#koob feedback (to reblog feedback on my writing!)
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if you feel uncomfortable with nsfw tropes or are under 18 PLEASE DO NOT interact with this blog, i will not hesitate to block anyone i suspect may be underage
HI!!!! i know i said i wanted to post before end of year but life got busy😓 i’ve been in the process of moving house while simultaneously trying to sort out everything else in my life going on LOL
if u were interested in the gyukook i was teasing i finally posted it to my ao3 ! i’ll link it in this post if ur wanting to read my non-straight writing
in regards to reqs, now that i’m out of this rut i’m hoping to genuinely make a start on them !!! if uve been waiting for me please just wait a lil longer🙏
i also made a twitter although i havent used a public twitter in a long time😭 if u want to follow me on there its @/s4ndcherry ! itll probs be more for ao3 stuff but ill also most likely post wips and updates over there too :3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
sorry for inactivity !!!!!! i have had no motivation whatsoever :( but i am getting back on my grind starting with some fujo indulgence that will be posted to ao3 rather than cross posting here
i have a couple of reqs to get to that i have been wanting to start for ages but im hoping i can get one of them released before end of year hehe
thank u all for continuing to love the works i have posted😜 much love to all of u
hello !! if you're seeing this again it's bc i've reuploaded it in order to make it a separate post <33 gonna start posting asks/reqs separately so i can tag the link in replies instead!!! tysm for reading!!!
wc: 5851
content warnings: detailed descriptions of insecurity surrounding weight & body image, internalised fatphobia, jungkook also gets insecure & a little toxic during an argument, jungkook is vulgar!!!!!! porn with a little bit of plot, jungkook is a munch, jungkook spanks yn a couple times, piv sex, descriptions of female anatomy, KOOBERRYFIELDS4EVER DISCOVERS A POSITION THAT IS NOT MISSIONARY!!!!!
MDNI !
He notices it in your face first, the way you’ve started to cover your chin in photos he takes of you, choosing to lean against your palm when you pose or asking him to take them from a higher angle. He chalked it up to new trends catching your fancy, never thought much of it. You look pretty, he’d compliment, and you would accept them with a sweet smile before deleting the majority of the photos he took. He had never even considered the fact that not once had you posted to your Instagram in over a month. He notices it next in your tummy, once on display with crop tops or low-rise jeans, now hidden away by baggy cargo pants, hoodies, and sweaters. He never minded. Yes, he misses being able to reach around your waist and stroke his fingers across your stomach, misses the easy access he had to your body and the intimacy of skin-to-skin contact that you’ve taken away from him. But, like his own, your style is always changing. Baggy clothes are in right now. It’s when you start to physically shy away from his touches, shrug off his hands and redirect his kisses that he senses something is really wrong. Sure, trends change, you’ll find new styles and your wardrobe will be endlessly rearranged. He’s sure you’ll find new poses for him to capture in a few weeks' time. Refusing his touch, though? No, never.
You love physical touch. Had said so yourself when Jungkook and you first started speaking, drilled it into his head that if this relationship was to go anywhere then he would have to get used to being your personal body pillow. He would joke that he hated it, would wrestle your hands away from him just to provoke a reaction from you, would sometimes place a pillow between the two of you in bed just to make you sulk so he could make it all better with a cuddle as an apology. Of course, he never really hated it – you were always warmth. Always comfort, ready to drop everything at a moment’s notice if he ever needed your touch. You’d card your hands through his hair when he was sad, scratch his scalp and kiss his head. He’d always search for you in cold beds and winter nights, and you’d always meet him with soft giggles and tangled limbs.
So why now, does it seem, that you no longer want him? Why is he met with a cold shoulder when he reaches for you at night? Why is the bathroom door always locked when you shower, when you used to gladly leave it wide open for him? Why do you refuse to eat meals with him, refuse his snacks, refuse to accompany him to the corner store when he wants something quick to eat? He paces the bedroom – ever the overthinker – and questions himself endlessly. The thought of losing you quite frankly makes him sick. He has to sit down, hang his head in his hands. Think. He doesn’t notice the front door opening and shutting, nor the gentle patter of your feet as you make your way through the apartment. Doesn’t hear you greet Bam in the living room with soft coos and gentle pets. He curses inwardly. His mouth is dry. He needs a drink.
When he opens the bedroom door, he’s met with you in a hoodie and leggings. He frowns, can’t help it, his head hurts and the way you immediately curl in on yourself doesn’t help. He sighs, brushing past you with a shake of his head and beelines to the kitchen. He can’t think properly, his mind is absolutely reeling. Feeling unbelievably nauseous, he downs a glass of water in an attempt to stave off the feeling of utter dread in his stomach threatening to release itself from his throat.
“Are you upset with me?” Comes your soft voice from behind him, and his head throbs. Why haven’t you wrapped your arms around his waist, yet? Why are you not massaging his shoulders, kissing his back? He turns to you, places the glass down on the counter beside him, meets your eyes. You look tired, sad even. Jungkook sighs.
“When were you planning on breaking up with me?” He asks abruptly, and you raise your eyebrows in genuine surprise, shaking your head in disbelief.
“What? Where did that even come from?” You fire back, feeling a certain anger rumble in your stomach at the accusation.
“You clearly don’t wanna be with me anymore, so when were you planning on ending it?” He’s surprised at his own combativeness; his hands are shaking when he crosses them against his chest. “Wanted to wait it out a bit? See if the feelings came back?”
“Jungkook, I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” you deadpan, furrowing your eyebrows, “what did I do wrong?”
“There’s someone else, right?” He scoffs, and the look of utter horror on your face makes his stomach drop. What is wrong with him? The neurons in his brain are firing all the wrong ways, making him say all the wrong things and feel all the wrong emotions. He’s not angry, never was, never could be – never at you. He’s scared, terrified even.
“Fuck you.” You spit. Jungkook’s never heard such venom in your voice before. Your lip wobbles, a telltale sign of what’s next and he curses himself when a tear slides down your cheek. You dot it away with the sleeve of your hoodie quickly, trying to save face, but Jungkook’s already crowding your space and wrapping his arms around you.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispers into your hair, rubbing your back and pulling you close to his chest. His heart breaks when you push him away, but he refuses to let you go. “Please, I’m sorry,” he begs, his hand instinctively slipping under your hoodie for the contact he’s been craving so badly, “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.” I’m scared, he leaves out. He kisses your head, and you flinch when his fingers run over your waist.
“There’s nobody else, but…” You whisper, gently pushing his hand away from your waist. Jungkook stills, doesn’t mean to move his hand away but does anyway. Takes a step back, in fact. “But, I don’t look good. I’ve been stress eating, and my clothes don’t fit me right, and you barely touch me anymore, and-”
“What?” Is all he can muster, not sure if his face is reading as total disgust, anger, sadness. You’re not sure, either, it seems. You meet his eyes, you look disappointed. “No. Nope.” You gasp when he takes your hand, questioning him when he drags you down the hallway to your shared bedroom. He doesn’t answer when you call his name, doesn’t say a word as he makes you stand in front of your mirrored wardrobe and stands behind you. He’s not even sure himself what he’s doing.
“Jungkook, stop it...” You pout, turning your head to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. This feels like some kind of sick torture technique, you never thought Jungkook could be this cruel.
“No, stop,” he orders, though quietly, his hand reaching around you to grasp your chin and turn your head back towards the mirror, “you don’t see what I see?”
“You’re not being nice.”
“What do you mean I don’t touch you anymore?” He avoids your accusation, has an end goal in mind now and will see it through or die trying. He keeps one hand on your chin, the other sliding over the fabric of your hoodie. He doesn’t want to push you too far but can’t help himself. He hears you sigh; watches the way your eyes avoid the mirror like the plague, like seeing yourself is that agonising. He sighs too. “You never want me to.” He adds on, hopes it’ll coax an answer from you, that maybe you’ll see his side of things.
“Because I don’t want you to feel how big I’ve gotten,” you say, frustration lacing your tone, finding his eyes in the mirror, “I don’t look as nice anymore.” You frown, unable to stop the tears as they slip down your cheeks. “The last time we had sex you wanted me to keep the covers on.”
He frowns too, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “You thought I didn’t want to see you? That’s what this is all about?” He releases your chin finally in favour of holding your waist with both of his hands, growing bolder and trailing his touch down to the hem of your hoodie. He sighs when you nod, never known you to be so fragile, so easily convinced. He sees the confliction on your face when his fingers slip under the fabric, wants nothing more than to kiss it away.
“I want you literally all of the time,” he continues, placing a kiss on your neck, grinning when you tilt your head away from him to give better access, “like all of the fucking time. Think about you when I’m at work, when I’m eating, when I’m gaming, I dunno.” He’s fishing for answers, groaning happily against the skin of your neck when, for the first time in weeks, you let him brush his fingers over the much beloved skin of your belly. He doesn’t like your silence, wishes desperately that you would say something, anything, but the look on your face tells him you’re untrusting of his words. Funny. Jungkook truly believes the sun shines out of your ass, but you can’t even believe he finds you beautiful.
“Think about you when I’m in the shower, when I’m brushing my teeth, when I’m doing anything. Wish you’d at least touch me, even if you don’t want me to touch you.” He groans, frustrated at himself for having interpreted all of the signs so wrong. That’s all he seems to be doing today. “You know how much I missed this? Missed running my hands over you, touching your skin, cuddling you? I wake up rock-hard most mornings, and you’re already out of bed, away from me. I never wanna push you too far, and you haven’t been in the mood. Would never push your boundaries.”
“Yeah, except now.” You whisper, and he chuckles. Maybe you’re being serious, he can’t tell, but he likes that you smile too. Likes the sound of your voice.
“Yeah. But it’s okay, right?” He grips your waist, lowering his lips to the sliver of skin he can reach with your hoodie on, the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. “You are the most gorgeous person I know; I thought you knew that. I genuinely couldn’t fathom you believing anything else. I’m so sorry,” he whispers into your skin, kissing back up to your pulse point and nosing your ear, “you’re perfect. Can I take this off? Please?” He practically whimpers, closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against your temple. He’s pathetic and hard, he knows you can feel it from behind you. Wants to press himself closer, but doesn’t want to push you.
Your hesitation is obvious, silence thickening the room. He doesn’t watch you now, wants you to see yourself, wants you to make the decision. His hands don’t roam. They sit firmly on your waist, an encouraging weight but nothing more. You think for what feels like forever before turning your face to him, resting your forehead against his own. His eyes open to find yours. They’re sad; his are pleading. He watches you nod so slowly, you’re still unsure but you know he wants this.
He really does. He can feel himself practically drooling when he turns back to the mirror, slipping his hands out from under your hoodie to grasp it. He takes his time, nudges you to look too as he lifts the fabric up over your stomach slowly. His eyes boring into your skin when your navel comes into view, then it’s the skin surrounding your stomach, your soft waist. Your bra finally comes into view, and Jungkook practically growls in your ear, decides to hold a brief intermission so that he can grab one of your tits and run his thumb over where your nipple should be. The fabric is too thick to tell, but you let out a hitched breath anyway and he smiles. He pulls away for only a second to slip the hoodie fully off of your torso, immediately finding your waist and pulling you back into him.
“Look at you, prettiest in the world,” he purrs, can’t help himself when he rolls his hips into the hollow of your back. His hands are gentle when they explore, fingers tiptoeing over your flesh and indenting it softly.
“I look big.” You offer back, part of you desperate to fish for Jungkook’s compliments. He frowns, spanking your hip to scold you before wrapping his arms around you to make a point.
“Wouldn’t be able to do this if you were as massive as you make yourself out to be,” he tuts, kissing the back of your head and resting his lips there, “think you’ll still look tiny sitting on my dick, too. Missed that cute little cunt of yours, pisses me off that you’ve been keeping it from me because of something so fucking trivial.” His voice is husky when he whispers the crude words into your ear, his grip on you becoming rougher but he can’t help it. It’s so infuriating that you would think Jungkook of all people could care about something like that. Makes him feel like a monster, like he’s somehow guilty of upholding this standard for you when realistically, you could look any which way and he would still love you.
He knows he can talk about his own body a bit too much, maybe conversations about his diet and workout routine made you think he was trying to convince you to be the same? Probably doesn’t help that he eats a lot of health foods during busy promotional periods and has a drawer full of supplements to keep his own weight in check. He never meant for any of that to reflect on you, though. You’re perfect in his eyes; with soft skin and ample curves, dimples in your lower back and freckles dotted across your body. He loves finding them, loves drawing the lines to connect them and kissing between the spaces. Loves when he fucks you from behind and his thumbs sit in those dimples like he imprinted them himself, makes him feel like you were truly made for him, like your body is moulded for him to touch, to kiss, to hold, to love.
He’s too busy in his own head to notice when you wrap your arms around your middle to hide yourself from him, how scared you look at the prospect of Jungkook seeing you as if he hasn’t already seen you a million times before. You elbow his hands out of the way and that catches his attention, makes him furrow his brows in annoyance. He slides his hands across your arms and catches your wrists, gripping them tightly before encouraging you to explore yourself the way he was just a second ago.
“I don’t get it.” He groans frustratedly into the back of your head, guiding your hands across your stomach, over your navel and over the skin of your lower abdomen. “Why don’t you see what I see? God, I’d give up everything to let you see yourself in my eyes. You’re like a fucking Messiah, my own little Aphrodite.”
“Aphrodite isn't a Messiah.” You respond quietly with that smartass tone of voice he loves, though slightly muted. He rolls his eyes and chuckles at your quick tongue, always itching to prove him wrong about something.
“Okay, and? The point is that I worship the fucking ground you walk, couldn’t picture a better death than in your arms...” He smirks, playing with the waistband of your leggings. “Maybe between your legs?” He laughs when you slap his forearm, but continues down the vulgar path he’s set himself on. “Would want my last breath to be with my tongue on that pretty pussy of yours, my last meal. You taste so good, always have. I know you love when I eat you out, too. Don’t you miss it?” He encourages, wants to hear you agree, wants to see the brick wall you’ve built up around yourself start to collapse. He’s kicking at the foundation as he speaks, finding the weakest spots and slotting the easiest bricks out at a time like Jenga. “You get so, so wet when I let you sit on my face. Think you know that I’d happily drown if it’s your snatch I’m drowning in. Don’t you want that, baby? Me to fuck you with my tongue?”
He reels when you respond with the softest “mhm” imaginable, gripping your hips like his life depends on it and pulling you back into his erection for some kind of relief. “Yeah?” He croaks, pushing your hair over your shoulder so he can start peppering kisses down your spine from behind. “I’ll do it, but you gotta do me a favour, m’kay?” Phase two of his master plan underway. He stands up straight, rubbing your hip gently and rests his chin on your shoulder to talk to you directly, wants to look you in the eye even if only through the mirror. You’re waiting for him to continue before you agree, leaning your head against his sweetly. “I want you to look at yourself the entire time. Not me, want you to face the mirror and see exactly what I see.”
You swallow nervously, scared to agree because that sounds like your worst nightmare. But Jungkook is so sweet, so kind and encouraging. Your eyes flutter shut when he turns his head into yours, kisses your neck gently, whispers how good he knows you can be for him against your skin. Your weakness has always been Jungkook’s gentleness. He lights fires in your gut and fans the flames with the softness of his voice, plants seeds and waters them with his delicacy. You find yourself agreeing, murmuring an “okay” and allowing Jungkook to guide you over to the bed. He’s preening, celebrating this victory by offering you a kiss on the lips as he encourages you to lie down with your head turned towards the mirror.
It’s different this way. You’re not so disgusted with yourself when you can see Jungkook in the mirror looking at you in awe. Your eyes remain on him, scanning over the broadness of his shoulders. He looks larger when he has clothes on, his t-shirt hiding away the lean frame you were once so used to. You suppose you’re still used to it, but the giddiness that bubbles in your stomach at his touch feels new. Your gaze lowers to his hands, you can see the flex of his shoulders through the fabric, how his fingers pry at the fabric of your leggings before slipping them down your legs and off your body, tossing them onto the floor carelessly. He turns his head to the mirror then, meeting your eyes with a stern face.
“Not me.” He instructs, and you begin to feel shy again. You haven’t sat with the reality of your body for so long. Against the sheets, you look frumpy. There’s a roll in your waist and a curve to your stomach now, it quite frankly makes you feel a bit sick. You’ve never been model thin, you don’t think that’d be possible with Jungkook’s feeding habits, but you’ve never been this big. Realistically, you aren’t even big. You don’t even see a problem with it on others, you know plenty of bigger people who you are even envious of. You just don’t think it looks right on you. Their bellies remain flat where yours curves above your navel, their hips are round where yours dip and flatten. Their skin is smooth and their boobs stay perky, you have cellulite and your nipples are starting to droop.
Your mind blanks when you feel Jungkook’s thumb press into your belly, using his free hand to pull off your panties and toss them onto the pile with your leggings. You don’t know how he does it, how he manages to draw you from the deepest crevices of your insecurities with his touch. You want to look at him so bad, but you don’t want to disappoint him. You want to be good. You keep your eyes on yourself, on the indent of his thumb in your abdomen, on the rise in your hips when he finally lowers his mouth to your pussy and the way your chest shakes with a hitched breath when he nudges your clit with his nose. You pull one leg back to plant your foot in the mattress, letting the other fall sideways to spread yourself open for him. He thanks you with a mumble of praise and wraps his lips around your clitoris to suck on it gently. You moan, it’s been so long since you let him touch you like this and you can feel yourself growing wetter against his tongue. He’s lying flat on his belly while he eats you out, burying his face between your legs and holding your hip. The thumb digging into your tummy is pressed deeper, like he thinks you’re going to push him away. You wouldn’t, couldn’t, so you lift your hips up into his face and whine for more.
As expected, he obliges. Dives in a little deeper and dips his tongue past your entrance, ensuring you don’t slip from his grasp. His other hand meets the fabric of your bra and you can feel the vibrations of his irritated growl in all the crevices of your pussy. It makes you whine, clenching around the muscle of his tongue as you rut into his face for more friction. He pushes at the cups haphazardly, desperate to release your boobs from their confines and play with them. You can’t control the way your eyes flutter shut, biting your lip when Jungkook’s fingers toy deftly with one of your tits, squeezing the flesh and rolling your nipple between his fingertips. You’re certain his eyes are shut too, but a sharp pinch to your breast has you letting out a surprised yelp and sitting up on your elbows to scold him. His eyes meet yours sternly, separating from your lower lips for a moment to tell you off.
“You’re really bad at following instructions.” He mumbles, coming off whinier than intended. You can’t help the giggle that leaves your throat at the sound of his voice; Jungkook has never been too good at being domineering. Never in all the time you’ve known the man has he ever truly intimidated you. He groans, feigning annoyance, but presses a kiss to your pubis before resting his forehead against your tummy. “Can you please just try?” He asks so quietly, and you swallow hard at the almost pathetic tone of voice he’s using to get you to obey. You hadn’t intended to be difficult, but you hadn’t really considered the anguish you would be in just from seeing yourself.
Watching Jungkook instead is like a Hail Mary, a saving grace between glances at your own body that bids your churning stomach time to settle at the sight. He’s so pretty, you’ve always thought this. Even now, resting against your belly with pleading eyes, Jungkook is the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen. You turn your head to the mirror again and see the hopefulness in his gaze when he lowers another kiss to your sensitive skin. His hair is a mess of black atop his head and your eyes follow the curve of his neck down to his t-shirt. You grumble quietly, vexed by the fact that he’s too covered for your liking, but continue your observation down his right arm anyway. You follow his tattoos down to his fingers and gasp when he moans into your folds and tightens his grip on your hip. You notice too, then, the way his hands fit so perfectly against you. It makes you smile. For the first time tonight, despite his tongue dipping back into your folds and his lips wrapping around your clit making you pant, you can’t take your eyes off of yourself.
You hook your leg over Jungkook’s shoulder, digging your heel into his lower back and rutting up into his mouth desperately. He chuckles into your heat and hooks his hand around your thigh to delve in deeper. He loves the sounds of your moans, music to his ears like a melody played staccato; your back arches off the bed but you keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror. He seems to be rewarding you now, pleased by your submission, and your mind short-circuits when his fingers join his mouth at your core. Your fingers tangle in his hair, encouraging him closer still – of course he heeds, dipping his middle finger into your hole and curling it. He doesn’t need much coercion to add another, your wetness and willingness is evident from a mile away, but Jungkook still groans in pure awe at the sight of you taking him.
Your moans devolve into a babble of his name as you draw closer to climax, clenching around him and shutting your eyes. He doesn’t punish you this time, accepts that you’ve done well enough for him, and instead watches your face as he sucks on your nub and strokes at your g-spot until you come hard around his fingers. When you finally open your eyes, your chest is heaving and Jungkook is holding up his wet digits like a trophy, bringing them to his lips to lick clean before journeying up your chest with determination.
“You saw, right? What I see?” He whispers, kissing up your happy trail slowly. You nod, but Jungkook isn’t watching – on purpose, you assume, to coax a verbal confirmation from you. His kisses travel further up, but he doesn’t ask again until he reaches your chest and presses a single kiss onto one of your nipples. “Can you tell me?”
“I saw how pretty you looked.” You respond, just to be a little difficult, but the way Jungkook deflates has you backtracking immediately. “We, I saw- I saw how pretty we looked.”
“But what about you?” He’s so genuine in his questioning, not spending as much time on your tits as he personally would’ve liked. He crawls up until he’s hovering directly over you, planting his hands on either side of your head.
“I looked good with you.” Is all you can muster up, but it seems to satisfy Jungkook as he lowers himself to meet your lips. The kiss is so slow, so gentle, and you can taste the subtle savouriness of yourself on his tongue when he guides it past your lips. Your hands wrap around the back of his neck like second nature, and he moves one of his own to your hip as the kiss grows more heated. He grunts into your mouth when he grinds himself against you, and the weight of his erection is dizzying. You swallow the noises he makes, holding him close to you and rutting your own hips into his movements.
“If I don’t fuck you in the next five minutes, I might die,” he murmurs, hand wandering across your hip and up to your waist, “no kidding. I’m too hard.” He adds when he hears you giggle, offering a final peck to his lips before pulling back a little.
“I’m right here, aren’t I?” You whisper sultrily, nuzzling your nose against his. He hums appreciatively, kissing down to your jaw with a grin. “You’re the one with all the clothes on.”
“Not how I want you, need you from behind.” He practically growls, and you swallow hard when he sits up to tug his shirt off and finally reveals what you’ve been craving so ravenously. You don’t hesitate in reaching forward to rub up and down his torso, trailing your fingers over the ridges of his pecs and abs with fascination. He chuckles and grabs your wrists, shaking his head as he stops your exploration. “I like this and all, but I need you on your stomach, like, yesterday.”
“That doesn’t feel fair, you had your fun,” you complain, scooting back on the bed while he sits on his knees above you, “and I don’t even get to touch?”
“Nope. Belly, now.” He commands, though his tone is far from domineering. He sounds desperate, and he looks it too. His body is flushed, his cheeks and shoulders tinted red as he gives your hip a spank and encourages you to turn over. You grumble a small protest but do so nonetheless, peering over your shoulder at him as you raise yourself to your hands and knees and dip your back. He tuts, placing a single hand on your ass and pushing you down until you’re flat against the mattress. He’s quick to shuck off his sweatpants and boxers, then reaches down to finally unclasp your bra. You sit up on your forearms to allow him to usher the straps off of your shoulders, leaving both of you naked on the bed.
“Eyes on the mirror, please.” He smiles down at you, reaching out for your ass cheek to give it a firm jiggle and a slap. You turn your head obediently, trained well by his consistent praise and repetitive instructions, and look at the way he positions himself over you from behind. He moves himself steadily between the small part in your legs, groaning when his tip brushes against your folds, rutting forward and sliding himself against the wetness coating your skin. You part your legs even further and reach back to take a hold of his length for him, preening at the way he drops his head and mewls. You’re desperate too at this point, so it doesn’t take long for you to guide his tip to your entrance and he’s even quicker to shove himself in.
You both moan, breaths shaking as he pushes deeper and deeper until he’s fully sheathed inside your heat. You continue to watch, endlessly awestruck by the sheer size of him compared to you – even despite your weight gain, Jungkook looks massive. When he pulls out, he’s glossy with your arousal, and when he thrusts back in you can almost feel him nudging against your tummy. Especially in this position, Jungkook feels impossibly deep. You groan when he grips your hips and you watch as his thumbs press into the dimples in your spine and he smirks, unknowingly to you because he’s been thinking about exactly this for weeks.
“I fit perfectly,” he growls, pulling you back onto his cock in order to reach deeper, “pussy was built for me, mm? You see?” You can feel the way his fingers stretch around your lower back to grip at your stomach while his thumbs stay firmly planted in those dimples, and it makes you shudder.
“Y-Yeah!” You moan, all you can do at this point is agree because he is so right. Not just your pussy, despite the fact that he fills you unimaginably well, but everything about the way your bodies interact with each other makes it obvious that you were made to be loved by him. Nobody else’s hands could fit so perfectly around you, could fill in your crevices and divots like plaster and make you feel so whole. You count your lucky stars for having Jungkook in your life to love you the way he does because you’re certain no-one else could. Even now, between sweaty skin and lewd noises, Jungkook stares down at you like he’s seen God; his lip trembles between his teeth and when he spots you looking up at him he grins and pins himself against your back. His hands leave your hips to wrap around your belly from underneath, holding your back tightly against his chest as his thrusts slow to an intimate roll.
“I love you, I love you,” he babbles into the back of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair and whimpering at the underlying notes of sweat, “I love you so much, never hide from me again.”
“Sorry. I love you.” You whisper back, breath hitching as you try to hold back your tears. This is all so intimate, it hurts. Jungkook is moving inside you like he could die tomorrow, making a home in your pussy and carving his initials into your cervix. He kisses the back of your neck breathes heavily against the shell of your ear, one of his hands trailing up to cup your tit and play with it gently.
“Gonna cum.” His hips are already picking up their pace, barely withdrawing himself from your heat in favour of grinding against your inner walls and cervix delicately. You turn your head to him and reach back to stroke his hair as encouragement, your own orgasm nearing as you feel yourself tightening around him. He nods, the silent agreement between you is enough for him to fuck you through both of your climaxes as he spills his cum into your heat and buries himself to the hilt when your walls begin to pulse around him. The noise that leaves his mouth is genuinely pathetic, but neither of you care in your post-orgasm bliss. He keeps his chest pressed tightly against your back, rolling slightly onto his side to spoon you instead of laying directly on top.
You can only handle a few minutes of cuddling like this until it all feels a bit too uncomfortable. Even Jungkook agrees, separating himself from you and leaving the bedroom in search of a wet cloth before returning with a bright smile. He’s silent as he cleans you, gentle when he wipes over your back, and then turns you to face him so he can clean between your legs and rid you of the sweat beading on your chest. He throws the cloth on the floor to meet your piles of clothes and clambers next to you in bed to cuddle you.
“Hi.” You offer him a smile and he returns an even bigger one, kissing your mouth.
“Mm, hi. Missed you.” He mumbles against your lips, gripping your ass cheek and separating from you to nuzzle your neck as he pulls you closer. “Don’t ever do that to me again, that was torture.”
“I’m sorry, I got in my head.”
“Me too. But you see it now, don’t you? How beautiful you are?”
“I do.” You wrap your own arms around him, giggling when he kisses your neck playfully before splaying himself out against your chest, holding you as close as he can.
a/n . . . 🗒️ hello !!!!!! second long post to here… i love asks and i love requests and i love making your ideas come to life in my head 🤍 this was incredibly fun & challenging to write and i’m happy to finally share with you guys !!!! your support means the world to me & i love hearing from you even if it’s criticism so please shoot me whatever you wish !!!
jungkook fanfics that has a special place in my heart! 💗 (part 1)
A collection of the best (and most well-written) fanfics I've had the pleasure of reading. Thank you for brightening my days and touching me with your words.
cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive (jungkook x reader) fwb!au completed
ukiyo by @kooktrash (local beach boy!jk x city girl!reader) summer romance au completed
neighbor blunder by @awrkive (neighbor!jk x reader) ongoing
the love prognosis by @awrkive (surgeon!jk x surgeon!reader) medical!au ongoing
lucky by @kooberryfields4ever (jungkook x reader) completed
bbdaddy series by @muniimyg (co parents jungkook x reader) exes au ongoing
it’s hard to believe by @ahgasegotarmy116 (jungkook x reader) completed
never thought by @yoongiphoria (jungkook x reader) completed
singing in the shower by @author-ssi (jungkook x reader) completed
bad habits by @hannieehaee (spiderkook!jk x reader) completed
yearning by @soft4gguk (idol!jungkook x reader) fwb! completed
keep thinking about jungkooks folio and how wonderful he looked and my brain cant stop reeling thinking about writing a prince!jk au…… but i shall sleep 😁😁 haha
hello !!!!!!! was not expecting this to get as long as it did nor did i expect the turn but what can i say i am a creature driven by self satisfaction……… :( anyways originally this was gonna be like a 1k max drabble bc i rewatched jks sleepy eepy sweetie live and he was twitching and looked so pretty that i HAD to write something domestic !!!! but i am an ANIMAL and thinking about jungkook sleepy in the morning made me feral😇 hope u enjoy!!!!!!!!
wc: 2500+
content warnings : fluff & smut below the cut, light nipple play, fingering, jungkook has a cute panty kink(?), jungkook is an unstoppable force, piv sex, gendered terms (the word “girl” is used & detailed desc of female anatomy), messy orgasm
MDNI !
You’ve been awake for ten minutes now, just watching Jungkook twitch in his slumber. It’s early morning – a little after 8:00AM – and he looks so unbelievably beautiful under the gentle sunlight flittering through the blinds. With a soft smile on your lips, your eyes trail over his eyebrows, paying attention to how they raise and drop in his unconsciousness, moving down to his relaxed jaw and the divots of his shoulder blades when your gaze lowers. The gentle rise and fall of his back as he breathes and the fist that keeps clenching and unclenching while you lay beside him makes your smile widen. Jungkook is a breath-taking sight, looking so at peace while you observe him. His muscles are softer in their unflexed state and you can’t help it when your finger finds his right triceps and paints shapes over it. His tattoos are next on your list of targets, and soon your wandering finger is tracing the inked motifs like you’re re-carving them into his skin, following the lines and curves of the patterns as if they were new to you.
They are very much not new to you, though. You think you’ve studied them over a hundred times, committed them to memory, made them so indelible in your mind that you’re sure you could redraw them perfectly if he ever asked. You chance at moving your touch to his fingers, watching his face amusedly when you lift his hand to inspect them and he furrows his brow. The soft letters adorning the bones of his joints are met with the pad of your thumb as you stroke them adoringly, fighting the desperate urge to kiss his calloused palm when the tips of your fingers press against the rough skin. Your fingers don’t get to explore for long before he opens a single eye suspiciously, curling his fingers around your hand to stop you.
“Good morning,” his voice is deeper, sluggish, yet gentle still through the rasp. “You having fun?”
“I was,” you smirk, intertwining your fingers with his instinctually, “until you so rudely interrupted me.” His thumb rubs your knuckles sleepily, bringing them to his lips for a chaste kiss, turning onto his back, pulling you closer to his chest and tucking his other hand behind his head.
“Mm, my bad.” Comes his short reply, blinking his eyes open once again to find yours. His fingers card through your hair when you sit up on your elbows, leaning against his solid frame. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip while you allow yourself to continue observing him from above now that he’s awake.
“Do you know you twitch a lot in your sleep?” You ask, reaching over to rub some sleep from the corner of his eye. Your thumb runs over his cheek, then down to his lower lip, dragging it down playfully and watching it bounce back when you let go abruptly. He shakes his head slightly to answer your question but sits quietly, content to just let you fiddle, fondly mirroring the smile you offer him when you lean forward to press your foreheads together. “I should’ve filmed it. You almost knocked me out.”
“Instead of leaving me in peace?” He quirks a brow, tilting his head back to press a kiss to your lips quickly before lowering it again. “I don’t think I’m capable of hurting you, even if I’m unconscious. It’s written out of my biological code.”
You giggle, shaking your head. “As if I would’ve let you anyway, we both know I'd win in a fight.”
Your lips chase his naturally, and he hums sweetly when you connect them again, smirking. “Is that a challenge?” He mumbles into your mouth, you feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer still before flipping you onto your back effortlessly. He continues kissing you like that.
“Because I really beg to differ,” he ruses, trailing a hand down to the back of your thigh to hold your leg up against his hip. “Think I’d win in a heartbeat.” Another kiss. “How easy was it for me to get you like this?” His hips move against yours in a slow motion, making you very aware of a growing presence between his legs as it presses against you through all your layers of clothing.
“You play dirty, that’s why,” you joke back, pushing your palm against his forehead. He moves away from your lips to attach his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone delicately, the same way your fingers did to him minutes ago. “Caught me off guard, that’s- that’s not fair,” the small moan that leaves you after your stutter is unintentional. Curse Jungkook and how easily your body gives in to his ministrations. You loathe the way he seems to revel in it too, snickering when he moves his hips again.
You lean your head back against the pillows when he pushes your tank top up over your tits and you can feel his lips enclose around your nipple. It’s not a fair fight, Jungkook knows that. Knows that when his teeth brush against the darker flesh it’ll pebble against his tongue. Knows that when his hands slip down past your waist and hips, your legs will spread instinctually for him. Knows that when your fingers tangle in his hair, he’s got you.
“Could die between your tits,” His muffled voice knocks you out of your pleasured trance, and you hum in acknowledgement. He’s resting his face between your breasts rather lovingly now, kissing the skin between them with a hand on your waist. The hand tangled in his hair falls to his nape, scratching at the baby hairs grown out from his last haircut.
“I wouldn’t encourage you to.”
“Couldn’t be the worst fate.”
His response has you rolling your eyes, “No, a worse fate would be me beating you to a pulp because you thought you’d win in a wrestling match against me.” He chuckles, looking up at you and resting his chin on your chest with a soft pout.
“Seemed to like my approach a second ago,” he murmurs, crawling back up your body to kiss you again. There’s no underlying motive behind it, he just really likes your lips on his. You give in because, despite your argumentative nature, you like his lips too. He kisses you lazily, knee slotted between your legs, half-heartedly holding his body up to stop himself from leaning all of his weight on you. Your arms drape naturally over his shoulders and around his neck to keep him there, and you can feel his smile against your lips.
“You still hard?” His only response is the subtle grind of his hips against yours in affirmation and a slight lowering of his hand on your waist, on a slow but steady mission.
“Should I be offended that you don’t seem to be doing anything about it?”
“Gettin’ to it, jus’ let me kiss you.” He licks into your mouth sweetly, chasing the taste of you. Tries to pull you impossibly closer when you chuckle, spurring him on even more. He bites your lower lip, his wandering hand finally slipping past the waistband of your pyjama pants and brushing over your underwear. You can feel him smirk when he finds the small bow on the front, parting from your lips to slip your pants down to get a good look at them. They’re childish, pink and polka dotted and old; you’ve had them since before you and Jungkook even started dating but hardly wear them anymore.
“Cute.” Is all he says, and you roll your eyes before reaching down to pull them off. He grabs your wrists, meeting your eyes sternly. “Keep ‘em on.”
You slip your hands from his grasp, nodding hesitantly but obediently. You watch him curiously when he focuses his entire attention on your clothed pussy, entranced by it, pressing his fingers against the damp fabric to watch it cling to the shape of you, darkening with your arousal.
“Fuck, they’re so cute, baby,” he babbles, not really even speaking directly to you, just thinking out loud, “can I fuck you with them on?” He asks sweetly, kissing your chest and keeping an eye on you as he waits for your answer. You nod, combing your fingers through his hair when he peppers more kisses across your tits as a thank you. He pushes the fabric aside slightly to gain access to your pussy with no restrictions, not hesitating to sink his middle and index fingers past your opening. He knows you’re wet enough, preening when he hears your breaths turn to soft moans. He’s so familiar with your body now that curling his fingers up against your g-spot is second nature to him. You encourage him wordlessly, watching him work while his head still rests on your chest.
He knows you, so when you start to tighten around him and your moans turn into held breaths, he withdraws from you. You go to protest, furrowing your brow annoyedly, but he shushes you.
“Gonna have you come on my dick, baby.” There’s a brief pause while he separates from you to push his boxers down and take your pyjamas bottoms fully off too, grunting when he strokes himself languidly above you before rubbing his tip between your dripping folds, still fascinated by the panties he made you keep on.
“So pretty,” he coos, and for lack of better judgement, you nod. “So fuckin’ wet, love when you get like this for me. All for me.” He’s egging you on, coating himself in your arousal and pressing his forehead to yours when he sinks the mushroom tip of his cock past your opening. It’s calculated and slow, you think it’s to tease you, to prolong your frustration even longer; truthfully, it’s because Jungkook is embarrassingly close and wants to make himself last as long as he can.
“You wore these the first time I fucked you,” he admits, sinking deeper into your walls and breathing against your lips, “all I could think about for the rest of that week was getting to fuck you again, you were so perfect.” He pulls out slowly, before pushing back in, deeper this time. You let out a half-moan, half-breath, and he repeats until he’s fully seated inside of you.
“Wanted to fuck you with them on then, too, thought they were so cute.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Thought it was pervy, thinking your panties were cute and wanting to keep them on,” he chuckles, kissing you gently and quickening the pace of his hips to fuck you faster, “think you would’ve thought I was a creep, wouldn’t have let me. Was easier to make you think I just wanted to take my time undressing you.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”
“Mm, you’re well trained now.”
His words get him a slap at the back of his head, and he laughs with you. The amusement doesn’t last long however, and soon he’s hiding his face in your shoulder to piston his cock in and out of you. You curse under your breath, letting him grip your thigh to guide your knee to your chest, wanting to fuck you deeper. He tuts, frustrated at the fact that he can’t get as deep as he wants, and soon your knees are over his shoulders with his hands holding your hips while he fucks you vigorously. He’s grunting animalistically, his tip prodding your cervix over and over, the corona of his cock rubbing deliciously against your g-spot every time he pulls back.
“Touch yourself.” He instructs from your shoulder. It’s gentle, you know he doesn’t mean to come across as commanding but you like it anyway. You’re quick to obey, of course, and soon you’re trailing a hand down to your own pussy to start rubbing at your clit. He wants you to finish, that much is apparent, and you assume it’s because he’s trying to hold off his own orgasm for you. It’s wordless between you when you feel the familiar band in your stomach begin to tighten, and your free hand wanders across his broad back, digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades in such a contrasting way to how you were so gentle only ten minutes ago. He grunts, knows you’re close because you’re clenching around him and he can feel you holding your breath. He kisses your collarbone as silent encouragement, and a few more strokes has you coming undone around him, finally releasing your breath and pulsing around him in a way that has you nearly pushing him out.
“Gonna come, where you want it?” He asks quietly, knows your answer but wants to hear it. You always want it inside, and Jungkook is always more than happy to oblige.
“On my panties.” Comes your surprising reply, and Jungkook’s pupils dilate to proportions you didn’t think were physically possible. He stops moving, dropping his grip on your hips to brace his hands against the sides of your head and hold himself up above you.
“I think I’m gonna throw up,” he jokes, dipping down to kiss you fervently, picking up the pace of his hips again, “you’re so fucking perfect, you want me to come all over your panties, baby? Want me to make a mess?”
You’re not stupid, you know as much as the next girl that if there’s anything a man likes more than coming inside, it’s staking his claim. Of course, semen washes off - but the thought of Jungkook painting your panties white even makes your stomach flip. You nod, and he doesn’t need any more persuasion before he pulls out of you and sits up in order to stroke himself, a singular goal in mind. Your panties are still tucked to the side so he can see all of you as his fist pumps his cock quickly. You observe him, his cock is still wet from your arousal and his tip is so swollen and red that you’re unsure how he lasted even this long. As expected, he doesn’t last very long, and soon thick white ropes of come are shooting from his tip and coating your pussy and the fabric of your panties. He’s shuddering, curling over on himself before collapsing beside you on the bed.
“C’mere,” he pants out, slipping his arms around your middle and pulling you toward him, “this was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”
“Really wasn’t, I was doting on you.”
“Feeling me up is ‘doting’ now?”
You push him away playfully, but he keeps his grip on you, laughing when you turn around to get away from him. He pulls you back towards him and spoons you.
“I was being cute and you made it pervy, like always.” He can hear the pout in your voice, so he mumbles something in agreement. Knows there’s no winning here when he just came all over your panties like some kind of neanderthal. He rubs his hand over your belly, kissing your shoulder blade affectionately to keep you close. Your own hands cover his, intertwining your fingers once again and snuggling sweetly into him.
a/n 🗒️ as always tysm for reading !!! if u have anything to say pls do i love to hear from ppl and reflecting on criticism is my driving force 💆♀️ reqs/asks are open !!!!
Have absolutely loved coming across your writing😍😍 your characters are cute, smut is well written both sexy and sweet😭 I look forward to your future posts including an insight into boob lover kook 🙏 I wondered if I could throw in requests, all suggestions might suggest at my own mental health oops. You are ofc free to use or not use any. Jk noticing oc withdrawing a little and getting more self conscious idk if it's bc she's gained some weight or something whatever, a lil argument happens, mirror sex perhaps, prone bone perhaps. None of this is original but I'd love your interpretation 👀
ohuhujghgugubuhguhu😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 every time u guys compliment me i feel like sobbing!!!!!!! first of all thank you all so much for the love on “lucky”!!!!!!!🫶🫶🫶 the support means the world to me and so many people have said so many kind things about it im genuinely overwhelmed😭😭😭
second of all……….. ur ask is my command anon💆♀️ i will so gladly indulge in these jungkook thoughts with u thank u so much for suggesting 🙌
did not expect this to get as long as it did either so please forgive me🙏 i promise it was just meant to be short and sweet and i lost the plot!!!!!!!
hello !! if you're seeing this again it's bc i've reuploaded it in order to make it a separate post <33 gonna start posting asks/reqs separa
i belieeeeeve this req will be finished by tonight‼️ should be just around 5k words before editing, and i don’t think i’ll actually have to do much editing at all rly cos the draft has been repeatedly getting combed through as i add to it. excited to post that maybe tonight or friday <3
summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.
non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 15.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k
warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho
<- part one (wc: 14.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)
note: yaaay full fic is out 🥹💕 i’ve been so attached to these two for the past month i’m gonna miss them sm :( reblogs and feedback are appreciated i’d love to hear your thoughts 🥺 p.s. it does get pretty heavy so pls take care of urself while reading 🫂 hugs and kisses
—
jungkook lets out a big yawn, removing his glasses so he can wipe off the sleepy tears from his eyes. his phone pings with a new text message and he peers down at the table to read them.
01:18am
stop texting.
why are you still awake? you have that big presentation tomorrow.
you need your brain functioning at full capacity so you can answer the prof’s questions.
he types out his response.
01:20am
i want to sleep too but i’m not yet done practicing 🥲
if you’re on a mission to make him fall hopelessly in love, it would be safe to say that you’re succeeding. instead of being a distraction, here you are showing concern for his health and motivating him about his studies. he’s not used to having this kind of dynamic with the people he likes. usually he’d be stubborn and stay on his phone, but he puts it down so he can refocus on his slides. he’s excited to do his presentation well and gush about it with you at the end of the day.
twenty minutes later, a rapping at the door disrupts his concentration.
“he better not be drunk.” he grumbles on his way to the door.
no one else would disturb him at this time but taehyung.
but it’s not taehyung.
it’s you.
“i didn’t wake you, did i?”
“no, no- i was still-” he takes a glimpse at his messy desk. “practicing for the presentation… uhm, i thought you were at work?”
“we don’t have work today.”
you nonchalantly bring out a glass full of green goop from your back, encouraging him to take it.
“here, drink this.”
he stares at it in bewilderment as he slowly accepts it. “what’s this?”
“bedtime smoothie.”
you sense his disgust and foreboding.
“there’s bananas and cherry juice in there.”
that knowledge emboldens him to take a sip. he licks off the mustache it leaves on top of his lips. “hmm, not bad!”
“i told you so.” you send him a tight-lipped smile which disappears in two seconds. “do you want some help practicing?”
“oh, that’s right.” his eyes widen. “you’re good at speaking!”
he steps aside so you can pass through the narrow entrance.
“please come in.”
jungkook is compelled to make himself clear. he hasn’t invested on a shelf. never found the time. his room may look like a mess to an outsider’s eyes but he has an organized system and he’s incredibly resourceful.
“jungkook… you can’t live like this.”
is it that bad?
his jaw slacks when you pick up a plastic bag on the floor and begin throwing in the scattered empty cans and bottles of caffeine on and around his desk, including the one he hasn’t finished drinking yet. that— he won’t win defending.
“you’ll die at this rate.” you rebuke him calmly. “do you even drink water?”
“of course i do!” he proceeds to drink the smoothie you made for him. “but you drink a lot of coffee too.”
“not anymore,” you head to his fridge after dumping the plastic bag in the trash. “i’m already adjusted to my job… i’m taking these.”
you bring out the two remaining cans of energy drinks and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie.
“you can’t just take them!”
you ignore his protest. “is the smoothie good? you like it, right?”
his shoulders deflate in defeat. he takes another gulp and swallows, nodding happily. “i like it.”
“then i’ll make you an energy-boosting one when you need it. i received fruit baskets at work. they’d only go bad if i try to eat everything alone.”
“sounds like a sweet deal,” he grins.
he’s definitely not complaining. the artificial flavoring of the energy drinks pale in comparison to the real thing.
“okay, let’s get started then.” you pad over to his desk.
you hand him his laptop which is displaying his powerpoint before making yourself comfortable on his chair.
he stands infront of you awkwardly. “we’re really doing this?”
“we are,” you reply curtly, sinking further into the chair. it’s a pretty big chair, even for him. it’s endearing to see you play around with it. “are you nervous? you can’t be nervous.”
“i’m not,” he lies. “i’m a professional!”
you have no idea that you make him more nervous than having forty other people in the same room.
he sighs. “hold this for me then.”
you take the glass into your hands, sipping a little. he clears his throat and pretends that didn’t affect him at all.
“okay, let’s start… good mor-”
“wait-” you shake your head, demandingly waving your hand to the right. “wrong slide.”
—
“where are you? i thought you were going to help me with my project?”
jimin, a friend he met through a school organization two years ago, begins coughing dramatically over the phone. “jungkook, i’m sorry. i’m feeling under the weather.”
jungkook grimaces, stopping on his tracks to berate him. “hyung, i can hear the dj music!”
“ah, yes…” he can practically hear the wheels in jimin’s brain turn. “actually, i’m about to leave the club! since i’m not feeling so well.”
“wow,” he huffs out a laugh. “you’re really terrible.”
“i’m serious! let’s reschedule tomorrow. i’ll buy you dinner so we can catch up too.”
“fine,” he blows a loud breath.
“i love you, jungkook-ah.” jimin proclaims with exaggerated affection.
he makes a noise of disgust. “you’re really drunk.”
“oh, why aren’t you saying it back?” jimin angrily questions him.
“maybe i will, after you buy me food.”
“okay,” jimin cackles. “i’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“okay, goodbye.”
he drops the call, still uncertain whether jimin was lying or not. either way, he gets a free meal and he no longer feels the need to complain.
he shrugs and continues his journey home.
that is until he inhales the unmistakable scent of smoke from the alleyway.
again, it could be anybody, but there’s a peculiar feeling that won’t let him move forward. deja vú is what they call it. it is often described as bittersweet, but jungkook is nervous. scared even.
he doesn’t want his gut feeling to be right.
he knows what your sobs sound like, their effect on him and his heart that is awfully weak when it comes to you, but he wants to be wrong so badly.
right then and there, jungkook faces a dilemma.
those who hide do not want to be found.
he has the choice to keep walking, pretend that he was never here. that it doesn’t hurt him to walk away. he can do what he failed to do the first time and not jump in to interpret your crying as a cry for help.
he stands there like a fool waiting for the stars to spell out the correct answer for him to read.
unfortunately for him, life doesn’t work that way and there isn’t even one to wish upon.
you flicked his forehead and erased his memories. if he makes the same mistake twice, then maybe he can use that as an excuse to lessen the burden of regret.
—
you flinch and lift your head in fear when something bumps against your knee, but that fear soon morphs into an entirely new fear when you perceive the person sitting infront of you.
your bloodshot eyes make out jungkook’s features in the dim light.
you’re no stranger to that look. you know what you look like. the cigarette tastes terrible, it doesn’t smell better with liquor either. there are teardrops on the ground and your sobs are caught in your throat and they come out as hiccups. you wouldn’t even dare to call yourself a mess, because scattered pieces of a broken whole float on the surface and sometimes miraculously wash ashore. you’re at the rock bottom being eaten alive and you’re not going anywhere else.
“just walk away,” you croak out, pushing him away with the hand not holding the cigarette.
he doesn’t budge. you don’t know if it’s because you’re too weak or he’s too strong.
“i can’t leave you like this.”
“you can,” you argue.
“you don’t have to be alone. i’m here.”
he holds your arms, coaxing you to recognize the sincerity in his eyes. those wide doe eyes, always shining when you reflect on their irises. you wish they could stay that way forever. you wish you could be at peace with that.
“you can confide in me. you can use me. whatever you need to feel better. ____, please.”
“you can’t help me.” you bluntly assert. before he begins begging. before he says more swoon-worthy words that would break down the walls you’ve built. “i appreciate the thought, but nothing you can do will make this better.”
god knows that you’re yearning to hear them, but you still don’t know how much of it you can trust.
“maybe i can!” he interjects. desperately. his grip on you tightens a little. it steadies your body as your mind and heart fall apart, but you feel suffocated.
“jungkook, i don’t want to fight right now.”
“if you just let me try, ____. i’m here for you. i swear i won’t pass judgement or-”
“you can’t! okay? you can’t!” you break down, uncontrollable sobs making your words less coherent. “you’re just wasting your time!”
with every morsel of strength you have left, you force yourself to stand up. an unnamed object clatters on the ground and you shove jungkook to the ground without meaning to.
a combination of hurt and shock flashes across his face. you become racked with guilt.
however, this is what you wanted. this is for the best. you’re supposed to live a quiet life and not get too close with anyone, but you don’t cause a person this type of pain, and you don’t feel this guilty about it, if your hearts were never intertwined.
you should be the one to walk away.
every step you take to escape from him is heavy. you’re confused by the contradictions between your mind and heart and the last thing you need right now is confusing. what else can you do but run?
jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, stopping you on your tracks.
“what are you doing?”
the world stops for a little while.
“let g- let me go!”
you struggle out of his embrace, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed he let you go so easily.
“you think a hug’s going to make me feel better and fix my life? are you that naive…? wow, i envy you. if it was that easy, i wouldn’t be at this fucking dumpster with you!”
maybe you’re even angry that he did, pounding away at his chest with rigid fists to break his heart too. your throat is painful and rough from screaming but the thought of losing your voice doesn’t occur to you. apparently, you don’t care that you’re burning your lungs either. the world may very well end at this moment because that’s what it feels like. you have nothing left to lose but this vessel— and this vessel is heavy, worn-out, and incurable.
you’re an overflowing sink of adrenaline rush, shaking and tearing apart at the seams.
“i never would’ve ruined my hair with this- this stupid color. i wouldn’t be getting cursed at by bigoted strangers because they hate my accent…”
your forehead collapses on jungkook’s chest. a string of sobs follow the words that were forcefully uttered against your better judgment. you would’ve been fine after a smoke and a good cry, not processing anything so you can settle with being numb instead of jaded.
“i’d still be studying. i’d become a doctor. i wouldn’t give a fuck about fishes and what they can and can’t eat.”
—
for the first time, your laugh stabs him in the chest instead of making his heart flutter.
“i’d be living a good life not being bombarded by someone who-” you hit his chest with every word spoken with gritted teeth. “wants to be the fucking hero. i don’t need you!”
there’s no way. you don’t mean that. you’re just angry. jungkook convinces himself in his head as he openly takes the hits. he did say you could confide in him—use him—and you’re doing it right now. he just didn’t know he’d have to grow thicker skin on the spot to be what you need.
your icy glare pierces through him and renders him motionless.
“you can’t do anything, so please, don’t feel bad for me.” you sneer. “it’s making me feel bad for you.”
—
you’ve stormed off and jungkook stays right where you left him, wiping away his tears. the last time he cried was when his ex-girlfriend broke up with him. that was over a year ago, it only dawns on him now.
you’ve been the only person in his mind since that one sunny june day.
where he stands, the autumn winds are getting colder and the winter is fast approaching.
just as fast your lives were weaved into a blooming wildflower did it also begin to wither.
jungkook does want to save you, but he doesn’t want to be a hero. after all the time you’ve spent together, do you sincerely see him as someone who values self-interest most of all? the truth did come out, the snide truth, a bitter pill he can’t swallow. you don’t want to be here. he can’t save you. it can’t be possible when he’s part of the picture you can’t stomach to look at.
“hyung,” he tries to be strong but his voice wavers, echoing the wretched state of him. “are you still at the club?”
“i’ll turn on my location.” jimin responds without question, which jungkook is thankful for. “call me when you’re near. be safe, got it?”
“yes, hyung,” he ends the call.
he inhales sharply, hoping that would alleviate the weight on his chest and allow him to move his feet. the heavy smell of burnt chemicals still hangs in the air. even after everything, he’s envious of the discarded stick of drug on the ground for having touched your lips.
jungkook turns to leave, but is interrupted by a small object caught underneath his shoe. he picks it up for inspection— a blue lighter hand painted with a goldfish.
he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
—
you woke up with a pounding headache, burdened with immense regret you assume. you deserve it. you don’t remember the exact words you said but you only scream when you don’t know what you’re talking about. you pushed away the only person who cared enough to sit with you in the dark. the line between right and wrong is blurring. you don’t know what you’re doing with your life anymore, if you’re doing anything so that it could be heading somewhere.
you thought life couldn’t possibly get worse, but here you are anxiously nibbling at your nails as you wait for a man to reply to your texts because you’re scared of losing him.
08:25am
jungkook i'm sorry about what happened last night i never meant to act that way and hurt you. i was out of my mind
i know you really care about me and i'm grateful for that
please forgive me
09:13am
[attached image]
you gaze wistfully into the aquarium. the fishes swim around with considerably more energy after their breakfast, and it drives you to wonder if jungkook fed them dinner. last night was the first night you received no messages from jungkook, not even an image alone.
“i think i fucked it up with your dad.”
you spot dahlia, and clementine, and coral, and tangerine… blissfully unaware of you drowning in misery.
accordingly, the wildcard emerges from the shipwreck. it swims to you, the glass acting as the barrier that prevents it from kissing your nose.
it doesn’t do this to jungkook, so you like to think that you’re special. you feel guilty that you failed to treat it the same.
“poor thing,” you hang your head in shame, sniffling. “we haven’t even named you yet.”
—
you learned from the new security guard on the night shift that jungkook requested for her to take over feeding for the meantime. three more days pass without any sign or trace of him, and yet you still send him your good morning pictures and you hang out at the lobby waiting for him to come home.
he has to come home soon.
he still lives here… right?
11:47pm
how long will you ignore me?
where are you? i'll come to you
please, let’s talk
you jolt on your seat when your phone vibrates with a ping!
12:01am
jungkook:
meet me at the rooftop
you are charged with joy and relief as much as confusion.
there’s… a rooftop?
—
you stand at the door staring at jungkook’s back, gathering all courage to face him despite your shame eating away at you.
“i didn’t know tenants were allowed here.”
“we’re not,”
he looks back at you, and surprisingly enough, his charming smile melts away your anxiety. you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or bad thing. it’s not right for you to fall in love.
“why are you still standing there?” he chuckles. he sits on a low table with his legs crossed, feet tucked beneath his thighs. he pats the space next to him. “here, sit.”
with a nod, you close the door behind you. you sit beside him, but with considerable distance, like the first time you sat next to each other.
“the view is quite nice.”
in consideration of the time, you didn’t expect so many lights. they look like shining stars from where you are, only that you can actually reach for them if you try. you even spot a ferris wheel. although, you’re not certain if it’s from the amusement park jungkook works at.
“it is, isn’t it?”
“do you go up here often?”
“not since the aquarium became our spot.”
our spot.
you smile to yourself, eyes falling on your lap as you mindlessly fiddle with your fingers.
“i’m sorry… for what happened.” you pause to swallow the lump in your throat, breathing shakily.
as ever, it’s difficult to apologize to someone and agree that there are dispensable parts of you. you’re scared that you might cry again infront of him. it never ends well.
“i-i was having a bad day, and i didn’t want to drag you down with me. but i got overwhelmed by my emotions and i said words i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry.”
“hey, i understand.” he replies kindly. “it’s also my fault.”
“no, it’s not.” you jump in, not being able to stand him taking blame. “you’re a really good person, jungkook.”
he shakes his head. “i should’ve backed off when you told me to leave.”
“but i do like being with you.”
“and you mean that?”
he gazes at you with those endearing doe eyes. you look somewhere else to quell the funny feeling in your heart.
“of course i do.”
jungkook crosses the distance between you, teasingly bumping his shoulder against yours. “i like being with you too.”
just an hour ago you thought you’d lost him, now he’s here effortlessly making you laugh. perhaps you do take life too seriously, submissive to fear. you weren’t always like this. you wish you could unlearn the new way that you function.
“so do you forgive me or should i grovel more?”
“i forgive you.” he rolls his eyes. “i’m not that mean.”
“apparently i’m the mean one between us.”
“you are,” he chuckles, leaning back and balancing himself with his hands anchored behind on the table.
for some sick reason, this new position of his leaves you hot and bothered. thankfully, you’ve mastered the art of maintaining a calm demeanor. albeit, it’s not always that you use it for this reason.
“you seriously hurt my feelings back there, you know that?”
“i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry.” you apologize more expressively within the more comfortable space the both of you created. “…when is your birthday?”
his forehead wrinkles in confusion at the random question. “why?”
“you’re my friend.” you point out. “we should know these things at least.”
“it’s on september one.”
“what?!”
he blinks innocently. “what?”
“it’s already november!” you point out, taken aback by the fact that you totally missed it. “why didn’t you tell me?”
“you were busy with work. besides, it wasn’t a big deal. i just had beer and meat with my friends.” he shrugs, brushing it off. “when’s yours?”
you rise on your feet, dust off your bottom, and begin marching towards the door.
“where are you going…? yah, ____!”
“i need to do something.” you vaguely inform him, waving your hand. “stay there! wait for me!”
—
“what’s taking so long?” jungkook thinks out loud, scratching his head.
it’s been fifteen minutes since you left. you couldn’t have forgotten about him already, could you? that might hurt him worse than when you were screaming and punching his chest. he slept over at taehyung’s dorm for a few nights, hoping to find some peace and clarity within a different space, but he was pretty much ready to forgive you when you texted him to apologize, then followed it up with a photo of coral eating. however, taehyung went on and on about his wounded pride, and maybe he did want to see you grovel and feel that he is at some level of importance to you.
he perks up when the door opens and your head pops out of nowhere, peeking. when did you put on a cap and face mask? did you go out? anyway, you’re so cute, he gushes to himself.
“close your eyes!”
“why would i do that?”
“just do it!” you demand with an angry pout.
“okay, okay- fine!” he surrenders. “i’m closing them now.”
“no peeking. i see your eyelashes moving.”
“how do you even see from there?!”
he hears your scoff and the clicking of your shoes as you walk. “you’re not sleek, you know?”
a series of rustling. a mystery object placed on the table. he gets a whiff of your perfume, powdery and fruity sweet, the next second, you’re tying a silk scarf over his eyes.
“what’s happening?” he laughs nervously.
he knows that is not what’s happening, but the impure thoughts enter his mind anyway.
“i need a minute.”
you sit beside him, your knee bumping against his. he hears more movements take place.
“can i remove it now?”
“i said a minute.”
he frowns impatiently. “a minute has passed though.”
“no, it hasn’t.” you counter. “now hush and cover your ears.”
“cover my ears?” he repeats to make sure he heard you correctly.
“yes!”
“why?” he whines. “what is this about?”
“just do it, please?” you plead with him sweetly, covering his ears with your hands as if to demonstrate.
and since he’s already too deep into this, he obeys your third instruction. he puts his hands over yours, and then you slip away, leaving him covering his ears the way that you wanted.
“okay, you can look now!”
jungkook removes the scarf over his eyes, and discovers a sight so beautiful, he wants to cry that he can’t permanently capture it in a polaroid.
this is the first time he’s seeing you in this light, the warm orange glow of birthday candles that paints you spellbinding golden. you’re beaming at him, with a rare smile that reaches your eyes, as you hold up a round chocolate cake topped by fresh strawberries.
just when he thought it was impossible to fall in love with you harder, you begin singing the happy birthday song. instead of clapping, you sway your body ever so slowly and gracefully. what is arguably considered the jolliest song on earth, you transform into a soft lullaby— the kind that flies you to the night sky and tucks you into bed on the moon, gathers the fluffy clouds and handcrafts them into pillows and a blanket. your voice is light and delicate, sweet as candy. it is an instrument on its own and you do not need anything else. he never knew you were a good singer.
“happy birthday, dear jungkook~ happy birthday to you…”
this is his best birthday yet, and it’s not even his actual birthday.
jungkook is stupidly and hopelessly in love with you.
he welcomes doom, hangs its coat, and pours it a hot cup of tea.
“i hope you like chocolate. i fought someone for this.” you shyly confess with a laugh. “turns out there’s not many bakeries open at midnight.”
he is speechless.
his gaze falls on your lap for a moment, where lies an opened plastic clamshell container, two strawberries too small compared to the ones decorating the cake. on the table, a fruit knife sits on top of the cake box.
you even decorated the bare sides of the cake with half strawberries. he doesn’t think he has seen someone do that yet.
“i- i like it so much.” he stutters. “you made the cake so pretty.”
“thank you!” you beam at the compliment. “okay, time to make a wish.”
he panics a little. he doesn’t know if it’s only a personal or perhaps a universal thing, but he tends to feel pressured when he has to make a birthday wish. he always wants a lot of things.
“five candles means ‘i’m sorry and happy birthday’ by the way.”
but there is five candles, so maybe he is free to be greedy this time.
he slowly flutters his eyes shut, and he takes his time to think. after whispering his wish to the universe, he blows out all of the candles.
“what did you wish for?”
there is five candles, but he only wished for one thing.
“if i tell you…” he begins, transfixed eyes tracing down to your lips. “will you make it come true?”
they part slightly as your chest begins to heave, cranberry stained and inviting.
he yearns, he craves. he doesn’t want to live with regrets, haunted by the what if’s. all or nothing. you deserve his all. he surrenders everything to your court for the touch of your lips.
are you thinking what he’s thinking? do you feel the way he does?
tell him he’s not the only one losing his mind. please.
and when your eyes lock, there is a palpable electricity none of you can deny.
“it’s for your birthday. you don’t have to ask.”
again, the best birthday ever.
without another word, he crosses the short distance, pressing his lips against yours.
there is no fireworks like in the movies and fairytales. instead, he gets flashes of memories in his mind. all those awkward and comfortable moments, stolen glances, blushing and stuttering, captured images, sleepless nights, tears shed. even the bitter memories inserted make this kiss much sweeter. it’s infinitely better than he could’ve ever imagined.
he removes his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, also the other that is anchored on the table, blindly searching until he successfully engulfs your delicate hands in his. he holds them, and the board carrying the cake, tightly.
when you smile against his lips, so does he. you give him a firm peck, so hot that he almost falters on his seat, before breaking away.
“let’s put this aside first.” you giggle, guiding your restless hands to set it down on the table. “you have chocolate all over your hand.”
jungkook can hear you, but he’s not listening. he immediately goes for your lips again, and ends up sorely disappointed when you dodge him.
“whoa, wait. you’ll smear chocolate on my face-”
“you said i don’t have to ask.” he argues.
you narrow your eyes at him.
he hurries with a solution. “i’ll keep my hands behind my back.” and true to his words, he acts as if his hands have been cuffed.
“that works,” you shrug.
he is to blame for his nasty torture when you drag yourself closer to him, draping your legs over his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck.
you’re practically sitting on his lap and he can’t touch you with his dirty hands. ridiculous.
there is the urge to complain, then lost and forgotten after you seal his lips with yours. he is the luckiest man on earth tonight.
—
“will you stay the night?”
jungkook’s cheeks are beginning to ache, but he can’t stop smiling for the life of him. how could he not? you’re lying on his bed, and this time you’re both under the covers. it can’t be more perfect than this, the way you’re mirroring each other. he’s admiring your face and you haven’t averted your eyes from his either.
at this moment, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.
“if i’m being honest, i’m still scared of the ghost.”
“is he bothering you again?” he quirks an eyebrow, prepared to brawl with a bothersome spirit. he is suddenly aware that the lamp is the only source of light in the apartment. “do we turn on another light?”
“no,“ you chuckle at his reaction. “but he appeared in my dream once after that.”
“what about me?”
“you?” you send him a puzzled look.
he grins toothily. “do i appear in your dreams?”
that earns him a sarcastic roll of the eyes.
“why is it suddenly about you?”
“i’m helping you get your mind off the ghost!”
“can we just… i don’t know…” you avoid his intense gaze, chewing on your bottom lip. “cuddle?”
this is real, right? he isn’t hallucinating?
he already made out with you until the two of you couldn’t breathe. surely, cuddling is nothing compared to that… but he has pined for you for months. going from zero to a hundred is giving him emotional motion sickness. like a rollercoaster, but arguably more dangerous. and he shamelessly lives for that.
“oh, so you got mad at me last week for hugging you but now you want to cuddle?” he mocks humorously.
“change is the only constant in life.” you say as a matter of fact.
and jungkook isn’t very fond of that knowledge, but if it led you to his arms tonight, then he can try to make peace with it.
he spreads his arms, and you push yourself close with an arm over his waist, until you’re properly hugging him and he has your body cocooned with his.
he breathes out a sigh. this is heaven.
“so? have you dreamt of me?”
you make a noise of protest, cheek squished against his chest.
“come on, humor me.” he coaxes you into revelation. “it’s my birthday.”
“…we went on a ferris wheel once.“
“really? were we on a date?”
“i don’t remember.”
“what were we doing?” he continues poking.
“i don’t remember.”
“that’s it?” he grumbles. “you must remember something else.”
you giggle. “it was a long time ago, jungkook.”
“and you didn’t dream of me again after that?”
“stop,” you draw back just enough to see his face. “we have more important things to discuss.”
jungkook gulps nervously.
more important things like what? the meaning of that kiss…? um, kisses? the label of your relationship? are you really bringing it up right away like this? he imagined he would be the one to do it.
“there’s one fish left without a name.”
oh… his face falls.
“have you thought of one?”
“i have, but…” you jut out your bottom lip. “don’t we decide together?”
beneath the stoic demeanor you parade around wearing, he realizes that you’re just like everybody else, craving to be held and to spend quality time with someone who makes you feel special.
he doesn’t hold back on kissing you.
“we will!” he pinches your cheek, which brings out your smile. “i’ll tell you what i think.”
“that goldfish actually reminds me of you.”
“really?”
you nod eagerly.
“how so?”
“the both of you,” you giggle. “always follow me around.”
his jaw falls slack, not expecting to be called out like that. you’re having fun with the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, huh?
“so you want to name it after me?”
“something like that, but let’s make your name sound cute.”
you hum as the gears in your brain turn. on the other hand, jungkook is not thinking at all, he’s memorizing your face. maybe it’s an artist’s sickness aggravated when faced with the apple of their eye.
“jung… kook…” you take a long pause, lips left in the shape ‘O’ due to the pronunciation of his name. “kook…?”
“you know, i do get called jungkookie sometimes.”
“jungkookie…?” you slowly repeat the nickname.
seconds later, your face lights up.
“then how about kookie? cookie but with-” you draw the letter into the thin air using your index finger. “a ‘k’?”
jungkook is relieved that you instantly put two and two together. he didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. honestly, rather than a cute vibe, he’s going for the manly vibe.
“it sounds so cute. what do you think?”
“i think so too!”
as long as it makes you look this happy, he’d accept any name that you come up with.
“okay, it’s official.” you return to cuddling up to him. “i can sleep peacefully from now on.”
was that bothering you? you truly do care for them. he thinks you might care more than he does.
“let’s sleep…”
before closing his eyes, he plants an affectionate kiss on top of your head. the truth is he doesn’t want to sleep. if it was up to him, this moment would stretch into forever. as you slip into unconsciousness, he tries his damn hardest to resist it. he yawns, wipes his sleepy tears dry on the pillowcase, caresses your hair and forces his hand to move again when it falls on the bed.
“jungkook?”
he hears your voice in its tiniest form yet.
you’re still awake?
he barely is anymore.
“mhmm?”
“i really am,” he feels a light tug at the back of his shirt, your weak hand forming a closed fist. “sorry.”
—
jungkook wakes up at 5am with his stomach grumbling for food. your positions shifted throughout the night and he lies there cuddling you from behind, spending five minutes or so dwelling on regrets. he pictures the cake in the fridge, still in pristine condition, and how different it could’ve been if he didn’t stop himself after three stolen strawberries.
after that, he thinks about breakfast. rolled omelette would be amazing right now. he just stocked up on side dishes too. only problem is he forgot to buy eggs.
who goes to the supermarket and somehow manages to miss the whole egg section?
jeon jungkook, apparently.
a challenge arises: getting out of bed without waking you up. he isn’t a novice, but he isn’t exactly an expert either. he figures it’s just based on luck, and he’s… very unlucky.
he manages to slip out the arm you’re using as a pillow, replacing it with a real one hoping that you wouldn’t notice the difference in your sleep. a second later and you’re already stretching out your limbs.
“where are you going?” you utter raspily, swollen eyes from sleep peering at him.
“out- to buy eggs for breakfast.” he replies in a low voice.
you start to harshly rub off the sleep from your eyes.
“i’ll go with you.”
“there’s no need.” he strokes your hair gently. “sleep more.”
you shake your head stubbornly. “i need to buy something too.”
you drag yourself off of the bed before he can stop you. from your toes down to the heel, you slightly stumble when your feet touch the ground.
“i’ll brush my teeth.”
—
once you and jungkook step out of the building, you both find that it’s still before sunrise, but the street lamps are already turned off. everything under the sky is washed with a shade of blue. it feels almost illegal to be here with no other souls walking the streets, but you can breathe a little easier, and you’re warm because jungkook is holding your hand inside the pocket of his jacket.
what was supposed to be a stolen glance turns into an enamored gaze.
“you look pretty.”
“so do you,” the two corners of your mouth lift into a quick, shy smile.
“yah, jungkook!”
that’s taehyung’s voice.
his best friend approaches from the opposite direction, a pomeranian on a leash waddling and wagging its tail beside him. despite the distance, jungkook can already see his smirk poking fun at him.
count on him to disrupt a perfectly romantic and peaceful moment.
as soon as they meet halfway, jungkook shows him a grimace.
“what are you doing here?”
“to return your camera,” he waves the silver film camera, its strap wrapped around his wrist. “i’m taking tannie on a walk so i decided i’d bring it over.”
“okay, give it and go on your way.”
jungkook snatches it from him, wearing the camera around his wrist as the rightful owner.
when taehyung finally sets his sight on you, jungkook’s fear of embarrassment instantly kicks in. if he says something stupid, he swears to god— he lets go of your hand in favor of putting his arm around your shoulder, gently tugging you closer to him.
“you must be ____!” taehyung snaps his fingers when he, at last, recalls your name, which jungkook knows he’s grown tired of hearing. “nice to meet you! i’m taehyung.”
“ah, yes…”
jungkook senses your awkwardness. he presses his lips into a thin line, sending his best friend a threatening glare that screams ‘i know i’m a hypocrite, but don’t embarrass me.’
“it’s nice to meet you too.” you offer him a polite bow.
“yeontan seems to like you a lot.” taehyung laughs, gesturing at his dog who is nuzzling its face against your shin.
jungkook also smiles in endearment. that’s another animal drawn to you for some unknown reason. he can’t say he’s surprised.
“does he bite?” you cautiously ask.
“no, he’s nice. you can pet him.”
you nod, bending down to gingerly scratch yeontan’s fluffy ears. “hello, yeontan.” you quietly greet him with a voice so sweet.
“honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?”
“must be when she rode the dreamboat before.”
“i don’t think that’s it though?” taehyung tilts his head, still racking his memories for your face. “i think i saw her more recently, but maybe not with pink hair.”
you stiffen beside jungkook, knees going weak out of the blue. you straighten up, but you keep your head slightly bowed down, hair falling over your face.
“that’s impossible. maybe it was someone who looks like her.”
“ah, maybe,”
taehyung rubs the back of his neck, giving in to the theory.
“alright then, tannie is getting hyper.” he snorts at his pet trying to run away but is held back by its leash. “see you around, ____! i’ll see you at work, bro!”
“sorry about that.” jungkook intertwines your fingers again. “let’s go.”
he moves forward, and you get left behind.
“____?”
his concern grows when he observes your despondent body language.
“are you okay?”
“huh? oh- i’m okay.”
you snap out of it, but as you walk to the convenience store together, jungkook gets the impression that something is weighing on your mind.
—
jungkook watches you move around the store through the viewfinder of his camera, zooming in on your face when you whip your head around. it fails to capture the countless packs of lozenges you’re hugging to your chest.
“miss ____, who are you buying so many candies for?”
you blink down at them before innocently staring back at the camera. “they’re for my co-workers. it’s flu season so many of them are getting sick.”
—
with the sun returning to reign over the vast sky, the shade of blue has been replaced by an orange hue. the two of you walk back to your apartment building in silence. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, if it’s his fault or not, but your mood changed after your encounter with taehyung.
you’ve decided you want some space and jungkook respects that. the entire time, he thinks about how his hand feels empty without yours. is he being paranoid? he feels like he’s already woken up from a dream too good to be true, crafted out of his greatest fantasies, and he’s going to be thrust into a nightmare— learning that none of it was real. this endless push and pull with you, he’s grown to be somewhat ill at ease in your presence.
he wants it to go away.
he moves closer, content with the mere brush of the back of your fingers against his, but that small pleasure is robbed from him when you pull your hand away.
“let’s stop here.”
the decisive tone of your voice instantly fills him with dread.
you turn to face him, and he searches your eyes for any trace of emotion. sadness, or fear, or even humor… but he gets nothing.
“let’s stop seeing and texting each other.”
and he’s scared most of all when you’re impossible to read. just when he thought he had managed to slither past your walls, he is met by larger and stronger ones with welded spikes.
“what are you talking about?”
“i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”
you said it like it’s nothing. like you haven’t consumed his every thought since he saw you crying and you broke his heart without him knowing your name. like you haven’t been breaking his heart over and over again and he still can’t bring himself to detach from you.
“what is this joke? it’s not really funny.”
but he laughs anyway, or else he’d start crying, and you’d want him less.
“just forget all about me.”
his muscles tense. even now, he doesn’t know if he’s angry, but he is lost and it hurts so much, and he doesn’t know how else to express it without appearing weak.
“you think that’s something i can just do overnight?”
“what makes it so hard?” you raise your voice. the venom stings without the bite. “you don’t even know me that well!”
“then what was last night even about?” he hisses, hands balling into fists. “did you do that just to fuck with my feelings? am i just a game to you? what the fuck is your problem, ____?”
“you told me to use you to make myself feel better!”
it completely catches him off guard when you stomp your feet and produce guttural screams— it borders on a childish tantrum— you damage your throat in doing so, voice coming out high-pitched and scratched up.
his jaw clenches, straining to hold back his tears. the sun has risen and you’ve come to your senses. he regrets opening his eyes and acknowledging the morning.
“it didn’t work— is that what you’re saying? is that why you’re throwing me away?”
he doesn’t get a verbal answer, but your glassy-eyed stare and labored breathing have answered enough.
“wow, that hurts…” he chuckles sarcastically. “yah, seriously- i have to give it to you. i’m shocked… you’re good. you’re a good actor.”
he uses his middle finger to wipe the corners of his eyes, acting as though they are tears of amusement.
“you know, out of everyone i liked… you have to be the most cruel.”
jungkook’s pride has never been this crushed. he feels utterly infuriated and humiliated. yet another exchange of ‘i should have listened’ and ‘i told you so’ between him and his best friend. he’s also sick and tired of his heart leading him to the opposite direction of the love he deserves.
“i hope you find some other lunatic who would let you use them too. have a good life.”
this time around, he walks away, and he would like to think that he did it on his own terms.
—
jungkook loses his appetite after that. he informs his manager that he won’t be able to go to work because he’s feeling under the weather, then he drags himself back to bed.
your scent has clung to the pillowcase, the sheets…
it’s unbearable.
despite his lack of energy, he forces himself to set up the extra bed on the floor. he expected himself to have difficulty falling asleep, but the amalgamation of physical and emotional exhaustion pulls him down under.
he wakes up again in the afternoon. he ignores the cake in the fridge, instead snacking on yogurt and crackers while watching a movie on his computer. he takes a long shower after and buries himself in assignments until dinner time rolls in.
by this time, he assumes taehyung has blabbed about what he saw this morning. his friends must think he’s out here relishing in the honeymoon phase. how he wishes it was true.
he has that whole carton of eggs but he doesn’t have it in him to cook anymore. maybe it’s best that he surrounds himself with people, disrupt his depressing thoughts with loud chatter, and so he makes plans to go to the street market.
“wait!”
he sprints to the elevator, managing to slip his arm between the doors before they close entirely.
under different circumstances, this would’ve been fate instead of bad luck.
—
you stand your ground as jungkook enters the elevator, not sparing him a glance. just like you wanted, he also treats you with indifference. it’s hard to breathe in an enclosed space with him now that he hates you.
two girls from the eleventh floor enter; they stand infront of you and jungkook.
“did you find the video?” the girl infront of you, with the blonde hair, asks impatiently.
“wait- i’m looking for it.” her friend, you assume, replies as she is focused on aggressively scrolling and tapping on her phone screen.
“having a sex scandal with your professor? wow, that’s really something. how does that even happen?”
your blood runs cold.
from that statement alone, you can make an educated guess on what exactly they are talking about, but your brain tries to reject the thought. there are many scandals going around these days. maybe they’re talking about somebody else. you hope they are. does that make you a bad person?
“that’s not confirmed, though. the guy’s face doesn’t show in the video… oh, i found it!”
she presents her phone screen to the blonde-haired girl, and you feel as though gallons of ice have been dumped over your head. through the gap between their arms, you get a good view of your face. of the video you were forced to watch so you could acknowledge your sin… the video that not only damaged your reputation but stripped you away of everything. your dignity, your dreams, your people, the essence of your being.
you don’t need to look to know that beside you, jungkook is also secretly watching.
you’re trapped.
“this was really popular at snu but it suddenly got spread outside. my cousin who studies there said the girl’s parents are like- super rich- and they tried to bribe the university, but she still got kicked out. i think her name is ____?”
you bow your head to hide your face, vision gradually going blurry. strangers drop your name so casually to tell the shortest life story known to man. they discard the majority of the parts, retain and distort what entertains them, and in the end, they decide who you are.
you knew it was going to happen eventually, but this isn’t how you wanted jungkook to learn.
you didn’t want to be here for it.
“wow, she’s going at it.”
a scandalized gasp.
“no wonder men are going crazy over this. even the quality is-”
“insane, right?!” the storyteller whisper-shouts.
“but… what if she doesn’t know she’s being recorded? getting kicked out sounds a bit unfair, no?”
“no, no- she even holds the camera when they switch positions. watch!”
you can’t. you can’t take it anymore. you turn away, squeezing your eyes shut in extreme anguish.
you don’t realize that you’re shaking until jungkook holds your hand tightly, it’s almost crushing.
“ah, what are you doing?! turn it off! turn it off! it’s too disgusting from this angle!”
you look at him in shock, for a split moment you forgot he was there. his features have softened; so does your heart.
although you can’t exactly figure out how he’s feeling, you’d take anything that isn’t disgust.
the elevator reaches the ground floor.
as the girls take their leave, you also attempt to step out— but jungkook doesn’t let you. he grips your hand tighter and he presses the button of your apartment floor.
“why did you- i need to go to work…” you meant to chastise him, but your voice comes out small.
“stay a little bit. it’s still early.” he speaks to you softly, wiping off the beads of cold sweat on your forehead.
when did that happen?
“no, i need to-”
you feel dizzy; the walls are closing in on you. the turning of your stomach is bordering on intolerable. you lurch, pushing him away as you clamp a hand over your mouth and gag uncontrollably. you’ve had to experience this humiliation in school hallways, public spaces… in front of your friends, your parents; in the dean’s office. this is the first time your body is having this type of reaction; you feel physically sick, like your body is shutting down.
he rubs your back as an effort to alleviate your ails. “are you okay?”
you could answer, but what’s the point? you’re breaking down in front of him again. you’re no longer the mystifying neighbor he obviously yet secretly cherishes. he has discovered the missing puzzle piece you could never bury even if you died trying.
“did you enjoy it?”
“what?”
you wish he would stop looking at you with those big, sparkly eyes. at this moment, they’re making you feel small.
“the video. was it fun watching it too?”
the silence is suffocating.
he utters your name. he doesn’t know what to say; you don’t know what you want to hear either.
“it doesn’t change the way i see you.”
“bullshit,” you spit out— a knee-jerk reaction.
“look, i-i don’t know what happened but this isn’t right. you don’t deserve this. you can sue ever- wait! ____!”
the elevator opens and he chases after you, effectively blocking your path.
he has officially wore you down.
“it’s not me,” you declare near to tears instead of pushing him away. “it’s not me, jungkook. i d-don’t know how they- they did it. i know it looks so real but it’s not me. i swear-”
and as an act of desperation, after months of having given up on proving it’s all some sort of well-orchestrated deception, your hands come up to the buttons of your blouse.
“it’s not my body.”
“no no no- you don’t have to do this! this isn’t right!” jungkook freaks out and binds your wrists with his hands, unwillingly using his strength on you when you fight back. he anxiously glances at the camera monitoring the hallway. “stop, stop-”
“i just need one person to believe me.”
“i believe you, okay?” he captures your wrists in one hand, the other tenderly caresses your cheek. “i believe you. i promise.”
he cradles your head on his shoulder, hugging you so tightly it almost feels like you’re one person.
“when the girl said you might not even know you were being recorded… the terrible thoughts i had- like what if he…”
it’s too much alone in his head. he can’t bring himself to say it into the universe.
“but you didn’t get hurt, right? nothing like that happened? it’s not even real.” he sniffles, holding you tighter as if that is still possible. “that’s a relief… i mean- this, this is bad, what happened to you is. but i was scared.”
you remain there, dumbstruck and motionless. the line between standing and letting jungkook carry your weight has blurred.
you wish he would never let you go.
—
jungkook brings you to his apartment, sits you down in the kitchen, and takes out his birthday cake from fridge. he conveniently finds two pairs of chopsticks in a plastic bag on the table and offers you one, which you accept without thinking. you think he understands that you don’t want to talk about it but you can’t be alone right now either.
chocolate is supposed to help raise one’s spirit, doesn’t it?
well, it tastes delicious, and jungkook is with you. you feel a little less shitty.
he can’t sit still, though.
he cracks open the eggs he bought this morning into a bowl and starts chopping up vegetables to be mixed into it. all the while you sit and watch in silence. no, in peace. the rhythmic tapping of the knife against the chopping board is like music to your ears. even the sound of the oil crackling as he pours the beaten eggs into the frying pan.
you abandon the endorphin-inducing treat on the table. you saunter over to jungkook in search of something else more associated with love, sneaking your arms around his torso. a tidal wave of relief washes over you. this feels more like resting, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, better than drugs. as it turns out, you’ve been homesick for a body you haven’t touched. a hug can’t fix your life, but it may convince you that it’s possible to survive an unfixable life.
however, the key difference between jungkook and nicotine is that you can’t simply have jungkook because you want to.
what he has unleashed upon you is greed.
“i’m sorry,” the more you apologize, the easier it becomes, but you’re also growing sick of it. “i didn’t mean what i said. i was scared of your reaction when you find out so i pushed you away… i keep taking you for granted. i’m sorry.”
“it’s okay, i understand.” he rubs your forearm comfortingly. “just don’t do it again… it really hurt.”
“i like you too.” you confess like you’re running out of time.
you no longer have room for apprehension. you can’t gamble with your chances once more when there’s not much left.
“i wasn’t playing with your feelings. up until earlier, i thought i’d never be able to let you know, so i’m doing it now. i like you.”
a chill runs along your spine. it feels immensely intimate— how jungkook slowly takes a hold of your hand and guides it to his soft lips, pressing a long kiss to your skin.
“i like you too, a lot.” his laughter makes his body vibrate, waking up the slumbering butterflies in your stomach. “incase i haven’t made it obvious enough.”
—
“will you stay?”
you nod your head as you joyfully munch on your fresh homemade meal. “they’re already forcing me to use my vacation days anyway.”
he makes a noise of surprise. “you’ve never missed work?”
you shake your head no.
“rude clients aside, i like what i do. it helps me keep my mind off…” you wave the radish-bearing chopsticks. “things.”
he only nods, ruffling your hair affectionately. “you should eat well, okay?”
“you too!”
you feed him a big bite of your omelette, and then rice, and then kimchi.
it results in stuffed cheeks and aggressive chewing, but you look especially happy watching him eat. jungkook assumes that it’s just how you express your affection, and it’s euphoria to be at the receiving end.
—
you found your way back to where you were last night— jungkook’s warm bed. comfy pajamas and tangled limbs. everything went to shit after you left, so if you were to get stuck here forever, he wouldn’t disapprove.
he listens to you talk as half of his mind is preoccupied by innocently kissing every inch of the exposed skin of your face and neck.
“i’m going to the salon tomorrow.”
he inwardly groans against your neck when your fingers card through his silky yet messy hair, twisting and tugging.
“what color should i color my hair? red? orange? brown?”
“red sounds really great?” he draws back in excitement. “but i’m going to miss your pink hair. how did you maintain it for so long?”
“i only chose it because it doesn’t look good on me.”
“that’s ridiculous!” he exclaims.
you snort. “i thought if it doesn’t fit me then it would seriously change the way i look.”
“then you were very wrong. it fits you so well.” he passionately insists that you see yourself from his point-of-view.
“you’re ridiculous.”
you don’t believe him, but he still earns himself a kiss on the lips.
“have you ever thought of getting a lip piercing?”
“why?” he fails to hide his smug grin. “would it look good on me?”
“mhmm, i imagine so.”
you lazily trace his lips with your thumb. it’s suddenly making him dizzy.
“should i get it then?”
“nope,” you reply with finality. “too many girls would fantasize about kissing you.”
he bursts out laughing. “isn’t that too much of a stretch?”
“i’m a girl! i’d know!”
“so you’re the jealous type, huh?” he cockily quirks an eyebrow.
“i’m not,” you scoff.
“possessive?”
“maybe,” you shrug.
“cool,” he chuckles. “you want to keep kissing?”
you don’t answer and instead you meet his lips halfway with a tug at the collar of his shirt. you’re an amazing kisser; his brain goes haywire once you tilt your head and you kiss him deeper, tongue sneaking in for a taste. he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else again.
as the tension escalates into something hotter, your wandering hand manages to slip under his shirt, teasing and caressing his skin. fuck, he feels like he’s running a fever. however, when your fingers begin tracing and teasing the waistband of his calvin klein boxers, much as it feels heavenly and stirs something feral deep within him, he has to pull away.
not too fast.
he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. he’s afraid you’re not thinking straight.
“are you free this weekend?” he asks as he catches his breath, tongue swiping over his swollen lips.
“saturday night,” you reply with a drunk smile.
“since you granted my birthday wish, shall we make your ferris wheel dream come true?”
your smile fades away a little. “where you work?”
he nods, but he senses your hesitation. “but we can go to a different one, if you’d like.”
as your silence stretches, he also begins to regret having asked you in the first place. after what happened only hours ago, you must not want to go out in public and risk reliving that experience.
“…doesn’t it bother you that your friends may have seen the video already?”
at that moment, taehyung’s voice rings in his ears.
‘honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?’
his heart breaks upon the sight of genuine fear swimming in your eyes. he dips his head to press a kiss on your forehead, and he hugs you tight. and tighter. he doesn’t pray much, or ask big questions, but he despises it when bad things happen to good people. he wants to protect you, but how?
“i’d tell them the truth. i’d fight for your case.”
“but what if they don’t believe you…?”
—
a deafening crash resonates in the break room as taehyung’s body slams against the lockers before collapsing on the floor.
“ah, seriously! i said it’s not her!”
“what the fuck, dude?!” taehyung yelps as he sits up, putting a hand over his assaulted cheek. he’s more offended than hurt if he’s being honest.
as it turns out, it does bother jungkook.
taehyung’s phone landed a few feet away from him. the video is still going, and unlike the people in the elevator, he didn’t have the courtesy to keep it muted. obscene moans and sounds of skin slapping repeatedly play from the speakers at a low volume.
“it’s so clear, look! how can it not be her?!”
“it’s edited! it’s ai, you fucking idiot!” jungkook scowls at him.
he picks up the phone, teeth gritted in anger as he exits the video and discovers that it’s posted at an adult website. the view count has reached five digits and the comment section is flooded. he knows this isn’t the only place it’s posted. hell, other people could have it downloaded. although it’s not your body, it’s still you being violated and lusted after. he feels sick to his stomach.
“you should’ve said that from the start!”
he looks away for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, hard, hoping that would erase the explicit images and thumbnails from his memory. after gathering himself together, his eyes zero in on the report button.
he clicks ‘submit’ before he crumbles, weakly sitting down on the chair.
taehyung rushes to his phone that was tossed carelessly on the table. “ah shit- the screen is cracked!”
if this is how he feels, then he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel.
he stares at the floor, eyes unfocused. the world goes on and his back remains hunched over as he struggles to make sense of what he should do.
—
when you were called over to the human resource department, you didn’t exactly prepare yourself to watch your alleged sex scandal on a 21.5-inch computer monitor. the light from the screen reflects on your skin. you have to harshly claw at the skin of your knee to stop it from anxiously bouncing; you force yourself not to also gag when the you on the screen chokes and gags.
“was this reported to you,” you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting your stare to the man in suit and tie. “or did you find it on your own?”
“miss ____,” he leans in on the table, clasping his hands together. the golden band around his finger shines under the dim lighting of his office. “do you even understand the kind of trouble you’re in?”
“am i being fired?”
“but you don’t have to be.” he bares his teeth as if he’s delivering good news. you long to destroy his face and his condescension with your bare hands. “i believe we can agree on an arrangement.”
“what do you mean…?” you ask carefully, grasping the tiny bit of hope that what you have in mind isn’t what he meant.
“i think you know what i mean. you’re smart.”
your heart drops to your stomach when he side-eyes the screen.
“do you expect me to beg for my job and do the same things i did in the video?”
“why?” his tone then becomes threatening. you begin to hear your heartbeat thumping loud in your chest. “you won’t do it?”
but if you allow yourself to be intimidated and treated less than a human being worthy of dignity and respect, then you may never be able to forgive yourself.
your sharp eyes and your cutting words make up for its trembles.
“you’re right, i’m smart. i know you don’t have enough grounds to fire me. you seriously think you can manipulate me this easy?” you contemptuously push over his name plate, the bronze metal tumbling and clashing with the wooden desk. “you’re not qualified for this job.”
your dismissal of his authority bruises his ego. he holds you in a hostile glare.
“if i were you, i would stop talking. right now.”
“or what?” you challenge him. “you’ll hit me…? what would your wife think when she hears about this conversation?”
his face is contorted with anger and frustration, but he is visibly holding himself back from doing something else that would damage his career.
“i plan on suing the people who are responsible for this. i’d appreciate it if-” you gesture at the monitor. “you can delete your copy too. i’ll clean my table and leave.”
“you have a real attitude problem, you know that? you need your eyes opened to the reality of life.” the alarms in your head starts blaring when he slowly gets up from his seat. “i think i know what i need to do to fix it.”
“don’t you dare touch me.” you grit your teeth, tears welling in your eyes as he circles his desk. “i will kill you.”
he squats on the floor beside you, wearing a mocking grin. you want to move away, but the chair is too small, and you’re determined to show him that you have no fear.
“you’ll kill me?”
he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back, and a scream is ripped out from your throat. the pain is mind-numbing; if he does it long enough, your guess is that you’d surely faint. he forces your head to the direction of the monitor.
“who you should be killing is the man who put you in this situation.”
you close your eyes. you try not to let him get under your skin, but the tears rolling down your cheeks are your self-made traitors.
you have. in your head. a million times. is it truly a man? is he even alone?
as you tiredly re-open your eyes, you unleash the pepper spray you’ve been holding under your thigh and begin spraying it all over his face. when he collapses on the floor, screaming and clawing at his own skin, your hand also falls limp over the armrest. you take a deep breath, blinking at the mess you made with heavy eyelids.
does it hurt that much or is he simply dramatic?
you’d stay and enjoy his demise, but you decide he’s not worth your time.
“____, come back here!”
“oh-” you freeze on your tracks.
you pull the lace of your company id over your head, hurling it at his face. he rolls over with an agonized groan.
“i quit!”
you unlock the door, dry your tears, and walk out of his office with your chin held high.
—
you stand at jungkook’s door, staring down at your shoes. you’ve been contemplating on whether you should knock or not. you want nothing more but to crawl into his arms, but a part of you is holding back. is it right to drag him into your world? you’d hate it if he becomes infected by your sadness. it broke you to pieces when he cried because he thought you were hurt. what would his reaction be if finds out what happened tonight?
“____!”
jungkook approaches with a plastic bag from a 24/7 restaurant nearby. judging by his tousled hair, he must’ve just woken up from a long nap. and you think to yourself—he’s so handsome—as he walks over to you and you scramble to collect yourself.
“have you been waiting long? sorry, i had to buy dinner.”
“i just got here.” you deny.
“is that so?” he stops infront of you, eyeing your outfit. “is everything alright? you’re home from work so early.”
“i went home.” you force a smile. “i’m not feeling so well.”
it takes everything in you not to cry when he starts stroking your hair with the gentlest hand.
“what’s wrong…?” he frowns. he worriedly presses the back of his hand on your forehead, then your neck. “you are a bit hot.”
“i think i just need some more sleep.” you dismiss the topic quickly, throwing your arms around his neck for the hug you’ve been yearning for since you walked out of that office.
his free arm wraps around waist, pulling you taut against him. he doesn’t ask you anything. like you, he closes his eyes, and he nuzzles his cheek against you, not taking any second for granted.
—
you spend the remaining days before saturday locked up in your apartment, withholding the fact that you quit your job from jungkook. with work gone and social media apps wiped out from your phone, there’s not much to do. just like always, you feed the fishes and converse throughout the day over the phone. they eat less and less as the weather gets colder. you bring up the growing size of the fishes and he agrees that they should be moved into a bigger tank soon. he sends you photos of him bored in class and you send him photos of you in bed. every second that passes by, you feel guilty for holding on to him until the very end.
you greet him with a radiant smile, opening the door just enough for him to see your face. you can tell that he styled his hair, sprayed on more perfume than usual. he looks absolutely dashing. it almost makes you mad.
“are you ready?”
you can feel the crushing weight of everything that hides behind the door. your clothes, your shoes, your self-care, your stacks of medical textbooks… your entire life packed in boxes and bags.
jungkook was right. out of everyone he liked, you must be the most cruel.
—
he doesn’t take you to his workplace, and instead brings you to their largest competitor. the amusement park is swarmed by locals and tourists alike, waiting for the firework show to commence. you hide your face with a thick scarf wrapped around your neck. you’ve been waiting, freezing, in line for over an hour, but you don’t mind it at all. it only means more time spent with jungkook.
you take turns in biting on the pretzel he bought to get rid of your boredom, happy and content in your shared bubble among the hundreds of voices within the vicinity conversing all at once. you become the other half of those lovey-dovey couples people cringe at in public. every now and then you and jungkook mimic a stranger’s voice, or the instrumental music from the nearby rides, and you laugh until your tummies ache. he hugs you to warm you up and you reward him with a kiss on the cheek.
“your hair looks even prettier in person.” jungkook compliments you with stars in his eyes.
“thank you! it turned out better than i expected. i’m really happy about it.” you gush, confidence renewed. you eat the last piece of the pretzel happily. “red or pink?”
“okay, red does suit you better,” he admits. “but i still think you were also beautiful in pink.”
“since you’re always saying that, i’m starting to believe it.”
“you should, because it’s true.”
“have i ever told you that you’re handsome?”
he shakes his head with a half-amused, half-sheepish smile.
“well, you’re very handsome,” you declare playfully, but you believe it a hundred percent.
“thank you,” he bursts into a fit of giggles, and it delivers you a special kind of joy— making him happy.
“lemonade?” he offers you the drink he’s holding.
you slot the straw between your lips, taking a few sips. your eyes widen in surprise, also delight. “it’s hot?”
“it’s good, right? i feel so warm.”
he sips on the drink himself. at the same moment, the line begins to move.
“oh! it’s our turn!”
he grabs a secure hold of your hand, not allowing a slither of chance of you slipping away from him. you give out your tickets, and the remains of them returned, one of them jungkook takes and the other, you slide into the pocket of your shoulder bag.
“oh, it’s too high-”
your nervous pondering is interrupted by a yelp, thanks to jungkook effortlessly lifting you into the moving cabin with his hands on your hips. with a boyish grin, he jumps in after you.
—
he curiously watches you set up your phone on the parallel side of your shared seat, you and him filmed by the front camera and displayed on the screen. he chooses not to say anything, but he is pleasantly surprised that you are the first one who initiated on recording this memory.
once you fix it into the perfect angle, you return and sit beside him with a hint of satisfaction painted on your expression. but as soon as the the cabin quakes mildly, it morphs into nervousness.
“it’s okay, it’s normal.” he strokes the back of your head, reassuring you. “are you afraid of heights?”
you scoot closer to him, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment when you innocently lay your hand just above his knee. “i try not to be.”
“i was going to suggest the rollercoaster next, but maybe not.”
once again, the cabin moves, causing a whimper to emit from your throat. your nails begin to dig into his thigh, their sharpness dulled by his denim pants.
“anything but that- i have bad memories with the rollercoaster.”
“maybe i should sit on the other side to balance ourselves bett-”
“stay!” you quickly pull him back down, resulting to another shake. “in my dream, we sit next to each other.”
“oh,” his lips shape into a smirk. “anything else i should know about?”
“you had your arm around me.” you bat your eyelashes.
he does as you request, hugging you to his side.
“like this?”
you shake your head with a sound of disagreement, moving his hand from your arm down to the curve of your waist.
“you suddenly remember everything.” he remarks with a teasing squeeze of your flesh.
you sheepishly smile, shrugging. “eh, i remember this much.”
he loves moments like this— when your innocence rises to the surface and allows him a glimpse of your purest parts. they completely contradict everything your brain leads you to think is for your protection. you don’t want to be alone, and you do want to be held.
amidst his bittersweet musing, the night sky begins to be lit up by a sequence of launched explosives, shooting off glowing embers that descend slowly through the air.
he jolts on his seat and clings to you as a result.
“ah, that scared me!” he whines in annoyance.
you spare his scaredy-cat moment a short giggle. you barely pay him any mind; you didn’t even look at him. jungkook decides to watch the fireworks from your wonder-filled eyes. the colors soar across your irises— he can’t really differentiate the silver and the gold; there’s also blue and green; a lot of red.
his view from here is one-of-a-kind. he temporarily mistakes you for a painting. brings out his phone. snaps photos of you like one instinctively does in an art gallery.
the mortification only sets in when your eyes meet the camera and upon realizing, you give him your dazzling smile.
“you should watch the fireworks too.” you scold him lightheartedly, redirecting his hands outside. “they’re amazing.”
and he obeys you.
for a short while.
you catch him longingly gazing at you sooner the second time around. he likes that he doesn’t need to look away anymore because his feelings are already out in the open, and most importantly, reciprocated. he catches your eyes flicker to his lips. he swears this is the most romantic scene of his life. will anything ever come close? you cup his cheek in your delicate hand, bringing your plush lips to his. he wonders how many times you also hesitated to kiss him before. how long would it take before he has kissed you more times than he didn’t?
—
jungkook is glued to his phone, walking at a slower pace behind while you search the spacious parking lot for your motorbike.
the wicked reality he stole you from momentarily waves at him as a reminder that ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. a notification from a fan that says they found a clip of your video on another social media platform and reported it there too. a notification containing the link. he clicks on the app and finds that his latest video has reached almost half a million views.
technology has gone too far. how is there no law for this yet??? someone's life is ruined
what is this. you've totally ruined the video for me
jungkook!! when are you going live again?
everyone stop spreading the video around!!!!!!!!!! report it if you see it!!!!
but how come you suddenly made a ten min vid talking against ai so passionately? do you know this girl personally?? haha
lol? he already talked about ai in a live before. his follower would know that he knows a lot about editing and technology too. hes using his knowledge for good. stop assuming
it was obvious from the start ㅠㅠ the expressions look a bit unnatural. this is unsettling.... i feel so bad for her
um .. am i the only one who doesn't know about this
you're better off not knowing 😭
it's gone viral recently
how? it's all over my feed
his temples throb with a threat of an incoming headache. he can only hope and pray that he didn’t do more harm than good… and by some miracle you don’t find out about this, at least not before he is prepared to see you mad at him again. sharply inhaling, he swipes out of the comment section and tucks his phone back into his small crossbody bag.
“wait for me!”
he jogs to catch up to you, hurling himself to your back. you are both nearly knocked over if not for him throwing his strong arms around you.
“you’re so hyper. are you a puppy?” you groan. “go put your helmet on.”
“this hurts my pride. i said i’m not wearing it again!”
he is, once again, left with no choice when you forcefully shove your only helmet over his head.
“calm down, nothing bad will happen anyway.”
“this feels so wrong.” he continues complaining. “everyone i know owns an extra, just so you know.”
“well, i never planned on riding with a passenger.” you pull down the visor, sealing the deal. “hold on tight, okay?”
—
how often do you see a man on the road sitting at the back of an expensive motorbike that his cool girlfriend drives? jungkook wishes someone could take a photo and send it to him as a memento because being that man is pretty darn fun. except for the part that you’re not wearing a helmet and he’s also freaking out in the back of his mind, especially when the vehicle tilts even at the slightest.
but yeah, fun.
until the rain starts to come down and he ends up numb from the freezing cold.
your driving speed decreases. you move farther into the center of the lane to avoid the slippery paint on asphalt.
“jungkook, remove my glasses.” you instruct him urgently.
“okay!” his arm freezes in the air. “wait, where do i put it?”
“fuck, anywhere. over my head!”
—
owing it to your driving experience and extreme carefulness of your passenger, you park at your designated parking space safely. by the time you do so, the rain has become a downpour.
“run!” you shout as you both begin to brave it.
for the record, jungkook tried.
his shoe slides against the wet and slippery ground and a startled scream leaves his mouth as it all happens too fast. he lands on his butt, but loses balance again and ends up completely lying down in the middle of the parking lot.
“jungkook!”
alongside the fierce raindrops, your frantic footsteps bringing you to jungkook contest in creating loud splashes. you get down on your knees, forcibly shaking his frame with yet another call of his name.
“are you okay? where are you hurt?!”
garnering no response, you resort to giving his face weak slaps.
“stand up. this isn’t funny.”
his ears catch you blowing out a sigh, layered underneath is the most adorable growl he has ever heard— reminds him of a tiger cub. there is the lightest trace of smile on his lips as you carry his head over to your lap with utmost gentleness.
“jungkook!”
you wipe his rain-soaked face with your rain-soaked hands as if it would do something. he dies of laughter inside.
“are you being serious right now?!”
he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the other, greeting you with the most gleeful giggle. he’s so stupidly happy it’s almost painful. chest-restricting. doesn’t help much when you hit his chest, rightfully so, and he laughs harder.
“ugh, you’re so annoying!”
his upper body tumbles over again to the wet ground when you return to your feet. the view from here is not that bad. he is losing half his mind from the cold and his eyes are blurry from the rain. it presents itself as the perfect opportunity to say something cheesy about going to heaven, but would an angel nudge him with their foot and say “stand up. we’re totally going to get sick now, you jerk!” before running away?
in jungkook’s defense, he checked the weather forecast this morning. it’s painfully clear to him now that they lied. the two of you are dripping all over the floor mat in front of the building’s entrance doors. there is no other choice but to wring your clothes here to minimize the trail of mess you will leave behind when you go up to your units.
you’re squeezing out the water from your hair. he is left with a white t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he does the same with his sweater.
the earthy and distinct smell of the rain clings to the air, and therefore, everything.
“jungkook,”
“yes?” he cranes his head to your direction and your eyes connect.
“don’t get sick.”
“i won’t! i’m healthy. i only get sick once a year.” he boasts with a grin.
given the length difference, jungkook’s method is messier than yours— he shakes the water out of his hair like a puppy.
“okay, rude-” you chide at him, flinching away from the shower.
“oh i’m sorry!”
didn’t think about that, he winces.
“aquarium after showering?”
—
“worms make me queasy.” you make a noise of disgust as you dispose of your plastic gloves.
“but clem loves them.”
“true,” you return beside jungkook, who is watching your five beloved swimmers with pure fascination. “but not as much as coral does.”
“sometimes i wonder if they’re getting tired of seeing our faces everyday.”
“i hope not,” you frown.
after all, they’ve taken over a considerable chunk of your daily life for the past half year. you worried more about their meals than your own. you hated it when clementine and dahlia would get scared and hide from you at the beginning. you worked hard to gain their trust. how long will it take for them to forget you? contrary to the three-second memory span myth, you read that they can keep memories for weeks, some claim months, at least five, or even years.
“yeah, probably not because they associate us with food.” he chuckles.
“that’s true.”
he straightens up and drops himself on the couch. while you’re alone, you take your time to prepare your heart.
you try your hardest to look at every little detail of each fish, anything you haven’t seen before. you always loved the way their tail and fins glide and flow as they swim, reminiscent of long hair blowing with the wind. when they play about the shipwreck, it feels you’re being healed. something broken can still be a source of joy.
“i had a wonderful time, by the way.” you turn to jungkook, making your way to where he is. “thank you for tonight.”
“me too. i was so happy.”
he squeezes you to his side, dipping to press a kiss to your temple. you never understood people who preferred forehead kisses until you met jungkook. a kiss on the lips meant being wanted, and maybe that was everything to you.
“but i’m buying the extra helmet myself tomorrow.”
“you don’t have to do that!”
while he laughs, you force a smile.
there’s no point. there will be no next time.
“no but thank you for everything, really… my life has been a living nightmare but- but i felt like a person again when i was with you.”
you take a pause, willing yourself not to cry. you need to tell him everything you haven’t said so you can live with less regrets.
“you’re such a kind person. i’m sorry that i always lashed out on you too. just because i was hurting doesn’t make it right to hurt you.”
“why are you talking like that?” he questions you suspiciously. he masks his nervousness with a tone of humor. “it sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”
because you are…
you’ve never been good at goodbyes. the original plan was to leave in the middle of the night without letting him know, leaving a note was an option. either way you know that you will hurt him, and as an admitted coward, you didn’t want to witness that.
but in the future, when you reminisce about him, you don’t want to be overcome with guilt. and when he reminisces about you, you don’t want memories of you to be tainted with bitter resentment. you hope that when either one of you sheds tears, the pain of loss eventually becomes gratitude for what you had momentarily.
and so, you take a deep breath.
“i need to tell you something.”
he stares back into your eyes without saying anything. in the duration of that silence, jungkook is able to interpret and predict where your shared story is heading.
“you’re leaving…”
the end.
you never considered that hearing him say it would hurt much more than telling him yourself.
“when?”
“my flight is in six hours. i’m so sorry.”
you nearly break down into the tears, but you harshly chew on your bottom lip. you can’t cry, not in front of him. you don’t have the right.
“my parents, they finally forgave me… i can continue studying with their help. but no one wants to accept me here anymore, i tried, everywhere… so i’m going back with them to milan.”
“where they work…” he says meekly. he remembers you mentioning it in passing.
“can’t you postpone?” he tries to spark up even a smallest crumb of hope. he places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly. “even just for a day?”
you shake your head, unable to look him in the eyes, but you flip your hand over so you can hold his. and you do. tightly. and when it doesn’t feel enough, you use both hands and you clasp him in between.
the silence in between is suffocating.
“when will you come back?”
“i don’t know.”
“i can wait-”
“no, you can’t.” you interrupt, looking at him decisively. “you shouldn’t.”
with hardened features, he challenges your stare. you’re not scared or intimidated. he’s not angry. he’s just…
“that’s not for you to decide.”
fighting for you.
you’d be a hypocrite if you said that you wished he wouldn’t.
“jungkook, please, don’t.”
you throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so he won’t be able to see your face and decipher your thoughts. deep inside, with logic thrown outside the window, where all you can see and feel and touch is him, you wish that he would beg and convince you to stay.
“you’d only waste your time doing that. you’ll meet someone else…”
those words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. possessive, he jokingly described you once.
“don’t say that.” he interjects.
“you deserve to be happy, jungkook. there is so much more to life.”
“i knew- i-i had a feeling you would leave soon. i just didn’t know when.”
a tear drips from your eyelash; you hug him tighter and wipe it off on his shoulder.
“i wish i could’ve done more.” he utters regretfully. “to help you. and comfort you. you endured everything on your own…”
“you believed me and you stayed with me. you did more than everybody else.”
taking away the science of it, it’s common knowledge that a hug has wondrous healing effects. it’s one of those things that we naturally learn through experience, feeling. the hormone and neurotransmitter oxytocin can affect how we feel and respond to pain. studies say that it kicks in for hugs that last at least six to twenty seconds.
“will you be okay there?” he whispers. he’s gently stroking the expanse of your back and it feels like getting tucked into bed.
by now, you’ve been hugging jungkook for over twenty seconds, and you realize that the time is irrelevant. perhaps what they are referring to are the hugs you wouldn’t mind staying in forever.
“i’m scared,” you confess. “but i’ll be okay.”
a glimpse at the aquarium and enters a silly, gutwrenching thought.
“you know… maybe in another life,” you peek fondly into a future that may very well never exist. “we’re old and married, and we have a big pond instead of an aquarium.”
jungkook draws back and stares you down with his tearful eyes.
you clear your throat, face going warm with regret. “sorry-”
“you’re impossible-” he mutters before leaning in to kiss you.
you’re frozen at first, mind going blank, until he’s kissing you deeper, gripping your waist tighter, with intense emotions you’ve never felt him express before, and you are forced to remember that this kiss is a goodbye.
your hands around his neck fall over his shoulders, and you grant him the power to let you fall into the abyss where nothing else exists but the two of you.
you stop worrying about the time ticking.
you do not think about pulling away.
he is the one who breaks the kiss and your heart is broken.
his gaze is heaving with longing as does his aching chest. “why can’t it be in this life?”
you think this is when the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you. jungkook is once in a lifetime. he is the person you will dedicate a memoir to when you reach the point in life where the only thing left to do is to look back. revealing the closet full of skeletons of who you were and who you will never become. he will be the subject of your what if’s, the other main character of the alternate version of your life story. the cynics will clamor, your time together was too short for it to have meant something, ignorant of the most lamentable grief— and you will envy them for it.
the corners of your mouth are lifted into a wistful smile. “fate made us meet at the wrong time, when i’m the wrong person for us.”
—
when you arrive at your apartment, you are deprived of the privacy to break down. your brother and your family driver, mister lee, have only begun hauling your bags and boxes. you try to ignore their presence, head straight to the bathroom, but as always, your brother doesn’t allow you peace.
“are you seriously bringing your motorbike too?”
you take a deep breath to compose yourself, but you still end up gritting your teeth. “it’s mine.”
“it’s too expensive to have it shipped-”
“shut up, you’re not the one paying for it.”
you turn on your heel, but you become rooted into place when you hear jungkook’s name.
“that boy you were with- jungkook, is it?”
you face with him a look of suspicion, eyebrows furrowing. “why do you care?”
he casually leans against the kitchen cabinet, hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets. “he must genuinely like you a lot to make that video. the tide has turned because of him.”
“wh-what are you saying?” you sputter. “what video?”
he narrows his eyes at you. “you don’t know what i’m talking about?”
“are you fucking with me again?”
“yeah- okay, nevermind.” he dismisses the topic, straightening up to pick up one of the boxes that will be carried to his car.
“moon!” you irritatedly shout his name, throwing the first thing that your hand touches. the comb hits his back before falling on the floor with a smack. “what is it?!”
“god, ___! it’s nothing! forget about it!” he barks, going straight for the front door with two boxes stacked in his arms. “go and make sure you didn’t forget to pack anything. i don’t need you nagging me when a package gets lost on its way to milan.”
you’re obviously having a hard time. can’t he go a little gentler on you?
“and cover your face.”
“does it matter? i’m already leav-”
“dad asked for it— not me. just do it, ____.”
you weakly slump back against the wall. you have no fight left in you today. you’d like to commend yourself for making it this far, surviving the worst of the worst and having the courage to come out of the tunnel, but you fail to make the distinction between being strong and becoming jaded.
“ma’am-” mister lee offers you a handkerchief. “i found it in one of the drawers. did you mean to leave it behind?”
you shake your head, and with a cold, shaky hand, you take it from his open palm.
once the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, there is no more stopping them.
as a sign of respect to you, he also leaves the room.
you choke back a sob, clutching to your chest— the handkerchief you were never sure if you were given or you stole.
—
jungkook’s tears glimmer from the lighter’s dancing flame. after several clicks, he manages to light up the cigarette. he isn’t innocent–after all he’s already an adult—but it’s a habit he makes an effort to avoid. surely, he can give himself a pass today, though. he’s heartbroken, and he feels pathetic enough hanging out in the alleyway you frequented.
he blankly stares at the lighter you believe you lost due to your carelessness. thinking back to your words from earlier, he’s furious at how calm you appeared. it was an easy decision— leaving him behind.
the rain has stopped, but raindrops collected by the roof still trickle to the ground and clang against metal pipes.
with trembling lips, he exhales the smoke— a sob threatens to be ripped from his throat and he roughly covers his mouth to stop it.
what could possibly be the lesson he’s supposed to learn from this pain?
he didn’t know where else to go. at his apartment, he’d feel you leave. at the lobby, he’d see you leave. he’d go far, but he doesn’t want to be too far. until the very end, he is at your disposal.
you could’ve been the one. no, he desperately wanted you to be the one. if you had stayed, he would’ve loved you as often as he breathed— but your paths intertwined only to be unraveled.
some sadistic tool, fate is. what was the point of finding you again?
a passerby’s fleeting shadow blocks all sources of light casted over jungkook’s secret place.
you wear your only carry-on, a duffle bag, around your body.
you cross the street with unhurried steps.
as you climb into your getaway car, jungkook flicks off the ash from the cigarette held between his fore and middle fingers.
the tires roll over the wet asphalt, leaving behind a hissing echo. your brother’s car follows suit.
thirty-five, thirty-six… jungkook anxiously counts the vehicles he hears driving away.
im deadass gonna throw up at work ohhhhh my stummy hurts. ANGST YOU ARE EVIL!!!!!!!!! such sweet lovely writing i rly rly love how u encapture jungkooks personality in this, takes no bs but will forgive❤️
summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.
non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 14.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k
warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho
-> part two (wc: 15.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)
note: my not so little summer project <3 i thought i wouldn’t have the opportunity to dedicate this much time to writing again in the near future so here we are! finishing this story alone felt fulfilling but even more so that i get to share it with you. pls treat it with gentle care 🫂 reblogs and feedback r very much appreciated i love talking to you guys🥺 special thanks to my lovely rio for proofreading and being the sweetest friend :") ilyily
࿐ for those who yearn <3
—
“wait! wait for me! don’t close it yet!”
jungkook’s whole life has led up to this moment.
from running away from his neighbor’s large snobby dogs during childhood— to participating in run for charity marathons mostly, only mostly, to appease his ex-girlfriend by being interested in her interests.
he successfully escaped from his uneventful class today by faking dizziness. half an hour later, he is racing towards one of the few places in this city where he feels something.
his best friend’s face is still blurry given the distance, but jungkook doesn’t need to clearly see taehyung’s face to know that he is looking at him unimpressed.
“why are you here? do you even have a ticket?!” taehyung interrogates him once he reaches the gate.
“do i have a ticket? really?” jungkook smirks, tossing his backpack to the ground.
he crosses over to the other side, and with ease, sneaks his hand in between the bars to push the lock into place.
“what do you think i work here for?”
taehyung sighs and mumbles to himself. “fine, my bad. thought we worked to pay for our bills.”
he picks up the backpack and swings it over his shoulder, heading to the control booth. on the other hand, jungkook climbs on the ship the amusement park owner lovingly named the dreamboat. he places his grip on one of the many vines curiously large butterflies are attached to, fully ignoring the existence of the steps. he hoists himself up onto the wooden floor with ease.
unhappy faces with blank stares.
he smiles at them cheerfully.
“i apologize for the hold-up. i’m your captain!”
“jungkook! sit!”
“wouldn’t he be the captain?” a high school boy at the very front quips, eyes pointing downwards at taehyung.
“eh, more like the wind behind our sails.” he ruffles the boy’s head in passing as he trudges over to his desired seat.
“what?”
his spot, a more suitable better term. the farthest row which most first timers do not dare to sit at; the part of the ship closest to the sky when it swings back and forth, higher and higher, until it feels like he’s going to fall off— but he doesn’t. for short bursts of moments, he’s flying.
the passengers are erupting in ear-splitting screams, curses, and laughter. the wide smile plastered on his face could probably be described as sadistic as he observes their reactions. most would find this ride as a nauseating, life-threatening ordeal and its name ridiculously ironic. however, to jungkook, this is what it means to be alive.
he imagined he would be alone here again today.
but as he is brought higher into the air, he discovers one person strapped to the last row of the other side of the ship.
the earth begins to move in slow motion.
they have their face buried in their palms, body shaking with what he can only guess is intense sobbing.
gone is the smile on his face.
jungkook has witnessed a few criers, sure, but not to this degree. a wave of sadness washes over him. he feels guilty and he doesn’t know why. why the hell would he be? he doesn’t even know who you are.
are you that scared? if you’re scared, why would you volunteer to go here alone? if not, then why is your heart breaking?
for a few seconds, the noises cease and his focus on you becomes amplified.
and why is his breaking too?
your sobs and gasps for air are once more drowned out by the fear and adrenaline of the majority. nevertheless, the ache they caused in his chest stays.
what could it be? the reason you’re crying like this at an amusement park? wouldn’t it be because you got stood up by your date?
lost in thought, he’s been unblinking. the wind blows as the speed of the boat picks up and he groans when dirt gets into his eye. he harshly rubs and rubs and he stops to check if it’s gone… he knows it’s gone because now he can see clearly— one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes upon.
the wind blows into your hair and it finally grants him a good view of your face. red, swollen eyes and mascara running. you wipe your tears away, distant eyes falling on your lap, and you take a sharp inhale. you’re a tragedy and so gorgeous still that the aching of his heart doubles due to its intensified pounding.
there’s no way… he debunks his theory. there’s no way a man could ever waste the opportunity of going on a date with you. only a fool.
slow motion comes to a full stop.
shit, shit, shit.
why can’t he look away?
you’ve made eye-contact and you’re not breaking it.
he nervously swallows the lump in his throat.
“huh?”
the ringing of the bell snaps him out of… whatever that experience was. he looks around and it is revealed to him that the ship has returned to its neutral position. passengers are already hopping off, including you.
wait, including you…
when did you get a cap?!
“fuck!” he curses, kicking his feet in annoyance.
he then proceeds to break the promise he swore to himself: never run after a girl again.
“yah, jungkook! where are you going?! you need to clock in!”
taehyung releases yet another sigh as he loses his best friend among the crowd. nearly at the same time, he hears a thud that originates from the control booth. he blankly stares at the backpack that mysteriously fell off the chair.
“does he have snacks in here at least?”
—
blue tube top and black baseball cap worn backwards. blue top and black cap. blue top and black cap. jungkook chants in his head like a maniac as he navigates the grounds, trying his best not to lose sight of your back. sweat has started to form as beads on his forehead. he squeezes one eye shut, wary of the sting, before wiping them away with the back of his hand.
he ran with all his might, but now that you’re almost within reach, he’s suddenly nervous.
“miss- miss! you dropped this!”
you turn around abruptly so his fingers end up only grazing your arm. the first thing he notices is your knitted eyebrows. he doesn’t know whether it mostly indicates annoyance or confusion.
you merely glance at the handkerchief on his open palm. “it’s not mine.”
you walk away from him and you are a magnet he is curiously drawn to.
he stands in front of you, sweaty and stuttering like a student introducing himself to a class for the very first time.
“but are you okay? i-i couldn’t help but to notice that you were cry- uh, uhm… you-you seem to have troubles.”
he clears his throat, turning his cheek for a second as to avoid melting under your intense gaze. he marvels at your beauty but he can’t pull himself together to admire it from a close distance.
“sorry, i don’t mean to pry. i’m just concerned.”
seconds pass and he doesn’t receive any sort of answer. no affirmative nod; not even a roll of the eyes. you stare at his face blankly as your feet become rooted into the ground. strands of your hair dance with gusts of the wind. it could be a haunting sight. your glossy eyes are reminiscent of deep, turbulent waters. there was a twinge of doubt on the accuracy of his words before, however, it now seems to ring true.
could it really be because of a boy?
a bicycle enters his line of vision.
a little too close not to cause an accident.
“move!” he yells out the warning, but he still takes matters into his own hands by pushing you over to the side and using his own body as a shield.
the bicycle speeds past and the rider screams something unintelligible.
jungkook’s nostrils flare. “kid, that’s not allowed in here! where did you come from?!”
the security guard running after the rule-breaker moves past him, but not before hitting his back with the baton.
“jungkook! why didn’t you stop him?!”
“yah! what was that for?!”
he scoffs, glaring towards the direction of the intruder and his co-staff, who has an entirely different job from him. why didn’t he stop him?!
while he was distracted by the commotion, he was also unaware that you managed to swipe the handkerchief loosely hanging from his grip around your arm.
his angry expression softens.
you wipe away your tears that are freely flowing against your will. earlier, you were sobbing. right now, your face is devoid of any expression. he can’t decide which is more heartbreaking.
“are you okay?” he carries on to ask again despite the both of you knowing the answer, but he just doesn’t know what else to do.
“i’m okay,” you say. “thanks for finding my handkerchief… and for saving me from the- the, yeah…”
you’re about to walk out of his life until his mouth blurts out- “wait! take this!”
he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. you blink at the small packet of sour gummies on his open palm and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole.
even he thinks this is ridiculous. he had a handkerchief in the left pocket of his jacket and now it’s yours. he had gummy worms in the right and for some reason he also wants you to have it.
“why?”
he has the same question.
“just because…”
no, that won’t do it.
“maybe it could make you feel better.”
oh my god.
“if you decide to ride the spinning top… it helps when you’re nauseated.”
still with the unreadable expression, you probe no further and accept his edible remedy.
“thank you.” you politely bow before taking your leave.
he doesn’t run after you this time. after all, his pockets are empty.
meeting you— this is probably the first and last time.
he exhales through his mouth. disappointed. he turns around and tries to look for you again.
blue top and black cap…
there you are.
leaving-
wait.
the spark of hope quickly fizzles out. you pull your hand out of your pocket, tossing something into one of the trash bins. he’s too far away to identify the item, but it couldn’t be… right?
he huffs in sheer disbelief.
“huh, she’s pretty and rude.”
—
if he’s being honest, jungkook doesn’t like this job much. graphic design is there, and it’s been a pretty sweet gig especially when he’s desperate for extra cash. anyway, taehyung got this job first, which took away time from their regular hangouts, so he would often visit his best friend during his free periods at the university. long story short, one of the managers scolded them both for playing around throughout taehyung’s shift, and as a punishment, she employed jungkook.
she is the reason why he is spending his sunday morning putting on strangers’ seatbelts and lap bars so they won’t fall off the rollercoaster and die. he was trained to double-check everything, but he is a bit more paranoid about lawsuits than the management, so despite the extra waiting time some passengers aren’t happy about, he makes that triple.
as fast as he can, while maintaining meticulousness, he does his final round of checking. so far, everyone is safely strapped to their seats. until he reaches the last row and finds the only person there with their lap bar unlocked. how did he miss that?
“ma’am, your lap bar isn’t secured. do you mind if i-”
the woman shakes her head without a word. as he gets to work, his eyes can’t help but to stray. most of her face is hidden by a face mask and sunglasses. it’s kind of funny because it’s actually been a gloomy day.
“ah, there you go. safe and sound!”
“thanks,”
he flashes her a bright smile. the last and apparently most important employee rule.
“you’re welcome!”
—
“why aren’t you eating?” taehyung asks with a mouthful of corndog.
jungkook lifts his head up from the table, sends him a glare, then drops it again. he didn’t get much sleep last night studying for their upcoming tests. he’d much rather spend his whole lunch break with his eyes closed. he’d go as far as saying that moving his jaw to chew food sounds like exerting too much energy and he couldn’t be bothered.
“change shifts with me. i fucking hate sundays.”
“depends…” taehyung pretends to be in deep thought. “will you buy me a meal everyday until our shifts rotate again?”
“do you want to die?”
“no, but it looks like you will before me.”
jungkook yawns, sleepy tears flowing down his temple. “you might be right…”
“were you up all night thinking of that girl?”
“huh? no.”
“you’re lying.”
“shut up,” he groans, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position.
so a beautiful stranger has been plaguing his mind. big deal! happens to the best of us.
taehyung cackles at his demise, thoroughly amused. “why? didn’t she throw away your gift?”
“it wasn’t a gift.” he argues. “and i know, she’s exactly my type.”
“bro, you’re fucking hopeless.”
“i know that too,” he calmly replies. “i kind of miss her.”
“at least it’s not your ex anymore, i guess.” taehyung mutters before obnoxiously sipping on his strawberry lemonade. “want to sneak into the security camera room? i’m curious. i want to see her.”
“can’t you just let me sleep?!”
“wow, you’re so grumpy today.”
took him long enough to deduce.
“then should we go after your nap?”
“i need to work!” jungkook snaps. he straightens his back, rubbing his face in frustration. “go- go do whatever you want!”
taehyung’s chewing slows down, appearing almost scared at his best friend’s outburst, but everything is a game with the two of them. “but i don’t know what she looks like.”
jungkook sighs, squeezing his eyes shut.
“okay, fine!”
in a state of exaggerated panic, taehyung gathers his things in one clean sweep, cradling them in his arms.
“i’m leaving!” he dashes out of the break room as if he’s running for his life.
jungkook huffs out a laugh at the comedic scene. as soon as his smile drops, so does his head.
—
it’s past midnight, which means it’s already friday. jungkook has been glued to the computer for the past three hours, working on a brochure he was commissioned to make. this task would go along smoothly if only his client didn’t have such a long list of demands, but alas, he is desperate for a good review after his past client’s four paragraph-long criticism. a boomer’s opinions hardly matter to him, but he knows how a single bad review alone can negatively affect reputation.
one thing’s for sure, everyone’s making it hard for him to fucking quit energy drinks.
he tosses the empty can into the trash bin beside his desk. away with his anti-radiation glasses, too. it lands in an awkward position over his keyboard. he couldn’t care less. everything hurts.
he keeps his eyes closed as he stretches his fingers, neck, and back with strained moans and grunts. the sweet relief causes him to slump lazily on his chair. at that moment, an internal battle starts. should he do the responsible thing and continue working? or should he just say fuck it and go to bed?
“no but seriously! why would she throw them away?!”
completely unrelated.
a thousand miles away from the topic at hand.
“jungkook!” taehyung growls from the bed, furiously pressing at the buttons of the controller. “it’s been two weeks! when are you going to move on?”
jungkook spins the chair to face him with a deadpan expression. the ps5 hogger is too focused on the television screen to even notice.
“you wouldn’t expect it but those aren’t cheap.”
“then maybe you shouldn’t have given it away to a stranger.” taehyung shrugs. “but that’s just me.”
“that was out of my control.” jungkook defends. “you should’ve seen her.”
“well, you wouldn’t let me.” taehyung mumbles, but he obviously wanted him to hear. “no thanks. crying at the amusement park? she’s got to have some real issues.”
“so what? we all got issues.”
“not me,” he sends jungkook a smirk. “if i don’t acknowledge them, they’re not there.”
“and that, my friend…” jungkook has decided to retire from his work area tonight. he pats taehyung’s shoulder as a display of faux sympathy. “is your biggest issue.”
wearing a childish grin, he grabs the other controller from the floor.
“now, shall we rank up?”
—
it’s been a few days since summer vacation started. he normally comes home to busan during the school breaks for a temporary taste of childhood bliss. he spends the entire day watching television, eating home-cooked meals, and not thinking about requirements at all.
too bad his vacation is suspended due to his adult responsibilities.
at least that’s the excuse he used.
his family has been staying with relatives for the past month because their home is currently under renovation. and well, jungkook’s dorm is suffocating enough on his own. staying under one roof with nine other people? hard. pass.
he may or may not be regretting that decision now, however. all of a sudden, coming home from work with a bag full of ramyeon and beer feels too depressing. even more so that he has no one to share them with. all of his friends have gone home. taehyung, too. he found someone who could temporarily fill in his place and did not think twice about leaving jungkook behind. he can’t blame him.
jungkook enters the apartment building. as always, quiet and dim. he gets that the owner is trying to save money, but isn’t it a bit too early to start turning off the lights? he rolls his eyes despite the lack of a witness.
they are very lucky that he has grown somewhat fond of this place.
jungkook allows himself to be roped in by the only source of warm light in the lobby. he finds himself incredibly silly for being entertained by goldfishes swimming around in an aquarium, but after a hectic day, this is where his brain cools down.
“hello everyone,” he coos at them.
do fishes even react to baby talk? he wouldn’t know. the only pet that lasted him years and is still alive is their family dog, gureum.
“how was your day? i hope it was better than mine.”
—
on the other side of the aquarium stands you, watching a boy talk to the fishes while he is blissfully unaware of your presence. an endeared smile graces your face unbeknownst to you.
eventually, there arrives a moment when most of the fishes favor a certain side and they clear out before his eyes.
that is when he finally notices you.
your heart begins to race, but he appears to be more shocked than you are. you stand up straight nearly at the same time.
despite the dark, they’re impossible to miss. his breathtaking eyes— which were filled with pure wonder and adoration only seconds ago— growing in size as soon as they saw yours.
“i know you…”
a bucket of ice cold water is dumped over your head.
“the girl who cried at the dreamboat!”
and while you do not appreciate the rather ungentlemanly pointing of finger, you’re glad to be able to breathe out a sigh of relief.
well, and there’s also the crippling shame.
you didn’t want your first impression on anyone to be the most pitiful version of yourself.
it’s been over a month for fuck’s sake. how does he remember your face so well?
“wow,” he gapes. “you changed your hair.”
you touch your hair, feeling a little conscious.
is that a good thing or a bad thing?
it’s your first time changing your hair color; plus, the last time you had bangs was in middle school. it’s been weeks since you had the big transformation, but you’re not quite sure how you feel about it yet.
“yeah, light pink…”
“it suits you well.”
“thanks,” is all you manage to respond with.
a gust of awkward silence passes by. there’s the instinct to run away— knocking at your brain, pulling at your limbs. but you can’t think of an excuse. your feet won’t move… eventually you stop minding that. the goldfishes are too beautiful to look away from. they work as the perfect distraction from the other soul standing across.
“so, um- i’ve never seen you around here.”
“i moved in today.”
“oh, i see… that makes sense.”
you hum to fill the quietness that follows, thinking of what else you could say, but he beats you to it.
“i live at the 13th floor.“
what did he say? do you live on the same floor? that’s impossible.
“how about you?”
“hm, 10!”
you blurt out the first number that pops into your mind. you quickly pretend like you’re not freaking out inside by shifting the topic.
“do they-” you gesture to the aquarium. “do they have names?”
“names?”
the random question seems to catch him off guard.
“none that i’m aware of.” he shakes his head. “i don’t think so- no.”
“oh…” your shoulders sag in disappointment. “that’s sad.”
but then again, you should’ve lowered your expectations and reminded yourself where you are. they were not bought as pets. they were bought for display.
—
the last time jungkook saw you was over a month ago. maybe your face is a tad different because you’re not crying. the new color of your hair compliments you in a way unlike before’s yet just as beautiful. the bangs make much of the difference too. he doesn’t know how old you are, but you look younger somehow. from his point-of-view, he could say that much has changed. but not the melancholia.
he watches you gaze into the aquarium in fascination; the lights reflect on your eyes as little twinkling stars. you’re not crying, but why can he still feel your sadness?
he once told taehyung that if you meet again, he’d give you hell for throwing his sour gummies away.
funny enough, that plan went out the window the second he laid his eyes on you again.
“do you want to feed them?” he offers.
“i already did.”
“you did?”
“i did,” you look up at him innocently, nodding. “i asked the guard.”
“aish, he didn’t tell me.” he throws his arms up with a groan. “i almost overfed them.”
you perk up with interest. “do you always feed them?”
“when i come home from work.”
“that’s nice…”
the soft smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat, but he doesn’t know it yet.
“sorry, um-” you begin smoothing out your clothes, also tucking your hair behind your ears. “i need to get to work. it was nice meeting you.”
“work?” he exclaims. “at this time?”
“graveyard shift,” you simply answer.
pictures of the dark alleyways immediately flash in his mind.
“but it’s dangerous to be roaming around here at this time.”
his radar doesn’t detect crimes being reported around the neighborhood, but with the majority of the building’s occupants being young adults, the streets are often littered with drunkards who have many things to be angry about.
“oh, i don’t walk. i’ve got a bike.”
he hasn’t known you long, but this is the most enthusiastic he has seen you. your face lit up as soon as you mentioned your mode of transportation.
however, he is a tiny bit confused.
it shows on his face, apparently.
“the motor kind,” you clarify.
“ah, the motor kind-” he claps once as soon as the realization dawns on him. he chuckles to himself. “of course!”
it was important for you to clarify, jungkook concludes from your tone. the fact that you own a bike is sexy, but you look adorable right now and it is so amusing to him.
“anyway, i need to go. it was nice to meet you!”
your heels click against the floor as you head towards the same door he walked in from.
“see you around!” he yells, still wearing a wide grin.
he remains standing there even though you’re already gone from sight.
hit with a useless yet concerning epiphany, he blinks.
“she rides the motorbike wearing heels?”
—
jungkook’s misery has been pushed to the back of his mind, replaced by an overwhelming giddiness that causes him to drop everything on the floor and jump on his bed. he buries his head into the pillow, but it does nothing to erase the happy grin that’s threatening to make his cheeks sore.
what a small world, huh?
what is this if not fate?
he flips over and stares at the ceiling as if it’s the starry night sky.
this might just become the best summer of his life.
—
jungkook comes out fresh from the shower clad only in a pair of black boxer shorts. he hangs the towel he was drying his hair with over his nape, heading to the kitchen to prepare his dinner. he rips the lid of the cup ramyeon halfway, and as he pours hot water into it from the electric kettle, your face appears on his mind again.
wait, there’s something wrong…
he tilts his head to the side, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to figure out what it is he forgot.
“ah, i’m so stupid!”
he totally forgot to ask your name!
“shit!” he shouts in higher volume when he realizes that the water has overflowed and is now dripping to the floor.
he puts the kettle down, taking a few steps back from the mess he made. praise heavens the water wasn’t hot enough for his toes to suffer anything more than a first-degree burn.
he starts to look around for anything he can wipe the floor with, his tongue poking his inner cheek.
“still having a bad day.”
—
but a bad day isn’t enough to break down jungkook’s spirit. he knows there will always come a tomorrow, so he seizes that tomorrow and comes home from work as fast as he can. there’s a big chance that you leave for work around the same time, right?
so he sits down on the sofa facing the aquarium, and he waits.
his head turns to the elevator each time it dings.
he taps his foot on the floor.
he checks tomorrow’s weather forecast on the app. clear skies. no chance of rain. high humidity levels.
he goes through the magazines laid out on the coffee table. he learns five ways to get over heartbreak. according to the quiz, he has a sweet and passionate personality based on the flavor of his lip balm. he thinks it’s pretty accurate. strawberry, he strokes his non-existent beard. could never go wrong with it.
next thing he knows, the clock strikes twelve.
he can no longer control his excessive yawning but his stomach is just screaming for the pack of jjajangmyeon in his cupboard.
he presses the elevator button with a tight-lipped smile. he’s disappointed that he didn’t see you at all today, but he was raised to have a positive outlook in life. you live in the same building. you have to run into each other again one of these days.
—
what does jungkook hate more than normal sundays? sundays when he didn’t get enough sleep.
for some reason, he’s still tragically stuck with working on the worst day of the week despite his repeated objections. the only upside to this particular sunday is that he is assigned to the ferris wheel. in exchange for thrice the amount of his daily wage in discreet tips, what happens in some of those cabins are none of his business.
if he ends up getting reassigned, he would be pretty fucking pissed off.
he’s restless as the elevator descends to the ground floor. he’s munching on a protein bar, jogging in place as to warm up his body for a race to the bus stop.
he can’t be the one manning the bump cars. bump cars are the worst. those kids hit you on purpose, he swears.
the elevator dings and he runs.
until an eye-catching color forces him to pull the brakes. his sneakers squeak against the tiled floor.
your back may be facing him, but he can recognize you from that cotton candy hair even from a mile away. you’re right where he was hoping you’d be last night, conversing with one of the janitors. this really isn’t the best time for your paths to cross again, given the reasons he was just grouching about, but his feet refuse to move.
you go on your tiptoes to sprinkle fish feed into the aquarium. you’re so adorable in your pajamas; you’re almost drowning in the black and white checkered cloth. are those yours in the first place?
“everything you need to know is written here… how much- how often you should feed them depending on the seasons, depending on how big they’ve gotten… jungkook worked really hard in researching. impressive, don’t you think?”
“i see…” he is finally granted his wish to hear your soft voice. “but why don’t they have names?”
the janitor scratches his head at your question. “they look too alike to have names.”
“hello! i heard my name!” jungkook pops in without a warning, causing mister park to flinch and slap a hand over his chest in shock.
“jungkook! i’m 71 years old! you could’ve killed me!”
“oh, that’s right-” he gasps. “grandpa, i’m sorry!”
jungkook attacks him with a bear hug, playfully rocking their bodies back and forth hoping that would calm down his vulnerable heart. for a brief moment, he feels like a child again.
“this is jungkook.”
the introduction was already made for him. that’s one less thing he has to overthink.
“____ here wants to feed the fishes every morning from now on. i told her it’s perfectly alright with me.” the janitor laughs. “with my age, you know how forgetful i’ve become.”
“really?” he breaks away, surprised by what he just learned. “that’s so nice!”
“it’s nothing. i’m happy to do it.” you smile and make eye-contact with him, but you soon break it, opting to glance at the aquarium.
you must like fishes a lot. he only felt bad for them because the janitor on night shift doesn’t give a single fuck about them; that’s why he did all that research hoping it would help with committing to the responsibility, which jungkook ended up shouldering in the end anyway. but you… you’ve been here for what? two? three days?
“tell you what…” he brings out the pen he keeps in the side pocket of his backpack. “this- this is my phone number. if you need anything, or incase you need someone else to feed them, contact me!”
he scribbles down his phone number on the notepad grandpa was showing you before his rude interruption.
“by the way, my unit is 1311. you can also just-” he knocks on the thin air, clicking his tongue to mimic the sound. “knock on my door.”
jungkook’s watch beeps twice everyday, once at 8:50am and then at 11pm sharp. the sun is burning bright and his shift starts at 9am. yes, he is nervous infront of a girl who is drop-dead gorgeous, but he should also be very much nervous about the (unfair) deduction from his measly salary.
“okay, i need to run to work! goodbye!”
—
so, his name is jungkook…
you crane your head to watch him rush out of the building. the uncomfortable sound of his sneakers squeaking against the floor makes you grimace.
the page he wrote his number on is ripped off from the notepad and handed to you.
“he’s a good kid.”
you force yourself to smile, and it slowly fades as you tilt down your chin and stare at the string of numbers in blue ink.
long after the janitor has left to fulfill his long list of tasks, you remain standing by the aquarium.
“you do have someone taking good care of you.” you whisper to the clueless fishes, caressing the glass. a genuine smile appears when two of them swim towards you, beady eyes trying to make sense of the stranger loitering around their homey cage. “you can breathe well and you’re warm in the winter. that’s a relief.”
after feeding them, next on the agenda is to cook your own breakfast. you head for the elevator, tossing the crumpled up paper into the trash bin before pressing the arrow pointing towards north.
—
“hyung…”
“why?”
jungkook sighs. “can you text me?”
“text you what?” seokjin’s forehead creases in confusion.
“anything. i just need to make sure my phone still works.”
thursday has been a slow day at the amusement park despite the school vacation and no one has tried to win a teddy bear since the place opened. seokjin is more than happy to spend his free time playing games on his phone in his own little corner at the amusement park.
well, that was before jungkook got bored at the ping pong toss booth and decided to hang out at the other side of the wall.
he shrugs and texts his younger friend the word ‘anything’ just to get him off his back. he goes back to playing his game, not curious enough to interrogate him with additional questions.
jungkook’s text tone rings at max volume.
“it does work!” he yells in exasperation, flopping down at his seat. “why hasn’t she texted me?”
“you were whining about the same thing the other day.” seokjin muses as his car crosses the finish line. second place. “you fool, just text her first.”
“i don’t have her number.”
“what do you mean you don’t have her number?”
“i gave her mine.” jungkook says quietly. “we live in the same building and i told her to contact me if she needs anything.”
“then i guess it’s safe to say that she doesn’t need anything from you.”
“seriously, why can’t i have friends that are nice to me?!”
seokjin bursts out laughing, definitely not a stranger to jungkook and taehyung’s bickering at the break room.
“you did this one to yourself! jungkook, flirt better!”
“easier said than done,” jungkook pouts.
you make him nervous. his brain goes blank when you’re around. in addition to that, he doesn’t know what you’re going through and he’s scared that you’d end up pushing him away if he oversteps.
“i gave her candy when we first met and she threw them away.”
“oh, that’s right,” seokjin loads a new game, snorting. “taehyung told me about that.”
jungkook’s jaw drops. “is he backstabbing me?”
—
jungkook enters the break room with yet another item from the lost-and-found. it’s been over two weeks since he found this orange beanie on the ground. must’ve fallen from the rollercoaster, that’s his best guess.
since no one has claimed it— “finders keepers,” he grins as he stuffs it into his backpack.
“thief,” seokjin jokingly accuses him from the other side of the table. “that’s how you were raised?”
“says the one who took the sony headphones yesterday.”
“i won it fair and square!”
he’d argue with the older man again, but his phone vibrating has stolen his full attention. he is hit with disappointment at the same moment that he snatches it from the table. it’s his mom, again, asking him when he’s coming home.
“you need to stop doing that. it’s getting sad.”
he sighs, hugging his backpack to hide his pitiful face. “i am sad.”
—
his walks home from the bus stop have always been a period for reflection and pondering. the streets of seoul are scattered with his indecision, worries, and anger. since his mother has been asking him for months, should he just go home and endure their living situation? maybe it’s better to be annoyed with the presence of people instead of being blue with a lack thereof.
so much for being independent. he spent most of high school anticipating the day he gets to move out, now he wants nothing but to go home. he can’t help but to think that life is but a vicious cycle of wanting and losing.
too lost in thought, he fails to realize right away that he has entered his apartment building’s vicinity. it’s the smell of cigarette smoke that brings him back to reality. the alley is dark, but he can make out the silhouette of a figure crouched down on the ground. assuming that it’s one of the guards hiding to smoke, he soundlessly enters the confined space with mischief up his sleeve.
when he gets close enough, the first thing he sees is the tip of the cigarette still burning red as the smoker takes a puff.
a car with blinding headlights zooms past.
it becomes unmistakable then— the identity of the person ten feet away from him.
there’s no one around here with same hair color.
none that he knows of anyway.
he is motionless; clueless as to what he should do. he should probably turn his back and leave. pretend this never happened. he never saw anything.
he can’t even be hung up on the fact that you smoke. if he thinks back on his past experiences with dating, this would’ve been a turn-off, but he loses the ability to care. the smoke in his lungs is negligible when your wounded sobs are breaking his heart. it’s ridiculous that the urge to also cry is spreading fast in his system, but he had a long day and he feels really fucking shitty.
you were going to notice his presence eventually.
he doesn’t know what he was expecting.
you lift your head, and eye-contact is made. none of you chooses to speak a word.
you’re as beautiful as the day he first met you.
you stand on your feet and you step on the cigarette, on the emotional connection he swore you had, crushing it under the weight of your boot.
he blinks away the tears threatening to escape his eyes. he should say something; offer an apology for intruding on a vulnerable moment, but you walk past him before he could form the words, shoulder harshly bumping against him.
could have it been on purpose?
“____!” he says your name for the first time, for what sounds like a plea. he follows you home like a lost puppy. “i’m sorry, i-i wasn’t… i thought you were another person… are you okay?”
“what do you think?” you spit out. the delicate voice he knows isn’t there, gone harsh and hoarse.
“is there anything i can do?”
no response.
he tries again. “anything at all?”
“oh my god, can’t you take a hint? leave me alone!”
your sudden outburst sends him stumbling backwards, the sensation of your hands on his chest still lingering despite the distance that was forcefully created between the two of you.
“i don’t know you! stay away from me!”
your infuriated voice echoes throughout the lobby. he is shocked. dumbfounded. his eyes, out of focus, seek your face, and he finds you heaving with tearful eyes.
he makes an attempt to speak, something to defend himself with, but in the end, he still says, “i’m sorry.”
a woman walks out of the elevator, and you immediately enter without looking back. jungkook remains standing where he is, with strangers’ eyes on him as if he has committed a grave crime.
—
you slam the door shut, hand still covering your mouth shut despite no one being around to hear your cries. you don’t bother turning on the lights. your shoulder bag falls somewhere on the floor and you collapse on the bed, still in your jeans and your heels hanging off your feet.
nothing matters anymore.
you’re suffering the punishment of somebody else’s crime. you’ve been casted out, stripped away of your dreams and your dignity. your life is over and you’ve accepted that, but maybe you haven’t. all is unfair. you’re so fucking angry but you’re too tired to feel it. and you’re alone. so alone. no one is on your side and it’s not fair.
you try to scream out, anything to release your pent-up rage, but it doesn’t happen. apparently, that’s what happens when enough people tell you to bite your tongue raw.
they say we curl up into the fetal position as a natural response to stress and anxiety because it mimics the sense of security we had when we were in our mother’s womb. the way you see it, your body will always be yours and it is the only one that you need.
so you curl up and you put your arms around yourself. you pat your own back until your wrist falls limp from exhaustion, and you keep your eyes closed until you fall into a deep sleep.
you pray to god that you never wake up.
—
you fail to achieve peace even in your dreams. in what is supposedly an imaginary land, you were being chased by faceless agitators with torches and pitchforks. you were crying and screaming, running on bare and bloody feet, tripping on branches and the stones they were throwing.
you open your eyes to darkness.
just as you predicted; nobody listens.
you feel nothing anymore and you hope it stays that way. if you can’t escape it, then perhaps, you can be desensitized to its horrors.
you force yourself to sit up on the bed, spending an unknown length of time staring into the void.
the first coherent thought formed in your head… no, not a thought… a person.
your bare feet brave the cold floor. the switch of the desk lamp is flicked as you sit at your desk. you grab a pen to write something on the free space of your opened journal pages.
under those numbers, you note down the name of the owner in cursive.
—
after the shitshow that transpired earlier, sleep became impossible for jungkook.
he doesn’t quite understand how he feels about you. however, it’s currently clear that there’s a part of him that’s pissed off. you made yourself very clear. he should maintain distance from now on. that’s the sensible, respectable thing to do. at this point, attempts at initiating any form of relationship with you appear to be futile. you’re a stranger to him, as you emphasized. this shouldn’t be as complicated as it is in his head… but fuck, the memories of your tear-stained face is corrupting his ability to rationalize.
it’s 2:33am. he’s been playing the guitar infront of the camera for an hour and a half already. the comment section is flooded by sleep-deprived people like him, sending song requests and questions about his personal life.
yes, he’s about to be in third year college.
no, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.
no, he can’t mention where he lives… but sure, he can sing ‘beautiful’ by crush.
“what do you mean? i just finished playing it ten seconds ago!” he squints as he scrolls through the new wave of comments. “sorry, art commissions are still closed. i’m behind on my workload… no, i’m not sleepy! don’t send me to bed yet… knees by iu? i love that song. should i play that next?”
his phone vibrates with a new text message, nearly causing it to fall from the stack of books he set it up on.
“oh- what was tha- what do i do? wait, everyone. i need to check on something!”
the live is temporarily put on pause.
“who is this?”
his eyebrows knit in confusion when he is greeted by an unregistered phone number.
2:45am
hi, jungkook. this is ____. i wanted to apologize for my behavior at the lobby earlier. i understand you were only concerned. i’m so sorry. i’d love to buy you coffee some time to make it up to you, if that’s ok.
this is real, right? he’s awake. he’s not hallucinating. the text message indicates your name and it says that you’d love to buy him coffee some time.
a gasp leaves his mouth, his hand flying up to seal his lips.
you texted him. you finally texted him.
he was starting to get convinced that you also threw away his number, but you didn’t!
he weakly sets down the phone, brain still processing the message you sent. does this make sense?
“i shouldn’t reply right away… maybe in the morning…” he nods to affirm myself. “that’s right.”
he begins chuckling out of nowhere. soon enough, those chuckles become chortles. he must be going insane. he picks up the phone and reads the message again.
“she sounds pretty even in chat. how is that possible?” he spins on his chair, so carefree. “but honestly, is one coffee enough for what she did?”
he shakes his head with a click his tongue.
“i don’t think so…”
hold on…
it feels like he’s forgetting something…
“ah, the live!” he jumps on his seat in panic.
he swipes out of the text message to go back to the app where he abandoned his thousand viewers.
“sorry, i made money.” he mumbles to himself. “i should end it now.”
—
his mood has done a 180. his routine consists of feeding the fishes dinner, and then himself, but he decided to skip the second part earlier for reasons that he has forgotten by now.
his stomach growls at his selfish decision.
given the time, he considered food delivery, but the fee made him exit the app immediately. he hasn’t gone to the grocery store as of recent either. the fridge has been wasting electricity, but his pride won’t let him turn it off.
how did people live without convenience stores before? that is what jungkook marvels about as he crosses the long hallway to reach the elevator.
a door ahead opens, and he would ignore it if not for one of the two people who comes out from the other side of it.
there is a man in his late 20’s, and then there is… you.
you are the deer and jungkook is the blinding headlights.
—
the coffee you originally offered jungkook has turned into a full meal. when you arrived at the convenience store, he knew what he wanted right away. he grabbed the biggest cup of ramyeon and tteokbokki, an egg, sausage, and cheese. he refused to let you pay for them at first, but there was nothing left to do after you handed the cashier the money.
the action was done out of obligation rather than will, but seeing how much he’s enjoying the food, you’re a little less displeased with the circumstances.
“is that all you’re eating? we can share mine.”
“it’s okay. i’m not that hungry.”
with the money you had left, you were able to afford a roll of gimbap. maybe it’s not enough to make you full, but it’s enough to satiate your hunger. you slowly chew the food in your mouth, an effort to hide your smile as you discretely observe jungkook devour his rabokki.
“the man from earlier, is he your brother?”
your chewing is put on pause. “how did you know?”
“how? it’s easy!”
he cheekily points at his nose using his chopsticks.
“you have the exact same nose.”
“ugh,” you grimace. “i’m tired of hearing that.”
your list of similarities ends there. he’s the golden child and you’re the black sheep. if your parents find out that he comes to visit you and he sends you money, they’d only see you in worse light.
“i know,” jungkook scrunches his nose. “i have an older brother too.”
cute.
“so… why did you lie?”
he’s seriously asking you like this? so casually?
you awkwardly set down your food on the table and you take your time sipping at your coffee to buy yourself some time.
—
“i was embarrassed with what happened before… me crying at the boat and everything…”
you’re having a hard time looking at jungkook in the eye. sensing your discomfort, he wants to punch himself for being so careless with his tone. until moments before, he felt too offended to consider the fact that you never owed him an explanation.
“you don’t have to be. it’s okay.” he reassures you. “we all have bad days.”
it doesn’t work the way that he thought it would. when you start laughing, he is lost.
“did i say something funny?” he chuckles along nervously.
“that quote, ‘it’s just a bad day, not a bad life.’”
“yeah?”
“it’s the opposite for me. it’s not just a bad day; it’s a bad life.”
you speak with such endearing humor and it works like a charm in making the atmosphere lighter. he’d pass it off as a self-deprecating joke, but based on your few yet impactful encounters so far, he doesn’t think you’re stretching the truth far. if he’s being honest, if your first meeting happened differently, he’d assume that you’re living a perfectly comfortable life based on your appearance alone.
“even now, i’m too embarrassed to show my face to you. but we’re neighbors, so i’ll try to get over it.”
“tell you what, let’s start with a clean slate.” he eagerly makes a proposal. “you can erase all the embarrassing memories of you from my brain.”
“h-how do i do that?”
“flick my forehead!”
you blink, eyes darting around as you try to make sense of what he said. “i was expecting some sort of stupid hypnosis.”
“or that,” he switches up, slapping the table as if you just came up with something revolutionary.
why did he say flick his forehead anyway? he knows you gotta have an overwhelming amount of pent-up emotions. you could go deku on him and blow his head off.
“let’s do that!”
“no, i like it.” you almost interrupt him. “i’ll flick your forehead.”
but he did suggest it… and you act so gentle and sophisticated. he doubts that you would make it hurt.
“here i go!”
he gets his bangs out of the way. “okay!”
he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. “please have mercy.”
son of a bitch. that hurt.
“ow!” he rubs the affected area, face twisting in pain. his eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “you didn’t hold back, huh?!”
you smile at him sweetly. “did it work?”
—
“you fed them, right?”
“of course i did. you?”
“yes, this morning.”
“okay, that’s good.”
you and jungkook sit in silence after that, eyes twinkling with wonder as they follow the stunning movements of the goldfishes.
deep inside, he’s feeling restless. you make him nervous, and he’s also nervous about you noticing that he’s nervous. it’s been a tireless cycle.
he sneaks a glance at you.
perhaps he’s overthinking again. it seems like you don’t even care that he’s less than an arm’s length from you.
he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed.
he sighs without a sound, comfortably leaning all of his weight on the couch.
“it’s called the dreamboat.”
“what is?”
the boat you cried in— can’t say that. you might flick his forehead again.
“at the amusement park.”
“oh…”
it falls silent.
jungkook is thankful when you have a follow-up question because he hasn’t thought of a new topic yet.
“i wonder why they called it that.”
“oh, because the owner’s daughter loves boats!” he shares one of the few fun facts he learned over the past year. “that’s why it was designed like it came from a fairy tale too.”
a mirthful smile forms on your face “my guess was too far off.”
“what was it?”
“mhmm,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest. “dreamboat is a word used to describe a handsome man, right?”
jungkook nods his head like he knew that all along. no, he didn’t.
“so i imagined the owner met their handsome partner on a boat- no, or a ship,” the epiphany hits you in the middle of your sentence. “they have to be rich since they built an amusement park.”
a romantic. you imagined a love story based on a word alone. jungkook’s teeth dig into his lower lip as he tries to tame his wide grin.
“that does sound like a good theory.” he casually bends over, resting his elbows over his spread thighs. “i think i like it better than the truth.”
“how did you know that though? the truth?”
he shrugs. “i work there.”
“you work there?” your voice goes up a pitch. “i didn’t know…”
“you? do you study or work?”
“call center,” you answer to get it over with. to his surprise, your body language shifts and you’re now facing him. “what’s it like working there? is it fun?”
apparently, a job at the amusement park is now joining his very short list of your interests: after motorbikes, smoking, and fishes.
“it has good days and bad days…” he trails off. he hasn’t truly given this much thought, so he’s also learning about himself. “but i didn’t expect it to be as fun as it is. sometimes it’s boring, but when it’s fun, it’s really fun.”
you scoot closer. “do you get to ride for free?”
ah, yes, the deciding factor when he was offered the job.
“there’s an employee discount, actually! but i do it for free anyway…” he shyly scratches his head. “don’t tell anyone i said that.”
“i don’t have anyone to tell.”
his heart skips a beat when he hears your laugh genuinely for the first time. quiet and delicate and airy— you grace this blue summer night like a spring breeze that takes away with it everything that burdens your mind and heart.
once again, the aquarium becomes the most interesting collection of atoms in the building. as for him, he is still unable to keep his eyes off you.
“did you have a pet fish growing up? you really like them a lot.”
“no,” you reply. “i didn’t care about them until now.”
“really?” his eyes grow wide. “wow, i seriously thought you were a marine life enthusiast, or something like that.”
you give him a look. “i thought you were a marine life enthusiast.”
“we were both wrong.” he shrugs. “but what made you care about them so much now?”
“i don’t know. i just thought of something when i was looking at them.”
he feels your hesitance to continue. your eyes connect briefly and he communicates that he’s listening with an open mind.
“they’re different from other pets, you know, like cats and dogs. they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.”
in the dark room, he sees the melancholy seeping from the cracked edges of you. although you act relaxed, your spoken thoughts paint the picture of a person whose sensitivity and sympathy touch upon everything.
“there should at least be somebody who cares enough to check up on them and make sure that they’re alive and well.”
“…and you wanted to be that somebody for them.” he concludes with a hushed voice, more to himself than you.
“but it turns out they have you already.”
“it’s not just me now.”
he mirrors your soft smile. it’s nice to see your frown turned upside down for a change. what was weighing down on him has become lighter, and he hopes it’s the same for you.
“the sun is about to rise.” you announce after a peek at the grandfather clock. “we should go home.”
jungkook isn’t a big fan of comfortable silence, but he can get used to it. he maintains a respectable distance from you in the elevator, engaging himself with the ascending number of floors on the screen. when the door opens, you’re the first to step out and he follows suit.
your destination isn’t far. you pause in front of unit 1303.
“uhm, this is me.”
yup, the same door he saw you come out of.
“i’m not far, just at the end of the hall. 1311, if you ever need anything.”
your eyes trace the direction of where he’s pointing before you nod in understanding. with a hand gripping the door handle, you offer him one final smile.
“goodnight, jungkook.”
—
if others cheese over good morning texts first thing after opening their eyes, then jungkook’s case is one of a kind.
he rolls over to his side, puffy eyes from sleep forming thinner crescent moons as he zooms in on your reflection on the glass.
10:08am
[attached image]
they’re happy and fed :)
10:10am
[attached image]
babies are getting bigger
this is how his mornings have been going for the past two weeks. he wakes up and he checks his phone for fish breakfast updates from you. in return, he sends fish dinner updates to you at night. he was the first one to send you a picture following the night you awkwardly bumped into each other. he didn’t want to wait around anymore.
were his palms sweaty? did he throw his phone on the bed after?
no longer relevant.
he now knows that your favorite color is blue and you have wednesdays and fridays off for the next month. that’s pretty cool.
another thing he’s taken notice of is that you don’t use emojis or emoticons aside from the smiley face.
although, there was once a miracle.
he scrolls up until he reaches your conversation from four days ago.
11:59pm
LOL i’m actually allergic to seafood ㅜㅜ
😭😭😭
“ah, i’m annoyed!” he kicks his feet; half of the blanket falls to the floor. “she’s so cute!”
things are indeed going great, greater than he imagined, but if he has to complain, he wishes he could see you in person more. he’s at work when you’re home and vice versa, so you don’t cross paths despite living on the same apartment floor. that 3am encounter was a rare phenomenon, it turns out. he chanced upon you a few times while running to work and you were feeding the fishes breakfast, but those conversations were barely conversations.
‘i just thought of something when i was looking at them… they can’t make a sound when they’re in pain.’
he hasn’t stopped thinking about that.
—
“when are you asking her out on a date?”
taehyung is on a mission to tease him for life even from daegu. he’s only thankful that his best friend isn’t video calling him from the toilet again because he’s currently having his lunch.
“i don’t know.” he grouches. “it doesn’t feel like the right time. i don’t want to scare her off.”
“when’s that ‘right time’?”
“i’ll figure it out…” he sighs, setting down the half-eaten sandwich on the table. “how do i say it…? i feel like- hm, she’s no- she’s not in the best emotional state right now.”
“so you admit it,” taehyung raises an eyebrow, smirking. “she has issues.”
that didn’t sit right with jungkook at all. he feels obligated to defend your honor.
“hey, stop being rude. you haven’t even met her yet.”
“come on, bro! i’m only looking out for you.”
the atmosphere shifts into a more serious tone.
“i don’t want you to get hurt trying to fix another person again. it was hard to watch.”
he moved on and learned his lesson— he wants to spit out as a rebuttal, but his best friend gave him much to think about. would it make sense to say that he’s moved on but he hasn’t healed?
“i know,” is what he ends up saying absentmindedly, distracted by thoughts that he isn’t keen on sharing.
and as if he’s been slapped back into reality, he fixes his posture and picks up his sandwich. “so, what’s up? have you even slept yet?”
“no,” taehyung responds nonchalantly. between the two of them, he absolutely has the more fucked up sleeping schedule. “i’ve been awake since 12am.”
“didn’t you say you’d spend the entire vacation sleeping?”
“this vacation was a trap.”
the camera darts to the abandoned mop on the floor.
“my mom makes me do all the chores everyday. this is worse than my actual job!”
a devilish grin is drawn on jungkook’s face. ah, the grass is always greener on the other side.
—
“mondays stay to be a pain in the ass.”
does it look like he’s exhausted and dirty from chasing around children all day? jungkook is stressed as he checks himself out on his front camera. he’s walking home from the bus stop after clocking out of work.
the street is mostly quiet, until a roaring engine approaches and he cringes at the raucous sound assaulting his eardrums. he’s already at the sidewalk for his safety and in accordance with the law, but he feels compelled to stay further back and wait for the vehicle to pass by.
seconds later, a black harley races past.
jungkook is dumbfounded as he tries to piece the puzzle together.
the lights are bright, and your pink hair blowing with the wind is even brighter.
“w-was that…?”
—
he was going to bring it up over text last night, but he decided to reserve it for physical conversation because he wants to see your face light up again.
you’re so fucking cool.
he’s both amazed and envious.
also, he’s pretty damn sure that you’re rich. he doesn’t understand why you’re living in this place and enduring the graveyard shift at the call center.
a foolish smile is permanently plastered on his face as he sketches a commissioned digital portrait. he really should focus, or else he might end up drawing you instead of his client.
he spins on his chair, pushing the wheels towards the bed, where he comfortably extends his feet over. almost missed it. the power has been out for an hour and he doesn’t expect it to come back until dawn. he was pissed about this being a normal occurrence during the first year of his stay here, but he’s gotten quite used to it. invested in a powerbank that almost looks like it can charge a car’s battery and he’s all set.
the aggressive pounding at the door drowns out the pop ballad he’s listening to.
“what? who could it be at this hour?”
he pauses the song, turning up the brightness of his ipad to use it as a makeshift flashlight.
the last person he expected to appear at his door says the last thing he expected them to say.
“jungkook, i think there’s a ghost in my apartment.”
—
jungkook sets down a hot cup of tea infront of you. in his mind, he thanks himself for keeping everything his mom sends him, even the things he do not like.
“thanks,” you mumble, picking it up by the handle.
he patiently sits on the other side of the table for two, giving you the time to calm yourself down from the horror that you witnessed. he has his emergency light propped up on the kitchen counter. he was saving it for when he finds himself in a grave situation, like a total blackout or an apocalypse. he didn’t imagine he’d end up using it for an unusual night like this.
“are you feeling better?” he asks worriedly.
you nod. “yeah, i just don’t want to be alone right now.”
“i’m here. you can stay until whenever you want.”
“thank you.”
you sigh with your eyes closed. you look like life has been drained out of you.
“i’m really scared, jungkook.”
“are you sure about what you saw? i mean, it’s dark. your mind could’ve been playing tricks on you.”
“i saw him. i really him saw him!” you frantically defend yourself. “i was washing my hands then i turned around and i saw him, sitting at the edge of my bed! he looked at me!”
his heart drops to his stomach when your chin begins to wobble and he sees your eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“and his skin was burnt off, jungkook.” you enunciate the words to emphasize the severity of what you experienced. “it’s so horrifying, i had to run.”
“hey hey hey- it’s okay. i believe you.” he squeezes your cold, trembling hands. “you’re safe now. it’s only us here. no spirits- i promise.”
he’s losing his mind a little bit. he’s holding the hands of the girl he likes and her pinky is wrapped around his. you’ve been putting him through a rollercoaster that, for once, he wasis terrified of. he wants to bask in this moment… but the specific detail you revealed is bothering him.
“and you said… he was burnt?”
“yeah, why?”
he presses his lips in a thin line, shaking his head. “no, it’s nothing.”
“there’s something.” you stop crying. “i see it on your face.”
“i swear, it's nothing!”
“you’re lying!” you accuse him. “what is it?”
“forget it, ____.”
“jungkook,” you say his name sternly. “tell me.”
shit, he’s done for. you can’t do this to him when he’s trying to protect you.
he swallows nervously. “but i don’t want to scare you.”
“i saw a ghost. what else can scare me?”
“the truth is…” he pauses, still weighed down by hesitance. but he realizes he has reached the point of no return. also, you’re squeezing his hands a little too tight. “this building had to be restored. it burned down a decade ago. people suspect there was foul play, but the firemen said it was faulty wiring.”
he’s the one telling the story, but he also feels chills run down his spine.
“oh… so you’re saying…”
“i… believe so?” he winces with a mix of guilt and fear. “but it’s the first time i’m hearing of a ghost story here. i haven’t had any encounter either.”
“i need to move.” you declare, not an ounce of humor in your voice.
“don’t!” he protests.
perhaps a little too passionately. could he be any more obvious?
“what do you mean? you need to leave too!”
“i can’t,” he fakes a pained expression. “who’s going to take care of the fishes?”
that works like a charm.
you untangle your hands and lean against the chair, transforming into a pensive state.
if he wasn’t going to convince you to stay, the fishes would.
“fuck,” you curse in a low whisper, sipping on your tea.
—
“i’m not the spoiled brat you think i am.” you frown, dangling your feet from the bed. “i sleep on the floor too.”
“i’d be rude if i let you do that.” jungkook insists as he fluffs his pillow. “i’m comfortable right here. i’m used to it.”
he was relieved that you weren’t stubborn enough to go back to your place and force yourself to sleep there. after seeing how terrified you were, it would’ve been impossible for him to close his eyes and shut down his brain from worrying. he hasn’t seen a ghost, but they have to be real. he likes to believe that we do not cease to exist and we have some place to go when we die. however, that does co-exist with being alarmed by a ghost of a burnt body sitting on your bed. he isn’t going to let you go back in there tonight. no way.
“you should get some rest. just tell me if you need anything, okay?”
“thank you, jungkook.”
“it’s no problem!”
his name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips. he can’t help but to feel giddy every time he hears it.
you lie down on the bed, facing the portable fan strategically set up on jungkook’s gaming chair. on the other hand, the emergency light is at the nightstand, acting as a night lamp.
he checks the time on his ipad: 1:48am. his battery percentage: 55%. he’s not yet sleepy, so he decides to continue working until he gets the low battery warning for 20%.
sitting down without back support becomes too uncomfortable after a while, especially when drawing. he doesn’t realize it when he changes positions, too focused on drawing the intricate floral patterns on the client’s blouse.
“is that your girlfriend?”
jungkook turns his head towards the voice and your face is only inches away from his. the word stops for a moment.
“is she okay with me sleeping here?”
he scoots a little further away to grant his racing heart some mercy. “u-uhmm, no.”
“no…?” you repeat slowly, sounding concerned.
“no, as in she’s not my girlfriend!” he further elaborates in distress. “i don’t have a girlfriend.”
“okay, cool. you scared me.” you huff out a chuckle. “i don’t like being the girl who causes problems.”
“no, you’re safe.” he manages to also laugh. “no one’s coming to pull your hair.”
“then who is she?” you point at the screen with your pouted lips, particularly the reference photo that’s been burnt to his memory.
“a client. people pay me to draw them.”
“oh, so she’s one of your french girls?” you crack a humorous remark.
the reference catches him off guard, even though he should’ve totally seen it coming.
he squints. “mhmmm, i guess? kind of like that… except they’re not, you know, naked.”
“i see,” you hum in interest. “you don’t like doing nude drawings?”
“honestly? i don’t know. i’ve never done it before.”
“no one’s asked you?”
he shakes his head. “no one,”
“would you do mine if i ask you to?”
he secretly pinches his thigh to prove that he’s not dreaming.
what the fuck?
did he hear you right?
it sounded like such a genuine and casual question in the name of art, but the worst thing he could do while his crush is sleeping over is to imagine her naked. he feels the warmth spread across his cheeks, possibly reaching his ears.
“hey, breathe!” you giggle with a push of his shoulder. “you don’t have to answer that. sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”
“sorry, i was just surprised.”
he forces himself to laugh and act like the question isn’t putting him through a crisis in so many levels.
“i’ll let you finish your work.” you smile at him, pulling up the blanket.
please do and stop shaking up my heart.
“goodnight.”
“goodnight, ____.”
—
jungkook is still flustered by the conversation. since you opened up the topic, he did give it some serious thought. he thinks he wouldn’t mind if someone asked him to do it. he makes all of his negotiations and transactions online so everyone so far have been a stranger. as for the people he personally know, unless it’s his significant other, wouldn’t it be awkward?
anyway, the chances of it happening are low. stressing over it is pointless.
he needs to finish this commission and move on to the next, or else he’d be encumbered by the pile of deadlines. he’s making the most out of this vacation so he can save more money and work won’t have to interfere so often with his studies.
sometimes he doesn’t understand why he works so hard either. his family isn’t struggling financially. in fact, he’s studying to take over their businesses. his parents have been nothing but kind and supportive, but he is never compelled to ask them for money. he feels this strong and all-consuming need to prove himself as capable and independent. nothing compares to the gratification of buying his wants and needs with the money he sacrificed his blood, sweat, and tears for. he can’t stop himself.
“i can’t sleep…” a quiet murmur reaches his ears. “may i watch you draw?”
oh, he thought you’ve fallen asleep twenty minutes ago.
“of course,”
he is more than happy to move closer to give you a good view of his progress.
if there’s one thing he isn’t ashamed to boast about— it’s this.
it’s silent except for your breathing and the taps of his pen on the screen. he’s a tad self-conscious with the presence of engrossed eyes, but he would describe the atmosphere as peaceful.
“you’re such a great artist.” you whisper in awe.
jungkook can’t recall the last time he felt this simple yet profound type of joy.
—
true to your words, you did move as morning came.
jungkook wakes up to an empty bed and a commotion outside.
“____?”
he knocks on the bathroom door, not expecting it to swing open from the action. he takes his chances and peeks inside with another call of your name, but you’re still nowhere to be seen.
did you really leave without saying goodbye?
he sighs in disappointment. he was planning on buying you breakfast, too. he knew it. he should’ve made the invitation last night.
a series of loud thumps prompts him to scratch his head in irritation. he’s tired and sleep-deprived and he didn’t see his crush’s face first thing in the morning. the day has barely started and it’s already a bad one.
he opens the door with a considerable force, mouth running before his eyes could perceive his surroundings.
“could you guys turn it down? people are still slee-”
“jungkook! you’re awake.”
you jog over to him with a more cheery expression than last night’s. there’s no windows but the sun is shining over his face.
“sorry about the noise. i’m moving to a new unit.”
he can see that, but his brain remains in a muddled state. how did you make the arrangements overnight? he gapes at the men hauling your things to your new apartment.
“1308?” he exclaims.
“yeah,” you shyly reply. “it’s the only vacant one left.”
almost but not quite. does he have the right to complain? you’d be one door away.
he’s fucking ecstatic.
if he just sets aside the fact that it took a ghastly ghost encounter for the stars to align.
the wrinkles on his forehead disappear and become crinkles by his eyes, accompanied by an excited beam.
“should we feed them together then grab breakfast after?”
—
time passes by too fast for jungkook’s liking. summer vacation ended a month ago and he’s back to busting his ass off at the university. he misses the days and nights when the only thing he was going insane about is you.
what’s taking you so long to reply? did he say something stupid? does he look nice? smell nice? are you crying again? that ghost isn’t bothering you again, is he?
now that he needs to focus on something less interesting, say studying taxation and business law for subsequent long quizzes tomorrow, he’s back to crushing cans of energy drinks.
fuck, he misses you.
your purple hair tie is still wrapped around the knob of his bathroom sink faucet and he keeps forgetting to give it back to you. you make him nervous but he forgets he ever felt that way after five minutes with you. he craves to be connected with you on a more intimate level. he wants to be more than just a neighbor you make small talk with, over text. he wants to be more than a friend you sometimes eat with, on your days off. but he likes you so much that he can be content with the way things are, so long as it means you won’t go further away.
he’s absolutely pumped to hear his friends berate him for being stupid enough to enjoy the bare minimum from a woman.
an email notification interrupts his intense cramming session with his ipad and his illegally downloaded ebooks.
No Name
Subject: IMPORTANT! READ ME!
snack break at the aquarium?
he already has a strong inkling on who the sender could be; he clicks the email address and unsurprisingly, it says that it’s you.
did you seriously go out of your way to email him because he told you that he was going to keep his phone turned off while studying?
ridiculous.
so cute and ridiculous.
—
“i brought your favorite.” you meekly present your gift to jungkook. “uh, actually i’m not sure if it’s your favorite. but it’s become mine since you gave it to me.”
jungkook gapes at the bag of his favorite gummies sitting on his lap. just for comparison, the packet he gave you that day you first met came from his pocket. this one is almost as wide as his thighs slightly spread apart.
but most importantly, what did you just say?
“y-you didn’t throw it away?”
“what are you saying?” you pout, a little hurt by the question. “why would i throw it away?”
“you should’ve. you can’t just accept food from strangers!”
he was being pretty before. he humbly admits that. he just wanted an excuse to bring you up so he whined about it for weeks, but he was never genuinely upset. not specifically about that, anyway.
“why are you so upset?” you match the rise of his voice. “i’m fine and we ended up being friends. now say ‘thank you’ and open it!”
“ah, sure-” he panics, fumbling with the zigzag edges of the packaging. you were kind of hot for that. “thank you! this was seriously so thoughtful of you.”
you nod in satisfaction, stealing a gummy worm the second that the plastic is torn open. “you’re welcome!”
—
“i should stop eating.” jungkook mumbles to himself, chewing the other half of his nth gummy worm of the night.
“yeah,” you agree, pulling your hand away from the bag with an impressive show of restraint. “we should.”
the two of you probably look bizarre in the eyes of strangers, particularly those who have seen you one too many nights admire the golden creatures like you’re being hypnotized and nothing else in the world matters. jungkook never knows what’s running in your head, but to him, these moments are all about being beside you. the loud beating of his heart could be attributed to the caffeine, or the bare skin of your knees touching and no one daring to move.
“the tank feels…” there is a delay as you search for the appropriate word. “dull. can’t there be more variety of plants?”
“i tried,” he laughs at the funny memory you evoked. “when i came back the next day, two of them already ate everything.”
you gasp. “everything? is that normal?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but you unknowingly interrupt him with a raise of your hand.
“okay, i’m searching on naver.”
jungkook behaves for the fifteen minutes that follow, sneaking a peek at your phone screen every now and then with squinted eyes. you read fast, and your knees shake when you have to think hard. they’re small things. they don’t matter that much. but they’re still parts of your entirety which he is to be well-aquainted with.
“according to this person, we can try giving them marimo moss balls to play with… and hmmm-” you hum, lips puckering into a pout. “then for plants, anubias and java ferns?”
“i still know the address of the place i bought the plants from before. we can go when you’re free.” he offers, jumping on the opportunity to spend time with you outside of this building.
“you free sunday?”
“is the afternoon alright? i have to go to uni in the morning.”
please say yes.
“sure, that works.”
he breaks into a triumphant smile.
yes!
—
jungkook has been looking forward to this day all week. he breezed through work and college, motivated to finish all his tasks so he could enjoy his time with you without any worries. he knows it’s not a date, but anyone can be excited to meet up with a friend.
“you look pretty.” he smiles, breaking the silence in the elevator.
“you can barely see my face.”
“i see it!”
your nonchalance slowly fades, seemingly replaced by unease, which confuses jungkook. you put on a white face mask from the pocket of your hoodie before facing him.
“now you don’t!” you banter with him playfully.
“too late,” he sticks his tongue out. “i can draw it from memory.”
this is your usual day outfit, a basic classic. a hoodie paired with shorts and sneakers. the face mask is part of it too. in a crowd, you could be anyone, even him, if only your hair doesn’t stand out among the neutrals. he likes it. he likes how you match outfits without trying to. you get more dressed up at night, which makes sense since you go to work.
“so you can draw me even if i flash you just once?”
scandalized, he almost chokes on his own spit. “____!”
“i’m joking!” you giggle.
“no, please do it.” he encourages you in jest.
that earns him a slap on the face. he touches the affected area. it didn’t hurt at all, you did it with a light hand, but he gapes at you dumbstruck.
“you can joke about it but i can’t?!”
you only laugh at his reaction. he also imagines that he looks funny. not long after, the elevator opens and you drag him out by his hand.
—
the cashier pushes back your extended hand. “sorry, we don’t accept card payments.”
while you pout sadly at the rejection, jungkook rushes to grab the wallet that you made him hide because this was your ‘idea.’
“here,” he puts down the paper bills on the counter.
“i’ll pay you back.”
“no, it’s fine. my treat for the fishes since they’d probably eat them anyway.” he jokes to comfort you.
jungkook guesses you have come to know him well too.
“okay, let’s go.”
he invites you to leave after the cashier gives him the paper bag. as you walk out together, your shoulders brush, and for a brief moment, he assumes that you would cling to him. he doesn’t know why he keeps doing that. you never do. he continues walking and he doesn’t even notice that he has left you behind.
the door is half-open and he’s stood in place, eyes scanning the store like he just lost a child at the mall.
of course, he finds you hunched over infront of an aquarium inhabited by a betta fish.
“do you want to get it?” he whispers, mindful of scaring away the little creature. “i don’t think i’ve seen a purple fish before.”
not even in art or television. it’s strange.
he feels your eyes glued to him. persuaded by curiosity, he turns his cheek.
his breathing stops when he sees your face so close.
he doesn’t know you removed your mask. you’re staring at him so intensely with those beautiful eyes, sparkling with the reflections of light. you’re dazzling, and intimidating, and it’s doing dangerous things to his heart.
a little nudge and he’d give you an eskimo kiss.
if there’s a perfect romantic moment to kiss your lips, he’d say it’s right now.
“it’s not the fish i want.”
he doesn’t hear you.
do you see how entranced he is by your lips?
“the shipwreck, it’s beautiful.”
his eyes chase the sight of them when you return your gaze to the aquarium.
“like you,” the words slip out without thought.
—
a soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips. you blink away the tears and you stomach the heavy in your chest. you know jungkook is still staring at you with those bedroom eyes and there was no deep thought behind his compliment. will he still find you beautiful when he sees who you are beyond the surface?
“like me…”
—
after dinner, you and jungkook planted the plants and installed the shipwreck you wanted. it was not cheap, but it was worth it, if it meant seeing your priceless joy. he carries around more cash than necessary when he goes out with you. he’s praying that you didn’t see his sigh of relief when the waiter said the restaurant accepts card. he doesn’t know much about your circumstances, why you stopped going to school and why you opted to work instead, but he knows you lead a lifestyle different from his. he’s not ignorant. he estimates your bag is five times more expensive than his ipad. but with how you’re soundly sleeping on his shoulder, he can say that it’s justified.
he learns that you’ve been working straight for fifteen days, with 10-20 hours of overtime per week. you practically live there. he can feel the weight of your shoulders on him, which is why he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up despite his bladder’s need of the bathroom. this is probably the closest he will ever be to you. he can’t be the one to walk away in this memory.
the humming noise of the aquarium’s filter fills the silence.
it always feels like he’s dreaming when he’s with you.
“after all that money we spent, we should really name them now.”
you release the yawn you were holding back while speaking, head dropping on his shoulder. jungkook stiffens at the suddenness of the physical contact, but then relaxes thanks to the tranquilizing scent of your shampoo— it has to be coconut, with some sort of flowers that perfectly compliment it.
“have any ideas?”
“yes,” he hears the smile in your voice. “you know those two who have similar hues?”
he hums, body vibrating underneath your soft cheek.
“tangerine, and then clementine for the smaller one.”
“those are cute names.”
“you like them?”
“yes, they really sound like siblings!”
“okay, i won.” you shrug your shoulders as far as they can go, as if you’re so pleased you could burst. “that’s settled. your turn!”
“hmmm…”
he unconsciously bounces his knee as he racks his brain, which you swat with a disapproving noise, mumbling “making me dizzy!”
“sorry,” he winces.
your giggles are infectious, bringing tickles somewhere deep inside of him, butterflies in his stomach coming alive like spring only arrived.
“shouldn’t we at least have one named after a flower?” he suggests. “hold on, i’ll search for good ones.”
“let’s give the flower name to the yellow one. she stands out, like a flower.”
you blink wearily, a soft smile amidst the haze, sent to the yellow fish who swam closer as if it heard itself being called.
he reads the list of yellow flower names out loud.
“dahlia-” you quietly repeat the name in awe, clinging to his arm to steal his attention.
“dahlia it is!”
“i wish dahlia would live forever.” you sigh, haunted by the inevitable.
“dahlia will outlive us.” he chuckles.
“i’ll protect her from the afterlife.”
he squeezes your hand tenderly. “i’ll be right there with you.”
and with unspoken mutual understanding, your fingers intertwine. neither one of you wants to let go, he feels it strongly and he is sure of it. his cheeks may very well begin to ache with how elated he is.
“that’s three… you know, i saw someone on youtube who named their fish coral. i thought it was a very pretty name. how about that?”
“i like it,” you chirp. “i kind of wish it was my name.”
“should i just give it to you?”
you lift your head a little, sleepy eyes connecting with his. “do you know someone who has the same name as me?”
“no,” he slowly shakes his head. “you’re the only one.”
“let’s give it to the one with the longest tail.”
your head drops on his shoulder, as if it’s where it belongs.
“i like being the only one.”
you fell asleep seconds after that.
he found entertainment in watching as much as the goldfishes playing around with the shipwreck. it’s a wooden ship split in two, with cracks and holes big enough for them to swim in and out of. even the sails have holes. the drawings on them are unrecognizable beyond his imagination.
it’s quite charming, but he doesn’t understand what’s special about it the way you do.
a teardrop drips from the tip of your nose and crashes on his arm, but he doesn’t feel it.
Jk is an ass dude. Man grabs and smacks way too much bts ass on the regular for it to not be.
ohhh definitely. mad at myself for not getting into this in the nsfw alphabet but oh well💔
i donttttt think its the same kind of intimacy as him loving boobs but it is definitely a thing he actively seeks? not even big jiggly asses necessarily LOL i think he just likes that they exist <3
probs the type of person to absentmindedly slap his s/o’s ass when he walks past them in the kitchen like its just second nature to see their butt and hit it…….. could also imagine his s/o doing smth like brushing their teeth and he stands behind them and just pats each cheek repeatedly while chatting😭
mirror sex jk req will be on hold until im back from holiday !!!!!! spending the week with jungkook in naples (jk) so wont get a chance to finish/edit til im back🥺🥺 then im back at work so ill have to write between shifts😭
sitting at about 3.7k words rn but its nowhere near done so expect that sometime in august‼️🙏
