Hi Guys! I wanted to start doing a monthly post of my favorite fics of the month since my last one did so well! It's going to be a lot shorter because this is only a months worth but I hope you still enjoy!!
Tumblr Oneshots:
Swim by @intplayboy (Namjoon x Reader) - Porn with Plot and holy shit its AMAZINGGG. The smut is so good and lowkey so hot 😩
Smoking Area by @toastynamgi (Namjoon x Reader) - This was on my fic TBR for a while and I finally got along to reading it and OH MY GOD. Ngl another Porn with a little plot but she announced recently there she's making a part two and I'm so excited because THE ENDING BRO
The boy is mine by @toastynamgi (Yoongi x Reader) - Another feature of toastynamgi on this list and not the last! I love this fic and im also a sucker for a good brothers best friend so when I saw this I knew I had to read it 🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️
There was a bug by @heewnss (Namjoon x Reader) - THE BUILDUP BROOOO AND THE SMUT WAS SO GOOD TOOO 🤤
AO3 Oneshots:
Tied Up by orphan_account 😩😭(Namjoon x Yoongi) - all i have to say is this is freaky as fuck and im so sad i cant read other works by the author of this...
Right Place, Right Person by lemongloss (Yoongi x Jimin) - This fic is so amazing and beautiful and I want everyone to read it and show it love
Tumblr Series:
The Hit List by @wintrbears (Jungkook x Reader) Complete! - This was on my previous list as well but now its done! Such a cute smau and overall idea was so so cute
Run, Little Bunny by @gukcnt (Yoongi x Reader) Ongoing! - So omg the smut DID GO CRAZYYYYY practically the entire second chapter, highly recommend but PLEASE read the warnings first, the smut is crazy freaky but it was soooo good.
The sweetest vice by @toastynamgi (Yoongi x Reader) Ongoing! - I genuinely love this series so so so much and I'm so excited to keep reading it when the third chapter comes out!! The plot and the build up is just so so good 😩😩😩
Yes, chef by @yoonmetogether (Yoongi x Reader) Ongoing! - AHHH chapter 3 was insane and I'm so so excited to KEEP READINGGGGG!! I will genuinely wait months for the next chapter i don't even care i love this fic too much
Current fic I'm reading:
Strike at Seven by Cxrflow (Ao3) (Yoongi x Namjoon, Seokjin x Jimin and Taehyung x Jungkook) - This is a over 400k word fic and its genuinely written so well I've been reading it CONSTANTLY. If your looking for a long fic i highly recommend this, I'm only on chapter 3/24 but I've already spent hours upon hours reading it!
Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed and please let me know if you read any of these! Show these authors some love they all deserve it ❤️❤️
୨ৎ SUMMARY !! You’re fresh off another breakup, furious at your own body for never responding the way it’s “supposed” to—and even more furious at the sinking fear that something might be wrong with you. When late-night research leads you toward fantasies you’ve never dared to voice, you turn to the one person you trust most: your best friend.
୨ৎ TAGS/WARNINGS !! NSFW, MDNI (18+), smut, angst, fluff, childhood friends (and roommates out of convenience) to lovers, exploration of D/s dynamics and BDSM, references to secretary (2002) which will be a running bit throughout this series for me, everyone is very queer in this, bisexual yoongi, bisexual MC, taehyung and jimin are dating, tags listed for each individual chapter
୨ৎ WORDCOUNT !! 49.1k and counting!
୨ৎ PLAYLIST !! the first taste by fiona apple // playground love by air // spit ft. princess nokia by show me the body // i think i'm paranoid by garbage // bull in the heather by sonic youth // i'm your man by leonard cohen // push it by garbage // starstruck by santigold // bathroom bitch by HOLYCHILD // step on me by the cardigans // #1 crush by garbage // venus as a boy by björk // all mine by portishead // teardrop ft. elizabeth fraser by massive attack // i feel love by donna summer // desire by MEG MYERS // my moon my man by feist // how deep is your love (cover) by mitski (link to spotify playlist)
Summary: In the dead of night on the tour bus, with the members fast asleep just meters away, Jungkook pulls you onto his lap and lets you ride him slowly.
Genre: Pure Smut
Pairing: Jungkook × Reader
Warnings: Explicit sexual content (18+) • Semi-Public Sex • Fingering • Unprotected Sex • Creampie • Dirty Talk • Risky Sex
The concert had drained every last drop of energy from your bones.
You trailed behind the seven members as they navigated the underground parking garage, the concrete walls still vibrating with the echoes of the stadium crowd.
Your feet ached in your boots, your throat was raw from screaming along to songs you'd memorized by heart, and your shirt clung to your skin with a mixture of sweat and confetti dust.
The plan had been simple: slip away to the staff bus, collapse into one of the empty seats near the back, and sleep until you reached the hotel.
But tonight, the staff bus was chaos.
Roadies shouted over each other, hauling equipment cases and dismantled stage pieces through the narrow aisle.
You hovered at the door, watching a technician wedge a lighting rig between two seats that used to be empty.
"Sorry," one of the managers called out, spotting you. "We're packed tonight. Equipment malfunction in Seoul—had to bring the backup rig. No spare seats."
Your heart sank. The hotel was four hours away.
"Problem?" Namjoon's voice came from behind you, low and slightly hoarse from the concert.
You turned, finding him with his hood pulled up, mask dangling from one ear, sweat-damp hair sticking to his forehead. He looked as exhausted as you felt.
"Staff bus is full," you explained, trying to keep the disappointment from your voice. "I'll figure something out. Maybe one of the crew vans—"
"Don't be ridiculous." He cut you off, but gently. A small smile tugged at his lips. "Come with us. We have plenty of room."
Your instinct was to refuse. To thank him, to insist you'd be fine, to not be a burden. You opened your mouth to do exactly that.
But your legs trembled. Your vision swam slightly at the edges. You hadn't eaten since lunch, thirteen hours ago, and the adrenaline crash was hitting hard.
"Namjoon, I can't—"
"You look like you're about to pass out," he said, matter-of-fact. "And if you pass out in a crew van, Jin will never forgive himself for not insisting you ride with us." He placed a hand on your shoulder, steering you toward the sleek black tour bus waiting at the end of the row. "One night. We'll be asleep before we hit the highway anyway. You won't even know we're there."
You wanted to argue. You should have argued.
But the need for a horizontal surface—for sleep, for rest, for just four hours of unconsciousness—overrode your pride.
"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you."
The tour bus smelled like leather and pine air freshener and the lingering scent of seven different colognes. The main lounge area was dim, lit only by the blue glow of the console lights.
Namjoon set his duffel bag down in the aisle and gestured toward the back of the bus.
"There's still one bunk free. You can take that one." A tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It's the one above Jungkook's."
Your stomach dropped.
Great.
As if tonight wasn't already overwhelming enough.
Ever since the tour had started, Jungkook had occupied your thoughts in a way you couldn't control. At first, you'd brushed it off as simple admiration. Weeks on the road together, endless rehearsals, airports, hotels—it was normal to grow attached to the people around you.
At least, that's what you'd told yourself.
But somewhere along the way, admiration had quietly turned into something far more dangerous.
Every single concert, you promised yourself you'd stay focused on your job. You were there to work, not to stare at him.
Yet the moment the lights dimmed and the music began, your eyes found him without fail.
Jungkook on stage was magnetic. The confidence in every movement. The way his smile lit up the entire stadium.
The effortless power in his voice, followed moments later by the soft grin he wore whenever the members made each other laugh.
You hated how easily he occupied your mind. How one smile from him could carry you through an exhausting sixteen-hour workday. How hearing him laugh somewhere down the hallway made you smile before you even realized it.
Completely unprofessional.
And absolutely impossible to stop.
You swallowed hard before making your way toward the bunks.
The narrow hallway was quiet, most of the lights already dimmed for the drive ahead. One by one, you passed the closed curtains until you found the empty bunk Namjoon had mentioned.
You climbed the small ladder, careful not to make too much noise.
Okay... maybe this won't be so bad.
You slipped off your shoes and crawled inside, the mattress surprisingly soft beneath your aching body. Every muscle protested as you stretched out, exhaustion finally catching up to you.
Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you closed your eyes.
But no matter how desperately you wanted to sleep. Your thoughts drifted back to him.
Think about something else.
Tomorrow's schedule. The equipment that still needed to be checked. The hotel. The endless highway stretching through the night.
You tried focusing on the steady hum of the engine, on the soft vibration beneath the mattress, on the faint rattle of dishes somewhere near the front lounge.
It didn't work.
With every passing minute, the thought settled deeper into your mind.
You let out a quiet sigh and turned onto your left side. You rolled onto your right.
Still uncomfortable.
You shifted onto your stomach, pressing your face into the pillow as if you could smother your racing thoughts.
A few seconds later, you rolled back onto your back and stared up at the dark ceiling of the bunk.
This was hopeless.
How were you supposed to fall asleep knowing Jungkook would be sleeping only a few inches beneath you?
You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn't make your heart feel like it was trying to escape your chest.
"Could you stop moving around so much?"
The voice came from directly beneath you.
"It's impossible to sleep like this."
You froze. Every muscle in your body locked into place.
He was there.
Your thoughts had been so loud, so all-consuming, that you hadn't even heard him climb into his bunk.
Heat rushed to your face. "Oh my God..." The words escaped as nothing more than a whisper. "I-I'm so sorry."
You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, wishing the mattress would simply swallow you whole. "I didn't realize you'd already come to bed."
Silence lingered for a moment.
Neither of you spoke for a few seconds.
"I'm really sorry," you whispered again, hoping you hadn't actually kept him awake for too long.
A quiet chuckle drifted up from the bunk below.
"It's okay," Jungkook replied, his voice still rough with exhaustion. "I was awake anyway."
You let out the breath you'd been holding. "I didn't even hear you come in."
"I noticed." His answer carried a hint of amusement. "You looked... pretty deep in thought."
If only you knew.
"I guess I couldn't fall asleep," you admitted.
"Long day?"
You laughed quietly. "You could say that."
"It was a long one for all of us." His words were followed by another comfortable silence. The bus continued rolling through the night, its gentle swaying almost hypnotic.
"You should try to get some rest," he said after a moment.
"I'm trying."
"Hm."
A few more seconds passed. Then his voice came again, softer this time. "If you want..."
You waited.
"You can come down here. I'm watching a show."
"What?"
"I've got my tablet." You could almost hear the smile in his voice. "I wasn't planning on sleeping yet anyway."
Your heart immediately argued with itself.
No. Absolutely not. That was a terrible idea.
You were already struggling to keep your feelings hidden. Lying next to him in the middle of the night would only make things worse.
You'd probably spend the entire time trying not to look at him. Trying not to notice how close he was.
But it was just a show. Nothing more.
You swallowed. "...Okay."
Carefully, you pushed your blanket aside and climbed down the small ladder, making sure not to make a sound that might wake the others.
Jungkook had already pulled back the curtain to his bunk. The soft glow of a tablet illuminated the small space, casting warm light across his features.
"There you are," he murmured, shifting over to make room.
The bunk was small, forcing the two of you to lie closer than you normally would.
You hesitated for the briefest moment before carefully lying down beside him, keeping as much space between you as the narrow mattress allowed.
Before you could say anything, he reached for the edge of his blanket. "There," he whispered. "It's warmer this way."
Your breath caught for a split second. "Thanks..."
You kept your eyes fixed on the screen, determined not to let him notice how fast your heart was beating.
He simply pressed play.
For a little while, neither of you said another word. Only the quiet dialogue from the show and the steady hum of the bus filled the tiny space as the night carried all of you farther down the empty highway.
The series played quietly on the tablet between you, its soft glow illuminating the cramped bunk.
You had absolutely no idea what was happening.
Someone had been running through a rain-soaked alley a few minutes ago.
Now they were sitting in a café or maybe it was a different character altogether.
Your brain had chosen to focus on literally everything else.
Jungkook lay beside you, close enough that every small movement registered instantly. Whenever the bus rounded a corner, your shoulders brushed for the briefest moment before you instinctively shifted away again.
His thigh rested lightly against yours.
You tried to pay attention to the dialogue.
"So..." Jungkook said quietly, not taking his eyes off the screen. "What did you think of tonight's crowd?"
"Hm?"
He glanced at you with a small smile. "The concert."
"Oh. The crowd was amazing."
"They really were."
You nodded, pretending to watch the next scene.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught him absently pressing the tip of his tongue against the inside of his lip, making the small piercing catch the light for just a second before he looked back at the screen.
You immediately forced your eyes forward again.
Seriously? Focus.
"So," he spoke up again after a minute, "have you seen this one before?"
You blinked. "...What?"
A quiet laugh escaped him. "I asked if you've seen this show before."
You couldn't help laughing under your breath. "I have absolutely no idea what's happening."
"I noticed." He shook his head, amused.
"I was starting to think you secretly hated my taste in shows."
"No."
"Then what's distracting you so much?"
The question caught you completely off guard. Your heart skipped. For a split second, you forgot how to breathe.
You. Because you're lying right next to me. Because you're so close I can feel the warmth of your arm.
Instead, you forced out the safest answer you could think of. You smiled sheepishly. "I'm just more tired than I thought."
He studied you for a second before giving a small nod. "Fair enough."
Then, without another question, he turned his attention back to the screen, letting the conversation fade into a comfortable silence.
The tension coiled low in your belly, a persistent ache that made you press your thighs together under the thin blanket, seeking friction that only seemed to make it worse.
You couldn't stop.
God, you were pathetic.
But the image wouldn't leave you—his tongue, that silver flash you'd caught against his lip, wondering how it would feel against your skin.
And his fingers, imagining them inside you, curling just right, making you—
You bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to sting.
Your whole body had gone rigid without you realizing it, muscles locked tight as you stared at the tablet screen.
Jungkook shifted beside you.
Just a subtle turn of his head, dark eyes sliding from the screen to your profile.
You felt the weight of his gaze like a physical touch, your breath catching and holding in your throat.
"You don't even pay attention."
You didn't move. Couldn't.
Your heart hammered against your ribs so hard you were certain he could see it.
"Are you good?"
The question hung between you, loaded with something you couldn't name.
You managed a nod, short and jerky, your throat too tight to form words.
What in the world did you do to deserve this?
Not with him so close you could smell his colonge, could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
He watched you for a moment longer, something flickering in his expression—curiosity.
"You're shaking," he observed quietly.
"Sorry," you whispered, the word barely audible.
"For what?"
You couldn't answer.
The tablet continued to play, forgotten. The bus rumbled on through the night.
If he had even the faintest idea of the thoughts currently consuming you—
You weren't sure you'd survive the embarrassment.
You stared at the side of his face, at the way the screen's glow cast shifting shadows across his sharp jawline, his attention seemingly fixed on the episode playing out in stuttering frames.
Your heart hammered so hard against your ribs you were certain it would bruise, a frantic drumbeat that seemed to fill the entire cramped bunk.
"Jungkook—"
"You know," he cut you off, voice still quiet, still casual, though his eyes never left the tablet screen. "I can help you."
The words didn't register at first.
"What?"
He turned his head slowly, dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your mouth go dry. The corner of his mouth lifted—not quite a smile.
"You know," he repeated, and now his free hand found your waist under the blanket, fingers spreading wide and possessive against your hip. "I've thought about it the whole tour."
Your breath caught, trapped in your throat.
"About fucking you."
The crude word falling from his lips sent a violent shiver down your spine, your legs clenching together involuntarily as heat flooded your face.
"I've watched you," he continued, his voice dropping lower, rougher, as his hand slid from your hip to trace the waistband of your sleep shorts. "Watched you watch me. The way you look at my mouth. The way you stare when I touch my tongue to my lip ring."
Oh god, he knew.
"You're not subtle," he murmured, leaning closer until you could feel his breath warm against your cheek, smelling faintly of the mint gum he'd been chewing earlier. "And I've been going crazy. Every night. Thinking about you just like this."
His fingers dipped lower, brushing over the fabric covering you, and you gasped, arching into the touch without meaning to, your body betraying every coherent thought you'd ever had.
"So," he whispered against your ear, his lip ring cool against your heated skin. "Do you want me to help you? Or are you going to keep pretending you're watching the show?"
"The others are here." The words came out strangled, barely a whisper, your eyes darting toward the thin curtain separating your bunk from the rest.
Jungkook didn't even flinch.
He just smiled at you and leaned in until his forehead rested against yours, his dark eyes searching yours in the dim glow of the forgotten tablet.
"Then you have to be quiet," he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "Can you do that, baby?"
The pet name sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your legs, and you nodded immediately, desperately, already abandoning any pretense of restraint.
His mouth crashed against yours the second your head moved—hungry, demanding, his lip ring cool and foreign against your soft flesh before his tongue swept inside, claiming you.
You barely registered his hand moving until you felt it—warm palm cupping your breast over your thin sleep shirt, thumb dragging across your nipple until it hardened against the fabric.
You whimpered into his mouth.
"Shh," he warned against your lips, his other hand coming up to join the first, both hands now full of you, squeezing and kneading with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the mattress.
Then his fingers found your nipples through the cotton—pinching, rolling, tugging—and you bit down on your own lip to stifle the moan that threatened to tear from your throat.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide with lust, before his hands moved to the hem of your top.
"Lift," he commanded softly.
You obeyed instantly, raising your arms as he pushed the fabric up, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the bunk before his mouth descended without preamble.
The heat of his tongue against your sensitive flesh made you jolt, your hand flying to your own mouth to muffle the cry that escaped. He laved attention on one nipple, then the other—sucking, licking, grazing his teeth just enough to make you see stars, all while his hands continued to work you with relentless precision.
"So needy," he whispered against your skin, his breath ghosting over your wet flesh and making you shiver.
His hand slid down your stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, and your hips bucked upward involuntarily, seeking, begging.
"Please," you breathed, the word barely audible.
"I've got you," he promised, dark eyes flashing up at you as his fingers found exactly where you needed him most. "Just keep quiet for me, baby. Can you do that?"
You nodded frantically, already losing yourself to the rhythm of his touch, the danger of the others just feet away making every sensation sharper, more intense, more desperately needed than anything you'd ever known.
His fingers worked you with devastating precision, curling inside you to find that spot that made your vision blur at the edges. You bit down on your own knuckles, tears pricking your eyes from the effort of staying silent, your hips rolling shamelessly against his hand.
"Fuck, you're dripping," he groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating through your chest. "So wet for me, aren't you? Such a good girl, taking my fingers like this."
You whimpered, the sound muffled and desperate, and he clamped his free hand over your mouth, his palm warm and firm.
"That's it," he breathed, his eyes locked on yours in the darkness, watching every flicker of pleasure cross your face. "I want to feel it against my hand."
He added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, and your back arched off the mattress, your cry vibrating against his palm. The wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of you filled the small space, filthy and obscene, mingling with your ragged breathing.
"Wanna see your face when you come," he growled, his thumb circling your clit in tight, merciless strokes. "Wanna watch you break apart right here, right now. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you come all over my fingers?"
You were nodding frantically, so close, teetering on the edge, when he suddenly withdrew his hand.
You made a sound of protest against his palm, needy and pathetic, but he was already moving, shoving his sweatpants down his hips, his cock springing free—thick and heavy and flushed dark, precum already beading at the tip.
"Get on me," he ordered, his voice rough with barely controlled restraint. "Wanna feel you."
You didn't hesitate.
You scrambled up, swinging your leg over his hips, your shorts somehow already shoved aside. You wrapped your hand around him, feeling him pulse against your palm.
"Fuck, yes," he hissed, his hips bucking upward into your touch. "That's it. Touch me. God, I've been so hard for you, thinking about this tight little pussy wrapped around me."
You positioned yourself above him, his tip kissing your entrance, and slowly, you lowered yourself down.
The stretch burned in the best way, filling you so completely you had to stop halfway, gasping, your hands braced against his chest.
"So fucking big," you whined, your voice barely above a breath.
"Yeah?" He grinned up at you, wicked and filthy, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Take it all, baby. I know you can. Such a good fucking girl for me, aren't you? So desperate to be filled."
You sank lower, taking him to the hilt, and both of you groaned in unison, the sound dangerously loud in the quiet bus.
"Ride me," he commanded, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Show me how much you want it. Show me how bad you've been needing this cock."
You started moving, rolling your hips in slow, experimental circles, and the sensation made your head fall back, your mouth falling open in a silent cry.
"Fuck," he praised, his eyes drinking you in, watching where you were joined, where his cock disappeared inside you again and again. "Look at you. Taking me so deep. You're so fucking tight, baby. So wet. Made for me, aren't you? This pussy was made to take my cock."
You picked up the pace, bouncing on him now, the slap of skin against skin muffled by the blanket but still audible, still dangerous. His hand found its way back to your mouth, two fingers pressing past your lips, and you sucked on them instinctively, tasting yourself on his skin.
"That's my girl," he groaned, his hips thrusting up to meet your downward strokes, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyes. "Suck them clean. Taste how fucking good you are. God, you feel incredible. So hot. So perfect."
His other hand slid between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles that had you clamping down around him, your orgasm building fast and relentless at the base of your spine.
"Gonna come for me?" he taunted, his voice strained, his own control clearly fraying at the edges. "Gonna come all over my cock like a good girl? I wanna feel it."
You shattered.
Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your body convulsing around him, your teeth sinking into his fingers to muffle the scream that tried to tear from your throat. He kept fucking up into you, chasing his own release now, his thumb never stopping its assault on your oversensitive clit, prolonging your pleasure until you were sobbing, trembling, utterly wrecked.
"Fuck," he chanted, his hips stuttering, losing rhythm. "Taking it so well. So fucking beautiful. Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna make you mine."
He came with a strangled groan, his cock pulsing inside you. His fingers bruising your hips as he held you down, taking him as deep as possible, his release spilling into you in endless spurts.
You collapsed against his chest, both of you panting, sweating, the air thick with the smell of sex and sweat and something uniquely him.
"Quiet enough for you?" you mumbled, your voice wrecked.
He laughed, breathless and satisfied, his arms wrapping tight around you. "Perfect," he whispered against your hair. "My perfect girl."
The aftermath settled over you like a heavy blanket, your heart still hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs as you lay sprawled across his chest, listening to the gradual slowing of his breathing beneath your ear.
His fingers traced lazy patterns up and down your spine, soothing now where they had been demanding minutes before.
"They're heard us."
"Probably," he repeated, softer this time, his hand stilling against your back. "Do you care?"
You lifted your head to look at him, at the way his dark eyes had gone soft around the edges, the sharp intensity replaced by something warmer, more vulnerable.
"No," you admitted. "I don't think I do."
He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness that felt more exposing than everything that had just happened.
"Good," he whispered. "Because I'm not done with you."
For now, in this cramped bunk with Jungkook's arms around you and his heartbeat steady beneath your palm, you let yourself believe that some distractions were worth the chaos they created.
And when he pulled the blanket higher over both of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered just a little too long to be casual, you closed your eyes and thought that maybe—just maybe—you wouldn't mind missing the end of every show from now on.
✸ Lovestruck Fool ─── because keeping this secret for three years was driving him crazy.
— best friend! jeon jungkook x female! reader.
— In which a brutal breakup leaves you shattered, your best friend Jeon Jungkook drags you into his car for a reckless, cross-country escape. He is your ultimate comfort zone—driving for hours, making you laugh, and keeping the ghost of your ex at bay. It’s the safe, predictable friendship you’ve always relied on. Until a single-bed booking error and whispered nights by the coast change everything. Suddenly, the boy who used to just comfort you is looking at you with a devastating intensity. Jungkook isn't just saving you from heartbreak; he’s risking everything to confess he’s been unconditionally, desperately in love with you for three years—and he has no intention of letting you go.
— best friends to lovers | slow burn to smut | | so much fun banter| rom-com| Jungkook being SO FUNNY AND SEXY | heavy emotional angst | dry humping | nipple play | dominant & possessive jungkook | Unprotected sex | One bed | dirty talk | praise | established childhood bond | wc: 27k+
...
A/N : at last
…
The absolute worst part about having your heart broken into a million pieces was not the crying. It was the fact that the rest of the world completely refused to stop moving. You felt like the universe should at least have the decency to give you a gloomy thunderstorm or a dramatic power outage. But no. The sun outside your bedroom window was blindingly bright and your phone kept buzzing with annoying notifications.
Right on your kitchen counter sat two very expensive, completely non-refundable vacation tickets. They were supposed to be for a romantic road trip. Now, they were just tiny paper slips mocking your sudden single status.
You lay completely flat on your stomach, your face buried so deep into your pillow that you were pretty sure you were breathing in dust bunnies. You were wrapped in three different blankets, wearing a giant, faded t-shirt that had a stain from last week's takeout. Your eyes were raw and puffy from a solid twelve hours of weeping, and a highly depressing acoustic song was looping softly from your phone. You had fully committed to this bed. This was your life now. You were going to become one with the mattress.
Suddenly, a loud, violent metallic scrape echoed from the front door.
You didn't even blink. Only one person on the entire planet possessed your spare house key and the absolute lack of basic human manners to use it without texting first.
A few seconds later, your bedroom door didn't just open—it swung back so hard it hit the drywall with a dull thud. The immediate, comforting scent of clean laundry, mint gum, and sweet banana milk rushed into the dark, stuffy room.
"Jesus, sweets," a loud, entirely too cheerful voice boomed. "It looks like a vampire cave in here. Seriously, did something die under the bed?"
You didn't look up. Instead, you reached out blindly, grabbed the edge of your heavy comforter, and yanked it completely over your head until you were a dark, shapeless lump. "Go away, Jungkook. I am dead. Call the police."
"Can't do that. I don't look good in police station lighting," Jungkook said. You heard his heavy footsteps cross your hardwood floor. He didn't say anything sweet or sad. He didn't ask how your feelings were. Instead, a massive, crinkling plastic convenience store bag was dropped directly onto your lower back with a heavy thump. "I brought snacks. And more importantly, I brought myself. You can thank me now."
"I don't want snacks. I want to turn into a rock," your muffled voice grumbled from beneath the layers of fabric.
Jungkook let out a long, highly dramatic sigh. "A rock? Really? That's so uncreative."
Before you could even figure out what he was doing, you felt his large, strong hands grab the loose edges of your comforter. With one quick, incredibly smooth yank, he rolled you sideways across the bed. You let out a squeak as the blanket wrapped tighter and tighter around you, pinning your arms firmly to your sides. By the time he stopped pulling, you were rolled up like a massive, helpless cylinder.
"Jungkook! Let me out right now!" you yelled, wiggling your legs furiously, but you couldn't move an inch.
"Nope. You are officially a human burrito," he declared. He sat down heavily right on the edge of your mattress, looking down at you with a massive, goofy, bunny-toothed grin. He was wearing a giant, oversized bright yellow hoodie that made him look like a giant lemon, a black beanie pushed back on his dark hair, and baggy sweatpants. He looked completely cozy and entirely too full of chaotic energy. "And according to the rules of fast food, burritos are not allowed to stay in bed all day."
He casually reached into the plastic bag, pulled out a bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, and popped it open with a loud pop. He crunched on one right next to your ear, making as much noise as humanly possible.
"You need to eat. And you need to start throwing things into a bag," he said, talking around a chip.
"I’m not going on the trip, Jungkook," you whispered. The silly mood suddenly dipped, and that familiar, heavy ache pressed down on your chest again. Your throat felt tight. "The tickets were for... you know. I’m not going to drive across the country by myself like some pathetic loser in a movie. It’s supposed to be a couple's road trip."
Jungkook stopped chewing. His dark, round eyes softened for a fraction of a second, looking at you with total warmth. But he quickly blinked it away, replaced it with a look of pure, exaggerated offense, and let out a loud gasp.
"By yourself? A pathetic loser?" He slapped a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? Are you blind? Look at me. Look at these shoulders." He puffed his chest out dramatically. "I am the literal definition of the ultimate travel partner. I can drive for ten hours straight without getting sleepy. I can lift your heavy bags without complaining. And, most importantly, unlike your trash ex-boyfriend, I actually know how to wash my own hair without being reminded."
A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. "Jungkook, be serious for once."
"I am being 100% serious!" He grabbed his phone from his pocket, flipping it around to show you a photo of his large black duffel bag sitting by his front door. "I’ve been completely packed since you called me crying at two in the morning. I even packed my good cologne. We are absolutely not letting that absolute clown ruin your summer vacation. Honestly, the guy dressed like a wet cardboard box anyway. You basically downgraded your stress level by losing him."
"He did not dress like cardboard," you mumbled, though a small part of your brain completely agreed.
"Sweets, he literally wore white socks with leather sandals to a nice seafood restaurant. We’ve discussed this. It was a crime against humanity," Jungkook joked, rolling his eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck.
He stood up, stretched his arms above his head, and walked straight over to your closet. He dragged your large, dusty suitcase out from the corner, threw it onto the floor, and opened it with a long, aggressive zipppp. Without asking for permission, he grabbed a handful of random t-shirts from your hangers and tossed them into the empty bag.
"Hey! Stop! What are you doing? Don't just throw things in there!" you shrieked, trying to break your arms free from the blanket trap.
"Then get your lazy self out of the burrito and do it properly," he countered, flashing a cheeky, challenging smile. He reached deep into your drawer and held up a bright, neon green t-shirt that you hadn't touched since a middle school spirit day. "Are we taking this? It looks like a giant highlighter. Perfect for when you get lost in the woods and I have to hunt you down."
"Give me that, you idiot!" You finally managed to kick your legs loose, scrambling out of the blanket pile like a chaotic animal to snatch the ugly shirt from his hands.
Jungkook hopped back, laughing a rich, loud sound that echoed through your quiet apartment. He stood by the window, watching with a satisfied little smirk as you finally began neatly folding your clothes and placing them into the suitcase. The suffocating, heavy weight that had been sitting on your lungs all morning suddenly felt a little bit lighter. He was loud, he was annoying, and he completely ignored your personal space, but he was exactly the distraction you needed to keep from losing your mind.
For the next thirty minutes, you both fought over what to pack. Jungkook tried to convince you that bringing five pairs of shoes was unnecessary, while he simultaneously tried to pack three different gaming controllers "just in case the hotels have a good TV." He kept grabbing random things around your room—like a giant stuffed bear and a pack of old sticky notes—and trying to drop them into the suitcase just to see your annoyed reaction.
"We are not taking the stuffed bear, Jungkook! It takes up the entire suitcase!" you yelled, throwing a pair of rolled-up socks directly at his forehead.
He caught the socks perfectly with one hand, laughing loudly. "But what if you get scared of the dark? Who is going to protect you? Me? I'm terrified of ghosts. The bear is our only line of defense."
"I'll take my chances with the ghosts," you laughed, snatching the bear back and tossing it onto your bed.
Once the suitcase was finally zipped shut, Jungkook grabbed the handle and lifted it effortlessly, checking his imaginary watch. "Alright, let's move out. The Jeon Express is leaving the station."
You walked into the bathroom to quickly wash your face and brush your teeth. Your reflection looked a bit tired, with faint dark circles under your eyes, but the tears had completely stopped. You tied your hair up into a messy, casual bun and walked out to the parking lot.
The bright summer sun hit your face, making you squint. Jungkook was already leaning against the hood of his clean black car, holding two large iced coffees from the café down the street. He didn't say anything heavy or emotional as you approached. He just handed you the plastic cup, his warm, thick fingers brushing against yours for a brief second.
Before you could pull the passenger door open, Jungkook stepped directly into your path, blocking you. He was much taller than you, shadowing you completely from the bright light.
He reached out, his large thumb pressing gently against your cheek. He carefully wiped away a tiny, dried tear track that you had missed near your ear. His touch was incredibly soft, completely different from his usual clumsy, rough-and-tumble energy.
He looked straight down into your eyes, his voice dropping into a quiet, remarkably gentle tone. "Hey. No more crying about that guy on this trip. From this moment on, you only laugh with me. Deal?"
You stared up at his dark, clear eyes, completely caught off guard by how serious he looked for that single second. You nodded slowly, a genuine smile pulling at your lips. "Deal."
"Awesome!" Jungkook yelled instantly, completely shattering the quiet, sweet moment as he slammed his hand down onto the roof of the car and hopped into the driver's seat. "Get in, loser! We have snacks to buy and miles to burn!"
You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt as Jungkook cranked up the engine. The car filled with the cool blast of the air conditioner, and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you looked over at him. He was already tapping his fingers happily against the steering wheel, completely ready for the road. The sadness was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, but looking at his bright, energetic smile, you knew this road trip was going to be exactly what you needed.
…
The first two hours of the road trip were an absolute, unmitigated war zone. Specifically, a war over who controlled the car's Bluetooth settings, and neither of you was willing to sign a peace treaty.
The highway stretched out infinitely ahead of you, a long ribbon of gray asphalt surrounded by massive, rolling green hills and a perfectly clear blue sky. It was a textbook summer day. The windows were rolled down halfway, filling the car with a loud, roaring rush of wind that blew your hair completely wildly across your face and brought in the fresh scent of cut grass.
You were slouched deeply in the passenger seat, your knees propped against the dashboard, staring out at the passing green trees. For a brief minute, the noise of the wind faded into the background of your mind, and your brain tried to slide back into thinking about your ex. You felt that familiar, annoying little sting in your throat, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest. Automatically, wanting to drown out the silence, your hand reached toward the glowing dashboard screen to connect your phone.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jungkook asked suddenly. He didn't take his eyes off the highway, but his upper body instantly leaned toward the center console like a guard dog protecting a bone.
"I’m just trying to play a song," you said, pulling up a playlist of very quiet, very sad indie acoustic ballads. "Just background music for the drive."
"Absolutely not," Jungkook said, pressing his foot down on the gas pedal to pass a slow-moving semi-truck. "I know that exact tone of voice. You’re about to play one of those depressing songs where the singer sounds like they’re whispering while crying in a dark closet. This car is a designated heartbreak-free zone. No sad guitars allowed on my watch."
"Jungkook, it’s a beautiful song! Just let me play one!" you argued, reaching your fingers closer to the touchscreen. "It sets a peaceful mood!"
"Peaceful? Sweets, that song makes people want to stare out a rainy window and question their entire existence," he countered.
In one lightning-fast move, Jungkook snatched the charging cable, plugged it into his own phone, and slapped his device firmly into the cup holder. "Too bad. The captain has taken total control of the vessel. Prepare your ears for actual quality."
A ridiculously loud, incredibly upbeat pop song from 2012 blasted through the car speakers. The beat was incredibly fast, and entirely impossible to take seriously. It was a song you hadn't heard since high school, filled with cheesy dramatic bass drops.
You let out a massive groan, covering your face with both hands as the speakers rattled. "Oh my god, please no. Not this song. Turn it off right now! I will actually jump out of the moving vehicle, I swear to god."
Jungkook completely ignored your suffering. His face lit up with pure, unadulterated mischief. He snatched his half-empty plastic water bottle from the holder, gripping it tightly like a professional microphone. He started belting out the lyrics at the absolute top of his lungs, intentionally hitting every single high note completely out of tune. He bounced his shoulders to the rhythm, his head bobbing wildly as he kept his eyes safely glued to the road.
"Come on! I know you know the chorus! Don't lie to me!" he shouted over the blaring music, shoving the top of the water bottle toward your face like an aggressive reporter.
"I am absolutely not participating in this," you laughed, trying your hardest to maintain a stern, annoyed expression, but failing completely. You tried to swat the water bottle away, but he just leaned closer, his voice getting even louder and more ridiculous.
When the main chorus hit, Jungkook did a dramatic, slow-motion hair shake, turning his head just enough to give you a ridiculous, cheesy wink through his dark sunglasses. He looked so absurd—this highly muscular, broad-shouldered guy who spent five days a week lifting heavy weights at the gym, singing a sugary girl-pop anthem with the passion of a stadium performer.
The ridiculousness of the sight was too much. You burst into a loud, hysterical laugh that completely filled the space of the car, your ribs aching. Hearing you laugh only made Jungkook grow more confident. He started doing little seated dance moves, tapping his fingers wildly against the steering wheel and wiggling his eyebrows at you.
By the time the fourth song came on, you completely threw away your dignity. You grabbed an empty plastic coffee cup to use as your own microphone, rolled your window down all the way, and joined him. You both screamed the ridiculous lyrics out into the open air as the highway blurred past, your voices cracking on the high notes. For the first time in what felt like centuries, the heavy, suffocating cloud in your head was totally gone. You weren't a dumped ex-girlfriend wallowing in self-pity. You were just you, acting like a complete idiot with your best friend.
"We need a strategy," Jungkook said solemnly as you walked through the sliding glass doors of the convenience store. The air conditioning hit you like an icy wall, smelling faintly of stale coffee and hot dogs. "We can't just pick random snacks. We need a perfect balance of salty, sweet, sour, and a wild card."
"A wild card?" you asked, eyebrow raised as you grabbed a small plastic shopping basket.
"Yes. Something we have never tried before, or something that looks mildly dangerous to eat," he explained, completely serious. He marched straight over to the chip aisle, his eyes scanning the shelves like a scientist. "For salty, we are obviously going with the giant bag of sour cream and onion. It's a classic. No debate."
"Fine, but I get to choose the sweet snack," you argued, stepping past him to grab a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels. "These are mandatory."
Jungkook looked at the bag, then down at you, nodding slowly in approval. "Excellent choice. The salt-to-chocolate ratio is highly efficient. I respect it." He then wandered over to the candy section, holding up a box of extremely sour gummy worms. "For sour, we go with these. They look like they will strip the enamel right off our teeth. Perfect."
"And what’s the wild card?" you asked, following him as he walked over to a weird display near the cash register.
He pointed a finger at a dusty jar containing massive, bright pink pickled sausages floating in cloudy liquid. "Those. They look like an alien life form."
"Absolutely not, Jungkook! I am not letting you eat a radioactive sausage in your car. The smell will never leave the fabric," you shrieked, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the counter.
Jungkook laughed, a rich, bouncy sound that made his chest shake against your hand. He let you drag him toward the drink cooler, where he immediately grabbed three bottles of sweet banana milk and an iced coffee for you. "Fine, no alien sausages. But if we run out of fuel for our brains, I’m blaming you."
By the time you reached the register, your basket was completely overflowing with junk food. Jungkook pulled out his wallet before you could even reach for yours, tossing his card to the cashier with a confident smirk.
"I told you, I’m funding the snack department on this trip," he said, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully. "Your money is no good here, sweets."
"You're just trying to buy my affection so I don't roast your music taste anymore," you teased, grabbing the heavy plastic bag as the cashier handed it over.
"Is it working?" he asked, flashing a quick, bunny-toothed grin as he pushed the exit door open for you.
"Slightly," you admitted, popping a chocolate pretzel into your mouth as you walked back out into the bright, baking afternoon heat. "The banana milk definitely helped your case."
Back on the road, the smooth, flat highway slowly began to change. The scenery grew more crowded with large patches of trees, and the road began to tilt upward as you approached the lower hills of the mountain range.
It was around this time that Jungkook’s "perfect internal navigation system," which he had spent the last thirty miles bragging about, proved to be an absolute, unmitigated disaster.
"Jungkook," you said, leaning forward in your seat and squinting through the windshield as the smooth asphalt slowly transitioned into a bumpy, unpaved road. "The giant yellow sign we passed back there definitely said 'Road Closed Ahead.' Like, in giant, flashing bold letters."
"Don't worry about it, it’s fine. The main highway has a massive traffic backup according to my radar. I’m taking a highly calculated shortcut," he said smoothly, spinning the leather steering wheel to the right with total, unearned confidence. "Trust the process. I have an internal compass. It's an instinct, really. My ancestors were probably navigators."
"Your ancestors probably didn't have to deal with dead ends, Jungkook," you muttered, holding onto the door handle as the car jolted over a particularly deep pothole.
The road grew narrower and narrower, the thick trees closing in on either side until branches were lightly brushing against the side mirrors. The GPS screen on the dashboard had completely lost its mind, showing your little car icon spinning in circles in the middle of a massive green void.
Ten minutes later, the road completely ended. It didn't just narrow down—it stopped dead at a rotten wooden farm fence. On the other side of the fence stood three very large, very brown, and very confused-looking cows. They stopped chewing their grass to stare directly through the windshield at your car.
The car went completely silent except for the low, quiet idling hum of the engine.
You turned your head very slowly on the headrest to look at him. Jungkook was still gripping the steering wheel with both hands, staring blankly through the glass at the cows. His mouth was slightly open, his brain actively processing the absolute defeat.
The silence stretched on for a solid thirty seconds.
"Wow," you whispered softly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Incredible shortcut, captain. Truly magnificent. Should I roll down the passenger window and ask the middle cow for the fastest route back to civilization, or do you want to handle the negotiations?"
Jungkook’s ears instantly turned a bright, burning shade of pink, the color creeping up from his collar. He cleared his throat loudly, stubbornly refusing to look at you at first. He squeezed the steering wheel tightly, then let out a tiny, embarrassed, high-pitched giggle that he tried to disguise as a cough.
"Hey... honestly, sweets, they look like they know the area," he mumbled, finally glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "They look like locals. They probably have a lot of wisdom."
"Admission of total defeat, Jeon. Say the words," you teased, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could lean your upper body completely across the center console, getting directly into his line of sight. "I want to hear you say it."
"Fine! I whined," he groaned, throwing his arms up in the air dramatically and letting his head fall back against the seat. "We are completely, utterly lost. My internal compass is broken. The ancestors lied to me. You win the navigation trophy. Happy now?"
"Incredibly happy," you laughed loudly, reaching your hand completely across his lap to grab his phone from the plastic dashboard mount so you could check the real map. "Now give me the device so we don't end up living in a barn with your new friends."
Because you had lunged over so quickly without thinking, your shoulder bumped hard against his broad chest. Your hand froze right on the screen of his phone.
Jungkook froze instantly beneath you. He didn't pull back. You froze too, your breath hitching as you suddenly realized exactly how close your faces were.
From this distance, the loud wind from outside felt completely quiet. The playful, chaotic energy that had filled the car for hours vanished in a single fraction of a second. You were leaning completely over his lap, your face mere inches from his. You could smell the sharp, clean, woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with the faint sweetness of the mint gum he was chewing.
His dark, round eyes were incredibly wide, staring straight down into your face. In the dimming afternoon light inside the car, his jawline looked remarkably sharp. For a tiny, terrifyingly unexpected second, his gaze dropped from your eyes down to your lips, lingering there for a heavy beat before snapping back up.
Your brain suddenly realized, with terrifying clarity, that Jungkook was very large, very solid, and entirely a grown man.
The silence lasted a second too long, the tension stretching tight like a rubber band.
Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, the sound a bit rougher than usual. He broke the weird spell by gently wrapping his large fingers around your wrist to help guide the phone into your hand, his skin burning hot against yours. He flashed a slightly forced, goofy grin to shatter the moment. "Here. Take it, captain. Save us from the cows."
"Thanks," you whispered, your voice a little breathless as you scrambled back into your own seat as fast as possible. Your heart was thumping a little too fast, a deep, hot blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks as you quickly stared down at the phone screen, praying he wouldn't notice.
"Alright," you said after a minute, desperately trying to keep your voice level and normal as you tapped the map screen. "If you put the car in reverse and back up about fifty yards, there’s a small tractor path that loops back to the main county road."
"On it," Jungkook said, clearly glad for the distraction. He threw the car into reverse, throwing his right arm over the back of your headrest so he could look out the rear window as he backed up.
Having his large arm stretched out right behind your neck made you feel incredibly small, his biceps flexing just inches from your face. You kept your eyes glued to the phone screen, pretending to study the map with intense interest, though the lines were completely blurring together.
"See? I told you I'd get us off the beaten path," Jungkook joked as the car successfully bounced back onto the main paved road a few minutes later. The playful, easygoing banter was returning, but the air in the car felt slightly different now—warmer, charged with a tiny, lingering spark that neither of you knew how to acknowledge.
"You got us into a staring contest with livestock, Jungkook," you retorted, rolling your eyes but letting out a soft laugh. "Let's just stick to the actual road from now on."
"Fines," he chuckled, tapping his fingers against the wheel as the highway finally began to wind upward into the beautiful, dark green mountains. "But if we see a cool waterfall on a dirt path, I'm not making any promises."
…
By the time you finally reached the higher mountain region, the bright summer sky had completely vanished. It was replaced by heavy, bruised-looking purple clouds. A sudden, massive downpour began to slam against the windshield, the rain coming down so thick that the wipers struggled to keep up with the sheets of water.
The GPS led you down a narrow, winding road that cut through massive forests covered in thick gray mist. It felt like you were driving straight into a movie scene. Finally, the car pulled up to a small, rustic wooden cabin nestled tightly between the trees. The yellow porch light cast a warm, blurry glow through the dark storm.
"We made it alive," Jungkook said, turning off the ignition. The sudden silence inside the car, save for the loud drumming of rain on the metal roof, felt incredibly heavy.
He looked over at you, noticing that you were shivering slightly from the sudden drop in the mountain temperature. Without saying a single word, he reached into the back seat, grabbed his spare, giant black hoodie, and dumped it right into your lap.
"Put that on before you turn into an ice cube," he said smoothly. "You're shaking."
The hoodie was completely massive on you. When you pulled it over your head, it smelled entirely like his clean laundry detergent and faint mint gum. The sleeves completely swallowed your hands, extending way past your fingers, but it was incredibly warm. You buried your nose into the high collar, instantly feeling a sense of absolute safety.
Getting the luggage inside, however, turned into a complete comedy. Jungkook, determined to show off his weekly gym progress, insisted on carrying both your giant suitcase and his heavy duffel bag at the exact same time. He grabbed both handles, took three highly confident, heavy steps toward the wooden porch, and suddenly, the cheap zipper on his overstuffed duffel bag completely popped open.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jungkook muttered, freezing in place.
Before he could drop the bags, half of his packed clothes—including five pairs of bright neon socks and his favorite oversized gaming t-shirts—spilled out onto the wet, rainy wooden steps.
You stood safely under the porch roof, burying your face in your hands as you tried to suffocate your laughter. Jungkook scrambled around in the pouring rain, frantically scooping up his wet laundry with a deeply panicked, embarrassed expression.
"Don't look at me!" he yelled dramatically, clutching a bundle of wet gray sweatpants to his chest like a shield. "This is completely destroying my cool image!"
"You don't have a cool image!" you shouted back, laughing until your stomach hurt as you helped him grab the last few stray shirts and pulled him inside the warm cabin.
The interior of the place was beautiful—all dark wood walls, a stone fireplace, and a massive glass window looking out at the rainy woods. But the second you both walked into the bedroom area, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There was only one bed. It was a massive, king-sized bed with fluffy white comforters and a mountain of pillows, sitting right in the center of the room.
"Wait a minute," you said, quickly pulling up the email confirmation on your phone. "I definitely selected the option for two twin beds. I checked the box."
Jungkook walked back out to the small main office by the lobby, returning a few minutes later while scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, so... turns out there was a massive booking glitch because of the storm. A bunch of travelers got stranded on the highway, so the place is completely full. This is the only room left in the entire place."
You looked at the single, giant bed, and then you looked at Jungkook.
In the past, sharing a sleeping space wouldn't have made you blink. You had known this guy forever. You had fallen asleep on his bedroom floor while playing video games a million times. It was always safe, always platonic, always totally effortless. But right now, standing in the dim, warm light of the cabin, the atmosphere felt completely different.
He wasn't the scrawny kid from next door anymore. He was a grown man with heavy shoulders and a presence that suddenly made the bedroom feel very, very small.
"Hey," Jungkook said softly, noticing your sudden silence. He stepped closer, clearly misinterpreting your expression. He thought you were getting sad about your ruined romantic plans again. "Look, if you’re uncomfortable, I can easily sleep on the floor. Or I can just crash in the back seat of the car. It’s seriously no big deal, sweets. Don't worry about it."
You looked at his damp hair, a few wet strands sticking to his forehead from the rain, and his wide, genuinely concerned eyes. You felt a wave of guilt for making him feel like an intruder.
"No, don't be ridiculous," you said, forcing a loud, casual laugh to clear the weird, awkward tension in the air. "It's a massive bed. We can just put a line of pillows down the middle. Like we did when we were kids. If your foot crosses over to my territory, I’m kicking you out."
Jungkook’s entire face instantly brightened, his familiar bunny smile returning in full force. "Oh, it's on. If you steal the blankets, I'm charging you a late fee."
After a highly sophisticated dinner of instant spicy ramen that you bought from the lobby store, the night grew late. The heavy rain outside continued to beat a loud, steady rhythm against the glass window. The cabin was incredibly warm, heated by the small electric fireplace in the corner.
You had changed into comfortable sweatpants but kept his giant hoodie on, the fabric keeping you completely cozy. Jungkook had changed into low-slung gray sweatpants and a simple, tight black t-shirt that showed off the lines of his arms.
You both climbed into the massive bed, keeping an intentional, wide gap of white sheet between your bodies, with a long fortress of pillows stacked neatly down the center. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling, listening to the storm.
"Hey," Jungkook’s voice was surprisingly quiet, cutting through the dark room. He was lying on his side, facing your direction, his head propped up by his hand.
"Yeah?" you asked, turning your head toward him.
Jungkook looked at you through the gap in the pillows. The playful, goofy expression was gone. He looked serious, his dark eyes analyzing you carefully. "Can I ask you something? And you have to promise not to get mad or throw a pillow at my face."
"Depends on the question," you muttered, shifting slightly under the heavy blanket.
"Why are you actually crying so much over this guy?" he asked bluntly, his voice grounded and steady.
You blinked, caught completely off guard. "What do you mean? He broke up with me right before a vacation. It's normal to be sad."
Jungkook let out a low, quiet huff that sounded like a laugh, but it wasn't mean. He rested his chin on his forearm, staring directly into your eyes. "Sweets, let’s be entirely real for a second. That guy was a total time pass. For both of you."
"He was not!" you protested, though your voice lacked real conviction.
"He absolutely was," Jungkook countered smoothly, his tone incredibly calm. "You guys dated for what, eight months? And half the time, you forgot to even text him back because you were too busy baking or watching a show. You never talked about a future with him. You never even looked excited when he called. When he was around, it was just... convenient. It was a habit."
You opened your mouth to argue, but the words completely died in your throat. You stared up at the ceiling, your heart thumping against your ribs as his words sank in.
"I stayed back and didn't say anything because it wasn't my place," Jungkook continued softly, his voice dropping into a lower, gentler register. "I honestly thought you weren't even serious about him. I thought if you broke up, you’d just say 'oh well' and move on. So seeing you completely turn into a blanket burrito and weep for twelve hours straight... it doesn't make sense. You didn't love him, sweets."
"Then why does it hurt so much?" you whispered, your voice suddenly feeling very small, very raw in the dark cabin. A tiny, hot tear slipped down the side of your face, soaking into the pillow. "Why am I so miserable?"
Jungkook didn't answer with words right away. Instead, you felt the mattress shift heavily. He didn't cross the pillow barrier completely, but he reached his large, warm hand over the top of the cushions. His long fingers gently found yours under the edge of the blanket.
He didn't squeeze your hand hard, but his grip was incredibly steady, anchor-like. His skin was burning hot against your cold fingers.
"Because your pride is hurt," Jungkook said softly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your face in the dim orange glow of the fireplace. "He rejected you, and nobody likes being rejected. It makes you feel lonely. It makes you feel like you failed at something. But you're missing the habit, not the person. You deserve someone who isn't just a 'time pass,'. You deserve someone who actually makes you feel alive."
You stared at him through the darkness, your breath completely catching in your throat.
His large thumb began to slowly, casually stroke the back of your hand, a tiny, repetitive movement that sent a strange, electric shiver straight up your arm. You were acutely, terrifyingly aware of how large he was, how close he was sitting on the other side of those pillows.
Your brain completely short-circuited. You had spent months telling yourself that your ex was the partner you were supposed to have, but standing next to Jungkook's sudden, intense emotional maturity, that entire relationship felt like a joke. The deep, unconditional comfort you felt with Jungkook right now—the way he read your mind, the way he knew exactly what you needed without you asking—it felt dangerously close to what real love was supposed to look like.
No, you told yourself fiercely, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs. You are just lonely. You are just emotional because of the breakup, so you are projecting onto your best friend. It’s just the cozy cabin setting making things weird.
"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to pull yourself back to reality.
"Yeah?" he murmured, his eyes dropping to your mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back up to meet your gaze.
"You're being entirely too smart for a guy who got lost because of three cows," you teased weakly, trying to bring back the safe, funny dynamic before the physical tension completely swallowed you whole.
Jungkook froze for a second, then let out a rich, quiet chuckle, the heavy, romantic spell breaking just enough for both of you to breathe. He didn't let go of your hand, though. He kept his fingers loosely intertwined with yours over the pillows, his warmth keeping you grounded.
"Just admit I’m right. It’ll save us a lot of time." he grumbled playfully, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You're mildly right," you admitted, a genuine, soft smile finally pulling at your lips as you closed your eyes. "Just a little bit."
"I'll take it," he whispered.
…
The following morning, the mountain storm had completely vanished, leaving behind a crisp, beautifully blue sky. The air smelled of fresh pine and wet earth. After a quick breakfast of slightly burnt toast that Jungkook managed to overcook while trying to do a celebratory dance in the kitchen, you both loaded up the car and drove further south, descending the winding mountain roads toward a historic coastal town known for its gorgeous beaches.
The three-hour drive was filled with more loud music and Jungkook trying to explain the entire deep history of a sci-fi video game with intense hand gestures that almost made him miss an exit, but it kept you laughing the entire way. The heavy, emotional conversation from the night before wasn't mentioned again, but something had fundamentally shifted. Every time his hand brushed yours near the gear shift, or every time he called you sweets with that low, casual roll of his voice, your stomach did a tiny, nervous flip.
It's just the post-breakup rebound brain, you told yourself firmly, staring out at the passing blue ocean. He's just my best friend being a good guy. And you were confident about that feeling.
By the time the afternoon sun was high and baking, you finally arrived at your next stop: a stunning, incredibly luxurious boutique hotel built right on the edge of a massive cliff overlooking the sparkling sea. It looked like a place where millionaires vacationed, complete with a grand marble lobby, high ceilings, and giant floor-to-ceiling glass walls showing off the crashing waves below.
"Wow," Jungkook muttered under his breath, adjusting the strap of his heavy duffel bag as you both walked across the polished floors. "You really went all out on this booking. I feel like I need to apologize to the floor for stepping on it with my sneakers."
"I saved up for six months for this specific stop," you said, pulling out your ID as you walked up to the grand marble front desk. "It was supposed to be the highlight of the trip."
The receptionist, an older woman with a very neat bun and a sharp, elegant uniform, typed into her computer. Her polite smile quickly faltered into a worried frown as she tapped the keyboard a few more times. "Oh, dear. It looks like we have a bit of a major system glitch today. Your reservation for a standard queen room was accidentally cancelled during our server update this morning."
Your stomach instantly dropped. "What? But I already received the confirmation email weeks ago. Is there another standard room?"
"I see that, and I am deeply sorry," the woman explained nicely, looking genuinely apologetic. "The issue is that we are completely booked tonight due to the local seafood festival. The absolute only room we have left available in the entire building is our top-tier Honeymoon Luxury Suite."
You winced, already anticipating the terrible answer. "How much extra is the upgrade fee?"
The receptionist checked her screen. "Normally, it is double the standard price. However, since it was our technical error, our policy allows me to give it to you for a very small, flat fee... if you are actually celebrating an anniversary or a honeymoon. It’s a strict rule for that specific luxury suite because of the promotional packages."
You opened your mouth, completely prepared to tell the truth, admit you were just friends, and accept the depressing fact that you’d probably have to spend the night sleeping in the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car down the street.
But before a single word could leave your lips, Jungkook smoothly stepped forward. Without warning, he slid a heavy, confident arm completely around your waist, yanking you firmly against his side. His grip was incredibly strong, remarkably warm, and shockingly casual, pressing your hip right against his thigh.
"Actually," Jungkook said, his voice dropping into a smooth, deeply charming register that you had never heard him use in his entire life. He looked down at you with an incredibly sweet, star-struck smile that looked terrifyingly real. "It’s our honeymoon. We literally just got married three days ago. Right, sweets?"
Your entire brain completely shutting down. Your eyes went wide with absolute shock, your body freezing under the intense heat of his arm wrapped around you. Jungkook gave your waist a subtle, firm little warning squeeze, his dark eyes pleading with you to just play along with the lie.
"Uh... yes! Absolutely!" you stammered out, forcing a high-pitched, awkward laugh that sounded completely insane to your own ears. "Yes! We are... newlyweds! Just so deeply in love. So much love between us."
The receptionist’s professional face instantly melted into a warm, excited grin. "Oh, congratulations! How absolutely wonderful. In that case, the Honeymoon Suite is officially yours, and I will waive the upgrade fee entirely as a wedding gift from the hotel management."
"Thank you so much, we really appreciate it," Jungkook said, flashing his perfect, white teeth as he took the gold room key card.
The exact millisecond the elevator doors slid shut and you were completely alone, you turned around and slapped his muscular arm hard. "Are you completely out of your mind? What was that?"
Jungkook let out a massive, booming laugh, rubbing his arm where you hit him even though it didn't hurt him at all. His arm dropped away from your waist, and you were deeply annoyed by how suddenly cold your side felt without his hand there.
"Hey! I just saved us a thousand dollars and got us a literal celebrity suite," he said proudly, jiggling the gold key card in front of your nose. "You should be thanking your highly attractive new husband."
"Don't say weird jokes like that," you mumbled, your face burning intensely hot as the elevator shot upward. "We have to keep pretending now. What if the staff sees us in the lobby later? We can't break character."
"Then we just act all lovey-dovey," Jungkook teased, leaning his face down closer to yours with a dramatic, exaggerated pout. "Do you want to practice holding hands right now? I can kiss your cheek if you want to make it look believable for the security cameras."
"Shut up, Jungkook," you laughed, shoving his broad chest away, but your stomach was doing wild, terrifying acrobatics. Touching his chest felt different now—less like a joke and more like an dangerous reminder of how solid he was.
The Honeymoon Suite was completely ridiculous. It was massive, featuring a private outdoor balcony built directly over the crashing waves, a private hot tub, and a giant king bed covered entirely in fresh, bright red rose petals shaped into a giant heart.
"Oh, man," Jungkook laughed, walking over to the bed, scooping up a handful of rose petals, and blowing them into the air like confetti. "They really went full romance mode. Look at this. It's like a movie set."
You walked past him out onto the sunlit balcony, leaning your hands against the stone railing to escape the enclosed space of the room. The view was breathtaking. The endless blue ocean stretched out to the horizon, the waves crashing loudly against the rocks far below. The salty, warm sea breeze blew through your hair, cooling your hot cheeks.
Jungkook walked out a second later, standing right next to you. He rested his muscular forearms on the railing, looking out at the water. In the bright afternoon sunlight, his profile looked incredibly sharp. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and his jawline looked striking.
"It’s really beautiful here," he said softly, turning his head to look at you.
You looked up, meeting his eyes. For a long, quiet moment, his expression wasn't playful or teasing at all. His dark eyes looked deep, intense, and incredibly serious. He stared down at you with a heavy look that made your breath completely catch in your throat.
"Yeah," you whispered, your heart thudding violently against your ribs. You were completely unsure if your brain was talking about the ocean view or the boy standing right next to you. "It really is."
Jungkook quickly cleared his throat, turning his head back to the water, a faint pink color dusting the tips of his ears.
With several hours to kill before dinner, Jungkook decided the beach was calling. He changed into a pair of simple black swim shorts and a loose white t-shirt, while you threw on a casual beach dress over your swimsuit.
The hotel's private beach was a secluded cove of soft, white sand trapped between towering cliffs. The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in warm shades of gold.
"Race you to the water!" Jungkook yelled the second your feet hit the sand, completely shattering the lingering awkwardness from the balcony.
"Hey! No fair, you have longer legs!" you shrieked, running after him as he kicked off his sandals, laughing wildly.
He didn't actually dive into the water; instead, he stopped right at the shoreline, letting the cool, foamy waves lap at his ankles. When you caught up to him, out of breath and laughing, he suddenly scooped up a handful of ocean water and splashed it directly at your legs.
"Jungkook! It’s freezing!" you screamed, instantly splashing him back.
What followed was a full-scale water war. Jungkook took the brunt of your splashes, dramatically throwing his arms up and pretending to be defeated by your attacks, his loud, rich laughter echoing against the cliffs. He was careful not to splash you too hard, always making sure you were having fun.
Eventually, soaked and completely exhausted from laughing, you both collapsed onto a large beach towel you had spread out on the dry sand, just out of reach of the tide. You lay flat on your back, staring up at the golden clouds, your chest rising and falling.
Jungkook propped himself up on his elbow next to you, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, sending a few stray drops of water onto your arm.
"Hey! Watch it!" you complained, giggling as you swatted at him.
"Sorry, sweets," he chuckled, his voice soft. He didn't look away this time. He stayed propped up, his dark eyes tracing the lines of your face as you smiled. The casual use of the nickname didn't feel like a joke anymore. It felt heavy.
"You know," you said quietly, trying to keep the mood light as you stared at the sky. "My ex never wanted to go to the beach. He said sand was too messy and annoying to clean out of the car."
Jungkook let out a small, flat sound from his throat. "Like I said, the guy was a time pass. A real partner doesn't care about a little sand if it means making you laugh."
You turned your head to look at him. He was looking down at you with such an intense, steady warmth that your breath completely caught. He wasn't moving closer, he wasn't overstepping, but the emotional security he was offering you was terrifying.
Your mind instantly went into overdrive. You are just comparing him to your ex because you're hurt, you lectured yourself frantically. Don't read into it. Don't ruin the best friendship you have.
"Well," you whispered, forcing a playful smirk onto your face despite the frantic thumping of your heart. "You're definitely messy, Jeon. Look at your hair."
Jungkook blinked, the intense look dissolving into a goofy crinkle of his eyes as he rubbed his messy, wet locks. "Hey, this is beach style. People pay a lot of money for this look."
You laughed, rolling your eyes, but as you both lay there watching the sun slowly dip toward the horizon, the silence between you felt completely charged. The lines were blurring faster than you could count, and you were running out of excuses to tell your own heart.
…
The golden hue of the sunset had completely melted into a deep, velvety indigo by the time you both made it back upstairs to the Honeymoon Suite. The ocean outside was a dark, roaring shadow beneath the balcony, its rhythm steady and heavy. Inside, the room felt incredibly warm, the scent of the fresh rose petals still hanging thick and sweet in the air.
You were both completely exhausted, your skin radiating that pleasant, slightly tight heat that only comes from a full day under the summer sun and salt water.
"I am so hungry I could actually eat that wooden door frame," Jungkook groaned, throwing himself flat across the giant king bed, entirely unbothered by the fact that he was crushing the neatly arranged heart of rose petals. He splayed his arms and legs out, letting out a long, dramatic sigh into the pillows. "We need food. Immediately. If I don't get protein in the next ten minutes, I am going to wither away into a shadow."
"You're not going to wither away, you dramatic infant," you laughed, walking over to the small desk to pick up the leather-bound room service menu. "Let’s see what they have."
As you flipped through the glossy pages, your eyes widened slightly at the menu options. Because it was a dedicated luxury honeymoon suite, the room service wasn't just standard burgers and fries. Everything was explicitly organized for couples.
"Uh, Jungkook?" you called out, biting your lower lip nervously. "They have a 'Lovers' Seafood Platter' for two, a 'Sweetheart Fondue Share-Box,' and... a complimentary bottle of champagne that comes automatically with any evening dinner order for newlyweds."
Jungkook popped his head up from the pillows, his dark eyes instantly lighting up like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Complimentary champagne? And a giant platter of seafood? Sweets, call them right now. Give them the fake wedding details. Tell them we are absolutely famished from all our deep, eternal newlywed love."
"Jungkook, we are going to get caught," you warned, but a small, bubbly laugh escaped you anyway.
"We won't get caught! We are committed to the bit," he insisted, scrambling off the bed and marching over to you. He leaned his shoulder against yours, looking down at the menu over your arm. He was so close you could feel the physical heat radiating off his chest, still smelling faintly of ocean salt and his clean deodorant. "Look, just put on your best 'happily married' voice. You can do it."
With a deep breath, you picked up the vintage-style room phone and dialed the kitchen. The second the staff answered, Jungkook leaned his head right next to yours, his cheek almost brushing your ear so he could overhear the call, his quiet, bouncy giggles vibrating against your shoulder.
"Hi, yes, we’d like to order the Lovers' Seafood Platter, please," you said, trying desperately to sound mature and sophisticated while Jungkook actively made ridiculous, kissy-faces at you to try and make you crack. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block him out. "Yes, room 402. And... yes, we are the newlyweds from this afternoon. Thank you."
The second you hung up the receiver, you turned around and shoved his chest hard. "You are the absolute worst! I almost choked on my own spit because you were making those stupid faces!"
Jungkook stumbled back a step, laughing that rich, loud, bunny-toothed laugh that always made your chest feel tight. "But you didn't crack! You handled it like a professional liar. I'm proud of you, wifey."
"Stop calling me that," you mumbled, your face instantly flushing a violent, brilliant shade of pink. You quickly turned your back to him, pretending to look out the dark window so he wouldn't see the massive effect his stupid, casual jokes were having on your heart rate.
Thirty minutes later, a loud, polite knock echoed at the heavy wooden door.
"I've got it," Jungkook called out, eagerly jogging over to the entrance.
You sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, smoothing down the edges of your oversized t-shirt. The door opened, and a young hotel waiter rolled in a massive, silver room service cart covered in a white linen tablecloth. On top was an absolute mountain of fresh crab legs, grilled shrimp, oysters, and two glowing candles in glass holders. Resting in a silver bucket of crushed ice was a sweat-beaded bottle of expensive champagne.
"Complimentary champagne for the beautiful newlyweds," the waiter said with a warm, respectful bow, lifting the bottle to pop the cork with a smooth, professional pop. He poured the sparkling liquid into two elegant crystal flutes. "The hotel management hopes your marriage is as beautiful and endless as the ocean view tonight."
"Thank you, man. I appreciate it," Jungkook said smoothly.
Before the waiter could turn to leave, he glanced at the large king bed, noticing the scattered rose petals, and then he looked back at the table. He picked up a small, elegant white box from the lower shelf of the cart—something that hadn't been on the menu.
"And a special, complimentary dessert from our pastry chef," the waiter added, a knowing, slightly playful smile on his face as he placed it right between the candles. "Our signature 'Aphrodite Chocolate Molten Cake.' It is designed to be shared... with only one spoon."
You almost choked on thin air. Your eyes darted to the single, shiny silver spoon resting on top of the box.
"Perfect. My favorite," Jungkook said without skipping a single beat. He reached into his pocket, handed the waiter a very generous cash tip, and bid him a good night.
The second the door clicked shut, the room fell into a heavy, quiet stillness. The two tiny candle flames flickered gently in the draft from the balcony, casting long, dancing shadows across the dark wood walls.
Jungkook walked back over to the cart, looking down at the single spoon, then up at you. The easy, confident swagger he had used with the waiter seemed to evaporate, replaced by a sudden, slightly nervous clear of his throat.
"Well," he said, his voice dropping into a lower, quieter register as he pulled out a chair for you. "The guy said it’s a gift. It would be a crime against the pastry industry to let a chocolate cake go to waste."
"Right," you whispered, standing up on slightly shaky legs and sitting down across from him.
For the first twenty minutes, the food was the perfect distraction. You both cracked open crab legs, argued over who got the biggest grilled shrimp, and drank the bubbly champagne. Jungkook, completely true to form, ended up getting a drop of seafood sauce right on the front of his clean t-shirt, which led to a five-minute bickering match about how he was incapable of eating like a civilized human being.
It was safe. It was loud. It was exactly how you two had always been.
But then, the main platter was cleared away, leaving only the small white box in the center of the table. Jungkook reached out, his large fingers untying the silk ribbon and opening the cardboard flaps.
The dessert was beautiful—a dark, rich chocolate cake dusting with powdered sugar, its center visibly soft and oozing warm, dark chocolate fudge. And there, sitting right next to it, was the single silver spoon.
"Alright," Jungkook said, picking up the utensil. He scooped up a perfectly neat, warm bite of the cake, the rich chocolate dripping slightly. He didn't hand the spoon to you. Instead, he leaned across the small table, his dark, intense eyes locking onto yours as he held the spoon out toward your mouth. "Open up, sweets. Let's see if the chef is actually a professional."
You stared at him, your eyes wide. His large hand was incredibly steady, but you could see a tiny, barely noticeable muscle twitching in his sharp jawline. He wasn't laughing. He wasn't making a goofy face. He was looking at you with a heavy, unblinking intensity that made your entire soul feel exposed.
He’s just playing into the honeymoon joke, you tried to tell your screaming brain. It's just part of the bit.
But as you slowly leaned forward and let him slide the warm, sweet bite into your mouth, the flavor of the rich chocolate was completely overwhelmed by the sheer, terrifying proximity of his body. Your lips brushed lightly against the cold silver of the spoon, and you swore you saw Jungkook’s eyes darken for a fraction of a second, his gaze dropping straight to your mouth before snapping back to your eyes.
"Is it good?" he asked, his voice noticeably rougher, dropping into a quiet, raspy whisper that sent a sharp, electric shiver straight down your spine.
"Yeah," you breathed out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the ocean waves outside. "It’s... really good."
Jungkook didn't pull back immediately. He stayed leaning across the table, his face just inches from yours in the dim, flickering candlelight. The silence stretched between you, heavy and magnetic, pulling you both in like an undertow.
In that single, agonizingly slow second, you didn't think about your ex-boyfriend once. The memory of that eight-month relationship felt like a faint, insignificant shadow from a completely different lifetime. It hadn't been real. It hadn't been deep. It had been a time pass. But this? The wild, chaotic, terrifyingly intense heat roaring through your veins right now as you stared into Jungkook's eyes?
This was real. This was the exact feeling you had been running away from because you were too scared to admit that your best friend had the power to completely destroy your entire world with a single look.
Jungkook slowly pulled the spoon back, his thumb casually wiping away a tiny speck of chocolate from his own knuckle. He didn't take a bite for himself. He just sat back in his chair, his eyes never leaving your face, watching the deep, burning blush completely cover your cheeks.
"Good," he murmured, a small, knowing, and dangerously handsome smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Because we have a lot of cake left to finish."
…
The rich, sweet taste of the chocolate cake stayed in the air long after the silver room service cart had been pushed into the far corner of the suite. The two small candles on the table had burned down a lot. Their tiny, dying flames threw long, moving shadows across the white blanket of the giant king-sized bed.
Inside the room, the air felt completely heavy. The silence was no longer the comfortable, easy quiet of two people who had known each other since they were kids. It was thick, messy, and full of confusion. Every single sound—even the rustle of the curtains—felt entirely too loud.
You felt like you could not breathe. Your chest felt tight, and your brain was spinning out of control. Needing to escape the small room before you completely lost your mind, you stepped out onto the private balcony.
The cold air hit you like a physical shock. The big storm from the night before was completely gone, but the ocean breeze here was much stronger. It carried a sharp, icy chill. The wind blew the dark fabric of Jungkook’s massive black hoodie wildly around your legs. That heavy cotton shirt was the only warm thing you had. Far below the balcony, the dark, ink-like water of the sea slammed violently against the sharp rocks, throwing white sprays of water high into the moonlight.
You gripped the cold stone railing with both hands. Your knuckles turned completely white because you were holding on so tight. You leaned your weight forward, letting the freezing mist hit your face. You desperately wanted the cold air to fix your messy thoughts.
What are you doing? you asked yourself angrily, closing your eyes tight while your heart beat fast and hard against your ribs. He is your best friend. He is Jungkook. He is the guy who has seen you look like a total mess, the guy who used to help you with your high school homework. He is just being extra nice because your ex rejected you. Do not make this weird. If you mess this up, you will lose the only safe person you have left in your life.
But the excuse did not work anymore. It felt like a total lie. The way his dark eyes had looked at you when he fed you that single spoon of chocolate, the sudden, deep roughness in his voice—that was not just friendship. It was not a joke for the hotel staff. It was something heavy, something real, and it terrified you to your core. You were not ready for this. You were still hurting, still confused, and everything was moving way too fast.
The heavy glass sliding door behind you moved with a soft, smooth click.
You did not turn around. You did not need to. The roaring sound of the wind was incredibly loud, but your body knew exactly where he was. The familiar, comforting smell of his clean laundry and the woodsy scent of his cologne cut through the salty air instantly. It wrapped around you before he even said a word.
Jungkook walked up to the stone railing. He did not stand far away from you with a safe gap between your shoulders. Instead, he leaned his large, solid body right next to your elbow. He shifted so he was facing you completely, with his back to the dark ocean.
He had changed out of his wet beach clothes into a clean, soft white tank top and loose gray sweatpants. In the bright, clear light of the full moon, he looked completely different. The cool light showed the sharp lines of his broad shoulders, his heavy chest, and the dark tattoos wrapping all the way down his right arm. He looked so big, so real, and so grown-up.
He did not speak right away. He just stood there, his dark, heavy eyes locked onto the side of your face, watching the wind pull your hair across your cheeks. The silence stretched between you for a long, painful minute. It was full of a sad, heavy ache.
"You're hiding out here," he said quietly. His voice was not loud, and he was not smiling. The playful, goofy tone he always used was completely gone. It was low, deep, and steady.
"I am not hiding," you lied immediately. Your voice sounded small and shaky. You stubbornly kept your eyes fixed on a distant white wave out in the dark sea, completely refusing to look up at him. "I'm just looking at the water. It’s a nice view. I just wanted some fresh air."
"Sweets."
The low roll of the nickname made your stomach do a painful, panicked flip. Before you could step back or run away, Jungkook reached out. His large, warm hand gently cupped the side of your neck. His long fingers wrapped slightly around the back of your neck, and his thumb rested firmly against your jawline. The heat of his palm felt like fire against your cold skin. It sent a sharp, electric shiver straight up your spine.
Gently, but with a firm strength that you could not fight, he tilted your face up. He forced you to look away from the ocean until you had no choice but to look straight into his dark eyes.
"You've been avoiding my eyes since we ate," he said softly, his gaze searching your face with a sad, deep intensity. "Your hands are shaking. And it's not because of the cold wind."
Your breath completely caught in your throat. Up close, you could see the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You could see a tiny, serious twitch in his jaw. He was looking at you with so much raw emotion that it made you feel completely naked.
"Jungkook, don't," you whispered. Tears of pure stress and confusion started to fill your eyes. Your hands came up instinctively, pressing against his solid chest to try and push him away, but your fingers just ended up gripping his tight tank top. "Please don't do this. We need to stop. We are just playing a game for the hotel room. We need to stop making these jokes. It’s getting way too complicated. I can't handle it."
"Do you really think I’m joking?" he asked.
The question was so quiet, and so deeply sad, that it felt like the entire world stopped moving. The loud sound of the crashing waves below seemed to disappear.
Jungkook stepped even closer, his large, broad body completely blocking the freezing sea wind from hitting you. He trapped you between his big frame and the stone railing. He let his hand drop from your jawline, but he did not move away. Instead, he slid both of his large hands down to grip your waist. His fingers dug firmly into the thick fabric of his own oversized hoodie that you were wearing.
He looked down at you, his chest rising and falling with a deep, heavy breath.
"I haven't been joking once on this entire trip," Jungkook confessed, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. "I wasn't joking when I rolled you into a blanket burrito just to see you smile. I wasn't joking when I told that woman at the desk you were my wife. And I definitely wasn't joking when we were inside that room just now."
"Jungkook, please stop," you sobbed out, a sudden wave of heavy panic and grief hitting your chest. A single, hot tear ran down your cold cheek. "You don't understand. I just broke up with someone two days ago! My brain is completely broken right now. I am a total mess. I am lonely, and my pride hurts, and everything hurts. I am just projecting these weird feelings onto you because you are here, because you are safe—"
"I don't care about him," Jungkook cut you off. His voice was not angry, but it had a fierce, heavy certainty that made your words completely drop to the floor. He squeezed your waist slightly, his thumb moving gently against your hip. "I told you, sweets. That guy was a time pass. You didn't love him. You never looked at him the way a person looks at someone they actually want to keep. You are crying because you hate being rejected, not because you miss him."
You stared at him, your lips parted, your mind completely stunned by how well he knew you.
"The only reason I stayed back and let you date him for months without saying a single word was because I was a coward," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping to your mouth for a second before snapping back up to yours. "I was terrified that if I told you the truth, if I told you that I love you, you’d get scared. I thought you would run away from me, and the thought of losing you completely was something I could not survive."
He took another deep, shaky breath. His big shoulders dropped as if he was finally letting go of a massive secret he had carried for years.
"But then I had to sit in my apartment and listen to you sob at two in the morning over a guy who didn't even care about you," he murmured, his voice cracking with real pain. "I had to watch you ruin your own happiness over a relationship that was just a boring habit. It almost drove me crazy, sweets. I can't do it anymore. I can't keep standing here pretending that you're just my buddy. I haven't looked at you like a friend in three years."
The words hit you like a physical blow to the chest.
Three years.
While you were just living your life, going on boring dates, and staying in a relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been standing right next to you, holding his breath, guarding his heart, and waiting for you to see him. Every single memory you had with him over the last few years—the late-night drives, the way he always brought you your favorite snacks, the way he would drop everything to come fix things in your apartment—suddenly felt completely different.
It was never just "best friend" behavior. It was real, deep, and unconditional love.
But instead of feeling happy, a massive wave of anxiety washed over you. You felt sick to your stomach. It felt too heavy. You were raw from a breakup, your life was upside down, and now your best friend—the only anchor you had left—was changing all the rules.
"Jungkook, I can't," you whispered, more tears blurring your eyes. You felt so small beneath his steady gaze. You shook your head, pulling your hands back to your own chest. "It’s too much. I'm too messed up right now. I don't know what I feel. I don't know if I'm just lonely or if I'm losing my mind. I can't give you an answer. I can't promise you anything. If I ruin this, if I ruin us, I will have nobody left."
You covered your face with your hands, your shoulders shaking as you let out a real, heavy sob. The fear in your chest was completely crushing you. You were so terrified of losing his friendship that the thought of romance felt like a dangerous trap.
Seeing your complete panic and distress, the intense look in Jungkook's eyes instantly melted away. The large, muscular guy who looked so intimidating a second ago suddenly looked incredibly soft and gentle. He realized he was pushing you too hard when you were already broken.
He immediately let go of your waist. He did not pull away completely, but he took away the pressure. He raised his large hands and gently, carefully pulled your wrists away from your face. His touch was so light, like he was handling fragile glass.
"Hey, hey. Look at me, sweets. Breathe," he murmured softly, his voice full of total warmth and comfort. He shifted closer, leaning his head down until his forehead was resting gently against yours again. He closed his eyes, letting you feel the steady, warm rhythm of his breath. "Look at me. I'm sorry. I pushed too hard."
You stayed frozen, your forehead pressed against his, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"I know your head is spinning," Jungkook whispered into the tiny space between your faces. He took one of his large hands and gently rubbed the back of your head, soothing you. "I know you just went through a breakup and you are scared. I know you're worried about ruining what we have. Hear me clearly, okay? You don't have to give me an answer tonight. You don't have to figure anything out."
He opened his eyes, staring directly into yours from inches away. His gaze was completely patient, with zero pressure.
"I don't need you to be perfect, and I don't need you to magically fall into my arms right now," he said softly, his voice ringing with absolute honesty. "I just need you to be yourself. Take all the time you need. If you need to cry about that idiot for another week, cry. If you need to just be confused, be confused. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve waited three years, sweets. I can wait a little longer."
You let out a long, shaky breath, the heavy panic in your chest slowly starting to ease. You let your head slide down from his forehead until it rested against his broad, warm shoulder. The tight, painful knot of anxiety and loneliness that had been sitting in your chest finally started to relax.
He was not forcing you to choose. He was not giving you an ultimatum. Even when he confessed his deepest feelings, his main priority was still making sure you were okay.
Jungkook let out a massive, long sigh of pure relief when he felt you relax against him. His large arms moved securely around your back, pulling your body completely against his chest. He did not hold you tight enough to scare you, but he held you close enough to let you know he was there. He rested his chin gently on top of your messy hair while the waves crashed loudly against the cliffs below.
You still did not know what the future held. You were still confused, still a bit sad, and still terrified of the new feelings blooming in your chest. But looking out into the dark, moonlit night, completely wrapped in his safe warmth, you realized you did not have to have it all figured out today. Jungkook was going to hold you until you did.
.,.
The blinding golden light of the morning sun cut straight through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors of the balcony, hitting your face and waking you up. You winced, shifting your face deeper into the pillow to escape the bright glare. Your eyes felt incredibly heavy, a bit dry and swollen from the heavy crying session on the balcony the night before.
For a few peaceful seconds, your brain was completely blank. You just felt the incredible softness of the hotel sheets and the heavy, comforting warmth of the massive king bed.
But then, the memories of the previous night came rushing back like a tidal wave, slamming straight into your chest.
Jungkook's hands on your waist. The rough, low whisper of his voice. The confession. Three years.
Your eyes snapped wide open. Your heart gave a violent, sudden thud against your ribs. You turned your head so fast your neck cracked, looking at the space right next to you on the mattress.
It was empty.
The white comforter on his side of the bed was messy and tossed aside, the spot long since cooled down. The fortress of pillows you had neatly stacked down the center of the mattress was completely destroyed, scattered across the floor like the remains of a battlefield.
A sudden, sharp wave of anxiety hit your stomach. Did he leave? Was it too awkward? Did he regret saying all of those things? You scrambled out of the bed, your legs tangling in the sheets for a second as you stood up. You were still wearing his massive black hoodie, the fabric smelling entirely like him.
"Jungkook?" you called out, your voice sounding rough and raspy from sleep.
The heavy bathroom door swung open instantly.
Jungkook stepped out into the bright bedroom, a cloud of warm, minty steam billowing out behind him. He had clearly just brushed his teeth and washed his face. He was wearing his gray sweatpants and a fresh, plain black t-shirt. His dark hair was slightly damp, sticking to his forehead in messy, boyish curls.
The second his dark eyes locked onto you, he froze right by the door frame.
The air in the room instantly grew thick and quiet. The easy, brainless routine of your old friendship felt like it was hanging by a thread. You stood by the edge of the bed, your fingers nervously pulling at the long sleeves of his hoodie, your mind racing a million miles an hour. You didn't know how to look at him. You didn't know if you should mention the balcony, or if you should pretend it was all a dream.
Jungkook analyzed your tense, rigid posture, his eyes scanning your wide, anxious eyes. A tiny, incredibly gentle look softened his sharp features. He didn't look awkward, and he didn't look regretful. He just looked patient.
He took three slow, heavy steps toward you, stopping just a few feet away so he wouldn't crowd you. He raised a hand, scratching the back of his neck, and let out a small, familiar high-pitched giggle to break the heavy silence.
"Morning, sweets," he said softly. His voice had that rough, sleepy gravel to it. "You look like you just saw a ghost. Or worse, you look like you think I’m about to force you to eat more radioactive sausages."
A tiny, involuntary laugh snorted out of your nose before you could stop it. The thick, suffocating tension in your chest cracked just a little bit, letting you breathe.
"I'm just... I'm a bit tired," you mumbled, looking down at your bare feet on the carpet. "I didn't think you'd be up so early."
"Couldn't sleep much," Jungkook admitted honestly. He didn't lie to make it easy. He stepped a tiny bit closer, his large shadow falling over you. He reached out, his warm fingers gently tapping the top of your head. "Hey. Look at me."
You slowly raised your eyes, meeting his clear, steady gaze.
"Remember what I told you last night before we went to sleep?" he asked, his tone incredibly grounded. "No pressure. Nothing changes unless you want it to. I'm still just Jungkook. I'm still the guy who is going to eat all your snacks and drive you across the country. You don't need to be weird around me."
You looked at his familiar, comforting face, and the lingering panic in your stomach finally dissolved into dust. He was giving you exactly what he promised: space to just breathe and be yourself.
"Okay," you whispered, a genuine, small smile touching your lips. "Okay."
"Good," Jungkook beamed, his massive bunny-toothed grin returning in full force, completely changing the energy of the room back to bright sunshine. "Because I ordered breakfast, and if you don't hurry up and wash your face, I am going to eat every single strip of bacon on that cart. I mean it. I’m already eyeing the plate."
An hour later, you were both back in the car, leaving the luxury hotel behind and hitting the coastal highway once again. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and the ocean sparkled like diamonds to your right.
The dynamic inside the car felt different now. The thick, heavy angst of the night before had settled into a quiet, warm hum. It wasn't the old platonic friendship, but it wasn't a rushed romance either. It was a comfortable middle ground.
Jungkook was driving with one hand on the wheel, his left arm resting on the open window frame, letting the warm summer breeze ruffle his hair. He had a playlist of soft, classic rock music playing at a reasonable volume—a compromise he made so you wouldn't complain about his 2012 girl-pop anthems.
You sat in the passenger seat, your legs curled up under you, staring at his profile. Your mind was wandering, processing everything he had said.
Three years.
You thought back to last summer, when you had first started talking to your ex. You remembered telling Jungkook about the first date. You remembered how Jungkook had gone strangely quiet for a few days, throwing himself into his gym workouts until his knuckles were raw. At the time, you thought he was just busy with work. Now, the memory made your heart ache with a deep, bittersweet pain. He had been suffering in silence, watching you walk into a relationship that wasn't even deep or real, just to keep you in his life.
"If you stare at me any harder, you're going to burn a hole right through my cheek," Jungkook said suddenly, not taking his eyes off the road but a smug, handsome smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.
You jumped slightly, your cheeks instantly turning a light shade of pink. "I wasn't staring at you. Don't flatter yourself, Jeon."
"You were totally staring," he chuckled, his voice rich and happy. "It's fine. I don't blame you. The lighting today really highlights my jawline. I look like a model in this rearview mirror."
"You look like a giant dork," you rolled your eyes, grabbing a handful of sour gummy worms from the convenience store bag and tossing one directly at his shoulder.
He caught the candy with his right hand, tossing it into his mouth with a laugh. "Hey, watch the cargo! This is fuel for the captain."
As the hours passed, you noticed that while Jungkook was keeping his promise of not pushing you for answers, his behavior had subtly changed. He wasn't hiding his feelings anymore. The small boundaries he used to maintain were completely gone.
When you stopped at a scenic overlook to see the massive cliffs cutting into the ocean, the path was steep and covered in loose gravel. In the past, he would have just walked ahead, teasing you for being slow. But today, the second your sneaker slipped slightly on a rock, Jungkook’s large, warm hand was there.
He didn't just stabilize you; he locked his long fingers securely with yours, his grip firm and burning hot against your skin.
"The ground is messy here. Hold on," he said casually, his voice steady as he guided you down the path.
Your heart gave a massive, violent thud against your ribs. Your fingers felt incredibly small tangled up in his large, calloused hand. You looked down at your joined hands, your breath catching. You waited for him to let go once you reached the flat wooden viewing deck, but he didn't. He kept his fingers loosely, comfortably intertwined with yours as you both stood by the wooden railing, looking out at the endless blue horizon.
It felt entirely natural, yet completely terrifying. It felt like a glimpse into a reality where you were completely taken care of, completely valued.
You glanced up at him. Jungkook was looking out at the water, the bright sun highlighting the strong bridge of his nose and his sharp jaw. He wasn't looking at you to see your reaction. He was just holding your hand because he wanted to, because he finally could.
"My ex hated stops like this," you whispered quietly, the thought slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it. The sorrow of the past relationship was still lingering like a faint shadow, a habit you were trying to break. "He always said if we stop every thirty miles, we'll never make it to the destination on time. He hated wasting minutes."
Jungkook’s grip on your hand tightened just a fraction, a reassuring, heavy squeeze. He didn't turn his head, but his voice dropped into that low, serious register that made your soul quiet down.
"The destination doesn't matter if you're rushing through the whole journey, sweets," he said softly. "The whole point of a road trip is to look at the views. If a guy is too busy looking at his watch to enjoy standing next to you at a place like this... he’s missing the entire point of living."
You stared at his profile, your eyes widening slightly as his words cut straight through your lingering self-doubt. The realization hit you with a massive, undeniable weight. Your ex hadn't just been a "time pass"—he had been a completely wrong fit. You had been trying to force your vibrant, messy life into a tiny, rigid box for eight months. And right next to you, the entire time, was a boy who was willing to stop at every single scenic overlook just to hold your hand and watch the wind blow through your hair.
The fear of ruining the friendship was still there, a tiny, nervous flutter in your stomach. But looking at your joined hands, the warmth spreading up your arm, you felt a new, quiet feeling starting to bloom. It was a small spark of hope.
By the time the afternoon began to fade into a soft, hazy orange sunset, you arrived at the final destination of the road trip: a sleepy, beautiful beach town famous for its outdoor night markets and boardwalks.
The hotel this time was a small, cozy motel right on the beach front. And thankfully, the booking system worked perfectly. You had a room with two separate queen-sized beds, separated by a wide, safe nightstand.
"See? No single-bed drama tonight," you joked, throwing your small backpack onto the bed closest to the window. "You're safe from my blanket-stealing crimes."
Jungkook dropped his heavy black duffel bag onto the opposite bed, leaning his hips against the mattress as he looked over at you. The golden light of the sunset filtered through the window blinds, casting long amber stripes across his face.
"Honestly? I'm kind of disappointed," he teased, a playful, wicked glint in his dark eyes. "The pillow fortress from last night had character. It was an excellent defensive structure."
"You are ridiculous," you laughed, grabbing a fresh change of clothes from your suitcase. "I'm going to change, and then we are going to that boardwalk market. I want fried food and I want it now."
"Your wish is my command, sweets," he chuckled, bowing dramatically as you walked into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, you emerged wearing a simple white sundress and denim jacket, your hair tied up into a loose, messy bun. Jungkook had changed into a clean, oversized vintage t-shirt and dark shorts. He looked completely relaxed, entirely handsome, and totally ready to cause chaos at the night market.
The boardwalk was alive with energy. Bright neon lights from the game booths reflected off the dark ocean water, and the air was thick with the delicious, mouth-watering smell of fried funnel cakes, hot churros, and grilled skewers. Music from the old carousel echoed through the crowd, mixed with the loud laughter of families and couples walking along the wooden planks.
"Alright, first stop," Jungkook declared, grabbing your wrist and dragging you straight toward a stall with a giant sign that read Fried Everything. "We are getting the giant funnel cake with extra powdered sugar. No arguments."
"I would never argue against sugar, Jeon," you said, matching his fast pace.
You spent the next hour walking through the crowds, completely stuffing your faces with junk food. Jungkook ended up getting powdered sugar all over the front of his black t-shirt within two minutes, which led to you standing in the middle of the boardwalk, giggling uncontrollably as you used a wet napkin to wipe his chest down while he whined about his ruined style.
As you wiped the white powder away, your hand brushed against the firm, warm muscle of his chest, right over his beating heart. You froze for a split second, your eyes lifting to meet his. Jungkook was looking down at you, his breathing a little shallow, his dark eyes intensely focused on your hands against his shirt.
The bustling noise of the night market seemed to blur away for that tiny second, leaving just the heavy, magnetic heat between you. You quickly pulled your hand back, clearing your throat nervously as you tossed the napkin into a nearby bin.
"There. You're clean," you whispered, your heart doing that familiar, frantic dance.
"Thanks," he murmured, his voice low.
To break the sudden, thick tension, Jungkook quickly pointed a finger at a massive game booth down the boardwalk. The booth was filled with giant, oversized stuffed animals, and a loud announcer was challenging people to hit a target with a baseball.
"Look at that giant purple plush bunny," Jungkook said, his eyes narrowing like a professional athlete entering an arena. "It looks exactly like me. I need to win it for you."
"Jungkook, those games are completely rigged," you laughed, trying to pull him back. "The balls are weighted, and the targets are tiny. You're just going to waste your money."
"Are you doubting my athletic abilities?" He gasped dramatically, slapping a hand over his heart. "Excuse me? I have perfect aim. Watch and learn, sweets."
He marched straight up to the booth, pulling out his wallet and paying the announcer for three throws. A small crowd of teenagers stopped to watch, noticing how big and focused Jungkook looked as he picked up the first wooden baseball.
He balanced his weight, his broad shoulders flexing beneath his t-shirt as he drew his arm back. With a sudden, lightning-fast motion, he threw the ball.
CRASH.
The ball hit the center target perfectly, the loud sound echoing across the boardwalk. The crowd let out a small cheer. Jungkook didn't even smile; he just picked up the second ball, his expression completely serious, his eyes locked onto the prize. He threw it again.
CRASH.
The second target shattered down. The announcer looked genuinely shocked. By the time Jungkook threw the third ball, hitting the final target dead-center, the entire booth area erupted into loud cheers and applause.
Jungkook finally relaxed, turning his head toward you with a massive, arrogant, and entirely endearing smirk. He puffed his chest out dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows. "Rigged? Please. The targets never stood a chance against the Jeon precision."
The announcer grumbled, reaching up to the high ceiling to pull down the massive, giant purple plush bunny. It was almost as big as you were, incredibly soft and completely ridiculous. He dumped it into Jungkook’s arms.
Jungkook carried the giant bunny over to you, struggling to see over the massive plush head. He shoved the giant toy into your arms, wrapping your hands around the soft fabric.
"Here," he said, his voice instantly softening as he looked down at you. The arrogant game-winner energy vanished, replaced by that quiet, deep warmth that always made your knees weak. "A line of defense for your bed tonight. Since we don't have the pillow fortress anymore."
You gripped the massive, soft bunny against your chest, burying your face in the purple faux fur for a second to hide the massive, completely overwhelmed smile pulling at your lips. The fear, the ghost of your ex-boyfriend—everything was completely losing its grip on you. Standing under the bright neon lights of the boardwalk, holding a giant prize won by the boy who had loved you silently for three years, you realized your heart was no longer breaking.
It was healing. And it was healing fast.
"Thank you, Jungkook," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes.
Jungkook reached out, his large, warm hand gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek for a single, beautiful second. "Anytime, sweets. Anytime."
…
The giant purple plush bunny was entirely too massive. As you both walked away from the noisy game booth, you had to hold the heavy toy with both arms just to keep it from dragging across the sticky wooden planks of the boardwalk. Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved casually into his shorts pockets, a smug and completely satisfied smile resting on his face. Every time a group of teenagers walked past and stared at the ridiculous size of your prize, he would puff his broad chest out just a little bit more.
"You are going to develop a permanent posture problem if you keep walking like that," you teased, nudging his arm with the side of the giant stuffed ear.
"I am walking with the swagger of a champion," Jungkook corrected smoothly, his voice full of rich, bouncy laughter. "Do you know how hard it is to hit three targets in a row with weighted baseballs? The announcer looked like he wanted to cry when he had to hand that bunny over. I basically pulled off a heist."
"You spent fifteen dollars on a toy that probably cost two dollars to make," you retorted, though you couldn't stop the massive, happy smile from taking over your face.
"Money is temporary, sweets. But the glory of winning a giant purple defense system for your bedroom? That is eternal," he chuckled, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at you.
The night market was starting to slow down as the clock moved past eleven. The heavy crowds of families were thinning out, leaving behind mostly young couples walking hand-in-hand beneath the glowing strands of yellow fairy lights. The salty sea breeze was picking up again, bringing the loud, rhythmic sound of the dark waves crashing against the wooden pillars beneath the boardwalk.
At the very end of the pier, towering over the edge of the water, sat the grand finale of the beach town: a massive, old-fashioned Ferris wheel. Its neon lights were a beautiful mix of soft pinks, deep blues, and warm golds, spinning slowly against the dark velvet sky.
Jungkook stopped walking, his eyes tracking the slow rotation of the giant wheel. He turned his head to look at you, his expression softening as the multi-colored lights danced across his sharp jawline.
"We have one more stop before we go back to the motel," he said softly, pointing a finger toward the ticket booth of the ride. "Come on."
"Jungkook, it’s late," you murmured, a sudden, familiar flutter of nervous anxiety hitting your stomach. "And I’m carrying a stuffed animal the size of a refrigerator. We won't even fit in the bucket."
"We will make it fit," he insisted, not taking no for an answer. He reached out, his large, warm hand wrapping firmly around your wrist to gently drag you toward the line.
Five minutes later, you were officially crammed into a small, swinging metal carriage. Jungkook’s prediction had been slightly wrong—the space was incredibly tight. The giant purple bunny had to be stuffed vertically between your knees, its massive plush head completely blocking the view to your left. Because the toy took up more than half the bench, you and Jungkook were forced to sit completely flush against each other on the remaining side.
His muscular thigh was pressed tightly against yours, the heat of his skin burning right through his shorts. His broad shoulder was tucked firmly beneath your own, his large frame completely surrounding you in the small metal car.
A loud, metallic clunk echoed through the air as the ride operator locked the safety bar into place. With a slow, jerky shudder, the Ferris wheel began to lift you up into the night.
As the carriage climbed higher and higher, the noisy sounds of the boardwalk games and the shouting announcers began to fade away into a quiet, distant hum. The view expanded infinitely. To your right, the tiny neon lights of the beach town looked like scattered jewels on black velvet. To your left, the endless, dark ocean stretched out into the horizon, reflecting the bright silver light of the full moon.
You leaned your head slightly against the cold metal mesh of the carriage, letting out a long, quiet breath. The beauty of the view was breathtaking, but your brain was completely unable to focus on it. You were entirely, terrifyingly aware of Jungkook’s breathing right next to you. You could feel the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest against your shoulder, the faint, comforting scent of his woodsy cologne completely trapped inside the small space.
The carriage suddenly groaned, stopping dead right at the very top of the wheel. You were suspended hundreds of feet in the air, dangling directly over the crashing black waves below.
The silence up here was absolute. The wind blew softly through the open sides of the car, rattling the metal chains above your head.
"Are you scared of heights?" Jungkook’s voice cut through the quiet. It wasn't his loud, teasing voice anymore. It was low, rough, and incredibly gentle, dropping into that serious register that always made your knees feel weak.
You turned your head to look at him. Because of how tightly you were crammed together, his face was only inches from yours. The soft, rotating neon pink light from the wheel lit up his features, catching the dark depth of his eyes and the slight, nervous parted line of his lips. He was staring directly at you, completely ignoring the beautiful ocean view behind your head.
"A little bit," you whispered honestly, your throat feeling suddenly dry. "It feels like we're just dangling in the middle of nowhere."
Jungkook didn't say a word. Instead, he slowly shifted his right hand from his lap. His large, warm fingers slipped down the side of the seat, sliding directly over yours. He didn't just hold your hand loosely this time. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them together in a tight, heavy grip that felt incredibly secure. His palm was burning hot against your cold skin.
"I’ve got you," he murmured, his dark eyes never leaving your face. "You're not going to fall, sweets. I won't let you."
Your heart gave a violent, massive thud against your ribs. The confusion that had been swirling in your head for the last three days suddenly tightened into a painful, beautiful knot right in the center of your chest.
You looked down at your joined hands resting on top of the purple plush fabric of the toy. His hand was so much larger than yours, his veins showing slightly against the back of his skin, his grip holding you like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe.
"Jungkook," you said softly, your voice trembling a little as the heavy emotion threatened to spill over. "I'm sorry."
Jungkook tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Sorry for what?"
"For being so messy," you whispered, looking up to meet his eyes through the dim pink light. "For making you drive me across the country while I cried over a guy I didn't even care about. For being so confused and scared right now. You’ve been waiting for three years... and I feel like I'm ruining everything because I don't know how to fix my own head yet."
The heavy silence returned, hanging between you as the wind blew past the carriage.
Jungkook stared at you for a long, unblinking moment. The patience in his eyes was so deep it made your chest ache. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his left hand from the safety bar. He reached across the small space, his large thumb gently pressing against your chin, tilting your face just a fraction closer to his. His touch was incredibly soft, completely devoid of his usual clumsy energy.
"Look at me," he commanded softly.
You looked, your eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.
"You are not ruining anything," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with absolute, unshakable certainty. "I told you last night on the balcony, and I mean it. I don't need you to have a perfect, healed brain right now. I don't need you to give me an anniversary date or a promise. I am here because I want to be here. I am holding your hand because it’s the only place I’ve wanted my hand to be for three years."
He took a deep, heavy breath, his chest brushing slightly against your arm as he leaned in just a millimeter closer.
"The last three days haven't been a burden to me, sweets," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips for a single, torturous second before snapping back to your eyes. "Watching you finally realize that you deserve better than a guy who treats you like a chore? Watching you laugh until your stomach hurts on the highway? That is the best thing that has happened to me in years. You are not a mess to me. You are just you."
A single, hot tear finally slipped out of your eye, running down your cheek. Jungkook didn't hesitate. He used the pad of his thumb to gently wipe the moisture away, his skin lingering against your cheekbone, his touch leaving a trail of absolute fire behind.
"So stop apologizing," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy register that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine. "Take all the time you need to figure things out. Cry if you need to. Be scared if you need to. But don't you dare think you are ruining us. We are completely fine."
You stared at him, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The lingering memory of your ex-boyfriend, the eight months of that empty, boring relationship out of habit—it completely dissolved into nothingness. It didn't exist anymore. The only reality that mattered was the boy sitting inches from you at the top of the world, holding your hand like a lifeline and offering you a love so deep it completely terrified you.
You didn't know what to say. The fear of ruining the friendship were still humming quietly in the back of your mind, but the sheer emotional safety he was giving you was completely overwhelming the doubt. Slowly, without thinking, you let your head lean sideways, resting your cheek gently against his broad, solid shoulder.
Jungkook stiffened for a fraction of a second, completely caught off guard by your sudden movement. Then, a long, heavy sigh of absolute relief escaped his lips. He shifted his arm, wrapping it securely around your shoulders, pulling you completely against his side as the Ferris wheel finally shuddered and began its slow descent back toward the earth.
He didn't press for more. He didn't try to kiss you. He just held you tight against his chest, his large hand still firmly locked with yours on top of the giant purple bunny.
…
The quiet of the motel room felt completely different from the loud, bright chaos of the boardwalk. When Jungkook clicked the heavy lock of the door into place, the sudden silence was deafening. The only sound was the low, steady hum of the old air conditioning unit beneath the window and the distant, muffled crash of the ocean waves against the sand outside.
The room was basic and cozy, illuminated only by the amber glow of a single streetlamp filtering through the plastic window blinds. Two queen-sized beds stood side-by-side, separated by a wide, dark wooden nightstand that felt like a physical boundary between your old life and whatever was happening now.
You walked over to the bed closest to the window, carefully lifting the massive purple plush bunny and sitting it upright against the headboard. It looked completely ridiculous under the dim light, its giant ears flopping forward as if it were guarding the mattress.
"Well," you said, your voice sounding incredibly small in the quiet room. "The fortress is officially in place."
Jungkook chuckled softly, dropping his heavy black duffel bag onto his own mattress with a dull thud. He stood by the edge of his bed, hands resting on his hips as his dark eyes locked onto you. The playful, confident guy from the boardwalk was gone, replaced by the quiet, intensely patient man from the Ferris wheel.
"I'm going to change into something comfortable. Don't eat all the sour worms while I'm gone."
"No promises, sweets," he teased, though his eyes stayed fixed on your face until you closed the bathroom door behind you.
Inside the small, brightly lit bathroom, you leaned against the sink and stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still flushed from the cold sea wind, and your eyes looked bright—no longer heavy with the messy tears of a painful breakup, but wide with a quiet, lingering shock. You touched your fingers to your chin, right where his large, warm thumb had rested just twenty minutes ago at the top of the Ferris wheel.
He loved you. He had loved you for three long years, through every boring date, every casual conversation, and every single time you had complained about your empty relationship. He had stood right next to you, holding his breath, just waiting for you to see him.
You let out a long, shaky breath, quickly changing into a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a loose, oversized t-shirt. By the time you turned off the bathroom light and stepped back into the bedroom, Jungkook had already changed into his favorite soft black sweatpants and was lying flat on his back on his own bed. He had his arms tucked behind his head, his dark eyes staring blankly at the popcorn texture of the ceiling.
The room was completely dark now, saved only by the thin stripes of amber light cutting across the carpet from the window.
You silently crawled under the crisp white sheets of your own bed, pulling the heavy comforter up to your chin. You turned your body onto your side, facing his direction, your eyes adjusting to the shadows.
For a long time, neither of you said a word. The silence stretched out until the ticking of the small digital clock on the nightstand felt like a countdown.
"Sweets?" Jungkook’s voice suddenly broke the quiet. It was barely a whisper, rough and incredibly raw, cutting through the hum of the air conditioner.
"Yeah?" you replied instantly, your heart giving a small, nervous skip.
You saw his silhouette shift in the dark. Jungkook turned his heavy frame onto his side, propping his head up with his right hand, facing you. In the dim light, you could see the dark, serious outline of his features and the glint of the moonlight reflecting in his wide pupils.
"Are you still thinking about him?" he asked quietly. There was no jealousy in his tone, no anger. It was just a question born out of pure, unprotected vulnerability. He sounded entirely human, entirely stripped of his usual confident armor.
You stared at him through the shadows, your fingers tightly gripping the edge of your blanket. You thought about your ex. You tried to find the familiar, sharp ache of rejection that had crushed you just three days ago in your apartment. But when you searched your mind, there was nothing left but an empty, hollow memory. The ghost of that relationship had completely vanished, replaced entirely by the warmth of Jungkook’s large hand holding yours against the dark ocean sky.
"No," you whispered honestly, the truth feeling like a massive weight lifting off your chest. "I'm not thinking about him at all. I haven't thought about him since we got on the highway today."
Jungkook let out a long, slow breath in the dark, his broad shoulders visibly relaxing against the mattress. "Good. Because he didn't deserve a single one of your thoughts anyway."
A small, bittersweet ache filled your chest as you watched him. "Jungkook... how did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Three years," you murmured, your voice cracking slightly with a sudden wave of heavy emotion. "How did you sit across from me at dinner, or watch movies with me on my couch, while I was completely blind? How did you manage to just stay my friend without letting it ruin you?"
Jungkook was quiet for a long, agonizing minute. The only sound was the distant crash of the waves outside. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, rougher, and thick with an honesty that made your throat tighten.
"It was hard," he confessed softly, his eyes never leaving yours through the dark space between the beds. "The first few months were the worst. Every time you talked about a guy you met at a coffee shop, or every time you got dressed up to go on a first date, I used to go back to my apartment and just stare at my phone, hating myself for being too scared to speak up."
He shifted slightly, his long fingers mindlessly tracing a pattern against his own pillowcase.
"But then I realized something," he whispered, his tone dropping into a deeply tender register. "Being just your friend, being the guy who got to hear your voice at two in the morning when you couldn't sleep, or the guy who got to make you laugh when you had a bad day at work... that was still better than anything else in my life. I was terrified that if I pushed you, if I told you that I wanted to hold you and kiss you, you'd get uncomfortable. You'd pull away. And the idea of a world where you don't talk to me? That was a thousand times worse than the pain of keeping it a secret."
The weight of his devotion hit you like a physical wave. Tears of pure, overwhelming emotion welled up in your eyes, blurring the sight of his silhouette in the dark. While you had been settling for a casual, empty relationship out of pure habit, Jungkook had been quietly, fiercely protecting your bond, placing your comfort entirely above his own heart.
"I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner," you choked out, a single tear escaping and dampening your pillow. "I'm sorry I was so stupid."
"Hey," Jungkook murmured instantly, his tone shifting into that urgent, protective warmth. He sat up completely, swinging his long legs over the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring across the wide gap at you. "Don't say that. I didn't tell you all of this to make you feel guilty, sweets. I told you because I wanted you to understand that you are worth the wait. Every single second of it."
You stared up at him from your pillow, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. The physical distance between the two queen beds suddenly felt entirely too far. The old rules of your friendship, the safe boundaries you had lived behind for years, felt like paper walls ready to burn down. You didn't want the wide nightstand separating you tonight. You didn't want to be alone with the lingering anxiety of the past. You just wanted his warmth. You wanted his safety.
Slowly, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, you lifted the heavy comforter and sat up.
Jungkook froze, his dark eyes tracking your movements in the shadows as you slid out from beneath your sheets. Your bare feet hit the cold carpet. Without saying a word, you walked across the narrow space separating the two beds, stopping right in front of him.
He looked up at you, his chest rising and falling heavily, his sharp jaw tight with a sudden, intense tension. He didn't move, completely holding his breath as if he were terrified that any sudden gesture would scare you away.
"Can I..." your voice trembled, your hand nervously gesturing to the empty space on his mattress. "Can I just stay here tonight? I don't want to be on that side of the room."
Jungkook didn't hesitate for even a millisecond. He instantly shifted his large body backward, pulling his blankets aside to create a wide, welcoming space right next to him. "Come here," he whispered, his voice incredibly rough.
You crawled onto his bed, the sheets smelling intensely of his familiar, woodsy cologne. You lay down on your side, curling your knees up slightly. Jungkook moved carefully, lying down right beside you. He didn't force a heavy embrace, and he didn't try to pull you into a passionate hold. True to his promise, he gave you the space to just be yourself.
Instead, he reached out in the dark, his large, warm hand finding yours beneath the blanket. He slid his long fingers between yours, locking them securely in that same heavy, burning grip from the Ferris wheel. He pulled your joined hands up, resting them right against the center of his chest, right over the steady, rapid thumping of his heart.
He leaned his forehead forward, resting it gently against the top of your head, his warm breath fanning through your messy hair.
"I've got you," he murmured softly into the dark room, his grip on your hand tightening with a reassuring, heavy squeeze. "Just close your eyes, sweets. I'm right here. No pressure, remember? We have all the time in the world."
You closed your eyes, letting out a long, shaky sigh as the very last remnants of your post-breakup loneliness completely dissolved into the mattress. Listening to the heavy, rhythmic beat of his heart beneath your fingers, completely surrounded by his protective warmth, the fear of the future finally went quiet. You didn't know what tomorrow would look like, and you didn't know how long it would take to fix your scrambled thoughts, but as you drifted off to sleep in the quiet beach motel, you knew one thing for certain.
The road trip wasn't an escape anymore. It was the moment you finally came home.
…
The soft, rhythmic rumble of the ocean waves outside the window was the first thing that drifted into your consciousness. It was followed closely by a heavy, radiating warmth that completely enveloped your entire body. As your eyes slowly blinked open against the dim morning light filtering through the plastic blinds, you didn't feel the cold, empty space of a lonely hotel bed.
Instead, you were completely anchored.
You were tucked firmly against Jungkook’s broad chest. His left arm was wrapped securely around your waist, his large palm resting flat against your lower back, holding you flush against his solid frame. Your own hand was still resting over his heart, your fingers loosely tangled in the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. He had one of his long legs hooked over yours, completely trapping you in a lazy, heavy embrace that felt entirely unbreakable.
You stayed perfectly still, your breath catching in your throat as the realization of where you were settled in.
Slowly, carefully, you tilted your head back to look at him.
Jungkook was already awake. He was propped up slightly against his pillow, his dark hair a messy, wild halo of bedhead curls sticking up in every direction. The soft, grayish light of the early morning highlighted the relaxed lines of his face, making him look incredibly young and soft. He wasn't looking at the window or his phone. He was just staring down at you, his dark eyes full of a quiet, unblinking adoration that made your stomach do a sudden, violent flip.
The second he noticed you moving, a tiny, incredibly tender smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His voice, when he spoke, was a deep, gravelly morning rasp that vibrated directly against your chest.
"Morning, sweets," he whispered softly, his large hand on your back giving you a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "You sleep okay?"
"Yeah," you murmured, your voice sounding small and sleepy. You looked down at his chest, your cheeks warming up. "How long have you been awake?"
"About an hour," he admitted with a tiny, boyish giggle. He didn't move his arm, keeping you locked against him. "My arm went completely numb twenty minutes ago, but you looked so peaceful I didn't want to move. I was ready to let it fall off for the cause."
A genuine laugh spilled out of your mouth, the lingering angst of waking up in his bed instantly evaporating. "You are such a dork, Jeon. You should have just pushed me off."
"Never," he murmured, his tone suddenly dropping into that low, serious register that made your heart pound. He raised his right hand, his long fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from your eyes. His touch was incredibly light, his thumb lingering against your temple. "I could stay right here for a week."
You stared at him, your breath shallow, the sheer emotional weight of his presence completely overwhelming your lingering doubts. For eight months, you had woken up next to a man who felt like a stranger, a relationship that felt like a daily obligation. But here, in a cheap beach motel room with your childhood best friend, you felt entirely seen, entirely valued, and completely safe.
"Jungkook," you said softly, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt. "Let's go to the beach. Before we have to pack up the car."
His eyes softened, a warm, supportive look taking over his face. "Whatever you want, sweets. Let's go."
…
You walked slowly along the water's edge, your sneakers sinking slightly into the wet sand. You were wearing his massive black hoodie again over your clothes, the long sleeves pulled down past your knuckles to protect your hands from the freezing wind.
Jungkook walked right beside you, his hands shoved deep into his shorts pockets, his broad shoulders hunched slightly against the breeze. He was keeping a respectful foot of space between your shoulders, true to his promise of letting you set the pace.
"It’s beautiful out here," you whispered, watching a white seagull glide low over the water.
"Yeah, it is," Jungkook said. But when you glanced over at him, he wasn't looking at the ocean. He was looking at you, his expression quiet and thoughtful.
A sudden, sharp wave of reality hit your chest, bringing back a faint hint of the familiar angst. The road trip was ending today. The beautiful escape of the highway, the luxury hotel rooms, and the neon lights of the boardwalk were over. By this afternoon, you would be driving back into the city, back to your actual lives, your apartments, and the regular routine.
"Jungkook," you started, your voice dropping as you stopped walking. You turned to face him, the wind pulling strands of hair across your face. "What happens when we go back?"
Jungkook stopped immediately, shifting his large body so he was blocking the harsh wind from hitting you directly. He looked down at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... when we get back to the city," you mumbled, looking down at your sneakers in the sand. "We have to go back to our normal lives. People are going to ask about the breakup. My ex might try to call me to get his things. And... I don't want us to become weird. I don't want to lose the easy way we used to talk just because everything is shifting."
The silence stretched between you, heavy with the fear of the future. You were terrified that once the magic of the road trip faded, the reality of changing a three-year friendship would become too heavy to handle.
Jungkook didn't answer right away. He slowly stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he was standing just inches away. He reached out, his large, warm hands coming up to gently grab the sides of your hood, pulling the thick black fabric securely around your ears to shield you from the cold breeze.
"Look at me, sweets," he commanded softly, his dark eyes completely locking onto yours with an absolute, unshakable intensity.
You raised your head, your eyes wide and a little glassy.
"Nothing is going to change unless you want it to," Jungkook said, his voice ringing with a deep, grounded certainty. "When we get back, I’m still going to be the guy who comes over at midnight to fix your broken kitchen cabinet. I’m still the guy who is going to text you stupid memes during your lunch break. The city doesn't change who we are."
He squeezed the fabric of your hood gently, his thumbs resting against the sides of your jawline.
"If you need me to just be your best friend for the next month while you sort through your brain, I will be your best friend," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly with a raw, unprotected vulnerability.
"If you need me to take you out on a proper, real date, I will do that too. I've spent three years guarding my heart around you, sweets. I am not going to run away or get weird just because we crossed the city limits. I am entirely yours. In the motel room, on the highway, or back in our apartments. You don't have to carry the pressure of fixing everything today."
The honesty in his words cut straight through the very last layer of your self-doubt. The lingering anxiety of the past relationship, the fear of making a mistake, the ghost of your old life—it all completely collapsed under the weight of his unconditional devotion. He wasn't asking you to be perfect. He was just asking you to let him hold you.
A sudden, fierce wave of clarity washed over you. You didn't want to wait anymore. You didn't want to let the fear of tomorrow ruin the beautiful, undeniable truth of what was standing right in front of you.
Slowly, your hands came out from the long sleeves of his hoodie. Your fingers were trembling slightly, but your movement was entirely deliberate. You reached up, your hands pressing against his broad, solid chest, feeling the rapid, frantic thumping of his heart beneath his t-shirt.
Jungkook completely froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes widening in total shock as you stepped even closer, your shoes touching his.
"Jungkook," you whispered, your voice thick with a beautiful, heavy emotion as you looked straight into his dark eyes. "I don't want to wait a month."
Before he could even process your words, you stood up on your tiptoes. You closed the tiny remaining gap between your faces, leaning up until your lips gently, softly pressed against his.
The touch was light, tentative, and full of a deep, lingering angst—a silent question asked after three years of waiting. His lips were incredibly soft, warm against the chilly morning air, smelling faintly of the minty toothpaste from the motel room.
For a split second, Jungkook stayed completely rigid, his mind entirely blown, as if he couldn't believe this was actually happening. But then, a low, ragged groan escaped his throat.
The hesitation vanished instantly.
His large hands dropped from your hood, sliding down to wrap fiercely around your waist. He lifted you slightly off your feet, pulling your body completely against his broad frame with a sudden, desperate strength. He leaned his head down, deepening the kiss with a raw, burning intensity that left you completely breathless. It wasn't a rushed or aggressive touch; it was a deeply passionate, emotional release of three years of unspoken love, poured entirely into the quiet morning air.
Your hands slid up his chest, wrapping securely around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his messy, damp curls as you melted completely into his warmth.
When he finally pulled back, just a fraction of an inch, his forehead rested gently against yours. His breathing was heavy and ragged, his large hands still gripping your waist tightly as if he were terrified you would disappear if he let go. A massive, breathless smile broke across his handsome face, his dark eyes shining with a pure, unadulterated happiness that completely lit up the entire beach.
"Sweets," he whispered against your lips, his voice rough and completely dazed. "If this is a dream, do not wake me up. I mean it. I will sleep forever."
You let out a soft, happy laugh, burying your face into the warm crook of his neck, your arms wrapping securely around his broad shoulders.
You had finally found your destination.
…
The steady, quiet rhythm of a late-night June rain was the only sound left in the apartment. Outside the large window, the city was just a blurry mix of red, yellow, and blue lights reflecting on the wet streets far below. The cars moved slowly through the puddles, their headlights cutting through the dark gray fog. Inside, your living room felt like a completely different world. It was warm, cozy, and quiet, lit only by the soft amber glow of a single ceramic floor lamp standing in the corner.
A full month had passed since the road trip had ended. The sudden, chaotic explosion of your old breakup had finally settled into distant history. The boxes of your ex-boyfriend's things were gone, the keys had been handed back, and the tears had completely dried up. You had both fallen back into your regular city routines. You spent your days focusing on your work, organizing your schedules, and managing your independent business projects. Jungkook went right back to his high-volume photography and graphic design work, his calendar packed with studio shoots and editing sessions.
But absolutely nothing about the space between you two felt regular anymore.
You were sitting flat on the thick, plush rug in the center of the room, your back resting against the bottom base of the couch. Spread out all around your legs was a large, messy binder filled with business papers, menu printouts, and cost spreadsheets. Your fingers traced the edge of a white paper, trying to read the lines of text, but your mind was not processing a single word or number. Every single ounce of your focus was dialed entirely into the heavy, solid presence of the boy sitting right above you on the cushions.
Jungkook was stretched out lazily across the sofa, his long legs taking up almost the entire length of the cushions. He was wearing an old, faded gray tank top that showed off the heavy, defined muscles of his shoulders and the intricate, dark patterns of the tattoo sleeve wrapping all the way down his right arm. His laptop rested heavily on his muscular thighs, and his large fingers clicked the trackpad every now and then, slowly moving through a batch of street photographs he had taken earlier that week.
For twenty long minutes, neither of you had said a single word.
In the past, a long silence like this would have been entirely brainless and comfortable. You would have been scrolling through social media on your phone, he would have been playing a video game on his console, and the air in the room would have felt light and easy. You wouldn't have thought twice about sitting together without talking. But tonight, the silence felt thick. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on the air, heavy with a new, simmering undercurrent of raw, unhurried tension that seemed to grow stronger with every single tick of the wall clock.
You shifted your position on the floor, trying to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. As you moved your legs under the binder, your shoulder accidentally brushed against the hard, warm line of his shin resting right against the edge of the couch cushions.
Jungkook did not move his leg away. In fact, the moment your skin made contact with his, his fingers stopped clicking the mouse completely. The small tapping sound vanished, making the room feel even quieter than before.
Slowly, deliberately, Jungkook lowered his laptop screen by a fraction of an inch. His dark, heavy eyes slid down from the monitor, tracking across the top of your head before locking onto the side of your face. He did not say anything at first. He just watched you through the dim light, his jawline sharp and tight, his breathing deep, slow, and steady.
"You've been rewriting that exact same line on your menu for ten minutes, sweets," he said softly. His voice was a low, sleepy gravel that vibrated right through the couch cushions against your back, sending a sudden, sharp shiver straight down your spine.
"I have not," you muttered quickly, stubbornly keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, even though your heart rate was already starting to speed up. "I am checking the prices and verifying the math. Some of us actually have to work for a living instead of just playing with photo filters and sliders all day."
A low, deep rumble of a laugh vibrated in his broad chest. "Photo filters? Is that seriously what you think I do all day in the studio?"
"Basically," you teased, finally turning your head slightly to look up at him through your eyelashes. You were trying hard to bring back the safe, funny armor of your old friendly bickering, desperately wanting to break the heavy mood. "You just make the pretty pictures look a little more blue or a little more yellow. A child could do it, Jeon."
Jungkook’s lips parted into a slow, dangerously handsome smirk. He shifted his weight, closing his laptop with a soft click and setting it down on the opposite end of the couch. He leaned his forearms onto his bare knees, bending his large upper body forward until his face was only a foot away from yours, looking down at you from over the edge of the velvet cushions.
"A child, huh?" he murmured, his dark eyes glinting with a playful, wicked challenge in the amber lamplight. "If my job is so easy, why don't you crawl up here and finish editing the next batch for me? I'll even let you wear the captain's hat and sit in the big chair."
"I am entirely too busy managing a real commercial enterprise, Jungkook," you said, tossing your plastic pen onto the binder with a dramatic, loud sigh, though your eyes wandered instinctively to the clean, sharp line of his collarbone. "I don't have time to play around with your little art projects."
"Right. A real enterprise," he teased back, his voice dropping into a lower, softer register as his gaze dropped down to your lips for a brief, fleeting second before snapping right back to your eyes. "Which is exactly why you've been holding that pen upside down for the last five minutes."
Your face instantly flushed a brilliant, hot shade of pink. You quickly looked down at your hand, realizing with absolute horror that he was entirely correct—the plastic cap of the pen was resting firmly against your thumb while the actual ink point was aimed uselessly at the ceiling.
"It's a new memory technique," you stammered out, scrambling to flip the pen around in your fingers while forcing a loud, defensive laugh to cover your embarrassment. "It stimulates the brain cells. You wouldn't know anything about it because your brain is entirely fueled by video games, bad movies, and energy drinks."
Jungkook let out another quiet, rich laugh, the sound incredibly warm and intimate in the quiet apartment. But instead of pushing the joke any further, he slowly slid off the edge of the couch. He did not rush his movements at all. He moved with a slow, agonizingly deliberate grace, his bare feet making zero sound on the soft rug as he dropped down onto his knees right on the floor beside you.
Suddenly, the safe distance between your bodies shrunk down to a matter of inches.
The physical heat radiating off his chest was shocking, cutting straight through the cool draft of the rainy June night. He sat back on his heels, resting one of his large, calloused hands flat on the floor right behind your lower back, effectively blocking you in from behind. He smelled entirely like his clean cedarwood body wash, laundry detergent, and the faint trace of mint gum.
"Alright, show me the memory technique then," he murmured, his dark eyes locked onto yours, completely unblinking. He reached out with his left hand, his long fingers moving slowly across the small space between you until his knuckles lightly, barely brushed against the soft fabric of your gray sleeve. "Explain the numbers to me, sweets. I'm all ears."
Your breath completely caught in your throat. The playful, bickering armor you had built up over three years of friendship felt incredibly thin right now. It was easy to joke around and banter when he was sitting on the other side of the room, but with him kneeling right next to you on the floor, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of your living room, the flirty energy felt heavy. It felt entirely too real.
"The... the classic boxes of four are starting at twelve dollars," you whispered, your voice sounding remarkably breathy and small compared to the steady roar of the rain outside. You looked down at the binder, your heart slamming wildly against your ribs as you pointed a trembling finger at a row of numbers. "And then there’s a three-dollar difference for the specialty collections. Like the Biscoff dream variety or the Nutella dream variety."
"Three dollars," Jungkook repeated softly. He wasn't looking at the paper or the numbers at all. He was tracing the sharp line of your jaw with his eyes, his gaze heavy, dark, and completely focused on you. "Sounds like a solid strategy, sweets."
"It is," you muttered, trying desperately to keep your voice steady and professional. "It keeps the profit margins clean. And it prevents the customers from getting confused by too many random numbers on the ordering sheet."
Jungkook slowly moved his hand from his knee. He did not grab you, and he did not push you into doing anything. Instead, his long, ink-covered fingers slid across the white pages of your binder, his fingertips lightly brushing against the edge of your hand as he reached up to gently touch the corner of the paper you were holding. His skin was burning hot, a massive contrast to your cold, nervous fingers.
"And what about the formatting?" he asked, his voice dropping into a rough, raspy whisper that fanned across the sensitive skin on the side of your neck, causing a violent wave of goosebumps to break out across your arms. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his shoulder tucking right against yours. "The layout looks a little cluttered here. Do you want me to redesign the font and the sheet for you tomorrow before you print it out?"
"I can format a spreadsheet, Jungkook," you whispered back, your eyes darting down to his mouth. His lips were parted slightly, his breathing a little shallow. The sheer, suffocating weight of the unspoken physical tension in the room was becoming completely overwhelming.
"I know you can," he murmured, his thumb slowly, casually stroking the very edge of your notebook page. "But I like helping you. It gives me an easy excuse to sit here like this."
"Like what?" you asked, finally turning your head to face him fully.
The move was a huge mistake. Your faces were so incredibly close now that if either of you leaned forward even an inch, your noses would touch. You could see the tiny mole right beneath his lower lip, the dark, clear depth of his irises, and the intense, serious focus in his expression.
"Like we have absolutely nowhere else to be tonight," Jungkook whispered, his dark eyes dropping down to your mouth, his gaze heavy and completely filled with a quiet, patient hunger that he was no longer trying to hide behind a best-friend smile. "Like I don't have to pretend that I'm looking at the paperwork when I'm actually just looking at you."
The entire apartment went completely, utterly silent. The ticking clock on the wall and the roaring rain outside seemed to completely vanish from your mind, leaving nothing but the thick, magnetic heat stretching between your bodies on the floor.
For the past month, you had both been playing completely nice. You had held hands while walking down the street, he had kissed your cheek when he dropped you off at your door after work, and you had gone on quiet, sweet dinner dates to your favorite local spots. You had both been intentionally moving slow, protecting the delicate transition from friends to something more. You wanted to make sure nothing felt rushed, pressured, or messy after your heavy breakup.
But sitting on the floor of your dark living room, with his large frame completely surrounding you and his scent filling your lungs, the feeling starting to turn into something completely impossible to control.
Your fingers instinctively tightened against the plastic of your pen, your knuckles turning white. "Jungkook... you're... you're doing it again."
"Doing what?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, low rumble that felt entirely too intimate in the dark space. He did not pull back; instead, he tilted his head just a fraction of an inch, his eyes never leaving yours.
"You're crowding me," you breathed out, your heart doing a full-scale acrobatic routine against your ribs. "You're using your giant gym shoulders to take up all the oxygen in my living room. I can barely think."
A slow, beautifully wicked smile pulled at the corner of his lips, his eyes crinkling just a tiny bit at the corners. He slowly raised his hand from the binder, his fingers moving through the air with agonizing slowness before he gently, carefully tucked a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His warm fingertips lingered against the sensitive skin of your neck, his touch so light it felt like a whisper against your skin.
"There's plenty of oxygen, sweets," he whispered, his thumb slowly tracing a short, burning line down the side of your neck, his palm resting right against your collarbone. The heat of his hand was intoxicating, making your entire body feel heavy, warm, and weak. "You're just nervous. Because you know exactly what I'm thinking right now."
"I don't have a single clue what goes on in that chaotic brain of yours, Jeon," you retorted weakly, your hand coming up instinctively to press against his broad chest, intending to push him back to a safe distance. But the second your palm hit the soft fabric of his tank top, feeling the solid, rapid, and powerful thumping of his heart beneath your fingers, your strength completely evaporated. Your fingers ended up just curling into the cotton shirt, pulling him a millimeter closer instead.
Jungkook let out a short, sharp breath, his dark eyes darkening significantly as he felt the tight grip of your fingers on his shirt.
"Sweets," he murmured, his voice cracking slightly with a sudden, deep wave of real, unprotected emotion. He did not force a heavy grip on you, and he did not rush forward to steal a kiss. He just kept his large hand resting flat against your neck, his thumb gently caressing your jawline, giving you every single opportunity to pull away if it was too much for you to handle. "We've been being so good for four weeks. I've been the most patient guy in the entire city. I've given you all the space you asked for. But sitting this close to you while you look at me like that... it's starting to feel like a literal torture method."
You stared up at him, your lips parted, your mind completely spinning as the sheer emotional depth of his gaze anchored you to the floor. The last lingering remnants of your past life, the anxiety of the old relationship, the fear of changing the rules of your friendship—it all completely dissolved into the warm, amber light of the room.
"I'm not looking at you like anything," you whispered desperately into the tiny space between your mouths, your eyes locked onto his.
"You are," Jungkook whispered back, his face leaning down just another fraction of an inch, his warm lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "You're looking at me the exact same way I've been looking at you for three long years. And if you don't tell me to go back to my side of the room right now... I am going to completely ruin our safe little boundary tonight."
You did not say a single word. You did not move away, and you did not pull your hand away from his chest.
Instead, your fingers tightened fiercely against the fabric of his tank top, your eyes closing as you slowly leaned your head forward, completely closing the final, agonizing distance between you.
When his lips finally met yours, it wasn't the tentative, careful question from the beach shoreline a month ago. It was a deep, slow, and completely possessive answer. Jungkook let out a low, ragged sigh against your mouth, his large arms finally moving to wrap securely around your waist. He lifted your body completely off the rug and pulled you directly into his lap, closing every single inch of distance between you.
He held you with a heavy, unhurried strength that felt entirely permanent, his mouth moving against yours with a breathless, deep intensity that completely erased the old lines of your friendship. His lips were warm, soft, and demanding, tasting faintly of mint and sweetness. Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers tangling into the soft, messy curls at the back of his neck, holding onto him as if he were the only solid thing left in the world.
…
The bedroom was completely quiet. There was no more running, no more cold masks, and no more walls between you. The air felt completely thick with a deep, breathless relief.
You were both still on the floor, right by the side of your unmade bed. Jungkook’s broad back was resting firmly against the edge of the mattress, his long legs spread wide to cradle your body completely inside his space. He had pulled you right onto his lap, your knees framing his hips, bringing your bodies so close that there wasn’t a single inch of empty space left between you. His massive, hands were wrapped tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with a steady, grounding pressure as if he was still terrified you might vanish into the dark night.
His mouth found yours again, and the kiss was entirely different from any clash you had ever shared before. It was deep, wet, and completely filled with an aching, desperate hunger that had been building up for a month. His tongue slid smoothly against yours, tasting the salt of your recent tears, while his hot breath fanned across your cheeks.
As the kiss deepened, Jungkook’s hips gave a slow, heavy tilt upward. The friction was instant. Even through the thick, rough denim of his jeans and the fabric of your clothes, the hard, solid length of his erection pressed firmly against your core. A soft, trembling gasp was pulled right from your throat, your fingers instantly digging into the fabric of his t-shirt.
He didn't speed up. He kept the movement slow, heavy, and incredibly deliberate, dry humping you right there on his lap. Every single time his hips rolled against yours, you could feel the throbbing size of his length pushing hard against your thighs. The friction was building a thick, heavy pool of heat between your legs, making your core clench desperately against the rough denim. He groaned deep in his chest, a low, vibrating sound that went straight down your spine. His mouth moved to your jawline, his lips sucking softly at your skin, leaving a wet trail down to your neck.
"You feel so fucking good, sweets," Jungkook panted darkly, his hot breath brushing against your ear. His large hands slid down from your waist, his palms cupping your ass tightly, lifting you slightly just to press your wet heat even harder against his hard jeans. "I’ve been going completely crazy for months. Do you know how hard it was to watch you walk past me every day and not pull you into a room?"
Your face flushed a deep, burning crimson. You were incredibly shy under his direct, raw words, but your body was completely betraying you, melting into his heavy heat. Your fingers slid up his chest, your palms mapping his muscles. You found yourself completely obsessed with the size of his biceps, your fingers squeezing the hard muscle as he lifted you. You stared down at his chest in the dim light, your breath catching at how massive and solid he felt beneath your hands.
Reaching out with a trembling finger, you playfully flicked his nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt.
Jungkook let out a sharp, ragged gasp, his eyes instantly darkening with a wild, teasing intensity. A dominant, beautiful smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, you want to play dirty now, princess?"
Before you could answer, his large hand slid up under your shirt, his rough, warm palms finding your bare skin. His thick fingers captured your nipple, giving it a firm, teasing pinch that sent a sharp, electric jolt of pure pleasure straight down to your thighs. You arched your back, a loud gasp escaping your lips as his thumb began to make tight, heavy circles over the sensitive peak.
You fired back, your fingers tugging at his shirt until you could reach his chest, your thumb and forefinger finding his nipple again, pinching it right back. You were both teasing each other's nipples, the friction and the light pain driving the mood into something incredibly wild, raw, and completely unaligned with the cold distance of the past.
Jungkook couldn't take the distance on the floor anymore. Without breaking the heavy, wet connection of your lips, his massive arms wrapped completely under your thighs and back. He stood up smoothly, lifting your weight as if you weighed nothing at all, and moved the both of you onto the soft mattress of your bed.
He laid you down gently onto the dark blankets, his heavy, muscular frame immediately hovering right over you. He looked down at your face. His eyes were completely dark, filled with a raw, serious vulnerability. Neither of you had ever seen each other completely naked before—every previous encounter had been sweet, and hidden. Tonight was real.
"Hey," Jungkook whispered, his voice incredibly soft, sexy, and deep as he stared directly into your eyes. He reached down, his thumb gently tracing your lower lip. "Look at me, princess. I want to do this right. I want to see every single inch of you. Can I continue? Tell me you want me inside you."
Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a wave of shyness washing over you at his intense focus, but you nodded your head softly, your fingers curling around his wrists. "Yes... Jungkook, please."
A soft, relieved sigh left his lips. He didn't waste another second. With slow, worshipful movements, he reached down and carefully pulled your shirt over your head, completely exposing your breasts to the warm air of the room. Jungkook froze for a long, heavy minute, his breath hitching completely in his throat. He stared at them in the dim light, his eyes completely blown out as he took in the soft, perfect shape of your chest.
"God, you are so beautiful," he growled darkly, his voice rough with an absolute, desperate hunger. He leaned down, his large, scarred hands cupping your breasts roughly, his thick fingers sinking into the soft flesh. He didn't bite brutally; he opened his mouth wide, licking and sucking your nipple deep into his mouth, his tongue making heavy, wet circles around the peak until you were crying out, your fingers twisting into his dark hair.
While he sucked your breast, your hands slid down his broad shoulders, your fingers mapping the thick lines of his back before you reached for the hem of his t-shirt. You pushed the fabric up, your eyes widening as he pulled it off, completely exposing his massive chest, his chiseled abs, and the powerful lines of his biceps. You were completely obsessed with his body, your palms sliding over his warm, tanned skin, feeling the heavy, rapid thumping of his heart beneath his ribs.
Jungkook reached down, his fingers unbuttoning your trousers and sliding them off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your small lace panties. He shifted his body down between your thighs, his knees forcing your legs wide apart. He looked down at your core, his breathing turning ragged.
His large, wrapped hand slid down, his palm resting right over the fabric of your panties. He began to rub his palm in slow, heavy circles over your pussy, flicking his fingers lightly against your hidden clit through the thin lace. He observed your face, watching your eyes flutter shut as you let out a high-pitched, needy whimper.
"Let me see it," Jungkook murmured, his voice a dirty, raw whisper against your thigh. "Can I take these off, sweets? Let me look at you."
You nodded weakly, your hands gripping the bedsheets as he carefully slid the lace panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor. Jungkook stayed on his knees, his dark eyes locking onto your exposed core. In the dim glow of the room, he observed your beautiful, pink-brownish flesh, his eyes tracing the delicate, wet lines of your pussy. You felt incredibly shy under his intense gaze, instinctively trying to close your thighs to hide yourself from him.
"Don't hide from me," he commanded softly, his large hands gripping your knees and gently pushing them wide open again. "You are so fucking perfect. Look how wet you already are for me."
Using his delicate, thick fingers, he reached down and lightly flicked through the thick, clear cream that you had already released through the intense dry humping. He didn't rush. He moved his fingertips slowly over your clit, spreading your own wet juices over the sensitive flesh, making a soft, wet sound that filled the quiet bedroom. He was being incredibly dirty, moving his finger tips in tight, heavy circulation right over your clit, applying a steady, intense pressure that made your hips violently jerk off the bed.
"Ah! Jungkook... it's too much," you cried out, your face flushing as a wave of intense, pre-climax pleasure shot through your lower body.
"It's not too much yet, sweets," he whispered darkly, leaning down until his lips were just millimeters from your wet flesh. He let out a low growl, his tongue darting out to lick right across your clit, tasting your sweet cream. He started giving you a slow, incredibly nice pussy licks, his tongue licking and sucking your sensitive flesh while his fingers slid deep inside your wet core, moving in and out in a perfect, heavy rhythm.
You were writhing under him, your mind completely shattered by the dirty things he was whispering against your thighs, your body melting into the mattress. The pleasure was so pure, so real, and entirely empty of the past.
You reached down, your trembling hands catching his broad shoulders, pulling him up. "Jungkook... please, I want to touch you. Let me hold it."
Jungkook’s eyes flashed with a wild, dark desire, when you suddenly confessed. He shifted his body up, sitting on his knees right over your face. He unbuttoned his jeans, his hands sliding the heavy denim down his long legs until he was completely undressed. Your breath caught completely in your throat. It was your very first time seeing his length completely bare. He was massive, thick, and completely rock-hard, a heavy bead of precum glistening at the very tip of his shaft.
"Hold it, baby," he panted, his voice dripping with a raw, dirty authority. "Take it."
Your hands were shaking as you reached out, your fingers wrapping around the thick, warm base of his length. He let out a deep groan as your skin touched his, his jaw clenching tightly. You leaned up slightly, your tongue darting out to softly lick the shaft, moving your lips along the thick veins. You took the head into your mouth, giving him a slow, deep blowjob, your lips tight around his size while your hand moved up and down the length.
Jungkook’s breathing went completely wild. He reached down, his large hands gently gripping your hair, and began to softly mouth fuck you, pushing his thick length deep into your throat in a steady, heavy rhythm. The wet sounds of your mouth fucking filling the space between your gasps for air.
He moved with a heavy, intense pace until his entire body went completely rigid. He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes looking down at your face, his voice a tight, strained rasp.
"Sweets... I'm close. Do you want me to come inside your mouth? Tell me."
You looked right into his wild, obsessed eyes, your heart completely melting at how real and vulnerable he looked. You nodded your head firmly, letting out a soft hum of agreement.
Jungkook let out a low, animalistic roar, pushing his thick length all the way back into your mouth to the very root. His body trembled violently as he released, pouring his thick, hot, and heavy cum right down your throat. You swallowed every single drop, your hands rubbing his thighs as his release pumped out against your tongue.
The moment he finished, he slowly pulled away, his breathing ragged. He didn't leave you alone for even a single second. Jungkook immediately pulled you back up into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around you as he gave you a sweet, tender aftercare for a full minute, kissing your lips, your forehead, and your wet cheeks, whispering how much he loved you into your skin.
But the night was far from over. The raw, unprotected heat between your bodies was still burning completely out of control.
Jungkook shifted your body, positioning you flat on your back once more. He crawled between your thighs, his thick, heavy length already semi-hard again, pressing right against the entrance of your wet pussy. He paused, his hands framing your hips, his eyes locking onto yours with a serious, deep focus.
Suddenly, with a playful, dominant smirk, his large hand came down, giving a loud, sharp slap right against your wet pussy flesh. The loud CLAP echoed through the room, making your eyes widen in pure, shocked arousal.
"You're so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered darkly, his thumb finding your clit to begin a heavy circulation through the thick juices. He positioned the thick head of his dick right at your opening. "Can I put it back in? Let me slide all the way inside you, sweets."
"Yes... please, Jungkook, put it in," you screamed out, your pride completely gone.
Jungkook gave a deep, slow push, his massive, unprotected dick sliding smoothly and deeply right into your tight, wet core, bottoming out completely to the absolute root. A loud, desperate scream tore from your throat, your fingers digging deep into his biceps as he began to push in and out of you, starting the real, unbroken rhythm of the night.
Every single thrust was slow, heavy, and completely bottoming out inside your tight, swollen core. The unprotected friction between your bodies felt entirely different—it was an overwhelming, melting heat that stripped away the last remaining doubts in your mind.
His large hands were locked firmly around your hips, his calloused thumbs digging into your skin to anchor you against the soft mattress. With every slow, deliberate push, the wet, squelching sound of his thick shaft sliding through your excess juices filled the quiet room. You lay beneath him with your legs spread wide, your head tossing back against the pillows as a high, breathless whimpering tore from your throat.
"Look at me, sweets," Jungkook panted, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that shook your chest. He leaned his heavy upper body down, his broad chest pressing flat against yours, trapping your smaller frame under his massive weight. "Don't close your eyes. Look at how much of my dick you're taking right now."
You forced your eyelids open, your vision slightly blurred by tears of pure, intense pleasure. In the dim amber light of the streetlamps, his dark eyes were completely fixed on yours. There was a raw, beautiful vulnerability in his gaze—an absolute surrender that perfectly mirrored your own. The pride that had kept you apart for months was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, aching dependency that you finally permitted yourself to feel.
"Jungkook... ah! It feels... so deep," you choked out, your fingers sliding up his damp, muscular arms, your palms completely obsessed with the thick, hard curve of his biceps. You squeezed the solid muscle tightly as he delivered a slow, crushing surge that hit your spot perfectly from the front.
"Because it is deep, baby. Fucking deep," he growled softly, a low, vibrating chuckle rumbling against your chest. He stopped moving for a split second, his thick length buried to the absolute root inside you, letting you feel the full, throbbing weight of his erection. His hand slid up from your hip, his long, scarred fingers wrapping roughly around your breast. His thumb flicked over your highly sensitive nipple, applying a firm, teasing pressure that made your internal walls instantly convulse around his shaft. "I want to be so deep inside you that you can't think about anyone or anything else. You're completely filled with me."
He began to move again, but this time, he altered his angle, his hips moving in a tight, heavy circulation. The rolling motion of his pelvis against your clit, combined with the deep, deep strokes of his dick, was completely lethal. A sharp, loud scream escaped your lips, your back arching violently off the mattress as the friction reached a boiling point.
Jungkook let out a ragged gasp, his own head dropping into the crook of your neck. He began to suck and bite at your collarbone, leaving light, wet marks while his lower body kept up the relentless, circulating rhythm. He reached his hand down between your thighs, his thick thumb finding your swollen, dripping clit through the thick white cream that was beginning to coat his groin. He began to make tight, heavy, fast circles against your clit, matching the speed of his thumbs to the deep, grinding thrusts of his hips.
The combination completely shattered your mind. You were drowning in the raw, dirty reality of his touch. You could feel his thick veins pulsing against your internal walls, every single millimeter of his size stretching you open, forcing your body to stay in a constant, crushing state of climax.
"Jungkook! Please... I'm going to come... ah!" you sobbed out, your hands moving to the back of his neck, your fingers twisting desperately into his damp, dark hair to pull him down for a deep, wet kiss.
"Come for me then, love," he muttered against your lips, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth to swallow your high, needy cries. "Clench around my dick. Let me feel how tight you get when you ruin yourself for me."
Your body completely gave in. A massive, violent orgasm tore through your entire lower body, your internal walls clenching around his thick shaft so tightly that Jungkook let out a loud, animalistic roar of pure agony. His thrusts became faster, heavier, and completely unforgiving for a few wild seconds, his chest slamming against yours as he chased his own release through your convulsions. But even in his desperation, his large hands remained gentle around your waist, keeping you grounded, keeping you safe against him.
He didn't pull out when your body finished trembling. He kept his cock buried deep inside you, his heavy breathing filling the quiet room as he waited for your internal pulses to slow down. He leaned down, kissing your forehead, your wet cheeks, and the tip of your nose, his touch filled with an unbelievable, heartbreaking sweetness that made your heart melt completely.
"You're so perfect, baby, So perfect," he whispered, his rough voice completely stripped of its usual dominant edge. He reached down, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of damp hair away from your face. "My beautiful, perfect girl. I'm never letting you go back to that cold past ever."
You leaned up, your lips softly pressing against his chiseled jawline, your heart completely full. "I don't want to go back, Jungkook. I just want to stay right here."
He let out a soft, beautiful laugh, his dark eyes shining with an absolute, devoted warmth. He slowly pulled his semi-hard length out of your core, a soft, wet sound echoing in the quiet room as your shared juices spilled onto his thighs. Jungkook didn't leave your side for a single second.
He immediately pulled you into his broad chest, his massive arms wrapping around your waist, pulling the thick blankets completely over both of your shoulders to shield you. As the quiet night settled over the small apartment, you rested your head against his heart, your fingers intertwined with his scarred hand, finally, completely free. "I love you sweets," he planked a kiss to your lips.
"I love you too."
...
[ Request your fic here🫶🏼]
a/n: fr enjoyed writing this one sm!! nd made me feel so much aww in a way i can’t even explain lol. tbh this is a trope i’ve never actually tried before, so i really wanted to experiment with it in a super detailed way. i def didn't want to rush anything or just jump straight into the plot just to force them to confess love for each other immediately. i really hope u guys love the slow build up & how it turned out! thank you for showing so much love for the teaser !!! layout ur thoughts in the comments pls <3 REBLOGS ARE ALSO APPRECIATED
Summary: Your life was perfect. You had the perfect fiance, the perfect house and the perfect ring on your finger. The only thing that wasn't perfect …. were the memories you lost years ago and the fact your parents won't talk about it.
Warnings: Memory Loss, Swearing, Blood Mention, Unprotected Sex, Mention Of Car Accident, Mention Of Drunk Driver. Will add as I go…
Your bedroom is full of mess and anxiety.
You’re standing in front of the full-length mirror, clutching three separate hangers to your chest. On the bed behind you, Leah is casually lounging across your bed, a glass of white wine balanced expertly on her knee as she watches you pace.
"Alright, let's break it down again," you say, your voice hitting a slightly frantic pitch. You hold up the first option. "The silk plum slip dress. Is it too 'I'm trying to be effortlessly sultry but I actually spent forty minutes using double-sided tape to make sure I don't flash someone’ ?"
"It’s gorgeous. What’s option two?" Leah sips her wine, her eyes tracking the fabric.
You drop the slip dress onto the bed and hold up the second hanger.
"The black wrap dress. Safe. Classic. But is it too casual? Like, am I dressed too casually for a nice dinner?" Before she can answer, you whip out the final hanger. "Or the strapless dress. It’s chic, but what if it slides down while we're walking? What if I have to spend the entire night hitching it up by the armpits in front of him?"
Leah lets out a soft laugh, setting her wine glass down on the nightstand. She rolls onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands as she looks at the mountain of discarded clothes surrounding you.
"Y/N, breathe," she says gently. "They're all stunning. Honestly, you could wear a burlap sack and Yoongi would probably look at you with stars in his eyes. Why are you so incredibly nervous? You were literally going to marry the guy at one point."
You freeze, the hangers heavy in your hands. You look at your reflection in the mirror…the slight flush on your cheeks, the anxious tension in your shoulders…and let out a long, shaky exhale.
"Yeah," you say softly, turning around to face her. "But Leah... I don't remember that."
Leah’s expression softens instantly, the teasing amusement melting out of her eyes.
"I have these fragments, right? I have the cave, and I have the river, and I have these bursts of adrenaline where my heart recognizes him before my brain does," you explain, gesturing vaguely to your chest. "But I don't have the day-to-day. I don't have the rhythm of us."
You drop the dresses onto the edge of the bed and sit down, burying your face in your hands for a second.
"When I was with Corbyn... I knew exactly how to dress for date night," you admit, your voice muffled. "Corbyn was predictable. If we went out, it was always the same three high-end steakhouses or that specific country club lounge. I knew the dress code. I knew he liked tailored, conservative, expensive-looking things that matched his aesthetic. It was like putting on a uniform. It was easy."
You lift your head, looking at Leah with wide eyes.
"I don't know how to dress for Yoongi. I don't know what his version of a real date looks like. Is he taking me to a hole-in-the-wall jazz club where I'll ruin the silk dress? Is he taking me somewhere incredibly fancy where the wrap dress looks lazy? He told me no chaotic campground and no friends screaming, but that's all I have to go on." You squeeze a handful of the strapless dress in your fist. "With Corbyn, I knew the rules. With Yoongi... I'm terrified I'm going to show up looking like a stranger to a man who knows every single detail of my soul."
Leah is quiet for a moment. She slides across the bed, covering your hand with her own and gently loosening your grip on the fabric.
"Hey," she says. "Look at me."
You look up.
"You just said it yourself. Corbyn wanted you to match an aesthetic." Leah points out, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "Yoongi doesn't have a dress code, Y/N. He never did. From everything you've told me... that man isn't looking at the clothes. He’s just wanting you to walk beside him."
She reaches over, grabs the plum silk slip dress, and presses it into your hands.
"Wear this one," Leah decides smoothly, giving your shoulder a playful nudge. "It’s bold. And according to a certain story about a dormroom... we already know Yoongi handles 'bold' very, very well."
"You're terrible." A breathless laugh finally breaks through your anxiety, the tight knot in your stomach loosening just a fraction.
"I'm efficient," Leah corrects, sliding off the bed and heading toward the door to give you space. "Now put it on, fix your hair, and stop overthinking it. Your heart already knows the rules for this one."
The plum silk slip dress feels smooth against your skin, but your hands are still trembling slightly as you apply a final swipe of lip gloss. Downstairs, the front door of Leah’s house echoes with three knocks.
Your stomach flips.
"I've got it!" Leah’s voice rings out from the living room.
You freeze at the top of the stairs, your fingers gripping the banister as you look down into the entryway. Through the banister railings, you watch Leah swing the front door open for Yoongi.
Yoongi is standing on the porch under the warm glow of the entryway light. He’s dressed in a crisp, black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled neatly up his forearms, dark pants, and clean leather shoes. His hair falls over his forehead in messy waves. He looks incredibly handsome.
Leah doesn't just greet him. She stops dead in her tracks.
Leah plants her hands on her hips, her eyes widening as she shamelessly locks her gaze onto his face, scanning him from head to toe with the intense scrutiny of a best friend.
The silence stretches for a beat too long.
Yoongi’s cool, unbothered posture visibly fractures under the weight of her stare. He awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his hand lifting to instinctively rub the back of his neck. He clears his throat, a faint pink flush creeping up his collarbone.
"Uh... hello," Yoongi says. "I'm Yoongi. I'm here to pick up…"
"Wow," Leah cuts him off. "You are nothing like Corbyn."
Yoongi freezes, his hand dropping from his neck. He blinks back at her, completely caught off guard by the blunt opening statement.
"I... apologize?" He says cautiously, unsure if it’s a compliment or not.
"Don't apologize, " Leah says. “Come on in."
You practically fly down the steps, the hem of the plum silk swishing against your shins as you break the heavy tension radiating through the entryway.
"Leah, knock it off!" You say, your voice a mix of a hiss and a breathless laugh. You step into the entryway, shooting your friend a pointed glare that screams please do not embarrass me.
Leah doesn't look even remotely guilty. She just raises her eyebrows, gives you a slow, appreciative nod that approves of the dress.
Yoongi’s eyes instantly snap to you the second your heels hit the hardwood floor. The awkward tension in his shoulders seems to melt, replaced by a quiet, sudden stillness as his gaze tracks down the silk, then back up to your face. For a fraction of a second, the rest of the room completely fades out. The intensity in his eyes makes your heart do that familiar, frantic flip. It's that automatic rush of adrenaline your brain still can't quite map out, but your chest recognizes perfectly.
Breaking the spell, Yoongi lets out a soft, slightly awkward laugh. He looks between you and Leah, a faint, amused smirk finally tugging at the corner of his lips as he lets the initial shock of the greeting roll off him.
"So..." Yoongi says, his voice low and raspy, sliding his hands comfortably into his pant pockets. "I'm nothing like Corbyn?"
"Not even a little bit," Leah answers smoothly before you can stop her.
"Leah!" You cut in quickly, a burning flush instantly spreading across your cheeks. You reach out and gently but firmly plant a hand on her shoulder, nudging her toward the kitchen. "That is more than enough for you. Goodbye, go back to your wine."
"What? I'm just surprised! I expected someone in an extremely fitted suit who looked like they were about to audit my taxes. I didn't expect..." She waves a hand vaguely at Yoongi…at the rolled-up sleeves and the silver rings on his fingers. "...this."
Yoongi lets out another low, quiet chuckle. The faint pink flush is still dusting his cheekbones, but his eyes are fixed entirely on you.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Yoongi says softly, He takes a slow step closer, his eyes tracing the line of the plum silk dress. "You look... beautiful, Y/N. Truly."
"Have fun, kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do…which leaves the floor wide open, honestly." Leah winks.
"Leah, I swear to God," you mutter.
"Don't worry. I'll have her back by a reasonable hour.” Yoongi smirks at you.
“Please don't,” Leah replies and disappears.
"She’s intense," Yoongi says softly, after she disappears. "She cares about you."
"Yeah, she does," you reply, though a genuine smile tugs at your lips as you smooth down the front of the plum silk. "I'm sorry about the Corbyn comments."
Yoongi lets out a low hum, taking a final step forward closing the distance between you. He brings one hand out of his pocket, and for a second, you think he’s going to touch your cheek. Instead, he reaches past you, his silver rings shining under the light as his fingers grab the handle of the front door.
He doesn't open it yet. He just stands there, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him.
"Don't apologize for her, and definitely don't apologize for him," Yoongi says. His eyes search yours, tracking the subtle tightness in your shoulders. "You're overthinking again. Stop."
"I am not," you lie.
"Y/N." He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "I know you better than you know yourself right now. Relax. There’s no test tonight."
He’s right.
Your brain doesn't remember your own nervous habits, but he does. It’s terrifying, but in the same breath, a massive wave of relief washes over you. Leah was right. There is no uniform. There are no rules to memorize.
"Okay. Fine. I'm a little nervous." You let out the breath you were holding, your shoulders finally dropping.
"Why?" He asks, his voice barely above a murmur. It isn't defensive. It’s genuinely curious. "You're wearing the perfect dress, your friend didn't physically assault me, and I promised no campgrounds. What’s making that head of yours spin?"
You look down at his silver rings still resting near the door handle, then back up into his dark eyes.
"Because it's our first date," you say softly.
Yoongi blinks, a brief flash of surprise crossing his features before a faint, knowing smile starts to touch the corners of his lips. He opens his mouth to speak…likely to remind you of some late-night diner or hidden memory your brain hasn't recovered yet…but you hold up a hand, cutting him off gently.
"Well..." You offer him a small, incredibly vulnerable smile, your voice dipping lower. "For me, it's our first date."
The quiet amusement melts off his face. The weight of your words hangs in the air between you, a reminder of the invisible gap left by your missing memories. You watch his throat move as he swallows.
Slowly, Yoongi drops his hand from the door handle. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he carefully reaches out and cups the side of your face, his palm warm and solid against your flushed cheek. His thumb brushes gently over your cheekbone, your body leans into it before your brain can even process the motion.
"Our first date," Yoongi repeats. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before locking back onto your eyes. "Okay. If it's a first date, then I need to properly make a good impression."
"You already look incredibly handsome, Yoongi," you tease breathlessly. "The impression is made."
"Good," he smirks, as his thumb gives your cheek one last, lingering caress before he steps back and fully opens the front door. "Then let's start from scratch."
Yoongi pulls into a parking spot near the town's river walk. The area is beautiful…a brick-lined pathway illuminated by fairy lights woven into the trees, stretching alongside the dark, shimmering water.
He leads you toward a small, upscale bistro right on the water's edge. The outdoor patio is shielded by glass panels, strings of warm bistro lights hanging overhead, and the soft sound of the river lapping against the stone walls below. As the hostess seats you at a candlelit table right by the railing, you look around in awe.
"Wow," you breathe, as you look out at the reflection of the lights dancing on the river. "Yoongi, this is incredible."
"Yeah?" He pulls out his chair and sits across from you. "You like it?"
"I love it," you say honestly. You open the menu, scanning the options. You look up at him through the candle glow. "I've never been here before. Have we... did you bring me here before the accident? Is this one of our old spots?"
Yoongi rests his forearms on the table, leaning in slightly. He shakes his head, a soft, incredibly tender look in his eyes.
"No," he says. "I've never been here either."
"Really? I just assumed...you would pick somewhere we've been before,” you tell him.
"Nah." Yoongi lets out a quiet, amused chuckle, his gaze drifting to the water before locking back onto yours. "I spent three hours looking up places when we got back home from camping. I wanted somewhere on the water, somewhere quiet, a place we didn't have history with."
He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours over the white tablecloth.
"You said it yourself back at the house, Y/N. For you, this is our first date," Yoongi says softly. "I didn't want to take you somewhere and expect you to chase ghosts or force yourself to remember a ghost of us. If we're starting from scratch... I wanted a place that belongs completely to the two of us tonight. No past versions of us. Just you and me, right now."
"Yoongi," you murmur, a breathless, radiant smile breaking across your face as you squeeze his fingers back. "You are really, really good at first dates."
"Told you. No test tonight. Now, let's figure out what we're eating." He smiles.
The waiter arrives a few minutes later. After taking your orders for the entrees, he gathers the heavy, leather-bound menus from your hands. With a polite nod, he disappears back into the warm glow of the indoor dining room.
Yoongi reaches for his glass, lifting it to take a sip. His eyes never leave yours over the rim. When he sets the glass back down, his fingers linger on the stem, turning it slightly.
"Y/N," he starts. "Can I ask you something? Something a little personal?"
“Of course.” You nod.
He nods slowly, but he doesn't speak right away. He looks down at the white tablecloth, seemingly gathering his words, before his gaze locks back onto yours.
"Jimin mentioned something to me awhile back," Yoongi says, his tone quiet. "He said... he didn't think you were as happy with Corbyn as everyone first assumed. Something about... no phones allowed. A rule or something."
He pauses.
You take a drink from your own glass and look away.
"Did you love him?" He asks softly. “Because that day at Jimin's studio when you first walked back into our lives… you couldn't answer that question.”
"At one point... I think I did," you say softly, turning your eyes back to meet his. You trace the rim of your glass with a fingertip, choosing your words with careful honesty. "Or at least, I loved the version of my life I thought I was supposed to want."
Yoongi doesn't move. He doesn't flinch or look away. He just listens.
"I don't want him to be made out to be a monster," you continue, your voice steadying. "He wasn't. I had … nothing after the accident. When Corbyn came along it was like suddenly I had plans and a boyfriend. Then…I had everyone telling me how perfect he was. My parents, Leah, and even my doctors were saying he was doing a perfect job with helping me. It was like ... everyone around me was building this life for me, and I just went along with it," you explain, your voice dropping to a near whisper.
“Before I knew it,” you sigh. “My life completely fit his. Shared calendar, boring wardrobe for dinners at the country club. I knew what to expect everyday.”
"And the phone rule?" Yoongi asks.
His eyes are fixed on yours, intense but completely devoid of judgment. He's just absorbing information, trying to understand the years he missed. Trying to understand this new life of yours.
"The no phones rule was no phones after 8:30 PM," you admit. "He told me it messes with my sleep cycle. With my brain recovery. He had all these articles printed out about blue light and neurological healing."
"Did it?" He asks softly, with a tilt of his head. "Did it actually help your sleep cycle?"
You take a slow breath, looking down at the white tablecloth. The memory of those quiet evenings in Corbyn's perfectly curated house flashes through your mind.
"I don't know," you say honestly, lifting your gaze to meet his. "I really don't know, Yoongi. I just know that after 8:30, I felt entirely cut off from the rest of the world. If I couldn't sleep, I just lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, wondering who I used to be before the accident. Why my parents would suddenly change the conversation when I would ask questions. I thought the suffocating feeling was just my trauma. I didn't realize it was the environment I was living in."
Yoongi’s expression softens, a deep, quiet understanding passing through his eyes. He doesn't launch into a speech about how controlling it was, and he doesn't trash Corbyn's name. Instead, he just reaches across the table again, his warm palm settling flat against the tablecloth, leaving it open for you.
"Well," Yoongi says. "Good thing it's past 8:30 PM right now."
You look down at his hand, then slide your fingers into his.
"So," you tease softly, squeezing his hand. "What are the rules for a Min Yoongi first date?"
"Rule number one." He smirks . "You use your phone whenever the hell you want. Rule number two... if you can't sleep, you call me. Doesn't matter if it's 2:00 AM or 4:00 AM. And rule number three..." He looks down at the plum silk dress, his eyes darkening. "You look perfect just like this.”
The waiter returns a moment later, carefully setting down two steaming plates between you. The rich, savory aroma of the food fills the space, effectively cutting through the heavy ghost of Corbyn's rules.
"To no rules," you say softly, lifting your water glass in a mini-toast.
"To living again." Yoongi says, clinking his glass against yours with a faint, genuine smile.
You step out of the patio and onto the brick-lined pathway. The night is gorgeous. Above you, strings of warm fairy lights are woven tightly into the overhanging branches, casting a soft glow over the pathway. To your right, the dark river stretches out, reflecting the shimmering lights of the town.
Yoongi falls into step beside you, his hands tucked loosely into his pockets as he matches his stride to yours. For a few minutes, neither of you speaks. It isn't an awkward silence. It’s the comfortable, quiet of two people simply enjoying each other's presence.
"You know," you say softly, as you look out over the water, "I was terrified I’d ruin this dress if we went somewhere chaotic. But this is perfect."
"Yeah? The dress survived?" Yoongi lets out a low chuckle, his head tilting toward you.
"Barely," you tease, looking over at him. "I had a whole crisis before you arrived. I was convinced I was going to show up looking completely wrong for whatever you had planned."
Yoongi stops walking. He turns his body toward you, leaning one hip casually against the stone railing that separates the path from the river.
"You’re not the only one," he says with a faint smirk.
"What do you mean?" You blink, turning to face him fully.
Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, a sudden faint pink flush creeping right back up his collarbone under the fairy lights. He looks down at his clean leather shoes, letting out a quiet laugh.
"I changed my shirt three times before I even left the house," he admits.
"You did?" You let out a soft gasp.
"Yeah," he says, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. "First I put on a jacket and tie, but then I thought, No, I'm trying too hard. So I took that off and tried a plain t-shirt under the jacket. Then I decided that looked like I didn't care enough."
He pauses, shaking his head at the memory.
"I finally settled on a completely different button-down," Yoongi continues. "And I was literally halfway out the door when Jimin video-called me. He didn't even say hello. He just stared at the screen, gave me this incredibly judgmental, funny look, and said, 'Are you seriously wearing that color to a first date?'"
"Oh my god. What color was it?" You laugh.
"It doesn't matter," Yoongi cuts in quickly, before he laughs along with you. "The point is, I ran back inside, tore it off, and put this black one on."
You step closer to him and place your hands on his chest.
"Yoongi," you say softly. "Were you actually nervous too?"
Yoongi’s smile softens. He takes one hand out of his pocket and reaches forward. He doesn't hold back this time. His fingers gently slide over yours, his silver rings cool against your skin as he intertwines his fingers with yours.
"Of course I was," he murmurs. "Y/N... it's our first date."
The brick path curves slightly, leading the two of you deeper into the quiet stretch of the river walk as you continue your walk. Your fingers stay tightly laced with Yoongi’s. Yoongi looks down at your hands, then glances up at the sky, a playful, soft smirk tugging at his lips.
"Well," he says, his voice a low, teasing rumble in the quiet night. "It’s officially getting late. I suppose I should get you home before you turn into a pumpkin."
You stop walking dead in your tracks.
Yoongi keeps going for half a step before the tension in your linked fingers pulls him back. He turns around, his dark eyes looking at you in confusion. Before he can ask, you step closer, letting go of his fingers only to wrap your hand firmly around his forearm. You hold onto him right there under the golden glow of the fairy lights.
"I don't want to go home," you say softly.
Yoongi’s playful expression falters. He looks down at your hand on his arm, then back up to your face.
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"Yoongi," you say, softly. "You know what I mean."
He doesn't answer right away. The playful, confident smirk he wore just a moment ago completely vanishes. Slowly, his arm shifts beneath your grip. He turns his hand, his long fingers sliding down to wrap firmly around your wrist, his thumb resting right over your racing pulse.
"Y/N," he murmurs. He takes a single step closer, closing the final inch of distance until the hem of your plum silk dress brushes against his pants. "Are you sure? Because if we go back to my place... if we cross that line tonight... "
"I am sure," you say. "I was sure that day in the RV and I'm sure now. I want to see what our rhythm feels like."
A quiet, breathless sound escapes his lips…halfway between a sigh and a laugh. The sheer relief and longing in his expression make your chest ache in the best way possible.
"Okay," Yoongi whispers. “Okay.”
His home feels different.
The last time you crossed his doorway, your chest had been tight with a mix of panic and betrayal. You had practically forced your way in, demanding answers about a life you couldn't remember. You had been hunting for the pieces of your past that he had hidden away. That night, the house had felt like a place you wanted to run from.
But tonight? Tonight, it looks softer.
Inviting.
Yoongi doesn't immediately move to rush the moment. Instead, he leans his back against the closed door, his hands still tucked loosely into his pockets. His gaze is entirely fixed on you.
"Still sure?" He asks.
"I'm sure," you say softly.
Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don't step toward him, and you don't reach out. You just hold his gaze, letting the absolute certainty in your tone speak for itself.
He lets out a slow, shaky exhale through his nose. A breath he looks like he’s been holding since you were standing on the brick pathway by the river. The corner of his mouth twitches upward, not with his usual teasing smirk, but with a tender smile that reaches all the way to his eyes.
"Okay," Yoongi murmurs.
Slowly, he takes his hands out of his pockets and steps away from the door, finally closing the distance between you. He moves slowly, as if any sudden movement might startle the fragile reality you’re both building. When he finally stops, he’s close enough that the warmth radiating from his chest bleeds through the thin silk of your dress. He doesn't touch you yet. He just hovers there, looking down at you, searching your face as if memorizing this brand-new starting point.
Slowly, Yoongi lifts his hands. His fingers are careful as they find the bare skin of your shoulders, his palms warm and solid. He doesn't pull you in immediately. Instead, his thumbs trace the delicate lines of your collarbones. Your eyes flutter shut for a split second, your head tilting back slightly as your body responds to his touch. When you open your eyes again, his gaze is fixed entirely on your mouth.
"I've missed you," he whispers. "God, Y/N, you have no idea how much."
He leans down, and then, there is no more distance. The kiss isn't a frantic, desperate collision. It is deep, heavy, and achingly slow that makes your knees feel suddenly weak. A quiet, breathless sigh escapes you, and the sound seems to undo something inside him.
Yoongi’s hands slide up from your shoulders, his long fingers tangling into the hair at the nape of your neck to cradle your head, holding you perfectly still against him. He shifts his weight, pressing closer until his chest flush against yours. Pulling back he looks down at you.
“Let's go find our rhythm again," he whispers.
The moonlight through his bedroom window painted everything in shades of silver. The dinner clothes are now slightly wrinkled. You are on his bed and his mouth was on yours in a kiss that was less about exploration and more about a desperate, searching recognition.
He pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm on your skin. His dark eyes search yours in the dim light.
“Tell me,” he murmurs. “What do you like now?”
The answer should have been simple.
The only map you had led back to Corbyn…to his careful, predictable touches, his considerate, passionless routine. The sex always seemed to be scheduled like everything else, leaving you feeling emptier than before. The shame of that admission still burns your cheeks.
“I… I don’t know,” you whisper. “The only… the only sex I know is…”
“Boring,” he finishes for you, making you nod.
“Show me,” you breathe, the words barely audible. “Show me what I liked before. With you.”
For a moment, he is perfectly still, looking down at you as if memorizing this moment, your plea. Then, a fierce, determined look floods his gaze. He pushes himself down the bed. His hands go to the waistband of your underwear, his fingers hooking under the lace. He doesn't ask, he doesn't take them down slowly. In one smooth motion, he pulls them down your legs and off, tossing the scrap of fabric aside into the shadows.
He doesn't give you time to feel self-conscious. With his hands firm on your thighs, he pushes your knees apart. He holds your gaze for one second,before he lowers his head and buries his face between your legs.
It isn't tentative.
It isn't polite.
It’s a deep stroke from your opening all the way up to your clit, that made you arch off the bed with a sharp cry. Your hands fly to his hair holding him to you.
This, your body tells you. You know this.
His mouth is relentless, his tongue circling, flicking, pressing in exactly the right ways, as if he has a map etched into his memory. As you are lost in the sensation of his tongue, you feel the pressure of a finger at your entrance, testing, before sliding deep inside you in one smooth, perfect thrust.
You sob his name.
He adds a second finger, curling them perfectly, finding a spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids, all while his mouth continues its devastating work on your clit. It’s too much.
It’s everything.
As you shatter, crying out into the moonlit room, your body clenches around his fingers, one thought goes through your head and it's completely clear.
It was never boring. With him, it was never, ever boring.
"You want me to show you what else you liked?" He asks as he presses kisses against your inner thighs.
You could tell him no. You could tell him that you want to stay in the present like you had all night. You can't though.
Not now.
Nodding your head, Yoongi sighs against your thigh and raises to his knees between your thighs. Reaching up, his fingers find the delicate straps of your dress and he carefully pulls them down your arms until he can fully pull the dress off you.
"With him," Yoongi begins. "It was a checklist, wasn't it? Something couples do." He doesn't wait for confirmation. His hands trail up your sides, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just below your ribs. His touch is re-memorizing you. "With me… you liked to be known. Not just touched. Known."
He leans forward bracing himself on one arm beside your head. You can feel the warmth of him as he hovers over you. He still didn't kiss you. His eyes searching yours.
"You liked to take your time. You hated rushing." A faint ghost of a smile touched his lips. "You'd get annoyed if I tried to hurry you along. You said…" He pauses. "You said, 'The best parts are in the in-between.'"
Slowly, he lowers his weight onto you. You feel the fabric of his pants against your bare legs, the cotton of his shirt against your breasts. He settles his hips into the cradle of yours, and you feel him hard through the fabric against your core.
A soft gasp escapes you.
"You liked this," he murmurs, his lips now close to your ear, his breath warm. "The friction. The promise of it. You'd roll your hips against me, just like this, for what felt like hours. Driving us both mad." To illustrate, he shifts, a slow, grinding rock of his pelvis against yours. The pressure, even through the layers, was amazing. His hands come up to frame your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones.
“And you loved to be looked at," he continues, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You just… you loved the feeling of my eyes on you. You'd watch me watching you, and you'd get this little smile." He searches your face now, as if looking for that smile. "Like you had a secret. Like you were the most fascinating thing in my world, and you knew it."
He began to move again, that same slow, torturous rock, a deep, rhythmic press that made your back arch slightly, seeking more. One of his hands drifts from your face, down the column of your throat, over the swell of your breast. He palmed you, his touch firm as his thumb circling your nipple. You let out a shaky breath.
"You were vocal," he says. "Not loud, not for the sake of being loud. You'd sigh. You'd whisper. You'd tell me what felt good. 'Right there,' you'd say. Or 'slower.' Or 'more.'" His hand left your breast, trailing down your stomach. "You never just lay there. You participated."
His fingers dips lower, but doesn't go straight to your core. His fingertips dance across your knee, the sensitive skin of your inner leg, learning you all over again.
You were trembling.
Finally, his fingers find you, wet and ready. He doesn't push inside. He simply strokes you, his eyes locked on yours, watching every flicker of reaction on your face.
"You liked this," he states softly. "The teasing. You'd get so wet, so impatient, but you loved the torture of it. You'd bite your lip, your eyes begging me, but you'd never rush me."
He was right.
You are biting your lip now, your hips making tiny circles against his hand. The pleasure was a slow, deep burn, so different from the fire he'd made with his mouth.
"Look at me," he breathes, and you do. "This is what you liked. The connection. The… conversation."
Ripping himself away from you, Yoongi sheds his clothes quickly before resuming his spot on top of you. Taking himself in his hand, he rubs the tip of his length along your opening several times. He pushes forward slowly, letting you feel every inch of him as he fills you. He's breathing heavily, his forehead pressed to yours, his body shaking slightly as he tries to stay still.
"You loved this moment most of all," he gasps. "The full feeling. You'd wrap your legs around me and just… hold me here."
You lick your lips, blinking up at him.
"Then," he whispers. "When you couldn't stand it anymore, you'd move. You'd set the pace."
You understand. This was your show. Your rediscovery. You tentatively rock your hips, a shallow, experimental movement. The friction was unbelievable. A low groan rumbles in his chest, encouraging you.
Feeling good about yourself, you do it again…and again. You find a rhythm, slow and deep, your bodies moving together. Your hands come up to his shoulders, before pulling him down for a kiss. You move together under the moonlight. It isn't dramatic and frenzied. There are sighs, whispered names, the soft slap of skin, the creak of the bed. You watch his face, the way his eyes closed in pleasure when you angled your hips.You watch the way his lips part when he slides in a bit deeper making you moan out.
The room grows thick with the scent of sweat and sex. The creak of the bedframe matching the wet sounds of your bodies joining again and again. His breath hitches against your mouth when you angled your hips higher.
"Just like that," he whispers.
Your legs tighten around his waist, heels urging him closer as the slow rhythm builds. The heat pools low in your belly and spreads outward in waves. His hand roams your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast before cupping it fully, rolling your nipple between his fingers until you arched and gasped his name.
You move together, skin sliding on skin, his lips finding yours in messy, open kisses. A low groan escapes him when your inner walls start to pulsate around him. That coil inside you winds tighter and tighter, threatening to come undone.
The rhythm shifts suddenly, his hips snapping harder against yours as the slow grind gives way to urgent, deeper thrusts that rocks you up the bed. Each powerful drive of his cock sent jolts of raw pleasure through your core. You gasp as you clench around his length while the wet slap of skin fills the room.
"You always liked this part the best," he rasps against your ear, voice straining with effort, his fingers tightening on your hip to hold you steady as he thrusts into you with growing intensity.
"What part?" You choke out and his dark eyes locked on yours.
"Falling apart around me." The admission sends a fresh wave through you, your walls pulsing tighter as he drives into you faster.
The words strike deep, unraveling the last threads of your control. Your body seizes around him with a choked sob, your core clenching in rhythmic, desperate pulses that milk his cock as the orgasm crashes through you. Pleasure floods every nerve, your thighs shaking against his hips, breasts heaving against his chest. Your fingers trail down his back as he follows with a deep groan, his hips stuttering as your inner walls pulsate around him. His grip on you tightens, holding you flush against him as he buries himself inside of you deeper. He doesn't let you go as the tremors slowly ease, leaving you both trembling in the moonlight of his room.
Reaching up, you brush his damp hair back from his forehead, and he settles his head against your chest. You stare up at the shadows of the tree branches dancing across the ceiling, your fingers absentmindedly combing through his hair. It was like they know what to do.
You know they did.
You had asked him to help you find your rhythm again.
As you lie there wrapped in his warmth, you think maybe he had.
Summary: Your life was perfect. You had the perfect fiance, the perfect house and the perfect ring on your finger. The only thing that wasn't perfect …. were the memories you lost years ago and the fact your parents won't talk about it.
Warnings: Memory Loss, Swearing, Blood Mention, Unprotected Sex, Mention Of Car Accident, Mention Of Drunk Driver. Will add as I go…
Edited for A/N: Tag List Update.
There are a quite a few accounts that I can't tag and because I have a overflow list going on in the comments. If i can't phycally tag you I will probably remove any accounts I can't properly tag. That way I can bump up account from the comment section.
The blinding flash of a camera pierces through the darkness behind your eyelids.
You flinch, burying your face deeper into the warm crook of Yoongi’s neck to escape the sudden intrusion. Beside you, the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest abruptly stutters. The broad hand resting between your shoulder blades twitches, his fingers tightening defensively against your back as his entire body transitions from dead sleep to alert irritation in a fraction of a second.
"Oh, look at them," a loud voice coos from the foot of the bed. "How adorable. Someone take another one!"
Click.
Another flash floods the small space.
"I am taking another one," Taehyung whispers back. "The lighting from the skylight is hitting Yoongi's cheekbone perfectly."
"Move your elbow, Tae, you're blocking the frame," Jungkook mutters. "Get the ring on her finger in the shot. Yeah, right there. Perfect."
Slowly, Yoongi exhales a long, shaky breath through his nose. He doesn't move his arm from around your waist, but his other hand reaches up, blindly grabbing the edge of the plush comforter and pulling it completely over both of your heads, plunging you back into darkness.
"If you don't delete those photos and leave this vehicle in three seconds," Yoongi’s muffled voice growls from beneath the blanket. "I am going to feed your phones to the raccoons."
From outside the blanket fortress, the sounds of shuffling feet and snickers suddenly come to a grinding halt.
"Raccoons are nocturnal. They won't even find them until tonight," Jungkook reasons in a loud whisper, clearly unmoved by the threat.
"I don't care about their sleep schedule, Jungkook. I will find them and I will train them," Yoongi mutters.
Before Taehyung can defend his artistic vision any further, the heavy screen door at the front of RV #3 creaks open, followed by a click of boots marching down the narrow carpeted aisle.
"Alright, that’s enough, clear out! Move it, paparazzi," Yura’s voice rings out. "Jin is already screaming that the crepe batter is setting and Namjoon is about to try flipping one himself. We have a crisis situation outside."
"But Yura, the cheekbone lighting…" Taehyung protests.
"Out, Tae. Take your telescope and your camera roll and go," she orders smoothly. You hear a soft thwack of what sounds like a rolled-up dish towel hitting an arm, followed by Jungkook’s startled yelp and the quick, frantic scramble of three pairs of sneakers fleeing toward the exit.
The main door of the RV slams shut, cutting off the distant, chaotic cheers of the campground and plunging the cabin back into its designated quiet status.
For a moment, the only sound is Yura’s soft sigh as she steps up to the edge of the bedroom. She stops just outside the heavy curtain.
"Hey," she says softly, tapping her knuckles twice against the wooden frame. "Breakfast is almost ready. I just wanted to make sure you slept okay."
Slowly, Yoongi reaches up and hooks a thumb under the edge of the comforter, pulling the heavy fabric back down. He blinks against the sudden brightness, his face still soft with sleep, but his arm stays firmly around your waist.
You shift against him, sliding your hands up his shoulders to prop yourself up on his chest. Resting your chin on your intertwined fingers, you look over the edge of the mattress and offer Yura a smile.
"I slept great," you say quietly.
Yura is leaning against the doorframe, the rolled-up dish towel still loosely gripped in her hand. The moment she sees you…propped up comfortably on Yoongi’s chest, your eyes clear and completely devoid of the phantom restlessness that had plagued you the night before. The lingering trace of worry completely melts from her expression. A soft, incredibly radiant smile spreads across her face.
"Yeah," Yura murmurs, her gaze sliding from your smile to the relaxed, unbothered way Yoongi's hand is resting on your hip. "I can see that. Your body definitely found its radar."
Yoongi lets out a low hum, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he keeps his eyes half-closed.
"Tell Jin to keep Namjoon at least five feet away from the stove, Yura. We're coming out, but I'm not eating a charred crepe," he says.
"I'll do my best, but Jungkook is already hovering like a vulture," Yura laughs, giving the wooden frame one last, affectionate tap. "Hurry up, you two. The circus is waiting."
With a final, teasing wink at you, she turns on her heel and marches back down the narrow aisle, the screen door clicking shut behind her. You look down at Yoongi, a breathless laugh escaping you as you lightly poke his chest.
"You heard her. The food is in danger." You smile at him.
"Let them fight for it," Yoongi mutters. He reaches up, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his thumb lightly stroking your jawline. "We have at least five more minutes before they start throwing things at the door."
You look down at him, the soft morning light catching the stray strands of his messy hair. A sudden wave of gratitude washes over you, entirely replacing the last lingering traces of the anxiety that had threatened to pull you apart yesterday.
"Yoongi," you say softly.
"Hm?" He doesn't open his eyes.
"Thank you." You lean down a fraction, your chest pressing closer to his. "For letting me stay here last night. For not making me feel weird about... not being able to sleep over there."
"You don't ever have to thank me for that, Y/N," he says. He shifts his hand from the back of your neck, his fingers sliding up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "This is your space. It’s always been your space. Even when you couldn't remember it, the spot…right here..." He taps his chest lightly with his index finger. "...was always saved for you."
Then, right on cue, the universe remembers exactly who you are traveling with.
THUD.
A heavy, hollow sound vibrates through the outer wall of the RV, followed immediately by a sharp, metallic ping against the glass of the side window.
"YOONGI! Y/N! THE FIRST CREPE HAS BEEN SACRIFICED TO THE GOD OF ASHES!" Jungkook’s muffled voice roars from the gravel outside. "JIN IS CRYING! NAMJOON IS APOLOGIZING! REFORCEMENTS ARE REQUIRED!"
THWACK.
Another projectile…this one sounding suspiciously soft, like a pinecone or perhaps a tightly rolled pair of socks…strikes the screen door with a dull thud.
"If you don't come out in thirty seconds, I am sending Taehyung back in with a speaker!" Jimin warns loudly from outside. "And he’s threatening to play his early morning jazz playlist at full volume!"
Yoongi doesn't move. He doesn't even open his eyes. He simply lets out a long, deeply suffering sigh. His grip around your waist tightens, anchoring you flat against him as if he could physically shield the both of you from the impending acoustic assault.
"Ignore them," he mutters. "If we don't move, they'll assume the raccoons took us."
"I think the raccoons are on their side, Yoongi," you laugh quietly. You prop yourself back up on your elbows, looking down at his closed eyelids. "And honestly, I don't want to risk Taehyung's jazz playlist before I've had coffee."
"It’s not jazz, it’s avant-garde saxophone noise," he clarifies grimly, finally opening one eye to glare lazily at the ceiling. "There is no melody. It’s torture."
BANG BANG BANG.
This time, someone beats a chaotic rhythm directly against the side panel of RV #3.
"RISE AND SHINE, LOVEBIRDS! THE CAMPFIRE IS ROARING! THE BIRDS ARE SINGING! JIN’S DIGNITY IS CRUMBLING!" Hobi calls out.
Yoongi’s jaw tightens. He rolls his head to the side, looking toward the small nightstand where his reading glasses and his phone are resting.
"That's it," he says, his voice flat and entirely serious.
He detaches his arm from your waist, reaching over to grab his phone. His fingers fly across the screen. A second later, a loud, high-pitched ding echoes from the campground outside.
"HE’S ON THE WARPATH! SCATTER!" Someone yells from outside.
It's followed by frantic, chaotic crunching of three pairs of sneakers sprinting away from the vehicle. You blink, looking from the window back down to Yoongi, who is already tossing his phone back onto the mattress with a deeply satisfied expression.
"What did you text them?" You ask, a grin already tugging at your lips.
Yoongi settles back into the pillows, pulling the heavy comforter right back up to his chin with a slow, smug blink.
"I told them that if they hit the side panel one more time, I’m changing the Wi-Fi password on the RV router, and I’m deleting the gaming drive." He closes his eyes again, a tiny, content smirk gracing his lips. "We now have exactly four minutes of total peace before Jin marches over here himself. Use them wisely."
"Look at the size of this one! Babe, look!" Jungkook exclaims.
A quiet lull settles over the group. The only sound is the gentle lapping of the lake against the shore and the occasional, frustrated sigh from Jin. The silence is shattered by Jungkook, who comes splashing through the shallow water. He’s dripping lake water all over the pebbles as he thrusts a plastic bucket forward to show off his latest catch.
Yura, who is sprawled out on a picnic blanket with you and Taehyung, pretends to be surprised. "Oh, wow, Kook! That’s huge! You're basically a professional provider at this point." She smiles and looks at you. Jungkook beams, his chest puffing out so hard he nearly loses his balance on a slippery rock.
"I told you! I'm catching dinner. Yoongi, are you seeing this?" He calls out, looking for validation from the master.
"Great job. Go put it in the cooler before you lose it." Yoongi doesn't even turn his head from where he's sitting on his own bucket. He just raises one hand from his fishing rod, offering a lazy, blind thumbs-up in Jungkook’s direction.
"Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable," a voice mutters from a few yards down the bank.
Jin is standing rigid as he glares at the water. He re-baits his hook for what feels like the tenth time in twenty minutes.
"The fish in this lake have no taste," Jin announces loudly to the open water, tossing his line back out with a sharp, aggressive flick of his wrist. "I am using premium bait. I am presenting it beautifully. It is a Michelin-star presentation, and I am being ignored!"
"Careful, don't yell at them," Namjoon calls out.”You'll scare them away.”
Namjoon is seated on a smooth boulder a safe distance away, though safe might not be the best term. His focus is entirely split between the horizon and a book balanced on his knee, a dangerous combination. Just as he turns a page, a sudden tug on his line yanks the tip of his fishing rod violently toward the water.
"Whoa…!"
Namjoon lunges forward, his book tumbling into the dirt as he catches the handle of the rod. It’s the second time in the last half-hour the lake has nearly claimed his gear, and his frantic, wide-eyed scramble sets off a ripple of laughter down the shoreline. Yoongi just shakes his head, a fond, silent laugh bouncing his shoulders as Namjoon awkwardly rights himself, pushing his hair back and pretending like he hadn't just wrestled a fishing pole.
Up the slope, away from the shoreline, a much more domestic rhythm is playing out around the remains of the campsite. The clatter of tin plates being stacked serves as a steady backdrop to Hobi and Jimin’s cleaning routine. Hobi is wiping down the heavy wooden picnic table with a damp cloth, humming a cheerful melody that is thankfully not Taehyung’s avant-garde saxophone jazz.
Jimin moves right behind him, carrying the dried skillets and coffee pots back toward the RV. He pauses at the edge of the campsite, balancing a stack of clean bowls against his hip as he watches the chaos down by the water.
"If Joon drops that rod in the water I'm not getting it," Jimin calls out, laughing as he flashes a smile toward the shore.
"Leave it," Yoongi’s gravelly voice drifts up the bank, his eyes still fixed on his undisturbed bobber. "If the lake wants the rod, the lake can have it."
You trace your fingers along the edge of the blanket, your eyes wandering away from the guys and up toward the steep, rocky ridge that rises just beyond the tree line. The sun hits the cliff face, casting shadows into the crevices.
"Hey..." you murmur, your voice breaking the comfortable silence on the blanket.
"Hm? What's up?" Yura blinks her eyes open, tilting her head to look at you.
"Isn't there..." You squint at the ridge. The words feel like they're being pulled out of you. "Isn't there a cave around here? Somewhere up past those birch trees... I think I remember a cave."
Taehyung, who was cleaning his camera lens, freezes. The lens cloth in his hand drops directly into his lap. His eyes snap up to meet yours, widening to the size of saucers as a look of pure excitement floods his face.
"The Quartz Cave," Taehyung breathes, his deep voice instantly rising in pitch. "Y/N! You remember the cave?!"
"I... I think so?" You stammer, caught off guard by his sudden burst of energy. "We found it when it rained once, right? There were these smooth, purple stones in the back…"
"YES!" Taehyung shrieks and leaps to his feet.
Down by the water, Yoongi’s head snaps up, his sharp eyes instantly locking onto the blanket. Jungkook loses his grip on his fishing reel, turning around with a look of intense curiosity.
But Taehyung isn't waiting for the rest of the group. Before you can even stand up on your own, he lunges forward and grabs your hand. His grip is warm, tight, and bursting with wild enthusiasm.
"We have to go right now before the sun shifts!" Taehyung declares, a boxy, radiant smile overtaking his entire face. "Yura, bring the flashlight! The family treasure is waiting!"
"Wait…Tae, hold on! The rocks are steep!" Yura yells, scrambling up from the blanket and quickly snatching Taehyung's flashlight from the picnic basket.
With a joyful, ringing laugh, Taehyung takes off running, practically pulling you along with him toward the tree line. Your boots crunch loudly against the pine needles, a breathless, genuine laugh tearing from your own throat as you try to keep up with his sudden, chaotic sprint.
"Yoongi!" Yura shouts over her shoulder as she bolts after you two, her boots pounding against the earth. "We're going to the ridge! We'll be right back!"
"Hey! Don't run on the rocks!" Yoongi’s voice booms across the water, but it’s already growing distant.
You glance back for a split second and see him tossing his fishing rod completely into the grass, already getting up from his bucket to follow. Taehyung pulls you into the cool shadow of the birch trees, his grip on your hand unwavering as he guides you up a hidden trail you didn't even know you knew. Your feet move automatically, stepping over roots and rocks with a strange memory.
"It's just up here!" Taehyung calls out, his dark hair bouncing as he looks back at you, his eyes sparkling with pure happiness. "You’re doing great, Y/N!"
Taehyung is practically a blur of oversized flannel and pure adrenaline ahead of you. He scrambles up a steep incline of loose gravel, his boots slipping for a fraction of a second before he plants his foot firmly on a flat boulder and hoists you up behind him with a triumphant, dramatic grunt.
"See? Right where we left it!" Taehyung gasps, breathless but grinning from ear to ear as he gestures toward the face of the ridge.
Tucked neatly behind a dense curtain of overgrown ferns and a cluster of silver birch trees is a narrow opening in the limestone. It looks like nothing from a distance, but as you step closer, the opening widens into a natural archway.
"Oh, thank god, nobody broke an ankle," Yura pants, catching up to you both and leaning heavily against a tree to catch her breath. She holds up the heavy flashlight, clicking it on. "If Yoongi had to carry either of you down this ridge, he would have actually fed us to the raccoons."
"He wouldn't dare. I'm his favorite," Taehyung scoffs playfully, though he eagerly snatches the flashlight from Yura’s hand anyway. He aims the beam into the dark mouth of the cave. "Y/N first, since her brain did the magic trick today."
You take a tentative step forward, brushing past the wet ferns. The cave isn't massive…it’s cozy, but the moment Taehyung sweeps the flashlight beam across the walls, the entire space comes alive.
"Whoa," you breathe, the sound echoing softly against the rock.
Embedded deep within the limestone are veins of raw, jagged quartz crystals. Under the glare of the flashlight, the walls fracture the light into a thousand shimmering points.
"It's exactly how it was," Taehyung whispers, his voice dropping into a quiet awe.
He steps up beside you, carefully aiming the light at a small, flat ledge near the back of the chamber. There, sitting undisturbed in a neat, tiny row, are three smooth, polished purple stones.
You reach out, letting your fingertips slide across the cool, damp face of the limestone. The texture is a stark contrast of gritty stone and the sharp raw quartz. As your hand glides over the crystal, the violet reflections dance across your palms, and the final piece of the memory locks solidly into place.
"I absolutely remember this," you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You turn to Taehyung and Yura, a breathless, triumphant laugh bubbling up from your chest. "The two of you dragged me out for a hike because Tae wanted to try capturing the sunset mist through the upper canopy."
"Oh, don't remind me. I was wearing my brand-new hiking boots and we hadn't even gone half a mile before the sky completely opened up." Yura lets out a dramatic groan, though her eyes are incredibly bright.
"I don't think I've ever seen it rain that hard before," you continue, turning back to the small ledge where the three purple stones rest. You gently tap the middle one with your index finger. "The trail turned into a mudslide in five minutes flat. We scrambled up this ridge blindly, practically fell through the ferns, and took shelter right here."
"We were here for forever," Taehyung chimes in, his boxy grin returning at full force as he shines the flashlight closer to the floor, illuminating the exact spot where you had all huddled. "The storm lasted three hours, but we completely lost track of time. We played twenty questions, we tried to map out constellations in the quartz, and then we found those stones and polished them with our shirts until the rain stopped."
"And meanwhile," Yura laughs, shaking her head as she leans back against the cave entrance. "The boys down at the campsite thought we had been swept into the lake."
"Oh, god," you chuckle and nod. The memory resurfacing clearly. "Yoongi and Jungkook were so mad by the time we finally hiked back down. Jungkook was pacing the shoreline with a life vest already strapped on, and Yoongi was standing by the trucks frantically trying to call us on our phones."
"He didn't speak to me for two whole days after he screamed at me for an hour," Taehyung recalls.
“He made you cry.” You nod.
"I did not scream for an hour," a low, gravelly voice cuts through the quiet of the cave.
You turn your head toward the narrow mouth of the cave. Yoongi is standing in the opening. He’s slightly out of breath from the steep climb up the ridge, a few stray pine needles clinging to the shoulder of his black sweatshirt, and his dark hair is slightly damp from sweat. He doesn't look angry now…not even close. His sharp eyes instantly find yours, scanning your face and taking in the absolute clarity and joy written across your features.
"It was forty-five minutes," Yoongi clarifies, stepping fully inside. He rubs the back of his head, his gaze dropping to the smooth stone floor for a brief second before he looks back up at Taehyung. "And I didn't mean to make you cry, Tae. I... I still feel bad about that."
Taehyung gasped theatrically, clutching his chest with his free hand while still holding the flashlight perfectly steady with the other.
"Hear that, Yura?! Yoongi just apologized for an incident that happened years ago! Quick, take out your phone and film it!" He exclaims.
"Don't push your luck, Kim Taehyung," Yoongi mutters, though there’s zero bite in his voice. Instead, a quiet, incredibly soft smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he steps deeper into the cave, his boots clicking quietly against the stone.
He stops right beside you, the protective tension entirely draining from his shoulders. Without a word, he reaches out, his warm hand gently sliding over yours where it rests against the limestone wall. His fingers weave through yours, squeezing tightly.
"I was terrified," Yoongi says softly. His eyes scan the sparkling quartz ceiling before settling back onto your face. "The sky went completely black, the radio was warning about flash floods, and you three weren't answering your phones. By the time you walked back into camp laughing and covered in mud... I think my heart had stopped beating about an hour before that."
"I know," you say softly as you squeeze his fingers back. "We were so caught up in the adventure, we didn't even realize what it looked like from the outside. I'm sorry we put you through that, Yoongi."
You slide your hand out of his grip and wrap your arms completely around his waist. Your chest presses flat against his, locking you against him.
"I was so scared I lost you that night," he says, his hand rising to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as if to physically hold you in the present. He lets out a ragged, trembling breath, his chin resting heavily against your crown. "But... that Yoongi doesn't even know what it truly means to lose you."
He pauses, his grip tightening just a fraction more, his voice thick with the raw truth of the past few years.
"That Yoongi was just dramatic when he knew you were probably safe with Tae. He didn't know what it felt like to look into your eyes and realize you didn't know who I was. He didn't know what it was to walk into that hospital to find you missing." He swallows hard, his chest heaving against yours.
"She's not missing anymore," Taehyung tells him. "She’s right here. She found her way back to the cave. She remembered the purple stones. The fog didn't win, Yoongi."
Yoongi lets out a long, shuddering breath against your temple. He doesn't look at Taehyung, but the tension in his jaw relaxes.
"I know," Yoongi murmurs. He finally pulls back just enough to look down into your face, his dark eyes scanning the slight clarity in your eyes. "I know she's here."
The sound of Jungkook’s booming, victorious cackle bounces off the siding of the RVs as a stray spray of cold lake water and microscopic fish scales lands squarely across the front of your shirt.
"JUNGKOOK!" Yura shrieks, her voice hitting a register that could shatter glass. She had taken the brunt of the assault directly down her left arm. "You are disgusting! I swear to God, I am sleeping in RV #2 tonight and you can cuddle with the cooler!"
"It's a bonding experience, babe! The river god demands a sacrifice!" Jungkook howls, as he pumps the plastic spray nozzle again.
"Run!" You gasp, grabbing Yura’s clean hand and bolting up the slight incline away from the picnic tables.
Behind you, the outdoor cleaning station is a scene of absolute, domestic anarchy. Jin is standing triumphantly over a cutting board, despite the fact that the fish he's currently prepping is barely four inches long.
"Look at the scales on this specimen!" Jin shouts to no one in particular, waving his scaling knife in the air. "The proportions! The symmetry! Jungkook’s fish may be larger, but mine has the soul of a gourmet entrée! Yoongi, tell them!"
"Your fish looks like bait. If you cut it any thinner, it’s going to evaporate." Yoongi, who is meticulously filleting a much larger fish with precision, doesn't even look up.
"Min Yoongi! Respect the chef!" Jin exclaims.
You and Yura collapse onto the steps of RV #3 where Taehyung is on the roof taking pictures of everyone, both of you breathless and wiping stray droplets of questionable lake water from your skin with the collar of your shirts.
"If he thinks he's getting a hug today, he is sorely mistaken," Yura pants, gesturing fiercely toward Jungkook, who is now being put in a headlock by Jin for trying to steal a piece of lemon. She looks over at you, her irritation instantly dissolving into a bright, easy grin. "You okay? No fish gunk in the hair?"
"I think I survived," you laugh, checking your sleeves. "But I can't say the same for your husband. I think Jin is about to use him as bait."
"Good. Let the lake have him." Yura smiles.
Right on cue, Hobi marches over from the fire pit, holding a massive wooden salad bowl like a shield and wearing a pair of bright yellow dishgloves that look entirely too pristine for a campground.
"Victory!" Hobi announces, setting the bowl down on the picnic table with a dramatic flourish. "The greens are washed. The dressing is mixed."
"Is the Chef done boasting about his minnow?" Jimin calls out, strolling over with a stack of clean burlap place mats. He glances down at Jin’s cutting board and lets out a soft, melodic giggle. "Oh, Jin. It’s... cute. It looks like a snack for a bird."
"It is a delicacy!" Jin shouts, though his shoulders are shaking with his own squeaky, windshield-wiper laugh. "You will all beg for a bite of my five star minnow!"
While the chaotic banter swirls around the picnic tables, Yoongi quietly steps away from the cleaning station. He wipes his hands clean, his black sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the pale skin of his forearms. He doesn't join the loud debate about the fish. Instead, his eyes instantly track across the lot until they land on you, sitting on the RV steps.
The lazy, content smirk from this morning is back, softening the sharp lines of his face as he walks over.
"You smell like lake," he notes as you stand up.
"Blame your friend," you say. "He targeted us."
"I saw." Yoongi reaches out, his thumb catching a small stray drop of river water right below your collarbone, his skin warm against yours.
Yoongi shifts closer, his hip resting against the railing of the steps. He doesn't mind the faint scent of the river on you. In fact, he pulls you just a bit closer by your waist.
"The cave didn't tire you out too much, did it?" He asks softly.
"No," you say honestly, your heart swelling as you look past his shoulder toward the distant rocky ridge. "Honestly, Yoongi... I feel lighter. Like a missing piece just slid right into place."
Yoongi doesn't say anything for a moment. He just looks at you, before he leans down and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
"Good," he murmurs, pulling away just a bit. "Keep it there."
The smell of searing garlic and fresh lemon juice suddenly hits the afternoon air, drifting over from where Jin is finally laying his delicacy into a sizzling cast-iron skillet. The violent hiss of the hot oil sets off another round of cheers from Jungkook, who is currently trying to document the entire process on his phone while Jin aggressively bats his hands away with a wooden spatula.
"Back! Back, you paparazzi!" Jin yells, though he can't hide the wide, proud grin splitting his face. "This is a precise culinary art! One wrong angle from your camera and the minnow is ruined!"
Yoongi lets out a soft, amused huff against your hair, his chin resting gently on the top of your head as you both watch the spectacle from the safety of the RV steps. His arms are wrapped securely around your waist, holding you flush against his chest.
"He's going to talk about that four-inch fish for the next three months," Yoongi mutters. "We're never going to hear the end of it. It’ll be a legendary whale by the time we get back home."
"Let him have his moment," you laugh softly. "He fought hard for that fish today."
Up on the roof of RV #3, a familiar camera shutter clicks.
You look up to see Taehyung dangling his legs over the edge of the roof, his oversized flannel catching the gentle breeze. He lowers his camera, a massive smile stretching across his face as he looks down at the two of you.
"Perfect," Taehyung calls out, his deep voice carrying smoothly over the campground. “You two look like a poster for a romantic wilderness movie. Don't move! I’m changing the lens."
"If I see a single flash, Taehyung, I am climbing up there and taking your memory card," Yoongi warns, though he doesn't actually loosen his grip around you. If anything, he pulls you a fraction closer.
"No flashes! Only natural, cinematic lighting!" Taehyung promises, already adjusting the dials on his camera.
"Food is served! Gather around, people! If you don't get a seat in the next ten seconds, Namjoon is in charge of portioning the salad, and we all know how that ends!" Jimin calls.
"Hey! I am a very fair portioner!" Namjoon protests, though he carefully sets a massive stack of paper plates onto the picnic table with extreme, slow-motion caution, as if terrified the wind might cause a catastrophic event.
The group sits around the picnic tables. Yura sits down next to Jungkook, still shooting him a lingering, playful glare, but she doesn't object when he proudly slides the largest, perfectly grilled fillet onto her plate first.
"For the professional provider's wife," Jungkook says with a smug grin, dodging the playful swat she aims at his shoulder.
Yoongi gently guides you down the steps, his hand sliding down to catch yours, his fingers weaving effortlessly between your own. As you both walk over to the edge of the picnic table, the guys instantly shift, creating a space for the two of you right in the center of the warmth.
Jin proudly plates his tiny, perfectly browned minnow right in the middle of a massive serving platter, surrounded by lemons.
"Behold," he announces, gesturing dramatically. "The piece de resistance."
"I claim the tail!" Jimin giggles.
"Do not touch the art, Park Jimin!" Jin scolds.
You sit down on the bench, the wooden planks cool beneath you, but the atmosphere is warm.
You look around the table…at Yura and Jungkook bickering over the lemon wedges, at Hobi trying to teach Namjoon a specific way to fold a burlap placemat, at Taehyung showing Jimin the photos on his camera screen while Jimin throws his head back in laughter.
Then, you look to your side.
Yoongi is already looking at you. He has a quiet, unbothered plate of food in front of him, but his attention is entirely focused on your face. Without a word, he reaches under the table, finding your knee and letting his warm hand rest there, his thumb sweeping a slow, comforting arc across your skin.
"You're smiling," he notes softly, his voice private and quiet beneath the loud banter of the rest of the table.
"I am," you whisper, leaning in just enough so your shoulder brushes his. "I'm just... really happy I remembered, Yoongi."
Yoongi’s thumb pauses its movement for a split second, his grip tightening with a deep, emotional weight before he relaxes back into his easy, content posture. A tiny, incredibly beautiful smile touches his lips.
"I told you," he murmurs, his eyes locked onto yours with absolute certainty. "The spot was always saved. Your brain just had to catch up to where your heart already was."
"YOONGI! ARE YOU EATING THAT PIECE OF BREAD OR ARE YOU JUST STARING AT Y/N?" Jungkook’s voice suddenly booms from across the table.
"Jungkook." Yoongi’s expression instantly shifts into a flat, deadpan glare as he looks across the table at the youngest.
"Yes?" Jungkook blinks at him.
"I am going to change the Wi-Fi password right now." Yoongi warns.
"NO! I APOLOGIZE! IT WAS A COMPLIMENT! YOU LOOK VERY POETIC!" Jungkook exclaims, nearly dropping his fork as the rest of the table erupts into a chorus of chaotic laughter.
You lean your head against Yoongi’s shoulder, a small smile breaking out across your face as the afternoon settles fully over the camp, filling the woods with the brightest, warmest light you’ve ever known.
The announcement of an actual, proper hike after lunch is met with a collective burst of enthusiasm that you simply do not share.
"The upper ridge trail has the best vantage point for the afternoon sun," Namjoon explains, enthusiastically pointing a fork toward the steep incline beyond the tree line. "If we hit the summit by four, the shadows across the valley will be perfect."
"Yes! More cinematic lighting!" Taehyung cheers, already slinging his camera strap over his shoulder.
As the group begins a chaotic scramble to lace up hiking boots, pack water bottles, and argue over who has to carry the heavy backpack, you feel a heavy, comfortable lethargy settling deep into your limbs. The emotional breakthrough at the Quartz Cave, combined with a stomach full of fresh fish and the warm afternoon sun, has left you completely drained in the best possible way. The thought of walking another rocky incline makes your muscles ache in protest.
You slip your hand into Yoongi’s under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Hey," you murmur, leaning close so only he can hear. "I think I’m going to sit this one out."
Yoongi turns his head, his sharp eyes instantly scanning your face. He catches the faint, sleepy shadow beneath your eyes and the relaxed, heavy slope of your shoulders. A look of instant understanding softens his features. He doesn't question it, nor does he try to coax you into joining. He simply nods, his thumb rubbing a reassuring circle into the back of your hand.
"Alright," he says softly.
You look across the table, clearing your throat slightly to catch the attention of the whirlwind. "Hey, guys? You go ahead without me. I’m just going to stay back and rest at the camp for a bit." You nod.
The chaotic chatter instantly grinds to a halt.
"Oh, no, are you feeling okay?" Yura asks immediately. She sets down the water bottle she was filling and steps toward you. "Is your head hurting? Do you feel dizzy at all?"
"No, no, nothing like that," you assure her quickly, offering a reassuring smile to ease her worry. "I promise. I’m just really tired. My brain used up all its battery power finding that cave earlier. I just want to sit in the shade and do absolutely nothing," you say.
Yura studies your face for a second, checking for any hidden distress, before she lets out a soft, understanding sigh.
"Okay. Honestly, that makes total sense. You've had a massive day." She wipes her hands on her jeans and takes a step closer to the RV. "Tell you what, I'll stay back with you. Kook can go with the guys, and you and I can just lounge by the fire pit and watch a movie."
"No, Yura, go," Yoongi tells her. He rises from the bench, his hands sliding casually into the pockets of his black hoodie. "I'm staying behind."
Yura pauses, her eyes shifting from you to Yoongi.
For a silent, heavy moment, the two of them just look at each other. There is an entire, unspoken language passing between them. Slowly, a soft, knowing smile touches her lips. She nods.
"Alright," Yura agrees softly, stepping back toward Jungkook, who naturally loops an arm around her waist. "He’s a better pillow than me anyway. If want a snack, the cooler is locked so the raccoons don't get into the melon. We're going to take the smaller one."
"I know how to work the cooler, Yura," Yoongi mutters.
"Just making sure!" She laughs, turning to the rest of the group. "Alright, let's move out! Let's go see the summit before Namjoon tries to map the terrain with his bare hands."
"I have a compass, Yura!" Namjoon protests loudly as the group finally begins to move, their voices fading into a cheerful, echoing chorus as they disappear into the dense birch trees.
Within minutes, the campground falls into silence. The only sounds left are the crackle of the dying campfire embers and the gentle, rhythmic lapping of the lake against the shore.
"Come here," he murmurs, extending a warm hand toward you.
You slide your hand into his, letting him pull you up from the wooden bench. Your legs feel like lead, and you let out a tiny, breathless sigh as you lean your weight against his side.
"Inside or outside?" he asks
"Inside," you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
The RV is quiet. You are curled on the small bench seat, watching Yoongi move as he tidies up. He glances over, a soft smile touching his lips. The same smile that had begun to feel like a key, turning something over inside of you. Since you’d stumbled back into his life, a ghost of yourself. Trying to find fragments of a past you couldn’t grasp, he’d been… careful. His touches were questions, his kisses were gentle. He’s been helping rebuild you from the ground up, brick by patient brick, afraid the slightest tremor might make you crumble again. But you weren’t crumbling.
Not anymore.
You were remembering.
And…there was something else you remembered from that cave night.
Barely warm water, washing the dirt away from your skin. Yoongi pressed behind you in a cramped shower that hardly fit the two of you. Fading mint hair falling over your shoulder as he pressed his lips to your neck.
“Yoongi,” you say standing.
“Hmm?” He turns, his smile gentle, inquiring.
You don't answer with words. You cross the small space in two strides, your hands coming up to frame his face, and you kiss him. It isn't one of the careful kisses you’d shared since the day he took you to your old college.
This was something else….something….more.
Your mouth opens under his, your tongue sweeping in to taste him…coffee, mint, and the unmistakable flavor of him. A sound of pure shock vibrates in his throat, but his hands fly to your waist, holding on to you. You walk him backward with your mouths connected. It's a clumsy stumble until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the RV’s bed where the two of you slept the night before. He falls onto it with a soft oof, pulling you down on top of him as he lands.
“What are we doing?” He pants against your lips.
“I remember us in the shower that night,” you whisper and his eyes scan your face. “You washing the mud out of my hair, kissing my neck…my shoulder.”
You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your own top follows a second later. The fabric joining his on the floor. He lays beneath you, chest bare, his gaze raking over you. His hands settled on your hips, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your shorts. You reach back, unclasping your bra with a single flick, and shed it. The look in his eyes flickers with something a bit more heated.
“What else did we do that night?” You blink down at him.
He doesn't move for a moment, just drinking in the sight of you above him, your hair cascading around your shoulders, your chest rising and falling with rapid breaths.
“Fuck,” he groans.
Flipping you over, he buries his face in your neck, lips making contact with the smooth column of your neck just like he had in your memory. A low whimper escapes you, and the sound seems to spur him on.
His lips move lower, over the curve of your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. Locking eyes with you, his mouth closes over the peak of your breast. You cry out, back bowing off the mattress. His tongue circles your nipple before giving the same attention to the other, switching back and forth until you’re wiggling under him and his name starts falling from your lips.
His hands are everywhere…kneading the swell of your breasts, skimming down your ribs, gripping your waist to hold you still for his mouth. The rough pad of his thumb circles your other nipple, pinching lightly in time with the pull of his lips, and the sensation is maddening. You’re lost in it, in the feel of him, and the smell of his skin.
Drunk on sensation, your own hands drift from his hair, down the smooth skin of his back, seeking the waistband of his pants. Your fingers find the stings, fumbling with the knot tied there.
He freezes.
Throwing himself off you, he takes a few steps away from you pressing himself against a small closet of the RV. Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and runs his hands over his face, shaking his head.
“I'm sorry,” you say quickly, covering yourself with your hands.
“No,” he breathes out. “You don't have to be sorry. I…uh…”
“What?” You ask.
“I just don't know if that's a good idea yet,” he says softly as you blink at him. “I always hoped the day would come where you would walk back into my life and we would pick back up where we left off. Obviously, that can't happen and…there's a part of me that can't figure out if you want me because you desperately want your old life back. Or, do you truly want me now?”
For a long moment, the only sound is the distant, rhythmic lapping of the lake outside. You look at him and you see the faint shadows of exhaustion around his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands.
Suddenly, the pieces click together. He isn't rejecting you. He is desperately trying to protect the both of you. Slowly, you reach down and grab a discarded hoodie from the foot of the bed, pulling it over your head. It swallows you whole, but it offers a small shield of comfort.
Yoongi is still pressed against the small wooden closet, his bare chest rising and falling with sharp, ragged breaths, his eyes fixed on the floor as if he’s afraid to look at you.
Carefully, you slide off the edge of the mattress. Your bare feet make no sound on the narrow carpeted aisle as you cross the small space between you. You don't rush him. You stop just a step away, allowing him the space to pull back if he needs to. He doesn't. But his jaw tightens, a muscle jumping in his cheek as you move closer.
"Yoongi," you say softly.
When he doesn't look up, you reach out, your hands gentle but unwavering as you place your palms flat against his bare chest, right over his heart. Beneath your fingers, his heartbeat is a frantic, thumping rhythm. It's completely betraying the controlled mask he’s trying so hard to wear.
"Look at me. Please," you whisper.
Slowly, his dark eyes lift, swimming with an agonizing mixture of desire, fear, and an exhaustion that breaks your heart.
"I don't just want my old life back," you say. "And I don't want you just because a girl in a memory loved you."
"Y/N, the memories are coming back so fast lately... I need to be sure you aren't just reacting to the ghost of us. I can't handle being a placeholder for who we used to be." Yoongi lets out a shaky exhale, his hands twitching at his sides.
"I hear you," you say softly. Your fingers curl slightly against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. "And Yoongi... I would be lying to you if I said the adrenaline didn't play a part in it today. Finding that cave, the rush of the memories hitting me all at once, the sheer joy of feeling like….her… myself.... it flooded me. It made me want to reach for the most familiar, safest thing I know. Which is you."
Yoongi’s eyes close for a split second, a pained, tight swallow running down his throat as if your honesty validates his deepest fear.
"But," you continue quickly, stepping a fraction closer so your toes brush against his, forcing his eyes to snap back open. "That is only part of it. What I'm feeling right now. What I've been feeling for you."
You look directly into his dark, searching eyes, leaving absolutely no room for him to doubt the clarity in yours.
"I know I want you now," you tell him, your voice clear with certainty. "As much as a part of me desperately wants to remember our past. As much as I want to know the first time we ever kissed, the first time we held hands, the first time we..." You pause, a soft, breathless color rising to your cheeks, but you don't break eye contact. "...the first time we had sex. I want those memories because they belong to us. But they aren't the only things drawing me to you."
Yoongi’s hands slowly rise from his sides, his fingers hovering just an inch away from your waist, trembling slightly as he hangs onto your every word.
"I want to experience life with you now too," you whisper, your hands sliding up his chest to wrap gently around the back of his neck. "I want the Yoongi who sits on a bucket and silently watches over his friends. I want the Yoongi who threatens to feed phones to raccoons just so I can sleep a few minutes longer. I want the man who was willing to let me marry someone, even when his own heart was breaking. I'm not chasing a ghost, Yoongi. I'm chasing you. The man standing in front of me right now."
A long, ragged breath finally tears out of Yoongi’s chest, a sound of shattering relief. The rigid tension that had locked his shoulders completely evaporates.
Before the last word can even fully leave your lips, Yoongi closes the distance between you.
His hands slide up from your waist, his broad palms framing your jaw with a sudden, fierce desperation that steals the air straight from your lungs. He pulls you to him, his mouth crashing down onto yours.
You let out a soft, breathless gasp against his lips, your hands tightening instinctively in his dark, messy hair as he walks you backward. Your heels tangle in the discarded clothes on the floor, but Yoongi’s grip keeps you upright until the back of your knees hit the mattress.
Together, you tumble backward onto the comforter. Yoongi catches the brunt of the fall on his forearms, hovering over you in the afternoon light through the RV window. He doesn’t break the kiss. His mouth shifts against yours, deep and heavy, pouring every ounce of the love, fear, and patience into the slide of his lips. It’s intoxicating, and completely consumes you, erasing everything else until the only things that exist are the heat of his bare chest against your fingers and the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.
When he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his chest heaving as he rests his forehead gently against yours. He stays there for a long moment, just breathing you in, his thumb gently wiping a trace of moisture from the corner of your lower lip.
Slowly, Yoongi shifts his weight. He doesn't pull away completely, but he rolls onto his side beside you, propping his head up with one hand while his other arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. He reaches down and pulls the comforter up over both of your shoulders, cocooning you in the warmth of the bed.
"Yoongi?" You whisper, your voice a little breathless, your hand resting against his ribs.
A faint, incredibly soft smile touches his lips. He leans down, pressing one last, lingering kiss to the crown of your head, his chin resting there as he holds you close.
"That's it for today," he murmurs.
You blink up at him, a little surprised.
"I am going to take you out," Yoongi says softly. "A real date. No chaotic campground, no friends screaming outside the window.”
“I'd like that.” You smile.
“And… for record,” he says. “The first time we kissed was the same night we had sex for the first time.”
“What?” You look up at him quickly. “Were…were we even …together?”
“No.” He shakes his head and your eyes go wide. “It was also on my dorm bed….while Joon was asleep snoring and listening to his ocean sounds less than five feet away.”
“WHAT!?!” You prop yourself up and look down at him.
“It's fine.” He laughs thinking back at the memory. “He still doesn't know about it. We were quiet.”
“WHAT!?!” You ask again.
“You hated your roommate,” he explains. “I mean you HATED her. You showed up to our dorm room after you couldn't get a hold of Yura. You were upset because your roommate used your expensive drawing paper as a coaster. You walked all the way across campus in the middle of the night and knocked on our door.”
“That doesn't sound safe,” you whisper.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I told you I would yell at you later for it. I just gestured to my bed and you crawled in, pulling me in right along with you. You laughed about Joon snoring. We talked for a moment. Then you just went entirely quiet," Yoongi continues. "You were staring at my mouth. I asked you if you were okay, and instead of answering, you just reached up, grabbed my collar, and pulled me down."
"I did not." You stare at him.
"You did," he insists, entirely amused by your crisis at the revelation. "You kissed me like you were trying to erase the fact that your drawing paper got ruined. I'd been half in love with you for six months already. I wasn't exactly about to push you away. But then things started moving fast, and every time Joon rolled over or the ocean sounds on his phone changed tracks, we both froze."
"Oh my god," you groan, burying your face directly into Yoongi’s chest. "We are awful people. Namjoon was right there."
"Hey, I told you, we were quiet. Besides, you didn't seem to mind at the time. You kept biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud every time Joon snored," he laughs.
“I really was…bold, wasn't I?” You ask, making Yoongi laugh.
"Bold doesn't even begin to cover it," he murmurs, his large hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, his fingers idly playing with the ends of your hair. "You were terrifying. Brilliant, but terrifying. I was convinced for the first three months of our relationship that I was just a pawn in your war against your roommate. You would make me stay late in your dorm just because she hated it."
"Was I really that mean to her?" You ask, a breathless laugh escaping you as you settle back down onto his chest, your chin resting on your hands.
"She would hide your paint brushes and once accidentally washed your favorite silk blouse with a muddy pair of pants," Yoongi notes. "She deserved everything she got."
You look down at his lazy, utterly content smirk, a soft warmth blooming under your skin. The sheer domesticity of this moment. You swallowed up in his oversized hoodie, cocooned under a heavy comforter in a quiet RV while the afternoon sun paints the walls.
"And you really waited months for me?" You whisper, your finger tracing a slow, absent line across the smooth skin of his collarbone.
The teasing smirk slowly fades from Yoongi’s lips. His hand shifts from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
"I would have waited years," he says. "We used to sit in the back of the campus coffee shop. I would pretend to work on my laptop, but I was just tracking the neon orange pen you always kept tucked into your messy bun. Every time you laughed at something Jimin said, or got mad at a textbook, I was just... stuck there watching you. So when you finally grabbed my shirt that night, I wasn't about to let you go."
"I'm glad I didn't let you," you say, leaning your face into the warm palm of his hand.
"Me too," he murmurs.
For a few beautiful minutes, the RV is entirely yours. There are no frantic camera shutters, no screaming chefs, and no looming shadows of what you lost. There is only the rhythmic, steady beating of Yoongi's heartbeat beneath your palm.
CRASH.
A loud, metallic clatter echoes from the direction of the fire pit, followed instantly by a high-pitched, panicked shriek from Jimin and a deep, authoritative bark of leadership from Yura.
"NAMJOON! THE COOLER WAS REINFORCED FOR A REASON!"
"I didn't mean to kick it!" Namjoon’s muffled voice booms through the open screen door of the RV, sounding entirely too close to the gravel driveway. "I was trying to dodge the pinecone Jungkook threw! The latch just... snapped!"
"THE MELON IS AIRBORNE!" Jungkook’s yell pierces the air. "THE RACCOONS ARE WINNING!"
Yoongi doesn't move a single muscle. His eyes slowly open, staring flatly at the ceiling with an expression of pure exhaustion.
"They're back," he states, his voice entirely devoid of emotion. "They didn't even make it to the summit. They failed the hike."
"I think the melon incident cut it short," you giggle, your shoulders shaking against his chest as the distant chaos escalates into what sounds like a full-blown footrace across the gravel.
"I'm changing the Wi-Fi password to 'NamjoonKilledTheMelon2026'," Yoongi mutters, though he doesn't actually reach for his phone this time. Instead, his grip around your waist tightens, pulling you back down into the plush safety of the mattress, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck. "Ignore them. If we stay perfectly still, Yura will handle the casualties."
You wrap your arms around his bare shoulders, letting out a soft, completely happy laugh as you listen to the beautiful, chaotic circus waiting just outside your door. You don't know what tomorrow's memories will bring, but as Yoongi holds you tight against the noise of the world, you know exactly where you belong.
in which jungkook fucks his girlfriend raw in the middle of a performance because he's addicted to that pussy.
❪ PAIRING ❫ : idol bf!jungkook x gf!f.reader
❪ GENRE ❫ : established relationship au, porn with no plot, smut and fluff
❪ WARNINGS ❫ : 18+, explicit smut, semi public sex, quickie, rough sex, doggy style, unprotected sex, penetrative vaginal sex against the wall, praise kink, dirty talk and degradation, he calls her a slut, size difference, spanking, manhandling, lots of clit play, makeout, scratching, mentions of pain, creampie, slight overstimulation and orgasm control, he gives it to her hard, a little breeding kink, cum play, use of panties as a plug to keep the load in
❪ WC ❫ : 2.2k
❪ NOTE ❫ : couldn't help myself so i wrote a quick smut drabble cos i've been feral since watching jungkook perform in that jacket, i felt like you naughty girls deserved to join in on the fun so enjoy reading and wet dreams ! <33
「 MASTERLIST | READ ON WATTPAD 」
“wait for me baby, don't go anywhere.”
that was what your boyfriend jungkook had rasped two hours ago after kissing you breathless enough to leave your legs shaky and then he ran back onstage.
you stood just off the main stage, your heart pounding in your chest, feeling the sexual desire wafting between you both even though he was away giving all his energy and power to singing and dancing with his members.
but you only got the version of him no one else got or knew about, the one who glanced toward you between songs, eyes locking on yours with a hunger that had nothing to do with the performance.
it was as if he were giving his own personal sultry show to you instead of thousands of fans screaming his name.
you watched a droplet of sweat trace a line down the middle of his chest almost pornographically, like it begged for your tongue to lick it right off and you wanted to so badly.
now during the short break after one of their songs, jungkook jogged offstage for a quick towel and water, his denim jacket with nothing underneath parted to show off his sweat slick muscular body, his jeans low enough to show off the tiny hint of his calvin klein underwear.
he tossed the towel aside and made a beeline straight for you, ignoring the staff calling after him.
“fuck i've been thinking about you the whole time.”
his voice was husky from singing, a little breathless as well, he grabbed your wrist impatiently before you could even reply and pulled you deeper into the backstage down the corridor for more privacy.
“i can't focus when i know you're right there watching me.”
“jungkook the performance and the fans—”
you started but your protest melted into a gasp as he pushed you against the wall directly out of sight.
“they can handle the next song. i need you now.” he grumbles.
his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust and with pent up energy that he wants to take out on you.
he spun you around without waiting, pressing your chest against the wall, his front molding to your back as you felt the hard line of his erection already straining against his jeans.
“it's been hard since i saw this tight little ass in those jeans.”
“kook...”
you whimpered at his words, your back already arching for him, your eyes growing half lidded.
“god i love it when you call me that.” he rushes out.
his hands moved fast before you could even catch a breath, yanking your jeans and your panties down your thigh in one rough tug.
you could hear the cheers of the crowd and the beat of the music still playing, everything made you both feel alive and the thrill that you both might get caught at any second, yet instead of stopping you it made you hornier, your pussy giving a twitch.
“shitt you're already wet.”
jungkook groaned low, one hand sliding between your legs to tease your folds, feeling the copious amounts of arousal you leaked.
his fingers were so skilled, always knowing how to find your clit like an expert and it makes you shudder each time as he circles your clit once twice before dipping inside just enough to make your knees buckle but not fully inside, just giving you a little taste of what's about to come.
“all this for me hmm? while i was out there dancing?”
you bit your lip hard, nodding frantically.
“yes kook p-please...” you panted.
he chuckled as he grabbed your hips, leaning down to nip at your earlobe.
“atta girl, keep quiet for me yeah? can't have them hearing how i fuck my baby backstage.”
he pulled the zipper down, freeing himself, his cock hard and throbbing hotly, precum already beading at the tip.
he rubbed it along your slit coating himself in your essence, letting out a string of curses at the warm feeling of you.
there was no time for foreplay and time was running by fast and he had to join everyone on the stage so he didn't wanna waste any time.
jungkook was big, always had been and each time he decided to impale you on his cock, it felt like the very first time even though the stretch had gotten familiar.
“ahh... yes…”
you let out a long relieved whine at the feeling of him coming home inside you as he pushed in slowly inch by inch, intentionally letting you feel every ridge and vein of his dick and how he twitches inside you.
“fuuuuck...”
he hissed through gritted teeth, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he felt your pussy clench on him, welcoming him inside with a wet hungry swallow like it'd been dying for him to be inside.
his one hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, the other hand on the wall above your head.
“so tight, always so fucking perfect for me.”
he growls and grunts like a madman and you respond with a moan of yours.
he bottomed out with a deep,manly noise and he watched with hooded eyes at the way your ass quivers.
the fullness was overwhelming, his cock buried deep and pressing against that spot inside you that made you see stars behind your eyelids.
for a second he just stayed there, breathing hard, both of you listening to the crowd outside, then he started moving and you were already a squirmy mess.
backshots or whatever they called it.
receiving that from him always turns your brain to mush and it felt like he was literally rearranging your insides.
hard, quick, yet rough thrusts that only happened when he was trying to make you cum fast and with each thrust from him, you rocked harder against the wall, your hand scrambling to grab onto something and not being able to help yourself, you gripped his hand tightly, your nails digging into it and the pain fueled him even more.
the angle was perfect and with every thrust he reached that special spot inside you.
his hips moved like a needle does on a sewing machine, your tongue lolls out lewdly, almost drooling in the mindless pleasure.
squelch. squelch. squelch.
obscene noises were made each time he pumped in and out and in and out, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, sending jolts through you.
each thrust made your breasts bounce under your top, nubs hard and aching against the fabric.
“listen to that!” he snarls.
“hear how wet you are? taking my cock so willingly while everyone out there thinks i'm just taking a break.”
you sobbed, trying to muffle it against your arm though it didn't do much help anyways.
“kook… faster p-please, i need—”
he didn't let you finish your words because he obliged instantly, picking up the pace, his hips slamming inside you.
the same control he used on stage now driving you into insanity.
sweat dripped from his hair and onto your back, his free hand snaked around you to rub your clit in a tight fast rubs, matching the brutal rhythm of his cock.
your lips remained perpetually parted, letting out little “uh uh uhs” with each of his thrusts, not having any control to hold yourself up, your body was held like a ragdoll with one of his arms alone.
“yeah uh huh? you like this?”
he asks, mockingly imitating one of your noises with a breathless chuckle.
“oh god..”
you mewled, not even processing his words enough to reply to him.
“answer me when i ask a question. tell me, do you like getting pounded like a secret slut while i'm supposed to be performing?”
he lets out an animalistic sound, his palm coming down to give a sharp spank on your butt cheek, most definitely leaving a red handprint there.
“nhnnmm ahh y-yes so good. i want more. i want more pleaseee.”
you choked out letting out quiet squeals, unable to keep up with his fucking while he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his head falling back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
“of course you want more, this pussy never gets enough does it huh? so greedy.”
he gives you a few more hard thrusts, his hips circling occasionally doing that grinding rhythm that makes your toes curl while you start fluttering hard around him as if trying to just trap him inside you forever.
“dammit you feel so good, g-gonna cum so hard inside you baby.”
he stutters, his brows furrowing.
the pressure was starting to build fast so fast, from the way he dominated you, from his words, the rush of adrenaline and everything else... it was too much yet so amazing at the same time.
you wanted more, more and more.
your head thrashed side to side as you felt like he'd just hit deep inside your stomach, your hand scratching red lines on his tattooed wrist.
“yes—yes—yes—”
you yelped, trembling uncontrollably as you felt so near to your orgasm.
“that's it cum on my cock, let me feel you.”
he starts pounding you, angling your hips, manhandling you so he's able to reach the depths inside you that you didn't even know existed.
his hand quickening on your clit, doing that side to side and up and down motions on your clit, he knows it drives you a little insane.
he knows that you love it when he plays around with that little sensitive button of yours.
when he decides to pinch it between two fingers and holding on while delivering sharp thrusts, did it finally break you.
you came with a loud scream that ended in a wail.
“hahhh!”
your pussy pulses around his pistoning length, milking him, making his pace falter at the heavenly feeling of you cumming around him.
but he soon picked back up, fucking you through it and chasing his own release while making your juices splash everywhere making a mess on the floor beneath you.
his breaths turned ragged, thrusts losing their rhythm as he got closer and closer.
thrust. thrust. thrust.
“gonna fill this cunt up baby ughh!”
he hisses, slapping his palm beside your head as he buried himself to the hilt and came.
“mmmph..”
you let out a pathetic muffled noise as hot spurts of his cum filled you to the brim, leaving so much of the white mess as he ground his hips slowly, murmuring expletives while pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder.
for a long moment you both just panted, bodies locked together, both of you throbbing in the same way with heartbeats racing together.
he didn't wanna leave you so soon or lose the feel of this sweet cunt wrapped around him that he was addicted to but time was almost up, he could hear the members getting ready and the staff calling for his name.
with a reluctant groan, he pulled out slowly with a grunt and an “ohh” leaves you from the empty incomplete feeling.
your pussy gaping right in front of his eyes, leaking his cum as if saying without words how much she misses him already, he had to force his eyes away or else he'd probably just cancel everything and throw you over his shoulder and take you back to the hotel.
he pulled you close pushing your panties and jeans up, smoothing over them while you squirmed at the sodden feeling but the way he held you tighter confirmed that this was exactly what he wanted.
“you okay?”
he asked, eyes searching yours with concern and cups your cheek.
you nodded, a wanton moan leaving you as he kissed you deeply, tongue tangling with yours, tasting your cherry chapstick and your natural taste that he knows by heart.
“i love you so much, i will be finishing the show as soon as possible and then i will take you back to the hotel to finish this properly, you get me yeah?”
he patted your clothed butt and you giggled even as your legs still trembled a bit as he leaned down to steal another kiss.
“i love you too, go kill the rest of the performance pretty boy.” you cooed.
he grinned at the praise, cheeks flushing, that bunny toothed smile breaking through the post sex haze which you adored so much.
he adjusted his earpiece and took a few steps forward but he paused and turned to look back at you.
“keep those panties on, i want my cum leaking out of you when i come back to you.”
he winks, wiping sweat from his brows and rushing back toward the stage as if nothing had happened and he hadn't just said the filthiest thing ever.
you leaned against the wall with a giddy laugh, catching your breath, feeling his cum slowly start to sweep into your panties.
you watched him rejoin his members and dance like he hadn't just ruined you backstage.
your beautiful man is glowing even more now.
but one thing he didn't forget to do every now and then was look back at you with that secret smirk.
the world wanted him, yet you had him all to yourself and you never felt more lucky.
he was yours and you were his, it was a forever kinda thing.
you watched his tongue trace his bottom lip while singing and watching you with bedroom eyes.
okay girl, not sure if your requests are open and even if they aren’t i need to share this because i had a 10 hour and 30 minute solo car ride to think about it and i just need someone to hear it.
5 seconds of summer is one of my all time favorite bands and i was listening to their entire discography on my drive and i was listening to “Heartbreak Girl” and i genuinely can’t stop thinking about a fic that’s like based on the lyrics of the song. Like some ones that stick out to me are
“and when the phone call finally ends you say “thanks for being a friend” and i’m going in circles again and again”
“i’m right here when are you gonna realize that i’m your cure”
Idk if you know the song but i feel like they’re just so good for a fic of one of the boys like yearning the whole time for their best friend and then idk some gnarly smut or something (lmao yes i’m that type of person) and if anyone could see my vision or create it well i know you could.
But even if they aren’t open, like i said i just needed to share it with someone because it hasn’t left my mind. Love you girl 💋
yes baby my requests are open!! i'm always happy to hear ideas from my girls cos y'all have the most amazing brains 🤭 i actually have several requests saved already that i plan to work on once i'm done with my ongoing series, your situation is so relatable tho because that's exactly how i get my ideas too, it happens especially when i'm trying to fall asleep at night LMAO and the best ideas pop into my head!
i love 5sos too and and coincidentally enough i have a series that's very similar to what you described, it's not directly inspired by "heartbreak girl" but it follows a lot of the same themes, it's my jimin series titled "beneath our friendship" and it's also available on my masterlist, it follows the friends to lovers trope where he's always loved her, yearned for her and pined for her while she only ever saw him as a friend also contains second chance and fwb, there are still so many plans i have for the series before i fully start posting it, i can definitely take inspiration from the song now cos it fits well with the story, i'm not sure when i'll start posting the series but definitely in the future
thank you sm for trusting me enough to bring your request to life, it genuinely warms my heart and makes me flush, i love you ava, i hope that when the time comes i'll be able to create something you'll enjoy !!
Summary: Your life was perfect. You had the perfect fiance, the perfect house and the perfect ring on your finger. The only thing that wasn't perfect …. were the memories you lost years ago and the fact your parents won't talk about it.
Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader
Genre: Romance, Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Smut
Warnings: Memory Loss, Swearing, Blood Mention, Unprotected Sex, Mention Of Car Accident, Mention Of Drunk Driver. Will add as I go…
A/N: Posting Update!
There will not be any updates next week. I'm going on vacation and will not be bringing any of my stuff with me. I also have another little thing planned next month as well but I'll of course give you heads up when I skip that week.
The watercolor class is completely different from the charcoal workshop. Here, the only sounds are the soft, rhythmic scrape of brushes against textured paper and the gentle slosh of water in glass jars.
Soft music plays in the background. There are no sounds of whimpering anxiety from your fellow classmates. Just a serene, calming studio.
Yura had been right. Watercolor is entirely different. It doesn't demand the aggressive, physical presence that charcoal did. It doesn't leave you looking like a chimney sweep. Instead, it requires a strange, peaceful surrender. You watch a bloom of deep ultramarine bleed effortlessly into a wet wash of cobalt turquoise, the colors merging on the heavy cotton paper to create a seamless, dreamy twilight sky.
For the first time since everything happened, the frantic, buzzing static in your mind is completely quiet. You aren't forcing yourself to dig through the fog. You aren't desperately reaching for puzzle pieces. You are just watching the water do the work, building layers of color, feeling a profound sense of calm wash over you.
Your hands are steady. They feel like yours.
The serene silence is softly broken by the familiar ding of your phone resting on the edge of the wooden easel.
You set your brush down across the rim of your water jar, wiping your damp fingers on an apron before picking up the device. A smile already hitches at the corners of your lips before you even unlock the screen, anticipating the inevitable chaos.
When the notification pops up, it isn't a direct message. It’s a update from the collective group chat.
Jin changed the group name from "Operation Find Her Braincells" to "She's Back-ish"
A breathless laugh escapes you, drawing a curious but friendly glance from an elderly woman painting a bowl of fruit two easels over. You offer her a sheepish nod before quickly looking back down at the screen as the messages immediately begin to cascade.
Jin: It is a temporary title!
Jin: But after the Masterclass Demonstration of the Sacred Mussel Technique, I felt the previous name was insulting to her muscle memory.
Taehyung: I still have the shell on my nightstand. It radiates protective energy.
Jimin: Taehyung, please throw the garbage away, it smells like the pier at low tide.
Jungkook: I told you guys she’d stick the landing! (Even though Yoongi sabotaged our acrobatic routine because he has weak ankles).
Yoongi: My ankles are fine. Shut up.
Yura: Leave him alone, Yoongi.
Yura: Anyway, Y/N!! How is the watercolor class going?? Is it a masterpiece yet?
You lift your phone, framing the half-finished twilight sky on your easel. The colors look even better through the lens, the deep blues and soft, bleeding turquoises vivid against the white of the paper. You snap the photo and type out a quick reply.
You: Not a masterpiece yet but it’s a lot more relaxing than charcoal
You hit send, attaching the photo to the message.
Hobi: WAHHHH!! Look at those colors! Y/N, that looks so professional!! My artistic queen! 🎨✨
Namjoon: Really impressive blending, Y/N. The transitions are super smooth. You should be really proud of that, it’s looking beautiful.
The chat continues to scroll at lightning speed, a blur of emojis and enthusiastic punctuation, when a new message from Jin halts the art appreciation train completely.
Jin: Speaking of beautiful transitions!
Jin: Now that Y/N is reclaiming her braincells, we need to finalize the schedule for the Annual Summer Solstice Wilderness Spectacular. 🌲⛺🔥
Yoongi: Please don't call it that.
Hobi: OOOOOOOH IT’S TIME!!! 😍🎒
Your thumb hovers over the screen. The what?
Jungkook: RV #1. Yura and I already spent the weekend upgrading the sound system and installing the LED underglow. It looks like a spaceship. We are leading the convoy.
Yura: Can confirm. Also, I bought three industrial-sized bags of marshmallows. We're doing gourmet s'mores.
Taehyung: I get the loft bed in RV #1! I already packed my silk pajamas and my telescope.
Jungkook: Absolutely not, Tae, that’s the designated gaming zone. You’re in RV #2 with Jin and Namjoon.
Jin: Excuse me?! RV #2 is the Culinary Oasis! I have already pre-marinated forty pounds of short ribs. Namjoon is banned from touching any open flames, but he is permitted to chop vegetables under strict supervision.
Namjoon: I sliced one finger one time three years ago, Jin. But fine. I’ll stick to being the navigator. (Though last time we went, Yoongi took a wrong turn and we ended up in a tractor dealership parking lot for four hours).
Yoongi: I was avoiding a toll. And RV #3 is the quiet zone. No yelling, no LED lights, and absolutely no gaming after midnight.
You stare at the screen, your smile slowly faltering. You blink once. Twice. You look from the phone back to your serene, peaceful watercolor painting, then back to the chat, which is currently a chaotic flood of tent-emoji spam and arguments over who is responsible for bringing the bug spray.
You slowly type out a response, the steady feeling in your hands suddenly replaced by a mild sense of impending dread.
You: Wait... camping?
The rapid-fire scrolling of the group chat suddenly halts. The silence on the screen is almost deafening, lasting for three long, agonizing seconds before the text bubbles start popping up again, frantic and overlapping.
Yoongi: ...
Jimin: Oh, brilliant. Nice job, everyone.
Yura: 🤦♀️
Yoongi: Of course she doesn't remember the camping trip. She literally lost her memories, and we're throwing forty pounds of short ribs and LED spaceships at her.
Jin: Hey! I was trying to build excitement! Anticipation is the finest spice of life!
Namjoon: Yoongi is right, though. Sorry, Y/N. We overshot. The Annual Summer Solstice Wilderness Spectacular is just our wordy name for the group camping trip we take every year.
Jungkook: Wait, wait, don't panic! Y/N, you don't need to worry about anything. You’re in RV #1 with me and Yura. We have the best snacks, the best music.
Jungkook: I promise I won't let Taehyung bring his telescope into the gaming zone. It’s going to be perfect.
You stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the glass. The peacefulness of the watercolor studio suddenly feels miles away, replaced by the mental image of being trapped in a moving vehicle that looks like a neon spaceship, surrounded by forty pounds of raw meat, competitive gaming, and smelly mussel shells.
Yoongi’s name pops up, separating his message from the chaos of the group chat.
Yoongi: Hey.
Yoongi: Don't feel pressured to go if you don't want to. I know this is a lot to take in at once, and honestly, the thought of being trapped in an RV with Jin’s ribs and Jungkook’s LED lights for three days is giving me a headache, too.
Yoongi: If you’d rather stay behind. I'll stay with you.
You let out a soft breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a fraction as you read his words. Leaving the chaotic group chat burning in the background, you quickly type back to him.
You: I don't even know anything about camping... I don't remember what to pack or what to do.
A moment later, the three little dots appear.
Yoongi: You don't need to know anything. You're not expected to bring anything but yourself.
Yoongi: Honestly, you loved it. You're usually the one who insists on going every year, even if you spend half the time complaining about the mosquitoes.
Yoongi: Jin already bought enough food to feed a small army. Everything is covered.
Yoongi: But the offer still stands. If it feels like too much too fast, you say the word and I’ll tell them we're sitting this one out. No questions asked.
You stare at his messages for a long moment.
The knot of anxiety in your chest loosens, not because camping suddenly sounds less chaotic, but because of the simple certainty behind his words.
If it feels like too much, we'll stay.
Not you'll stay.
We'll.
Your thumb hovers over the keyboard.
You: You'd really stay behind?
The reply comes almost immediately.
Yoongi: Obviously.
Yoongi: The woods will still be there next year.
Yoongi: Besides, somebody has to protect civilization from Jin's experimental campfire recipes.
A laugh escapes you. Across the studio, the elderly woman glances over again. You quickly duck your head. You glance back at the group chat.
Thirty-seven unread messages.
Somehow, while you'd been talking to Yoongi, the conversation had devolved into an argument about whether raccoons could be trained to participate in capture-the-flag.
You honestly aren't sure which side is winning.
A small smile tugs at your lips.
Maybe camping sounds overwhelming. Maybe the idea of spending three days in the wilderness with seven human disasters and Yura should concern you.
But beneath all the chaos...
You can feel it.
The excitement.The strange sense that this is something important. Not because of the trip itself. Because it's theirs.
A tradition.
A memory.
Maybe one you don't remember. But maybe one you can make yours again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you back out of your conversation with Yoongi and jump into the main chat.
Jungkook: If Y/N is officially attending, we need to conduct the Orientation Ceremony.
You: The what?
Jin: Oh no.
Yura: Absolutely not.
Taehyung: ABSOLUTELY YES.
Jungkook: Every first day of camping starts with the Orientation Ceremony.
Jimin: That's not true.
Jungkook: It is now.
Jungkook: Y/N needs to know the rules.
You: There are rules?
Jungkook: MANY.
Jungkook: Rule #1: Never trust Jin when he says "I added a little extra spice."
Jin: That's slander.
Namjoon: It's actually excellent advice.
Jungkook: Rule #2: If Taehyung says "come look at this," prepare to lose at least two hours of your life.
Taehyung: Because beauty cannot be rushed.
Jungkook: Rule #3: Never challenge Jimin to any game involving balance.
Jimin: Correct.
Jimin: You will lose.
Jungkook: Rule #4: Never ask Yoongi if he's having fun.
You: Why
Jungkook: Because he'll say no.
Jungkook: Even while actively having fun.
A full ten seconds pass.
Yoongi: Shut up.
The chat explodes.
Hobi: HE ADMITTED IT!!!!
Taehyung: SCREENSHOTTED.
Jimin: Historic day.
Jin: Mark the calendar.
You find yourself laughing so hard your eyes start watering.The sound echoes softly through the quiet watercolor studio. For a moment, you don't feel like someone desperately trying to recover missing pieces of herself.
You feel like someone with plans.
A camping trip with friends who won't stop talking. In an RV apparently covered in LED lights. And a quiet man who had offered, without hesitation, to stay behind if you needed him to.
Your phone vibrates again with a message from Yoongi.
Yoongi: For the record.
Yoongi: You're going to have fun.
You smile at the screen and type back.
You: Is that your professional camping assessment?
Three dots appear.
Disappear.
Then return.
Yoongi: No.
Yoongi: That's me remembering.
The smile slowly fades into something softer.
Warmer.
Because Yoongi remembers enough for both of you.
The heavy, metallic thud of a storage bay door slamming shut echoes across the driveway, followed immediately by Jungkook cheering as he tests the LED underglow of RV #1. It’s early morning, the sun barely cresting the horizon, casting a crisp golden light over the three massive vehicles.
Everything is packed. Every square inch of storage has been meticulously checked, re-checked, and crossed off a master spreadsheet that Namjoon had printed out in a three-ring binder.
Jin is currently standing on the steps of RV #2, hands on his hips, wearing an apron over his travel clothes that says The Chef Is In. He looks like a general reviewing his troops, his eyes locked onto the massive cooler tucked safely inside the "Culinary Oasis."
"Everything is locked and loaded," Hobi announces, jogging back from the rear of Yoongi’s designated quiet zone, RV #3. "Tire pressure is perfect, the water tanks are full, and I’ve successfully stowed Taehyung's telescope in a heavily padded closet where it cannot turn into a gaming hazard."
"It's an instrument of science, Hobi!" Taehyung protests from the window of RV #1, already wearing his silk pajama shirt under a denim jacket.
Namjoon, however, isn't looking at the RVs. He’s standing near the edge of the driveway, looking over his clipboard with a slightly worried expression. He taps his pen against his chin, looking back toward the garage.
"Hey, Jin," Namjoon calls out, raising his voice over the low hum of the idling engines. "Come here for a second. Look at the weight distribution and the final route calculations."
"What is it, Joon? If you're going to tell me forty pounds of short ribs is a structural hazard, I don't want to hear it." Jin sighs dramatically, stepping down from the RV.
"No, it's not the meat," Namjoon says, waving a hand. "I’m thinking about the logistics once we actually get deep into the valley. Look at the camp layout. The nearest general store from our site is a forty-five-minute drive down a narrow, winding mountain pass. If we want to go pick up a bag of ice, it's going to be a nightmare."
"What are you proposing, Joon?" Yoongi walks over, a travel mug of black coffee gripped firmly in his hand, looking entirely too awake for someone who hates mornings.
"I think it’s a good idea if there are two smaller chase vehicles trailing us," Namjoon explains, pointing his pen toward the driveway. "One car for quick supply runs, and another just in case someone…and I'm not naming names…takes a wrong turn into a commercial machinery business again."
"It was one time," Yoongi mutters into his coffee.
Jin pauses, his dramatic demeanor suddenly shifting into serious calculation. He rubs his chin, looking back at the massive convoy, then nods slowly.
"Actually... Namjoon makes an excellent point. Last year was an absolute tragedy. We ran out of standard-issue sea salt by day two, and I had to resort to using coarse Himalayan pink salt on the sweet potatoes. It completely threw off the flavor profile. We almost starved." Jin states.
"We didn't almost starve, you drama queen, we had a mountain of food," Jimin chimes in, leaning his head out of the passenger side of RV #2. "But he's right about the supply runs. Driving an RV down those mountain roads just for a grocery run sounds miserable."
“I can drive one SUV,” Hobi says. “Yura, why don't you and Y/N…”
“No,” Yura cuts Hobi off quickly. Her voice has a sharp, sudden edge to it that makes the playful morning air instantly freeze.
The casual bickering about short ribs and telescopes completely stops.
She is still standing near the door of RV #1, her hand gripping the metal handle a little too tightly, her knuckles turning white. She tries to force a quick, dismissive smile to smooth over the awkward tension, but the shadow that crosses her face is unmistakable.
You know exactly why she said no.
You might not remember the sound of the shattering glass or the crushing weight of the impact, but you know the aftermath. You know Yura was behind the wheel when the drunk driver slammed into your car. You know she walked away with minor cuts and a devastating, suffocating mountain of guilt and blaming herself every single day for the fact that you woke up in a hospital bed with a blank slate where your life used to be. The mere thought of getting behind the wheel of a chase vehicle, navigating narrow, winding mountain roads with you in the passenger seat, is clearly sending a wave of panic straight through her.
Hobi blinks, his enthusiastic smile faltering slightly as he senses the sudden shift. He looks between Yura and you, his mouth opening to apologize for putting her on the spot. Before the silence can stretch out and become heavy, Jimin steps down from the passenger side of RV #2. His movements are casual and completely erasing the awkwardness. He slides his hands into his pockets, offering Yura a warm, incredibly reassuring smile.
"Actually, count me out of the RV rotation," Jimin says easily, throwing an arm around Hobi’s shoulder. "I'll drive the second SUV. Hobi needs a co-pilot on the walkie anyway to keep him awake, and frankly, if I have to spend the next four hours listening to Jin explain the chemical breakdown of a short rib marinade, my ears are going to bleed."
"Hey! My marinades are an educational experience!" Jin protests from the steps.
The collective laugh that follows Jin’s outrage ripples through the driveway, pulling everyone’s attention back to the caravan. Jungkook starts cheering again, trying to sync the LED lights to a heavy bassline, and Namjoon nods, crossing something off his clipboard with a satisfied click of his pen.
The heavy, suffocating weight in the air lifts for them. But for you, it settles deep into your chest, growing heavier by the second. You look back at Yura. She is trying so hard to blend back into the chaos, laughing at something Jungkook just said, but her shoulders are tense. Her hand is still resting near the door of RV #1, trembling just a fraction.
She’s terrified, you realize, a sudden, sharp ache blooming behind your ribs. She’s terrified of hurting you again.
You look at the massive, rumbling RVs. You look at the spreadsheets, the excitement, the years of tradition laid out so perfectly before you. And suddenly, the "She’s Back-ish" title of the group chat feels entirely wrong. You aren't back. You are a fragile puzzle someone is trying desperately to glue back together, and right now, your presence is making someone walk on eggshells.
Without a word, you back away from the noise of the driveway. You find him near the back of RV #3, adjusting a side mirror. Yoongi takes a sip from his travel mug, his eyes tracking you the moment you round the corner. He doesn't say anything right away. He just lowers the mug, his sharp gaze instantly taking in the tension in your jaw, the way your fingers are clutching the hem of your sweater, and the faint shine of tears threatening to blur your vision.
"Hey," he says softly. "What's wrong?"
"Yoongi..." Your voice cracks, the sound small and fragile. You swallow hard, forcing the words out before you lose your nerve. "I don't think I should go."
"Where is this coming from? We talked about this. You said you wanted to go." He sets his coffee mug down on the bumper of the RV, turning his full attention to you.
"That was before," you whisper, blinking rapidly as a hot tear finally escapes. You look back toward the front of the driveway. "Did you see her? Did you hear her voice when Hobi suggested she drive? Yoongi, Yura is so uncomfortable. She's terrified."
"Y/N…" He tries.
"No, listen to me," you interrupt, the distress finally bubbling over. "She’s carrying this massive, awful mountain of guilt because of the accident. Because of what happened to my head, to my memories. If I’m in that RV, if I’m on this trip, she’s going to spend this trip watching me like I’m made of glass. I’m ruining it for her before we even leave."
More tears fall, and you angrily wipe them away with the back of your hand, frustrated by how quickly the panic has overtaken the calm within you.
"I should just stay home. It’s better if I stay behind. I don't want to be the reason she’s upset. I’m upset that she’s upset, and it’s just... it’s too much." You shake your head.
Yoongi stands there, letting you get it all out. He doesn't try to cut you off, and he doesn't tell you you're being dramatic. Instead, he steps closer, closing the distance between you until the chaotic noise of the rest of the group feels entirely locked out.
"Look at me," he commands gently.
You hesitate, then lift your eyes to meet his.
"You're fine," Yoongi says."You aren't ruining anything. You are not a burden to Yura."
He reaches out, and pulls you into his chest. His arms wrap themselves around you.
"Yura carries a lot of weight for what happened," he says softly. "We all know that. But leaving you behind isn't going to fix her guilt, Y/N. It’ll just make her feel worse, because she’ll think her fear took this away from you. She wants you here. Everyone wants you here."
Yoongi’s chest rises and falls against your cheek, his heartbeat steady. His chin rests lightly on the top of your hair, his hands broad and warm against your back.
"If you stay behind, she's going to sit in that RV for four hours thinking she ruined your chance to make a new memory," Yoongi murmurs. "She loves you, Y/N. That's why she's terrified. But running away from each other isn't the answer."
"I just don't want to break the tradition. I feel like an imposter." You sniffle, your face still pressed into his dark sweatshirt.
"You're not an imposter," he says firmly, his hands sliding up to your shoulders as he gently pushes you back just enough to look into your eyes. He reaches up, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "You're just recovering. And if you need to be treated like glass for a little bit while you heal, then we'll all just be really careful. Understand?"
Before you can answer, the heavy crunch of gravel signals someone approaching.
"Hey! Yoongi! Y/N!" Jungkook’s voice booms around the corner of the RV, full of morning energy. He skids to a halt, a bright pink walkie-talkie clamped in his hand and a massive grin on his face. "Jin says the short ribs are secured, Namjoon finished the final clipboard inspection, and…."
Jungkook stops mid-sentence, his eyes instantly catching your red-rimmed eyes and the way Yoongi still has you in his arms. The playful energy instantly drains from his face, replaced by a look of concern.
"What happened?" Jungkook asks. He looks at Yoongi, then at you, his brow furrowing. "Is it the chat? I can delete the chat."
"No, Kook, it's not the chat," Yoongi says. "We're just taking a minute."
"RV #1 is fully fired up, Y/N. The LED lights are set to a calming twilight blue because I remembered you liked that color. Yura already claimed the front passenger seat so she can manage the snacks, and we're just waiting on our last passenger. You ready?" Jungkook looks at you, his large, doe-like eyes softening. He steps closer, holding out a hand toward you.
You look at Jungkook's outstretched hand, then glance back toward the front of the driveway where you can hear Jin and Taehyung loudly arguing about whether a silk pajama shirt counts as proper wilderness attire. The panic from a moment ago tries to flare up again, a heavy weight pressing on your lungs. You look back at RV #1. You can see her silhouette through the tinted windshield, adjusting the sun visor, still looking rigid.
Yoongi watches the subtle shift in your expression, reading the hesitation in the line of your shoulders. He glances at Jungkook, then moves his gaze back to you.
"She's not riding in RV #1," Yoongi states calmly.
"Wait, why? We have the gaming zone setup! And the s'mores…" Jungkook blinks, looking caught off guard.
"She's riding with me," Yoongi interrupts smoothly, his voice leaving absolutely no room for argument. He reaches down and picks up his travel mug from the bumper of RV #3. “I want to spend some time with her alone before we don't get any.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to protest, but he looks at your face, notices the quiet gratitude in your eyes, and stops himself. A look of understanding dawns on him. He nods seriously, tapping his walkie-talkie against his palm.
"Copy that," Jungkook says softly, offering you a reassuring, slightly smaller smile. "But you're still getting gourmet s'mores when we arrive. I'll personally deliver them to RV #3. Don't let Yoongi eat them all, he acts like he doesn't like sugar but he's a liar."
With a quick, playful salute, Jungkook jogs back around the corner, his voice instantly crackling over the walkie-talkie as he alerts the rest of the group to the change in plans.
Yoongi walks over to the passenger side of RV #3, pulling the heavy door open for you. He looks over his shoulder, his dark eyes steady and entirely unbothered by the chaos of the morning.
"Go ahead," he says gently, nodding toward the RV. "It's quiet here. No LED lights, no forty pounds of meat, and definitely no raccoons."
A small, breathless laugh finally escapes you. You step up into the cabin of the RV, the interior smelling of clean upholstery and Yoongi's coffee. As you settle into the passenger seat, you look out the side mirror and see Yura stick her head out of the window of RV # 1. When she sees you look at her, you offer her a small, tentative wave. A look of profound relief washes over her face, and she throws you a fierce, blowing-a-kiss motion with both hands before disappearing back inside her vehicle.
Yoongi climbs into the driver's seat beside you, pulling the door shut with a solid, isolating thunk that instantly cuts out the noise of the driveway. He puts his coffee in the cup holder, starts the engine with a low, rumbling purr, and rests his hands comfortably on the steering wheel. He doesn't look at you immediately, giving you the space to just sit with your thoughts.
"Thank you, Yoongi," you say softly, leaning your head back against the headrest.
He shifts the massive vehicle into gear before reaching over and grabbing your hand. His thumb lightly rubs the ring on your middle finger.
“Always,” he whispers.
"WE HAVE ARRIVED!" Jin announces dramatically as he steps out of RV #2.
"Somebody help me unload the tables!" Jungkook yells from RV #1.
"The telescope comes out first!" Taehyung argues.
"The food comes out first!" Jin shrieks back.
Within minutes everyone falls into their usual routine. People who have done this dozens of times before. Namjoon unfolds maps and checks campsite markers. Jin begins inspecting the outdoor cooking setup. Jungkook and Hobi haul equipment from storage compartments while Jimin starts assembling folding chairs before anyone can sit on the ground and complain.
You step down from RV #3 and pause.
The air is cooler here and clean. Pine needles crunch softly beneath your shoes. The stream babbles over smooth stones nearby. Your feet automatically carry you a few steps toward the water's edge as you stare at the winding stream.
"Whoa, careful." Hobi appears beside you carrying two folding tables under one arm.
"The rocks get super slippery near the water.”
You glance toward the stream. Toward a large fallen log resting diagonally across the water.
The words leave your mouth before you even think about them.
"No," you say automatically. "Only by the fallen log over there."
Hobi freezes. The folding tables nearly slide out of his grip.
"What?" He asks.
"That's where Yura and I fell in." You point toward the weathered log.
Hobi completely stops adjusting the tables, his eyes widening to the size of saucers as he looks from you to the rotting, moss-covered log, and then back to you again.
"Y/N..." Hobi breathes, his voice barely a whisper, afraid that making too much noise might shatter whatever is happening.
You don't even realize you’re walking forward until your boots sink slightly into the damp earth closer to the bank.
"The water was so cold," you say, your voice remarkably steady even as a shiver runs down your spine. "It was freezing. We were laughing one second, and the next, the current just swept our feet right out from under us. It was so hard to catch our breath. We couldn't breathe, Hobi."
Behind you, the clattering of camping gear suddenly dies out. One by one, the boys freeze in their tracks. Jin drops a plastic container of utensils back onto the RV steps, and Namjoon’s clipboard lowers slowly to his side. Yura, who had been lifting a bag of marshmallows from the trunk of the SUV, lets her hands drop as she stares at you, her bottom lip trembling. Yoongi steps up right behind you, his presence warm at your back, though he doesn't speak.
"Yura tried to grab my jacket, but the fabric was too wet. We got separated," you whisper.
"And then what happened, Y/N?" Jimin asks.
You turn your head to look at him, a bright, genuine laugh bubbling up from your chest….the first real piece of your history locking perfectly into place. One that wasn't seen through fog. One that wasn't fragmented. One you didn't have questions about.
You knew this memory.
"Joonie and Kook came running over after hearing us scream. Kook dove off that boulder and grabbed Yura.” You look at the large rock. “Joonie was able to reach over and grab my hood and pull me in. Jin made Kook, Yura and I drink that… nasty tea so we wouldn't get sick.”
"It was an artisanal herbal infusion to prevent hypothermia!" Jin yells out automatically, but his voice cracks, as tears blink in his eyes.
"You..." Namjoon’s voice is barely a murmur, cracking slightly as the clipboard slips from his hand, landing with a soft thud on the pine needles. He steps forward, his long legs crossing the distance between you before he even seems to realize he's moving. He stops just a few feet away, looking down at you with an expression of pure, unfiltered vulnerability. "You called me Joonie."
"I think... I think I usually always called you Joonie." You offer him a soft nod, your eyes crinkling at the corners.
Namjoon swallows hard, a sudden, bright flush of emotion rushing over his face. He quickly looks down, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck as his shoulders shake with a silent, breathless laugh.
"Yeah. Yeah, you did. I... I really missed hearing that," he tells you.
Before Namjoon can say another word, a sharp, choked gasp cuts through the quiet of the clearing.
Yura stands a few feet away, the bag of marshmallows forgotten on the ground at her boots. Her hands are pressed hard against her mouth, trying and failing to stifle the sob that tears through her throat. The fragile composure she had been clinging to all morning completely shatters.
"Y/N..." she cries, running to you.
The guys instantly step back, opening the circle, their expressions softening with a collective, quiet understanding. Yoongi gives your shoulder a gentle, encouraging squeeze before stepping into the background beside Jimin, leaving the space open for her.
Yura closes the distance and throws her arms around you. The impact almost knocks you back a step, but you catch your balance, wrapping your arms tightly around her shaking shoulders. She buries her face into the crook of your neck, weeping openly, her entire body trembling against yours.
"I'm so sorry," she gasps out. "I'm so, so sorry, Y/N. I tried to hold on. I swear I tried to hold onto your jacket in the water, but it was just so slick, and the current was too fast... I let go of you. I let go."
"Yura, hey, look at me," you murmur, tightening your grip.
"And then the car... the accident," she sobs, her fingers digging desperately into the fabric of your sweater. "It was my fault. I should have seen him coming, I should have swerved sooner, I should have protected you! I broke you. I’m so sorry..."
"Yura. Listen to my voice," you say. "The accident wasn't your fault. A drunk driver is the only person responsible for what happened. You didn't break my memories, Yura. They're just hiding. And if I have to find them one piece at a time…then that's what I have to do. I don't blame you. So, please stop blaming yourself."
Yura stares at you for a long, silent beat, processing the words. Then, with a loud, watery sniffle, she buries her face back into your shoulder, hugging you so tightly it knocks the wind out of you. But this time, the heavy, rigid tension in her spine is completely gone. She is just holding you, letting the healing finally begin.
"Okay," she whimpers into your neck, her voice small but finally peaceful. "Okay. I'm sorry. I mean….I'm not sorry. I'm just glad you're here."
"Me too," you smile, rubbing her back.
"Alright, that's it, I can't take it anymore," Jin's voice suddenly breaks through the emotional fog, loud and aggressively cheerful. "This is a camping trip, not a tragedy marathon! Namjoon is crying, Hobi is crying, Taehyung is trying to use his telescope to look at his own tears…it is an absolute circus out here!"
You look up over Yura's shoulder, laughing as you see Namjoon frantically wiping his eyes with the edge of his clipboard, while Hobi is openly dabbing his face with a handful of napkins he pulled from a picnic basket.
"I am not crying," Yoongi mutters from the back, his hands safely tucked into his pockets, though the soft, incredibly proud look in his dark eyes tells an entirely different story. He catches your eye and gives you a slow, approving nod.
Yura finally pulls back from the hug, wiping her face completely, a genuine, radiant smile returning to her features. She links her arm tightly through yours, leaning her head against your shoulder as the group instantly bursts back into their familiar bickering.
You still don't have all the pieces, and the future is still an unpainted canvas. However, as you look at the mountains, the stream, and the people surrounding you, you realize you don't need to stress anymore.
You're already exactly where you belong.
Your memories will come.
Until then, like Yoongi said… you'll make new ones.
The roaring campfire crackled, sending lazy golden sparks floating up toward the stars, while the heavy, savory aroma of Jin’s pre-marinated short ribs filled the crisp night air.
Everyone was scattered around the fire on folding chairs, sticky-fingered and completely content. The initial chaos of the afternoon had finally mellowed out into a comfortable, warm haze. True to his word, Jungkook had even snuck over to give you a plate of gourmet s’mores, throwing a playful glare at Yoongi to make sure he didn't steal them.
Yoongi was sitting right next to you on a low wooden bench, his shoulder lightly brushing against yours. He was quietly nursing a fresh mug of black coffee, his legs stretched out toward the heat of the flames, looking more relaxed than he had all day. On your other side, Yura was leaning against you, her arm still loosely linked through yours, her earlier tears completely replaced by a soft, peaceful smile.
"I am a culinary god," Jin declares, gesturing with his tongs toward the empty platters. "Forty pounds of meat, completely demolished. Admit it, Yoongi, my secret marinade is the only reason you didn't lock yourself in RV #3 all evening."
"The ribs were fine," Yoongi murmurs into his coffee mug, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward.
"He likes them," Jungkook chimes in, poking a marshmallow with a stick.
A collective chuckle goes through the group, the shared laughter echoing softly against the backdrop of the bubbling stream nearby. For a moment, the bickering died down to a gentle murmur, the cozy quiet of the wilderness settling over everyone.
Hobi leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared into the dancing flames, his expression turning thoughtful. He glances across the fire, his eyes landing softly on you.
"Hey, Y/N," Hobi asks. "What memory do you want back the most?"
Everyone grows quiet, their attention shifting toward you with soft, supportive expressions. Namjoon pauses his idle doodling on his clipboard, and Jimin offers a quiet, encouraging nod.
The campfire suddenly seems to blur, and without even realizing it, your eyes immediately slide to the side, landing directly on Yoongi. You look at the sharp line of his jaw illuminated by the firelight, the quiet intensity in his dark eyes. You thought about the way his hand had felt in yours in the RV, the ring on your middle finger, and the simple, unwavering promise he had made to stay behind with you, no questions asked.
Yoongi feels your gaze and turns his head, his eyes meeting yours in the flickering light. For a fleeting second, the rest of the campsite seems to fade away. You swallow the sudden lump of warmth in your throat and tear your eyes away from him, looking back at Hobi and the rest of the waiting faces around the fire.
A small, gentle smile tugs at your lips.
"I don't know," you say softly, the firelight catching the small, genuine smile on your face. You look around the circle, Jin still holding his prized tongs, Namjoon's freshly discarded clipboard, Jungkook’s marshmallow-sticky fingers, and Yura’s head resting comfortably on your shoulder.
"Honestly," you continue, your voice carrying clearly over the gentle crackle of the burning logs, "I think there are probably just too many to choose from."
A collective, soft murmur of agreement ripples through the group.
"Spoken like a true intellectual," Jin says, though for once, his voice lacks its usual dramatic flair, replaced instead by a deep, affectionate warmth. He points his tongs at you approvingly. "Why settle for one when you used to have an entire vault of ridiculous stories starring us?"
"Like the time Hobi knocked down our tent because there was a lightning bug in there with us," Jungkook chimes in instantly, his eyes lighting up as he points his roasting stick at Hobi. “You had to catch it for him and release the scary thing back into the wild.”
"I did not knock it down. You didn't put it up right!" Hobi protests as he throws a marshmallow at Jungkook’s head. "And it was very aggressive. It tried to bite me!"
"It was a firefly. It didn't even have teeth," Jimin clarifies. "But Y/N did have to rescue you. She trapped it in an empty soda can and marched it out into the woods."
A chorus of laughter erupts around the circle. You lean back against the bench, the warmth of the fire seeping through your clothes. You don't remember the beetle, and you don't remember the collapsing tent, but looking at Hobi’s dramatic defensive gestures and Jimin’s teasing grin, you can see the scene play out perfectly anyway.
Above you, the sky stretches endlessly, crowded with stars. You glance sideways.
Yoongi was staring into the flames, coffee mug balanced loosely between both hands.
"What?" He asks suddenly.
"What?" You blink.
"You've been staring at me for like thirty seconds," he says.
"I have not." You shake your head.
"You have." He nods.
"I was thinking," you say.
"About me." A tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
You laugh quietly. The sound seemed to please him. For a few moments, you both watch the fire again.
"Thank you." You whisper and Yoongi's gaze shifts toward you. "For today. I'm happy I came."
"You don't have to thank me." His expression softens immediately.
"I know," you say.
"Then stop doing it." He smirks.
"Hey! Look!" Taehyung’s sudden, ecstatic shout shatters the moment, pointing a long finger toward the clearing just beyond the trees. "The fireflies are back! Hobi, look out, they're organizing a counter-attack!"
"TAEHYUNG, STOP!" Hobi shrieks, nearly falling backward out of his folding chair as Jungkook starts making tiny, aggressive buzzing noises right in his ear.
The campsite immediately devolves into absolute chaos once more. Next to you, Yura lets out a loud, ringing laugh, her eyes meeting yours, bright and entirely free of the guilt that had weighed her down that morning. You smile back at her, leaning your head against Yoongi’s shoulder as he lets out a quiet, affectionate groan at the circus unfolding in front of you.
The soft glow of the twilight-blue LEDs casts long, dreamy shadows across the interior of RV #1. Outside, the crickets are a steady pulse in the dark, and the crackle of the campfire has finally died down to glowing embers.
Inside the cabin, everything is technically perfect. Jungkook had proudly unveiled the "gaming zone" loft bed, which Taehyung had successfully compromised on by setting his telescope up in the small corner window, its lens pointing toward a gap in the pine canopy. Yura is already curled up in the lower double bed, a plush blanket pulled up to her chin, looking sleepy and content.
You are sitting on the edge of the mattress across from her, your knees pulled into your chest.
The bed is incredibly comfortable. The sheets are crisp, the pillows are thick, and the steady hum of the RV’s climate control is supposed to be soothing. But every time you try to lie down, a strange, restless friction ripples under your skin. You shift to your left side. Then your right. You fluff the pillow. You flatten it.
Your mind is quiet, but your muscles are tightly coiled with a phantom tension you can’t quite figure out.
A floorboard creaks softly.
Jungkook, who had been quietly organizing a stack of Nintendo Switch controllers at the small table, pauses. He looks over his shoulder, his eyes tracking your restless movements in the blue light. Up in the loft, Taehyung leans his head over the edge of the mattress, his dark hair messy, his expression unusually observant.
Yura blinks her eyes open, shifting her gaze from the ceiling to your tense silhouette.
Nobody speaks for a moment. The three of them just look at you, then their eyes slowly meet one another’s in a silent, unspoken realization. A heavy, knowing understanding passes between Jungkook and Taehyung, a quiet dialogue that ends with Jungkook giving a subtle nod.
Yura slowly props herself up on one elbow, the fabric of her sleeping bag rustling in the quiet cabin.
"You can't get comfortable, can you?" She asks and you let out a frustrated, breathless sigh, dropping your forehead against your knees.
"I don't know what's wrong with me. The bed is fine. I'm exhausted. But my body just... it won't settle. It feels like I'm waiting for something, or like I forgot to lock a door," you tell them.
"Body memory is a weird thing, Y/N. The brain forgets, but the skin remembers." Taehyung rests his chin on his arms, looking down from the loft.
Yura offers you a small, wistful smile, her eyes shimmering with a deep warmth. She slides her legs out of her bed and moves to sit on the edge of yours, placing a gentle hand on your ankle.
"Well..." Yura begins softly, her thumb rubbing against the fabric of your sweatpants. "Maybe it's because you've never actually slept in RV #1 before."
"What do you mean?" You blink, looking up at her through the dim blue light.
"When you camped with us," Yura explains. "You didn't sleep with me." She glances up at Jungkook, who gives a small, encouraging smile. "Normally... you would sleep next to Yoongi in whatever RV we had then or even the same tent before that.”
The breath hitches in your throat. The cabin suddenly feels very still.
"You two were together, Y/N," Yura says gently. "Your body knows he's here. It knows he's just a few yards away in that other vehicle. It's used to his weight on the mattress, his warmth, the sound of his breathing. Right now, your system is probably wondering why he isn't there next to you."
Your heart thumps heavily against your ribs. Suddenly, the phantom restlessness makes sense. She was right. You don't know why you didn't think of that before. Taking a deep breath you slide out of bed.
"Y/N?" Yura murmurs, her eyes widening slightly as she watches you immediately reach for your oversized hoodie resting on the edge of the stool.
"I'm going to RV #3," you say. Your voice was surprisingly steady, devoid of the frantic panic from this morning. “I'm going to Yoongi.”
Jungkook freezes, a Nintendo Switch controller hovering mid-air. Up in the loft, Taehyung sits up completely, his head nearly bumping the low ceiling. A heavy silence falls over the three of them, replacing the casual warmth from a moment before.
"Wait, Y/N, hold on," Jungkook says quickly, setting the controller down with a soft click. He stands up, his large frame blocking the narrow aisle of the RV, his expression shifting into something intensely serious. "You don't have to go over there just because of what Yura said. Seriously."
"Yeah," Taehyung chimes . "If you're going because you feel like you have to, or because you think it's a rule you're supposed to follow... don't. You stay right here. We can change the lights, we can turn off the AC, I'll even give you my silk pillowcase. You don't have to force yourself into a memory you aren't ready for."
Yura stands up, her hand instantly finding your shoulder, her grip gentle but firm.
"Y/N, look at me. I shouldn't have put that on you. Just because that's how things used to be doesn't mean you have to rush into it tonight. Yoongi would be furious with us if he thought we were pressuring you. You're safe here. You can sleep right next to me," she tells you.
You look at the three of them. They are standing guard around you, fiercely protective of your comfort, willing to rewrite years of history just to ensure you don't feel forced into a corner.
A soft, breathless laugh escapes your lips, instantly breaking the heavy tension in the air.
"Guys," you say gently, placing your hand over Yura’s. "I don't feel pressured. I promise."
You look past Jungkook toward the dark window, where the silhouette of RV #3 sat quietly beneath the pine trees.
"I'm not going because of a rule, or because I feel like I have to," you explain, your eyes softening as you look back at your friends. "I'm going because I can't sleep. And... I think Yura is right. My brain might not fully remember yet, but my body knows exactly where it's supposed to be. I want to go."
Jungkook searches your face for a long, silent moment. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melted away, replaced by that familiar, sweet smile. He steps aside, clearing the path to the door.
"Okay," Jungkook murmurs softly. "But if he snores, or if it's too quiet in there, you come right back. The gaming zone is always open."
"And take my flashlight," Taehyung adds, tossing a small, sleek cylinder down from the loft. "The gravel is uneven out there." Jungkook catches it and presses it into your hand.
"Go on. Get some sleep, Y/N." Yura squeezes your arm one last time.
"Goodnight," you whisper, clicking the flashlight on.
The gravel crunches softly under your shoes. The camp is settled now, the embers of the fire casting a final glow against the base of the pine trees.
As you approach the door of RV #3, your nerves flare up again, a sharp contrast to the steady certainty you had felt just moments ago inside the other vehicle. You reach out, your fingers hovering over the cold metal handle, before deciding to knock softly. Three light taps.
The lock clicks almost instantly. The heavy door swings inward, and instead of the quiet darkness you expected, a warm interior light spills out onto the grass.
Jimin stands in the doorway with a toothbrush hanging loosely from his mouth, and a towel slung over his shoulder. He freezes, his eyes widening in total surprise as he looks down at you, then down at the flashlight in your hand. He takes the toothbrush out of his mouth, an incredibly radiant smile breaking across his face.
"Y/N?" Jimin whispers. He steps back into the cabin, opening the door wider to let you in and out of the chill. "What are you doing over here? Did Jungkook’s spaceship underglow give you a migraine?"
"No," you say softly, stepping into the warm air of the quiet zone. You rub your arms, suddenly feeling a little shy under his perceptive gaze. "I just... I couldn't get comfortable over there."
Jimin smiles, understanding dawning on him instantly. He doesn't say a single word to make you feel self-conscious. Instead, he just gives your shoulder a gentle, encouraging squeeze as you pass him.
"I'm glad you came over," he murmurs, pointing a thumb toward the back of the RV. "Go on."
You toe off your shoes and walk down the narrow carpeted aisle of RV #3. The vehicle was completely peaceful, living up to its reputation. At the very back, the master curtain was pulled half-open.
Yoongi is sitting up against the headboard of the bed, a book resting in his lap, his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looks like he hasn't even attempted to sleep yet. The moment your silhouette appears in the doorway, his head snaps up.
He stills.
Yoongi’s dark eyes widen behind his glasses in a look of pure shock. He looks at you, then past you toward Jimin, who was currently standing near the front kitchenette, giving him a highly amused, thumbs-up before slipping into the small bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.
"Y/N..." He quickly takes off his glasses, setting them and the book onto the nightstand. He shifts, his legs swinging over the edge of the mattress as he stares at you through the dim light. "What... what's wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen in RV1?"
"Nothing happened," you say softly, taking a few steps closer until you were standing at the foot of his bed. "I just couldn't sleep. It felt like I was missing something."
Yoongi doesn't move, his breath hitching in his chest as he looks up at you, his sharp gaze tracing the lines of your face, looking for any sign of distress.
"Y/N, you don't have to stay here if it's too much. If they told you something that made you feel pressured…" he starts but you cut him off.
"Yoongi," you interrupt gently, stepping around the edge of the bed until your knees lightly brush against the mattress beside him. "They didn't pressure me. They actually tried to stop me from coming because they didn't want me to feel forced. But I wanted to come."
You look down at your hands, then back up into his dark, searching eyes.
He lets out a long, shaky breath, a tiny, incredibly soft smile finally tugging at the corners of his lips. He looks down for a fraction of a second, a silent, breathless laugh escaping him, before he looks back up at you.
Without another word, he slides backward onto the mattress, reaching out to pull the heavy, plush comforter back. He doesn't pull you in, and he doesn't rush the moment. He simply opens up the space beside him, leaving the choice entirely up to you.
You slide under the heavy comforter, the sudden shift from the chilly cabin air to the deep warmth of his bed making a soft sigh escape your lips. Yoongi lets the blanket fall back over you both, and then, almost instantly, a heavy, comical stillness settles over the mattress.
You both lie flat on your backs, staring straight up at the ceiling of the RV. You are as stiff as a board, your hands clamped tightly over your stomach, your shoulders tight. Beside you, Yoongi is equally frozen, staring fixedly upward, his arms pinned straight down at his sides. The mattress is completely motionless.
It was awkward.
You blink at the dark ceiling, the phantom tension under your skin still humming, though for a completely different reason now.
"Yoongi?" You ask, your voice deadpan and completely serious in the quiet cabin.
"Yeah?" He responds, his voice just as flat, not moving a single muscle.
"Is this how we always slept?" You question.
A beat passes. Then, Yoongi lets out a low, breathy chuckle that bounces softly off the walls. He finally turns his head on the pillow, looking at your stiff silhouette with a highly amused smirk.
"No," he says softly, his voice dropping into a deeper, warmer register. "Not even close."
"Then how did we sleep?" You turn your head to look back at him, shifting just a fraction.
"Usually?" Yoongi's smirk softens into something incredibly tender, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "You slept practically on top of me. Your leg thrown over mine, your face buried right into my neck, using my shoulder as a second pillow. I usually couldn't move my arm for the first twenty minutes after waking up."
You blink, genuinely trying to picture it. You look down at his chest, then back to his face. "Wouldn't that be uncomfortable for you? I mean... I don't exactly feel weightless, and you're not exactly a mattress." You look at him.
"I loved it," he says. The response is so immediate, so entirely devoid of hesitation or doubt. Yoongi finally breaks his rigid posture. He reaches out, his broad, warm hand catching your waist, and with a gentle tug, he pulls you flush against his side. He shifts his weight, rolling back onto his back to accommodate you, his movements so fluid and instinctive it’s as if his body is simply executing a routine it has performed a thousand times before.
Your breath hitches as you slide over, your chest resting against his, your hand automatically finding a home on his steady shoulder. Your nose presses into the familiar, comforting scent of his dark sweatshirt and clean skin.
Instantly, the tight, coiled spring of restlessness inside your muscles completely unravels. The phantom tension vanishes, replaced by a sense of safety. Your body sinks into his warmth with a deep, involuntary sigh, your muscles melting as if a missing puzzle piece has finally been locked into place. Your nervous system quietens completely. Yura had been right. Your brain didn't have the memories, but your skin knew exactly who this was.
Yoongi’s arm wraps securely around your back, his large hand resting flat between your shoulder blades, anchoring you to him. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, his heartbeat steady in the quiet night.
You stay like that for a long, peaceful moment, just listening to the sound of his breathing. The quiet zone of the RV is entirely still, isolating the two of you from the rest of the world, from the fog in your mind, and from the chaotic excitement of the camp outside.
Slowly, you push yourself up just a fraction, sliding your hands up to his shoulders so you can look down at his face. Yoongi looks up at you through the dim light, his expression open, vulnerable, and entirely yours. There is no expectation in his eyes, no pressure…just a quiet patience that makes your heart ache.
"Goodnight, Yoongi," you whisper softly.
Before he can answer, you lean down and press your lips gently to his.
The kiss is soft, lingering, and warm. It's a quiet promise of the future overriding the blank spaces of the past. As you pull back, Yoongi's hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your hairline as he offers you a tiny, breathtakingly sweet smile.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispers back.
You settle back down against his chest, burying your face into his neck just the way he described. His arm tightens around you, holding you close against the chill of the wilderness, and for the first time since you woke up in that hospital bed, you fall into a deep, dreamless, and perfectly settled sleep.
✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x plus-size!female Reader
✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: Worst thing just happened to you, actually. You accidentally play a sexy audiobook out loud in the office. Thankfully, everyone assumes you just put someone on speaker. But things get complicated when you discover that the voice everyone heard might belong to the aloof IT guy at work… who happens to live a double life as Agust D, your favorite erotica narrator.
✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: fluff, smut, humor, non-idol, office romance (shocker!)
✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, voice kink, eventual smut...
✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter Warnings: 18+ only. MDNI. Yoongi in a white t-shirt (yep, that's a warning), JK is an idiot, Jay also has a secret life??, smut, kissing, fingering, yoongi loves titties, yoongi cums in his pants <3
✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 6.4k 🔥
✎ ˎˊ˗ Betaread by: @tea4sykes
✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Happy Festa, ARMY! <3 And happy 3k followers to this blog! Let this be my offering to the k-pop gods for blessing me a seat to BTS in Bulacan Day 3. ✨
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Steve is still talking.
“Going forward,” Steve continues, voice rising with conviction, “I expect precision. If we can’t get the basics right, we might as well be monkeys.”
You nod once, like this is a completely reasonable use of everyone’s time, like you are deeply invested in his new policies to facilitate proper restroom decorum.
You are not.
You shift in your seat, already dissociating when you feel the heat of someone’s gaze. Fixed on you like glue.
You glance sideways and mhmm, Yoongi. Sunk into his chair like he couldn’t care less about anything happening in front because his eyes are locked on you.
Why is he… manspreading like he pays everyone’s salaries here?
You look away quickly, heat creeping up your neck, and turn your phone over from your lap.
You: is there something on my face?
YG.M: you didnt answer my text
You: cry about it 😛
YG.M: careful
You: pay attention to steve
YG.M: boring
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. When you look at him across from you, there’s a shit-eating grin now sitting pretty on his face. You text him back.
You: why u lookin smug tho?
YG.M: you really wanna know
You: i wouldn’t have asked
YG.M: i love knowing you get off on my voice
Fuck?! You drop your phone.
“Shit,” you breathe out.
A couple of your colleagues turn their heads, wincing when they realize you dropped your expensive Galaxy smartphone.
“Sorry, sorry, it’s okay,” you mumble quickly. Before you can bend to retrieve it, JK has already done it for you.
“Who you textin’?” JK whispers when everyone else has their attention back on the presentation.
“Nobody.”
“Nah. Don’t play.” He snickers, then, without another word, flips his notebook open and with the pen previously hanging from his ear, starts doodling on the corner.
You try to ignore him, you really do, because you have a feeling that whatever he is drawing is gonna be–
Oh what the fuck.
It’s a word you don’t quite read clearly but beside it, a shockingly detailed looking penis! Hairy balls and all!
You blink at him. Once. Twice. OMFG.
JK ducks his head between his knees, shaking as he tries to quiet his giggles.
You are horrified, but you stay still to not direct more attention to the two of you. This boy is sososososo stupid. How he scored a corporate job, you actually have no idea. Maybe he included a link to his thirst-trappy Tiktok in his resume.
“What is wrong with you,” you mouth when JK finally resurfaces, still red in the face.
He tilts his notebook to show you his “diagram” in full glory. There’s the word August and it’s beside a… yup, that.
JK grins, “Get it? Agust dick?”
You choke. Actually choke. You grab your tumbler, sipping aggressively before coughing into your fist. JK has the audacity to pat your back like a concerned colleague.
Steve pauses mid-sentence for half a second, zooming in on you before continuing. “…as I was saying…”
You sink lower into your seat. You hate it here. You especially hate JK. And Yoongi, too.
Your phone buzzes again. Fuck.
YG.M: u ok?
You inhale sharply, placing your phone screen down on your lap because you can’t handle this. These two are tag-teaming you in the worst way possible right now and you will not survive it.
Yoongi won’t leave you alone though. You can feel his cat-like eyes clawing into your line of vision.
You: quit it 😭
YG.M: you still thinking bout it?
You: shut up
YG.M: make me
Your entire body locks up.
Beside you, JK quietly adds more hair to his cartoon dick.
You physically cannot stay a second longer, so you slip out before Steve can say “toilet” again. Which is where you end up hiding for most of the townhall until someone eventually knocks.
“Y/N, you in there?”
Yoongi.
Of fucking course.
“Yeah…” you respond.
“You good?”
You crack the door open, check the hallway, and when the coast is clear, you grab his necktie and pull him in.
A wry smile tugs at his lips as he allows himself to be dragged inside, watching the door shut and lock with a soft whirr. “You okay? You were choking pretty hard back there.”
“Blame your cartoon dick,” you mumble lowly.
“What?”
You ignore the crease between his brows. “I”m fine. Why are you here?”
“I was concerned.”
You narrow your eyes at him, unconvinced. “We just got an earful about restroom etiquette. I don’t think this is it.”
Yoongi’s shoulders bob as he chuckles silently. “You’re the one who pulled me in and now made this whole thing very sus.”
“Fuck.” He’s right. You hope no one spots you when you eventually get out. But you don’t let him get away with that. You need to maintain that this is his fault, not yours.
You huff indignantly, folding your arms on your chest. “Well you’re the one who’s been looking at me like…”
“Like what…?” he prompts, tone a little soft.
“Like you wanna eat me.”
“Well…” the corner of his mouth lifts. “Maybe I do?”
You shake your head at him, failing to hide the giddy smile that is threatening to spread on your face. Ah fuck it. This is so undeniable. You want him. He wants you. You’re in a locked room. Why are you still holding back?
Heels clicking against tile, you close the very small gap between your bodies but why are his palms on your shoulders, holding you in place?
Yoongi leans in so your faces are inches apart, eyes level. “Need to ask you something first.”
Your eyes fixate on his mouth as he speaks. Lips soft and plump and pink. You’ve stared at them for a while now and you’ve always wondered how they’d feel against your own.
You surprise yourself with the command in your tone. “Ask it. Then, kiss me.”
A warm, amused exhale grazes your cheek. “Want me to kiss you, hmm? In this shitty toilet?” He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, cupping your jaw gently. “Or do you want it when I can take my time with you?”
There’s almost nothing between you now. Just a sliver of space that feels criminal. One move and it’s gone. You want it—god, you do—but not like this. Not rushed. And not here beside the fucking bidet.
“The second,” you mumble, grey matter still mush.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, before slowly pulling away.
He doesn’t really stray that far and without thinking, your hands move to his chest, straightening the tie you’d bent out of shape when you pulled him in.
You smooth the fabric down, fingertips brushing over the firm planes beneath. The tiniest smile forms on his lips but it’s enough to make you swoon.
“Give me a second. I’ll text Jay, so we can get outta here...” He fishes out his phone from his pocket, eyes soft and almost fond. Yours probably look the same.
After a few minutes, there’s a knock and a voice. “It’s me.”
You emerge and the cool A/C air hits your skin, dousing the earlier heat from inside.
“You kids had fun?” Jay quips when you emerge, patting Yoongi on the shoulder.
Yoongi completely ignores him, pace quickening towards the lifts, then he’s gone like the wind.
You also take that as your cue to briskwalk the other way, while Jay’s giggles echo across the now empty corridor.
You find yourself on the phone with Yoongi quite often. This is the fourth time this week. You haven’t really done anything crazy, not like the last time. But you have talked a lot.
Although you’ve heard his voice many times before from your app and his corporate tone in the office, this normal version is even more soothing. Especially when every word is meant for you, even if the things he says are mundane.
“Fuuuuck,” Yoongi groans. “Tang just shat on the rug!”
You giggle as you hear Yoongi’s faraway voice cussing in the background, while a cat purrs an argument back at him.
A different voice takes over. “Hey, seatmate.”
Mhm. “What do you want, Jay?”
Ever since the toilet incident, Jay has become friendlier with you. Less judging, more teasing.
“Yoongi just rawdogged Tang’s fecal matter by the way,” Jay narrates with a shudder.
“I didn't need to know that.” You say, adjusting your ear buds on one ear as you close the fridge door with your hip.
“Well what do you want to know then?”
“Nothing…?”
“Hmm. I don’t believe you.”
“What?”
Jay giggles. “You’ve been talking to Yoongi every night this week and it’s almost the weekend...”
“Okay??”
“So aren’t you coming over instead?”
Your entire face heats instantly so you take a sip of water. “Are you wingmanning him right now?”
“He’s not always as smooth as you think,” Jay snorts.
“Oh, FUCK—” A loud crash echoes somewhere in their apartment. You can hear Yoongi’s loud shriek.
“What the hell is going on there?”
Jay is howling in laughter. “Tang–zoomies–poop everywhere…”
In the background, Yoongi yells: “WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?”
You can’t help but laugh along with Jay, the mirth in his voice making you feel warm, too. Honestly, this might be the most affection you’ve ever felt for two men and a cat.
It’s obvious though that the cat-astrophe needs to be dealt with pronto. “I should probably go. Good luck with that,” you manage between giggles. “Tell Yoongi I’ll see him tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Jay says, still giggling. “Night, seatmate.”
Then, farther away: “Tell her I said bye!”
“Switching to speaker,” Jay says.
“Bye Yoongi,” you say and end the call with the dumbest grin on your face. You peel off your collagen sheet mask that’s practically dry on your face now, and call it a night.
You expect Jay and Yoongi’s apartment to be nice. But not whatever this is.
“You live here?” you ask as Yoongi shuts the door, the automatic lock beeping after him.
He shrugs once, serious. “No, I actually sleep in the server room at work. Just here to fix Jay’s wi-fi.”
“Ha-ha.” You deadpan, but any snark dies the second you really step in. Because this is money money. Like porn industry money. Does Yoongi make bank in Echo? Now you’re a little curious.
The flat is massive. Every piece of furniture looks carefully curated from the cream-coloured sectional to dark wood accents and sleek appliances that are probably linked to an app.
Mikro Tech absolutely cannot be paying enough for them to live like Tony Stark.
“What the hell,” you mumble under your breath as you point to an entire shelf of rare bearbricks decorating one entire wall. There’s a Louis Vuitton KAWS and a bedazzled one that also looks dope as hell.
Yoongi shrugs like none of this is remotely shocking. “Jay is a bearbricks collector.”
“Uh, yeah, I can see that,” you reply, still in shock.
“You want one?” He says as you continue to admire the lot. He even has a Barbie limited edition.
“He’d notice if one disappeared,” Yoongi says thoughtfully. “But not immediately.”
You shake your head. “That’s a staggering amount of money on one corner of your house, Yoongi.”
“Jay has a lot of side quests.” Yoongi explains vaguely.
“Alright,” you nod, thinking you don’t really want to press him for details about this eccentric friend. “Where is he anyway?”
“Not here.” His eyes immediately land on you and the grin that spreads across his face is immediate and deeply annoying. “It’s just you and me.”
You nod dumbly, heartbeat going haywire with what he just said.
Yoongi walks toward the kitchen. “You eat yet?” he asks over his shoulder. Truth is you were too nervous when you made plans with him for after-hours drinks. You also wanted to ensure you fit comfortably in this cute little dress you picked out, so you skipped dinner.
“Sort of?”
“Mm. That means no.”
“Oh,” you remember something when you see the jar of kibbles on a marble counter. “Where’s the infamous Tang?”
“Jay has him.” Yoongi says quickly. “Like I said, it’s just us.”
Us.
Two letters that got your brain spinning out as he leads you to the kitchen. He takes off the gray sweater he has on, leaving the white undershirt that clings to his chest and arms in the most delectable way possible. It’s over for you.
A few minutes later, you’re watching Yoongi make dinner. Based on what he’s laid out, he is about to serve you kimchi fried rice. Simple dish but a crowd favorite. There’s another tupperware with a dark brown marinade, unmistakably bulgogi waiting to be transferred to the cast iron pan he’s placed over the fire.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s a good cook. He’s moving around the kitchen with confidence and familiarity and as a home cook yourself, you’re very impressed.
“Didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you remark.
He gives you a look. “I’m great at it, actually.”
“Hm. I’ll be the judge of that.”
He huffs out a laugh over the sizzle of the pan.
Eventually, Yoongi pushes a bowl of rice towards you, garnishes it with seaweed and sesame seeds. Then he tops it with a fried egg, edges crisp and golden, straight from the pan.
The bulgogi follows soon after, glossy with marinade and still crackling from the heat. It’s stupidly good. Savory, sweet, smoky. Fried with just the right amount of char.
“Okay,” you say after the second bite, pressing a napkin on your lips. “You pass.”
Yoongi blows at his knuckles and wipes it off his shirt, entirely pleased with himself.
“Here.” You hold out your spoon to him, bit of yolked rice and beef, the perfect bite. He accepts it with a smile.
And god, this is so fuckin’ nice. Being with him in his home. Laughing and bantering over an aromatic meal. The domesticity is not suffocating at all. Just sweet and comfortable. You could get used to this.
After you finish eating, Yoongi gives you a little house tour, and every room somehow looks like it belongs in an architectural digest. These two are loaded, no doubt.
The balcony alone is ridiculous, all glass railings and a sprawling view of the city Seoul glittering below. They have a small lounge setup there, wicker chairs and a glass table with an ash tray in between. A barbeque grill is off to the side and you highly suspect Yoongi is good at that, too.
Inside, the entertainment setup is equally obscene. A massive television takes up nearly an entire wall, surrounded by towering speakers and neatly stacked gaming consoles from every era.
“You guys are such nerds,” you say with barely controlled lust.
“Jay bought most of that,” Yoongi explains. “Our friends like to hang out here once in a while.”
“I thought you didn’t have friends.”
“I don’t like people. But people like me.” He shrugs with a bracket-like grin. “I’m cute.”
You shake your head, hella endeared even if you don’t want to let it show lest it gets to his head.
“Is this them?” You spot a small framed picture of Yoongi and Jay, with two tall, also good-looking guys flanking them.
“Yeah, that’s Jin and Joon.”
You hum, still studying the pic. College dorm party for sure with the way they are holding solo cups as red as Jay’s face.
“Gonna give me their number or what?”
The wry laugh that huffs out of him... Oh you may be in trouble for that little quip.
“Mm. Which one?”
“Both. I’m greedy.”
Another “Mm.”
The hole you’re digging is getting deeper.
“Whatever you want.” He says cryptically and you follow him to another room.
His. It’s surprisingly simple. Clean. A single hoodie tossed over a chair. A diffuser humming softly near the window.
The bed is enormous. He’s mentioned that he takes sleep very seriously and it shows. Dark sheets beneath a thick comforter, oversized pillows stacked neatly against the headboard like the kind of bed where you already know you’d bounce a little if he threw you onto it before god knows what.
Then your eyes drift upward. One of the bedposts has a scarf loosely tied around it.
Hmm.
You clear your throat, suddenly very interested in literally anything else in the room. Because that’s not purely decorative and you damn well know it.
Behind you, a quiet puff of amusement escapes Yoongi before he lightly taps the doorframe.
“C’mon,” he says. “I wanna show you something else.”
He leads you down a short hallway toward another room, sliding a ‘Recording in Progress’ sign into place before pushing the door open with a small nod.
“Is this where the magic happens?” you ask, realizing this is probably his studio.
He gestures to you to enter first. “We’ll see…”
Oh the recording setup is insane.
He’s got this massive monitor against one wall while microphones, mixers, and headphones sit arranged with meticulous care across the desk. Acoustic panels line the walls and soft ambient lighting makes the whole room feel quite intimate.
He can’t just be doing audio book recordings with all this because, wow, this is state-of-the-art music equipment.
“So this is where Agust D lives?” you muse, taking everything in.
Yoongi pushes off against the doorway. “Unfortunately.”
The door clicks behind him.
There are printed scripts scattered nearby, pages full of highlighted notes and scribbled annotations in Yoongi’s handwriting. He has annotations on where he needs to speak faster, or slower, or lower. He also has comments on how certain passages should feel.
“You really take this seriously.”
You feel his palms against your shoulders, pressing his thumb along your traps and there’s an immediate rush of satisfaction there as he kneads it lightly.
“I like doing things right,” he says. And if he meant something else by that. Well.
He motions you toward the couch tucked into the corner of the room. “Sit.”
You obey immediately, smoothing your dress as you take a seat.
Yoongi settles into his computer chair and swivels toward the monitor, pulling on his headphones on his neck before glancing back at you. “I’ve got new material to record tonight.”
Your eyes light up instantly. “Seriously?”
A small smile tugs at his mouth at your excitement. “Yeah… Thought you’d want to see the behind the scenes?”
“Okay,” you answer meekly. “Sure.”
Yoongi clears his throat once, eyes flicking toward the script, and you shift with anticipation. You curl deeper into the couch, heart fluttering wildly in your chest, because getting a private recording session with Agust D was not in your bingo card.
But you thank your lucky stars that you’re right here right now.
Fifteen minutes later, well… it’s not been great. But honestly, you had this coming.
There’s a dampness between your thighs that’s gotten increasingly unbearable with every passage he reads, every subtle shift in his tone, every low rasp that settles straight into your pussy instead of your ears.
And the worst part?
Of course he knows what this shit does to you.
You can tell by the way his eyes keep drifting toward you over the edge of the script, watching every little reaction you fail to hide.
“The way she looked at him,” Yoongi reads smoothly, fingers lazily tapping against the desk, “like she already knew she’d let him ruin her…”
Your thighs press together instinctively. His gaze drops down and a slow smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.
Fuck.
He keeps going.
“He slid his hand higher beneath her skirt,” he says, voice dropping lower now, softer, “touching her soft, luscious thighs, squeezing them, seeing if she would tremble for him again.”
You’re trembling, too. And the asshole notices. You can barely see the mischief in his lips behind the pop filter, but his feline eyes betray him.
“Yoongi,” you mutter weakly.
“Yeah?” he asks innocently.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Hm.” He adjusts slightly in his chair. “Doing what?”
You can’t even answer because he starts reading again before you get the chance, and now you're 10,000% sure this is punishment for the stupid joke you made about his two friends.
“She tried to stay quiet,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours now instead of the script entirely, “but every sound he pulled from her only got more and more desperate until she couldn't take it anymore...”
Beads of sweat are dappling your neck and you swipe it with the back of your palm.
You shift deeper into the couch, pulse (and something down south) beating wildly as Yoongi watches you with incredible stoicism, like he’s studying exactly how far he can push you before you snap.
And honestly? You’re getting criminally close.
Although your throat is so dry, you lick your lips, waiting with bated breath to hear the next line, when Yoongi pauses, swinging the mic to the side.
“Ah. This line is always tricky,” Yoongi says casually, reaching for a pen to scribble notes onto the script. “But it’s important.”
Your voice comes out weaker than intended. “What is it?”
He lifts his eyes towards you with unmistakable intention.
“Do you think I should say this slower… Like with short breaths in between?” His voice drops immediately into performance mode. “‘Come… for… me…’” Each word is drawn out carefully, breath catching softly between syllables.
Mayday!!!
Your stomach flips violently.
Then, without missing a beat, his tone changes entirely.
“Maybe it should be more commanding? Like…” His eyes stay locked on yours, words dripping from his lips like syrup. “‘Come for me.’”
Holy fuck!
You physically feel heat crawl up your neck and choke you like vines. Because both versions work horrifically well. Diabolical how clinical he’s pretending to be about it, like he’s asking for genuine artistic feedback and not saying the exact kind of shit that could ruin your ability to form coherent thoughts for the rest of the night.
You’re staring at him, mouth agape. Maybe this is what he wants in the first place.
Yoongi notices immediately and a tiny smile threatens at the corner of his mouth as he taps a pen lightly against his chin. “Well?”
“I think,” you say carefully, voice embarrassingly thin. “You should stop looking at me when you say things like that.”
He hums, completely unhelpful. “You don’t like it?”
“Yoongi.” You chastise, even though you wish he’d do the things he’s read to you instead of mocking you from two feet away.
“Okay,” he raises both hands up in surrender. “I’ll switch it up.”
You sigh, nostrils flaring as he rifles through the pages of the script like he’s looking for something in particular.
It’s definitely a more subdued scene he decided to read while you take your time to catch your breath, sipping on the water bottle that he handed you earlier.
The sequence is about a couple on a romantic date. Their conversation is cute, the banter reminiscent of a romantic comedy. Soon, you were getting into the plot. You giggle softly at the well written banter. As the couple gets deeper into their night, it becomes apparent that the male character finally wants to make his confession.
Yoongi’s eyes lift from the script and it goes straight to you again.
“The truth is,” he reads quietly, voice gentle, “I knew I was done for when talking to you started becoming the best part of my day. And well, I’m hoping it’s become yours, too.”
You gulp.
Why is he looking at you like that?
Maybe you’re projecting. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. But suddenly it doesn’t feel like he’s reading dialogue anymore. It feels like he’s saying it to you. And if you’re really being honest with yourself? Talking to him has become the best part of your day, too.
So before you can think better of it, you go.
You push yourself off the couch and cross the room in quick strides until you’re standing right in front of him, heart on your sleeve.
Yoongi’s mouth parts in a cute O-shape and he barely has time to pull the headphones down around his neck before your hands cup his face and your lips press firmly against his.
For one charged second, he goes still.
Then he kisses you back. Hard. Jaw flexing under your nervous hands as he opens his mouth and his tongue immediately finds its way inside, curling against yours.
You taste him, finally, still sweet from the spoonful of honey he had before recording, and the thought you’re savoring the flavor from him makes you spiral.
One hand slides around the back of your neck while the other settles against your waist, pulling you closer until your thighs bump against the arms of his chair.
“Yoongi, stop…” you straighten. “The chair might give.”
“It won’t,” he says instantly, distracted, already kissing you again before the sentence fully lands. But the chair creaks ominously beneath the shift of your weight and you pull back with wide eyes.
“Couch,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” he exhales quickly. “Okay. Fuck.”
The curse slips out under his breath before he’s surging to his feet and your lips collide again, desperate and uncoordinated, because apparently now that you know how it feels, neither of you can wait longer than three seconds without devouring each other.
Yoongi drops onto the cushions, silently urging you over to him. This time, you’re not thinking twice. You straddle his lap, skirt fanning across his pants to hide the utter filth between your legs.
Slowly you settle down, your core resting against his center, and you think there’s no use being shy now. Not when the moist heat from your panties is sure to seep into his gray sweats. Not when the second your weight presses against him, Yoongi’s head falls back against the couch with a shaky exhale, Adam's apple prominent as he swallows.
So that catches your attention immediately.
Because suddenly he doesn’t look smooth anymore. He looks affected. By you.
Yoongi’s hands spread over your thighs underneath your skirt, glides up towards the curve of your hips before traveling towards your ass, lingering there, squeezing, coaxing you to roll forward.
“Jesus…” he breathes, eyes falling shut briefly. “You feel so good.”
“Mm.” You moan with a push of your hips.
Fingers pass through your strands before he pulls you back in and your mouths crash against each other. You don’t care that you bump noses, or that your teeth knock accidentally.
Making out with Yoongi turns pathetically messy fast. Yoongi chases you every time your mouth puckers and parts from his by even an inch. Soft pulls at your bottom lip one second, then sharp, almost bruising pressure the next that the constant switch makes your thoughts come apart.
His hands roam restlessly along your skin, thumbs stroking slowly over the softness at your waist, fingertips digging gently into your hips.
After a while, his slick mouth slows down deceptively, before the scrape of his teeth against your plush draws a whine out of you. He passes his tongue over it to soothe the sting, perfectly soft and warm and sinful.
“Been thinking ‘bout this,” he smiles against your lips before moving to kiss the underside of your jaw. “Been thinking about how I’m gonna ruin you.”
Fuck. Yoongi’s good. Too good at this. The way he kisses is making you feel dizzy and the way he touches is making you wild that you don’t realize that you’ve been grinding hard against him until you hear him grunt when the hard tip of his cock pokes your clothed cunt.
Sweat is accumulating on your back, temperature rising between both of you. You briefly wonder why your clothes are still on, but if you’ll be honest, the alternative scares you.
Yoongi’s hands slip beneath your cardigan, easing it off your shoulders carefully before tossing it on the arm rest of the couch. The cool air against your heated skin feels nice at first, until awareness crashes in right after it.
Your arms.
Instinctively, you want to fold into yourself a little, suddenly hyperaware of how big they are uncovered like this. You’ve spent years hiding them beneath sleeves and oversized layers without even thinking about it anymore.
But Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice any of that. Or maybe he does, and simply doesn’t give a shit.
Because the moment more skin is revealed, his attention shifts there immediately, mouth pressing slow kisses along your shoulder like he’s been wanting to do it for a while now. He noses the tender skin under your ear. His hands move carefully over you, unhurried, fingertips grazing your sides with something dangerously close to reverence.
How do people even do this again?!
You can barely remember the last time someone touched you like this. Barely remember how to kiss properly, let alone whatever comes after.
“Y/N.”
You blink.
Yoongi’s looking at you now instead of kissing you, brows drawn slightly together like he noticed the exact second you disappeared into your own head.
“What is it?” he asks quietly.
“I—umm…”
His thumb strokes once against your waist. “Am I doing something wrong? Cos you’re here,” his hand slides lightly up your arm, “but you’re not with me right now.”
The concern in his voice makes shame curl low in your stomach.
“No, no…” You bite your lip hard enough to stop it trembling. “I just…I haven’t done this in a while. I think I forgot how to be good at it.”
Yoongi’s expression softens instantly.
“Baby,” he says gently, like the answer is obvious. “You don’t gotta be anything for me except yourself.”
And somehow, that wrecks you more than all the filthy lines he’s said all night long.
You let out a slow breath and slowly, almost shyly, you’re slipping the straps of your dress down, one shoulder and then the other. Your hands immediately move on top of the bodice cupping your breast to catch it before it falls.
Yoongi wets his lips, eyes transfixed on your chest and a sharp hiss is drawn when you finally push the fabric down to reveal yourself to him.
“Holy shit…” Yoongi catches his breath, takes exactly one second before asking: “Can I feel them?”
Oh he already looks wrecked. He really is just a man, isn’t he? Heavenly in that white tee, but looking like he’d go through hell just to have you.
Teeth catching your bottom lip, you nod.
Yoongi’s hands are deliciously big and warm as they cup the underside of your breasts, giving it an enthusiastic squeeze and you feel his dick twitch when he does so.
“You like them?”
He nods greedily. “Fuckin’ love your tits. They feel amazing.”
You gasp when he swipes his thumbs across your nipples, watching your mouth part with every stroke.
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“Yeah…”
It’s becoming genuinely difficult to remember how thinking works. Especially when he dips his head low and sucks your nipple gently, slowly into the heat of his mouth. He looks up and oh lord, you can genuinely come right now. The intensity of his gaze, the pressure against your chest, his teasing nibbles before he wraps his lips around the puffy skin and tugs your nipple with his teeth.
“Oh my god…” you whimper, eyes falling shut as your head tips back and your back arches to push your chest even more towards him.
You slide your nails along the back of Yoongi’s head, keeping him there, scratching his scalp as he continues to lavish your tits.
“Mmm that feels so, sooo good…”
You close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of his wet tongue slipping and sliding across your chest. You're indulging in the sounds too, the faint schlup schlup schlup from his repeated suckling, and a soft pop when he releases your reddened nub.
“I can do this all day,” Yoongi says when you finally open your eyes to his smirking mouth. “This okay?” He asks, and you realize he’s referring to the fingers that have migrated underneath your skirt, rubbing your inner thigh.
“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly.
He hooks your damp panties out of the way and bony digits slide against your warm heat. He groans appreciatively, lower lip going white with how hard he’s biting it.
It feels real good, and you can’t help but moan when his knuckle bumps against that one spot that holds all your sanity right now.
“You’re already so messy for me.”
“I am,” you admit, suddenly so honest. “I’ve been wet since you started recording.”
“Yeah?” he grins, nodding like that was the plan all along. The little shit.
“Is that your brand of foreplay?”
“I haven’t really brought anyone here before. You’re the first.” He says, all the while swiping your folds lazily and leaning to kiss the soft spot where your shoulder meets your neck.
Something very pleasant unfurls in your chest.
“Yoongi, please…”
“Please what?”
“Can you make me come now?”
He smiles, all pink gums and a nose scrunch, oddly looking shy and boyish like he’s not knuckle-deep inside your cunt.
“You want it?”
“Want it so bad.”
“I need to hear you though. I don’t want you all shy and shit…”
You do feel shy, but the moment he wiggles his thumb directly on your clit, you scream, bracing yourself on his biceps for support.
“Oh god.”
“Poor, needy, pretty baby,” he says, planting a quick kiss on your lips. “I got you. Lemme just…”
Fuck.
He plunges two, maybe three fingers inside your slick hole. You don’t know anymore. You don’t know a fucking thing, because all sane thoughts have left your brain. Maybe permanently.
“Shit!”
“Ease me in, baby. Don’t rush,” he says.
You whimper a little, swivelling your hips in tiny circles, while Yoongi slowly massages your walls, letting you get used to the intrusion.
All you’re concerned about is riding his skillful fingers, bucking your hips. It doesn’t take long for you to really start grinding against him with more weight, encouraged by each filthy praise spilling out his lips.
“Beautiful,” he says, breath dissolving into the damp skin on your chest. “There we go.”
“Oh my godddd, Yoongi.”
“Your pussy always gets like this or is it just for me?”
“Just for you. You made me so fucking wet.”
You press your forehead against his temple, your lips trembling against his ear. “Can’t wait to have your cock inside me.” You flick your tongue on his lobe, trailing along the cartilage and that makes him buck up once so suddenly, your ass bouncing against his flexed thigh.
Tears are pricking the edge of your lashes, overwhelmed by all the sensations you haven’t felt in a long, long time. You fuck his fingers quicker now, each pass of his calloused fingertips against your gummy walls brings you closer and closer to your demise. And when he curls it just right to hit that spongy inner crevice, you take two seconds before pleasure explodes from inside of you so forcefully, it coats his palms and your thighs and his pants and oh god, you’re still going…
White noise rings inside your ear drum and the static buzzing through your veins feels almost like your body isn’t your own as you melt against him.
“One more,” Yoongi rasps against your throat, biting your neck and suddenly you’re feral again. Your hips find a life of their own, canting forward, chasing the primal sensations he’s coaxing out of you so effortlessly.
He flicks your nipple with the blunt tip of his thumb, pleasure so crazy you don’t think you’ve ever been this greedy for someone. You whine like a bitch in heat as you continuously rock against him. God you’re so close you can almost taste it.
And you do taste it, him, when he leans in to kiss you, twirling his tongue against yours, timed with each swirl of his thumb against your swollen clit.
Your thighs quiver as you feel it coming fast and hard. And finally your second orgasm crashes like a tidal wave, your mouth hanging open as you pour yourself into him.
What.
The.
Hell.
“That’s a good girl,” he says, pressing a gentle peck on your cheek, and his free arm circles your body as you dissolve into him in the aftermath.
“Fuck, that was good,” you giggle into the words, unable to hide your delight.
“Damn right it was.” You finally notice how breathless he’s become.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m probably too heavy.” Warily, you move to the other side of the couch, while Yoongi stays there, legs still spread out as if you didn’t crush him for however long that was.
“Love having you on top of me,” he says, all starry-eyed, licking his fingers as he tilts his head to observe you as you pull the straps of your dress back over your shoulders.
Your eyes fall to his light-colored sweats and holy shit you made a fuckin’ mess. “Oh my god, I—“
Even before embarrassment can fully settle, Yoongi replies simply and reassuringly. “It’s not all you.”
Wait. Is he saying what you think he’s… No, hold up, because did you just make him...? IN HIS PANTS?
You gawk at him and he winks, still looking positively dazed.
Why is he so fucking hot?
But it's another thought that bubbles up from your throat. “You’re a freak, Yoongi Min.”
“I am.” He smiles, all watery and satisfied as he reaches for your hand and laces it with his. “We should do this again.”
“I wasn’t aware it had ended.”
The gummy grin that breaks across his face is immediate.
“Bedroom?” you suggest.
“Bedroom.”
He glances toward the recording desk, then his expression changes. "Ah shit."
You follow his glance. "What?"
Yoongi laughs wryly and looks at you for a second before he comes clean, eyes sparkling. "I forgot to stop recording."
Son of a—
chapter five
A/N: Bitches wassup? Heh. I always appreciate your notes and reblogs, so please leave some love if you enjoyed. It’s the best way you can show your support.
Thank you for reading this you lovely, beautiful human xo
your world crumbles when you're forced into a marriage with jeon jungkook, a man whose commanding presence terrifies you, reminding you of your father's cruelty. yet beneath his coldness, jungkook’s unexpected kindness stirs a spark of hope, making you question everything you fear. your life together starts—an emotional journey of two hearts seeking comfort, healing and a chance at love
pairing — dom!jungkook x sub!femreader
genre — arranged marriage au, forced marriage, marriage of convenience, age gap, reader is of age, forbidden love, forced proximity, enemies to friends to lovers, grumpy x sunshine, rich ceo!jungkook, shy!reader, virgin!reader, poor!reader, obsession and possessive love, pining, slow burn, contrast of worlds, romance, drama, lots of angst, smut, fluff
warnings — 18+, explicit sex scenes, mature themes, forced marriage, emotional abuse and trauma, dark aspects, daddy issues, domestic violence references, mental health themes and struggles, smoking and drinking, grief and loss, each chapter contains their individual warnings (reader discretion is advised due to the intense, dark and potentially triggering content)
status — ongoing
taglist — [open]
「 MASTERLIST | READ ON WATTPAD 」
INDEX
⤷ 01 : a deal for her hand » 6.8k
“you’re getting married. in a week. to jeon jungkook.”
⤷ 02 : forced to say 'i do' » 5.2k
“you’re a monster just like him! i’ll never forgive you or think this is okay. you—you bought me and i'll hate you for it every day for the rest of my life!”
⤷ 03 : strangers under the same roof » 12.3k
“you’ve been through a lot, y/n. i see it in your eyes, but you're still here, still fighting… that’s not weakness. that’s a strength most people don’t have.”
⤷ 04 : an agreement between us » 8.9k
“i married you, y/n because i wanted you, because you made me feel something for the first time in years. i wanted to protect you, to give you everything and now i'm the one paying for your father's lies.”
⤷ 05 : unspoken truths and comfort » 7.2k
“until i saw you that day at your house, when your father brought you to me and you were so… alive, so sweet, even with all the sadness in your eyes. i wanted you.. not just to have you but to make you happy, to give you everything i never had.”
⤷ 06 : healing in his hold » 11.2k
“touch my wife again and you won’t live long enough to regret it. she’s my woman… and you know exactly how possessive i get when someone dares to lay a hand on what’s mine.”
⤷ 07 : soft edges of us » 9.3k
“you’ve been through enough. you don’t have to hide your pain, not from me. if you're hurting or if you need something—tell me. i’m here, i want to be here.”
⤷ 08 : losing ourselves in maldives » 10k
“you’re such a dirty little thing, aren’t you? sitting there watching me jerk off? you wish that i was fucking your pussy instead huh?”
⤷ 09 : another day in paradise » 14.6k
“i’ve never wanted a woman like this never begged on my knees for anyone but you, fuck… i’ve wanted you since the day i saw you.”
⤷ 10 : is it the end of us? » 12.6k
“you’re everything to me, y/n. i’d never hurt you, i’d rather die than do that. just let me explain once just hear me out—”
⤷ 11 : maybe it's really a sad ending » 5.4k
“you don't get to say anything about her or tell me to let her go. she's my everything you don't know what it's like to love her so much that it hurts, only for it to lose it all in a day.”
⤷ 12 : us against the world » 21.5k
“i’d chase you to the ends of the earth baby, no matter what it takes.”
⤷ 13 : sex & love » 26k
“tell me angel, do you want me to watch you being such a naughty girl? want me to see how wet you get thinking about me fucking you raw right there, bending you over and filling you up?”
⤷ 13.5 : our first time » 21k
“i want you to fuck me like you hate me. like you’ve wanted to break me for weeks.”
⤷ 14 : afterglow and filthy desires » 41.6k
“you promise you will fuck my ass one day?”
⤷ 14.5 : switchin' the positions for you » 14k
“that's it koo… eat my pussy like a good boy.”
⤷ 15 : [ to be released. ]
EXTRAS
⤷ Q&A with bbv!characters
⤷ teaser
⤷ bbv!jungkook
⤷ moodboard/aesthetic created by some of my lovely readers
synopsis: while visiting namjoon and yoongi in the studio, a casual afternoon takes an unexpected turn. namjoon knows something his best friend has been desperately trying to hide — and he decides it’s time to bring it into the light.
tension, embarrassment, and raw desire slowly ignite between the three of you.
you push open the door to the music studio, the familiar scent of coffee and warm electronics wrapping around you. the room is dimly lit, just the way they like it when they’re deep in work—soft glow from the monitors, a couple of half-empty mugs on the desk. namjoon and yoongi are both hunched over the mixing board, focused.
“hey baby,” namjoon says, voice deep and warm as he turns in his chair. his smile is immediate, dimples showing. you step closer and lean down to kiss him slow and sweet, your lips lingering just a little.
“hi joon,” you murmur against his mouth, pulling back with a small smile. you glance over at yoongi. “hey yoongi. sorry if i’m interrupting.”
yoongi glances up briefly, expression neutral. “it’s fine,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough, clearing his throat once before looking back at the screen.
you stand beside namjoon’s chair for a moment, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder as you peer at the waveforms. “what are you two working on today? can i hear the latest version?”
namjoon’s arm slides around your waist, tugging you gently down onto his lap. “yeah, come here.” you settle against his chest, your short dress riding up your thighs as you get comfortable. his arm wraps securely around you. “we’ve been tweaking the chorus mostly.”
he clicks play, letting the moody beat fill the room. you listen, nodding along. “it sounds really good. the atmosphere feels heavier now.” you turn your head slightly toward yoongi. “you added that new layer, right?”
yoongi shrugs, eyes fixed on the screen. “yeah. tried something different.” his words are short, clipped. he shifts in his seat, swallowing hard.
namjoon chuckles softly, his hand resting casually on your bare thigh, thumb stroking slow circles. “yoongi’s being modest again. it was his idea. makes the whole thing hit different.”
“the tour’s been so draining lately,” you say, keeping the conversation light. “that seoul show where the lights flickered?
namjoon laughs, low and easy. “yeah, chaotic as hell. baby, you should’ve seen yoongi’s face when the monitors died.” his hand slid further up your thigh, warm palm against softer skin.
you tense, reaching down to gently push his hand lower. “joon,” you whisper close to his ear, cheeks warming. “stop.”
he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder like nothing’s wrong. his hand returns moments later, higher this time, tracing the inside of your thigh.
yoongi stays quiet, staring at the screen, but his jaw tightens. “the bridge timing is still off,” he says flatly, voice strained.
“yeah, i hear it,” namjoon agrees, playing a short section again. his fingers brush teasingly close to the edge of your panties. “what do you think, baby? keep it stripped or add more?”
you squirm in his lap, embarrassed. “joon, seriously,” you whisper more urgently, trying to close your legs and nudge his hand away. “he’s right here. let’s go somewhere else if you’re in the mood, okay? please.”
namjoon stays perfectly calm, voice steady but loud enough for the room. “why leave? yoongi’s been enjoying this view for a long time now. haven’t you, hyung?”
the words hit like a shock. you freeze, eyes wide. “namjoon—what the hell?” you slap his chest hard with your palm, the sound sharp in the quiet studio, your face burning with disbelief and embarrassment. “what are you even talking about?”
yoongi’s head snaps up, face flushing deep red. “what the fuck?” his voice is sharp with anger and shock. “don’t say shit like that, that’s not funny at all.”
namjoon doesn’t flinch, still relaxed behind you, his hand resting high on your thigh. “i’m not joking. i’ve known for months. all those nights on tour—you disappearing after hearing us through the walls, the way you stare when she’s here. you’re not subtle.”
you’re mortified, slapping his arm again in protest. “joon, stop this right now! this is so fucking embarrassing—i have no idea what you’re talking about.” your voice shakes, shame flooding through you, but a traitorous warmth starts building low in your belly.
yoongi looks pissed, fists clenched tight on the desk. “this is complete bullshit. you’re making shit up just to fuck with me. she’s your girlfriend, i never crossed any line.” his tone is rough, defensive, breathing heavier now. he won’t meet your eyes, but the strain in his sweats is obvious as he shifts uncomfortably.
namjoon’s voice stays calm and steady. “deny it all you want, but you’re hard right now just from looking. tell her the truth. how long have you been thinking about her like this?”
yoongi stays silent for a long, tense moment, face burning crimson. “you’re an asshole for this.” yoongi suddenly pushes his chair back, standing abruptly. “fuck this, i can’t deal with this shit.”
namjoon’s arm shoots out fast, grabbing yoongi’s wrist in a firm, unyielding grip, yanking him back. his voice drops lower, dominant and angry. “sit the fuck down, yoongi. now.”
yoongi tenses hard, jaw clenched, clearly fighting the urge to pull away, but after a beat of resistance he drops back into the seat with a shaky, defeated breath. his face is still burning with humiliation. “tell her.”
he finally snaps, voice low and full of shame. “since last year, alright? i tried to ignore it. hearing you two… seeing her with you. it wasn’t on purpose. this is fucked up.”
the confession hangs heavy. you whimper softly, burying your face against namjoon’s neck for a moment, completely overwhelmed. “this is insane…”
“see?” namjoon murmurs against your ear, calm and filthy now, his fingers brushing deliberately over the damp spot on your panties. “he’s been dying for you this whole time. and you’re soaking already, baby. you like knowing he’s been touching himself thinking about you?
yoongi lets out a shaky breath, still embarrassed but unable to look away completely. “don’t— say it like that… shit.” his hand presses against his obvious bulge, conflicted but visibly turned on.
namjoon pulls your dress higher slowly, bunching the thin fabric around your waist and fully exposing your soaked panties and the smooth skin of your thighs to yoongi’s hungry stare. “good,” he murmurs against your ear, voice low and commanding. “now watch how i fuck my woman, hyung. pay attention. maybe you’ll finally learn how to handle her the way she needs.”
you whimper in pure embarrassment, your face burning hot as you instinctively try to close your legs, but namjoon’s strong thighs keep you spread open over his lap. “joon…please,” you whisper shakily, voice cracking. “this is so embarrassing—“
but your body betrays you completely. your pussy clenches visibly against the damp fabric, a fresh rush of wetness soaking through as yoongi’s eyes darken, locked between your legs. you can’t deny how filthy and thrilling it feels to be displayed like this.
namjoon chuckles darkly, one big hand sliding up to cup your mound possessively, rubbing slow circles over your panties with the heel of his palm. “look at him, baby. don’t hide. tell me you don’t love how desperate he looks right now—watching from afar like the pathetic little pervert he’s been all this time.”
you hesitate, biting your lip hard, but namjoon’s fingers press firmer and you moan softly, eyes fluttering open to meet yoongi’s. he’s breathing raggedly, one hand gripping the arm of his chair while the other palms his hard cock through his sweats, completely transfixed. the sight sends another wave of heat through you.
“fuck…” you breathe, embarrassed but undeniably turned on. “yoongi…”
the sound of his name falling from your lips makes yoongi’s cock twitch hard in his hand, a visible throb that has him groaning low and squeezing the base to stop himself from losing it too soon.
yoongi swallows thickly, voice hoarse and shy. “shit, you’re even prettier up close like this. i shouldn’t—fuck, i’m sorry.”
namjoon smirks, hooking his fingers into the crotch of your panties and tugging them aside, fully exposing your glistening, swollen pussy to the cool studio air and yoongi’s wide eyes. “don’t apologize. look at this pretty cunt, hyung. she’s dripping just because you’re staring. been waiting for you to see how wet she gets.”
he drags two thick fingers through your folds slowly, spreading your slickness from clit to entrance in deliberate, filthy strokes. you gasp, hips twitching despite yourself. “joon—ahh… he can see everything,” you whine, mortified, but you don’t pull away. instead, your head falls back against namjoon’s shoulder as he circles your clit with teasing pressure.
“that’s the point, baby,” namjoon growls, nipping at your neck. “i want him to see every inch. watch how she throbs when i touch her.” he sinks one finger inside you slowly, curling it deep while his thumb keeps rubbing lazy circles on your swollen clit. the wet, obscene sounds of your arousal fill the studio. “feel that, hyung? so fucking tight and greedy. this is what you’ve been jerking off to through the walls.”
yoongi groans low, finally shoving his sweats down enough to free his cock. it’s flushed dark and leaking, and he strokes himself in time with namjoon’s fingers, eyes never leaving your exposed pussy. “god… she’s so wet. looks so soft. i always imagined how you’d sound up close like this.”
“tell him, baby,” namjoon demands, adding a second finger and pumping them deeper, faster, curling against that spot that makes your toes curl. “tell yoongi how much you like him watching you get finger-fucked like a slut on my lap.”
you’re panting now, embarrassment mixing with raw pleasure as your hips roll shamelessly against namjoon’s hand. “i… i like it,” you admit breathlessly, cheeks flaming. “yoongi… it’s making me so wet. i didn’t know you wanted me this bad.”
namjoon laughs softly, proud and dirty, scissoring his fingers to stretch you open. “hear that? she’s clenching so hard just from your eyes on her. rub your clit for him, baby. show him exactly how you like it.”
your hand trembles as you reach down, spreading yourself wider with two fingers while namjoon keeps fucking you with his. yoongi’s strokes speed up, thumb swiping over his leaking tip as he watches every detail—your slick dripping down namjoon’s hand, the way your pussy flutters visibly.
“fuck, she’s perfect,” yoongi mutters, voice wrecked and shy. “so pink and messy… i’d give anything to taste her.”
namjoon’s free hand comes up to pinch and roll your nipple through your dress, voice rough with dominance. “not yet. today you watch and learn how to make her cum properly. look at her face, hyung—eyes all glassy because she loves making your dirty little secret come true.”
you moan louder, the combination of namjoon’s skilled fingers, his dirty words, and yoongi’s intense, starved gaze pushing you closer to the edge. “i’m—fuck… i’m so close…”
“cum for us, baby,” namjoon commands, thrusting his fingers harder, thumb pressing firm on your clit. “show yoongi how pretty you look falling apart while he strokes his cock to you.”
your orgasm crashes over you hard, thighs shaking as you cry out, pussy gushing around namjoon’s fingers. yoongi groans deeply, pumping himself faster, completely lost in the sight of you cumming so shamelessly in front of him.
namjoon doesn’t stop, milking every last tremor from you while kissing your neck. “good girl. we’re just getting started. aren’t we, hyung?”
yoongi’s hand is moving faster on his cock, flushed and leaking, eyes glued to the way your pussy flutters around namjoon’s fingers. “fuck… please, namjoon. just let me touch her. one hand. i need to feel how soft she is.”
namjoon chuckles low and dark, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet sound and bringing them to your mouth. you suck them clean obediently, tasting yourself, eyes half-lidded. “not a chance,” namjoon says calmly, dominant edge sharp in his voice. “don’t be greedy, hyung. you don’t get to touch my woman yet. you watch and learn.”
you’re still panting, embarrassed heat flooding your face even as your hips roll back against namjoon’s hard cock trapped beneath you. “joon… it’s too much,” you whisper, voice shaky, but your body is aching for more.
namjoon grips your hips and lifts you slightly, freeing his thick cock from his pants. he rubs the fat head along your soaked folds, teasing your clit before lining up. “you ready to watch me fuck her, hyung?”
without waiting, he pulls you down onto him in one slow, deep thrust, stretching you open around his girth. you moan loudly, head falling back against his chest as he fills you completely. “oh god—joon”
“that’s right, baby,” namjoon groans, starting to bounce you on his lap with steady, powerful thrusts. the wet slap of your ass meeting his thighs echoes in the studio. “look at him. eyes all fucked out just from seeing how my cock disappears inside this tight little pussy.”
yoongi strokes himself desperately, breath ragged. “she sounds so good… fuck, the way she’s taking you. please, just her thigh or something—i’m so close already.”
“no,” namjoon snaps, one hand sliding down to rub your clit in firm circles while the other grips your hip, controlling every bounce. “you want any chance at her later? then you hold it. watch how she squeezes me when i hit that spot right here—”
he angles his hips and thrusts up hard, hitting deep inside you. you cry out, clenching around him, the pleasure making your thighs shake. “yoongi…” you manage between moans, still flushed with shame but getting off on his starved gaze.
namjoon laughs softly, filthy and proud. “hear that? she’s talking to you while i’m balls deep in her. you could never fuck her like this, hyung. you’d probably cum in seconds just from feeling how wet and hot she is. pathetic.”
yoongi groans miserably, slowing his strokes to obey but clearly struggling, pre-cum dripping over his fist. “i know… shit, i know i would. she’s too perfect. the way her tits bounce under that dress—fuck.”
namjoon keeps fucking you steadily, deep and rhythmic, never letting you catch your breath. his fingers work your clit faster, voice low and commanding in your ear. “cum on my cock, baby. show him how you fall apart for me. let yoongi see what a good little slut you are when you’re properly fucked.”
the dirty words, the relentless drag of his thick cock against your walls, and yoongi’s desperate, hungry stare push you over the edge again. you came hard around him, moaning loudly, pussy gushing and fluttering as your whole body shakes in his lap. namjoon fucks you through it, praising you softly. “that’s it. good girl.”
yoongi looks wrecked, hand frozen on his throbbing cock, veins standing out as he fights not to cum. “please, namjoon… i can’t—i need something.”
namjoon slows his thrusts but stays buried deep inside you, letting you catch your breath while still rocking gently. he smirks at yoongi. “you held it. good. maybe you deserve a little reward.”
namjoon’s voice stays low and commanding. “baby, get on your knees for him. on the floor. show him how good that mouth feels.”
your heart hammers with fresh embarrassment, face burning hot. “joon…” you whisper, voice shaky even as your pussy clenches hard around his cock at the filthy idea. you’re still so exposed, legs spread wide over his thighs, but the thought of being on your knees in front of your boyfriend with another man’s dick in your mouth makes another rush of wetness drip down your thighs.
“that’s right,” namjoon murmurs against your ear, nipping at it. “don’t be shy now. he’s been dreaming about this for months. let him see you like the pretty little slut you are for us.”
he lifts you off his cock with a wet pop, helping you slide down to the floor. you end up on your hands and knees right in front of yoongi’s chair, ass up and back arched, your short dress still bunched uselessly around your waist. yoongi’s cock is right at eye level, hard and leaking, and he stares down at you like he can’t believe this is real.
namjoon kneels behind you on the floor, gripping your hips firmly. “go on, baby. take him in your mouth while i fuck this pussy again. eyes on him the whole time.”
you hesitate for a second, cheeks flaming with shame, but the ache between your legs wins. you wrap a trembling hand around yoongi’s base and lean forward, taking his flushed head into your warm mouth. your tongue swirls around the tip, tasting the salty pre-cum as you suck gently.
yoongi lets out a broken groan, hips twitching. “fuck—your mouth… so fucking warm and soft. i’ve thought about this so many times…”
namjoon doesn’t wait. he lines himself up and pushes back into you in one deep thrust, bottoming out with a groan. the force makes you moan around yoongi’s cock, taking him deeper into your throat. “that’s it,” namjoon growls, starting a steady, punishing rhythm. “suck him while i ruin you. look at him, baby. see how desperate he is just from your tongue.”
you do, eyes watering as you look up at yoongi through your lashes, bobbing your head slowly while namjoon fucks you harder. the position has you completely trapped between them — ass up, getting railed, mouth full of yoongi’s cock. the wet sounds are obscene: skin slapping against your ass, the slick glide of your lips around yoongi, your own muffled moans.
“she’s so tight,” namjoon taunts, one hand reaching around to grab at your chest. “you like watching her choke on your dick?”
yoongi’s hand hovers near your head but doesn’t touch, respecting namjoon’s rules even as he pants. “yes… fuck, i do. her mouth feels too good. i’m so close already, please—”
“not yet,” namjoon snaps, slamming into you deeper, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. “you don’t cum until i do. hold it if you want to keep feeling her.”
you whimper loudly around yoongi’s cock, the vibration making him curse and twitch against your tongue. the embarrassment is still there — being fucked on all fours like this in the studio, sucking your boyfriend’s best friend while he watches — but it only makes everything hotter. your juices drip down your thighs with every thrust.
namjoon leans over your back, voice rough and full of lust. “you love this, don’t you baby? getting used from both ends. tell yoongi how much you like his cock in your mouth.”
you pull off yoongi’s cock for a second, gasping for air, strings of spit connecting your lips to his tip. “i—i love it,” you admit breathlessly, voice wrecked. “i love your cock in my mouth.”
yoongi’s head falls back, groaning. “shit…”
namjoon thrusts harder, fingers digging into your hips. “eyes on him, baby. don’t stop sucking. we’re not done until you cum on my cock again and he’s earned his turn down your throat.”
the overwhelming fullness, the filthy sounds, and yoongi’s wrecked expression staring down at you push you straight to the brink. your moans grow louder around his cock as pleasure coils tighter and tighter.
“that’s it—cum on me,” namjoon growls.
your climax hits like a wave, crashing through you hard. your pussy spasms wildly around namjoon’s cock, thighs quivering as you cry out around yoongi, the sound muffled and broken. slick coats his length and drips down your legs while you keep sucking through the intense pulses.
yoongi curses, barely hanging on. “namjoon… i can’t—please, i need to cum.”
namjoon keeps fucking you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you’re shaking. “go ahead. fill her mouth. give her everything you’ve been holding back for so long.”
yoongi finally breaks. his cock twitches hard on your tongue before he spills, thick and hot, flooding your throat in several heavy spurts. you swallow as best you can, some escaping the corner of your lips as you whimper softly.
namjoon’s thrusts turn erratic and deep, chasing his own release. “good job, baby. now take mine too.” with a low, guttural sound he buries himself to the hilt and cums, pulsing inside you in long, warm bursts that leave you feeling full and claimed.
the three of you stay locked like that for a long moment — heavy breathing filling the studio, bodies slick with sweat. namjoon eventually pulls out slowly, watching his cum leak from your used pussy with dark satisfaction. you ease off yoongi’s softening cock, lips shiny and swollen, collapsing onto your side on the floor in a boneless, satisfied heap.
yoongi slumps back in his chair, looking dazed and grateful. “that was… i don’t even have words.”
namjoon runs a gentle hand down your back, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “you were perfect, baby” he murmurs to you, then glances at yoongi with a smirk. “behave yourself and maybe next time i’ll let you fuck her.”
you let out a shaky, breathless laugh, face still flushed with lingering embarrassment and pleasure. “you two are going to ruin me.”
synopsis: a quiet house, strict parents, and a life that’s always been kept in check — jungkook was everything you were not supposed to be involved with. a little too confident, a little too careless, and somehow exactly the kind of distraction you were planning for. what started as an unspoken arrangement has become something familiar, almost routine in its own dangerous way.
word count: 6.6k
warnings: +18, pure filth, dirty talk, oral sex (both), fingering, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, degradation, praise, hair pulling, kinda cum play, they have sex in reader’s parents’ bedroom, power play, slapping, chocking
you paced around your bedroom nervously, grabbing your makeup brush from the vanity on the way to the mirror one more time to fix your blush. it was probably the third or fourth time you were doing it, and obviously it still looked the same, but you were trying, in a foolish attempt, to make yourself look not like yourself.
you smoothed your hands over your shirt one more time before checking your hair again, then checking your phone, then the mirror, then your phone again, because even though the message he’d sent the night before clearly said he’d be there around noon, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering exactly when that would be.
jungkook wasn’t the kind of person who sent updates. he wasn’t going to text you that he was on his way and he wasn’t going to tell you how many minutes away he was. he would simply appear, and that gave you the worst anxiety every time.
all of a sudden, the low rumble of a motorcycle drifted through the open crack of your window and your entire body froze. before your brain could catch up, you embarrassingly crossed the room at what felt like the speed of light and reached the window almost instantly, pulling the curtain aside and looking down just in time to see the familiar black motorcycle turn into the driveway, sunlight catching briefly against the metal before jungkook slowed to a stop.
your stomach tightened immediately, just like every other time. it didn’t matter how often you saw him, or that you’d known he was coming, or that you had spent half the morning preparing for this exact moment, somehow the sight of him always made your pulse jump.
jungkook killed the engine and removed his helmet. he ran a hand through his dark hair, messy and slightly damp from the heat, then looked up towards your room almost immediately, as though he had known from the start that you would be waiting there. the grin that spread across his face confirmed it.
you clenched your legs together in anticipation. just the mere sight of him, black shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, tattoos visible beneath the tight rolled sleeves and motorcycle between his legs, it was enough to send you into a spiral.
trying not to smile back, you pushed the window open and leaned slightly outside, the warm breeze brushing against your face while he tilted his head farther back to look at you.
“rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair.” he said mockingly, laughing at his own joke.
you rolled your eyes and let out a small chuckle. “you’re so stupid.”
“you’re in a giant tower, i’m down here, all we’re missing is the hair” he gestured dramatically towards your window.
“it’s my house, not a tower.”
“it’s basically a tower”
“it’s not”
“then explain why i’m having to communicate with you from twenty feet below”
you shook your head, trying not to smile as he grinned up at you.
“you know, i’ve told you before not to park in the driveway.”
jungkook glanced over at his bike. “why not?”
“my parents could see you.”
“didn’t you say they wouldn’t be home today?” he frowned his eyebrow.
“yeah but—“
“then what’s the problem?” you sighed at the interruption, defeated.
he lifted his leg over the bike, stepping out and placing the helmet over the rearview mirror.
“now come on baby, be a good girl and come open this door for me.” he didn’t even look at you, walking right towards the front door.
your cheeks burned up once you felt the wetness starting to pool in your panties. it was embarrassing how much his simple words affected you. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger.
you ran to the door, trying not to trip on your way down the stairs, stopping right in front of it just to fix your hair one more time before slowly opening the big block of wood.
he was leaning slightly against the door frame, so close you had to take a step back. he looked up at you, his eyes dark and steady. he didn’t speak at first, just letting the silence sit there between you while his gaze slowly traced over your face like he was making sure you were real.
you swallowed dry, forcing your voice to work properly. “what?”
he smiled, a tiny smile on the corner of his lips. “you look pretty.”
you felt your cheeks burning again, and you were sure he noticed too. you fumbled nervously with the hem of your skirt, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact. but quickly enough jungkook was taking one step closer, his hand reaching under your chin, his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers on the other, squeezing your cheeks together slightly and forcing you to look up at him.
“you know i don’t like when you avoid me.” he shook his head slowly in disapproval and for some reason you felt this sense of shame, as if you had wronged him in the worst way possible.
“sorry.” you said, almost as a whisper.
he slowly let go of your face, his eyes still locked on yours, and this time you forced yourself not to look the opposite direction.
“that’s my girl.” there was that smirk again, a mixture of proud and evil.
you suddenly snapped to reality, pulling him in by his wrist “come in before the neighbours see you.” and shutting the door behind him.
he laughed, throwing his head back. “do you think they’re gonna hunt me down if they see me here?” he joked.
you rolled your eyes. “you know i’ll get in trouble if word gets around that you’ve been coming here while my parents are gone.” you hesitated. “…they hate you.”
he frowned. “they never met me.”
“they hate guys like you.” you gestured to him. “it’s unthinkable for their daughter to be dating a guy like you.” you said sarcastically.
he smirked. “oh are we dating now?”
you hit his chest making him stumble back, his laugh echoing through the house. “you know what i mean… asshole.” you whispered that last part.
“what did you say?” his eyebrow raised, his voice calm and steady, his feet stepping closer to you again.
“nothing.” you chuckled slightly, trying to hide your smile while you stepped back further away from him but his body was much taller than you, towering over you and your stomach twisted at the sight.
“such a filthy mouth huh?” suddenly he grabbed your wrist, pulling you forcefully against his chest, closing the gap between you, his eyes burning into yours. “say that again.” his voice was threatening but still calm. you knew he wasn’t actually mad, the small curl on the corner of his mouth giving it away. he was playing with you, teasing you.
“wanna watch a movie?” you smiled innocently, changing the subject quickly.
he chuckled, releasing the grip on your wrist slightly. “if that’s what you want, baby.”
“come on.” this time you were the one holding onto his wrist, pulling him with you up the stairs. “my parents bought me a new tv for my bedroom, its huge.” you said excitingly, which seemed to amuse him since you heard a small laugh behind you.
“spoiled as always.”
“shut up.” you quickly reached your bedroom, jungkook following after you.
he never quite got used to the size of it. it made no sense to him how big it was, especially since he lived in the smallest apartment known to man, it was all he could afford, but at least he had his own place all to himself. he still asked you from time to time how you handled still living with your parents. it was unthinkable for him to still live with his, he would rather die.
“isn’t it so cool?” you said, taking a small jump next to the big tv. he found your excitement rather cute.
“so cool princess.” he wasn’t mocking you or teasing you. he loved seeing your genuine smile whenever he agreed with you or encouraged you.
“oh…” you looked around your room, searching for something. jungkook’s gaze followed yours, confused. “i think my parents left the remote at their room. my dad was checking something yesterday.” you made your way out of the bedroom. “i’ll go get it, just stay here.”
and with that you walked a few steps down the hallway and into your parents’ bedroom. if jungkook thought your room was big, then he would be flabbergasted at the sheer size of this one. it looked like a dining hall but with a bed instead of a table.
you searched over the desk, moving a couple things to the side until you saw the small remote over at the corner, grabbing it quickly.
to your surprise, once you turned around, jungkook was standing right in the middle of the room, his mouth agape, staring around, a dumbfounded expression splattered all over his face.
“was this really necessary?” he took a few steps forward, still analysing the furniture around him. “why do two people need this much space?” he shook his head slightly, stunned.
“i told you to stay in the bedroom.” you whined, walking over towards him.
“what’s the problem?” he sank down onto the bed, bouncing slightly, testing the mattress. “soft, it’s nice.” he grinned at you.
“jungkook!” you went over to him, trying to pull him by his wrist but failing. he was naturally much stronger than you, he didn’t even flinch. “get up from there, i’m being serious.”
“oh baby, you’re so scary when you’re being serious.” he mocked, chuckling.
you rolled your eyes and before you could continue complaining, you felt his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you in between his legs, your bare ones rubbing slightly against the rough material of his jeans. you were now face to face with him, unable to escape, his grip tight on you.
“don’t get upset baby.” his voice was softer now, almost melodic, his lips landing softly against your collarbone, planting a kiss there that made your body shiver.
“jungkook—“
“shh…” another kiss, this time higher, at the base of your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, your hands squeezing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders.
“let’s go back to my room.” your voice was shaky, your mind starting to fade.
“i don’t want to.” he muttered against your neck, trailing kisses over your skin, wetter, open mouth kisses now. “i want to have you here.”
you gasped, his lips and teeth pulling at the skin, sucking harder. you knew that was gonna leave a mark there and more importantly, he knew it too.
“jungk—“ his tongue traced your skin. “we can’t… please.” you begged, the pool of wetness inside your panties contradicting your words.
“want me to stop?” his fingers slowly went up the back of your bare thighs, teasingly slow, reaching just slightly under the hem of your skirt and kneading at the skin softly.
you squeezed your legs together in reflex and heard him chuckle at the reaction.
“no…” so soft it was barely audible.
“that’s what i thought. good girl.” his hands reached the back of your head, his fingers mingling between the strands of your hair, pulling you flush against him, forcing your lips into a deep kiss, his tongue immediately slipping past them.
you felt that familiar pulse between your legs and moaned softly against his lips.
you couldn’t believe you were doing this here, in your parents’ bedroom. the ideia of it was filthy, dirty, but somehow it turned you on even more, the thrill of it making you increasingly excited.
“you wanna be fucked so bad, don’t you baby?” he muttered between kisses, giving you some room to catch your breath, barely.
his hands wandered down again, this time squeezing your ass tightly, making you whine.
you couldn’t make sense of words, everything was a blur in your mind, so you just nodded your head eagerly in response.
“yeah i know baby.” it came out of his lips almost like a moan. you knew he was painfully hard already. just the thought of it made you salivate. “such a little slut, aren’t you?”
you nodded again, he chuckled, evil. his hands held your waist tightly, pulling you to sit on his lap, one leg on either side of him, and there it was. your thoughts confirmed. his hard on pressing against his jeans, ready to burst, and you let out the lewdest moan when he pressed you down against it, your clothed pussy rubbing deliciously against the rough material.
he guided your hips back and forth on his bulge, your wetness slipping through your panties and onto him, leaving a small stain, barely noticeable against the dark color of his jeans, but you felt embarrassed at how ready you were already, so ready for him.
“get on your knees.” his voice was low, and you were surprised at how steady it still was, considering you were a fucking mess already.
he didn’t need to repeat it twice, you willingly got up and dropped to your knees in front of him, positioning your body between his legs, and placing your hands on his thighs. he looked down at you, his lips flushed red, his eyes so dark you could barely see any white in them.
“you want this cock, baby?” he rubbed his hand over his bulge, squeezing slightly and your mouth watered.
“yeah…” you whispered, doe eyes looking up at him.
“want it in your mouth, huh?” you bit your bottom lip in anticipation and nodded your head eagerly.
a big smirk splattered all over his lips and with just one hand he unbuckled his belt. the sound of the buckle alone made you grip harder at his legs, your nails digging slightly and your stomach twisting in anticipation.
he unzipped his pants and slipped his hand covered in tattoos inside, pulling his cock free. your mouth watered at the sight of it, hard, thick, pulsing lightly, his tip already glistening.
he moved his hand slowly up and down on his shaft. “open up baby.” you complied instantly, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue slightly, ready to take him. “good girl.” he said lustfully, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue, a string of spit and pre cum attaching your tongue to him.
“you’re gonna take all of it, do you understand?” his other hand made its way to the back of your head, holding a handful of your hair and pulling back slightly, making you whine. “you want it don’t you, slut.” the degrading name made you pulse and you nodded as you wrapped your lips around his cock, sucking in the tip, earning a low guttural grunt from jungkook, his eyes fluttering close.
you worked your tongue around the tip, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. he swayed his arm back, hand resting on the mattress behind him, relaxing his body and taking in the view of your pretty lips wrapped around him. it was something he couldn’t get enough of.
you felt his other hand pushing your head forward slightly, giving you time to adjust. you knew you only had a very short amount of time before the gentleness vanished. you bobbed your head up and down while jungkook moaned softly between his teeth.
“you’re taking it so well baby, that’s it.” he encouraged you, the grip on your hair getting tighter, and you felt him forcing your head down more, until your lips were right at the base of his cock, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat. he kept your head there for a moment, his hand not letting you move at all, his eyes staring straight into yours with a lustfull shine to them, and you saw his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, containing a moan from slipping out.
“fuck baby…” he breathed out. “you look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.”
your wetness was starting to drip down the side of your legs, his words making you want to show him how good you could be, you wanted to make him proud so bad.
without warning he started to thrust into your mouth, slowly at first, but as soon as he felt the vibration of your moans around him, and the tears starting to build up on the corners of your eyes, he couldn’t keep it in anymore, he had to ruin you.
he started thrusting faster, harder, and you tried your best not to gag at the force of his cock hitting the back of throat aggressively. his grunts and moans encouraged you to keep going, even tho it was jungkook doing the work for the most part, his hips moving up while his fingers on your hair kept you in place, fucking your mouth relentlessly.
a tear rolled down your cheek and he pulled your head back, a thick strip of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock making you gasp, finally being able to catch your breath.
you immediately stuck your tongue out one more time, reaching over to take him in his mouth again but he stopped you by pulling your hair back with force, making your head tilt up slightly, a whimper leaving your lips.
“so eager for my cock, huh? dirty little slut” he smirked looking down at the mess you’d become, planting a small slap on your cheek. “i have other plans for you. get up.” his voice was assertive and you immediately complied, standing up and looking at him waiting for further instructions.
he took a minute staring at you, his eyes moving from your face all the way down to your feet and back up at your eyes, and you could see the mischief in them, which made you both excited and nervous for what was to come.
“strip for me, princess. slowly.” your cheeks immediately burned up at the thought of being observed like that.
“mhm—“ you couldn’t even get started on your sentence, jungkook sighed in disappointment and looked to the side, shaking is head.
“you were being such a good girl.” his eyes caught yours again, but this time he seemed annoyed, almost mad, which made your stomach twist. “you’re gonna make me repeat myself?”
there was a moment of silence between you, his eyebrow raising impatiently, and instead of responding, your fingers made their way to the buttons of your shirt, starting to open one by one. you noticed the smirk forming on his lips again, which made you try to hide your own smile, slightly embarrassed at the exposure.
“what about you?” you asked while you slipped your shirt over your shoulders, letting it hit the floor at your feet.
he chuckled, his head tilting slightly to the side, his eyes trailing down your body. “i see someone already forgot their place. do i have to show you who’s in charge here? you seem to have forgotten, baby.”
your hands shook when they got to the skirt, pulling it down your legs, your feet stepping out of it. “no.” you cursed yourself for not being able to keep your voice steady, giving away just how nervous you were, all exposed like this in front of him. you could feel his eyes eating you up.
“are you sure?” he gestured with his finger for you to step closer and you did. you almost stopped in your tracks when he suddenly got up, his body towering over you. “if you question me one more time i won’t go easy on you, princess.” his finger tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and then smoothed the back of his hand over your cheek. “but maybe that’s what you want huh? wanna be a bad girl today? wanna be fucked like the whore you are?” you clenched around nothing at his filthy words, a slight whine escaping your lips without warning.
suddenly his fingers wrapped around your arm tightly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed, making you gasp.
“spread those legs. now.” his gaze was back to a dark color, and you felt eaten alive by them.
you timidly spread your legs in front of him, the large wet stain in your panties confirming what he was already expecting; you were dripping for him already.
“god baby, you really love getting your mouth fucked, don’t you?” he kneeled on top of the bed in front of you and you winced when he trailed a finger over your clothed folds.
“wanna taste you so bad baby.” his words were full of a lust. “you want that? want me to eat that little pussy of yours?” you whimpered in response, biting your bottom lip to keep you from moaning.
“yes kook… please.” you sounded pathetic begging for him, but he loved every second of it. he loved having you vulnerable and desperate for him. he loved having this control over you. he loved corrupting what was usually such a sweet and innocent girl into the slut you became for him.
his fingers wrapped around the sides of your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs, exposing your bare cunt, glistening and dripping with your juices, a sight that made him lick his lips in anticipation. he lowered himself on the bed, his face close enough that you could feel the cold air of his breath against your folds. he placed his hands under your thighs, pushing them up until you were all spread out for him, his grip so tight you couldn’t move even if you tried.
“so fucking wet.” his tongue took a long strip up your slit making you jolt and moan, but his hands kept you in place. he teased you by placing small kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer to where you wanted him most but never fully getting there.
“jk please… want your mouth.” you whined, now being your turn to wrap your fingers in his hair, trying to push his head closer to you but you weren’t nearly strong enough.
you heard him chuckle. “don’t even need to tell you to beg huh?” he spit on your pussy, your body pulsing at the feeling of it sliding over your hole. “who what’ve thought? so innocent when i met you…” his thumb picked up the dripping spit mixed with your juices, smearing it over your clit. “now you’re begging to be fucked in your parents’ room like a slut.” you could tell by his smirk that this was beyond amusing to him, and even tho you felt ashamed that he was right, you didn’t wanna stop. you never wanted to stop.
finally you felt his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking slightly before lapping at your cunt, until he had you squirming under him, your fingers squeezing his hair even harder, making him hiss.
while he worked at your clit, you felt his middle finger enter you slowly, the feeling making you throw your head back and gasp while he started pumping it in and out of you, painfully slow.
just the feeling of his tongue on you was overwhelming, your body shaking and contorting as he picked up pace, lapping vigorously at your clit while his finger curled at just the perfect spot.
suddenly you felt a second finger being inserted, stretching you further, pumping deeper inside you, and the moan it ripped from you was embarrassingly pornographic. heat coiled at the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around his fingers trying desperately to take more of him. you made the mistake of propping yourself up a little bit, looking down at the sight below you, because what you saw was enough to send you over the edge. jungkook was looking straight into your eyes, dark and lustfull, a faint smirk on his lips as his tongue wrapped and licked over your clit, your juices pooling up on top of it and he gladly took every bit into his mouth. the tattoos on his digits disappearing inside your hole as the ones on his other hand gripped firmly under your thigh, keeping your knee pushed back all the way to your chest.
you bit your lip so hard it almost bled, in a pathetic attempt to keep your moans and whimpers from leaving your mouth but it was in vain. you couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was too much. your eyes fluttered closed and you tilted your head back with pleasure, your hand pushing his head further down into your cunt, fingers pulling so hard on his hair you were scared you were going to rip them off.
“gonna cum baby?” he asked between licks, sucking harshly on your clit, the thrust of his fingers getting quicker.
“ye— yeah… please…” your words were shaky, barely understandable. “wann—a cum.”
“look at me princess.”
you forced your eyes open, barely, looking down at him and seeing his burning into yours. you could feel it building, you were so dangerously close.
he nodded his head at you, his tongue and fingers vigorously working at you, and you knew you had the permission you needed to do what you were trying so hard to hold back.
your orgasm washed over you, so intense your whole body shake, and you caught a glimpse of what seemed a proud look on jungkook’s eyes before letting your head fall back into the bed, your eyes closing, a prolonged moan escaping your lips. your body tried contorting around but you felt both of his hands holding you down, and that’s when you realised his fingers weren’t inside you anymore, only his tongue lapping eagerly at your hole, collecting every last bit of cum you had to give him.
for a moment you thought you had transcended into another dimension, your mind completely faded, gone. suddenly you felt his body hovering over you and you slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with a huge grin on his face, your juices glistening all over his lips and chin. you saw him rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth, attempting to clean some of the mess you left on him but it wasn’t enough for you not to taste yourself when he kissed your lips, open mouth, messy, tongue touching yours softly. he was showing you exactly what you’d done to him, and you felt dirty, a feeling you hated to admit made you even hornier, if that was possible.
he removed his lips from you and for a moment he just stood there, looking down at your fucked up state, his hand coming up to brush away a strand of hair from your face.
“you ok?” he chuckled.
you faintly nodded your head, your fingers trailing over his biceps on either side of your head, feeling him close.
“i’m not done with you yet.” his voice was calm, soft, brushing on the sweet side. “understand?”
you shot your eyes up at him, his grin had disappeared now, replaced with that familiar dark and steady look. now that you could observe him better, you noticed you had left his hair a mess. the dark strands were falling carelessly over his forehead, the rest of his hair disheveled, and somehow he looked even hotter like that.
he straightened his body, standing on just his knees in between your legs. he lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it somewhere you didn’t care about. without even realising, your hands moved on their own, running your fingers down his exposed abs. his tattoos were now on full show, covering part of his shoulder and all the way down his right arm.
“like what you see, huh baby?” he smirked, placing his own hand over yours, encouraging you to drop lower. “want me to take these off too?” he stopped your hand right at the hem of his jeans and you noticed he had tucked his cock back in his briefs. you whined at the realisation.
“take them off.” you said almost as a complaint, your eyebrows frowning, which earned a short laugh from him.
he got up from the bed, sliding his pants down, standing with just his underwear now, a pair of black calvin klein boxer briefs.
“the underwear too.” you shot at him and he raised his eyebrow, taking one step closer.
“you think you can boss me around?” his hand wrapped around your neck, not to the point of chocking but a firm grip on it, pulling your body slightly forward. “you’re forgetting your place again.” he tilted his head, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breathing. with his other hand, he reached behind your back, unhooking your bra with ease and removing it from your body, leaving you now completely naked.
your body shivered at the thought of being completely naked in front of him, your legs squeezing together to relief some tension.
“maybe you don’t get to get fucked, what do you think?” your eyes widened at his statement, your head shaking quickly.
“no, no! i’m sorry.” you tried coming closer to him but the grip on your neck got tighter, keeping you in place.
“i don’t know… you’re not really behaving that well, telling me what to do.” you started feeling your wetness dripping from your hole again, your clit pulsing at his words. god he was such a tease.
“i’ll be a good girl, promise.” you pleaded as your eyes glistened with the thought of not having him inside you.
he stepped back, removing his hand from your neck but leaving a faint shade of red around it. he ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at you and then around the room.
“i just don’t think you deserve it anymore, baby.” his hand palmed himself through his underwear, the outline of his cock so clear through the fabric, and panic settled in you.
“no please!” you cried out, kneeling down on the bed, your hands resting in front of you on the mattress. “i deserve it, please, i’ll show you. i can be a good girl.” you felt your eyes watering and jungkook’s cock pulsed at the sight of you. “i’m sorry i told you what to do.” you crawled closer to him, your hand replacing his on his bulge, stroking him through the fabric. he groaned under his breath.
“you’re such a whore.” he murmured, his hand caressing the back of your head. “how much do you want this cock?” his lids were heavy.
“i want it so bad.” you whimpered, your fingers hooking under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his throbbing dick, slamming against his lower abs. your tongue ran over your lips before taking a long lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, your doe eyes locked with his the entire time.
“fuck baby…” he breathed out, chocking back a moan. “you’re gonna suck it aga— ahh” he moaned as you took him all in your mouth with no warning, gagging as your nose touched his pelvic area, staying still for a moment, your tongue running over his pulsing vein, before you removed your mouth again, staring back at him with watery eyes and the sweetest smile you could mustered.
he tried catching his breath, and you felt a sense of pride when you realized he was rather speechless.
“do i deserve it now?” your voice was sweet, contrasting with what you’d just done. he couldn’t help but let go of a small low laugh, before setting his eyes back on yours, your body flinching slightly and a whine ripping out of you when you felt a slap on your cheek. you chuckled mischievously, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.
“i’m gonna ruin you, baby. you hear me?” he grabbed you by your chin, his gaze sinking into you. “you’re mine.”
this time you were able to free yourself quick enough to pull yourself up and plant a kiss on his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck just for one second before he quickly grabbed them, turning you around, your face falling head first into the mattress, his hands manhandling you into a doggy position, his hand pressing your head down, giving you no room to move, while the other perked your ass up, your back bending in a way you didn’t think possible.
with no warning he entered you. you released a guttural moan, gasping for air, as he started fucking you senseless. no time to adjust, no slow start, nothing. just deep, hard thrusts, your mind a complete mush, the force of his movements making your ass ripple back into him, the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and the squelch of your wet pussy filling the room entirely.
“such a fucking whore.” he groaned, his fingers intertwining with your hair, forcing your head down and your moans and cries to be muffled by the sheets. “what would your daddy say if he knew his precious daughter was being fucked like this in his bed huh?” you whimpered, his words making your stomach twist, your clit pulsing harder than before. the imagery was as filthy as it could get, but it felt so incredibly good. the sharp sting of a slap in your ass brought you back from your thoughts and you realised you were practically drooling all over the sheets.
“that’s my good little girl.” he was breathless, his thrusts getting harder and deeper. “you take my cock so well, i can’t get enough of this pussy baby.”
you felt it, it was so near you could cry. “kook— please… i’m— uhh” your muffled moans slipped your lips shaken and broken. you couldn’t even from actual words.
“i know baby.” he cooed, this time the grip on your hair softened and he moved the strands away from your face, watching your fucked up face, moaning, drooling, a fucking mess. his cock throbbed inside you. “cum for me ba—by. c’mon.”
that was enough to sent you over the edge. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. your walls clenched around him, your orgasm washing over you for the second time, so intense you forgot about everything around you. a few more thrusts and you suddenly felt empty, a whimper escaping your mouth at the feeling.
“come here baby.” you felt his fingers wrapping around your arm, pulling you back and turning you around on your knees. your head felt lightweight, the room felt too bright to function. “open your mouth.” you forced yourself to look up at jungkook. he was kneeling in front of you, taller, his hand pumping his cock vigorously, wet.
you opened your mouth slightly, your eyes flickering and your tongue sticking out instinctively as he tapped the tip of his cock on it, his hand still working on the rest of his length.
in a brief moment he was cumming all over your tongue, a low grunt slipping from his lips, and you felt the warm thick substance spreading inside your mouth, some spurs landing on your cheek.
“good girl.” he breathed out, coming down from his orgasm. “swallow everything.” you happily complied, swallowing and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, sucking every last drop he gave you.
he let go of you and you fell sat on the bed, still dazed. his thumb ran over your cheek, collecting a drop of cum that had been left there and forced his digit inside your mouth, to which you sucked eagerly, your eyes locking in with his, a proud smirk on his face.
he kissed your lips softly before getting up from the bed, walking towards the attached bathroom in the room. you laid back in the bed, your hands covering your face and feeling your cheeks burn.
“what have we done, jungkook.” you whined, receiving a small laugh from him as he exited the bathroom again, some paper in his hands.
“you’re gonna tell me you didn’t like it?” he smirked, sitting down next to you. your body flinched when you felt him swiping the paper over your sensitive clit, cleaning you up.
“it’s my parents’ bedroom!” you prompted yourself on your elbows to look at him. “you’re insane!” you shot at him outraged.
there it was that mockingly laugh again. “i don’t remember you ever telling me to stop.”
you knew he was right. it was as much your fault as it was his, if not more.
you quickly got up, grabbing your clothes scattered all over the floor. “quick, help me clean everything up.”
he got dressed as he watched you frantically run around the bed, pulling at the sheets, searching for stains, fluffing the pillows and he grinned. no matter how much he was able to corrupt you during sex, you were always gonna be this girl. worried about your parents, rule abiding, sweet, well behaved good girl. and he loved it.
“gotta go baby.” you stepped closer to you, one hand softly on the back of your head while he planted a kiss on your forehead.
“already?” you whined but quickly caught yourself, not wanting to sound too desperate. “so you just come here to fuck me and then leave? ugh men are all the same.” you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms annoyed.
he chuckled. “i have to work you know?” his fingers brushed under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. “not everyone is a spoiled little girl.” he tilted his head smirking and you slapped his arm away, walking to the other side of the room, earning a laugh from him. “besides, i thought that was our arrangement.” he frowned his eyebrow. “is it not?”
you swallowed dry, taking in the sight of him. his dark hair messy, his fingers rolling the sleeves of his shirt exposing his tattoos, his jeans still unzipped and unbuckled, showing the hem of his underwear.
you were getting distracted.
“yeah—“ you cleared your throat. “yeah, it is.” your cheeks flushed.
“alright then.” he finished buckling his belt and walked over to you. “walk me to the door?”
you both walked down the stairs in silence, stopping at the front door, where you pulled it open. he took a step outside and turned back around, leaning one of his hands on the door frame and reaching down to kiss you on the lips. you didn’t wanna stop, you could kiss him until your lips got tired, he tasted so good. he pulled away.
“text me when you want this dick again.” he laughed and you slapped his chest, rolling your eyes. “bye baby.” he grabbed your chin and planted one last kiss on your lips before turning around.
suddenly both of you stopped in your tracks as you saw your front neighbour watering his lawn, staring directly at you. your eyes widened, waiting for something to happen… a piano landing on top of you maybe.
to your surprise, jungkook raised his hand at him, waiving slightly, before taking his helmet and placing it on his head. that man was truly unbothered. he got on his motorcycle and turned the engine, rumbling loudly. he waved at you and just as quickly he was out of your sight, the sound of his bike disappearing in the distance.
you glanced back at your neighbour, an old bald guy with a belly so big you could’ve swore he was pregnant if he wasn’t a man. he shook his head at you disappointingly and you nervously smiled, closing the door in front of you.
you leaned back against the door, a long sigh, you didn’t realise you were holding, leaving your lips.
summary: you were hired as the most highly sought after escort in your city to ‘entertain’ the members for kim seokjin’s 34th birthday. but how far does ‘down for whatever’ usually go?
word count: 8,671 (this is crazy btw)
content warnings: just filthy filthy smut with a thought of a plot, use of y/n, alcohol use and smoking, y/n is a cisgender female who uses she/her pronouns, established safe word, y/n is tipsy but cognisant enough to give informed consent, safe word previously established (see part 1), safe word check-in, voyeurism, bruising, oral (f!receiving and giving), anal play (no p in a), degradation (name calls and teasing y/n), protected ps in v, one unprotected p in v, cum in mouth + on body, cum drunk!reader, overstimulation, one forced orgasm, creampie, aftercare performed while reader is semiconscious
author’s note: this was gonna be one part, but it was getting so long i didn’t want you guys to go too long without content!! thank you to my friend yugen for the suggestion 😗 also sorry for the time skip its so hard writing 7 men running a train on you?????? this is kinda ass i apologise
taglist: @thesaranghaestudio, @katie-tibo, @randomgirl321, @whos-mali, @tea4sykes {pls inbox or comment to be added!}
psst; read part one here!
“Come sit on my face.”
A beat of silence fell in the air — even the subtle chatter of the other men in the room seemed to reduce itself to hushes. You, usually bold and easygoing when it came to decisions, suddenly experienced a wave of hesitation. You were destined for failure; his brown eyes burning into your own, though heavy lidded from a night of drinking, his fingers broad and decorated with ink, even more exciting. His features were excruciatingly handsome and inviting, you’d be stupid to say no. If anything, the developing wet spot on your underwear told all the secrets you dared not to utter, even under your breath. The throb between your legs was unavoidable at this stage.
When your thumbs hooked under the elastic of your lace, Jungkook’s words brought you to swift stillness. “Keep them on, they look so good,” he dictated. You could tell that his tone was intended to be a lot more even, but the edge of lust couldn’t be buffed away from his voice. With a swallow, your hands instead hung idly at your sides as you took a step towards the lying man. Taking the extended hand he had used to beckon you over as an aid, you wrapped your fingers around his palm as you extended your leg to kneel at his head, your crotch hovering over his lips. You blushed bashfully, but still couldn’t hide the smile on your lips. For a stretched few seconds, it seemed like he was still underneath you. You could feel his warm breath radiating on your core, but nothing movement wise. You dipped your head down out of curiosity and saw that his eyes were closed, simply breathing your essence in. Your heart couldn’t have thrummed harder underneath your ribs even if it tried. You were so taken by the image that you failed to notice one of the young men appear at your front until some strong digits raked themselves into your hair.
Your eyes looked up once again to meet Hoseok’s whose eyes could’ve easily fucked you senseless. He almost looked scary, intimidating, but in the most arousing way possible. It was almost as if you were the prey and he was the predator that had been sniffing out your scent. Almost on cue, Jungkook’s tongue licked long stripes along the inside of your thighs, mirroring the sensation that Taehyung had previously given to you before. A small whimper tumbled from your lips with pathetic need, but your eyes stayed fixed on Hoseok’s. He didn’t say a word, but his mischievous grin told you that he was pleased to see how wrecked you had become with no effort exerted whatsoever. “You okay?” He spoke, voice raspy. However, his tone lacked any genuine concern but rather teased your appearance. All you could manage was a nod, and with that he pulled your hair ever so slightly to the side to allow access to your neck, where his lips quickly to your supple skin. A soft moan left your throat at his roughness, appreciating him sucking bruises into your neck. He too moaned your pulse, as if to enjoy the taste of the small layer of sweat on your body. In tandem with Hoseok’s hickeys, you felt Jungkook’s finger hook around the crotch of your underwear and pull it aside, and the cool air hitting your sopping cunt was enough to make you shiver.
“Shit,” Jungkook groaned beneath you, just as Hoseok’s hand moved to knead your breast into his hand while nibbling on your pulse point. By pure instinct, your hand traveled down the expanse of his body and began palming his noticeable bulge. Hoseok hissed at the contact almost immediately, a welcome surprise to him. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, low and drawed out. At the same time, Jungkook’s tongue flattened against your swollen clit and gave it a long, pressing swipe, forcing a whine from the pits of your throat. His tattooed arm raised to caress your other neglected nipple between his fingers, delicately pinching and rolling them between his pads while his tongue worked against your folds, gathering your essence on his taste buds. You were now completely unaware of your surroundings — your focus was solely set on the two men enjoying their share of wrecking you for life.
Hoseok stepped back away from you in order to shed himself of his clothes, while you spent what remained of your composure to grip the armrest of the couch for support while Jungkook’s tongue guided itself around your tight entrance, ever weeping for penetration. Hoseok didn’t let his eyes leave you once; even the brief second of him pulling his t-shirt over his head, despite your eyes fluttering shut on multiple occasions with Jungkook pleasing your pussy, his eyes remained trained on you. Despite this, you still mustered up the sheer audacity to talk shit. “Are things getting too hot for you?” You mewled with a grin. The scattered chuckles from the side made you semi conscious of the other company still present, but you still continued to be wholly focused on the two men. Although you assumed Jungkook wasn’t aware of what was happening above him, a startling smack delivered to your ass cheek was enough of an indication that he didn’t appreciate your teasing towards his friend. It forced a gasp from your mouth, quickly hushing you. Hoseok cocked an eyebrow upwards just as he shed himself from his bottoms and walked towards you once again, a pair of boxers the only thing maintaining his decency. “I don’t know Y/N, you look so used without even being used yet,” he retorted, playfully sticking out his tongue. Unbeknownst to you, Namjoon had left the room to retrieve something, which hadn’t been made obvious to you until you heard a dull thud and the smell of nicotine filled your senses. You turned to the side to meet his hand subtly placing a box of condoms on the table, unopened and still glistening with its glossy clear wrapping, along with the silky smoke of his cigarette gently floating from between his middle and pointer finger. Just as your eyes dragged up to meet Namjoon’s, you felt his hand embrace the thin circumference of your throat, not quite squeezing but ensuring your gaze was fixed on his. His eyes were kind, inviting, but held a soft glimmer of something darker and hidden. “Be good, sweets,” his deep voice rumbled. You wanted to return his statement with a response, but it was in that moment that Jungkook’s pink muscle pushed its way into you, licking stripes against your walls, and thus only a moan could be dragged out of you. With a simple kiss on the cheek, he let go of you and retreated to his previous spot on the couch.
Even though your head was still reeling from your brief interaction, a curled pointer finger tucked under your chin was enough to ground your ever wandering subconscious. “Want me to put a condom on?” Hoseok questioned. His tone of voice was clearer and sharp, evidence to you that it was a serious question that required clarification. You shook your head quickly, biting back a whine threatening itself of making itself known. Jungkook’s tongue at this point had left its job of massaging your inner walls, making you whimper from the loss. As if acutely aware of what was going on above him, Jungkook’s hands pressed themselves down on your lower back to prompt you to lean over the arm rest, now eye to eye with Hoseok’s crotch. The new angle meant that your clit, ever throbbing and beating for attention, came into direct contact with his hot mouth. With a renewed grip on your thighs, he wrapped his lips around your swollen bud and sucked, forcing out your loudest whine yet. Jungkook seemed pleased with the result, judging from his tightened grip on your flesh and his hum of satisfaction. Meanwhile, Hoseok’s fingers in your hair seemed to serve as a gentle reminder that he too needed some attention. Your eyes spied his bulge, twitching and standing to attention through the fabric. Suddenly, you couldn’t think of anything else in the world that you would rather do.
Your lips puckered slightly and peppered kisses all over his length through his undergarments, causing a low, drawed out fuck from the elder. A smile displayed itself on your mouth with satisfaction. Even without his verbal confirmation, his dick seemed to react to every single press of your lips against his clothed girth. As much as you loved to tease, you knew he didn’t deserve that. Wrapping your manicured fingers around the waistband of his boxers, you pulled them down his thighs and onto his feet, where he accordingly stepped out of them. His cock immediately sprang out of place; in tandem, Hoseok released a soft sigh of relief. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from marveling at how pretty his cock was — you definitely didn’t say that about a lot of cocks. “So pretty," you mumbled, pleased. Underneath, Jungkook’s mouth was working so well that you were pretty sure his jaw should’ve burned by now with effort. He was moaning, a lot, against your core, sending vibrations straight to your nerves. Your moans were shaky and you could tell your orgasm was in the near future. Wrapping your fingers around the base of his girth, you laid your tongue flat against the underside of his length, dragging a low moan from Hoseok. You did that a few times, spreading your saliva all over him, until your fist was able to glide over his meat with ease when jerking him off. His grip tightened in the back of your head and when you glanced up, the sight sent a fresh pang of arousal straight to your cunt.
His eyes were focused on your hand, how small it paled in comparison to his thick cock, but yet his heavy lids meant that you were his demise. His bottom lip was tucked into his mouth in sheer concentration. However, as soon as you glanced up, his eyes shifted upwards to instead look into your glassy eyes. On cue, Jungkook began to sloppily kiss your bud, alternating between sucking and licking hands stripes into it. His hands, having traveled from your thighs to your ass gripped the flesh in his rough palms, spreading your cheeks apart. You weren’t aware of the other men’s positions at that moment in time, but it was made immediately obvious where Jimin and Yoongi were with what happened next. “Oh shit,” Jimin murmured from behind you. Yoongi, on the other hand, seemed to chuckle.
If you had to guess, they had discovered your surprise. Remember that from earlier?
Tucked between your ass cheeks, exposed by Jungkook, was a sparkling gem that gleamed under the warm lights of the suite. A butt plug. You couldn’t help but giggle a little through the repeated moans helplessly tumbling from your lips. Your lips wrapped around the head of Hoseok’s cock, tasting the precum which had begun to pearl on his tip. You feel the younger one beneath you move his hand to your hip just as a cooler hand pressed itself into your ass, adequately spreading you. “Your pretty pussy’s just beggin’ to swallow something, huh?” Yoongi grumbled. You hummed in agreement around Hoseok, sinking down more to take more of him in your mouth, tongue pressed diligently against the underside of his cock. Your orgasm was already building steadily, your eye contact with Hoseok already wavering, but Yoongi’s finger circling your entrance drew yet another whine from you. Jungkook continued to suckle on your clit earnestly, the sound lewd and ringing in your ears. Along with you sinking even further on his girth, Yoongi’s finger pushed its way inside you. In perfect harmony, Yoongi’s sigh, your cry and Hoseok’s grunt came together at the same time.
“She’s milking the fuck out of your finger,” Jimin laughed. You could hear the sound of cloth shuffling and hitting the floor, but you were so preoccupied you didn’t care to find out who was undressing. “I can barely move my finger, she’s gripping me so tight,” Yoongi spoke with a click of his tongue, finger dragging out slowly to emphasise his point. Your head bobbed diligently, sucking in Hoseok’s length at a steady pace, all the while trying to hold onto what was left of your sanity that the men were trying so desperately to take away. At that point, your hips started to rock, simultaneously trying to fuck yourself on Yoongi’s finger and Jungkook’s mouth. “Impatient little thing,” you heard Taehyung coo, behind you but a mere temporary spectator like Jimin. Yoongi too moved his finger in line with your rhythmic rocks, pulling his finger away until just his tip laid nestled between your weeping walls, then pushing into you when you rocked backwards, knuckle deep. Hoseok caught on quickly and thrusted his hips gently, shallowly fucking himself into your mouth. It wasn’t enough to make you gag, but to kiss the back of your throat with his tip every time. His moans were shameless now, matching your muffled ones.
Your sounds were gradually becoming more whiny, more drawn out, drool pooling around Hoseok’s girth as your rhythm grew sloppy. You attempted to keep all semblance of sanity as you barreled closer and closer to your climax. It was clear that you were trying desperately hard to hold yourself, but you seemed to forget that all eyes were drinking up your every move and twitch. “Y/N, you can’t be close already,” you heard Taehyung say incredulously. If not for the fact that your mouth and mind was so preoccupied, you would’ve loved to give a snarky reply to him to say yes, it is entirely plausible for you to cum at any second but the only thing you could manage was a muffled whimper. Hoseok suddenly withdrew from your mouth with a wet pop of your lips to move his fist fast along his cock, the wet, slick sounds of his pre-cum and your saliva coating him with ease sending you into a dizzy spiral. “I wanna hear how pretty you sound when you cum,” Hoseok purred, leaning down briefly to peck your spit stained lips. Just then, Yoongi slipped a second digit between your folds and your whole body quivered, the stretch his fingers offering being mind-numbingly delicious. He didn’t waste time in pumping his fingers — he knew you could take it — and creating lewd, slick sounds with your cunt that was practically dripping. Jungkook beneath you had let his tongue simply lay flat and push hard against your clit, allowing you to chase your orgasm as you pleased. Your hips were now bucking against Jungkook’s face with no abandon, embarrassingly close. “‘M gonna…” you whimpered pathetically. It was towards all the men in the room, but Hoseok was the one consuming you entirely. His finger stroked over the warm plump of your cheek soothingly. “Make a mess for us, be a good girl. Look at you taking hyung and Jungkook so well,” his voice cooed. Hoseok’s voice coaxing you closer to the edge, Jungkook’s mouth massaging your folds and Yoongi’s fingers stretching you out so thoroughly was more than enough for the tension to snap.
Your orgasm came crashing through you, forcing a cry from the pits of your throat. You clamped down on Yoongi, hard, while your hips stilled on Jungkook’s mouth. However, he wasn’t so keen to let you go so easily. His hands, strong and steady, forced your hips back and forth on his tongue, vibrations radiating through your pussy from his groans. Yoongi too moved his fingers in line with the way Jungkook moved your whole body. They rode your orgasm out better than you could’ve imagined doing yourself. A string of curses fell from your lips effortlessly as your body shook, coming down from your previous high. You had almost drooled from the sheer force behind your cum.
As your eyes refocused and took in the surroundings, Jungkook emerged from beneath you, pushing your thigh ever so slightly to prompt you to raise your leg so he could get to his feet. His eyes were unfocused, lips swollen, your slick coating his chin. It was almost enough to make you cum then and there. Yoongi too withdrew his fingers from your hole, coaxing a gasp from your lungs at the loss. One finger made its way to his lips, where he placed it on his tongue and closed his lips around the singular digit as he made his way in front of you. He was still fully clothed, much to your dismay. Hoseok fell back a few steps, giving his wet cock slow, languid strokes as he witnessed the scene before him. Without a single word, Yoongi withdrew his one finger and posed both before your mouth; one slick with your essence and the other wet with his saliva and whatever remained of you. You took his venous fingers in your mouth with a soft hum, eyes flicking up to meet his gaze. It was carefully placed, unreadable. It was intimidating while simultaneously arousing. A throb thrummed through your clit with a fresh pang of want, despite you still reeling from your most recent orgasm. “Such a good fucking slut,” he groaned lowly. The unexpected word of degradation was enough to pull a soft whine from you, but you could feel yourself wetten instantly.
Behind you, suddenly, you could feel a hand press against your back. Though the hand was warm, it was cooler than the others you had felt on your flesh, so you knew this was someone who was yet to play with you. Detaching yourself from Yoongi, you turned your head back and your heart dropped to your ass. There Namjoon was, bare, drinking up the sight of you from behind. Then, you felt his tip nudging at your entrance. The fact that your underwear was still haphazardly pushed to the side was not lost on you. The smoothness of the warmth, where it usually offered some level of natural rigidity, informed you that he was sheathed with a condom. You were glad that he took the initiative to make the responsible decision — you were unsure if your mind in its current state would come to the same conclusion. You toss your eyes across the room to meet Seokjin. While the rest of the group were either partially clothed or naked, Seokjin was still completely covered, down to the birthday sash. If it was worth noting, his crown had long been discarded on the coffee table amongst the sea of empty alcohol bottles. His eyes bore holes into yours, dark and sinister. Inviting was not the word for his brown orbs which drank you in from across the room, but rather compelling.
“She’s so wet,” Namjoon rasped lowly from behind you. His cock moped up a tear of your wetness running down your thigh, all the way up to your pleading cunt. It was there that his bulbous tip slapped against your wet folds a few times, making you whine and roll your hips back, in the pathetic hope that his dick would somehow divinely slip into your needy hole. “How selfish that you want his dick so much even though you just came?” You heard Yoongi speak, tone lazy and unamused at your misconduct. Even if you had the words to retort against him, Namjoon’s head pushing his way inside you was enough to shut you up instantly. The stretch he offered your pussy was nothing short of incredible — the need radiating through you was so intense you may as well have not came in the first place at all. Namjoon’s warm hand caressed your spine as he worked his girth into you slowly, just as Jimin and Jungkook appeared before you. “You can help us out, can’t you Y/N?” Jimin purred, voice honey-sweet, the two languidly stroking themselves in front of you. Maybe you were certifiably cock drunk, but you couldn’t have thought of better things to put in front of you at that moment in time. As if it were second nature, you leaned in closer to leave a small, delicate peck on the very tips of their members. Jungkook shivered instantaneously, but quickly recovered, if his hand traveling to your jaw to stroke over your cheek informed you of such.
By the time Namjoon finally bottomed out, you were adequately full and the breath had been knocked out of your lungs. His hands, ever soothing, rounded the curve of your ribs to cup your breast in your hand, while he leaned over until his chest was plush against your rear. His chin subtly rested on your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek. “You remember the safe word?” He mumbled, voice low. You were positively hypnotised by how full you felt, your walls fleeting to accommodate his pulsating length. Words lost you, a long and stretched beat of silence as your mind fumbled for the word. “S-Strawberries,” you choked out after what seemed to be an eternity. You were nothing short of ready and willing for all of them, no matter how spent you’d end up being. You heard Namjoon hum lowly in satisfaction. His hand crept its way from your breast to cradle your neck, holding it in a secure grip but not squeezing to restrict your breathing. In doing so, he carefully guided your head to face Jimin’s cock, starting to leak precum from the sight before him. You could hear the sigh he heaved become shaky. Obeying the elder’s unspoken instruction, you let your jaw fall slack and allowed him to push his hips forward, his dick hot and heavy on your tongue.
Satisfied, Namjoon rose from your body and straightened up, gripping your ass in his hand. His hips began to drag, painfully slow, as if you allow your cunt time to memorise his every vein, ridge and bump. Your whimper was stifled, what with Jimin filling your mouth so nicely. His own mouth was flooded with raspy moans as your lips wrapped tightly around his cock while you sucked earnestly. The way Namjoon teased you (more realistically, being a gentleman and allowing you to grow accustomed to his size) with the way his hips moved like molasses; sticky, slow moving and hard to remove from your memory any time soon. Busying yourself in order to get your mind off how dizzy you felt being stretched on Namjoon’s dick, your hand raised up to wrap around Jungkook’s length, stroking ever so steadily. You feel his hand wrap around your wrist, prompting you to stop jerking him, until you hear him spit. The saliva falls squarely on his hard dick, the viscosity clinging onto his flesh as it crawled over his girth. Still allowing Jimin to rock his hips into your mouth, your fingers caught the newly found lube between your fingertips and your palm glided smoother along his cock, delightfully twitching under your grip. After what seemed like an eternity, Namjoon’s thrusts grew a little faster as your cunt began to suck him in more, your walls speaking the words your throat could not produce. Jimin’s hips began to snap sharper into you, eventually prodding into your throat. You gagged, a little taken aback by the suddenness of it all. However, you didn’t take long to recover — soon, you were relaxing your throat to swallow his member deeper. You could feel Jungkook grip the back of your hair to force you to do the one thing you’d been avoiding the most, which was meeting their eyes. Both of them were flushed, either from alcohol, arousal or a mean mixture of both. Jimin’s mouth fell slightly ajar, broken moans falling from his lips, whilst Jungkook put in a bit more effort into seeming a little more put together than his counterpart, deep hums settling in his chest with every flick of your wrist on his heavy dick.
Namjoon’s moans brewed low in his chest as his hips met with yours at a controlled speed, fucking your walls with deep strokes you could almost feel in your chest. The mewls you offered were muffled and silent, your eyes doing all the communicating. Drool leaked from your mouth to Jimin’s girth, slowly dripping onto the armrest underneath you. “You’re doing such a good job,” you heard Hoseok coo, unsure of where he was. “I’m sure she can handle more than that,” Yoongi spoke, appearing alongside Jimin, similarly naked. He sounded unimpressed, still, and whatever he was doing was working because you wanted nothing more than to make him proud. Almost like a signal, Namjoon’s hips immediately started snapping into yours quicker, slamming into the flesh of your ass repeatedly. At the same time, Yoongi’s hand clasped with Jungkook’s at the back of your head and pushed you further into Jimin’s crotch until your nose was plush against his pelvis. Whatever grunts you had to offer were lost to mere vibrations on Jimin’s cock, causing his thighs to quiver and his eyes to roll to the back of his head, head rocking back at the sensation of your throat milking him so well. “Look at that,” you heard Taehyung coo from behind, a hand coming down on your ass in a resounding smack. You were so occupied that you found it easy to lose sight of the men around you if they didn’t have direct contact with you, making you feel further dizzy — you were completely at their mercy and they loved it.
When you eventually lose enough breath in your lungs, you raise teary eyes to Yoongi, who seemed so preoccupied by the sight of you getting fucked in more ways than one that you were unsure if he would understand or even acknowledge what you were trying to communicate. Thankfully, he wasn’t too distracted so as to completely neglect you; Jungkook and Yoongi’s hands drop simultaneously, allowing you to drag yourself off of Jimin’s length with the most lewd wet dislodge you’d ever heard in your life. As you gulped down air, a string of saliva delicately joining from Jimin’s slickened cock to your swollen lips, a string of curses in the form of whimpers breathlessly with the way Namjoon’s dick was stroking your walls with ease. Whatever little pain or discomfort that laid in wait from the stretch no longer existed; he was thoroughly fucking you open in a way that you didn’t think was possible. As much as you’d love to bury your face in a cushion and endure the leader’s punishing pace a little longer, your greed meant that you also wanted Jungkook buried down the confines of your throat. Your hand, still stroking him, stilled at the base of his cock while your mouth sunk down on him. His precum, beginning to leak, welcomed a new flavor profile to your taste buds. Your head immediately stilled once most of his cock was in your mouth, mouth falling ajar. It was his signal to take your mouth as he required, and luckily he took the hint. Tucking his bottom lip into his mouth in concentration, he took a few seconds to monitor the way Namjoon pounded into you, down to his bruising grip on your hip, the lewd wet drag of his cock in your sopping cunt and the repetitive skin slapping of his hips meeting your ass over and over. With this, he aligned the movement of his hips with Namjoon’s, so whenever he thrusted forward and your body rocked forward in return, his hips thrust into your throat to meet, ensuring his length was adequately buried in your throat.
It all teetered on the edge of downright disgusting — in some people’s books it was way past that point. You felt Namjoon’s chest press against your back once again, pace slowing. All this while, you thought Namjoon was relatively quiet in bed. However, with his mouth now at your ear biting and sucking deep bruises into your shoulder, you could hear his low, guttural moans of your name; they went straight to your core. Just as the familiar tightness of your core began to wound, it was gone just as quickly as it appeared; Namjoon suddenly rose up straight and pulled himself out of you. A whine bubbled in your throat despite Jungkook’s length, but soon you were filled up once again. Though similarly covered in latex, you could feel that the path of the cock buried inside you was different. Then, a small laugh informed you that Taehyung had taken Namjoon’s place behind you. Sure enough, Namjoon appeared before you with Jimin and Jungkook both stepping back, Yoongi ever-patiently stroking himself. Taehyung, much to your surprise, started off slow, opting for deep, slow strokes. He was admiring the way in which your pussy gripped him with each stroke, still comfortably tight despite Namjoon’s feral fucking. His hand pressed into your lower back, prompting you to arch it a little more so as to perfect the angle at which he was fucking you.
“Let me take a look at this little gem,” Taehyung panted. You suddenly feel his fingertips skim around the metal rim of the butt plug that lay snugly inside you, forcing you to take a deep breath. “You should taste the mess you left on me sweets,” You heard Namjoon cooed above you. You were so torn between who to pay your attention to, but with Namjoon’s eyes being so intensely trained on yours you had no choice to obey. Your tongue darted out and lay heavily on his slick girth, allowing the taste of your essence to leak onto your muscle. It wasn’t a foreign taste to you by any means, but it tasted particularly addictive when clung onto Namjoon’s flesh. His moan was guttural, so deep it vibrated in your chest. Meanwhile, Taehyung’s thrusts remained steady, pulling out to where the head of his cock laid throbbing within your walls and pushing in until his pelvis was against your ass. He was fucking you deep and thoroughly; you had no place to hide if you wanted to scurry away. His moans feel in the way of soft hums under his breath, sometimes just mere sounds and others curses. His fingers curled around the flat handle of the butt plug and pulled it with care, watching your puckered hole desperately cling onto its flared base. A whimper escaped you before you could stop it, but you diligently continued to lave your tongue over Namjoon with utmost efficiency. “Greedy hole’s just begging for some attention,” Hoseok growled lowly. He sounded so dark, so did the other members, chords clouded with lust and want like thick syrup.
A cry escaped you once the plug was freed from your tight hole, feeling the warm air of the room immediately take its place with the plug’s absence. You heard shuffling, somehow knowing the other men in the room bar the ones in front of you were moving to see how gaped your hole was on display. “You’re so stretched,” Taehyung moaned, the pad of his finger circling the tight muscle. Just as you wrapped your fingers around Namjoon’s cock, now ‘clean’, and stroked him with a firm grip so as to take Yoongi’s head into your used mouth, you suddenly felt Taehyung’s thumb intrude into your other hole. You were so stuffed it was overwhelming. A surprisingly quiet whimper ripped from your throat at the sensation. “Taehyung,” you’d whined, but your mouth and throat was adequately occupied by Yoongi, so your muffled sounds were only heard by the two men in front of you who offered you smirks at your compromised state. With his thumb firmly seated within the walls of your other hole, Taehyung’s hips began to drive themselves into you; an unforgiving pace that rivalled that of Namjoon’s. The sound of skin slapping that echoed across the penthouse suite was insanely lewd. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, unable to express how pleasure was wrecking your whole body. If it wasn’t good bad enough, a member’s fingers (You could tell it wasn’t Taehyung, maybe Jimin? You weren’t sure if you cared) started to make quick work with your swollen, neglected clit. Almost as if he could sense your concentration would fail due to the newly added stimulation, Yoongi’s hand traveled to the back of your head and deeply stroked into your mouth, making sure his dick invaded the back of your throat with each push forward and almost completely fell from your lips with each pull back. You couldn’t even find sounds, let alone words to uphold what you were going through. It was all too much in the best way possible. Your hand on Namjoon never ceased, diligently massaging his girth.
“You’re close aren’t you?” Jimin rasped, voice carrying a glint of joviality at the scene carrying out before his very eyes. You audibly gagged in response to his question. He was right; that familiar knot was being wound right within the deepest part of your core, your thighs quaked, your muffled cries sounded more desperate, Taehyung’s cock drilling into you became slicker, yet sucked him in. “I can feel it, her pussy’s squeezin’ me,” he grunted. Despite this, his pace never relented. Yoongi, wanting to see you fall apart again, pulled his cock out of your mouth with a satisfied deep moan. The hand on your head moved to your cheek, stroking your warm flesh. “Come on doll, cum for us,” Namjoon encouraged, voice sweet yet wavering due to your continued stimulation on his slickened cock. “Already cumming twice?” Yoongi said, his voice annoyingly level. “We’ve barely touched her.”
The orgasm ripped through your body, oddly coaxed on by Yoongi’s shaming words. A silent scream left your mouth, but the way your entire body shook was more than enough of an indicator that you had reached your peak. Taehyung’s pace slowed and Jimin’s (?) fingers mirrored Taehyung’s riding you through your orgasm. Unexpectedly, a groan from above snapped you back into reality. Your hand still jerked Namjoon off, but your pace had stagnated with your quaking; apparently, seeing white was enough to similarly push Namjoon over the edge. He took over from you, his fist gliding along his length which twitched incessantly in his grip. “I’m gonna- fuck,” His voice uttered, cracking with the intensity of his incoming high. You, though partially spent and still being fucked through your orgasm, leaned towards the leader and let your aching jaw fall agape, letting his head rest against your bottom lip. “Good girl,” Yoongi said. His tone was a little more light, and the rare praise from the man sent a fresh wave of arousal through you despite you recovering. With a deep, drawn out groan which signified the final crack in his sanity, thick ropes of white suddenly stretched across your tongue, partially catching your top lip. You eyes flicked up, curious. His head was thrown back. veins prominent on his neck. sweat beads adorned across his chest. The sight almost had you ready to go again immediately, so much so that the sensation of Taehyung pulling out of you slowly and the mystery fingers withdrawing from you was a torturous form of teasing to you. Your tongue naturally darted upwards to swipe along your top lip and let his essence linger on your muscle, heavy, salty and thick. Without requiring any coaxing, your throat worked to swallow his load dutifully with a deep gulp. Your tongue then darted out to lay on just the tip of his dick, still twitching, to wrap your lips around and suck whatever he had left to offer you. The moan you drew out of him was shaky with overstimulation, his rough hand quick to drag you off his length by the hair. It drew a small giggle from you despite yourself.
There weren’t many people who could string the words together to explain what you went through that faithful night; only you could live to tell it. The night settled deeper and deeper, the bite of the cool air becoming sharper. Each member, with the exception of Seokjin, used you thoroughly, in their own preferred way. Hoseok had you bouncing on his cock while gripping your ass, your head over the back of the couch and his shoulder while your mouth busied itself with choking on Taehyung. Jungkook was similar but in reverse; grip brutal on your hip as his hips drove up into you, other had snaked around to toy with your clit while Jimin tortured your peaked nipples. Yoongi’s strong hands held you upright as he pounded into you from behind, standing upright and one foot pointed poised on top of the couch. Jimin laid you flat on your stomach, the weight of his body pinning you down while his hips set a punishing pace. You’d fallen into around 4 to 5 orgasms, depending on who you asked. Your poor, gaping ass had been spat on, fondled and fingered and you earnestly wondered how none of them succumbed to temptation and push themselves into you — however, you were thankful; if you weren’t on the edge of passing out then, you would’ve definitely blacked out if you were filled in that way. They filled you up in multiple ways; your mouth, your body, even the sheer warmth of their cum filling the condom as the tension snapped deep within your cunt was satisfactory, though you would much prefer the other option. Your words gradually lost sense and clarity; you were certifiably cum drunk. However, they always took care to ensure that you could still enunciate the safe word if required.
Now, the night had long stretched. All six men were spent, cocks either half-hard or flaccid but all glistening from your essence or saliva. They were all laid across the long sofa, bodies subdued from effort yet still finding whatever energy they had left to spend on sparking fresh cigarettes or dragging their cascaded boxers over their legs to maintain whatever decency they had left after utterly disgracing you and your body. You were so, so fucked out, a blissful mess who blinked every so often when your body decided to play catch up, but you weren’t done. Not when the birthday boy hadn’t even gotten his share of his birthday cake yet.
With one strong hand poised by your head to balance himself and the other guiding his rock hard shaft towards your entrance, your hips weakly bucked towards him despite how limp your body felt. Your body threatened slumber, yet your mind demanded its full attention. Thankfully, Seokjin didn’t take much time to tease. His cock sank in with little effort, your walls happily fluttering to accommodate him. All you could muster was a whimper, making some sort of lewd marriage with his deep groan. Being the birthday boy, you naturally damned all consequences and gifted him the privilege in fucking you raw. Despite being taken in most sexual positions known to man that night, you were practically untouched; your cunt didn’t hold a single drop of deposited cum. However, your body could not lie to you — your insides throbbed with protest from use, yet the idea of quitting now sounded absurd, especially when his cock settled so nicely inside you. His hips remained stagnant for a long few seconds, simply admiring the way your pussy was stretched around the base of his cock, so willing to swallow him whole. Then, the purlicue of his venous hands hooked themselves under your knees and pushed them forwards, effectively folding you in half and trapping you. Ever multi-tasking, he did this in tandem with his cock pumping in and out of you steadily.
“You feel so good,” his voice spoke, but already began to fray at the edges. His hips rolled into yours with practised precision, as if watching his other six members have their way with you informed him on the best way to wreck you. His thrusts were slow, almost painfully so, yet so deep they punched the air out of your lungs with each stroke. You could no longer form intelligible words or moans — you only had the capacity for whimpers and garbled vocabulary that might’ve made sense on another part of earth. One of your hands wrapped around his forearm which held your thighs pinned against your chest, while the other dragged down his back, nails running over his ever flexing muscles. Your eyes remained pinned to the crude imagery of Seokjin’s shaft fucking you senseless, plunging into your wetness over and over — but suddenly, his forehead pressed against your own, forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Stay with me baby, I know you’re tired,” his voice soothed, shaky with effort but still more grounding than anything else around you. Though words failed you, you slightly nodded your head yes in response. His groans mirrored your own desperate sounds of pleasure.
t wasn’t immediately obvious, maybe because of your compromised state of mind, but Jin was actively trying to make you cum — while it was something that you would normally take in your stride, there was something particularly frightening about having to cum again. It was when he adjusted the angle of his thrusts until you let out an all-too familiar mewl that you became aware of his antics. He had found that sweet, clingy spot within the confines of your walls that had been repeatedly abused all evening. “P-please, I really can’t,” you whined, just about the most clear cut thing you had spoken in a long while. The nails on his back became desperate, digging deep crescent moons into his damp, warm skin. Somehow, that dragged a deep groan from him. “You can do it darling, can’t you? For me?” he whispered, sickly sweet. His voice never stopped being so kind, so caring, so encouraging. His body leaned down further against your body and pressed the sweetest of kisses against your lips. It was unlike the one that you two shared earlier in the evening; the movement of his lips was the true epitome of patience and longing, comfort all in one move. Your body protested, the throb of your cunt almost painful, and yet you still found the will to do what Jin needed from you. Sitting up a little straighter, one of the hands pinning your legs down moved to your swollen, angry bundle of nerves. He pressed the pads of his fingers down on it and rubbed in hard, deep circles to make you see stars. His thrusts quickened slightly but never lost its deepness. His movements attested to a man who was interested in not much else behind making your toes curl, and it was intimidating to say the least.
The only thing that fell from the elder’s lips was your name and soft moans, up until your head began to shake in disagreement. You were too far gone to verbalise that the tension building up to snap in your core was too much, too soon, and you truly didn’t believe you could do it. Then, the encouragement flooded in. “Don’t make me disappointed baby, I know you have another one in you,” he uttered. His fingers moved even faster on your clit, causing your legs to shake with effort. Tears prickled your eyes in an unspoken threat to spill over. There was nothing you could do within your own strength — you were barrelling towards your orgasm with no sign of stopping. Your breath was harsh, shallow and dragged, eyes heavy and your grip on reality quickly slipping, yet Seokjin did not dare to relent for even a brief breath of a second. His hips and fingers punished your senses in a way no word or violent strike ever could.
When your orgasm ripped through you, you almost swore you passed out. The scream that ripped from your throat was sure to ordinarily raise concern with no context, but it was pure, raw, unfiltered pleasure pulsing through your veins. Tears that shivered on your waterline finally spilled over and trailed into your messed hair. You saw white as you squeezed around the man’s girth, all your effort going towards grounding yourself. While his thrusts slowed and the circling of your clit lessened in intensity, you could tell that he too was trying to fend off his orgasm. His breath too struggled to stabilise and yet his priority remained getting you off. Despite this, you felt his lips meld with your temple, gently kissing the path of your tears away and enjoying the salt on his tongue.
It was when your shudders ceased (your body never stopped quaking, really — they just weren’t as intense) that Seokjin’s eyes glinted in a way you hadn’t previously regarded. It was then that you realised just how much he was holding back only specifically to force another orgasm out of you, to toy with you to the point of ruin. His waning patience was suddenly so evident. With a small huff of breath, you felt him shift above you, angling his hips differently. “Please forgive me in advance, baby,” his voice murmured darkly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, briefly unfocused, but you soon knew exactly what he was apologising for.
With newly found stamina and strength, Seokjin’s hips snapped into yours faster than before. Each thrust knocked the breath out of your lungs, deep and fast. The new angle meant the head of his cock used your sweet spot thoroughly; not even world renowned scholars could apply words to the sounds falling from your mouth. Jin’s previously light and airy moans almost fell completely silent and stoic, only the occasional grunt audible. His large hand found purchase on your breast, slickened with new sweat and dried streaks of cum from earlier activities. “Ji-Jiiiiin,” you pathetically whined, tears freely rolling into your hair. You were undeniably sobbing, yet it carried no negativity. Your body was far spent, used beyond any comprehensible level, and yet pleasure continually exploded behind your eyelids. Hey with Seokjin fucking you with the sole intention of making himself cum, your sick mind still found a way of revelling in it. The sound of skin slapping was awfully lewd, rhythmic, unrelenting and punishing, but your main concern was holding onto the edges of your consciousness that threatened to leave you bare. It hit that sweet spot of ebbing on too much, yet not quite enough to steal your wakeness.
“Fuck Y/N, you’re gripping me so tight,” he had muttered. His voice began to unravel, his thrusts growing sloppy as he neared his own orgasm. His carefully placed composure was slipping faster than he could manage to amend, yet he was still able to ground you. His muscular frame leaned over yours, hips stuttering yet maintaining its strokes, and raised a hand to stroke your cheek ever so gently. The contrast between his soft touch and his cock abusing your spot repeatedly was enough to make your head spin. Your sounds reduced themselves to whimpers and whines which may have closely resembled Seokjin’s name, prompting his comforting words. “I know baby, you’re so good for me,” he spoke shakily. “I hear you, I’m here.”
What seemed like mere words on the surface was seemingly the only reason you lived to tell the tale.
With a departing peck on the lips, his frame straightened back up again. It was then that the sweat pearling on his forehead and chest was evident. “Where do you want it sweetie? Use your words,” he cooed, his hand smoothing over your shaking thigh. Your brain scrambled to string words together, but after some struggle, you managed to simply point at your core that he was pumping into. “In-Inside,” you mumbled. The hum of pleasure he released in that moment was enough to send a fresh wave of heat through you; it was clear that he wasn’t exactly expecting you to want a creampie, but it was a pleasant surprise all the same. You, on the other hand, couldn’t think of anything else in the world that you wanted more than to be filled with his cum — a righteous award after such a good working night.
At that point, Seokjin let loose above you. As his resolve weakened, his bravado quickly came down. The previous fluidity of his hips became stuttered, sloppy and lacking its previous finesse. His occasional groans reduced themselves to drawn out moans and ragged breaths. His hand traveled everywhere — your breast, the curve of your torso, your quivering legs. He was desperate, almost as much as you were, but in your fucked out state you failed to appreciate his appearance. You especially couldn’t when all your focus was on not passing out from exertion and blinding pleasure. Finally, Jin leaned over you a final time to bury his face into the crook of your bruised, sweaty neck and moaned your name from the pit of his chest, voice slightly cracking. His hips slowed to shallow, slow strokes as his length throbbed incessantly within you, pouring white, hot ropes into your used cunt. The feeling was enough to make your shiver, your head rolling back against the plush of the couch beneath your bodies. His breath felt heavy on your neck as he peppered kisses along the curve, whispering your praises while he came down from his high. With a final, soft moan, you feel your body give into the temptation of falling under.
It was the streaming of light bathing your eyelids that woke you up first. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, squinting as they struggled to adjust to the sunlight shining unforgivingly into the room. You were surrounded by white bedsheets, soft and impossibly clean. Your eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t recall much after Jin fucked you; subtle flashes of being cleaned up and dressed flash into your memory, but nothing concrete enough to explain how you were on the couch and suddenly in a bedroom foreign to you. You sat up in bed, taking in the suite before you. It was still an environment you failed to recognise, but you could guess might’ve been a room within the penthouse. Eyes still squinting and head beginning to protest with an impending headache, you subtly swang your legs over the edge of the bed in order to sit up properly. On the bedside table lay an array of items; your dress neatly folded, a light waft of fresh laundry coming from its direction, your purse, your phone, an untouched pack of painkillers, an unassuming bottle of water, heat patches, a bright box advertising plan B along with a folded piece of paper within an envelope. Raising your hand to idly scratch your stomach (clothed with an oversized shirt), your other moved to open the note. After a few blinks, the inked page came into focus.
“The boys thoroughly enjoyed their night, I do hope you too enjoyed yourself. We have washed your dress and your intimate toy was returned to your personal suite. Please help yourself to what we have provided, don’t hesitate to contact us again if you need further assistance.”
As you read the swirl of the agent’s signature, your face warmed upon remembering your butt plug. If not for the fact that you had shamelessly let 7 men have their way with you, you might’ve felt a little more ashamed than you truly do. Your eyes spied the envelope only to happen up a thick wad of fresh cash, clearly collected straight from the bank. You could only assume it was a generous tip, seeing as you had already collected full payment prior. A coy smile played on your face, fingers flicking through the bills. You had a sneaking suspicion that this wouldn’t be the last time BTS book your service.
