boyfriend wasn’t just getting ready to fuck you again. However, you were wrong. Instead of going straight into that, Jungkook got down on his elbows and latched his mouth onto your clit, which made you gasp. “Fuck.”
“Sorry, I’ll go easier,” he mumbled and gently sucked it into his mouth again. You were still sensitive even though it felt like hours since he’d last touched you. “Have to get you ready.”
“True,” Hana agreed, moving in closer to you, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at you with a smile. “He’s definitely bigger than Jeonghun, so you won’t be able to take it so easily.”
You felt yourself blush at the mention of the guy you were seeing. Well, you weren’t exactly seeing him and things were complicated. Usually, you wouldn’t mind discussing your sex life with Hana, but hearing her mention Jeonghun and his dick while Jungkook was eating you out made you feel embarrassed all of a sudden.
“Don’t worry about that,” Jungkook said reassuringly and inserted a finger inside of you. “We’ll be fine.”
“I know,” Hana chuckled and leaned in, resting her head next to yours, as if she wanted to get closer to you. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you nodded, lowering your voice. “You?”
“Would feel better without all this cum on me, but it is what it is,” she said, making you both chuckle, but your laughter quickly died out as Jungkook started to move the tip of his tongue up and down your clit while inserting another finger, moving them in scissoring motion to stretch you out a bit. “Just relax, and enjoy yourself.”
“Shouldn’t this all be about Jungkook?” You asked Hana with a cocked eyebrow, remembering what you were there for. Until then, it seemed like you were getting all the pleasure, and Jungkook was doing everything he could to please you, which wasn’t the goal.
“It is,” she giggled sweetly and reached in to cup your face. “You’re sweet for worrying about him like he isn’t having the time of his life.”
The time of his life? It sounded strange when she, as his girlfriend, said that while Junkook was going down on you and moaning into your pussy, his fingers stretching your hole just right. Was this really such a great gift for Jungkook?
“Mhm,” Jungkook hummed in agreement and looked up into your eyes and then he glanced at Hana before wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Damn right.”
“We could do something for him, though,” Hana said, turning to face you with a smirk.
“What?” You had to know. After all, she knew Jungkook a lot better than you ever would and you really wanted to make him feel as good as he was making you feel if that was even possible.
“Kiss,” she grinned and shot a glance at Jungkook, who was looking up at your face again, clearly amused by the interaction. “I bet that would really get you going, huh?”
Jungkook smiled, his tongue still latched onto your clit, so you leaned in and kissed Hana, who readily kissed you back.
This was nothing new, you two had kissed before. Neither one of you was interested in women, which is why you two didn't interact with each other sexually during the night—you didn’t want Hana to do anything sexual to you and you were sure she felt the same way.
However, sharing a kiss wasn’t sexual in your book, not when it came to her. Back in school, when you two felt curious, you kissed each other. Sometimes, when you were really drunk you’d kiss each other to give the other person advice on how to kiss even better. It was stupid and there were no feelings behind it, but when Hana kissed you, you could see Jungkook’s eyes widen in excitement and his fingers started to move in and out of you frantically fast as he clearly got even hornier watching you do it.
“You’re not a good girl at all,” Jungkook grunted and grinned at you through gritted teeth. “What a fucking birthday!”
Clearly, Hana knew Jungkook well because this was exactly what he seemingly needed to go hard on you, forgetting about his plan to be gentle and whatever else he was saying earlier. His mouth and tongue took turns licking and teasing your clit and labia while his fingers went in and out, every movement of his hands stretching your hole a bit more for him.
While Jungkook was doing this and making you embarrassingly wet, Hana and you kissed, softly, gently, giggling throughout, mostly at the sounds Jungkook kept making. You didn’t expect Hana to touch Jungkook, but she moved her hand down to his head and pushed him into your crotch even more, which made him grunt and start sucking on your labia. That in turn made you arch your back and moan his name, eyes closing, head moving down to the bed. Fuck, the guy was great with his tongue and fingers too. What wasn’t Jungkook good at?
Unexpectedly, Hana got up off the bed. “I have to take another shower. I feel all sticky. I think it will be a bath. You two have fun…” She said calmly as you watched her get up in confusion. Jungkook didn’t seem surprised by this at all—his mouth never left you. Then, Hana leaned to you and grabbed your shoulders. “Do whatever you want, okay? You have my blessing. He’ll be nice to you.”
Jungkook chuckled at that and shot a glance her way as Hana made her way to the bathroom. In less than a minute, she went from kissing you to disappearing from the room. You were alone with him again, and your heart started racing—the moment suddenly felt intimate.
“You heard her?” He finally moved away from your pussy just to smile at you, remnants of your excitement still visible on his lips and chin. He propped himself up on his palms. “Do whatever you want to me.”
“Oh,” you simply said, taken aback by the way Jungkook was suddenly looking at you like he was ready to devour you. Then, your eyes flew between his legs since you now finally got a good view of his body again and you couldn’t help but notice he was fully erect even though you hadn’t touched him in a while. “Put it in then.”
Your words made Jungkook happy, the low chuckle told you that, and so did the fact that he moved in closer until he was kneeling between your legs. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
The fact that he was stroking his cock while asking that made it hard for you to focus on anything else, let alone conversation. He was so fucking hot. How would you ever have sex with another man again? What would be the point? Jungkook was just kneeling there playing with his dick and you could feel yourself getting wetter.
“Yes,” you nodded with a smile, still not believing you’d get to feel Jungkook. His cock would be inside of you in a couple of seconds. “Just go slow.”
“Don’t worry,” Jungkook reached out to pat your thigh gently, letting his hand linger there for a while, making you shiver. “I’ll go nice and slow for you…”
Then, you felt the tip of his cock press against your entrance and run up to your clit. It quickly made its way between your folds down to your entrance and gently entered you, inch by inch. When the entire tip was in, Jungkook stopped and hissed before looking up at you.
“Good?” He asked and as soon as you nodded, gave you a bit more of his cock. “How are you this fucking tight?”
“I think you’re just big,” you told him, which made him grin. Clearly, Jungkook loved getting compliments about his size, and you were sure he got them often. A dick like that? There was no way women didn’t gush over it, especially since he was so good at everything.
When he eased another inch into you, you hissed and arched your back. His fingers did stretch you out, but this thing was huge. Sadly, even though you were extremely turned on, it still hurt to take it all in.
“Want me to stop?” Jungkook looked at you with eyebrows cocked up, clearly against the idea, but not wanting to go on and cause you pain. “Or to finger you a bit more? Eat you out?”
“Maybe, uh…” You took a deep breath before telling him something you thought about often. “I should ride you.”
“Ride me?” Jungkook seemed taken aback by the idea but then he chuckled and gently pulled out of you, making you wince at the loss even though it was painful before. Painful was better than empty, especially since you were so turned on. “I didn’t know you were into that.”
“You don’t know a lot of things,” you pretended to be a lot more mysterious than you actually were as Jungkook lay on the bed next to you. You weren’t the most adventurous person out there, but did Jungkook have to know that?
“Can’t wait to find out,” he said, crossing his hands behind his back and staring at you as you straddled him. “Need me to help?”
“No, I got this,” you said as you grabbed the base of his dick and positioned it at your entrance. Slowly, you let the tip enter you before you let go of his cock and placed both hands on your thighs for support. “Oh, fuck…”
You tried to go slow at first, but then you realized it would hurt either way and that you’d get used to it the sooner it entered you fully, so you sat all the way down until you were sitting on Jungkook’s thighs, his hard cock deep inside of you, a loud moan leaving his mouth as he closed his eyes. Jungkook’s hands flew to your waist instantly and he dug his fingers into your skin, pressing you even further into his own body, even though his cock couldn’t enter you even more if he tried.
“Christ, I’ll die,” Jungkook mumbled as he opened his eyes and then he smiled at you, cocking his head to the side. “Are you okay?”
Your eyes teared up a bit because of the stinging along his entire length, but you were slowly getting used to the feeling. It was strange to feel him inside of you, but it became a lot easier when you focused on how hot Jungkook looked lying under you, seemingly mesmerized by the sight of you on top of him. “Yeah, yeah… Just need to relax a bit…”
“Here, let me help,” he offered, sucking on his thumb and then moving it down to your clit so he could rub it, which did get your walls to start clenching and relaxing. “Just… Breathe…” Jungkook said gently, his thumb rubbing your clit while his other hand made its way from your waist up to your breast and gently squeezed it, grunting in the process. “I think you could make me come without even moving.”
The compliment made you chuckle, which in turn made your walls clench around his cock, and Jungkook reacted by grunting. “Are you trying to?”
“Not yet,” you shook your head and started to roll your hips in circles, letting his cock rub against your walls in hopes of them relaxing a bit. “Just want to… Feel you…”
“I feel you just fine,” Jungkook mumbled at you before biting down on his lower lip. “You’re so warm and wet for me… Can’t wait till you start jumping.”
You could hardly wait for that too—he felt so hard inside of you and you were sure he’d feel perfect once you got used to his size, so you started to move your hips front and back now, adjusting to the new feeling. Jungkook’s groaning and squeezing helped and the hand on your clit made you start going faster, and before you knew it, you were gently sliding up and down his cock, never going high enough for it to fall out, but always landing on his thighs with a loud smack, no matter how slowly you moved up.
Jungkook liked the tempo so much that he placed both hands on your waist and just let you do your thing. He couldn’t decide where to look—your crotch, your chest, your face—so his gaze flew all over, unable to stop at one place for longer than a couple of seconds at a time.
“It feels much better now,” you told him, and your words made him smile.
“I told you it would,” Jungkook smirked at you and somehow got you to melt all over again. What the fuck was up with him? You had him inside you, there was literally nothing more you could do to feel him, yet you wanted more and more. How he did it was beyond you, but you couldn’t waste time on questioning it. “Ride me faster.”
“Faster?” You cocked your head to the side and started to move the way he wanted you to, getting to feel every inch of him rub against your walls and touch every inch of your walls from the inside. You could feel your juices sliding down his cock, but you couldn’t get yourself to feel bad about it, not when you felt so fucking good because of him.
“Do you ride Jeonghun like this?” Jungkook asked after a series of hisses and moans, all of which were doing wonders for your ego. Never in your life did you think you’d see a man as attractive as Jungkook enjoy being inside of you this much.
“No,” you shook your head, not really in the mood to talk about your date. Sort of date. A guy you slept with a couple of times.
Whatever he was, you didn’t want to think about him when you were with Jungkook. This thing right here wasn’t going to happen again, and you wanted to make the most out of it.
Jungkook wanted to play dumb, so he frowned. “Why not?”
“He likes missionary,” you readily responded.
You weren’t sure how Jungkook always got you to be honest with him, but you figured the fact that he was inside of you had a lot to do with it. Your mind wasn’t working as well as your body—all you were focused on was his dick inside of you and how it felt whenever your hips smashed into his.
“He’s a nice guy, I’ll give him that, but he’s missing out on a lot,” Jungkook said while grabbing both of your breasts while you rode him, clearly deciding to make the most out of the situation, much like yourself.
The image of Jeonghun flashed before your eyes and it instantly made you feel guilty, even though you two weren’t exclusive. “Let’s not talk about him.”
“Why not?” The smirk didn’t seem to be leaving Jungkook’s face anytime soon. “You don’t like being dirty?”
“Nope,” you said while riding the dick of the guy who was dating your best friend like that wasn’t the dirtiest thing you could imagine. But, it was Jungkook, and it didn’t feel bad.
“I think you do,” Jungkook grunted, lowering his hands so he could grab your ass and help you jump on and down his cock. The more vocal he was, the faster and harder you were going. “I think you really fucking love fucking me behind your boyfriend’s back.”
“I don’t,” you disagreed because Jeonghun wasn’t your fucking boyfriend, but you didn’t want to explain these details while fucking Jungkook.
“Really? Is that why you’re riding me faster?” Jungkook chuckled, smacking your ass with open palms. “Is that why you’re dripping wet?”
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t, not when all these words and actions were making you want to start jumping up and down, not caring if you were even going to land on his dick correctly. You kept wanting more and more, and you weren’t sure if more actually existed. “Fuck!”
“Oh, so it is…” Jungkook propped himself up on one elbow while using the other to pinch your nipple gently, making you arch your back. “What would Jeonghun say if he saw you now, riding my cock like this? I bet he thinks you’re such a good, sweet girl… That’s why he only does missionary… Doesn’t want to scare you away. What would he think if he saw you taking my cock like this?”
For some reason, the things Jungkook was saying were turning you on, and not because he was mentioning Jeonghun. It was because his words were making you feel dirty, and not in a bad way. It didn’t feel like Jungkook was judging you. Quite the opposite, it sounded like he fucking loved it. Why wouldn’t he? You were acting dirty for him.
So, you decided to play along. It was the dude’s birthday and you were so fucking into him that it hurt. Why not make the most out of this one and only chance you’d have with him? “He’d …. Be mad, I guess.”
“I’d be mad too,” Jungkook licked his lips and looked up at your face. “If I had a girl like you and someone else was making you feel better than I could? I’d be pissed.”
There he went again, mentioning these what-ifs and things that just couldn’t happen because he was dating your friend and you would never do that to her, no matter how much you enjoyed fucking Jungkook. “Stop saying that.”
“Why? It’s true… You come whenever I want you to. You told me he can’t make you come,” Jungkook shrugged, knowing he had a point, and you couldn’t help but notice he looked so smug lying down and letting you ride him with a smirk on his face. He knew you too well for this, you realized. “Such a shame... Wasting your time on a guy who can’t get you horny.”
“Jungkook,” you stopped moving and leaned in, opening your eyes completely to show him you were serious.
“Yeah?”
“Please, don’t say these things,” you lowered your voice, remembering that Hana was in the bathroom, taking a bath, but that he could probably hear everything you two were saying. “You’re Hana’s boyfriend.”
Jungkook seemed shocked for a second like he was surprised to hear you say that, but he quickly got it together and smirked. “Sorry… But, you’re still a little slut.”
“Fuck,” you sighed, kicking your head back and continuing to ride Jungkook, now dragging your fingernails across his chest and stomach down to his hips, where you let your palms rest.
“Oh, so that’s what you like. Less talk less about me, and more about how you’re being so bad right now,” Jungkook seemed pleased with himself for having found out your weak spot, the smug look on his face told you that. “Riding someone else’s cock while poor old Jeonghun is probably at home jerking off to you… I know I’d be.”
The words he was saying were making you get even more excited if that was even possible. The thought of Jungkook jerking off to you was driving you crazy. Did he really? Or was he just saying this in the heat of the moment, to turn you both on even more? Then, Jungkook started groping your breasts and you felt like you were about to explode.
“He’d be mad at me too if he saw this…” Jungkook continued, rubbing your hardened nipples with the tips of his fingers, getting you to arch your back and ride him even faster. As if he realized you were starting to lose it, Jungkook groped your breast, squeezing on them hard enough to get you going. “You got me hard two minutes after coming, and that rarely happens. Just shows how much I like you, and he’d hate it. Jeonghun would be so upset seeing his nice girlfriend jump on another man’s cock like this…”
That’s true, you had to admit. Of course he’d be upset, who wouldn’t? “He would be,” you moaned, deciding to continue playing Jungkook’s game. “But he won’t know.”
“If he does, he’ll try to fight me, I can already tell,” Jungkook snickered, spreading his thighs wider to give you more room when you moved your hips back and seeing him relax and let you do whatever you want with him lit a new sort of fire inside you.”Can’t blame him. No, fuck that, I can. He can try a little harder to get you to come. It’s not that hard. You just need to be turned on and relaxed…”
“Mhmmm,” you hummed in agreement without even thinking about it.
Did you really feel that way about Jeonghun? To be honest, you didn’t really think about him that much, except when you were about to go out with him, which definitely wouldn’t be happening again. But, Jungkook was right—Jeonghun could have tried harder to get you to come.
“And Jeonghun can’t get you to feel that way, right?” Jungkook asked, clearly teasing you, wanting to get compliments out of you, now moving his hands down and planting them around your waist.
“No,” you admitted right away, holding onto his shoulders so you could lift your hips and smack them against his harshly before quickly moving them back up again. “He can’t.”
“But I can,” Jungkook said confidently.
“Yes,” you couldn’t do anything but agree because it was painfully obvious by the way you were practically dripping onto his balls and thighs, covering him with your juices.
Anytime you went up and down his cock, you could hear how wet you were and feel how hard Jungkook still was, even after what seemed like hours of you riding him. Realistically, it had only been minutes, ten at most, but it was the best ten minutes of sex you’d ever had.
“Mhm, just as I thought…” Jungkook said, now moving one of his hands up to your face to cup it, getting you to practically purr at him. “You like me a lot, don’t you?”
You felt a lump form in your throat as soon as the words left his mouth. Jungkook knew you liked him and you knew you liked him—it was painfully obvious and you weren’t sure how you’d ever get over it after getting a taste of him. But, it was wrong. “Jungkook, don’t.”
“You can say it… Hana knows it,” Jungkook said, as if he was reading your mind.
He wasn’t, which meant he discussed this with Hana, which came as a shock to you. Why would they talk about something like that? She’s never mentioned talking to Jungkook about your crush on him. “What are you on about?” you asked, slowing down.
“I told her I wanted to fuck you the first time I saw you,” Jungkook flashed you his teeth as he grinned, seemingly happy to be confessing this feeling to you, even though it was so wrong. “You’re just my type. Shy, hot in bed... Hana? Not shy. I like that too, but this is my favorite.”
“You told her that?” You stopped moving to give him a glare, still not believing the words coming out of his mouth. If he were your boyfriend and told you he was more into Hana than you, you’d cry and break up with him. What the hell was going on between these two? You clearly didn’t know them that well. “That’s mean.”
“Hey,” Jungkook said, patting your waist gently. “She told me she wanted to fuck Jimin before I even mentioned that. He was the one who introduced us, remember? So now we both got what we wanted… No, all three of us got what we want, because I know you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he paused to lick his lip and check you out from head to the point where your body met his, which happened to be your crotch. “You love fucking me.”
“Jungkook, please,” you hissed when he gently ran his hands up and cupped your breasts, flicking your nipples with his thumbs while still holding onto your flesh. Jungkook was touching you like he knew every inch of your body and exactly what you liked, and like he knew you’d let him do just about anything to you.
“Please what?”
“Don’t say these things,” you said with a slight shake of your head, feeling like your voice was faltering too. You were into him and you did love fucking him, but it was a one-time thing and he shouldn’t have been making such a big deal out of it.
“Why not? Don’t you like feeling that slutty?” Jungkook chuckled, but when he realized you weren't happy about it, he stopped instantly. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Hana knows about this and wants it. So, let’s make the most of it. Just relax and enjoy it.”
“Hana…” You tried coming up with something to say that could prove him wrong, that could show him that you two shouldn’t be discussing how horny you were for each other while he was dating your friend who just so happened to be in the other room, but your mind was drawing blanks because Jungkook was squeezing your breasts and looking straight into your eyes.
“Babe,” Jungkook sat up and leaned in closer so he could whisper at you, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you in. “I had to hear about how much Hana thought about Jimin's dick while she fucked him right in front of me, so don’t worry. If she had a problem with it, she would have said no, okay?”
Really? The thought of that shocked you—why would anyone think about anyone other than Jungkook when they could have him whenever they wanted? Besides, why would Hana say these things in front of Jungkook?
“Okay,” you nodded, not believing what you were hearing. Hana wanted to fuck Jimin when she got to fuck Jungkook. Well, to each his own, but you’d always choose Jungkook.
“Relax, baby…” Jungkook grinned and reached back to grab the back of your neck and massage it. “Ride it,” he said, which was all it took for you to start moving your hips again, now feeling his cock inside you from a whole other angle, one that suited you even better. Or was it the fact that his face was now an inch away from yours?
“Does it feel good?” Jungkook asked, stopping you from zoning out completely.
“Mhm… Great,” you practically moaned at him and he took that as a sign to go on talking dirty. Before that, though, Jungkook leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, teasing you even more.
“Big enough for you?” His cocked eyebrow told you Jungkook already knew the answer.
“Huge,” you whispered the word, and Jungkook’s face lit up.
“And you like that?” Jungkook wasn’t able to contain the excitement in his voice when he asked that, and you chuckled at his tone.
“I didn’t know I did,” you admitted, as he seemed to be waiting for you to respond as if it wasn’t already obvious that you were so into him it hurt.
This seemed to give Jungkook even more confidence. “You didn’t know a lot of things before tonight.”
“It’s like it’s my birthday,” you cracked the joke to ease the tension and try to focus solely on riding his dick, getting it to rub all against your walls from the inside, getting yourself to come.
“When is your birthday?” Jungkook seemed serious all of a sudden.
“In two months,” you responded, unsure of what that had to do anything, especially when you were in the middle of sex.
“Please, wish for this,” Jungkook whispered, placing a kiss on your shoulder. It was a soft kiss, a peck, one that made shivers run down your spine. As if he sensed that the kiss was too intimate, Jungkook started to kiss his way up to your neck, which made you grunt.
“Stop talking about me and let me concentrate,” you told him while grabbing his shoulders and starting to move your hips faster, enjoying the feeling of having his mouth on you.
“You’re right…” Jungkook said with a chuckle before licking a strip up your neck and making you moan his name loudly. “I forgot, we’re focusing on how big of a slut you’re being…”
You hummed in agreement, surprised to find yourself liking his comments this much. There was just something about the way Jungkook said these things to you like they weren’t something bad. Instead, it seemed like he loved it too.
“And you know you’re being slutty, letting me fucking you raw like this… Riding my dick, letting it stretch you out… Jeonghun is not gonna like this,” Jungkook said, hissing when you rolled your hips in a way that he obviously appreciated. “You’re so wet my balls are dripping.”
“Sorry,” you said, feeling like such an idiot for something you couldn’t control.
Jungkook looked into your eyes again, making the moment feel really intimate again, like it was just the two of you there like the night didn’t have to end. “Don’t apologize, I fucking love it.”
“Great,” you grinned, rolling your hips in circles again while staring right into his eyes, never wanting to let him go.
“Let’s switch up…” Jungkook leaned in and kissed you gently. Then, he sank his teeth into your bottom lip. “I really want to fuck.”
You nodded and gently eased yourself off of Jungkook, letting his cock slide out of you, big, pink, and slick with your juices, which made you hiss when it landed on his stomach, making a loud wet noise.
It didn’t take Jungkook long to push you down on the bed and get on top of you, your crotch almost touching his, your legs on either side of his body as Jungkook sat up between your legs and scooted his hips closer to yours.
“Fuck, this is such a nice sight.”
You could only imagine how lascivious it looked from his perspective: you on your back, legs spread, pussy on display right in front of him, but you couldn’t get yourself to care, not when Jungkook was positioning his dick at your entrance and gently shoving himself in all the way. “Mhm, fuck…”
Jungkook kicked his head back and sighed deeply before looking at you again, his eyes warm and happy. “Still so nice and tight and warm… You really are into me.”
“Mhm,” you couldn’t help but agree, not when it was painfully obvious that you loved every second of him being inside of you.
“Good,” Jungkook said, grabbing both your thighs and squeezing them while moving his hips slowly, getting you to adjust to the new position. “It will be easier to get you to enjoy yourself.”
“I’m already enjoying it way too much.” You weren’t sure what exactly had gotten into you and made you admit that, but you knew Jungkook loved hearing it. You just didn’t want him to know he had that much power over you.
“I can tell, baby…” Jungkook grinned and shoved his cock inside of you all the way. Once he realized it didn’t hurt, Jungkook started to move his hips, moving in and out of you slowly. “You’ve never been fucked this good.”
“Is it that obvious?” You asked with a chuckle.
“Kind of,” Jungkook said, starting to speed up his movements, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how his body moved while he fucked you. Everything seemed to be moving in the same rhythm and it was almost mesmerizing. “I don’t mean that in a bad way… Just that you seem to like everything I do, which makes me so fucking hard I can’t even explain.”
Now, that was something you loved hearing. If he knew how excited he made you feel, it was only fair if you heard the same about yourself. Otherwise, you’d feel stupid tomorrow. “I feel it.”
“You do?” Jungkook grinned, smacking his hips into yours, which made your toes curl. Fuck, he really did know what he was doing. “You like knowing you get men hard?”
“Some men, yeah,” you pretended you didn’t understand what he was asking.
“Okay…” Jungkook shoved himself into you all the way again and stopped moving, letting you feel all of him. “Do you like knowing you get me hard?”
“Yes,” you couldn’t lie, not when Jungkook was standing still, hovering above you, your lips an inch away from his.
“Good, because you fucking do, and not just tonight,” he said, giving you a smirk followed by quick movements of his hips, ones that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Jungkook…” you called out his name, wanting to tell him he shouldn’t be telling you he gets hard for you, not even when you were fucking, because it was a one-time thing and you didn’t want to face him tomorrow and know you get him hard and he gets you excited, and you could never do anything about it ever again.
“I know you know it,” Jungkook said, burying his face in the crook of your neck and starting to pound into you hard, a lot harder than earlier, which made you dig your nails into his back and hold him closer.
You really didn’t know that, though. Never once did you think that Jungkook harbored any feelings, let alone sexual, for you. He was extremely friendly around and offered you advice and listened to you rant about your problems, but you never got the idea that he wanted to fuck you, mostly because he was dating your best friend and you tried hard not to think about him that way. You were just his hot girlfriend’s loser friend, at least that’s how you thought he saw you.
“You don’t like me saying that?” Jungkook grunted, still not moving away from your neck, still keeping the very fast pace which made it hard for you to breathe, let alone speak, but you loved every second of it.
“No,” you admitted with a sigh, trying to focus solely on his cock entering and exiting your body, getting you wetter by the second. “Hana…”
“Pretty, she knows it,” Jungkook smiled at you, like what he was saying was completely normal and you were the weird one for feeling weird about it. “But I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”
You nodded without a word and focused on taking his features in.
After all, it was the first and last time you two were having sex, so you might as well try to take in all of it. Jungkook’s hairline was covered with beads of sweat and so was his face, even though in smaller quantities. The ends of his hair were sticking to his forehead and sides of his face, and that only made you want to pull him in so you could kiss and touch him.
However, you didn’t do that.
You lay there with your legs spread and marveled at the sight of this gorgeous man between your legs, keeping the same rhythm as he pumped himself in and out of you, his toned upper body on display, the dark tattoos in contrast with his skin, his earrings dangling whenever his thighs smacked against the back of yours.
“I never want to stop doing this,” Jungkook confessed and the confession made you bite down on your lower lip. You never wanted it to stop either, it just felt fucking amazing. “Can I go deeper?”
You nodded without a word, still enjoying the sight of him on top of you, in you, the lines of his face distorting with pleasure as he stuck his dick inside of you all the way in, getting to feel your warm pussy engulf him, pull him in closer. “Fuck,” he shook his head and looked straight into your eyes. “I’ve never been this hard in my life, everything feels fucking amazing.”
The compliments were music to your ears, you loved hearing this from someone you were as attracted to as you were to Jungkook, and the best part about it was that you knew that he wasn’t lying. Exaggerating, maybe, but not lying—you could feel just how hard he was.
“Does it feel good this deep?” Jungkook cocked his eyebrow up and when you nodded, he grinned. “Can I go faster?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, spreading your legs even wider, which made Jungkook grab you by the thighs, straighten your legs, and press them against his torso. Is that what people meant when they said their legs were around someone’s neck during sex?
You hissed when you felt Jungkook hit a spot deep inside you, which instantly made him freeze in place. “Fuck!”
“Too deep?” Jungkook gently rubbed your thighs with both hands and looked at you worriedly. “Slow down?”
“No, it’s… Uh… Strange?” You cocked your head to the side and couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. You were staring at each other, Jungkook stopped moving, and you found the whole thing funny. “It feels sharp but good?”
“Maybe I found the right spot,” Jungkook said with a grin and then started to fuck you again, this time putting a lot more energy into it, so much so that it got you to scream the first time he entered you all the way and touched that spot again.
From that moment on, most of it was a blur. You did what Jungkook’s voice instructed you to do, which was to close your eyes, breathe, and focus on his dick. It felt weird not watching him fuck you because that’s all you ever wanted to do, but Jungkook was the expert there, so you followed his advice.
Jungkook kept grunting and hissing, clearly enjoying the way your pussy felt around him, but you didn’t open your eyes to look at him. Instead, you kept them closed and focused on his cock. Every time it entered you, it went in deep, really deep. It hit a spot that hurt, but not as much as it felt good.
It was a really weird feeling, but you realized it actually felt good and that the pain came from too much pleasure if that was even possible. The a-ha moment happened when you noticed tears were streaming down your temples and that you were moaning without stopping, completely forgetting that both Jungkook and Hana could hear you falling apart under him.
“Oh, you’re getting so fucking wet now,” Jungkook grunted from above, tightening the grip he had around your thighs, continuing to fuck you, smack his body against the back of your legs, shove himself inside of you all the way, his thick cock filling you up in the best way imaginable.
Then, Jungkook spread your legs, holding each one up by your ankle, hitting the spot from an even better angle. The sudden change in positions made you arch your back and grab the sheets so you had something to hold onto.
“Jesus, Jungkook, keep going,” you muttered the words at him, taking a peek to see if he was as excited as you were just to find him biting down on his lip and looking at you, sweat dripping down his face and chest, looking completely immersed in the moment. “Oh my God…”
“What a tight little pussy you have,” Jungkook grunted, still keeping up with the same fast pace he’d set earlier, keen on getting you to come. “I wish Jeonghun could see you now, spreading your legs for me like a slut.”
“Fuck,” your back arched on its own. At that moment, you wished for that too—maybe he’d then realize that he had to put in a bit more work than just pump in and out of you until he came inside the condom. “Jungkook…”
“I bet he’d be so pissed off to hear all the things you told me….” Jungkook said with a chuckle. “Or see you let me fuck you raw and deep like this… Get to fuck you however you want… Feel those lips around my cock… Fuck, I want all of it so bad. You’re such a good slut for me tonight,” Jungkook hissed before saying your name, which was what threw you off the edge.
You felt like you were about to come ever since he hit that spot, but you just needed that little push to come undone all over his cock, and hearing him say your name did it for you. Jungkook felt you were coming, you were sure, even though he could already tell by the way your entire body twisted and turned while you screamed and held onto the sheets tight, so he kept fucking you, not stopping for a second until you asked him to, barely getting the words out.
The second you told him to stop, he did, but he didn’t pull all the way out, which actually felt nice. Instead, Jungkook stayed inside of you, planted your feet back on the bed, and leaned down to hover over you, his chest pressed against yours as he held himself up on his elbows.
“You are so fucking pretty when you come,” he grunted and started kissing you, so you finally opened your eyes, smiled at him, and then kissed him, feeling cocky enough to shove your tongue into his mouth while wrapping your hands around him, tugging at his hair, dragging your fingers across his back, surely leaving marks.
Jungkook loved all of it, you could tell by the way he practically purred on your chest or the way he played with your tongue, or, even more obviously, the way his cock twitched inside of you.
“I want to see you come,” you said into the kiss, which made Jungkook pull away and lick his lips.
“God, yes,” he grunted and started to pump himself into you again and this time, it felt even better. “I fucking love this… Getting to see just how much of a slut you are for me.”
You couldn’t do anything but moan in response since Jungkook started to fuck you even faster than before, his hands now behind your shoulders, lifting them up so he could hold the upper part of your body while he fucked you hard, and it felt amazing, to say the least.
Since his hand held you in place, you didn’t move up and down the bed. Instead, you stayed in the same place and the only thing that moved was Jungkook’s hips, in and out, in and out, his dick filling you up so well each time, but only for a second or two before he pulled out and repeated the motion.
“I’ve wanted this for such a long time,” Jungkook grunted into your ear, his hands holding you in place while his hips snapped up and down quickly. “You feel so fucking warm and tight, just like I imagined…”
“Jungkook,” you were going to tell him he shouldn't be saying that, but then you realized he was about to come and that it was his birthday, so ruining his fantasy would probably spoil the night for him. “Fuck.”
“I wanted to fuck you so bad and now that I know how good it feels, I want it to be my birthday every fucking day,” he kept grunting into your ear while his hips smacked into yours from above. “Getting to feel how warm you are around me… Fuck, it’s great. And how sweet you sound? Your angelic face and then that fucking body of yours that makes me want to ram into you like you’re a blowup doll? I won’t do it, don’t worry. I have to go easy on you,” Jungkook said with a hiss, gently biting into your bottom lip.
“No, do it,” you looked into his eyes and grinned. Why not? Nobody has ever fucked you that hard. It was all bland and boring, just like you. Missionary, slow at first, very quick towards the end, that was it.
“Do it? You sure?” Jungkook checked again, even though you could tell he was dying to do it, and that he was really close to coming already.
“Yes, please, I want to feel it,” you told him, giving him a small grin before moving your hands down to cup his ass and give it a gentle squeeze. “Fuck me.”
Jungkook’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he grunted and started to thrust into you so hard that you had to move your hands up to his back and hold onto him tight. At the same time, Jungkook let go of your shoulders and held onto the bed for support. There were too many sounds to focus on—the sounds of skin hitting skin, Jungkook’s low grunting which got louder and stronger the closer he came to coming, and your moans that you just couldn't stop, not when he was going so fast and making you feel like you were, in fact, his blowup doll.
Jungkook rested his forehead against your shoulder and stopped moving for a second. “I had to stop before I absolutely exploded. Hearing you say this makes me think of so many nasty things…”
With that, he started to move again, clearly excited about getting to come inside of you tonight, which wasn’t a part of the deal. There was no way you’d say no to him, not when you were on the pill and nothing was stopping you from letting him fill you up.
To help him come, you decided to tell him nasty things, since Jungkook seemed to like it that much. “Only you get to come inside of me,” you said something you shouldn’t have said. “You were right, I am a slut for you, I like fucking you way too much.”
“Ughh,” Jungkook grunted and started coming. Even if you couldn’t tell by how spasmodic his movement became, the fact that he pressed the side of his face against yours and held you tight would have given him away. “So fucking tight,” he mumbled, still pumping in and out of you. “Can’t believe you’d let me fill you up with my cum like this…”
You cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss, which Jungkook gladly returned, and you two kissed for seemed like an eternity. During the kiss, you felt his cock get soft and slip out of you, letting his cum drip down your cheeks, but you couldn’t get yourself to care, not when it felt so nice kissing him. You wanted it to last forever, but you only had that one night, the night of Jungkook’s birthday, and it came to an end.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
You thought seeing Hana after the night you three spent together would be weird, but it was so much more awkward for you than you could have imagined. It felt like your knees went weak the second you saw her walking into the coffee shop unannounced. But, then she waved at you and came up to the bar with a grin like nothing changed between the two of you.
“Hey! Want to take your break with me?” Hana offered, pointing to a table next to the window, far away from any of your coworkers.
A couple of minutes later, you joined her with two coffees and sandwiches, feeling a huge lump in your throat.
Of course, it was still Hana and you were still you—nothing changed. However, now you knew your obsession with her boyfriend went way too far and that you’d have to stop hanging out with him, at least for a while. You’d have to try to forget the way Jungkook felt, kissed, touched, and focus on yourself and getting over your feelings before you could be his friend again.
You knew something like that would happen when you said yes to it, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass out on.
Still, it felt terrible when you woke up the next morning, you couldn’t lie about it. Your entire body ached, you were tired and sore, but it was your chest that hurt the most because you knew it was a one-time thing, no matter how much you wanted it to happen again and again. Jungkook was in love with Hana, Hana was in love with him, and you were a hookup. That was it.
So, you avoided them for three days.
Jungkook texted, but you didn’t respond. The things he told you when you two were alone didn’t leave your mind for a second, but they were wrong. Men said a lot of things when they were horny and Jungkook was no exception, you’d learned. The guy asked his girlfriend for a threesome, they agreed on you, the person they both knew well, and he fucked you. That was the extent of his feelings for you.
Even if Jungkook, by some miracle, meant all those things, he was still Hana’s boyfriend and you didn’t want to talk about that topic with him and encourage him to say shit like that. It could ruin their relationship, which could potentially ruin your friendship with Hana and no guy was worth it, not even Jungkook, no matter how attractive, sexy, or great in bed he was.
Luckily, Jungkook didn’t push too much. He sent a text the next morning, thanking you for the night and wanting to know if you were okay, but you felt too confused and hurt and in love to respond to him. Then, you realized that you didn’t want to talk to him about it. You didn’t want to talk to anyone about it.
That night, Jungkook texted again, telling you he was worried about you and that he hoped nothing had changed.
You didn’t respond to that text either because you went to bed early. The day was exhausting from start to finish, mostly because you spent it alone, reliving last night in your mind over and over again, feeling guilt wash over you every time you’d find yourself enjoying these memories.
When you woke up, you found a third text from Jungkook, sent in the wee hours of the evening, asking you to forgive him if he crossed any lines. He also said he wouldn’t text you again because you clearly needed space. But, if you wanted to talk, he was always there.
All of that sounded perfect and it would have been had Jungkook not been your best friend’s boyfriend.
So, seeing Hana in person after all of that also hurt.
Did Jungkook tell her you weren’t talking to him? He didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, but you felt like a total loser. You promised them nothing would change and then you completely changed your attitude towards Jungkook, who did nothing wrong.
“So… How are you?” Hana asked with a smile as she took a bite of the sandwich. “I’m so fucking hungry, sorry, I can’t wait.”
“No, no, please, eat,” you nodded and took a sip of the coffee, feeling too nervous to eat. “I’m fine, why? Just busy with work.”
Hana glared at you while she chewed and you knew she could see right through you. “Cut the crap,” she said, her mouth still full of food, but you felt so bad that you couldn’t even reprimand her for that like you usually would.
“I’m sorry I’m acting all weird,” you sighed, looking straight into her eyes. “I promised nothing would change and it clearly has, but not in a bad sense. I guess I just need time to like, get my thoughts in order, or something. Maybe it was a bigger step than I thought it would be.”
“Sure,” Hana readily agreed, chasing down the bite with a sip of coffee. “I get it, we all needed time to figure it all out. But that doesn’t mean we’ll just ignore each other in the meantime, right?”
“I would never ignore you,” you shook your head. Did it really come off that way? You really didn’t have time that week because you took all the extra shifts you could to take your mind off of things. You couldn’t think about Jungkook and the way he made you feel if you worked 12 hours a day. “Why do you think that?”
“I don’t mean me,” her raised eyebrow told you that Jungkook told her all about his failed attempts at talking to you. “The three of us took part in it. If nothing has changed between you and me, it shouldn’t between the two of you.”
“Yes,” you nodded in agreement because Hana was right. Normal people would see the situation that way. Why change your behavior towards Jungkook but not her? It didn’t make any sense, but feelings rarely did. “It didn’t. I mean, it won’t.”
“Why are you ignoring Jungkook then?”
“I—,” you gulped, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. You could never lie to Hana, not even if you tried. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes, and she could easily tell when you were being dishonest. “I don’t know.”
“Let’s work through it together,” your friend suggested with a smile as if she didn’t realize she’d be uncovering some shameful secrets if she kept pushing. “We’re best friends. What we did doesn’t change anything between us because we’re still friends.”
You nodded in agreement, holding your cup with both hands and taking comfort in its warmth. That’s what you really needed—a long warm hug, but not from Hana and definitely not from Jungkook, even though you knew how amazing his hugs felt.
“Cool. And you and Jungkook were friends before this. So why not stay friends after? Unless something changed…”
“No, nothing changed,” you spoke up, never wanting to think you were interested in her boyfriend or that you’d try to do anything to separate them. “I mean, Jungkook is still my friend, clearly.”
“But you have feelings for him,” Hana suggested with a completely serious face, looking straight into your eyes which made you look at the floor in embarrassment.
You felt like the worst person out there, mostly because it didn’t even look like she was angry. Of course she wouldn’t be, she was your friend, which was exactly why your feelings for her boyfriend were completely out of place. Did she realize this that night? How long has she known? You felt embarrassed to even exist in her vicinity.
“I…. Hana,” you sighed, still unable to face her. “You’re my friend and you’ll always come first. I just need time to forget about it before I can… Be his friend. But that’s all there is to it.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” Hana said in such a calm tone that you just had to look at her to determine what she was feeling.
You found her smiling at you warmly, much to your surprise. When your eyes met, she reached out and placed her hand on yours.
“You idiot,” she said in a mocking tone, and your breath hitched in your throat, but then she giggled. “Did you really think I can’t tell? I got a boyfriend and suddenly forgot how you function? Please.”
“I’m sorry,” was all you could tell her. She could see right through you, as always.
“Will you please text Jungkook back?” Hana asked with a raised eyebrow, surprising you with her request. “I think he really wants to talk to you, but he’s waiting for you to text him back because he doesn’t want to pester you, or something like that.”
Your cheeks were blushing at that point, you could feel it. Why did she want this when you’d just told her how you felt about him? “M-maybe it’s better if I wait for a while until I can think straight.”
“I have to tell you something,” Hana leaned in and lowered her voice. “But don’t take it the wrong way and jump to conclusions, okay? Promise.”
“I promise,” you crossed your heart and looked right into her eyes, feeling like you were shivering.
“We broke u—” she started but was cut off by your loud gasp.
“What the fuck?” You couldn’t help but blurt out. “Oh my God, please tell me it had nothing to do with his birthday,” you glared at her, feeling like a total piece of shit for getting involved with a couple. What in the hell were you thinking? “I feel so bad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it? Fuck, I hope I di—”
“Stop,” it was her turn to cut you off by raising her hand. “We talked about it before. Long before the threesome even happened. There’s love and there’s lust, and we both knew what our thing was. Then I started thinking about Jimin way too much and that was my own fault. But, I have to say that I always knew he had a soft spot for you. Jungkook, I mean. He took more interest in you than he did in me. Well, you know what I mean. You two became friends and we’re more like people who fuck and like each other enough to hang out, something like that,” she explained and then shrugged.
“What? I don’t get anything.”
“I’m saying that we were discussing just breaking things off and being single and then it was my birthday and I asked him for a favor, with Jimin. And I thought we’d break up then and that would be it. But then Jungkook asked for a present, and I knew exactly what it was going to be,” she looked at you knowingly. “And I also knew that if I told you we technically broke up, you’d never do it. And I knew you definitely should.”
“I feel totally cheated just so you know,” you told her after taking all of it in. “You are right, I never would have done it, so I’m kind of upset. I’m just shocked by all of this, I guess.”
“Listen... “ Hana reached out again, grabbing your hand. “Jungkook is a really sweet, nice guy. I know what you’re thinking, he’s my ex and it’s wrong and he likes to experiment and you’re monogamous and all that. Well, he’s my ex, but so fucking what? You fucked him too, we’re even. And the thing is, he’s not like me, maybe that’s why we don’t work well together. He wants to experiment if he doesn’t have deep feelings for someone,” Hana smirked at you. “I would bet everything I have that Jungkook would never let you sleep with Jimin or any one of his friends. There’s just no way he’d do it. With me, it’s different because we just had that type of thing, it was fun and convenient and we got laid, but that’s about it.”
“This feels so fucking weird. Like, you sitting here, trying to explain how Jungkook, who I thought was your boyfriend five minutes ago, would be a good choice for me,” you shook your head before letting it fall into your palms. “It’s too much.”
“Okay. Take your time,” Hana chuckled, and hearing her laughter made everything seem fine and normal again. “I’m just trying to tell you that whatever you decide is fine with me, for real. I didn’t want to say it over the phone because I wanted to be sure you knew I meant it. And also, Jungkook’s been nagging me for three days. He wants to make sure you’re alright, you don’t regret it, you don’t hate him, and stuff like that. So I wanted to let you know that we’re not together, we didn’t break up because of you, and you should really talk to him, even if you don’t know what you want.”
“You think so?”
“Yes,” Hana shook her head at you. “I know you. You’ll overthink this, imagine a million different scenarios, and find a million downsides to this. Well, if you talk to him about it, he can answer your questions so you don’t come up with your own answers. Jungkook’s not going to force you to meet up with him or anything, he just wants to talk. Hear him out and then take your time to decide. You don’t even have to decide, that’s the best part of life. Nobody’s forcing you to do anything. Take your time, live a little, have fun with him. Just talk to the guy.”
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Hana’s friendship always meant the world to you, but that day, you realized that she was really the best friend you’d ever had. Your mother always used to tell you that blood was thicker than water because your family would always put your interests first while friends would often take their own feelings into account.
Well, Hana proved your mother wrong.
The worst part about this whole thing was that she was right—you had to respond to Jungkook and hear him out. Otherwise, you’d come up with a bunch of problems and not one solution. You’d come to conclusions on Jungkook’s intentions when that wasn’t something you could know, not without talking to him first.
You: I’m sorry for not responding. I talked to Hana today and she explained what happened between you.
What else did you want to tell him? The dude texted you three times and went out of his way to get Hana to talk to you, so you had to get it all out there and explain everything.
You: It was stupid to ignore you, but I wanted to try to forget what happened before I talked to you again
You: Honestly, it felt wrong to have all these feelings for my friend’s boyfriend, so I didn’t want to get involved even more
Was that right? Of course, you didn’t want to suggest anything or dig deep into your feelings when you weren’t even sure what it was that he wanted from you.
Jungkook: Thanks for responding :) I was worried about you after everything
Jungkook: I’m sorry if I made it weird by saying all those things… I guess I got ahead of myself, but I just forgot that you didn’t know that Hana and I weren’t a thing anymore, so it must have sounded really weird
Jungkook: Now that you know, I hope you can look at it differently, but I also get it if you can’t. I keep thinking we fucked up by not just telling you we weren’t together, but Hana was against that, but maybe I should have went against her wishes this one time
He was right, it was all a bit too much. The fact that the two of them knew they weren’t together but kept it from you did sound weird, but the more you thought about it, the more you understood where Hana was coming from.
Clearly, she thought you and Jungkook would work well together, a lot better than the two of them, but she also knew you as a person, which meant she was aware that you’d never agree to fuck her ex right after they broke up.
You: It’s really a lot to take in at once, if I’m honest
Jungkook: That’s true and it’s normal to feel that way, it’s all complicated
Jungkook: But I’m hoping you’ll think about it and come to the same conclusion as me
You: And that is?
Jungkook: That we would work out, for sure, even if it’s all a bit messy :) because we care about each other
You stared at the text for minutes, the words “care about each other” flashing before your eyes, not leaving your mind for a second. Jungkook was saying this? To you?
You: Oh? Pretty cocky :D
That maybe wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say, but it felt easier to turn everything into a joke than admit all your feelings for Jungkook right away, especially when you felt so confused by the whole thing.
Jungkook: Hm… You may not want to date me or be in a relationship with me after everything, BUT you can’t tell me you don’t care about me
Jungkook: I can tell, just like I know you can tell
Jungkook: I mean, if Hana and all of my friends see it…
What? Did people really know about this?
You: What??
Jungkook: We really have a lot to talk about lol want to go out for a walk or something?
You felt like a fool when you realized that everyone other than you knew you had feelings for Jungkook. And that he had feelings for you, even though that still felt surreal. His friends? Really? He really baited you right in.
You: When?
Jungkook: After work? Before dinner? Tonight? Literally whenever you want
You: After work’s fine
Jungkook: Are you nervous?
You: Fuck yes
Even that was an understatement. You kept thinking about what you were going to wear, how you’d even survive looking into Jungkook’s eyes again, how you’d tell him any of the things you were thinking and how you’d sit through him complimenting you in person.
Jungkook: It’s okay :D I won’t do or say anything you don’t want
Jungkook: I’m a pretty straightforward guy, but I know it’s a complicated situation and it will take time
Jungkook: and I have all the time in the world and want to try to make it work
Your heart beat so loud you thought it would just jump out of your chest. Why was he saying these things when he knew how you felt? It would be so strange to see him face to face after all these confessions.
You: Let’s talk about it when we meet up :)
Did that sound cold? You couldn’t help but feel that way when you read the text again, so you quickly typed and sent another one.
You: I don’t want to sound uninterested or something because you know I’m not. I think we should talk about it in person and decide what to do then
Jungkook: Of course, no worries! I’ll come pick you up after work then?
You: Great, see you then
Jungkook: I’m so excited :D
You: LOL me too
You: why are we acting like high schoolers?
Jungkook: isn’t it a good feeling, though?
Jungkook: being so excited about just seeing someone and talking to them
Jungkook: doesn’t happen often :) see you later!
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
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this came to my dash randomly and i nearly cried remembering how i read this first the moment it came out 😭😭😭😭😭 this is the fic im (re)reading for the first time in a while and phew...... what a good ass story i almost died 😩 brb im gonna make up scenarios in my head how their meeting and their future turned out 😋
summary: "time is at the essence, and jungkook has been proved, ever so deliciously, to give zero fucks."
❧ pairing: secretary!jungkook x fem ceo!reader
❧ genre/au/rating: 18+, some fluff? smut, pwp
❧ warnings: swearing, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (f. recieving), a sad attempt at dirty talk
❧ word count: 2k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: um...please enjoy whatever this is cuz i can't get shit done to save my life lol. this was also very rushed so um...excuse that as well 🥲
You remain compliant, dismissive of your brain’s last tinge of amusement. Maybe it was the incessant self-reminder to take yourself seriously even when you put yourself in situations like this one.
What about it bothers you?
Well, for starters, your vendetta towards constant reminders of the time was always the flashiest additive to your briefings—you fail to recall this little tattooed shit being any kind of exception.
And secondly, there’s this thing…this sort of childishness; your hatred of such that denotes you as the typical child-hating gremlin in pantsuits. The sort of childishness that makes itself known by the unsubtle pursuit of control that one could only have for…eight minutes.
Eight minutes…just eight more minutes of aimlessly affirming your place on the corporate ladder whilst his dick is almost inside of you.
You’ll live.
“You said it yourself didn’t you? Something like ‘you know how the Lims get. Miss a minute and it’s your funeral.’ ” He mocks.
Right.
His funeral because it’s his job to keep reminding you what time it is. Silly you. And it’s too late to look back at it now, those notably cliche warnings about men with tattoos coming from all corners of your unfortunate vicinities.
It’s on you for not preparing yourself. The resume of a handsome male applicant, probed with sunny rays of approval without the consideration of him having tattoos. Your bad on that one.
It’s now your turn to charge. Offer your own judicious blow. If babbled curses count.
“But it’s not what you said that matters. It’s how you said it.”
“Fuck, Jungkook! Please—”
“That bad ass tone you always got on…”
“Jungkook–”
“...always the perfect match with what you wear to work every morning.”
“Fuck, please,” you begin to beg, an instinctive mark of annoyance and a response to the newfound sensation of his tip circling against your clit. Not a sliver of enmity encourages you to take action; the sight of his hand wrapped around his cock is left to be. Still, you think you might actually go insane.
“Fuck, I never tell you how much I love being bossed around.” He masters it this time, purrs working hand in hand with the up-down patterns of his tip against your slit. “It’s always a pleasure to hear you threatening to punish me… ‘nd just seeing you in those pants that hug your ass so beautifully.”
Which is why it’s both a good thing and a shame that you chose to wear them today. Helplessly flung atop the passenger seat like a banana peel as your man indulges in the sight of something much, much better, they’re probably wrinkled by now.
You’d chosen to keep the blouse on, though. A generous array of something else, like the swells of your breasts, that’ll possibly make him come untouched. It was also he who showed minimal effort, only with a tattooed arm’s rule over your periphery through his hand resting against the car window for balance. That and how fucking beautiful he looked between your legs.
But this is not looking good for you.
“Five minutes, angel.” He hums.
Head no longer thrown back, you finally manage to retain your mystic audacity. “Then quit teasing me, asshole.”
“M’sorry.” His words escape with a juvenile drag that you would have rolled your eyes at had you been in the right headspace. Now, the slimming space between your bare crotches founds two things: his closeness to fucking you and a cheeky, lipring-clad, cherry flavoured revelation against your lips—possibly a real reason this motherfucker makes you weak in the knees. “Are you mad at me? ‘Cuz I don’t ever want you to be mad at me.”
Inhibited by his length rubbing between your lips with an unmissable pattern of squelches, is a ‘yes, I am mad at you’ that only takes the form of a deep groan. Lord knows how long it would take for you to fully crack—spoiler alert: it’s not long.
“Are you?” He somewhat slurs, swelling his coquettish resemblance to a purring cat. You wonder if it’s deliberate, if not just the way he is.
You’re fucked either way.
“Jungkook,” his name sounds heavy, deep and demanding, your breath fleetingly flat as you’d somehow managed to sustain your salacious spirit. Just how he likes it… apparently. “Fuck me now, and I won’t be.”
“But I like playing with you. I like playing with this pretty pussy,” pouting and trailing a fingertip towards your swollen clit, he shortens the distance between your hot and heavy faces - if that was even possible - finally making his rightful decision, “but you’re right. We’ve got four minutes now, and I doubt that you plan on telling those old geezers what you’ve been up to.”
Sly fucking fox. You mean what you’ve been up to.
You’re one hundred percent sure that his growing boldness would have remained in its static stage of timidity if it weren’t for your “If I can, I will” basis. He’d given too much away at this point. Only to please him, you’d tell every single body in that boardroom about what a dirty boy he is.
Only to please him. Your hot-as-fuck secretary. Because as far as board meetings go, missing those fifteen minutes of ungenuine pleasantries before a long-term project proposal that must happen won’t kill anybody.
It’s only how much the Lims absolutely love themselves. Well… you’d like to think they’re not overly fond of someone who’d rather have their pussy played with. Look at you, already demonstrating the self-given title of a professional sympathizer, which would’ve been more effective if Jungkook’s cock wasn’t already effortlessly slipping into you.
“Oh f-fuck yes,” disregarding all semblance of self respect, your head is thrown back again, your updo blessed by God for preventing any car-door-induced concussions. “Jungkook, you little fucking tease, I need you to fuck me right now.”
He coos at your demand, and how obviously devoid of control you are as your words escape as a bunch of blabbery slurs. “Oh, angel. Anything for you.”
That’s what they all say before a loophole assists in your orgasmic demise. Your head’s too far up in the clouds to scold him now.
His hips are now rhythmic, deliciously slow and welcoming to the single leg that wraps around him for support. The other one is content, flimsily resting against the leathery shoulder of the passenger seat .
“How’s this, hm? Does it feel good? Wanna tell me how good that feels, angel?”
“Oh, you- aunghhhh,” you’re fully certain that you’re drooling. Nonetheless, those unshed tears do nothing to help the fact that his abs are ten times more lickable now, their unattainability having an even bigger effect on you with you basically folded in half.
Yep, this really ain’t looking good for you.
“A little drunk there, aren’t we?” he quips, leaning forward to swipe his tongue up the collar of your throat. “Is that how I make you feel, hm?”
“Mmmfuck, Jungkook, you f-fucking–”
“Oh no, you’re mad at me,” his pouty reply is of some new, fresh fucking exigency. You should thank him. Any sly acknowledgement of what was truly stopping you from finishing that sentence? You’d fire him. Right after this. Right after the upcoming stage in which he is no longer rolling his hips like this. So. Fucking. Slow.
“Jungkook,” you whimper one last time.
“M’kay, angel. I’ll be a good boy now,” he slurs - deeply - one last time.
But you knew better than to be relieved.
Through the cue of knees now reaching your shoulders, the jarring snaps of his skin against yours waste absolutely no time. He gets to hear more of your sounds, too and…dear God, your fucking sounds. Through lusty whines syncing with the makeshift rhythm of each hit, Jungkook’s cock is seen to bring out the best in you.
Or you may consider it your worst. Depends.
“Fuck yes!”
“Mhm?”
“Fuuuuck…y-yes!” That’s what he truly takes pride in, your dragged utterances of “fuck yes”, brimming tears finishing it off.
“Oh, I know.” He almost huffs, thrusts boosting the difficulty of his replies being smoother. “I know, angel. You’re taking my cock so well.”
Well, that’s new.
Now’s not the time to assess the grade on your sexual journeys—you know yourself better than anyone else…speaking on how well you can, in fact, take cock.
But damn.
That’s new.
And sexy. So fucking sexy.
Maybe you should keep him around, since you now wonder how he’d managed to make the prospect of him rearranging schedules for you even sexier.
“Am I being good now? Am I a good boy?”
And he just keeps digging deeper.
Maybe this newfound futility of your iron-fisted demonstrations was a good thing. All things (recently) considered, he’ll get to keep fucking you like this, physique and tattoos on display and not a care in the world for who might happen to walk past your car.
He’ll get to keep murmuring sweet nothings, so boldly as if you aren’t as well capable of bending him at knees every chance you get.
You’ll get to bask in the sight of two things: him, and the way your tits continue to bounce up and down with every thrust undeterred by the confinement of your bra. Just like today. Right now. Right before Jungkook decides to slow down again after you deliver nothing but a breaky cry as a response to his question—or implorement, rather.
“Come here,” bringing both your legs back to either side of his hips, he murmurs as if he’s not the one already pulling you toward him.
“What are you—”
“Relax. M’gonna make you feel so, so good,” is the only form that his reassurance takes. Still, he confidently watches the state of your widened eyes to shift into that of total ecstasy, lidded and rolling back once again.
And he’s only a little slower this time. The skin slaps and heavenly clench of your pussy are still here to stay.
“Oh shit… shit m’gonna come. Please make me come.” Breakily, tearily, but surely, comes a request from you that you couldn’t hold back.
“Mhm? You wanna cum?”
“Fuck yes! Please!” You scream.
“Then why don't you come for me angel?” That smirk doesn’t hesitate. And neither do you, screams making tinnitus the new thing as your car doesn’t really have much of an echo to offer.
You can’t believe you’re about to ask this. You can’t believe what you’re about to put yourself through, all raggedy breathed with cum messing up your seats, “Jungkook,” you take a moment to catch just a few other missing ounces of your breath, “How much time left now?”
You can’t remember when this was a thing, the little nab of his lip ring between his teeth reminding you of how good his hair looked. How violating unwritten codes of neatness was so sexy. Your desired answer doesn't make anything better, either. Not with that little smile.
“None.”
And that was supposed to be it, which is why the sight of him not buttoning up his shirt is beyond you. Which is why his sudden veer towards your bitten lips comes to you as an even bigger surprise.
Speech - potential scoldings that slowly lose their handle as the domineering kind - is instead dancing between your swirling tongues, moans, sighs, grunts and all. Kissing you, Jungkook’s precipitous revolution is not missed—call it woman’s intuition or whatever. He pulls back, a lolling string of saliva soon breaking and picking his chin as its landing.
You’re seeing it all now, the salacious hunch towards you cunt that tells you that this is not over; one that he soon takes the initiative to confirm.
“But I think they can wait a bit longer, can’t they?”
You still tried. Words still had their eagerness; something along the lines of “Wait…” before Jungkook’s tongue had beat you to it, slipping between your folds to clean just a meager chunk of his mess. Words go back to babbles. Sighs. Whimpers. Cries that don’t shroud his next siren-eyed form of reassurance.
“No need for them to fuss. Your ditzy little secretary just forgot what time it was.”
Wing Commander Jeon Jungkook has done all the calculations he needs to land safely, even on a moving target. He casts a glance at his controls, but he’s not looking at individual displays, just making sure nothing’s red or alarming. His arm is stretched, instinctively locked, and he allows it to relax, allows the throttle to move forward.
Jungkook’s clocked in close to a thousand flight hours in the F-35, more than any other pilot in his squadron, but he’s never taken any of it for granted. He takes his hand off the throttle just long enough to lower the landing gear and flaps.
Now or never.
Jungkook executes an almost perfect vertical landing on the tarmac of the Destroyer with his eyes closed because frankly if anything went wrong right now it would be beyond his control.
He opens his eyes, thanks whoever’s looking out for him and climbs out of the cockpit. There’s no time for the adrenaline to ebb, because as soon as his feet touch solid ground on water, he sees a familiar blond head.
He’s too far away to make out his expression, but there’s only one man on this ship with blond hair, and Jungkook’s known Jimin long enough to tell by the way his shoulders are squared that he’s tense, angry.
Jimin’s level-headed normally, he didn’t come by his callsign Durumi by chance. He’s always been slow to anger, able to maintain his perspective, capable of finding a peaceful way forward in almost any conflict. His cool head under pressure makes him valuable in battle, not that they ever engage in dogfights these days.
After knowing him for over a decade, Jungkook can count the number of times he’s seen Jimin angry on one hand. He’s started forward, recognising a bad situation when he sees it, when the fight starts.
It’s quick, merciless and brutal in its efficiency. Jimin darts away, ducks the first blow from the taller man he’s been facing off with, and lands a beautifully timed swing to the other man’s jaw, knocking him out cold.
The man, who Jungkook now recognises as Lee Hyeok, a new transplant from the now defunct 492nd squadron, crumples to the floor, and for the first time, Jungkook sees you.
He knows of you, even if he’s never officially met you. There aren’t that many women around, not in this job, and there hadn’t been any women in his squadron before the merger with 492.
His first impression of you is of blankness. If watching the two men fight had any impact on you whatsoever, it doesn’t show in your smooth expression.
Jungkook doesn’t trust what he can’t see. And he sure as fuck doesn’t trust you, given what’s just happened.
‘What the hell, Jimin?’ he asks, voice tense, one eye on the fallen pilot sprawled on the deck.
Jimin’s gaze flicks to yours, and you both start speaking at the same time.
Jungkook holds up a hand. ‘This is going to be an investigation, you know that,’ he says, to Jimin more than you.
‘There’s nothing to investigate,’ says Lee Hyeok. He gets up, unsteady but recovering rapidly. He fixes Jungkook with a steady gaze. ‘I fell.’
Jungkook hardens his stare. ‘I saw him —‘
Unexpectedly, you step forward. ‘It was my fault,’ you say, quietly, convincingly.
Jimin’s trying to step in front of you.
Jungkook throws his hands up, exasperated.
‘If this happens again I’m reporting all three of you,’ Jungkook says.
Wisely, all three of you fall silent.
‘Go and get checked out in the infirmary,’ Jungkook orders.
Jimin grabs your arm as you try to move away. ‘You need to get checked out too,’ he says, firmly.
Jungkook can’t see any visible injuries on you, unlike Jimin’s swollen hand and Hyeok’s bruised jaw.
‘I’m fine,’ you say, but you go along with them anyway.
Jungkook watches you walk away, with a sense of foreboding. He’d known the merger of 492nd and his own wouldn’t be smooth, but he wonders what the hell that had been about.
***
The next morning, Jungkook wakes to an ache in his neck from years of straining against g-forces and an erection that he takes care of in the shower. It’s been a while since he last got laid, he’s just come off a mission in the South.
He casts a cursory glance in the mirror as he gets dressed in his regs. His hair’s getting longer, starting to wave in a way it doesn’t when he’s on top of getting it cut regularly.
He’s going to need to stop by the barber later this morning.
The truth is, though, that Jungkook doesn’t think about the way he looks much. At least not in the way women seem to view him. He’d never thought twice about his eyes until an ex had snapped at him to ‘stop making those goddamn doe eyes’ at her. He’s always been athletic, the defined abs and shoulders he’s had since high school have only got more prominent since he started training more, eating well. He’d never really thought about his thighs until another ex had seemed to get off on how they felt under her.
So although he’s never had to make an effort to find a woman willing to sleep with him, Jungkook’s never been the type of guy to take advantage.
Jungkook’s always wanted to fly, and everything else has always, always, only ever been a means to that.
He laces his boots, right before left, and heads for the canteen. He picks up a tray, looks for somewhere to sit, really scanning for Jimin or Namjoon or Yoongi. He doesn’t see any of his friends, but he does see you.
You’re sitting alone by the window, conspicuous in your solitariness. Jungkook finds his feet taking him over to you, an instinct he doesn’t understand but he learned long ago to trust his gut.
You look up as he puts his tray down and takes the seat opposite you. You nod a greeting and carry on eating like you don’t intend to say anything to him.
Jungkook watches as you gulp your coffee.
‘You know, if you’re eating quicker to finish your meal and get away from me, you don’t have to,’ he tells you.
You put your empty cup down.
‘I can move,’ he offers.
‘It’s nothing like that, Commander Jeon,’ you say. Your face is expressionless, blank as usual. ‘I’m thinking about the day ahead.’
Jungkook spoons his porridge. ‘I didn’t mean to presume,’ he says. ‘Did the docs clear you for duty?’
There’s the barest flicker across your face as you reply. ‘I’ve been cleared. Jimin and Hyeok are off for a week.’
‘Want to tell me what happened?’ he asks.
Your eyes study his face, and if Jungkook didn’t already know you were holding back he’d have worked it out by the emotions he can see in your eyes.
Then you blink, and sit back.
‘I have nothing to say, Commander,’ you say.
You’ve decided not to trust him, and Jungkook’s irritated about it, enough that there’s an edge to his voice as he says, ‘there’s a flight exercise at 1200 hours. We’re going up in the F-15.’
You nod, and pick up your tray. ‘I’ll be there, Commander.’
Jungkook looks down at his now lukewarm porridge after you walk away. Somehow he’s lost his appetite.
***
It’s a beautiful day for flying. Jungkook’s cued up first, waiting for the go ahead from the control tower, that familiar electricity coursing through his veins. No matter how many times he suits up, it never gets old.
He flicks the engine switch, hand on the throttle, feet braced on the rudder pedals. He goes through the steps, 0 to 175 in under two minutes and then he’s off, positive rate of climb.
He can see in his helmet-mounted cueing system that everything’s as it should be. He evens out at fifty thousand feet, and checks his colour display to see you taking up wingman alongside him.
Your cool voice sounds in his in-ears, sounding like you’re in his head.
‘All good, Hawk?’
Jungkook knows that, as far as callsigns go, he’s fortunate to have been named ‘Hawk’, unlike Namjoon’s ‘Snoopy’ or Taehyung’s ‘Baby G’, but he’s never seen himself as a ‘hawk’. He much prefers Jimin’s ‘Durumi’.
He realises he doesn’t know your callsign.
‘It’s ‘Kokinchan’,’ you say, like you can hear the question he hasn’t voiced. ‘Like in Anpanman.’
The disgruntlement in your voice doesn’t stop the smile across Jungkook’s face, and he’s grateful you can’t see it.
‘Ok, Kokinchan. Ready to fly?’
By the time Jungkook lands on the tarmac, he’s learned two things about you. One, you’re a pretty steady, reliable wingman and two — totally unrelated to flying….
Your voice sounds incredible in his ear.
Initially, he’d thought you were a blank, difficult to read. Listening to you during the flight, he’d been able to pick up all your emotions in your voice. The lilt in your words as you’d executed a manoeuvre perfectly in sync with him, the hitch in your breathing as you’d taken in the glorious terrain. The last breathy gasp you’d let out before you’d landed, a release after the silent concentration that had preceeded it, had sent blood shooting to his cock.
Jungkook’s glad he’s still got his g-suit on to keep blood streaming to appropriate places in his body.
You clamber out of the cockpit, all legs, fizzing over with excitement, and catch up to him by the locker rooms.
Because he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, he sees the moment your dizzy expression smooths over into your usual deadpan face.
You haven’t quite managed to curb the emotion in your voice, though, and Jungkook has the uncharacteristic urge to pull you under his arm and squeeze you when you say, ‘incredible,’ voice vibrating.
Jungkook starts unzipping his g-suit to give himself something to do. Behind him, he can hear you rustling, getting changed yourself.
You spend time unlacing your boots, placing them carefully in your locker.
Jungkook’s amused by your persnicketiness, a stark contrast to the piles of boots scattered throughout the locker room.
He says, meaning it as a joke, ‘I don’t think anyone else wears your size.’
In his squadron, Jimin’s not a lot taller than you but his feet are definitely bigger than yours.
You don’t look his way. ‘I don’t want to share with a bunch of stinky male feet,’ you reply.
Jungkook’s so attuned to your voice by now he picks up a guardedness that he hasn’t heard since he met you that first time.
You don’t give him time to think about it.
When you turn to him, your expression is fractionally warmer than your customary blankness. ‘See you at lunch, Commander.’
***
He doesn’t see you at lunch. In fact, the next time Jungkook sees you, you’re wearing a short dress and leaning back against the bar in the nice restaurant in town.
He says your real name, and you give him a smile so pained he thinks for a second it isn’t you.
Then you say his name back.
‘I’m hiding,’ you say by way of explanation, manoeuvring yourself so that he’s between you and the rest of the room.
‘Need a wingman?’ Jungkook offers, for lack of anything better to say. You’re leaning forward, head close to his, and from this vantage point he can see down the low neck of your dress.
He forces his eyes back to your face. Thankfully you haven’t noticed his lapse.
You look morose. ‘I wish I had Snoopy to aim a laser at him,’ you reply. You brighten. ‘Maybe you could shoot him down.’
Jungkook’s only mildly concerned, he’s seen you being merciless in training exercises and he’s pretty sure you can look after yourself.
‘I don’t know why I bother to date,’ you sigh.
Then you seem to notice how smartly dressed he is. ‘Shit, sorry, are you meeting someone?’
‘She cancelled,’ Jungkook explains. ‘I have a table. I was looking forward to the wagyu.’
‘She’s a fool to cancel on you, look at you,’ you say, loyally.
‘Where’s your date?’ Jungkook asks.
‘I excused myself to use the ladies,’ you say, face falling as you remember your predicament. ‘He was explaining how the F-18 weapons systems work.’
‘He knows you fly them, doesn’t he?’ Jungkook asks, incredulous.
You roll your eyes. ‘Some men.’
You shrug. ‘I should fly one over his house,’ you say, despondent. ‘We haven’t even ordered and I’m looking forward to leaving.’
There’s an unfamiliar male voice over Jungkook’s shoulder.
‘There you are,’ says a good-looking, tall guy, smiling at you.
Jungkook’s always been quick on his feet.
He turns to face the guy. ‘Honey,’ he says, voice exasperated. ‘I thought we weren’t doing this anymore.’
You blink up at him, so quick he has whiplash. ‘Baby, he’s cute, you said —-‘
‘I’m sorry,’ Jungkook says to the guy, acting embarrassed. ‘We’re in an open marriage but well, we agreed to —-‘
You slide smoothly up to him, hand hooking into the crook of his arm like you’ve done it a million times before. ‘But daddy —-‘
Jungkook stares you down sternly. ‘We said no more pickups unless we talk about it beforehand. And where’s your wedding ring?’
You pout up at him. ‘Daddy I can’t pick up guys with a wedding ring on.’
Jungkook sighs, turning back to your unfortunate date. ‘Sorry, man. We need to talk —-‘
The guy’s already backing away, hands up. ‘I had no idea,’ he says to Jungkook. ‘That she was married.’
Jungkook waves him away and turns back to you.
‘Daddy?’ he asks, under his breath. ‘Do I seem like a daddy to you?’
‘He’s out the door,’ you report, gracing him with a smile so bright he can’t help but smile back. ‘Do you still have your table? I like wagyu too.’
‘You’re buying, Kokinchan,’ Jungkook grumbles.
‘I’ll even spring for dessert,’ you promise.
***
The steak’s as buttery and delicious as Jungkook had expected, going down easy with the wine you’d ordered with a careless gesture at the wine list.
You’re concentrating on your steak, humming as you enjoy it, and Jungkook likes watching you.
‘Why Kokinchan?’ he asks.
You narrow your eyes at him, skin gleaming in the candlelight. ‘I made Minseok cry once. And I cried too.’
‘What happened?’
‘Dropped the weight I was holding on his balls.’ You grimace. ‘He cried and I felt so bad I cried too, running him to the infirmary.’
‘On purpose?’
There’s a shadow across your expression. ‘Hyeok thought it’d be funny to sneak up on me and grab my ass. Minseok was a bystander.’
Jungkook’s got the sense there’s more to the story you’re not telling him.
You shrug and change the subject.
‘So how come your date ditched you?’ you ask. ‘Apart from that she’s an idiot, of course.’
‘Of course,’ agrees Jungkook, smiling crookedly at you.
It’s his turn to shrug. ‘Maybe she turned up and didn’t like the look of me.’
You scoff. ‘Please, you look great. That shade of blue suits you. Better than khaki and black, anyway. I didn’t know you had a lip ring.’
Jungkook’s trying to keep up. ‘I like wearing black.’
‘We wear black all the time,’ you reply. You gesture to the silvery dress you have on. ‘It’s nice to wear something else.’
Jungkook’s trying to think of something to say when you say, quickly. ‘I’m not fishing for a compliment. Just to clarify.’
‘I wasn’t going to give you one,’ he says, honestly.
You laugh. ‘Shit. Thanks, I guess.’
You lift your wine and clink glasses with him.
‘Cheers, Hawk. What do you want for dessert?’
***
Jungkook pays the taxi driver and is wondering if he should offer you his jacket when he realises you’re already halfway to the block of living quarters.
‘Wait up,’ he calls.
You wave a graceful arm at him without turning around. ‘I don’t put out on a first date, not even for a man who can fire a cannon.’
Jungkook stops, torn between amusement and exasperation.
‘I just wanted to say thanks for dinner,’ he says.
You turn, and he realises you’re more off-balance than he originally thought.
‘How drunk are you?’ he wonders out loud.
You tip your head to one side, counting.
Jungkook stares at you, brow furrowed.
‘Three,’ you say, decisive. ‘There are three of you.’
You shake your head. ‘No, four.’
‘Need help getting into your flat?’ Jungkook asks, rolling his eyes.
You frown at him, offended. ‘Of course not. See you at training tomorrow, Commander.’
You give him a tipsy salute and turn away.
Jungkook waits until you’re safely inside the building anyway.
***
Jungkook looks up as you slide into your seat in the briefing room. You’re technically right on time, but everyone else arrived ten minutes early.
You give him a tentative smile that he doesn’t have time to return.
Colonel Park, a decorated veteran and director of the fighter pilot programme, clears his throat and begins.
Jungkook already knows about this upcoming mission, as leader of the 490th squadron, he’s been pre-briefed.
On the surface, it’s simple enough. The mission only needs four pilots, two to make a drop and two to create a diversion and cover the drop.
Jimin, back from medical leave and none the worse for wear, nods his way.
After the brief he comes up to Jungkook.
‘Flip for it?’ he says, that familiar shit-eating grin on his face as Jungkook rolls his eyes.
Jungkook’s the most decorated pilot in the squadron but Jimin’s a close second.
Jungkook shrugs.
Jimin produces a coin and flips it onto his palm.
‘Heads,’ Jungkook calls.
It’s tails.
‘Great. I’ll make the drop, you provide the distraction. Also, you get Kokinchan,’ Jimin says.
‘Shit, did they just flip for us?’ Taehyung asks, nudging you, pretending to be offended.
You shrug. ‘All you boys look the same in my afterburner,’ you say, to a chorus of whoops from Jimin and Taehyung.
Jungkook catches your gaze. ‘If your trash talk’s as good as your flying, Kokinchan, we’ve got this,’ he says, easy.
‘My flying’s even better, Hawk, it’s your lucky day.’
Jungkook laughs and follows you to the locker rooms to suit up.
***
You’re tight on Jungkook’s tail, keeping up with him even though the terrain’s unfamiliar to you both.
He pulls his nose up. There’s a SMARD missile a few hundred meters away that he’s intentionally going to fly within radar detection range of, and then he’s relying on his own flying and your flares to evade.
He’s activating his mic to speak when your voice sounds in his in-ears.
‘Flares are ready when you are, Hawk.’
‘Glad you’re paying attention, baby.’
‘Maybe I’ll let them burn your ass for that.’
‘Sorry, Kokinchan. If it helps, I once called Durumi, baby. He’s never let me live it down.’
‘Durumi’s kind of a baby though, I see it.’
Jungkook laughs.
‘Let’s go, Kokinchan.’
He adjusts his position, heading straight for the target.
He’s just entered the detection zone when his in-ears crackle with the voice of Hyemi from control.
Jungkook has a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
‘Hawk, there’s a bandit, due North.’
It’s one thing to evade a SMARD, it’s another to evade a SMARD with a bandit, a hostile plane on you.
You’re already descending, trying to get out of range on the off-chance that Jungkook hasn’t triggered the SMARD.
He admires your optimism but he’s a realist.
Your voice is steady in his in-ears. ‘Ready to drop, Hawk.’
Jungkook says, terse, ‘Stay on me.’
He sees smoke, pulls back on the throttle, hard, to ascend, and you drop your flares like you’ve rehearsed it.
Your timing’s impeccable.
The SMARD zips past Jungkook just as you say, ‘don’t think he just wants to say ‘hi’’.
The bandit’s approaching too fast, right in your flight path.
He can hear you shouting, but he can’t make out any actual words apart from ‘motherfucker’, clear as day, as you fire your cannon.
The bandit implodes in front of them, a ball of burning shrapnel.
Then ‘ah shit, Hawk, I’m an engine down.’
Jungkook’s reassured by the tone of your voice, calm despite the fact you’re two octaves higher in pitch than you normally are.
‘Hey,’ he says, going for levity because you need to detach yourself from what’s just happened before the adrenaline overwhelms you. ‘Is that why they call you Kokinchan?’
‘Why?’ you ask, playing along, grasping at the hope of a punchline that you can actually laugh at to release some of the tension.
‘Because of that squeaky voice,’ he says.
His stupid joke doesn’t warrant the full-bodied laugh you let out, but Jungkook likes hearing it all the same.
‘You know what they really call you, Hawk?’
‘What?’ Jungkook asks, watching you carefully as you head back to base.
‘The boba-eyed fuckboi.’
‘Shut up, no one calls me that.’
You both laugh.
Then, soft in his in-ears. ‘I can make it back with one engine right?’
‘Yeah,’ he says immediately, wanting to reassure you. ‘Just don’t break the other one.’
‘Yeah. See you on the ground, Hawk.’
‘I’ll be in your afterburner, Kokinchan.’
The last thing he hears before you land is your soft laughter.
He’s reminded again of how much he likes the way you sound.
***
Jungkook climbs out of his cockpit, looking around for you.
He finds you hunched over a bin next to the hangar, eyes watering, hand on your stomach.
Wordlessly, he hands you his water.
You flick your eyes at him as you accept and take a big swig, wiping your mouth.
Jungkook leans against the wall next to you, head back, not wanting you to feel like he’s intruding. The setting sun warms the skin on his face and neck.
When he opens his eyes, you’re looking at him.
The ends of your hair are on fire, backlit by the sunset.
You’re beautiful.
‘I’ve —‘ you stop, swallow. ‘I’ve never killed someone before, Hawk.’
Jungkook knows what you’re really asking. He’s taken down two fighters in combat because he had to. It’d taken him a while to feel normal again.
He’s not sure he even still knows what normal is.
‘You think about it less over time,’ he says carefully, wanting to reassure you but not wanting to give you unrealistic expectations.
You’re looking at him intently, searching his face.
Jungkook lets you look, stays still, gazing back at you steadily, unflinching, until you find whatever it is you’re looking for.
You both seem to realise how close you’re standing to each other at the same time.
You take a step back because he can’t, pressed with his back against the wall.
‘Hey, let’s get a beer,’ he says.
‘You buying?’ you ask, reverting to your default spiky personality.
Jungkook has the urge to hug you, to tell you that you don’t have to put up your spikes with him, that he’ll toe whatever boundaries you put in front of him.
Instead he says, ‘yeah. I’ll even spring for dinner, Kokinchan.’
Back at the locker room you drop your boots next to his. ‘I think I dropped my locker keys,’ you say, frowning.
Jungkook says, gently, ‘you don’t have to worry about me stealing your boots.’
Again, he gets the odd sense that he’s missing something when he sees your expression.
All you say is, ‘I’d like Italian for dinner please, Hawk.’
Jungkook’s ready to buy you whatever you want to eat.
***
The restaurant’s busy for a Thursday but Jungkook gets you in, no problem. He doesn’t even have to use his ‘boba eyes’ although he’s sure that’s not a thing.
You’re smiling at him, open and so pretty he’s wondering how inappropriate it would be to kiss you, when your eyes focus on something behind him.
The guarded, carefully blank expression that drops across your face reminds him of curtains being drawn, of shutters being snapped shut.
‘Hyeok,’ you say tightly, and Jungkook doesn’t have to know you well, at all, to hear the tension in your voice.
Your shoulders are around your ears.
Jungkook feels tense himself as Hyeok and Sungcheol, another pilot from 492nd, stop by the table.
‘Hey, Kokinchan,’ Hyeok says.
The words are harmless enough, but Jungkook doesn’t like the way he sounds. He especially doesn’t like the way he looks at you.
Hyeok nods to Jungkook. ‘Commander.’
‘Heard you took down an F-15 today,’ Hyeok says.
‘What’s your point?’ you ask, voice low, barely veiled hostility in your eyes.
Jungkook wants to tell you he’s got you but you’re not even looking at him.
‘Is that what it takes to get the Commander to buy you dinner?’ Hyeok asks.
The insinuation is clear.
‘Why don’t you try it and let me know?’ you ask.
There’s a taunting, defiant note in your voice that Jungkook can’t help but admire.
He stands. ‘If you’ll excuse us, I promised Kokinchan dinner for saving our asses earlier,’ he says firmly, indicating they should move on.
When he sits back down you’re quiet until he says, ‘hey.’
The look you give him is very different from how you’d been until now. He’s reminded of that first time he sat across from you at breakfast, how you’d finished your scalding hot coffee in record time in your haste to move.
‘Why are fighter pilots such assholes,’ you mutter.
‘I don’t know. A baseline disrespect for authority or anyone who tells us ‘no’? A deluded sense of god-like power from cheating death repeatedly?’
You’re looking at him again, and Jungkook’s not going to let you hide back in your shell.
‘You and I are still the same, Kokinchan, and today we’ve earned these carbs. Eat up.’
‘I didn’t know you’d ever met a carb,’ you say, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips now.
‘Thank you for noticing,’ Jungkook says, flexing.
The smile on your face is brief, only lasting the gap between bites, but it’s enough for Jungkook.
By the time dessert comes round Jungkook’s gently teasing you, revelling in your embarrassment as he reminds you about the choice swear words you shouted into his in-ears during the mission.
‘You’re one to talk,’ you say. ‘You sound really breathy when you’re gaining altitude.’
Jungkook raises a brow.
‘It’s practically pornographic,’ you continue.
Jungkook rolls his eyes. ‘Please, Durumi is more pornographic than me. You should hear him when he’s pushing g’s.’
‘Oh my god, Baby G’s the worst,’ you say, but there’s affection in your voice.
‘That’s because his voice is sexy as a baseline,’ Jungkook points out.
‘Yeah, we used to share a flat before I got fed up with hearing all his sex talk,’ you say.
‘He does seem like the kind of guy who’d talk a lot during sex,’ Jungkook agrees.
‘Just noises are fine for me thanks, throw in a couple of oh baby’s and I’m good,’ you say, lightly.
Jungkook realises you’ve made it all the way to your door.
You say, ‘thanks for dinner, Hawk,’ but you don’t move, standing with your back pressed against the door.
Jungkook feels like he’s not ready to say goodbye, but he’s not going to push you into anything.
‘It does get better,’ he tells you.
You smile. ‘The aftermath of taking down another pilot or Baby G’s sex talk? Because Taehyung only gets worse, I can tell you.’
You’re joking of course, deflecting again.
Jungkook can feel your eyes on his face.
He leans forward a little, putting his weight on the closed door, giving you time to move if you want to.
Instead you stay put, face tilted to his.
There’s no reason to be standing like this apart from that he very badly wants to kiss you.
‘Hawk,’ you breathe. You’re reaching up, pressing a chaste, sweet kiss to his cheek.
‘Thanks for dinner.’
Jungkook smiles at you. ‘Anytime, Kokinchan.’
You smile at him again, then turn and let yourself into your apartment.
Jungkook’s left with a vague tightness in his pants and a sense that this thing with you could be something good if you let it.
***
Jungkook wakes the next morning thinking of you.
His hand brushes his erect cock, fingers tightening around himself.
He pumps his fist once, the memory of your pretty lips on his cheek making his dick harden even more.
He’s no virgin but the thought of getting to see you in the pale lace lingerie he’d glimpsed that night he’d run into you at that restaurant and accidentally looked down the low neck of your top makes him keep moving his fist.
Shit. Is he really doing this?
Even as he ponders the morality of it his hands are moving, uncapping the lube he keeps under his mattress like he’s some teenager and not a full grown adult who changes his own sheets.
Jungkook groans at the slide, dick hardening even more as he remembers how firm your breasts felt against his chest when you kissed him.
Fuck, you’d kissed him! With those lips he’s been a little too respectful to imagine around his cock.
God, you’d smelled so good.
He’s gasping now, hand moving faster, other hand cupping his balls.
He thinks of the breathy gasp you’d let out when you landed the F-15, the way your voice sounds when you say ‘fuck’ and he’s gone.
As he’s cleaning up he wonders, a little guiltily, whether he’ll be able to look you in the face at breakfast.
***
As it turns out, he doesn’t see you at breakfast.
He’s picking up his gear from the locker room, when he notices that your boots have moved from where they were next to his.
He frowns. It takes him a while to spot them, longer to realise why they look odd.
Your laces have been cut, all the way across the middle, laid open, useless.
He picks them up, heads for the mess lounge.
Stops in front of the stupid bulletin board no one ever looks at, including him.
There’s a picture of you, but not as he’s ever seen you before.
It’s your face, certainly, pretty and smiling, stuck onto a printout of a naked female body.
It’s glaring, crude, invasive.
Jungkook stares at it incredulously, startles guiltily when he hears your voice.
You tear it off the bulletin board, crumpling it in your fist.
‘I’d chuck it in the trash but there’s no guarantee someone wouldn’t just lift it out and put it up again,’ you say, voice carefully, cautiously flat.
You nod to the boots in his hand.
‘I have a new set of laces, I always have a spare pair with me,’ you say.
Jungkook lets you take the boots from him.
He finds his voice.
‘Has this happened before, Y/N?’
You wince at the sound of your real name instead of your callsign.
You shrug.
‘I don’t have anything to say about it, Commander.’
Like you, Jungkook blinks at the sting of his title instead of the more familiar ‘Hawk’ he’d got accustomed to you calling him.
‘Kokinchan,’ he says, willing you to trust him.
You’re looking above his head, through him instead of at him.
‘I can help. If someone in the squadron is doing all this I can help make it stop,’ Jungkook says.
You’re looking at him now, eyes softening.
‘It’s a society that enables this kind of hateful misogyny that has to change, Hawk, not you.’
There’s a sadness to your smile that punches him in the chest.
You turn, back straight, and leave the room as he’s trying to think of something to say.
***
You’re sitting with Jimin at dinner when Jungkook turns up.
‘You ok?’ Jungkook asks. He hasn’t seen you since the lounge, he’d had to go to another brief.
Your expression is difficult to read.
‘I’m good, Hawk. Heard you got called in by Colonel Park.’
Jimin’s looking at him expectantly, so Jungkook allows the change of subject.
‘We’ve got another job to do,’ he says, reluctantly. ‘We’ll get a full brief tomorrow but it’s another drop.’
‘Who’s going?’ Jimin asks.
‘We need six,’ Jungkook says, ‘and two alternates.’
He looks at you.
‘You’re flying with Skua.’
Skua is Hyeok’s callsign.
‘Fuck that. I’ll fly with Skua,’ Jimin says, instantly, vehement. ‘You can’t put Kokinchan in with that asshole.’
You’re looking at Jungkook, expression blank. It’s only the tenseness in your shoulders that gives any sign that any of this affects you.
‘I’m guessing you and Durumi are up front, and me and Skua and Baby G and Snoopy are wingmen?’
Jungkook says, ‘if you and Skua have a problem you need to let me know.’
He’s open to changing things around, hell, he’ll lie through his teeth if there’s any genuine risk from pairing you with Skua.
He’ll get you the hell out if you ask.
Instead you say, ‘there’s no problem, Hawk.’
‘That asshole —-‘ Jimin starts indignantly.
You put your hand on his arm. ‘Durumi, I can’t fly if I can’t work in a team with everyone,’ you say.
‘Swap me out with Baby G, he can fly lead and Snoopy and Skua can pair up. I’ll fly with Kokinchan,’ Jimin says to Jungkook.
You say, so lightly Jungkook’s almost fooled, ‘you’re too good to fly wing, Jimin. Also, come on, me and Skua have flown together before.’
Jimin argues, ‘before he tried to grab your ass? Before he tried to pull your top down? Before the hundredth time he cut your laces? Before he left that obscene picture of you on the billboard?’
Jungkook’s stunned. ‘It was Hyeok who did all that?’
You say, very firmly, ‘I can’t prove that he cut my laces or printed that picture.’
You put your hand on Jimin’s arm again. ‘Jimin, if I made a formal complaint, you know I’d be grounded whilst an investigation took place.’
Jungkook says, ‘you wouldn’t be grounded—‘
He breaks off at the look you give him.
‘He’s never done anything whilst we’ve been flying,’ you point out. ‘He wants to fly just as much as I do, as we all do.’
You’re pushing away from the dinner table, lifting your tray.
‘It’ll be fine, Hawk,’ you say. You put your hand on Jimin’s shoulder, and, reluctantly, he puts his hand over yours.
‘I’m gonna get some downtime before tomorrow,’ you say.
You’re walking away like there’s nothing left to say.
***
You’re almost late again, sliding in the seat next to Jungkook at the brief the next morning with barely thirty seconds to spare.
He glances at you.
Your hair is pulled back, the collar of your jumpsuit folded neatly.
You’re crisp, clean, and you give him a smile so detached he wants to shake you.
The brief is quick, it’s a route you’ve all flown before, and you’ve been training together for weeks now.
Jungkook’s getting changed into his g-suit when he realises you’re not in the locker room with the rest of the team.
He’s about to go looking for you, when you emerge from the single shower cubicle, fully suited up.
‘Thanks, Durumi,’ you say quietly.
Jimin’s been getting changed himself outside the cubicle door whilst you got changed inside, blocking any access to you.
Jimin replies, ‘no problem, Kokinchan. Laces all good?’
Jungkook looks at your feet and realises you’ve swapped out your regulation black laces for bright orange.
‘They’re great,’ you say, beaming at him. ‘Aren’t they, Hawk?’
‘You’ll be visible from space in those,’ teases Jungkook.
You raise an eyebrow warily. ‘What’s behind this, Hawk?’
Jungkook says, ‘Colonel Park felt Baby G needed a push to step up.’
You’re not letting him off the hook that easily. ‘Did you suggest it to him?’
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook confesses. He says, carefully, ‘I spoke to Hyeok.’
You’re quiet, guarded. ‘What did he say?’
Jungkook’s got no desire to go over the comments Hyeok had made about you.
‘He didn’t help himself,’ Jungkook says, finally.
You’ve reached the F-18. You climb into the front seat.
From where he’s sat in the back Jungkook can’t see your face clearly.
You connect your helmet, turn on your mic.
‘I don’t know whether it’s worse to have someone be contemptuous of you or to feel sorry for you,’ you say.
Jungkook’s scrambling for something to say, but you’re not waiting for him to speak anyway, nodding to your tech.
You give the signal, the canopy comes down and then you’re going through your checks, flipping switches, checking your status with control.
Then you’re speeding down the runway, burning your way into the horizon.
***
Jungkook’s concentrating, focusing in on your target as you navigate the terrain.
You’re fast, confident, and Jungkook likes your style.
For making a drop though, your speed means his window for firing is limited if you’re to have any hope of hitting your target.
Neither of you can afford to mess up the timing.
Up ahead, Baby G and Durumi are blazing through, and Snoopy’s timed the first drop beautifully.
You descend smoothly, and Jungkook’s knows he’s timed it perfectly when the target implodes.
You’ve already got the throttle pulled back, hissing through your teeth at the g-forces holding you down, fighting through it.
Then you’re gliding, evening out.
You sigh shakily, and Jungkook, on autopilot, checks his peripherals.
There’s smoke.
‘Shit.’
‘What is it Hawk?’ you ask, instantly on guard.
Jungkook knows you’re a good pilot, but in this moment he sure as hell wishes he was in the driving seat.
‘It’s an MD45,’ he says, clear, calm.
You’re quiet a moment.
An MD45 is tech beyond your own military capabilities, a missile that’s reportedly impossible to evade.
Two of your own were taken out by an MD45 last month.
You say, ‘well shit.’
Jungkook’s thinking of your squadron in front of you and the terrain up ahead.
‘How do you feel about flying into the side of a mountain, Kokinchan?’
‘At this speed, our time to die is five seconds, if that, Commander,’ you say. To your credit, your voice is steady, neutral, as you process his words.
‘Have you ejected before?’ Jungkook asks.
‘I usually wait for a third date before I let a guy eject on me,’ you say.
Jungkook’s bark of laughter surprises you both.
‘I guess we’re going to second base. Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it good for you.’
He can see the craggy rock of the side of the mountain coming up fast.
It takes four seconds from pulling the ejection handle to being ejected.
The speed you’re going, it’ll be ten seconds to impact.
A time to die of ten seconds.
‘Canopy the fuck up, Hawk,’ you say, turning the plane.
He can see you reaching down between your legs, pulling up the ejection handle.
Four.
A beat of total stillness.
Three.
The canopy slides back, bringing with it a rush of wind.
Two.
Jungkook can’t hear anything but the pounding of his heart, can’t see anything but the back of your helmet, the way your shoulders are squared.
One.
Jungkook closes his eyes as he’s shot into the sky.
Below him, there’s the sense of tremendous impact as the F-15 flies straight into the mountain, followed by the MD45.
Jungkook’s chute unfolds, a ceiling of cream protecting him from the sky.
He wonders where you are.
***
When he opens his eyes, there’s a swirling blue sky above him, clouds floating across his field of view.
He’s on his back. He can move all his limbs.
Jungkook unclips his harness and rolls out of his landing gear.
He sits up, slowly, taking stock of his injuries. Apart from an almighty crick in his neck and grazes on both his knees, he’s unharmed.
Now he’s looking for you, squinting against the sun.
There’s a spill of cream a hundred feet away, so much parachute he can’t even see you.
He approaches, lifting the parachute, looking for you amidst the folds of fabric.
There’s a flash of neon orange laces, a booted foot, and Jungkook drops to his knees as he tugs the material off you.
Your arms are strapped in, a safety mechanism in your flight jacket. It looks like you landed on your back. You’re still out cold.
He touches your face.
‘Kokinchan.’
He can hear the panic in his voice. He doesn’t sound like himself.
Fair enough. He doesn’t feel like himself.
He’s checking you over for injuries when he hears your voice.
‘Fuck,’ you say, peeking down at him. ‘Thank fuck you swapped out with Skua.’
Jungkook’s leaning over you, close to your face.
Your smile makes him feel like he can breathe again.
Apparently you feel the same.
‘Hey, Hawk,’ you say, pulling him down to you. ‘Can we go to third base now?’
Jungkook’s lips are already pressed to your skin, next to your mouth.
You turn your head the slightest fraction, and your lips meet.
The adrenaline washes out of his veins, replaced by a sweet, singing pleasure as he kisses you.
Your hands grab fistfuls of his g-suit, tight, as you part your lips and take him in.
‘Fuck, Hawk, fuck,’ you murmur, breathless, warm, gasping as he leaves your lips to kiss around to your ear, down your neck.
Jungkook reaches for the zipper down your front only to realise you’ve beaten him to it.
He tries for his own zipper, realises you’ve beaten him to that too.
‘Let me help, Kokinchan,’ he says. He means it to sound teasing but it comes out urgent, breathy.
‘Don’t make me wait, Hawk,’ you reply.
Jungkook’s tugging down your undersuit, revealing pink lace, so pretty he wonders if the fall affected his vision.
He splays his hand over your panties, dizzy, elated, verging on drunken wonder.
‘Are you always this pretty?’ he wonders. ‘All this under that stupid flight suit?’
He’s rubbing his thumb over your cunt, and the way you whimper and roll up into his hand makes him realise how hard he’s getting.
You cup his face. ‘I need you, Hawk,’ you plead.
‘I’m here,’ he says, pulling his own suit down, pushing his undersuit down just enough.
Then he’s on top of you, pushing into you, trying not to come as you take all of him inside you and wrap your arms around him like you’re afraid he’ll leave.
Jungkook can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
He can’t think.
So he moves, because if nothing else he knows how to do this, even when you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere and you’ve just crashed a fucking plane into a fucking mountain and almost fucking died in the process.
He knows how to do this, knows how to please you.
He moves, holds on long enough to hear you crying out his name as you come, holds on long enough to reach his own pleasure.
Then you’re sobbing, tears on his neck as he holds you, and then, fuck all this shit, Jungkook’s crying too.
***
Jungkook’s amused to know you tuck a credit card in one of your breast pockets whenever you fly, for the express purpose of if you ever got stranded anywhere.
He’s grateful when your credit card gets you a hire car.
He’s laughing when you discover he also carries his wallet and ID whenever he flies but didn’t bother to tell you, enjoying how goshdarned cute you were when you waved your credit card at him triumphantly.
Jungkook volunteers to drive, and you badger him until he stops at a gas station for snacks.
It’s not badgering, even though you seem to think it is. He likes it.
Now you’re in the passenger seat, reclined all the way back, looking up through the sunroof, singing along to digital radio, getting all the words wrong.
When he joins in you stop and stare at him.
‘What?’ he asks, self-conscious.
‘You have a pretty voice, Hawk,’ you tell him.
It’s not the first time he’s heard it, but he likes hearing it from you.
You put your hand on his arm, tracing along his skin.
You’re both stripped down to your regs, plain t-shirts and pants, your helmets and g-suits, your survival kits in the backseat.
You keep looking over at him, oohing and aahing over his tattoos.
Jungkook holds out as long as he can, but when the sun starts to set and you’re still looking at him like you can’t stop he pulls the car over and makes love to you in the backseat.
It’s all new still, a little awkward but Jungkook doesn’t care because he’s already decided he wants to learn all of you.
He wants to know you, to treasure you.
You’re sat up, holding on to his shoulders, bodies sated but still pressed against each other.
‘Hawk,’ you say, nudging under his chin with your nose.
Jungkook opens his eyes. ‘You’re insatiable, Kokinchan.’
‘It’s not that, you idiot,’ you say, although you’re giggling at him. ‘Can I drive?’
‘The last time you drove us, we flew into the side of a mountain and cost the government just over a mil,’ Jungkook points out.
‘You told me to!’ you say, indignant.
Jungkook kisses your sweaty cheek, twice because he wanted more after the first one.
You turn your head to kiss him full on the lips, slip him some tongue.
Jungkook reaches up to pull you closer, but you’re already pulling away, pulling up those lacy panties, covering up your pretty ass that Jungkook would look at until he went blind if you let him.
‘I want more,’ Jungkook tells you.
You pause with your hands on your pants button. ‘Me too, Hawk.’
‘I’m not –’
He waits until you look at him again.
‘I don’t just mean sex,’ Jungkook says.
You turn to face him. There’s a hesitant note in your voice.
‘I put in a transfer request yesterday,’ you say. Your eyes search his face. ‘I’ve requested a move to 489th, under Min Yoongi.’
Jungkook’s surprised. ‘Were you going to tell me?’
‘Right after the mission,’ you say, instantly, so convincing he doesn’t doubt your honesty.
‘It’s just easier,’ you continue. ‘I’ve worked with him before. There’s another woman in his squadron. There’s no Skua.’
Jungkook’s still looking at you.
‘I don’t have to worry about the man I’m dating being put in a difficult position.’
Jungkook’s so busy thinking about your words it takes him a while to realise what you’ve said.
‘I don’t just want to date you,’ he says, finally.
Your smile is so bright he kisses you again.
‘We should take it slow,’ you say, but there’s a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.
Jungkook asks, ‘When have you or I ever done that?’
‘There’s a first time for everything,’ you say.
Jungkook reaches out and grabs your hand as you’re climbing out to get into the driver’s seat.
‘We can go as slow as you want, Kokinchan.’
***
Jungkook hovers above the runway, having cut his speed to the point that he’s at a complete standstill in the air.
Like this, he can barely tell he’s flying.
A flick of a button and he’s into another vertical descent.
This time, it’s perfect. Even he can’t fault it.
He climbs out of the cockpit and steps down onto the runway tarmac.
He glances at his watch. He was meant to meet you for dinner tonight, he’s got enough time to pick you up some flowers before he meets you.
At first he thinks it’s a trick of the light, but when you start walking towards him he realises it really is you.
You’re so pretty in your dress, Jungkook stops in his tracks just to watch you.
You stop just in front of him, shorter than usual without your boots.
He has to lean down a little more to kiss you but he doesn’t mind.
You roll your eyes as he takes the opportunity to squeeze your ass under the pretense of lifting you up more to reach him.
‘Hawk,’ you chide.
‘Kokinchan,’ he teases, dragging out the syllables like you did with his callsign.
He keeps his arm around you as you walk towards the locker rooms together.
‘What do you want for dinner, Kokinchan?’
‘Can we have dessert first?’ you ask, feigning innocence, looking up at him through your lashes.
God, he loves the look of you.
‘Yeah,’ Jungkook agrees, readily. He leans down to kiss you again. ‘Anything you want.’
⇝ title: hours
⇝ pairing: jungkook x f!reader
⇝ genre: humor, i think? | neighbors to lovers | smut | implied unestablished relationship to established relationship
⇝ summary: You walk across the hall and visit your neighbor Jungkook every Wednesday to drink, chill, sing some karaoke… watch some Netflix. But you always end up wobbling back to your apartment after hours of doing all kind of unholy things. Not tonight.
⇝ rating: 18+
⇝ word count: 3k
⇝ warnings: alcohol consumption | strong language | they’re both kind of bratty but cute | mentions birth control | pussy eating | edging | fingering | unprotected sex | pull out method | cervix touching/bulging | jungkook has a lip piercing and a septum piercing | uhh he puts his nose in her coochie lol | light tit slapping | teasing | throat grabbing | dirty talk | breath play | hairstyling (wink, wink) | missionary | cum shots | squirting | slight dom!jk | nipple sucking | breath play | crying | ass worshiping | aftercare | bam makes an appearance | naked jk… yes this is a warning and you will see why | i brought up BTR, i need to apologize immediately for that | discussions about relationships | i think that’s all
⇝ author’s note: she’s here, bitches!!!! lol thank you @m1sss1mp and @monvante for putting posters of this man all over my blog. this fic is for the both of you. thank you so much for holding my hand through it all. thank you @baljinciaga for beta’ing and screaming in the comments because you gave me the confidence to post this lol. listen, i’m rusty with the smut y’all so i apologize if it’s a mess. anyway, i hope you enjoy. this has been beta’d but there’s still probably some errors since i changed some things after it was beta read.
[Summary]: How does one live when life is bound to end?
[Theme]: Terminally Ill Reader, Non Idol AU, CEO Jungkook AU, Engaged AU, Married AU
[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes and innuendoes, a truly heart wrenching piece. Please read with caution and with full intent to break your own heart.
[Word Count]: 22,212
[A/N]: I truly broke my soul with this one. If you really want to cry, listen to my muse for this piece: “When She Loved Me” by Sarah McClain (yes, the one from Toy Story)
i knew it was gonna be heart wrenching but did i still choose to read this in my own Accord??? yes i very much did and now i just fell to my knees at walmart sobbing crying and throwing up
Summary: Alex and Jungkook have been best friends since childhood –actual best friends. She is NOT in love with him, for real, and wishes people would stop assuming that. Why does no one question if he’s in love with her? Huh? But it might have to do with his successful fuckboy status, while Alex is very much… not that. Which is fine and doesn’t matter! Until Jimin’s impending wedding leaves her eager for a date and willing to put herself out there, and Jungkook can’t believe what happens next.
Fuckboy Best Friend JK x OC
CW and tags: fuckboy behavior, jealousy, pining, heartbreak, angst, bad language, explicit sex, sexy photos, alcohol, f2l, who knows what else
Read on AO3 here or below
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“Now she’s been talking about him nonstop since they got back,” Jungkook vented to Nate as they sorted and stored inventory in the back. “It’s annoying as shit. Like all she wants to do is tell me– just every little thing they did–”
“A play by play of their sex?” Nate asked, grimacing.
“Yeah! I mean it’s not like we don’t ever talk about sex but I don’t go into fucking detail–”
“How much detail are we talking?” Nate interrupted. “She’s telling you he shaves his ball and what his stroke-game–”
“No no not that kind of detail but I know how many times they had sex and how many times she came and that she blew him and he went down on her and that she didn’t expect to like it but she did,” Jungkook sighed and rattled off despite that sick clench of his stomach again. It was stupid. “Look, I’m not queasy about a play by play.”
Nate snickered, “Yeah, I know.”
“But she’s not another guy. It’s not actually like talking to– I’m a guy. She’s a girl. Does she think I just tell her this level of– I mean, we live together, it’s not like she doesn’t know I fuck around and we joke about things a lot, but I don’t come home and give her this serious run of show. I just tell her things to make her laugh!”
“Even if you did, it’s not like she knows the girls, right?”
“Right!” Jungkook shouted, appreciating the point. “I have to be around her boyfriend and know he made her cum four times and she was afraid she’d crush his head with her thighs when he ate her out–” He broke off because Nate had slumped against the boxes laughing.
“Why do girls always worry about that?!”
“Yeah I don't know.”
“I mean the girls I fuck are sticks and they’ll be like ‘oh sorry I don’t want to hurt you.’ Bitch you’re squeezing two spaghetti noodles on my ears. You wish you had that thigh power!”
Jungkook gave a non-committal laugh because he didn’t want the subject to veer off just yet. He wasn’t done venting. He needed to empty himself of these things before he had to go grocery shopping with Alex later today. He was maxed out at the way she floated around the apartment, every few minutes remembering some new detail from her trip she needed to impart on Jungkook.
Great, she had a good time at snooty Lakeville with her formerly-corporate older boyfriend who made her cum four times and was apparently good with his tongue. Cool, Jungkook was good with his tongue too, Hoseok was nothing special. But she talked about him like he hung the moon just because she’d finally gotten a good lay and Jungkook wanted to be happy for her, but it was just too much. It wasn’t like they invented fucking!
“It’s like she forgot that just because we’re best friends doesn’t mean I’m another one of the girls,” Jungkook said. “It’s not just about having to see this guy around all the time and think about the depraved things he did to my friend, it’s also about just TMI of her in that context, you know? I don’t need to know what my roommate’s pussy sounds like–”
“She told you?!” Nate gasped.
“No, I’m being metaphorical.”
“Ahh, ok, dude, I was going to say… but yeah this is a platonic roommate, right? So why is she telling you all of this unless she’s trying to lure you in?”
Jungkook froze, stack of phone boxes cradled in his arms, and repeated, “Lure me in?”
“Like you said, why’s she telling you all this shit? She has girl friends, right? Unless she’s telling you to make you curious, yeah?” Nate wiggled his eyebrows.
Jungkook immediately propelled back into motion and assured him, “No no it’s definitely not that.”
“I don’t know, man, what girl tells her guy friend ‘my boyfriend fucked me this good’ unless she’s hinting ‘think you can do better?’”
“It’s definitely not that,” Jungkook assured him, immediately regretting this conversation now. Nate was an idiot. Total fucking moron, that guy, Jungkook should have known better. The slight embellishments Jungkook had given to the things Alex had actually said, to make it a funnier story to Nate, had confused the guy. It wasn’t like she’d told him what Hoseok’s stroke game was, she’d just said he made her cum four times and she was sore now. He definitely didn’t think she had meant think you can do better, baby?
Although obviously, objectively, he could. He had way more practice than Hoseok, he was sure of that, and while every woman was different, he had a wider sampling. It wasn’t like Hoseok came into this knowing anything more about how to fuck Alex good than Jungkook did; in fact Jungkook knew a lot more about Alex than Hoseok did so–
Not that Jungkook wanted to fuck Alex. Just objectively. In a direct competition of skills, he’d do better. Except for the wild card Hoseok would have, the finger on the scales that would tip the balance in his favor: Alex liked Hoseok, she wanted him, in a way she had never considered Jungkook. Jungkook knew that the more you wanted someone, the better the sex with them was, even if sex in general was great. So no matter how much better he was at fucking, Hoseok would win a competition judged by Alex because she wanted Hosoek to win. She chose him that way.
“Dude you look pissed,” Nate laughed, throwing a box at him. Jungkook caught it, but in doing so dropped several phone boxes.
“Oops.”
“What are you thinking? Revenge fuck?”
“What does that mean?” Jungkook asked, face now shifting from whatever ‘pissed’ expression Nate thought he had seen to one of skepticism. “I’m not going to fuck her– she has a boyfriend–”
“Nah, dude, this is your roommate, you didn’t want to fuck her before anyway, right? I mean fuck someone else and give her the details and see how she likes it! Probably she’ll get all ‘ew gross don’t tell me that,’” Nate explained, mimicking a high-pitched girl's voice in a way that seemed to prove he had not been laid anytime recently.
Jungkook’s head tilted, trying to make sense of this. He didn’t have to fuck someone new to have gross sex details to share. He didn’t think that was the problem. And again, it wasn’t like Alex didn’t already know he was a fuckboy. It’s just that his stories were funny, hers were–
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she thought because he fucked around, he wanted to hear about his best friend getting railed by her lightweight boyfriend on their hoity-toity trip up to Lakeville. Dude apparently couldn’t even hold his alcohol so his stamina couldn’t be that good. He suspected Alex was just an easy cummer since she’d gone unlaid for so long–
Ok no. NO no no no that was the whole point was that he did not want to start thinking about Alex in any sex-related sense. No! He’d drawn a hard line there basically a decade ago and there was no need or reason to muddy those waters now just because in quick succession she had revealed she wasn’t actually asexual, she now had a boyfriend, and for some inexplicable reason Alex had let him see her in lingerie. Ok, sure, for ‘feedback’ to make sure Hoseok wouldn’t laugh at her.
Obviously the fucker hadn’t laughed at her. Hope you enjoyed it, asshole! That’s my best friend whose weekend you almost ruined getting too drunk! Alex hadn’t confirmed the lingerie was a hit but Jungokok hadn’t expected it to be anything but. It had looked good on her.
“This is why I won’t live with a girl unless I’m married to her,” Nate continued, speaking mostly to himself because Jungkook was barely listening. “It doesn’t work.”
“It works for us,” Jungkook argued.
“Does it? She’s totally forgotten you’re a dude, dude.”
“Yeah but that’s ok. I mean, I’m not a fuckable dude to her–”
“Do you hear yourself? You’re Jungkook Jeon! You’re a fuckable dude to any lady unless she’s your sister, right?”
“Alex is basically like my sister.”
“Then why is she telling you all this gross shit?” Nate pointed out. “That’s like some weird sexual incest relationship or something. That’s some porn shit.” Nate pitched his voice higher again, “‘Hi, stepbrother, can you help me, my thong got stuck in my asscrack. Oh, your hands are all soapy? Maybe you can use your teeth–’”
“Jesus Christ, man,” Jungkook laughed. “Get laid or something.”
“Yeah but you aren’t pissed if I tell you about it, right? So yeah, something’s not right between you and Alex. You gotta stand up for yourself. Remind her you’re a man and you have zero interest in hearing about another man’s game.”
Jungkook realized what Nate was saying did not actually make much sense. He froze again, trying to untangle it. Fine, maybe he was annoyed listening to Alex talk about Hoseok but it was because it was different than talking about generic hook ups. He didn’t mind her teasing him about fucking around, but it was different to have your best friend give you the details of their sex-fueled weekend away with their boyfriend, who they would probably now be fucking down the hall from you on the weekly. Or she’d go over there. She had no problem with his sexcapades but yeah! Maybe he did a little bit just because he also had to look at the guy! He didn’t want to think about another guy cumming on her tits or whatever trash they’d try next! Whatever, maybe Alex didn’t think of him as anything but her brother, but he didn’t want to think these things about his sister!
Nate was pretty useless as an employee and not much good as a friend but something about talking to him did give Jungkook the boost he needed. If Alex started telling him things he didn’t want to know, he'd just tell her to cut it out. He’d remind her she was like a sister to him. He didn’t want to think about her having sex anymore than she had already forced him to!
“Bananas– not the organic ones though,” Jungkook said, looking up from their hastily scratched shopping list.
“Duh.” She actually rolled her eyes at the suggestion that she wouldn’t know what kind of bananas he wanted.
Jungkook started to walk over to the banana display, leaving Alex to push the cart. Instead she hopped up onto the low bar and gripped the handle, whining after him,
“Koooo, push me.”
“You were horizontal most of the weekend, push your damn self,” he argued, back towards her. He hated making the joke about a thing he didn’t want to talk about, but at least sex jokes came natural. He didn’t feel like doing that stupid thing they did sometimes where she rode on the cart and he pushed it, arms around her. Sometimes she’d lift her arms and quote ‘Titanic.’ One time Jimin had seen them do it and insisted there was something wrong with them, a gas leak in their apartment or something.
But he didn’t feel like doing it right now, he just wanted to get the grocery shopping trip done and get home. He’d been on his feet all day and he was tired and usually they went grocery shopping on Sundays so he’d been living off of stale cereal in yogurt and instant rice and kimchi for three days because she’d been gone all weekend. Horizontal.
“Not just horizontal!” she said brightly, completely missing his tone. She gave the cart a shove and rode it over, bashing into the back of his ankles.
“Yeah, ok.”
“Why are you being sulky?”
“Because I’m hungry!”
“Well it’s not my fault you couldn’t feed yourself while I was away. You could have gone grocery shopping on your own,” she pointed out.
“I was busy.”
“Doing what?” she taunted. “Mom said you went to dinner at home. And that you didn’t give away any of my secrets so thanks.”
“They grilled me. You owe me.”
“Eh, you already owed me. You’ve earned my trust back.”
“That’s why you’re telling me every detail now, huh?”
“Yeah I’m not actually worried you’re going to go tell my mom he made me cum–”
“I know how many times,” he interrupted.
Alex’s response was to laugh, “Damn, you’re hangry! OK ok fine, let’s plow through the list so we can get home and feed you. Hehe, plowed like–”
“Alex,” he gave a deep, annoyed sigh to carry her name through the produce section.
She just giggled, “It’s kind of fun pissing you off, actually. I’m barely even telling you anything but you’re getting all pissy because someone beside you is talking about sex–”
“We’re in a grocery store,” he glared, gesturing at the other people in this public space.
“Yeah yeah I know, ok. I’ll dial it back. How was work?”
The question bored him but he answered it and returned the question. Her work bored him too. Everything bored him!
“Hey we’re going to the arcade tomorrow, right?” He suddenly thought of it. Her being gone Monday had totally thrown his weekly schedule off and he realized now tomorrow was Thursday arcade night and she might be working.
She gave him an incredulous look, “Of course we’re going. I mean, unless you’re bailing on me. I have it blocked out in my work schedule.”
“Oh, yeah. Ok. I’m feeling like we need to work harder to get the Slushie machine and stuff. I don’t think the marketing they’ve been doing is enough,” he said, suddenly much more animated by relief. “It feels like there’s a timer counting down on the place, right? I’m worried.”
“You know we could just buy a Slushie machine–”
“Ok moneybags,” he scoffed.
“Let’s see how much they are–” He shoved her hands with her phone down and reached over her to grab a bunch of bananas.
“I don’t care how much they actually are. It’s the principle of the matter. You don’t care about it anymore? I thought–”
“I care, I care,” she assured him.
He frowned, “Or does a Slushie machine not fit the style you want to impress–”
“What is up with you?” she asked. “You’re being all crabby and taking it out on me. What did I do?”
“I’m not–”
“I care about the Slushie machine,” she said. “I’m sorry you needed me here to grocery shop on Sunday and I wasn’t. I’m sorry I blew off the arcade weeks ago but I won’t do it again. Is there something else going on? Are you fighting with a girl? Did instagram suspend your account or something?”
“I have more going on in my life than instagram and fucking girls,” he grumbled. The bananas he had grabbed weren’t big enough so he grabbed a second bunch. They went through a lot of bananas.
“Ok, so tell me about it. What did I miss– you know what? Let’s go to the Starbucks and get something to snack on. Coffee or something. You want anything?”
“You don’t get a discount here,” he reminded.
“I know but this is an emergency. My treat.”
It was suspicious. It made him very suspicious but not so suspicious he wouldn’t accept a treat. So they bought a cookie to share and each got an iced caramel macchiato and fuck the sugar. Jungkook had to admit it did make things feel a little better as they returned to their shopping, side by side, sipping their little drinks. Just two roommates getting their weekly errands done with a nice pick-me-up.
“Ok,” she said. “Now back to what you were saying. Other stuff going on that’s bothering you right now.”
“Huh?”
“You said you have more going on than girls and instagram. News to me so spill, what’s the new thing,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him, as she slurped her fucking straw into her mouth.
“Uh…”
“Hello? Earth to Kookoo brain?” When she pulled her drink away to speak, a drop of milk lingered on her lip and he had the sudden and overwhelming urge to just lean down and– ok, it was weird, but it was just the crazy impulse that flashed through him to lean down and lick it off her lip and– well, her mouth would be cold and sweet and milky right now, because of the drink and– he didn’t have a thing for milk or anything, just that her mouth would taste like creamy caramel right now–
“Oh my god, are you sick or something?”
“Sick,” he repeated, meaning his brain that would do that to him while he was talking to Alex of all people!
Ok brain, he realized now. I went too long without getting my balls drained. I get it. He hadn’t even jacked off in the last week! He was cranky and backed up. Alex was right about her assumption that he hadn’t gotten laid and that was probably why he was so sensitive about her weekend with Hoseok. It wasn’t like he actually resented her getting fu– sex. She could have been having sex all this time! He didn’t mind! He just thought she didn’t want it!
But also his brain needed to quit it with the phrase “Alex getting fucked” because it was just too much in the wrong direction. He thought Alex was probably a love-making type of girl, not a getting railed one. They had sex but he’d doubted they’d fucked. The reality of all the excitement over Hoseok, he decided, was that it had probably been pretty tame, mediocre sex, but she had such a low bar for what she should be asking for. He’d nudge her in the right direction to make sure her needs were actually getting met.
Someday.
Definitely not right now.
Her hands were on his face, invading his bubble to check for a fever.
“I’m fine,” he complained and batted her away, “Leave me alone, you’ll give me zits.”
“My hands are clean.”
“You’ve just been banana-handling!”
“Uh I have definitely washed my hands since– oh, you meant…” She trailed off with a loud laugh and bounced away to the next thing on their list: oranges. Obviously she knew the joke she’d made. Her usual brash humor made him grumble, but he quieted it behind a sip of the iced drink she’d bought for him.
When she turned around, she was holding two naval oranges there, but before Jungkook could think of what joke would sound normal and not weird because now he’d seen her nipples and new what her tits looked like in only a flimsy lavender top, she sighed,
“Remember that time May and her friends stuffed these things in their bathing suits and made fun of me?”
“Uh… no,” he lied.
“I still think about that sometimes,” she admitted. “That sucked. I was so jealous of her little AAs.”
“You shouldn’t be. They’re um, nice. You know. At any size.”
“You think mine are nice?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.
“Uh… I, um, objectively speaking–”
“Oh my god, I have a boyfriend,” she laughed. Then immediately sighed and shook her head, “Sorry, I know I’m being so fucking annoying about it right now.”
YEAH! He wanted to yell it but she kept going.
“I guess I just still can’t believe it and I figure I can talk to you about anything. Rebekah and Minxi are both kind of shy about sex stuff… and I’m not on In’am or Sabina’s hot-girl level so… besides I’ve listened to all your sexcapades for years, so I figure you owe me,” she laughed and cradled the oranges against her chest as she tried to tear off a produce bag with one hand. She’d done the whole thing backwards like an idiot.
But Jungkook couldn’t do and think at the same time, and this conversation had him so flustered because now he was remembering her in that lavender thing, he reached for the oranges instead of ripping off the bag which is what he’d meant to do. He grabbed both oranges but a big squish of her tit as well.
“Jungkook!” she gasped. “Right in front of the salad?!”
“Fuck, sorry, I– you can’t– just get the bag before you grab the–”
“Before I grab the what?” she laughed, clearly amused by the whole thing. Jungkook was mortified. He’d never felt mortified in front of Alex but he did right now –well, not since he was a teenager and realized she noticed the random boners he kept popping as puberty wreaked havoc on his system. Or that time he’d been practicing with condoms in high school and had one stuck to his sock and she’d noticed it when she came over. Or that time her car had turned on and grabbed the bluetooth connection to his phone and she’d seen the name of the porn he was in the middle of jacking off to. She’d texted him a picture and six laughing emojis. Ruined his orgasm.
“Oranges, you sick fuck,” he retorted. It came out harsher than he intended it.
But Alex crumpled against the stack of oranges, she burst into such whole-body laughter.
“Oh my god you’re such an asshole,” she howled. “What is wrong with you? Is this really what you’re like if you go a week without–”
“Ma’am, this is a family establishment,” he interrupted, to cut her off because there were children walking nearby but also because he saw a lifeline through to his normal self and reached for it. Of course! He could make outrageous jokes with her and it was fine! Why was he being so weird and cranky?! And how did she know it had been a week for him?!
“It’s so funny when you say shitty stuff with that baby face,” she giggled, wiping a tear from her watery eyes. She reached forward and held the bag open for him to chuck the oranges into. He couldn’t have explained why, but something about the intimacy of manhandling giant oranges into a crinkly bag she held was too much. They locked eyes over the bag of oranges and both started laughing again.
This felt better. Jungkook made sure to bump her around as he picked the best broccoli heads, and she hip-checked him out of the way to reach the ranch dressing, and then they bickered over whether to get normal Chef Boyardee or the healthy one without high fructose corn syrup in it.
“But the healthy one is gross,” she insisted. “You know what boobs are made of? High fructose corn syrup.”
“Yeah, so we don’t need it,” Jungkook argued.
Alex laughed and waved the can at him, “What’s this ‘we’?”
“We got plenty of boobs in the house.”
“Whose? Yours?”
“Mine are nice too! I mean I’m not parading around in a little gauzy purple thing but–”
“Maybe you should open your mind to it,” she said. “You could get a matching one! I got it at that store I made you go with me, the one at the mall–”
“Wait you bought that with me?”
“Yeah. Super sneaky so you wouldn’t see. Like faster than that black bra you helped me steal when we were–”
“Yeah I already know what you’re talking about, it’s not like we steal from Victoria's Secret every couple of months,” he assured her. “Literally the only time in my life I have stolen lingerie.”
“Now you just buy it, huh, Mr. Moneybags?”
“Who the fuck am I buying lingerie for?” he scoffed.
“I don’t know… anyway. Yeah, obviously I wasn’t going to tell you I was buying lingerie.”
“Yeah, obviously,” he scoffed. “You waited until we were home to show it to me. On your body.”
“All right all right, sorry if that was weird.”
He was at a decision point, he realized. The responses he could give fanned out before him like a dialogue tree in a video game. He could tease. He could deny. He could establish a boundary and make sure it never happened again.
He shrugged, “Nah, it wasn’t weird, it’s just fun to tease you about it. You were so nervous about something stupid!”
“My body is stupid, huh?!”
“No, that was my point. How you look in that kind of thing is stupid to worry about.”
“You sound like my mom. ‘You are beautiful Alex and any boy will know that!’ As if I need reassurance from boys to feel good about myself.”
“Yeah just me.”
“Just you and the boy I’m dating,” she agreed as she set things on the belt for him to ring up at the self check out. He opened a couple bags first so she’d be able to squeeze past him and bag while he paid. They’d split the total later.
Jungkook shrugged, “Eh don’t worry too much about him. Boyfriends are replaceable; I am not. Wait, did you show your mom the lingerie–”
“No, of course not! Oh my god, I have boundaries! Just not with you!”
“Ok, good,” he laughed. “Here shrimpie, put the ramen in that last bag so you can carry it. I thought we’d start putting it in the low cabinet so you can reach it with your little possum hands in the middle of the night.”
“You’re such a turd,” she huffed and punched him in the ass. Hard.
“Damnit, Namjoon!”
“Ahhhhh I just tried to help,” he whined. Alex sighed and grabbed chopsticks and began picking out the vanilla beans he had dumped from a jar he apparently thought was dehydrated garlic. Vanilla beans looked nothing like garlic.
“Even if that was garlic, why would you just blindly dump it into the pan?! Besides, we’re using fresh garlic,” Alex scolded.
Beside her Taehyung shook his head, “Don’t bother, Alex. He went from mom to wife, the dude never learned common cooking sense.”
“You guys, don’t be shit. I’m trying to learn.”
“Step one, always stop and think about what you’re doing,” Jimin said, only to squirm and laugh at Namjoon’s look of rage at being lectured by Jimin –Jimin who tended to be on rice maker duty. It was rich coming from Taehyung honestly too, who used to be helpless. But he’d literally taken crash cooking courses in the last three years to learn how to cook to impress the ladies, and it had worked! He’d caught Sabina with those cooking skills. Gotta respect the hustle!
Jungkook reached right over Alex’s head to pull another bowl out of the cabinet above her. It pressed her into the counter, a drawer knob digging right into her ribs.
“Careful, hot stuff here,” she pointed out to him.
“I know, I’m just getting a bowl.”
“I meant the dish.”
“Uh huh.”
“The food dish, not the me dish.”
He gave her a tight-lipped look, bowl now safely in his hands, and assured her, “Yeah. I got it.”
Jungkook did this a lot lately, just would suddenly get all sulky. She hadn’t been able to tease out whether something was up at work or he was just still in his dry spell or what. She’d checked his snap and insta to make sure no girls were bullying him but if they were, it wasn’t on his page. In the past it had never taken her long to crack him; just the right poke and he’d spill everything, sometimes flopped across her lap like a worn out puppy demanding comfort and attention.
Fortunately Jimin also noticed and teased, “Uh oh, baby’s in a bad mood?”
“I’m not your baby,” Jungkook frowned.
“Yeah, we know, you’re mine and you’re hungry and it’s making you cranky,” Alex joked. “Sorry guys, I forgot to feed the baby his afternoon snack before we came here… I know I’m responsible for him and I failed in my sacred duties… here, muffin, eat this.”
“Muffin…” he grumbled, but when she held a piece of chicken to his mouth, he deigned to eat it. His glare gave her the answer as he nodded, “Yeah, it’s good.”
“There, is that better? You just need food. You’ve barely touched your horny DMs. I didn’t see any thirst traps on snap yet tonight!”
“You’re such a something-something,” he laughed, and pretended like he was going to chop her in the stomach, but instead just chased after the piece of chicken she’d been going to feed herself with his mouth like a fish. It felt sort of like staging for a movie; the playful proximity would have been an easy set up to just dart forward and kiss.
If it was Hoseok! Obviously! She wasn’t kissing anyone else! It was just a funny situation, and the premise distracted her long enough he was able to take the chicken after all and give her a smug grin about it.
“The marinade came out good?” Namjoon asked him. Alex had been the one to make it and she awaited Jungkook’s review.
“Yeah, it’s good. We should serve it with the green beans though so there’s some crunch, the chicken isn’t crispy on its own.”
“Yeah, can you saute those? I think Minxi already trimmed them.”
“Yep, right here! My work is done,” she beamed, and handed over the bowl and simply walked away.
Alex set the next batch of dumplings to steam and left the boys to keep an eye on it and wandered off after Minxi. Hobi wouldn’t be here until later; he was staying longer at work to cover for a barista who’d had a last minute family emergency. Hobi always covered; it was sweet and a reminder how much he loved his career, even if it bummed Alex out sometimes that it often meant moved dates or plans. He wasn’t a brain surgeon or something! But she also respected his work ethic.
On the bright side, they’d been dating long enough now that he felt comfortable casually adjusting their plans. It’s not like he had missed anything important! Not that there had been anything important to miss yet but still.
The kitchen was loud anyway and she wanted to just hang out; it’s why she and Jungkook had come early to this dinner party, which was Namjoon’s attempts to take control of the way everyone kept showing up at his house and turn the affairs into less drinking and something more sophisticated. He’d begged them to cook. He wanted to learn.
“Hey are the rumors true Namjoon already started seeing someone?” she whispered to Sabina and In’am.
“What do you mean already?” Sabina answered. “His divorce is finalized! There’s not some magic time he needs to wait.”
“No, I know! I just meant… because he just started looking,” Alex quickly covered her tracks. She thought there was an amount of time you needed to wait before people would whisper about you behind your back…
Exactly like this.
“I think it’s great,” Alex insisted. “I just meant i thought he’d fuck around more before he wanted to bring someone home to us.”
“Some people aren’t fuck-arounds,” Rebeka shrugged. “Some of us are lifers.”
“Yeah totally.” Alex paused, thoughtful, then frowned, “I guess I’m a lifer? Are those my only options?”
“What other options do you want?” Minxi prodded.
“I don’t know,” Alex said quickly, because she didn’t understand how they had gotten here or what was even being talked about. She guessed she was a lifer –she didn’t date around, and certainly didn’t fuck around. But at the same time, it wasn’t like she was already thinking of marrying Hoseok. Well, maybe she’d daydreamed about that earlier, before they started dating. Shit, that didn’t sound right! All her internal thoughts meant was that once Hoseok became a very real guy she was dating, those kinds of fantasies felt a little embarrassing because it felt like she was getting ahead of herself. They’d had a great time in Lakeville and had a couple of dates out or hung out at his place many times since then, they’d had more great sex, things were going great! If they wound up married… well, that would be great! But she wasn’t already really thinking of marriage! She’d basically be a child bride!
“Are you… hyperventilating?” In’am asked, leaning in closer and pressing her hand familiarly to Alex’s jaw.
“I’m just not quite ready to get married yet. I don’t know how you’re doing it. I mean I know you’re older than me but…”
In’am shared a laugh with Sabina, which Minxi and Rebekah awkwardly parroted as well, before assuring her, “That might be a little fast. Do you feel like your relationship is going too fast?”
“No! No, I just am sweating from these questions. Why are we talking about this again? I thought we were going to gossip about Namjoon’s romantic life?”
“Unfortunately I don’t think any of us know anything,” Rebekah sighed and let her chin fall onto her hand. “Where do people keep meeting people? I feel like I have zero prospects unless I want to– no, don’t you say it,” she warned Minxi, holding a finger up.
“Now she has to say.”
“You showed me that dating app you were on…”
Alex was relieved when attention turned that way. She felt like she’d made some mistake without even understanding it. Looking around the circle, she wondered if it meant she was spending too much time with dudes lately. Most of her freetime was with Hoseok and whatever remained was kind of just at home with Jungkook. Maybe she needed to carve out time for more than just texting and the occasional dinner with these girls…
Her phone chirped in her pocket and she yanked it out to see a message from Hoseok saying he was swinging by his place to shower before he came over –understandable since the mocha and espresso tended to seep into your hair and skin while you worked. Her friends were used to her smelling like coffee and chocolate but Hoseok was very particular about how he smelled and looked. No shiny face, no powder behind the ears, and definitely no smelling like work.
There were also notifications for etsy, Tumblr, ebay, Twitter, and Snapchat. She dismissed most of them but opened Snap because the notif mentioned Jungkook was someone who’d shared something. What could he possibly be snapping while he cooked just in the other room?
The selfie had Jungkook looking dramatically to the side, showing Jimin, Taehyung, and Namjoon in the background with the caption: me and bros cooking dinner for some lucky bitches
A next photo showed Jungkook twisting his shirt into his fist to more clearly show the outline of his shoulder and chest muscles and a little bit of skin above his shorts, a few hairs of the treasure trail he’d once admitted to her he wished was more manly and thicker. Taehyung had noticed the photo being taken; he was looking over his shoulder at Jungkook, grinning, devilishly handsome, a casual upstage to Jungkook’s try-hard fuckboy antics. And yet Alex’s attention lingered on her dumb friend. Why was he posting suddenly? Because she’d teased him about horny DMs?
Alex leaned in close to Rebekah and pouted her lips and threw up a peace sign for a photo as Rebekah quickly played along without knowing what for. What a good sport. Alex didn’t often post anything to Snapchat but added it now with the caption: it’s us. We bitches.
“Hey,” Rebekah complained, seeing it.
“You don’t want to be JK’s bitch?”
“Obviously not,” Rebekah scoffed but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Alex obviously didn’t comment. She had hoped Rebekah’s little crush on Jungkook would fade in time as she saw more of his fuckboy antics, but either Rebekah was intrigued by his behavior –so very different than any guy she’d ever dated– or she’d been able to see the charming, likable greasy Shrek behind the fuckboy antics.
Shrek. Yeah. He was definitely a Shrek.
At the same time her photo posted, Jungkook posted another, holding a spoon of sauce towards the phone camera, eyebrow cocked, tongue pressed to form a bulge in the side of his mouth: want to taste?
Now she laughed and leaned close to show Rebekah, who was whining wanting to know what was going on.
“It’s just a mouthful of sauce,” Alex snickered.
“Um… I think he means cum.”
Alex didn’t know what was funnier, hearing Rebekah say ‘cum’ or Rebekah thinking Alex didn’t get the joke.
“Yeah but just eating a mouthful of that sauce would be gross, so he’s making it seem like a mouthful of his cum would also be gross–”
“Wouldn’t it be?” Minxi asked. “Isn’t a mouthful of anyone’s pretty gross? I realize I’m outing myself here but–”
In’am shrugged, “You get used to it. If you swallow quickly you don’t have to deal with the mouthful part.”
“Or just let it dribble down your chin if you don’t like the taste or texture in your mouth,” Sabina suggested, dragging a finger down her chin. “They like that.”
“All of them?” Rebekah clarified.
“All of them,” Sabina nodded.
Alex made a mental note. She had not given Hoseok a blowjob yet, worried about messing up their enjoyable sex by showing too much of her inexperience too quickly. Hoseok hadn’t seemed bothered at all when she’d admitted she didn’t have vast experience. While he didn’t exactly disclose his own –maybe for the best– he was patient and vocal when she did something he liked. Obviously it was time to step it up soon though, right? He’d gone down on her. She didn’t want him to start thinking she was never going to return the favor, and it would probably take her some time to get good at it!
Obviously she had lied to Jungkook about it when he’d started to tease that she let Hoseok do all the work. And now she was paranoid about it! Damnit, she needed to blow her boyfriend and soon so he wouldn’t be thinking the same thing.
“What are you guys talking about?” Jungkook asked, suddenly leaning down on his forearms on the couch between Alex and Rebekah.
“Your gross cum,” Alex smiled at him.
“It’s definitely not gross.”
“It is though.”
“I don’t think you know anything about it,” he retorted.
“I know what cum is like,” she cried defensively, hitting his arm to try and knock him off the couch.
“Not mine.”
“It’s not special,” she returned.
“This is a lot,” Minxi murmured. “They’re weird, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they’re weird,” In’am assured her. “Nothing new here.”
“The results of the science experiment when a boy and a girl live together platonically for too long…”
“Hey,” Jungkook said, turning his glare to Minxi. “We’re golden.”
“Yeah? You’ve adapted to your new dad?”
“Hobi and I get along fine,” Jungkook said and Alex wondered if it sounded like a lie to anyone else. They still had not spent any real time together since that failed arcade date except for a couple awkward evenings watching tv at the apartment that Jungkook had mostly left during the middle of anyway. Booty calls or whatever.
It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, but she got the distinct feeling from things he said and did that Jungkook still expected Hoseok to be uppity or patronizing or something, just because he was older and had a corporate job, even though he’d given up that corporate job! She thought he was kind of threatened by Hoseok. She understood Jungkook masked shyness and insecurity behind the fuckboy antics but she didn’t see what that had to do with Hoseok! Hobi was definitely not doing anything to try to make Jungkook feel bad about himself.
Hoseok happened to walk through the door right that second and Jungkook shouted, “Speak of the devil! Hey man, glad you could make it!” He turned and went right up to Hobi and threw his arms around her bemused, slightly stunned boyfriend. Of course Hoseok returned the hug, even wrapped his arms tighter around Jungkook and squeezed, as if this was a perfectly normal greeting.
“J-kaaay,” he cheered. “How’s it going, man? Hey, did you find out about that commission competition yet?”
Jungkook’s face lit up, “Oh, Alex told you about that? Yeah, dude, I fucking won!”
“Hey hey, winner J-kaaay,” Hoseok grinned and they high-fived.
Alex sighed and covered her face and slumped down on the couch as all four girls laughed at what they were seeing. It wasn’t that it was fake; obviously Jungkook and Hoseok were both good people and knew they needed to get along for her sake. It just felt like a performance though.
“Yeah, JK is getting along great with his new dad,” she grumbled.
Trying here meant that Jungkook was talking Hoseok’s ear off and he hadn’t even gotten to say hello to Alex yet. It was cute he was so excited about winning after being second each time for like two years now, but couldn’t he wait five minutes?
“Hey, he’s my boyfriend, let me say hi,” she pouted in their direction. Hoseok was still smiling and nodding at what Jungkook said, but came closer to bend down over the back of the couch and kiss her on the cheek. Just the right level of PDA she felt comfortable with in front of her friends.
“--anyway, it’s a nice little payout,” Jungkook said, unbothered. “Maybe I’ll take someone special up to Lakeville now, huh? You can give me some pointers.”
“I think we like different things,” Hoseok told him. Which was kind of a weird response, Alex thought. Jungkook must have thought so too because he immediately stopped talking and tilted his head, eyebrows pinched.
“Do we?”
“He means he gets seasick on the water,” Alex suggested, not sure if that was actually what Hoseok had meant. But it must have been! “But you love the water.”
“Oh, yeah, I do.”
“Hey JK,” Namjoon called. “Something’s not looking right… can you come look?”
“Oh, yeah– hey, why don’t you come too, Hobi? We could use another guy in there who knows what he’s doing.”
“Oh I don’t actually know anything about cooking,” Hoseok admitted, cheeks appling up like when he was bashful about something.
“Oh, I thought Alex was always saying the food at your place–”
“My roommate is great.”
“Yeah, Seokjin is amazing, we should bring him over next time, actually!” Alex agreed.
Jungkook nodded, “Yeah yeah. Ok well, we could use your help in the kitchen.” He shrugged and walked off, but the request was clear.
Hoseok gave Alex a warm smile, an obvious I’m doing this for you message embedded, and waved, “Ladies, nice to see you. I will talk more after I have assisted the men.”
“Good luck.”
“Watch out for Namjoon or Taehyung with knives, for different reasons!”
“Wait, what?”
But he went anyway, and Alex realized she’d been tense for no reason. Hoseok was going to have no problem fitting in here; he already did! He would just be the new guy for a little longer but if Namjoon had some new friend he was going to bring by, Hoseok would then be just another one of the group. That made her really happy to think of. She thought Hoseok’s friends were great, but they did spend more time with them than with her own, and she’d like to be able to go back and forth, or even mingle them!
Mingling was nice. Alex liked not having to choose. She loved that when they all sat down at tables or on the couch to finally eat the food, Hoseok was right there in the middle of conversations. She liked that he had a good memory and would ask people about things they’d mentioned before. He was just so social compared to her. She wasn’t as good at that kind of thing, she just kind of hung back until she found her place, but Hoseok knew how to mold a group. He had such an easy time finding things to talk about with everyone. He was just really so great! He didn’t even fuss when Taehyung and Jungkook teased him during cleanup for suggesting they boil the forks to get the tines really clean.
“It can be hard to wash in between,” he explained.
Namjoon waved his hand, “Nah, it’s good, I have a dishwasher.”
“Ah, ok, but handwashed is cleaner… ok, if you say so!” Hoseok laughed and stepped aside as In’am, Sabina, and Rebekah loaded things up.
“Hobi and Jin keep their place very clean,” Alex explained. “He’s the pro at knowing how to clean anything.”
“So how exactly does that work with you?” Jimin teased.
“I’m not dirty!”
“No comment,” Hoseok grinned, then seemed to realize he had made a different joke than he meant to as Jungkook choked on his saliva and leaned heavily against the counter like he’d been shot and didn’t know whether to cry or puke. “No no I was just trying to make a joke about– nevermind. Nevermind!”
“Adorable,” Sabina snickered. “You two are so cute.”
“He’s rubbing off on you. I thought your room looked a lot cleaner than it used to–”
“No one better be rubbing off on anyone in my house,” Namjoon said to a chorus of boo’s and shoves. Alex grimaced but held back the need to apologize to Hoseok for her crude friends. That’s how they were. She thought they were funny! He’d never seemed too bothered by it anyway.
Suddenly Jungkook reached forward and wrapped his arms around Hoseok, agreeing, “Yeah, man, you gotta be good with Alex, none of that kind of stuff.”
“Hey, you don’t know what I’m into!” Alex jokingly defended. But it was lost, because now Hoseok and Jungkook were both laughing about… Jungkook being her brother and he needed to defend her? They were sort of play-wrestling? Just right in the middle of the kitchen. It was so… weird. She felt like she’d missed something important.
Alex shared a grimace with Minxi and Taehyung. Gross. Had she really understood that right?
“Ok, whatever you weirdos, let’s go do… something else,” she said, trying to wedge her way between them. It was hard to break them up at first and then they were both laughing from the hug-tussle. “You’re both really fucking weird right now.”
“No no,” Hoseok insisted. “Am I flushed? I only had one glass of wine –I’m a lightweight,” he confessed to her friends.
“I’m not,” Jungkook announced proudly.
“Yeah but you’re on your fourth beer or something,” Taehyung pointed out, handing him the bottle.
“Third. I’ve gotta be up early for the gym before work…” Jungkook patted his belly, whether to check the beer volume or fondle his own abs.
“Why are you having three beers at a dinner party?” she scolded.
“Uh, to celebrate my commission win? The guys get it,” he told her, waving his hand to dismiss her and turning to clink his beer bottle with Jimin’s. Alex did not like that dismissal.
“Yeah, right, not like I made you some brownies to celebrate or anything,” she huffed, because she had. Pot brownies. They didn’t do that kind of thing often but it was celebration and they were supposed to enjoy those together soon but if he was going to be weird suddenly–
“Hey baby, I know, don’t pout at me about it. We said tomorrow!”
Hoseok suddenly choked on his water beside her. She turned and pounded on his back until he’d stopped coughing.
“You ok?” she asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great,” Hoseok nodded. “I’ll get some more water I think– were we going to watch a comedy show or something–”
“I’ll get the water,” Alex told him, Jungkook forgotten as she took his glass. “Go get us seats before the other couples take all the good ones.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll clear off the love seat for the three of us,” Jungkook said, backhanding Hoseok in the stomach and taking off.
Within seconds they were alone in the kitchen, and Hoseok leaned close and asked, “Hey uh… does he always call you ‘baby’?”
“Huh?” The retort came out obnoxious sounding even to her own ears.
“He just called you baby and used this… voice…”
“Oh.” Alex rolled her eyes hard. “Yeah, he does that to mock me, goes into his little fuckboy lines. Don’t worry about that, it’s just him being stupid.”
“Ah, ok.”
“You ok snuggling with me while we watch this? Sometimes I laugh too loud… that really witchy one…”
“Remember who you’re dating, baby,” he assured her, his smile taking up his face again as he leaned down to kiss her. “I like that laugh!”
“Oh I remember who I’m dating. I have a midday shift tomorrow…”
“Oh? How convenient… I don’t work until late too…”
“Guys!’
“Guys you’re going to miss it!”
“They’re kissing, leave them alone.”
Jungkook’s voice was clear, “Hey assholes, get your booties in here or I’m farting on all your seats!”
“Does he really get laid all the time?” Hoseok asked.
“Bitches be dumb,” Alex snickered, then quickly clarified, “I don’t mean that seriously, obviously their poor taste is not necessarily a reflection on their intelligence or their worth as people.”
Hoseok laughed all the way to the couch with her, arm around her waist. Jungkook had indeed saved them the two spaces to wedge in with him on the loveseat, though Alex had to shove his legs out of the way. It was a cozy fit for three people, to say the least.
“This only works because you’re the size of a peanut,” he told her.
“Curves of one too,” Hoseok added.
“I will murder you both–”
“Hey-o!” Jungkook laughed and held his hand up for Hoseok to high-five. After a brief hesitation, he did. Jimin started to laugh into In’am’s shoulder and she curled him against her and patted his back,
“There there, babe, the comedy special hasn’t even started yet.”
The comedy special was funny. Alex laughed. Not always sincerely, because she was literally wedged in between two boisterous loud laughing guys who kept jostling each other around her. But she enjoyed it! She was just also glad when it was over and she could squeeze out like toothpaste as anyone who’d stayed for the whole thing gathered their stuff to head out. Namjoon was barely awake in the chair, which was kind of endearing. Sleepy grandpa.
“I’ll follow you home?” Alex asked, nudging Hoseok playfully in the chest. “You ok to drive?”
“Ah, I was optimistic, a friend actually dropped me here, I don’t have my car…” Hoseok admitted, not looking sorry about it.
“Wait, I need a ride home,” Jungkook said, grabbing her arm. “I came with you.”
“Ok you can take my– no, you can’t drive,” she sighed. He nodded, then shook his head. Not trashed or anything, but definitely not going to be driving himself home. Also why should she pay for a cab just so he could borrow her car? That was a dumb suggestion.
“Ok… guess we’re dropping JK at my place first.”
“Would you rather stay at your place?” Hoseok asked.
“Oh. no, we don’t have to– I know you aren’t as comfortable at my place…” They said their goodbyes and headed out, Jungkook trailing silently behind.
“I don’t mind.”
“You’ve never spent the night at my place. Jungkook snores.”
“Close enough to hear?!”
“It was a joke…”
“Ah…”
“Slumber party?” Jungkook asked, suddenly slinging his arms around their shoulders. Or trying to. The height difference left him lop-sided and they all stumbled down the concrete steps to Alex’s car on the curb.
“Yes, but not one you’re invited to, babe,” she teased, poking him hard in the ribs.
“Really? Lame. I’ve got a full poker chip set and a sweet deck of cards, we could play for jellybeans– me and Alex have matching kigurumi.”
She’d wanted to make a joke about how she and Hoseok would be fucking soon but she chickened out and just scolded, “Close your mouth and get into the backseat.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“No not fuck yeah,” she laughed. “God, you are sick! You’re back there alone.”
“Uh huh, ok–”
“Don’t you have a girl to call if you’re lonely?”
“Nah, I think your snap about being the bitch I was cooking for scared them all off tonight,” he lamented as he flopped down into it, shoving her jackets and a beachball and an overflowing bag out of the way. She didn’t have backseat passengers often.
“Didn’t I just send that to you?!”
“Nah, and I added it to mine.”
“Why?!”
“Dunno, man,” Jungkook said and stretched and yawned. “Take me home!”
Alex shook her head but Hoseok was smiling and had his phone out, already sorting through for some music to listen to. That seemed like a great idea. If Jungkook kept rambling, they’d just turn the volume up.
He didn’t, and she actually thought he fell asleep back there, but when she’d glance through the rearview mirror, he was just staring out the window, mouthing along to the lyrics, streetlights flickering across his face.
**
Jungkook thought it would be less annoying to have Hoseok spend the night at their place rather than have Alex off doing who knew what at his. But it wasn’t less annoying to know they were in her bedroom fucking. He hated that he knew that, even though he couldn’t hear anything from his bedroom.
It was the alcohol, he knew that. He’d had four beers in a couple hours and while he had a high tolerance, he didn’t know why he’d done that. It just made sense at the time.
And now Hoseok was fucking her and tomorrow Jungkook would go to ask Alex something and she’d be sitting on the edge of the bed she’d been recently fucked in and that just bothered him right now. She better change her sheets immediately. He kept his sheets clean for the times she came in and threw herself down on his bed and started snacking or talking or both. Maybe he wasn’t the cleanest guy about everything but he kept his bed clean. He wasn’t going to make Alex roll around in the sweat and sex of another woman.
He couldn’t hear anything. Were the walls really that sound-proof or was she quiet? Was sex the only time of her life Alex was quiet? That was a joke. Or maybe Hoseok just wasn’t as good at this as Alex thought. She had a low bar. There must be a way to make her scream–
Jesus. This dry spell had to end. Jungkook got out of bed and paced his bedroom just to move. It was not normal to be this bothered knowing your friend was getting railed in her bed just a few yards away. Good for her! He’d said that before! He’d say it again! Alex deserved that– a happy relationship, good sex. She was his best friend! He wanted all those things for her!
He just didn’t want to lose her, that was all. He knew what people were like once they got partners. If this continued on, at some point she and Hobi would move in together. They’d get married. Jungkook would get left behind and even if he and Alex stayed friends, he knew it would be different. Hobi would be the first one she called to tell things. Hobi would be the one she bickered with about Chef Boyardee. She wouldn’t want the same intimacy she’d had with Jungkook before because she’d have someone new, and he’d have to put up some wider boundaries so as not to cause problems for her, because not everyone could apparently respect their friendship. Some might be threatened by it. Like Hoseok’s reaction when Jungkook had called her baby earlier. It had made Jungkook want to call her baby a thousand more times, right there, and wrap his arms around his gremlin peanut roommate from hell like he always had been able to without issue, and ask if Hoseok had liked that little purple thing because Jungkook had seen it first and knew exactly how banging–
Goddamnit, what was happening to his brain right now? He should have known Alex getting a boyfriend was going to mess with his head. She was his best friend and he liked their life together and in all honesty he wanted to cry at the thought she was taking a step further from him every day she dated Hoseok. That was the truth. Right now he was pacing his room because there were parts of her life he’d never get to be the closest to her in –namely the one that was happening with her boyfriend right now, bother other ones too, romantic ones, marriage ones, this whole life she would have with Hoseok– while she didn’t think of him twice because she was busy getting happily split open by Hoseok’s dick– god, he hoped Hoseok didn’t have a big dick the injustice of it would be too much–
Jungkook left his room under the guise of needing to use the bathroom. It was between their rooms. In the dark, he accidentally wandered too far and had to double back. There were no lights under her door and he couldn’t hear anything, and he realized he was stupid, they’d probably already finished, or maybe not even done anything. But obviously they did do things, even if not right here. But there was something comforting about knowing they weren’t doing things right now–
“Oh.” It was the smallest, softest moan by the time it reached his ears. In all honesty, Jungkook wasn’t even sure he’d heard it. Maybe his brain had made it up.
It didn’t matter. Vague images tried to flash through his mind. He replaced them with women he’d fucked, and turned heel and ran back to his room, and grabbed his phone to see who was awake, or who he could meet up with this weekend. He was not going to be weird and lonely while Alex got her brains fucked out every day by her perfect boyfriend. His unintentional off-week had him frustrated and it was making him crazy, he knew that. His brain was mixing up frustrations right now and that was bad bad bad. He should have known this would happen, but he had a hard rule about Alex, and that was that he did not let his brain just pull her into filthy fantasies or use her like that. If he needed a release, there were plenty of women to find who were game for that, and Alex was protected because she was special and had a special place in his life. So if his cock wanted to try and fuck with him right now, reaching for that moan in the dark, he’d just have to stuff it somewhere eles and quickly.
Like the fleshlight Alex had bought him as a birthday gag gift years ago that only saw occasional use. Only in an emergency. Because no one was fucking answering his messages tonight, like none of them went out on a Wednesday night ever! 11:30 was not too late for a booty call!
So maybe Hoseok got a moan out of Alex. So what? Good for her. The fleshlight she’d got him might be a poor replacement for a real woman but it got way more than one moan out of him.
Jungkook groaned as his dick slotted neatly into Geneva’s pussy. He could hear her sigh of relief through his own because for a hot second there it had looked like things were not going to be successful. He’d done a decent job masking the betrayal of his dick with enough foreplay to make her cum once already, but his wrist was cramped up and his lips were getting chapped from making out and the whole point of this was supposed to be draining the dam. He never had to make out with a girl for that long these days!
“There, there, that’s good,” he murmured, grasping her hips and rolling her on top of him. Geneva was particularly good on top, her rhythms always worked him good and her thighs lasted just long enough before they’d start trembling. He loved the look of that, trembling thighs. Her tits jiggled as she rocked, keeping his attention from her grinning face or the way her mouth hung open to make these little ‘oh oh oh’ sighs. Good, this was good!
This was not good. Even as he leaned into the feeling of pleasure, he could feel himself sliding out of her, too limp to stay upright. She noticed it pretty quickly too and slid off him and leaned down to spit and suck, but he could feel her frustration in the sharp suck around his head.
“K, baby, all good,” he said, nudging her head away as it started to hurt.
She pulled off with a pop and sighed, “You’re too drunk.”
“Maybe…”
Yeah, that was true. He was too drunk. Whiskey dick and all that. He’d lost track of how many he had at the bar with Nate and Geneva and a few other coworkers. They never went out, but when he’d sent out a text to some of the colleagues he could tolerate saying he’d buy the first round, all seven had shown up.
That had felt good, to look around the table as people upended their shots. He had friends! Friend who weren’t just Taehyung and Jimin in their happy relationships and Namjoon with his fresh new romance already and Alex with her–
She was out with Hoseok again tonight, he was pretty sure. Two nights bookending the one evening he’d gotten with her this week. This would be a trend now. He’d get one evening a week for a while, and then one a month, and then no evenings. At least if it had been a perfect evening, that would have been something! It was so damn close!
Geneva pushed away and went to pee. Jungkook just lay there for a moment, giving his cock one last chance to rally. It did not, no surprise when he couldn’t think of anything sexy at the moment, just his lazy evening with Alex. They’d eaten the last of the brownies she’d made to celebrate his commission win, lamenting how stale they were until it became funny. They’d splurged on a cab ride to the arcade to keep Thursday tradition up and laughed at their own disrupted game performances, the distraction of twinkling lights, the funnier-than-usual antics of their air hockey matches. They’d caught another cab home, arm wrestling, or really just flat out wrestling in the back seat over which snacks they’d DoorDash, another splurge Jungkook was willing to fund with his commission bonus. He’d bought them all anyway, anything Alex had asked for, but she’d gotten kind of annoyed with him when he’d said something about it he couldn’t really remember now. He didn’t remember what it was. But it hadn’t lasted long because Alex had always been infinitely patient with him and then they were wrestling on the couch to figure out what movie to watch and Jungkook did remember that he had thought if I was Alex’s boyfriend I would not want her wrestling like this with me knowing how much I like it. That had made him laugh but the buzz was wearing off enough not to say that to her and instead they’d watched a movie.
But then, when he’d told her to come sleep in his bed if she wanted… she had said no. She didn’t think that was ok to do anymore now that she had a boyfriend.
It was awkward to get rejected by Alex for something he hadn’t thought was anything wrong. And painful. It sucked.
Probably she was right. He could see how she was right. He had just thought the same thing, hadn’t he?
But it also wasn’t right. He was Jungkook. She was Alex. Shouldn’t a boyfriend just have to accept that?
And he’d seen so clearly suddenly the crumbling of everything he had with her as one thing after another was wrong because she had a boyfriend now and someday there would be nothing left, as soon as she and Hobi realized how much it all meant to him.
That’s what he’d been thinking last night. And those same thoughts came to him tonight as the whiskey poured. And now he lay in the bed of the only sexy female coworker he had, and he’d failed to fuck her good, and that was definitely going to be whispered about at work. His reputation, gone. Alex, gone. She’d even admitted Hoseok didn’t like that Jungkook called her ‘baby.’ Like how fucking threatened was this guy?! He got Alex! Wasn’t that enough? Did he have more demands to make? He needed to just take everything away from Jungkook?
He pushed up and grabbed his pants, at which point Geneva returned and asked without any sadness in her voice, “Oh are you going?”
“Yeah sorry I don’t want to be here anymore,” he answered, then, “Shit. I mean… uh… sorry I got too drunk, maybe another time…”
“It’s ok, you were good with your hand so that’s… something…”
He had a hard time concentrating on her face right now. Everything was kind of blurry and tilting. He stumbled out of her apartment before realizing he still needed to call a cab to take him home because he’d left his car at the bar. Maybe Alex could take him to get it tomorrow. If she was still allowed to now that she’d been dating a guy for three months or four months or whatever it was.
Actually Jungkook knew exactly how long it had been and he hated that his brain remembered things like that but couldn’t remember why he’d unlocked his phone. To get a cab. Right. But he got distracted by Instagram and looked at that and started walking. No posts from Alex about whatever she and Hoseok had done tonight which meant it either wasn’t special or wasn’t the kind of thing you should post on social media about.
He stumbled upon a little park down the road from Geneva’s apartment and even though it was late and he might get mugged, he just walked. It’d suck for the person who tried to mug him anyway; he felt outside of his own body, invincible, he’d love the excuse to beat the shit out of something or someone! And then he’d go home and sulk about it and Alex would freak the fuck out and coddle him and he’d have to pretend to hate it, all of her attention focused on him, the way she’d push his hair back and talk to him like he was a baby because she thought he thought that was funny, and he did think it was funny! Wait, when had he stopped thinking it was a funny joke? The way her tits would dangle in his face and she’d probably press her knee into his spleen as she’d try to adjust the pillows around him. Because in this scenario he was like a Union soldier in the civil war or something apparently. Just as quickly his brain decided they were in an anime instead and her nursing outfit was not leaving much to the–
What was with him lately? Jungkook was glad he was too drunk to feel things right now or he’d be really freaked out by his own inability to get her out of his head lately. He’d had to tuck all of his thoughts about her relationship and his jokes and snide comments and whatever away, because by now he’d had multiple friends tell him he was seeming possessive of her. He wasn’t! He understood she could go meet Prince Charming! He wasn’t surprised Hoseok was falling head over heels in love with Alex! He wasn’t even that surprised Alex was falling in love with Hoseok too because to make it all even more disgusting, Hoseok seemed like a genuinely good guy! And here was Jungkook walking out on a girl he worked with and would have to see again because he couldn’t even keep his dick hard. He was losing, and losing his best friend, and he just didn’t like to lose, and extra didn’t want to lose his best friend.
He pulled his phone out and called her, knowing she wouldn’t answer. He was going to leave her a drunk rambling text message because she’d think it was funny. Maybe tomorrow when she woke up in the arms of Hoseok Jung and decided to finally check her phone to see if her best friend had suffered any debilitating embarrassment or emergencies.
Instead she answered on the second ring, her voice as clear and solid as Jungkook didn’t feel right now, “Koo? Why are you calling me, what’s wrong?”
“I can just call you.”
“Uh….”
“I’m just walking. You know?”
“No, I don’t know,” she said. He adored the suspicion in her voice. “Why are you calling me? Is something wrong? Oh!” She gasped, interrupting as he started to answer. “Is this one of those situations where you need me to make an emergency so you can leave?”
“I already left.”
“Oh.”
“I’m just walking. I’m in a park…”
“Are you ok? Are you high?”
“No. Wait but yes. Uh, ok yes, high no? But drunk yes. Hey Alex can I have a ride or are you fucking?”
“What?”
“Yeah?”
“Jungkook,” she sighed, but in an amused way, like she thought he was funny. “Yeah, I’ll come get you, where are you? Send me your location.”
“Ok. Thanks ba— baloo? Baby beluga.”
“Shut up, I’ll be there in like ten minutes. Don’t get mugged.”
Trying not to call her baby made him want to do it more. Unironically calling her baby. Calling her baby not just because she was the size of one but also because she acted like one– no but also because it made her mad sometimes, if she was trying to do something and frustrated and he called her baby, or because she laughed when he tried to use fuckboy lines on her, which never worked anyway. Worked in the sense of getting her to fuck him. Not that he was trying to get her to fuck him. Alex wasn’t the kind of girl he could just fuck and forget about and she wasn’t the kind of girl who found someone like him actually charming and that was fine, he wasn’t trying to fuck her, he had blocked that whole possibility from his brain years ago.
Look, once upon a time, Jungkook had been a teenage boy, with a teenage girl best friend who was the coolest, funniest person he’d ever met. They liked all the same things. He felt understood by her. She’d had a lot to say at the time about how much she hated her flat hair or her brown eyes or her weight or her big boobs or whatever but Jungkook was just a simple teenage boy who thought she was cute and funny and special. And also obviously big tits were a positive thing. And there had been a moment in time when he’d thought about how he probably should just date and marry Alex because she seemed like the perfect girl to him –they’d made a joke about it actually and then their moms took it way too seriously.
Because there was a really important thing missing in that Alex wasn’t interested in dating him. At first he’d thought maybe Alex just didn’t want to date anyone, but she’d dated a few guys, she’d had a few crushes, she’d even had sex with Yoongi. That all seemed to prove it wasn’t dating, it was him, especially now that she was with Hoseok and fucking all the time and not asexual like he’d convinced himself. He knew she could be shy about guys but she wasn’t shy with him so that wasn’t some secret issue. She loved him, he felt loved by her, in the the most platonic friend way possible. That was precious to him. He knew, even as a teenager, that it was not worth risking that for a what if with an obvious result.
Anyway, being desired was important to him! He needed that! No matter how much he wanted to protect his life with Alex, he knew it could never be complete, not because of sex but becaues of desire. Shallow desire meets deep desire. That was what the goal was for those long term relationships, right? He got all the shallow desire he needed from the women he hooked up with, but it never had that deeper level, and that’s why he was called a fuckboy. Meanwhile Namjoon and his ex married young and in love and stopped having sex long before they gave up on the relationship, maybe that was the opposite.
He and Alex had the deeper desire in spades, he thought, but he could count on his fingers the number of times she’d ever said something sincerely nice about his appearance. She usually made it sound like she couldn’t really understand why other women thought he was hot and ok, maybe it hurt his feelings sometimes but he was shielded by having realized that as a teenager and he was fine with it. Alex was his best friend and honestly that was even rarer and more precious to him than any girlfriend.
He kept thinking the word precious. He thought it was a funny word to use but his brain seemed to be hiccuping with it now, so that when Alex ran up to him, he slung his arm around her shoulder and announced,
“My precious is here!”
“Is that a Gollum reference? You fucking nerd.”
“Don’t go into the park alone, it’s dark,” he said, grinning down at her. “Damn you’re short.”
“Hey! You’re just weird and tall.”
“I wish I was tall,” he sighed. “Maybe in my next life.”
“Nah you’ll probably be shorter because of all your bad deeds.”
“I do the deed good. You don’t know.”
“Is that what you were doing tonight?” she prodded. “Good deeds? Bad deeds?”
“I failed the deed,” he sighed. Then, “You don’t need to know.”
“Yeah I don’t need to know, “ she laughed.
“Did you do the deed? Wait no don’t tell me, I don’t need to know.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to know,” she parroted again. “But what are you so drunk for?”
“Did you leave your boyfriend when I called?”
“Nah. Well, yeah, but I was already heading home anyway, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
She turned him around, clearly guiding him back to her car, but she held his wrist so his arm stayed around her.
“Were you just out partying? What happened?” Suddenly her voice got very serious as she asked, “Are you… ok? Did something happen?”
“Are you asking if someone took advantage of me?”
“Yeah. Don’t laugh! That can happen to guys too! And I will kill, I’m low to the ground, they’ll never see it coming in their high heels–”
“I like short girls too,” he argued.
“Then it’ll be hand to hand combat, we’ll grapple to the death– ok don’t look so happy about it, we won’t be in jell-o.”
“At least in mud?”
“You don’t want to see that.”
“You don’t know what I want to see.”
“You’ve got a big mouth, Koo. You have kept nothing secret,” she laughed. “Come on, over there–”
“Can we just sit for a little bit?”
“Where, there aren’t any benches and it’s the middle of the night. Technically the park isn’t even open–”
“Remember that time we got kicked out of the park in high school–”
“You don’t have to clarify high school,” she pointed out. “It’s only happened once!”
“I think someone in one of the houses must have called the cops because they saw our flashlights.” They reached her car and she went to unlock the door but Jungkook just sat on the hood and leaned back. It was not comfortable, and the hood was still warm from the engine, but he flopped out and after a moment she came and scrambled up beside him.
“If your ass dents my hood…”
“You’ll never know with all the other dents.”
“Those aren’t my fault! Most of those are those stupid golf balls from Taehyung–”
But Jungkook was back on the park they’d been kicked out of and recalled, “The cops totally thought we were trying to find a place for like a group orgy or something but we were just… just chasing Pokemon…”
“I can’t believe they looked at us and thought we were lying about Pokemon. I wonder if when the game really took off they thought back and were like oh, those kids were telling the truth…”
“But I’ve always thought the funniest part was that they saw the four of us nerdy, awkward teens and were like ‘these kids are definitely going to fuck in a field,’’ Jungkook said. “God my acne was so bad.”
“I know, it was cute,” Alex giggled.
“Shut up, I didn’t want to be cute, I wanted to be hot!”
“Well plenty of girls think you’re hot now!”
“But not you.”
“Who cares what I think?” she demanded. “You said my opinions of who’s hot stopped counting when I liked Daniel Radcliffe.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with you?”
“What can I say, I love a tragic face scar…”
“I have a tragic face scar,” he pointed out, rolling so she could see it, as if she had never noticed it before.
“The only thing tragic about it was your hand-eye coordination. I know that was from a Hotwheel car to the face.”
“No. It was from a knife fight–”
“You have the eyes of a baby doe, literally no one will believe that.”
“Isn’t a doe already a baby?”
“You’re the expert! I don’t know!”
“You’re like a fluffy little bird I think,” he mused, curled up on his side now. “Always stealing my food and cheeping too early in the morning.”
“Yeah, I’ll accept that. Mess with me and I’ll peck your eyes out–”
“No no, low on the food chain.”
“Hey!”
He laughed. Her outrage was always so funny.
“Hey, you’re really important to me.” He heard the words after he’d said them, but his mouth was already adding, “I don’t know if I ever told you that.”
She just froze and for a moment he feared he had said something way worse.
“Oh god, you’re really trashed, huh? We’re to the philosophical part of your drunk stage…”
“I mean it.”
“Ok ok. Thanks. You’re really important to me too.” She said it so easily though that he worried it wasn’t true. She was just saying that to placate him. Every day he got less important to her and she grew closer with her new perfect boyfriend. Soon all the things she put up with him –the stolen food, the unwashed dishes, the hair in the shower– would be too much. She’d be done living with him in the apartment she didn’t think was nice enough. He knew she deserved better and she was realizing it too.
“Is Hoseok’s apartment really nice?”
“Yeah, I’ve told you it is!”
“Tell me about it.”
“No,” she scoffed. “Let’s go home, you need to sleep it off.”
“Not yet. Let’s just sit here for a few minutes. Please?” He rolled onto his back and looked up, as though to prove he wasn’t going to budge yet.
“It’s late and I’m tired. I have to be up for work at five!”
“Just five minutes,” he begged and took her hand. His stomach dropped as he got this sudden feeling that this was the last moment they’d ever have like this. As if tomorrow she was going to announce her engagement. Maybe she would. Everything was going well. He didn’t know how quickly Alex would move in a relationship but she wasn’t a fuckboy like him so maybe she’d commit quickly. Maybe she was one of those falling fast and hard people. He thought that could be true about her, since he knew she was so soft and gooey on the inside of that punchy, spiky exterior.
“Fine, five minutes,” she mumbled. “The stars look nice tonight.”
They lay there in silence. The silence was a part of them that the others didn’t seem to recognize. They liked to joke that Alex and Jungkook were always teasing, always talking, two noisy old hens together, but the silence was nice too. Jungkook felt his body melt into non-existence, lying on the warm hood of the engine, looking at the stars, Alex’s little clammy hand wrapped up in his. He must have dozed off but he wasn’t aware of it, alcohol tugging his mind here and there like a balloon on a string. He was one content cat for the time being; it was no surprise he dozed off.
Alex woke him, nudging his arm, “All right, Koo, time to go home. I’m going to get in so much trouble if you fall asleep here and I have to drive home without letting you roll off the hood.” She jostled his hand in hers to rouse him.
He rolled onto his elbow, and leaned over, and kissed her.
It just happened.
It just felt like what he needed to do in the moment and his mind on the balloon string felt a tug but not quick enough to redirect.
He kissed Alex, the first kiss they’d ever shared. His sloppy, lazy lips pressed against hers, his free hand bracing himself on the car hood so he wouldn’t crush her. He’d gone in without a breath, without a thought, still half-asleep but with a mission, and had to surface for air shortly.
She hadn’t moved, hadn’t responded in any way, and when he pulled away to see her face, her shock was what made him realize what he’d just done. Her hand pressed against his chest, gently at first, and then more firmly.
“What are you doing?” she asked in the quietest voice. Then, louder, sitting up, shouldering him away from her, “How fucking drunk are you? What– why did you–”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, half his brain panicked. The other half suggested you’re halfway in, you gotta commit now. He leaned to try and kiss her again so she’d understand. He landed his mouth on hers again, somehow, and he wanted to believe it was because she let him, but just as quickly she firmly pushed against his chest.
“Stop! I’m not one of your fuck girls– Are you really so drunk you just confused me with–”
“No, Alex, I–”
“We have to go,” she said, scrambling off the hood much more quickly than she’d crawled on. “It’s time to go home. Get in the car, Jungkook.”
“Wait, Alex–”
“Just get in the car,” she said. He slid off the hood and stumbled after her as she fled to the driver’s seat. He didn’t want to scare her but he could tell she was panicking and upset and he hadn’t meant to upset her. He reached for her hand again but dropped it instantly when she shook him off like a fly.
“Wait, Alex, I–”
“Let’s just go home and forget–”
“I think I’m in love with you,” he tried to explain, the words once again leaping past his brain and just launching themselves out there in an attempt to calm her down. Wait. Did he? He didn’t. Well obviously he loved her, but not like that… but did he?!
She froze. He would never be able to say how long they were frozen there like that. Too much alcohol and the surprise of what he’d just doen rendered time eternal. He thought it might have been five minutes but probably it was not.
Finally Alex was re-animated. And she was suddenly madder than he would have expected.
“You think? You suddenly think you’re in love with me? You’ve known me for like twelve years and suddenly you– No. Bullshit! Why the fuck would you say something like that all of a sudden?”
“I…” He couldn’t keep up with what she was saying. She was yelling and his circuit board was shooting off fireworks in its sudden confusion.
“No, you’re not in love with me,” she snapped. “You’re possessive and clingy now because for the first time I have someone else in my life.”
“No, that’s not–”
“You’re just pissy that I’m not sitting around for you to find time to spend with me in between all the girls you fuck, at your beck and call whenever you need a ride or someone to feed you or someone to–”
“That’s not true!”
“Do you think I’m going to fuck you now? Or dump my boyfriend because you kissed me?”
“No. No, I…” He didn’t know what to say. He’d just done it and his brain was all wobbly and dizzy and she was mad at him and he had the sinking realization that he had just fucked up in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend yet because he was definitely very drunk. Damn, he wished he had just blacked out already.
“You don’t have feelings for me, you’re just drunk and horny, but it’s bullshit for you to do… that,” she said, spitting the word out. “That’s not fair. I thought you respected me more than that.”
“I…I do respect– Alex–”
She took a deep breath, like when she was really mad and didn’t want to eviscerate the person in front of her but only because she knew she was too cute for prison.
“Get in the car. It’s time to go home. Keep your mouth shut and to yourself.”
He just stared at her, but she threw her door open and pulled it shut behind her and started the car.
He’d kissed Alex.
But now she was pissed.
And he shouldn’t have done that.
But he wanted to kiss her again.
But with her responding this time. He felt the need for her to kiss him back so badly that it kept him rooted to the spot, the need for it made his stomach hurt.
But she didn’t want to kiss him or be kissed by him.
And he had told her he loved her in a way that felt different than any of the times they had jokingly, casually, friendly said it before, but she didn’t want to hear that either and he wasn’t even sure if it was true. He hadn’t thought that before. Where had that come from?! Sober words made drunk thoughts or– no it was the other way round…
What if she was right that it was only because he was jealous of her having someone, and pulling away, and leaving him, and willing to say and do anything to keep her from going?
And what if that was exactly what was going to happen now anyway?
But what if he really did love her and just had never realized it before because… because why? Why wouldn’t he have noticed it before? That was something you knew. What if he really was just drunk and a selfish, spoiled brat, and he had just kissed his best friend because he couldn’t stand that he wasn’t number one in her life anymore?
That sounded like him. That sounded way more like him. Alex was probably right. She knew him better than anyone in the world. If she said he only kissed her because he was drunk and being a jealous brat about her having a new perfect boyfriend, that was probably true.
She honked the horn and shouted, “Let’s go!”
He hurried around to his side of the car and tumbled into his seat.
t was a quiet ride home. He wished he could doze off again but he was awake for every excruciating minute of silence as he sobered up and regretted everything. Regretted calling her. Regretted kissing her. Regretted that stupid thing he’d said about being in love with her.
Regretted that the longer he lay awake thinking about it that night, knowing she was fuming in her own bed and would definitely never be in his again, the more he thought it might actually be true.
