téa

21+; using writing as a well trusted escapism method

[suga-kookiemonster]

ctrl alt del | jjk

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader word count⇢ 19.8k 🤭 genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ sexual content, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, corporate nonsense, jk is a nerd but he's also really hot 😩 a/n⇢ omg, she's finally here 😭 this fic has been sitting in my drafts partially finished for literal YEARS lmfaoo. as in, jungkook didn't even have tattoos yet years ☠️ in fact, the whole plot for this was spawned from that time namjoon was on a live in his studio and jk visited in this yellow buttonup looking like a hot nerd and namjoon said he looked like he had an interview. it had to be 2018ish...i know my OGs know exactly what i'm talking about, but i'll put it below the cut for reference. ANYWAYS this was fun to imagine, but it's also entirely fiction so please don't attempt anything that happens in this fic lmao. mood for this fic is this. hope you enjoy~ 💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

While you’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every quarter the company sponsors an employee barbecue where everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though friendly, she has zero filter and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in certain situations where you found her topic of choice inappropriate. 

Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate instead of your measly Assistant means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started and is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply truthfully. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales Boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from Accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “That sounds unnecessarily smelly. He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue button-up. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you prompt, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously indifferent to the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. They rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs in disinterest. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask distractedly. A glance back to the coolers shows Jungkook is gone, and you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy reminds you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching his athletic display across the grass anyway.

Monday morning—the start of the workweek, but also, rather depressingly, the end of the weekend. Everyone tends to be more tired and grumpy on Mondays (yourself included), and this is why your team considers it essential that you always stop by their preferred coffeeshop and bring in their drinks for a morning pick-me-up. You’re the lowest on the ladder, so you weren’t exactly sure how to refuse when you were asked one day if you would mind picking up some drinks for everyone, and then, after that, people kept sending you their orders like it was expected of you. The café is technically on your way to work and everyone always pays you back, but it’s still pretty irritating to have to forgo those extra precious minutes of sleep just so you can beat the long lines and get to work on time.

Today, you’re lucky enough to get ahead of the morning rush, but that means that you end up trudging into the building much earlier than you anticipated. You hope the coffee’s insulated cups do their job properly, because you really don’t have the energy to listen to Joy huff and puff about having to reheat hers.

Your trek to your cubicle slows when you realize that someone is already there, sitting in your chair and typing away on your keyboard. Their back is to you, swathed in an olive button-up, and it’s not until you get close enough to curiously crane your head to see their face that you recognize him. The guy from the barbecue last week—the one by the coolers.

He startles a bit when he sees you approach in his peripheral vision, eyes darting up at you in surprise.

“Hi.” You raise the tray you’re holding in an awkward greeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you.”

“That’s okay, _____,” he replies softly, wide eyes blinking a little from behind his round glasses. “I can get kind of spacey when I’m focused on something. I was just doing some updates on your machine and didn’t see you.”

“You…” Your head tilts curiously. “You know my name?” 

A small smile touches his lips as he points to your computer. “I’m updating your machine,” he reminds you.

Not to mention the fact that he’s literally sitting in your cubicle, your name tag clearly posted on the frosted glass that separates your space from Joy’s. An embarrassed chuckle leaves you when you realize your dumbass mistake. “Oh. Duh. Wow, that was a stupid question. Let me just get out of your way.”

“No, no, I’m clearly the one in the way!” His head shakes apologetically. “I couldn’t do this update remotely and I thought you didn’t clock in for another half hour—sorry about that.”

“I don’t,” you confirm. “But I tend to get here a little early so I can sort out everyone’s coffee order.”

A brow raises in surprise. “Do they really have you making coffee runs?” he asks incredulously.

You hmm in confirmation, moving to set the coffee on everyone’s desks. “Rite of passage, I guess,” you call over the divider as you work. Joy’s order today isn’t as over the top as you know she can be, but you were still rather embarrassed to order it (vanilla latte with oatmilk—one and a half pumps cinnamon, one pump hazelnut, an extra espresso shot and extra foam with honey drizzle). The barista had looked at you tiredly but hadn’t voiced her obvious judgement when she rung you up. 

“I guess,” you hear him say, but he doesn’t sound too convinced. 

Coffee distributed and hands finally free, you return to lean against your cubicle, hovering as he continues to quickly type and click. You look at him pointedly, a small smile creeping across your face. “Speaking of grunt work, I hear you’re the printer guy.”

His lips quirk. “I’m also the expert at updating Microsoft Word, just so you know.”

You laugh, and his eyes crinkle in amused response. “Oh, well excuse me, sir.”

“I’ll let it slide this once. Since you’re new.”

“And so are you. That’s why you’re the printer guy.”

He just lets out a puff of air that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. This close, you can now see the tiny holes that are trailing up his earlobe—he clearly has multiple ear piercings, not just the ones you saw at the barbecue. There is no jewelry in them now, though. 

“Jungkook, right?”

It’s his turn to look surprised, and you find yourself satisfied by the flush creeping up the back of his neck when he ducks his head in confirmation. 

“Us newbies gotta stick together,” you stage whisper behind a conspiratorial hand before leaning decidedly away. “Anyway, let me stop bothering you and go make some coffee.”

His eyebrows scrunch in clear confusion. “Didn’t you just bring some?”

“…Yeah, I am only just now recognizing just how bizarre this must seem,” you say sheepishly. “But none of those were for me—fancy specialty drinks aren’t really in my budget, so I tend to just brew a cup here.” 

“Did you say drinks?” a voice croaks, and when you turn your head, there’s Joy, walking towards the two of you. If her body’s sluggish movements weren’t enough to clue you in to the fact that she’s exhausted and possibly hungover, the designer sunglasses she’s wearing to tactfully hide half her face certainly do.

“On your desk,” you chirp as she walks past you without another glance. “Good morning!”

There is no response from the other side of the cubicle wall, and Jungkook frowns a bit, but you just give him a small shrug that translates to what can you do? before pushing off the wall to continue your trek to the kitchen. “You want one?” you offer. “I make a mean cafeteria coffee. Trial and error has taught me the exact temperature of tap water to use to make it taste less like sludge.”

His mouth smoothes back out at your joke, and though you wait for him to call you out on your ridiculous declaration, his gaze is already back on your computer. “No thank you,” comes his soft reply.

With a nod to yourself, you move to complete your task and leave Jungkook to work on his. When you return minutes later, newly-filled mug in hand, he’s already gone.

Today starts out pretty typically. After bringing everyone’s coffee, you settle into monitoring the company’s social media accounts. (When Joy first delegated this task to you, you were a bit confused, as social media is so vital to brands nowadays that handling it is technically a whole other full-time job. But it turns out you don’t have to do much above the intern level anyway—just answer customer questions and escalate issues if need be.)

Your manager has been out traveling for a week, but today she finally comes back to the office, and it makes for a nice change of pace when she hands you all of her scattered, hurriedly-scribbled notes and asks you to please transcribe them into something more cohesive and legible. Well, not nice, exactly (because at the end of the day, this is still busywork), but if you have to reply to one more Facebook comment with instructions that are clearly already on the product packaging, there is a pretty likely possibility you will scream. 

This is at least slightly less mind-numbing. Instead of copy-pasting things from a prewritten script, you get to try to make sense of what your boss had been trying to say when she wrote turkey club in the corner of a page filled with random numbers and dates. Was this important? Was it simply her plans for lunch that day? You and your fancy college degree have the pleasure of trying to figure that out while Joy and Alan, the web manager, get to actually do important things that are in their job descriptions.

Still, like every day, you try to dampen your frustration, try to keep a positive attitude. Because ultimately, this is an opportunity to grow your boss’s confidence in you, and that’s exactly what you want. Though you’re a little disheartened by all the busywork, you remind yourself it will all be worth it in the end. Your hope is that if you put in the time, you’ll eventually be trusted with more of the nitty gritty stuff. 

(You know…the stuff you actually got your degree for.)

But no matter how positive you are, things of course don’t go as smoothly as they should. After you’ve done a pretty fantastic job (if you say so yourself) of organizing and typing everything up, you send your manager the digital version. And, because you know the email may accidentally get buried in her inbox, you decide to print a physical copy for good measure.

You give the printer pretty simple, straightforward directions. One copy, double-sided (to do your part to save Mother Earth), the whole document typed in plain old black and white. But when you walk over, there’s nothing waiting for you in the printing tray. No humming to clue you in to the fact that the printer was working on your job. Nope. Instead, the admittedly ancient machine is quiet and still, and it stays that way for long enough for you to walk back to your computer to press the print button again, just in case you forgot to do so the first time. Still no dice. You frown, opening the paper tray to make sure it was full, then opening every other compartment that can possibly be opened to make sure there isn’t a paper jam somewhere.

Nothing.

Irritated, you stalk back to your desk, your first inclination to check with Joy and see if she has been having any of the same issues, but you find her chair empty. Probably got pulled into a meeting that they don’t find it necessary to loop you in on, even though it will ultimately be you who does all the grunt work for any action items the meeting produces.

Positive, you remind yourself, falling back into your chair and drumming your fingertips against your desk in thought. Maybe it’s not the printer at all. Maybe it’s your computer. You search your desk drawer for the introductory employee contact sheet HR had given you when you first started, and there he is—Jeon, Jungkook.

For a second, you consider sending him an email, but the green dot that displays he’s online has you shooting him a message instead. Much less formal, but likely quicker for the both of you.

You Hey Jungkook! Sorry to bother you, but I can’t print for some reason You The printer over here is ignoring me, and I don’t think I’m set up to print by the art directors

Despite what you originally assumed, he doesn’t answer immediately, obviously focused on something else. Still, you only have to wait a few minutes before you hear the soft ding you were waiting for. 

Jungkook Jeon Hi, _____. You mean the large printer by the marketing department, correct?   You Yes! I tried a couple times, but I don’t think the job even went through You Thought it best to just ask the printer guy 🙂

There’s a pause, one long enough that you worry that he’s forgotten about your lighthearted exchange from this morning. Shit. That was stupid of you. You’ve probably offended him. Fuck.

But if Jungkook is upset with you, he’s professional enough that it doesn’t come across at all in his next message. If anything, he just seems a little preoccupied. 

Jungkook Jeon Hmmm, let me check it out for you. Mabel can be a little uncooperative. You Mabel? 

Silence again, this time for a good five minutes. You answer some emails so you’re not just sitting there twiddling your thumbs. 

Jungkook Jeon Sorry, was running some diagnostics in the background to see if I could find the problem  Jungkook Jeon IT kinda calls that printer Mabel because we’re pretty sure she’s worked for the company for longer than all of us combined. Seems fitting

You can’t help but snort at that. Cute, and likely not inaccurate. Mabel, it is.   

Jungkook Jeon One of these days Mabel’ll finally retire, but it won’t be today—looks like she’s running fine. Do you mind checking for me and seeing if you can access the marketing server? 

A few clicks, and when double clicking on the server icon doesn’t bring up the same list of folders it usually does, it confirms the conclusion the both of you have already come to—your computer is the problem, not Mabel.

You No dice 😕 Jungkook Jeon Got it. I think something went weird with your network connection after I updated your machine this morning. I can fix that for you! You Awesome! I appreciate it! Jungkook Jeon Of course! Can’t have my sparkling reputation as the Printer Guy tarnished so easily 😉 You LOL

You allow him remote access to your computer when a pop-up prompts you to, and he gets you up and running before your manager’s meeting is even over.

Lunch has always been an interesting—albeit potentially exhausting—part of your day. You learned early on that attempting to take the break you were legally entitled to at your desk did not stop anyone from continuing to ask you for things. Unfortunately, there weren’t many solutions to this problem—you didn’t get paid enough to be able to consistently eat your lunches out, and you lived too far away from the office to go home for lunch instead. So, you started taking your lunch break a little earlier than most of your other coworkers did, ensuring that the cafeteria was pretty empty and allowing you the space to decompress and eat your bagged lunch in peace. 

And as things usually went with this company, it didn’t take long for that peace to be interrupted. Once she noticed you disappearing from your desk, curiosity had Joy tagging along one day, and after that, it only took a couple weeks before both she and Wendy joined you. 

(Later, you would have the great idea to simply enjoy your bagged lunch in the park a few blocks away, but the weather wasn’t always great and at that point, the other two started to expect you to eat with them.)

So that’s exactly how you’re spending your lunch now—scarfing down the soup you made a few days ago that you’ll eat until it’s completely gone, while Joy and Wendy giggle and gossip to each other. As much as they apparently want to eat lunch with you, they tend to be pretty nonplussed by how you never contribute much to their inane conversations. 

And you’re fine with that. In the time it’s taken them to get comfortable invading your zen time, you’ve learned how to properly tune their tittering out. You’re good at nodding at the right times, at throwing in perfectly placed hums that indicate you’re listening, even when you’re not.

Today, it’s a sudden, uncharacteristic pause in their chatter that prickles against your diverted attention.   “That’s weird,” you hear Wendy mutter, and that officially throws you out of you mentally making your grocery list. The intrigued way she’s looking behind you makes you reflexively turn, and that’s when your eyes set on Jungkook.

He hadn’t been there when you first sat down for lunch, but he is now, sitting alone a couple tables away. He’s the only other person in the cafeteria, but from the AirPods in his ears and the way his eyes are focused on his phone screen, you doubt he’s even noticed this fact.  

Joy’s lips downturn slightly into a puzzled frown. “Hmm. IT guys never come down voluntarily from their tower.” 

Your head tilts as you mull over that. That isn’t exactly true. You have only seen Jungkook in passing a few times over the last couple weeks, but those few times prove IT aren’t exactly the antisocial specters the two women in front of you keep painting them as. You have even exchanged the short pleasantries with him that are socially expected when crossing paths at the coffeepot.  

“Wonder what he’s doing here?” Wendy says, not nearly quietly enough in your opinion. Embarrassment  flashes hot through you, inwardly chastising yourself for continuing to associate with such casually judgmental people. You’re already mentally preparing to apologize for your lunch mates when a covert glance out of the corner of your eye shows that Jungkook’s still paying your group no attention, taking distracted bites from his sandwich as his head bobs slightly to whatever is playing through his headphones.

“Whatever,” Joy says with a dismissive shrug, and then just that easily, the two are back gossiping about Cindy in HR.

From then on, you notice that Jungkook continues to eat lunch in the cafeteria at the same time as you. Sometimes, he beats you there, already at his designated table and munching on whatever he brought that day. If your eyes meet, he’ll send you a small smile in greeting before immediately dropping his focus back to his phone. If you’re there first and throw him a wave of acknowledgment, he always returns it, as is polite and expected of two coworkers who don’t know each other beyond their forced proximity.

And you think nothing of it, too busy being your department’s errand girl, the person who gets assigned all the tasks no one else wants to do. The amount of interaction you and Jungkook have is only marginally higher than what you have with Namjoon in Finance, who periodically reaches out to you for any missing receipts for charges on the Marketing department’s credit card.

This slowly starts changing as you begin to have more and more technical problems. You being assigned to put together multiple PowerPoints and research whatever market trends tickles your boss’s fancy means you constantly have an ungodly amount of tabs and applications open. This means you’re not really surprised when your computer—an older model that is definitely on its last leg—starts freezing and giving you pop up errors. A force restart seems to fix the problem, but a new one emerges—now, no matter how many times you hit the print button and walk over to your designated printer, nothing awaits for you to pick up. Even scrolling through the printer’s print history shows no record of your jobs being in the queue. It’s bizarre—you even make sure to confirm you’re connected to the servers, and that doesn’t seem to be the issue this time.

Frowning, you make your way back to your desk and scroll down your chat messages until a familiar face appears.

You  Hey Jungkook! I can’t seem to print—think something weird is going on with my computer today

A soft sigh of frustration escapes your lips, fingers drumming irritably against your desk. It isn’t even noon, but the day is already looking to be a long one.

Resigned, you settle in to wait for him to answer you in the chat, but the little bubbles that indicate he’s typing never pop up. Instead, you’re surprised when movement in your peripheral produces Jungkook himself, slowing in approach of your desk, though his focus is still on his phone screen. He must have gotten your message in the midst of doing something else. 

“Oh! Hi,” you greet him eagerly. “Just the person I was looking to see.”

He looks up at you from beneath the curtain of his bangs, a small smile touching his lips as he stuffs his phone back into the pocket of his slacks. “Just the person I was looking for,” he returns. “What seems to be the problem?” 

“Mabel is being a bitch again,” you say with an irritated sigh. “Every time I try to print, nothing is happening.” 

Jungkook snorts, amused, and it’s only then that your brain registers exactly what you just said. Swearing at work is unprofessional so you make it a point not do it, but that one slipped out so casually. “Oh—sorry.”

But if Jungkook is offended, it certainly doesn’t show in the responding chuckle he lets out. “That’s definitely on brand. I can fix that—let me take a look.”

You move to relinquish your seat, but he’s already leaning over you before you can do more than shift your weight. So you just let go of your mouse so he can control it instead, scooting to the side a bit and trying your best not to think too hard about how he’s close enough for your clothes to brush. Christ does he smell good.

Jungkook clicks around a bit, no doubt checking to make sure your computer is up to date and connected to everything it’s supposed to. “Is this what you’ve been trying to print?” he finally asks, brows furrowed in concentration.

You blink at the question, realizing with dawning horror that you were accidentally distracted by his proximity. You clear your throat, shaking your head a little at yourself in an attempt to clear it of all thoughts that aren’t solidly on the task at hand. “Yeah.” 

He clicks the print button, just as you have done for the past ten minutes, then straightens with a shrug. “Let’s give our old girl a visit and see what her deal is.”

You stand, following him around the corner to the copy room, where Mabel has proudly taken residence for who knows how many years. The fact that you can already see she’s humming with activity as the two of you approach has your eyebrows knitting in confusion.

Jungkook seems equally confused, reaching in the tray for the stack of paper that was just spit out and turning it over to confirm both of your suspicions. The report you’ve been trying to print for the last twenty minutes sits in his hand, likely still warm from how quickly and easily Mabel completed Jungkook’s request. He holds it up for you to see, his big doe eyes peering at you quizzically through his glasses. “This printer was the one that wouldn’t work for you?” he asks.

“Yeah, I definitely sent it to this one. Repeatedly,” you insist. Embarrassment prickles across your skin. “I swear it wasn’t working two seconds ago!”

Jungkook smiles when he hands you the papers, and it somehow softens his naturally cherubic face even more. “You just wanted to say hi to me, huh?” 

“Clearly Mabel likes you more than me,” you sniff at his teasing. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“You didn’t,” he says simply. He hovers for a few more moments as you check to make sure all the pages are there. “Let me know if you have any more issues, okay?”

“Will do,” you agree, mind already back on your work as you both turn to part ways. “Thank you so much for your help!”

“Anytime.”

“Didn’t you have a date last night?” Joy asks. 

It’s lunchtime again, early enough that the three of you are still the only ones in the cafeteria. While both Joy and Wendy are munching on some overpriced salads they had delivered from a restaurant a couple blocks away, you’re eating a boring ham and cheese sandwich that you haphazardly slapped together in your rush to get out the door this morning. Vaguely, you do remember Wendy mentioning something about an upcoming hot date, but she was always rambling about a hot date, and frankly, you don’t care enough to keep up with any details. Everything you know about her love life—and her, in all honesty—has been dumped onto you without you having any say in the matter. 

“I did,” Wendy squeals, excited as always to have the opportunity to talk about herself. “His name was Miles. We’ve been talking on Tinder for the past week—he was really sweet and seemed to want to get to know me. Last night he took me to a nice restaurant, really wined and dined me.”

“Wow,” Joy says, eyebrows raised. “That sounds promising. When are you gonna see him again?”

“I’m not,” Wendy scoffed. “He was nice and all, but he’s only 5’7. It’ll never work out.”

“True.”

You’ve been trying your hardest to zone them out, but the longer Wendy prattles on, each sentence more baffling than the last, you can’t help but interject, “Doesn’t the app let you filter out height preferences?”

Wendy pauses, a raise of an eyebrow betraying her surprise at you finally participating in her lunchtime shenanigans. “Not on the free version.”

“So why did you even entertain him if you knew you would never consider him seriously?” 

“..because I wanted to go to dinner?” Wendy replies flatly, the look on her face doing nothing to hide how stupid she thinks your question is. “Besides, he got what he wanted out of the deal. After dinner I took him home and let him fuck.” 

The flippantly casual way she throws out the vulgar word feels like a record scratch, especially since the three of you are, in fact, still very much on company premises. Wendy doesn’t seem to notice just how much she’s scandalized you, continuing to prattle on at full volume about how the sex was pretty good for a Tinder date, even though he refused to eat her out. 

At this point, you’ve long slowed in your chewing, now entirely too incredulous by the absurdity of the situation you’ve found yourself in to eat. 

“You didn’t suck him, did you?” Joy asks.

Wendy scoffs. “Of course not! I’m not giving head to some random anyway, especially if he’s not gonna give me mine first.”

“Can we not talk about this?” you mumble.

They both turn to stare at you, judgement plain on their faces. Wendy snorts. “Wow, _____. I never took you to be a prude.”

“I did,” Joy slides in under her breath.

You let out an agitated huff. This is ridiculous. “I’m not a prude.”

The two of them share a look. After a pause, Wendy finally asks in a way that indicates that it doesn’t really matter what you say because her mind is already made up, “Then what’s the problem?”  

Aside from this conversation being a massive HR violation?

Wendy continues smugly, as if she’s figured you out, “Talking about oral hit a nerve…interesting.”

Yes, Wendy! you think sarcastically, fighting the intense urge to roll your eyes. The whole rest of the convo was good and dandy—oral was definitely the line, though! 

Joy just looks at you, her eyes narrowing the longer she does. Her scrutiny makes your skin prickle in irritation. “You have gotten head before, right?”

“Okay!” you say sharply, stuffing the uneaten half of your sandwich back into the bag. “One, that’s neither of your business, and two, this conversation is completely inappropriate. Let’s change the subject, please.” 

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them visibly surprised by your response. Joy actually looks a tiny bit proud that you stood up for yourself, but Wendy just sniffs and mutters, “That obviously means no.” Ultimately, they both back off, choosing instead to chatter about the newest design of Joy’s nails.

You exhale a tiny sigh of relief. Wendy was hitting the nail too close to the head and you truly didn’t feel like explaining your life story to a nosy coworker who was nothing more than your acquaintance, at best. Now that they’ve finally let you out of the hot seat, you’re fully planning to spend the rest of your lunch hour zoning out in relative peace. 

But before you can properly dissociate, you hear someone cough behind you. 

Your blood runs cold. You already know who it is—no one else tends to eat lunch this early.

“How long has he been sitting there?” you whisper, already dreading the answer.

Joy waves an unbothered hand. “I don’t know, like five minutes?”

Five minutes. Long enough to have heard… 

You’re immediately mortified, and it must show on your face, because Wendy just snorts and says way too loudly for your comfort, “Oh, relax, this is probably the most action he’s gotten in months. I’m doing him a favor.”

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK. “Are you serious right now?”

“Calm down,” Joy says, rolling her eyes. “Look, he’s not even listening to us.”

And a slow, discrete turn of your head confirms what she says—Jungkook, in an ugly salmon button-up today, has his earbuds in, eyes downcast to his phone screen, lips soundlessly forming the words to whatever song he’s listening to. You feel a tiny bit of relief, but embarrassment still roils deep in your belly, suddenly making your half-eaten sandwich completely unappetizing.

You stand, grabbing the brown paper bag that contains the remnants of your lunch and hoping against hope that you’ll be able to bolt without him noticing.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” Wendy sighs, annoyance bleeding into her tone. “I told you I didn’t realize you were a prude. We can talk about something else.”

You bristle, but tamp down the urge to defend yourself and point out again that you aren’t a prude, you just don’t want to be the office harlot either. “It’s not that,” you lie. The judgmental look in Joy’s eye only softens when you say, “I just remembered I forgot to print the printouts for the meeting this afternoon. I’ll see you guys later?”

“Sure,” Joy says dismissively, and Wendy says nothing at all. They’ve already moved on, no longer interested in your swift escape, attention eagerly back on the details of Wendy’s weekend. That’s works perfectly fine for you—you’ve had enough of being the center of attention for the day.

Blessedly, Jungkook doesn’t even look up when slink past him and out the door.

 It’s hot.

Third quarter is well underway, which means that it’s time again for the quarterly company barbecue. That also means it’s hot as balls. 

You suffer quietly, trying not to add to the stank atmosphere Joy and Wendy are already creating due to the heat. It’s an ambitious goal, especially since you’re already sweltering beneath your blouse—which was reasonable to wear within the chilled walls of the office, but feels rather ridiculous now, under the relentless beat of the sun. Despite being grateful for the free food and break from your maddeningly boring work, you can’t help but mentally yearn for the indoors, where there’s proper shade and air conditioning and decidedly less bitching. 

“I don’t know why they don’t just cater something for us to eat inside,” Joy mopes, dabbing at her brow with what you already know from experience to be a cheap, scratchy napkin. “How is anyone supposed to enjoy themselves if we’re melting?”

“It’s probably a ploy,” Wendy quips. “The more uncomfortable we are, the more likely we are to get back to work.”

“The date’s been on the calendar for months,” you point out wearily. “They had no way of knowing there’d be a heat wave today. Besides, the company’s already paid for the food. I doubt they intended to purposely waste that money.”

Joy scoffs in retort. “The company also knows throwing an outdoor event in July is the same as throwing one in Satan’s asshole.”

Wendy sniggers, but you don’t answer, biting back your response that outdoor barbecues are common during summer, and at least they don’t have you out here in the snow. Because honestly? This is only your second quarter with the company, and who knows what the fourth quarter barbecue looks like. 

All you can do is free some of the buttons on your blouse, undoing as many as you can while still being office-appropriate. As it is, you now have a little cleavage peeking out, but with how hot it is, you figure no one will say anything.

“Look,” Wendy says with an unsubtle tip of her head. “Looks like the soccer game is still on, at least.”

Fluttering the hem of your blouse in an attempt to get some circulation, you reflexively respond to her prompting, eyes following her line of sight. A few tables down, the Sales team has finished their meal and appears to be actively gauging coworker interest in joining their game. From the decently-sized group that’s starting to form by the open field, you think they’re pretty successful, despite the heat. 

Joy groans, lifting her long hair with a hand in an effort to cool off the back of her neck. “I don’t know how they’re doing all that when it feels too hot to breathe.”

Inwardly, you agree with her, but Wendy just gives a lazy shrug and says, “Hey, if we’re gonna roast to death, at least we’ll be properly entertained.”

“True,” Joy muses. “And they’re gonna be sweatier than usual.”

Wendy’s eyes glaze over a bit at the thought. You grimace, amazed that these two always seem to have their heads in the gutter. That’s my cue. “I’ll be right back,” you say, brushing off the back of your slacks as you stand, but they pay you no mind when you walk away.

You’ve already finished your meal, but it can’t hurt to take another look at the coolers. It’s so hot that you’ve already downed your first beverage, so a new one is in order. When you arrive to the area, two people from Customer Service pass, nodding at you in acknowledgment as they make their way back to their table. You’ve only just started to reach for a cooler lid when you hear someone address you again. 

“Hey,” a familiar voice says timidly behind you. “How’s it going?”

You reflexively turn your head, simultaneously surprised and not at all to find Jungkook standing there. He’s got on a long-sleeved button-up despite the heat—grey, checkered with a red and navy plaid—and you can’t help but wonder how he’s not sweltering. Though, the noticeable sheen on his face and the way his damp bangs are starting clump together tells you he just might be. 

“I’ve had better days,” you answer honestly, swiping the back of your hand across your forehead. Before you can catch yourself, that same hand is vaguely gesturing at him, head to toe. “How are you not melting?”

His lips twitch, amused. “I definitely am,” he admits. “I actually hoped no one was over here so I could stuff some of the ice from these coolers down my shirt without being judged.”

You snort. “Hey, who’s judging? Certainly not me. Knock yourself out; just make sure you leave me some.” 

He taps his chin, jokingly in thought, but to be honest, he does mildly look as if he’s actually considering it. “Well, we wouldn’t want the beverages to get cold…”

“Eh, there’s probably not that many in here anyway. They could probably consolidate coolers.” To prove your point, you bend over, cracking open one of the red ones next to you and peering inside. The expected assortment of generic sodas greets you, looking admittedly very refreshing floating in their ice bath. “See, this one isn’t even full.”

You angle your torso a bit so you can meet his eye properly over your shoulder, but as soon as you look up at him, his gaze hurriedly skirts away, color crawling up the back of his neck. You stand with a frown, confused by this, but ultimately brush off his weird behavior when you notice Namjoon from Accounting sidling up to the two of you. 

"Hey guys,"  he greets you, a friendly smile dimpling his cheeks. "We're getting some people together for a soccer game. I know it's really hot, but would either of you want to join?"

You’ve often seen Namjoon chatting with Hoseok in passing, and twice have even seen them leave the building for lunch together, so it doesn’t surprise you that the accountant is helping recruit for the Sales team's traditional barbecue pastime. What does surprise you, however, is that when he casually claps a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, the younger man first responds by blinking owlishly at him behind his glasses, and then, a few seconds later, giving him a nod of assent. 

Obviously you don't know Jungkook very well—not at all, really, outside of your ongoing feud with Mabel. But you didn't take him to be the type to be into playing outdoor sports, particularly in this weather, and you certainly didn't expect him to agree so easily. A smile from Namjoon and suddenly all thoughts of stealing cooler ice are gone. 

Namjoon turns back to you, but you're already shaking your head. "Nope, no thank you! Y'all have fun. I'll just supervise from over there in the shade."

"Fair enough," he chuckles, and then he's leading Jungkook across the open field to meet up with the others.

Mildly more interested in the game now, you take this as your cue to grab the beverage you came for—a can of a Lipton knockoff and a bottle of water for good measure—and return to your table.

Joy and Wendy are still yapping when you approach, though in your absence, Joy has apparently decided to move to Wendy’s side of the table. It only takes you following their line of sight to quickly recognize why—that side of the table has an unobstructed view of the upcoming soccer game. Well, unobstructed, so long as you change your seat too. Awkward about intentionally getting in the way, you pause for only a moment before ultimately reaching for the end seat perpendicular to them instead. 

When you lean over a little to pull your chair out from under the table, Joy finally deigns to acknowledge you, ticking an eyebrow. “I can see down your shirt,” she tells you offhandedly. 

Your head snaps down, and you realize she’s right—undoing those few extra buttons has made the billowy fabric more susceptible to gravity, particularly when you leaned over. You yourself could see your whole chest and the basic bra that supported it, and at this angle, you doubt your blouse covered much of that from Joy’s gaze. A hand immediately snaps up to press the material back in place, but before you can even get properly embarrassed, her attention is ripped from you, eyes wide at something behind you.

“Holy—”

Wendy's jaw drops. Your head reflexively turns in the direction they're gawking at.

And before you can stop it, your jaw drops too.

Your tablemates have been known to be dramatic, and are certainly the type to stretch a fact or two. But it’s only now that you fully understand their fixation on these Sales soccer games, because yes, sometimes they do indeed take their shirts off. Like now.

Other than one girl from Compliance, all of the game’s recruits appear to be men, and as such, the group has chosen to distinguish teams by shirts vs. skins. And while the sudden appearance of skin naturally draws most people’s attention, your attention only gravitates towards one person. Cause what the fuck.

You almost don't recognize him, your brain rapidly shuffling through the information it's collected about him over the past few months and struggling to reconcile with what your eyes are actually seeing. Because the Jungkook you know wears glasses and long sleeves and has an unassuming hairstyle that looks suspiciously like a bowl may have been involved at some point. 

But the person you're looking at now? Glasses have been discarded, apparently no longer needing optical assistance, and he’s ditched the button-up, sweat making the white sleeveless tank he has on underneath spottily transparent and divulging the dusk of his nipples. Now that you can properly see the taper of his slim waist, his shoulders are proportionally more broad than you realized. And, since he clearly has no regard for your rapidly rising blood pressure, Jungkook decides now is the perfect time to reach over said shoulders, grab fistfuls of damp fabric, and pull. The sight of him slipping the shirt over his head—the ink of his hair sinfully mussed, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement—has you reflexively swallowing, mouth dry.

He's absolutely ripped. 

There's no other way to say it. A superior specimen, built and honed in a way that's only possible through years of hard work and discipline. He's still lean enough that you can rationalize how you’ve never picked up on that amount of muscle hiding beneath his unassuming dress shirts, but you're still gobsmacked. 

Your mind spins, struggling to come to terms with the near impossible fact Jungkook actually pulled a Clark Kent on you. Well, pulled a Clark Kent if Clark Kent was also covered in gorgeous ink, pigment swirling up his right arm from wrist to shoulder. From this distance you can’t see the exact designs that make up his intricate sleeve, but you can tell it was composed with a purposeful eye. 

Jungkook is absolutely ripped and tattooed. Jungkook. Printer guy Jungkook.

Flustered and trying not to be, you quickly look away, clanking your jaw shut and trying to focus on the plastic tabletop instead. Dear god, this is embarrassing. You really just gawked at your coworker! He was minding his own business and your jaw just reflexively unhinged like a degenerate. God, you hoped he didn't see that.

But any mortification you have is apparently not shared by the other two at your table.

“Is that Justin?!” Wendy demands rather shrilly, eyes wide, and the volume of her question would embarrass you even more if your brain could process any other reaction right now other than straight static. “Justin from IT?!”

You swallow thickly, your responding correction weak and delayed. “Jungkook.” 

“Finally,” Joy groans, pushing her plate away dramatically. “Some good fucking food!”           

You can’t help it then—your eyes drift back up, lured to the soccer players once more and zeroing in on him immediately. Seemingly unable to stray from his form, the heat already producing a sheen over his golden skin even though the game hasn’t started yet.

Surrounded by a few surprised male coworkers, Jungkook’s slightly hunched into himself, shy at the sudden attention. Even with the distance, you can see how Hoseok claps Jungkook on the back, just as animated over his newly revealed physique as the members of your table. But while everyone else is excited by this revelation…

Across the field, Jungkook innocuously turns his head in your direction. Like magnets, his eyes hone in on yours, your gaze locked for a few seconds until another loud What the fuck?! from Wendy frees you from the spell and you hurriedly look away again, a completely different kind of heat washing over you.

Jesus, you need to get ahold of yourself. There’s no way he was actually looking at you—it’s too sunny, and he’s not even wearing his glasses! He probably can’t even see that far.

But when you brave another peek in that direction and realize you can literally count his abs from here—

What the fuck, indeed.

Mutely, you watch the game unfold, not as self-conscious when it becomes clear that the whole office is doing the same. Though Joy and Wendy have been very salacious in their excitement for it, the soccer game is evidently a company barbecue highlight for others as well. And you’re sure Jungkook joining the fray has only added to the interest, as he’s a completely new addition to the equation.

And to your continued astonishment, Jungkook is good. He’s fast and lithe and brazen. He proves to you, again and again, that he can kick the ball with such ferocious accuracy that the other team’s goalie eventually stops trying to get in his way and simply resorts to trying to protect their vulnerable body parts instead. His intensity only entices reciprocal energy from everyone else, and what has traditionally been a lighthearted game between coworkers has now transformed into a group of competitive men who feel they now have something to prove. 

Joy and Wendy are delighted by this development, squealing and cheering and tittering amongst themselves. You sit quietly, still trying to mentally process this new development, but when you start to feel embarrassed by just how much you’re staring, you decide to call it a day. No one really notices when you stand and gather your trash, and luckily the distraction of the game means you’re able to slip out without any fanfare.

This quarter’s barbecue being on a Friday means you’re blessed with a weekend to decompress and regroup. Unfortunately for you, the office doesn’t just…move on from the event like it has in the past. Instead, this particular barbecue was apparently such a success that you continue to hear chatter about it for the next week, mostly in passing. But while everyone else makes small talk about how much fun they had, Joy and Wendy choose to hone in on the only thing they truly consider worthy of discussion—Jungkook. 

Today, just as they have every day for the past few months, they join your table when you take your early lunch. However, to their increasing irritation, the object of their current fixation isn’t here. In fact, Jungkook hasn’t showed up to the cafeteria during your lunch time since before the barbecue, and you inwardly have to admit it’s a little strange without him. You sat at different tables and the two of you never really said much to each other beyond the expected niceties, but you’ve gotten used to his presence all the same. 

You actually have barely seen him at all, with Mabel on her best behavior this week and Jungkook seemingly busy with something that has kept him mostly out of common areas. Still, with your embarrassingly strong reaction to him at the barbecue, it’s probably for the best. You’re a little wary of what your first proper interaction is going to be like, and you’ve been mentally preparing yourself to be as normal as possible. 

Your female lunchmates don’t seem to have that same mindset.

“Does he just not eat anymore?” Joy huffs. “I literally haven’t seen him all week!”

Wendy picks at her salad, lips twisted in a displeased grimace. “I actually saw him yesterday.”

Joy’s head snaps to her. “What?! You didn’t tell me that. What happened?”

“Since casually running into him doesn’t seem to be working, I figured I’d try getting him to come to me. So I unplugged my keyboard and messaged him, but he didn’t show up for like 40 minutes,” Wendy sighs irritably. “And when he did, he looked at me like I was a moron.”

Your lips twitch in amusement before you can stop them. Joy immediately says exactly what you’re thinking. “Well, you are a moron. You sat there for 40 minutes with your keyboard unplugged!”

Wendy soldiers on like she didn't hear her, undeterred from her gossiping. “So he came over in his ugly button-up and judged me! Plugged the keyboard back in and walked away without even saying anything.”

Despite not properly running into him all week, you actually did see Jungkook’s shirt in passing yesterday as he was turning down a hallway at the far end of the office. Wendy’s right—it had been an ugly puce. You found it endearing.

“He didn’t even roll up his sleeves,” Wendy mourned. “The least Jamal could have done was give me that.”

You pause in the chewing of the tuna sandwich you brought from home, exasperated. “Jamal,” you repeat flatly. “Really?”

Wendy waves her hand at you dismissively. “You know who I mean!”

“I mean, he’ll probably be more willing to talk to you if you treat him like an actual person.” Your quip is reflexive and indignant, and it kind of throws all three of you off guard. Joy raises an eyebrow at you and your sudden vexation, but you still add, though more subdued, “You know. Making an effort to remember his name is a good start.”

“Damn, who pissed in your Cheerios?” Wendy sniffs, though she doesn’t seem very offended by your callout. Over the months you’ve superficially gotten to know her, you’ve come to notice that she doesn’t really take much seriously—a simultaneously admirable and frustrating trait. “If you wanted dibs, you could have just said that.”

You feel heat flush up your neck, denial attempting to sputter from your lips, but true to form, Wendy has already moved on, tittering about how it’s about time the office had some proper excitement that wasn’t just meetings and spreadsheets.

“And speaking of meetings,” Joy pipes up, passing you a nonchalant look, “don’t forget to order those sandwiches for the client meeting tomorrow.”

“Sandwiches?” Your mind blanks. You knew your boss was hosting some clients in the office—had even been working on a lot of grunt work to prepare for it—but no one had mentioned anything to you about any sandwiches. “I thought she was wining and dining them?”

Joy let out a mildly irritated huff. “No, they have to catch an early flight home, so the plan has changed to a working lunch. Weren’t you listening in Monday’s meeting?”

No, you hadn’t been listening, because you weren’t invited to the Monday’s meeting. So it looks like a plan had been made and tasks assigned to you…without anyone bothering to communicate that. Typical.

You close your eyes for a second, jaw working as you attempt to tamp down your ever-brewing frustration. If they intend on you ordering from the usual place, it may be too late to cater for delivery, which means you’ll probably be stuck figuring out how to transport multiple giant platters from a restaurant five blocks away. 

“Do you mind forwarding me the request you sent? I must have missed it,” you respond neutrally, knowing full well the original email had never been sent to you. You stand to leave, the rest of your lunch break instantly soured by the revelation that you apparently have time-sensitive action items that are encroaching dangerous territory. “Just want to make sure I get the order correct.”

Joy nods, attention already back on Wendy and only half-listening. In the meantime, you’ll have to research alternatives, just in case.

While you’re lucky enough to find an acceptable last-minute catering option that will also, blessedly, deliver, that doesn’t mean you’re free to take a breather. 

It’s now the end of the day, and one by one, you see everyone around you log out and head for the elevator. Even Joy, who leaves right on time, despite knowing just how many tasks your small team still needs to complete for the big meeting tomorrow. What’s left is mostly grunt work, and while you are undoubtedly a grunt, it’s been clear for a while now that Joy no longer sees herself to be included in that category. So even though having more hands on deck would speed things along considerably, she still gathers her purse and gives you a cheeky finger wave on her way out.

At some point, the cleaning lady makes her rounds, scooting past you with a murmured apology to empty your trash can, but eventually even she disappears. Hell, even the sun abandons you, the soft glow fading from all the windows and stranding you with the cold fluorescent lighting that only remains on in your part of the office, because the lights have motion detectors. 

And so it’s just you, kneeling on the carpet and surrounded by a gazillion binders. Ensuring relevant reports and Powerpoint presentations are accurate and sending digital copies to your boss for her to have on-hand. Attempting to print physical copies and assemble them into binder portfolios your clients will be able to follow along with during the meeting. 

Attempting, because Mabel is, of course, choosing now to live up to her bitchy reputation. She won’t print on the right-sized paper. She won’t collate. She won’t be cooperative at all, and you’re too exhausted for this shit. Physically and mentally exhausted, trying your hardest to rein in the frustration that’s slowly expanding in your chest, crawling up your throat and triggering a familiar burning behind your eyes. It’s not fair. 

An exasperated noise escapes you without thinking, a loud, guttural thing. None of this is fair.

“_____?”

Your head snaps over your shoulder in surprise, not at all expecting anyone else to still be in the building. It’s Jungkook, because of course it is. Brows knitted in confusion, a black leather jacket thrown over his marigold button-up for some reason. He’s standing near the doors that exit into the lobby, evidently about to begin his trek home before you unwittingly paused his endeavor.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks, but before you can even deign to answer, he’s already taken a few steps towards you and followed up with a clearly concerned, “Are you okay?”

You take a breath, struggling to calm the storm within you. None of this is his fault, nor his problem, and you should just force a smile on your face so he can be on his way and leave you to your self-pity. But you’re tired, so tired, and simply don’t have the capacity to pretend anymore. You swallow around the lump in your throat, and when you do speak, the thickness of your voice betrays the tears that you’re fighting to keep at bay. “No.”

This only seems to alarm him more. He’s standing next to you now, as close as he can get with the array of binders and papers you have scattered on the floor around you like a fortress not meant to keep anyone out, but rather, to keep you inside.

“What’s the matter?” he asks gently.

“Oh, nothing,” you snort derisively, blinking rapidly at the ceiling in an effort to try to stop the inevitable. “Nothing. It’s just well past 7pm and I’m still here in this godforsaken building attempting to print out and hole punch and assemble twenty copies of this presentation. I can’t even get the printer to do what I’m asking it to! And there’s no fucking reason I should still be here because this all could have been done last week if my boss didn’t keep making nonsensical changes based solely on vibes. And tell me why there are six people on my team but no one thought to help me or take any sort of ownership of this at all—as per usual—or even buy me a fucking coffee for once! I haven’t eaten a proper meal all day but everybody just assumes they can go home because things will magically get done like they always do because they will! I will always make sure that they will! Every day it becomes increasingly clear that nobody in this fucking company gives a flying FUCK about me or my free time or my sanity—”

If he’s put off by your potty mouth, Jungkook certainly doesn’t show it. He just manages to catch your gaze from behind his glasses and simply replies, “I do.” 

Your never-ending rant rapidly dissipates on your tongue, brain struggling to comprehend what he just said. “…What?”

“I care,” he repeats softly. “How can I help?”

The sincerity in his tone renders you mute, too stunned to do anything more than watch as Jungkook drops the backpack he’s had slung over a shoulder onto the floor, tossing his newly removed jacket on top of it without much thought. He’s unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves, the reemergence of an ink-covered forearm making your brain stutter even more. Now that there’s much less distance between you, you can more accurately make out the shape of a delicate tiger lily, the languid form of a snake.

Jungkook clears his throat, the noise snapping you out of your stupor and making you realize you were just staring at him in silence, for who knows how long. Dammit. “What do you need?” he tries again. 

“Um, first we can start with Mabel,” you croak, mouth now embarrassingly dry. “No matter what I do, she refuses to collate.”

Jungkook shoots you a smile that softens his whole face. “Lucky for you, I’m the printer expert, remember? Don’t worry. We’ll get this fixed and be out of here in no time.”

He holds out a hand and you reflexively grab it, allowing him to guide you to your feet. Together, you make your way to the copy room, where Mabel has stubbornly been giving you hell all night. Jungkook gets right to work pushing buttons while you stand to the side, awkwardly shifting your weight a little from foot to foot.

“So why are you still here?” you ask, curiosity finally forcing you to voice the question that’s been looping in your mind since he first appeared. “It’s late.”

“It is,” he agrees, focus still on the printer. He kneels down, opening the paper tray. “There’s this huge system update that’s set to roll out next week. My whole team has been hunkering down and pulling late nights.”

Oh. That explains why you haven’t seen him around much since the barbecue. “That’s tough.”

“We’re finally almost done,” he shrugs. “And I’m clearly not the only one working overtime.”

You don’t say anything when he looks up at you pointedly, so he turns back to the printer, pulling a stack of paper out of one of the trays.

“I think this may be part of the problem. Someone put the wrong-sized paper in here. Or, at least, Mabel thinks it’s wrong. She’s confused.”

“Well, she can join the club,” you mutter, and he puffs out a laugh, shutting the drawer and pressing some more buttons.

“Come on, let’s try again.”

Something touches your elbow, and though it shocks through you like he electrocuted you, you have the good sense suppress any embarrassing reaction to what you quickly realize is just his hand. Instead, you let him guide you back to your desk, trying not to focus too intently on the heat of his skin on yours. 

Jungkook waits for you to login to your computer, clicking around and changing some settings once you step back and allow him free rein. Then, you can hear a distant hum coming from the copier room, and you know immediately that he’s succeeded. Dutifully, he goes to check anyway, returning to you with a stack of perfectly collated paper.

“Thank god,” you groan. “Now let me just print fifty more of those so I can start organizing these binders.”

With the crisis averted and his job done, you fully expect him to gather his pile of stuff and hustle to the elevator before you can trap him into doing anything else. Instead, Jungkook goes to pick up the additional copies from the printer for you, and he actually gets down on the floor next to you to start putting everything together. He watches you assemble one binder for reference, but then he’s easily doing the same and doubling your completion speed. 

And slowly, gradually, your nervous system calms. The two of you work like a well-oiled machine in what would be comfortable silence, if your brain wasn’t so loud. Now that you’re not actively panicking, a completely different feeling starts to seep into you—embarrassment.  You can’t believe that Jungkook actually caught you on the cusp of a breakdown, during which you looked so pitiful, he felt morally obligated to stop what he was doing and help you.

“I’m sure you have somewhere to be,” you say after a while with a grimace. He’s way too nice and you’re way too pathetic. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night—I promise you don’t have to stay with me. Now that everything’s printed and organized, most of the work’s done. I should be out of here in no time.”

“Well, I promise you didn’t ruin anything. And with two of us, you can be out of here in less time than that.” He looks up with a soft smile from where he’s hole punching a stack of paper, the muffled ka-chunk of the device punctuating his point. “I don’t mind, _____. Really.”

“But I do,” you murmur, looking away. Unable to meet his eyes. “I really appreciate your help, but I feel bad taking up so much of your time.”

“Well, don’t. I didn’t really have plans tonight anyway, and I’ve been working so much that it’s probably better that I get in some socializing time.”

“Not that I’m very good company,” you snort derisively.

There’s a pause, one long enough that you wonder if he heard you. But then he’s moving a little closer to you, tipping slightly sideways to tap his shoulder against yours. Reflexively, you turn back to him, finding his eyes kind.  

“We all have our off days, and that’s okay. But they’ll dull your shine if you let them. Don’t.” He bumps your shoulder again. “Besides, you and I have to stick together, remember? Or did you not really mean it when you told me that?”

You did tell him that, didn’t you? Months and months ago. You're surprised that he even remembers that.

There's an amused quirk to his lip, one that you can't help but feel yourself soften to, even as his focus turns back to the task at hand. And all at once, you feel yourself flooded with gratitude. You've been thankful for his help this whole time, of course, but now you almost sag with it, the relief at knowing someone is finally in your corner, the sudden sense of security and support visceral and a little overwhelming.

Before you fully realize what you're doing, it's you who leans closer, aiming to give a him a grateful kiss on the cheek. But your lips don't quite land on their intended target, because just before you succeed, Jungkook unconsciously senses your increasing proximity and reflexively turns his head back to you.

It's his lips yours coincidentally brush against, the accidental kiss timid due to his surprise and your chaste intentions. But the kiss is also soft, his lips plush and rather easily yielding to yours. 

Quickly realizing your mistake, you pull back, eyes as big as saucers. You stare at him in stunned silence and he stares back, eyes all pupil.

A horrified apology is immediately crowding the back of your throat, but right before you set it free, Jungkook's Adam's apple bobs, an errant tongue absently swiping across his lips. 

Huh. This isn’t exactly the reaction of someone repulsed by an unwanted kiss. He still hasn't said anything, but he hasn't moved away from you either. He's just watching you. Waiting. 

...Waiting?

With caution but with clear intent, you lean back in, and to your surprise, he meets you halfway, noses bumping a little before he tilts his head and your lips slot perfectly together. 

This kiss is immediately different from the last. Jungkook mindlessly drops he binder he's holding, body angling more solidly towards you so he can properly meet the rapidly rising intensity. Well, meet may be the wrong word, because he's the one whose hand quickly reaches up to cradle your chin, gentle pressure a silent request for you to tilt your head a bit more. And when you comply with the change in angle, it's him who deepens the kiss, the slow lave of his tongue coaxing your lips to part, open and wet.

You pant hot into his mouth and he breathes you in, offering no resistance when you push even closer, hands wandering across his shoulders, fingers ghosting up the back of his neck before drifting to idly toy with the hair at his nape. He hums contentedly, not unlike a purring cat, and does it again when your tongue joins his in a slow glide. 

You lose yourself in the sensation of it all, unable to notice anything beyond the heat that is rapidly building between you like fireworks ready to explode. Your head spins, swimming with endorphins and high off the smell of him. The taste.

A playful nibble of your lip unexpectedly has a rather desperate keen escaping your throat. You pause, making to pull back in your embarrassment, but the sound only seems to activate Jungkook, who follows you in your attempted retreat, mouth chasing yours in its reluctance to part. It's only when your back finally touches the floor that you realize he's slowly guided you there. You've been in a haze, too swept into the plot of the movie you've somehow found yourself in to do anything but be pulled along.  

As naturally as breathing, your find your knees have parted, and Jungkook easily slips into the space you've created for him, almost trancelike. As if he doesn't even realize he's doing it, too focused on exploring the fever of your mouth. He's leaning most of his weight on the hands he has posted on either side of your head; even still, every single millimeter of you that does touch him is sparking like live wires, euphoric goosebumps rippling across your skin. You let out a shaky breath that fogs his glasses, but even that doesn't stop him, just makes him pull back from you just enough to be able to whip them off and toss them somewhere, wholly unconcerned.

Emboldened by this, you sling a leg over his hip, and he eagerly accepts your invitation, settling on you properly. You're covered in him now, pelvises properly flush, and now that he's caged you in, Jungkook takes the opportunity to glide his lips away from yours and trail across your jawline instead. You shiver, every atom of you buzzing at his touch, and his mouth continues its trek, sucking hot down the column of your throat with just enough pressure that you know color will bloom there later. 

Your hips reflexively jump at his ministrations, your skirt riding further up your thighs, and the hard press of him against your panties has you swallowing down a moan. He freezes for a fraction of a second, but then his hips respond to the lure of yours with a more intentional roll. A contented sound rumbles in the back of his throat, tongue dipping to meander across your collarbone.

This is crazy. This is crazy. But you can't quite find it in yourself to care much as the two of you rut against each other on the office floor, your hand gliding up his back to root in the hair at his nape. 

Your hips undulate restlessly, eager to meet the crest of his wave, and Jungkook matches your intensity, catching your earlobe between his teeth. Your shared grind is measured but deliberate, and even through his pants you can feel the hard shape of him pressing right against your aching core. A particularly pointed roll has Jungkook shuddering hot into the shell of your ear, and that is what finally tamps down the last of your restraint and triggers something much more primal.

Dizzy with want, your hands scrabble between you and aim for the button of his slacks, eager to be properly introduced to what’s underneath. But to your slow horror, Jungkook freezes at the touch, motionless for a few breathless seconds before he actually starts lifting off of you and pulling back. It’s only when he’s completely sat up and is staring at you that the full weight of what you’ve just done hits you like a freight train.

Holy shit. Holy shit. 

You really were just dry humping. A coworker. And you were doing it on the premises of the place that pays your fucking bills! Making out, dry humping, and you were actively aiming to do much more if he hadn't stopped you. 

What the fuck has gotten into you? 

You scrabble upright, dizzy with the mortification rapidly seeping deep into your bones. Stupidly, you blink at him, paralyzed with embarrassment but unable to look away. A deer in headlights.

Jungkook stares right back, eyes dark and all pupil. Dazedly, you wonder if you look as fucked out as he does—there’s a smattering of red across his cheeks, and his hair has been thoroughly mussed by your own hands. A tongue dips out to swipe over kiss-swollen lips, stealing your attention away from the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

And suddenly, you’re able to kickstart into gear.

“I am so sorry,” you burst out, panic nearly choking you. “That was highly inappropriate and I seriously don’t know what came over me—”

It takes you a few moments to register that he’s moved back in, and that it’s the returned press of his lips that interrupts your babbling apology before it can properly catch its stride. You’re almost too afraid to respond in kind, as if you’ll somehow scare him away again, but the insistence in his kiss practically knocks the breath from your lungs. Patiently, he coaxes your rigid lips back pliant. And only when it’s clear you won’t try to run away does he lean back a second time, but only enough to see your eyes properly.

“No,” he murmurs, breath fanning hot over you. “That was very much appropriate.” 

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that, too shell-shocked by this turn of events and actively battling your triggered fight or flight response. “Um. Then…then why did you…”

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, as if he’s gathering himself. “I want to,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself, but then he’s looking right at you again, gaze heavy with resolve. “It’s just…do you mind if I try something first?”

That throws you for a loop. Your jaw opens then shuts again while you contemplate his question, as well as your answer. “I mean, I guess? It depends on what it is.”

That you don't instantly reject him visibly unwinds a tension in his body that you only now realize was there. A rather feral look crosses his face, immediately inciting goosebumps to ripple across your skin in anticipation. But then the intensity of his expression dims, edged with something more contemplative. Jungkook gives you a pensive nod then stands, looking around curiously. “Hey, where does that viper sit?”

You blink, bewildered. “…The who?”

“The one who’s always with you at lunch.” He locks eyes with you, tongue poking through his cheek. “You know. The one who’s on your team but still had no second thoughts about leaving you here tonight by yourself.”

Joy. He’s talking about Joy. 

The question makes you pause in suspicion, but you still hook a thumb towards the cubicle next to yours, on the other side of your shared wall. “There. Why?”

“No reason,” he says with a sly grin, holding out a hand to you. You take it without question and he easily helps you to your feet. But then before you can process it, he’s slid both hands around your waist and easily lifted you off the ground, already in route to the exact cubicle you called out. You yelp in surprise, your arms reflexively circling his neck—your legs, his middle—in your body’s scramble for balance. But Jungkook’s hold on you is secure, grip moving down to the back of your thighs instead, and now that your chests are once again flush, you can actually feel his chuckle. His amusement provokes yours, and you can’t help but giggle as he carries you over to Joy’s cube as easily as if you weigh nothing.

Clearly, his exercise routine is working out for him.

After using a hand to sweep some objects out of the way, Jungkook carefully sets you down on Joy’s desk, right next to her monitor. Your mirth only grows at the feeling of whatever printouts she left for later review crinkling under your weight, at the sight of displaced pens rolling off the edge and disappearing to the ether that is the floor.

Jungkook has set you down, but he doesn’t pull away, just leans down and recaptures your eager lips. He’s tall enough that he’s kind of hunching over to kiss you, neck really craned, but he doesn’t seem to care much about that, kissing you with the same ferocity as moments before, when the two of you were entangled on the carpet. And you can’t help but match his fervor, hands reaching to guide his slim hips even closer, into the widening gap you naturally create for him between your legs. 

Time constricts and expands, an endless and meaningless concept. Because all that matters now is the tongue he slips past your lips to slide against yours, slowly, like he’s savoring the taste of you. All that matters is how fucking great he smells—like clean laundry and smoke and warm skin speckled with sweat—something you’ve always caught whiffs of, but now completely surrounds you, invading all your senses and sending your lust into overdrive. 

“Is this what you wanted to try?” you pant hotly when your lips finally separate for a moment in your quest for air. “Defiling Joy’s desk?”

He’s leaning his forehead against yours while he also attempts to catch his breath, and he’s so close that it would be hard for you to miss his amused flash of teeth. “Sort of. I’d like to defile it more thoroughly, though. Starting with this.” 

Jungkook leans in for one last kiss, one that starts at your mouth, moves to your neck, and to your surprise, continues down the line of your body. Over your collarbone, careful hands popping open a few buttons of your blouse so he can nestle more surely into the curve of your breasts, warm lips skating across eager skin. For a few moments, he actually nuzzles his face into your middle, a gesture you find rather sweet before he incites a shiver through your body by licking against your clothed navel. And before you can fully realize what’s happening, he’s slipped to his knees.

You look down at him in surprise, body still slotted between your legs, but this time more eye-level with the secret, needy part of you that has been thrumming excitedly with every beat of your heart. “What are you…”

“You’re always doing everything for everyone else,” comes his murmured reply. “Will you allow me to do something for you?”

Your brain is still so hazy from the spell of his mouth that it takes you a moment to recognize what’s happening. What he’s asking for. But when his large palms are hot against the naked skin of your thighs, gentle pressure urging them to part even more, it all hits you like a truck. Your eyes dart around, paranoid. “Jungkook,” you hiss. “…Here?”

“They’re too cheap to put cameras anywhere other than the lobby.” He turns his head, lips pressing reassurance into the side of your knee. “And no one’s here.” His reminder as gentle as the kisses he continues to adorn you with. “Just you.” Kiss. “And me.”

He’s right, you know. No one else is here to witness the series of bad decisions you’ve just made—to witness the ones you’re still seriously considering. 

Still, you hesitate.

Jungkook’s staring intently at you, doe-eyed and cherry-lipped and deceptively innocent despite what he’s requesting of you. “Please?” he asks again, oh-so-sweetly. Reverently prostrating before your altar, praying for the blessing of an ambivalent goddess. You. “I just…I really want to. Ever since that day, I can’t stop thinking about it and I—please?”

Your brows furrow as you try to make sense of what he’s saying, still scrambling to keep up with this current turn of events. What day? Your mind whirrs, jumping around before finally settling on an embarrassing memory you’ve willed yourself to forget. 

Lunch, where Wendy somehow got you to admit you’ve never gotten head, and Jungkook, purportedly oblivious, too busy on his phone to ever pay your table any attention. 

…Except from what he’s saying right now, he had heard every word. Heard, and filed it away for safekeeping, only revealing to you now, when he can possibly do something about it.

Absently, your tongue dips out to swipe across your lips, and Jungkook’s attention visibly strays towards the action, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your thighs and sending electricity straight to your core. God, do you want to say yes. Even though you’ve never done this before, your inexperience is not at all the reason for your reluctance. It’s the optics. You’re at work.

Your head tilts as you try to accurately take stock of the situation. You’re at work. But technically, you should have clocked out hours ago. Technically, this job has been stealing a lot of time that should have been yours to choose what to do with. Case in point—you’re the only person on your team still within a five-mile radius of this godforsaken building. Because everyone else deserted you without a second thought, designating you to be the one who struggles to print presentations for a meeting that has been on the calendar for literal months.

But. 

While it’s easy to assume they forced this fate upon you, Fate is not one easily compelled to do another’s bidding. And, trapped in the gaze of the sweet man still patiently awaiting permission to ruin you, you can’t help but wonder if this has been Her plan all along. 

For months you’ve been doing everything for everyone else, so unhappy and stressed that each day in this place only wound you tighter and tighter. So…what if you finally just let yourself snap? Did what you wanted for once? Stopped following the rules that nobody else ever seemed to and just let go? 

You exhale. Fuck it.

“Okay.”

Jungkook grins, boyishly innocuous at first, but rapidly morphing into something much more devilish as you watch. He turns to kiss your knee again, and you startle a little at the action, newly on edge. “Don’t be nervous,” he says, still holding your gaze. Making sure you can see his resolve. “I got you.” 

“Okay,” you say again, but that’s easier said than done, especially when he takes the opportunity to gently push your knees even further apart. Naturally, your skirt rides further up, and you can’t help the apprehension that washes over you at your increasing lack of modesty. Still, you hold true to your word, aggressively tamping down the urge to scramble off the desk and pretend this all never happened. But though you brace yourself for what comes next…

Jungkook doesn’t move.

Long moments pass before you can’t help but say something. “Are you just gonna look?” Because that’s all he seems to be doing, laser-focused on the juncture of your thighs.

He visibly stirs at the sound of your voice, but still doesn’t do much more than tsk at you. “Don’t rush me,” comes his light reprimand, eyes still locked on what you’re sure at this point is a growing dark spot on your panties. “I don’t half-ass things and I definitely won’t rush this. No one’s here, so just relax and enjoy the ride.”

Your jittery nerves have you reflexively mouthy, but your retort swiftly dies on your tongue when his hand finally moves further up your skirt—further inward—and two fingers pointedly press right against that dark spot and glide over your clothed lips. You gasp, fighting against the urge to snap your legs shut when he slowly circles your clit and sends sparks dancing down your legs. 

“Better?” he murmurs.

“Much,” you squeak.

“Good,” he says, eyebrows knitted in thought as he circles and circles. Your thighs twitch, and he leans forward like he can’t help himself, nose pressing solidly against you with a long, audible inhale.

A fascinated oh falls from your lips, heartbeat accelerating excitedly in your ears, but Jungkook only responds by nestling further against your pussy, tracing the length of your lips with a slow, wet swipe of his tongue through the fabric. He breathes hot against your clit and you inadvertently buck at the stimulation, only inciting the wicked curl of his lips. He looks up at you darkly through the curtain of his bangs, and something unexpected and primal simmers beneath your skin.

“Can I have these?” he asks huskily, lightly snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin. 

You clear your throat, suddenly wishing you had the foresight to put on something more interesting today than your unassuming cotton undies. “Have as in you won’t give them back?”

He lets out an amused puff of air, tilts his head. “I haven’t decided yet.”

You nod your assent. You’re now impossibly invested in where he plans to take this, and it’s not like you don’t have more pairs at home. “Knock yourself out.”

Immediately, his hands are up your skirt. They’re big, but they’re also gentle, caressing your thighs and even taking a slight detour to the meat of your ass before continuing their mission to the band of your underwear. When he starts to pull, you help him, shifting your weight so he can slip the fabric over your hips and down your legs.

Jungkook’s Adam’s apple dips when his eyes are finally able to feast on you without a barrier. “So fucking hot,” he mutters, almost to himself, and then without further warning, his mouth seals around your sex.

You whimper in surprise, not at all used to the sensation of someone kissing you there. And kiss you he does, carefully at first, judging your reaction. But when you do nothing but grip the edge of the desk, biting your lip in an attempt to stifle the rather desperate sounds crawling up your throat, he swiftly devolves into kissing you with the same passion as he had the lips on your face. His tongue laps at you with sure, even strokes, dragging across the seam of you and then through it, making sure to slide along your clit on every upstroke. 

Your breath quickens, jaw falling slack. You weren’t sure what you imagined oral sex to be like before this, but you never expected how easily your body submits to his ministrations. Almost without you realizing it, your thighs part even more, hips automatically canting down to meet his eager mouth. A hand reaches for him, fingers winding through his hair and rooting there, and Jungkook hums in approval, his own hands wrapping securely around your thighs, your ass. His fingers sinking into the yielding softness of you, gently holding you steady against his face while you start to gyrate and moan.

God, does he look good down there. He’s always looked good, even before you knew what he was hiding behind those shy smiles and nerdy glasses, but something about the sight of him, jaw working as he sucks on you, lashes fluttering in pleasure in his quest to please you—

Without warning, he detaches with an audible pop, and a disgruntled sound reflexively leaves you. Breathless, you start to ask him why he stopped, but the words die on your tongue when you realize he’s staring at you again. That he pulled back for a moment just so he can get a good look at the mess he’s making of you. So he can properly see how your pussy aches and drools for him.

“Good?” he asks, voice deep and thick.

“So fucking good,” you sigh. What you know he wants to hear, but also 1000% the truth. You’re starting to understand what Wendy has been blathering about, but is it always like this? Or is it Jungkook in particular who is making you so unbelievably aroused? Is your rapidly snowballing crush on him that strong, or does pussy eating simply rank high on his skillset?

As if he can hear your thoughts, Jungkook moves to slip a finger into you, and you can’t help but moan when he breaches you, the digit sliding in so easily that he quickly adds another, thumb pressing surely into your clit as he starts a slow drag in and out. 

“Shit,” you shudder, eyes rolling back into your head. Hips sliding further off the desk, reflexively seeking the delicious stimulation. One of your hands scrabbles across the desk, unconsciously trying to root you, and you’re much too preoccupied with how good he’s making you feel to notice when you accidentally knock over a mug full of pens. A stapler clanks to the ground. “Fuck.” 

“Look, baby,” he breathes, moaning along with you when the pet name immediately makes your pussy flutter. “Look.”

At his encouragement, you do. You watch the flex of his tattooed arm as his fingers continue to disappear within you, a lewd squelch coinciding with his movements. You watch as he adds another finger, the additional stretch immediately noticeable but even more delicious. You watch him watch you, eyes all pupil, lips swollen and slick with your desire.

“More,” you whine, frenzied and greedy. And Jungkook immediately heeds your call, leaning back in. He sucks on your clit with three fingers sunk in you, expertly crooked towards your pelvic bone, and you jolt, accidentally knocking something else off the desk. Neither of you pays the resulting clattering any attention, too wrapped up in the way you writhe at his ministrations. He hums in approval, the vibrations only intensifying your ecstasy. He flattens his tongue as your hips desperately circle, letting you control the stimulation. And when it’s clear you still need more, he changes tactics and rapidly laps at you instead, as if you’re a melting ice cream cone, while he beckons, beckons. 

Your blood is volcanic, hot pressure bubbling beneath the prison of your skin, building and building within your core. The higher he takes you, the more the grip you have on his hair unintentionally tightens, but that only seems to urge him on, locking eyes with you as the thrust of his fingers turns harder and more calculated. Giving you no other choice but to finally erupt.    

You cum with a loud groan, gasping through it while your cunt rhythmically clamps down on his digits, hard. Jungkook talks you through it, murmuring encouraging words your buzzing brain has trouble deciphering because his hand still doesn’t stop, pounding right into your g-spot and making your eyes cross and toes curl with the force of it. And when you finally can’t take anymore, jerking with oversensitivity, you grab him by the wrist in a wordless plea for mercy.

And Jungkook grants it. You can tell that he wants to play with you more—wants to guide you over and over to the precipice just see the look on your face when he shoves you off—but ever the gentleman, he reins in his enthusiasm and obediently slips his fingers out of you. He takes a few seconds to admire his handiwork, eyes shining in reverence as he marvels in the dripping, throbbing, panting aftermath that is you.

“Wow,” you say, still dizzy with endorphins. Never in a million years did you think it would feel like that.

“Yeah,” he agrees, voice thick. “Wow.” He lifts his hand, remnants of you visibly slicking his fingers and webbing between the digits, and without a second thought, sticks them in his mouth and sucks. The resulting slurping of his errant tongue is nothing short of obscene, but your cunt flutters again anyway, interest clear despite being thoroughly satisfied only moments before. And when line of your essence starts to drip down your thigh, Jungkook makes sure to lean in and catch it with his tongue.

You shiver with the feeling of him on you again, mouth hot and wet, thighs still trembling. He’s taking his time, tongue dragging a slow path back up to the source, determined to feast upon the rewards of his efforts. But you can’t take it anymore. God, he’s so hot. He’s so fucking hot and you want him so fucking bad.

You need him. Biblically. 

Near delirious, you reach for him, hands scrabbling across his shoulders, fingers trailing the back of his neck and guiding him to stand. Arms circling his waist and pulling him closer to you—close, close—Jungkook easily slotting into spread of your thighs.

He follows your unspoken commands easily and without question, looking down at you with a rather pleased smile that crinkles his eyes in the corners. Determined to steal the breath from his lungs, just as he just did to you, you lean in to lick that smile pliant and open. There’s a curious taste on his tongue that it doesn’t take long to deduce is you, and that’s only even more of an aphrodisiac, revving you up further. 

Your hands continue to roam, sliding down a little to grope his backside, startling a laugh out of him. But when your fingers tease the waistband of his slacks, his delight visibly shutters away into something else entirely.

“You don’t have to do that,” he breathes, even as he reflexively bucks into the hand you’re using to palm him over his pants. “This was about you.”

“Then let it be about me,” you counter, a mischievous smile curling your lips. Even through his pants you can tell he's hard. That he wants this just as badly as you do.  Still, when he gasps out a wait, you obediently stop your ministrations and move to take your hand back. 

He doesn't let you get far, lacing his fingers through yours and visibly considering his next words for a few moments before settling on, “What do you need?” 

It’s a simple enough question, but you can't help but be immediately reminded of him saying these exact words to you, a little over an hour ago. Now, however, they sit heavy on his tongue, heady and syrupy in hushed invitations. 

The revelation hits you all at once, heart pounding excitedly in your ears.

You need only ask. You’ve only ever needed to ask.

And since all caution was thrown to the wind the moment you agreed to let him suck your soul out through your pussy...

“You said you’ve been thinking about me? Well, I’ve been thinking about you too. For a while, even though I’ve been trying not to.” 

You’ve had his attention this whole time, but the way Jungkook's regarding you now, now that you’ve said that? He's hanging onto every word, so hyper-focused that it would unnerve you if this wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. 

“So…” Adrenaline has your fingers restless against his, but you still dive headfirst. “What I need is for you to fuck me and finish what you started.”

A beat. One where he holds your gaze, the space between you so electrified that you’re surprised you don’t see sparks. But then he’s on you again, mouth meeting yours in a frenzied clash of lips and teeth, and this time he doesn’t stop you when your hands scrabble for his fly.

Jungkook wastes no time, smoothing his hands up your legs and pushing your skirt out of the way. He lets out a shuddered breath when you stroke him through his underwear, when you reach down the waistband and grip him properly.

He’s warm and thick in your hand, and the thought of him finally in your guts damn near has you vibrating. Just like you thought before, he’s already nice and hard, but you still pump him a few times just to revel in the proof of what you’ve done to him. Velvet over stone.

And despite having all the time in the world when the foreplay is for you, Jungkook doesn’t seem to have any patience for himself. You’re only able to enjoy the weight of him in your grip for a few passes before he’s surging into action. Strategically, he grabs you by the knees and lifts, maneuvering your legs into the crooks of his elbows. The move opens you up to him further and forces you more horizontal, leaning back on your forearms, nearly pressed against the cubicle wall.  

The way he ate you out moments before ensured you’d be primed for him, your pussy soft and slick and just begging to be filled. When he finally lines himself up and begins the slow press in, your jaw immediately falls open, tongue going lax at the intense pleasure. “Oh my god,” you manage to whine, eyes threatening to roll shut.

The unhurried way he’s sinking into you is likely in effort not to unintentionally hurt you. Because after everything else, why not add another thing to the ever growing list of surprises you’re learning about your unassuming coworker—not only has he been tatted and muscular this whole time, but his dick is also fucking huge. Without even realizing it, you’ve stopped breathing, the pressure of him nudging your walls apart too much stimulation for your body to continue even subconscious functioning. 

As if he can tell your brain is actively short-circuiting, Jungkook’s hands circle your thighs, thumbs kneading the flesh in mild distraction for when he finally bottoms out. It’s only now that you can properly notice the effect you’re having on him—hair starting to stick to his forehead from perspiration, teeth grit as he struggles to stay still for you.  But you don’t want him to be still.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, wiggling in your impatience and making him suck in a breath. “Please. Give it to me.”

The resulting roll of his hips has him swearing and you seeing stars. “Fuck. You can have whatever you want,” he says, already making good on his promise with a slow grid. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

It’s good, so good, especially because Jungkook uses his grip on your thighs as leverage to ramp up his thrusts, easily maneuvering you over his cock in a way that has your toes curling. By the time he’s really fucking you—jaw set, brows furrowed in concentration—you’re crosseyed and mewling incoherently. You should be embarrassed by the sounds he’s pounding out of you, but you’re so focused on the overwhelming pleasure that you can’t find it in yourself to care very much. 

Chasing the high you already feel him leading you towards, you lift one of your legs to change the angle, and he catches on immediately, helping guide your ankle to hook over his shoulder with a distracted kiss against the bone. And it’s deeper this way, the angle ensuring he brushes against your spongy nerves with every stroke, only making you spiral faster. 

He notices, of course. Notices how quickly he’s taking you to your end and revels in it, sliding a hand inward and thumbing your clit, fast and hard.

You jolt at the extra stimulation, gasping and overwhelmed. “Oh my goddd…”  

“Come on,” he croons, his dulcet tone at odds with the wickedness of his hand. His dick. “Don’t you want to cum for me?”

“I…” you choke out, struggling to form any sort of coherent thought as you feel everything get tighter. “I…”

You see his lips moving as he presumably says something else. But you can’t understand anything other than your own moaning when your pussy finally locks down. This orgasm is somehow more intense than the last one, your thighs rippling with the force of it, your hands desperately scrabbling over the desk in an effort to find something to ground you. 

And Jungkook fucks you through it, still talking, and it’s only when the whooshing in your ears starts to subside that you can finally decipher what he’s saying in between his own moaning. “There you go. Being so good for me. So good.”

Your only reply is your gasping breath as your orgasm slowly fades, replaced with oversensitivity. But you don’t want him to stop. You don’t want this to stop, reveling in the feel of him on you, in you. And Jungkook doesn’t, instead sliding your leg off his shoulder so he can grab you by the waist with both hands and properly yank you forward, moving you over his cock to his liking. 

The desk creaks with your effort, a rhythmic cacophony with the harsh smacking of his balls against your ass. You mewl, needing him closer still, and curl your legs around his hips, locking your ankles. He’s now trapped against you, but he groans like that’s exactly what he wanted, both hands gliding up the length of your body to grasp the back of your neck instead, giving him even better leverage to plunge into you, deep, deep. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, licks into your panting mouth. 

At this point, his thrusts are turning manic, but you’re meeting every one of them, deliriously following him in his descent into madness. But when he catches your lower lip with his teeth, your breath hollows, and then, quicker than you can register it’s happening, you cum again, spasming around him with a long, high-pitched whine.

Jungkook lets you ride it out, but this time, his thrusts slow while you thrash. And it’s not until your soul finally floats back into your body that you realize he’s already pulled out of you and is bucking into his own fist instead.  

You almost took him over the edge with you, you realize. Though he clearly has incredible stamina, you have finally brought him to his limit, and everything inside you glows at the knowledge that he’s here, roughly pumping himself, moans falling freely from his lips because of you. 

Entranced, you reach for him, delighting in the whimper he lets out when your fingers wrap around his base. His own hand immediately falls to grip the edge of the desk instead, and you glide your fist up, finding his cock sticky with your juices. Jungkook just rests his head in the crook of your neck and lets you jack him off, whining through it when you match his previously punishing pace. And it doesn’t take long before he finally, finally splashes hot over your hand. Against your thigh. 

Your hand slows, twisting your wrist and milking him for every drop. Intent on extending his pleasure, just like he made sure to do for you. And you only stop when he flinches away from your touch, twitchy and shivering as he leans against you. 

Reluctantly, you let go. The two of you share the same balmy breath, struggling to calm your racing hearts. And when Jungkook finally backs away from you, unhurried in the way he gathers himself back into his slacks, there is a wildly satisfied grin on his face.

You’re satisfied too, though you try to have some sense of propriety and use a tissue from the box next to Joy’s monitor to wipe off the sticky remains of his pleasure. Throwing away the evidence, you hop off the desk, locating your long-discarded panties and slipping them back on, smoothing down your skirt.

“So,” you tease lightly. Your head swims a little with the knowledge of what you just did, but you’re surprised to realize you feel zero guilt about it. “Is your plan to stick it to everyone who’s wronged me? If so, we should do it on Mabel next. That’ll show her.”

Jungkook laughs, a giddy, giggly thing. He’s now doing his best to pick up and replace everything that fell from Joy’s desk during your romp. “Nah, I could never disrespect her like that. That ol’ girl’s been such a great wingman these past few months.”

That’s a rather curious statement to make. You frown a little, shoot him an inquisitive sound.

“You always call me when Mabel’s not working,” he shrugs. “So when I wanted to see you, she was nice enough help.” 

You can’t help it—a smile creeps across your face, equally bashful and flattered. He wanted to see you! For months, by his open admission. “And the printer knew exactly when you wanted to see me?" you joke. “Sounds like dark magic to me.”

Jungkook’s valiantly trying to straighten and smooth out some of the papers the two of you disturbed. “Deleted some print jobs,” he replies offhandedly, clearly distracted by the task at hand. 

Record scratch. 

There’s an extended silence as your brain shuffles through different iterations of his sentence, trying to decipher exactly he meant by that. Because there's no way he just admitted to what you think he just did. “Did…did you just say you've been deleting my print jobs?” you ask incredulously. Because there’s no way.

There’s no way, yet at your words, Jungkook immediately stiffens. His lips part, but he doesn't defend himself. Doesn't say anything at all—just drops the pen he’s holding and stares at you with wide eyes.

Holy shit. Holy shit. He really has been doing it! He obviously hadn't meant to tell you that, but the relaxation of afterglow has clearly removed the filter between his brain and his mouth. 

The weight of his revelation hits you, seemingly happenstance events connecting in your mind and starting to fall into place. All the hassle and irritation that stupid printer has been giving you, and it turns out Mabel has been working just fine?! 

“Please don't be mad,” he pleads, finally finding his voice.  

“Are you seriously saying that all this time—”   

“No! No, I only did it a few times,” he sheepishly rushes to correct you. “And I promise, I haven’t done it in weeks.”

“Seriously?” 

“I just...wanted an excuse to talk to you!”

“Jungkook, you literally talk to me all the time!”

“About work! Not—” he averts his eyes, lets out an irritated breath. “It’s just. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out.”

You blink, gaping slightly as your whirring mind tries to process what he’s just told you. “Ask me…out?” 

“I didn’t mean to do…all this.” He waves a hand over the mess the two of you are still cleaning up, clearly embarrassed. “I mean, at least not before buying you dinner first.”

Moments pass as you stare at him in stunned, disbelieving silence. Then, like a volcano erupting, laughter bursts from you, loud and sudden. Because what the fuck? You can’t believe all of this is actually happening to you. In real life. “You jackass,” you cackle. “Do you have any idea how much grief that printer has been giving me? I’m over here stressed and you’ve been gaslighting me and doing it on purpose?”

“Just a few times,” he repeats, visibly confused by the juxtaposition of the mirth in your voice and the actual words you’re saying. 

“And that doesn’t change the fact that you’re still a jackass,” you laugh. “But…” You clear your throat, suddenly somehow shy, despite everything that has occurred and been said. “…I suppose you can still take me out to dinner.”  

“Yeah?” His lips stretch into a slow, hopeful smile.

“Yeah. Now, if you want. I think we’re pretty much done here.” You smile back, quickly taking stock of the binders still scattered across the floor. Most of them are completed, but whatever else you need to do can be done tomorrow morning. “Besides, I seem to have worked up an appetite.” 

Jungkook looks nothing short of smug, but you suppose you can’t fault him that. “Well then,” he practically purrs, “Let’s hurry up and feed you.” 

Moving in comfortable silence, the two of you finish putting everything you’ve disturbed back in their original spots, gathering the last of the binders and stacking them neatly on your desk. You reach for your purse while Jungkook goes to collect his hastily discarded belongings.

“So,” you start. “Where are you taking me? It’s kind of late.” This late on a weeknight, kitchens would be shutting down soon.

He pauses in sliding his leather jacket back on, frowning a little as he realizes you’re right. “Shit,” he mutters. “I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“You can,” you say with an unbothered wave of your hand. “That can be next time. Let’s just find something quick now.”

“So you’re saying I get a second date?” he grins.

Oh. That is what you just implied, isn’t it? You would be embarrassed by how forward you were being if Jungkook wasn’t visibly delighted by it. Wow, he really does like you. And since the feeling is mutual, you just look away coyly and say, “If you play your cards right.”

Jungkook hoists his backpack over a shoulder, and it’s only then that you see what else he happened to be carrying in his hands when he dropped everything for you. A helmet.

You gesture towards the object with a curious incline of your head. “What’s that for?”

“My bike,” comes his easy answer, but that’s not the kind of helmet that one wears for bicycle rides. No, this one is made for something much faster. 

Now that you think about it, you’ve seen the motorcycle in the parking lot before—you’ve just never really given it a second thought. And now you can’t stop thinking about it, because the unassuming vehicle you’ve often passed on your way into the building has been Jungkook’s the whole time. Your mind is blown. How many more times is he going to surprise you tonight?  

“…Do you always drive a motorcycle?” you ask incredulously.

“Depends on the day,” he shrugs with grin. “Sometimes I take the bus, but I like to ride my bike when the weather’s nice.” His eyes are bright with pride, visibly happy to have impressed you. 

Your mouth opens and closes, thoughts racing so fast your tongue struggles to hold onto any of them. Before you realize you’re doing it, you blurt, “Alright. Are you even real?”

Jungkook blinks owlishly at you, clearly not expecting that question. “What?” 

“I thought I’ve known you for months. But was any of that real?” you repeat. “Hell, do you even need glasses?”

“Of course,” he rushes to say. “It’s all me. I can just be a little shy, is all.” Wow, he actually said shy with a straight face, as if he didn’t just finish ravaging you over multiple surfaces. “And I like to be professional, so this place doesn’t get to have all facets of me. I know you can relate.”

You can. Your constant struggle to not complain? To be professional and work hard and hope you’ll be rewarded for your efforts? Obviously that’s a reason why the two of you ended up in this situation in the first place.

He ducks his head a little, tapping the glasses he picked up off the floor in petition for their validity. “And these really are prescription. I mean, I can mostly see without them, but since I stare at computer screens all day, it’s less strain on my eyes.”

“Oh,” you say quietly, feeling silly to have even asked. But who knew the quiet IT guy who kept mostly to himself was also this? Buff and tatted with a wicked tongue that you’re now intimately acquainted with. 

Shyly, he holds his helmet out to you. He hesitates before speaking again, almost like he’s afraid of spooking you. “Wanna go for a ride?” And from the way color lightly blooms across his cheeks, you get the sense that he’s offering you more than just protective gear.

You take it without second thought.

The next day you and Jungkook get off the elevator together, a respectable distance between you, but arms still brushing too often to be casual. When you come to the hallway that will force you in separate directions, you pause.

“Have a good day,” you say. Jungkook grins, the delighted brightness of it baring too much teeth and crinkling his eyes in the corners.

“You too,” he winks. “Let me know if Mabel gives you any more issues.”

You snort at his brazenness, biting down a smile as you head to your cubicle. Your whole body buzzes, glowing from inside out.

You’re technically right on time, but you’ve definitely arrived later than usual, and that’s obvious when you head over to your department and find Joy already there waiting for you. She frowns as you approach, no doubt clocking your empty hands and wondering how she’s going to make it through the morning without her expected syrupy caffeine fix. 

To her credit, she doesn’t call you out on it, but you don’t really care if she does. You’re done playing errand boy. From now on, everyone else will have to stop before work and get their own shit, if they want it so bad.

Because it’s all so clear to you now. You’re here, and you’re going to do your best, but you’re not going to let this place wear you down to jaded slivers. You’re going to work hard and learn all that you can, but you refuse to be anyone’s lapdog. 

They will respect you. And your value will be recognized and rewarded—or you’ll simply find somewhere else where it will. 

Joy must sense your new resolve, because she simply hovers by your desk and chirps, “Good morning.”

“Morning.” 

“Did you have a good night?”

Your lips quirk. “You could say that. What about you?”

“Eh, it was okay,” she sighs. “Met a guy for dinner, but I don’t think that’s going anywhere.” 

So while you were stuck here last night, having a grade-A meltdown, she was on a date. That tracks.

Joy chatters on while you put your things away, not seeming to notice or care that you’re not particularly interested in what she’s saying. And while this would normally irritate the living shit out of you, today, it doesn’t. 

Today, your eyes can’t help but glaze over as your mind drifts back to how your night went. Today, you just hum agreeably until she gets bored with you and decides to go back to her own cubicle.

And when you hear her ask over the wall if you’ve seen her stapler, you just smile and smile.   

⇢ my masterlist

[jjungkkook]

(cr. movewithsope)

[kyotorchidea]

OH MY GOD-

[tenisperfection]

Yes your blorbo is tortured and pathetic and slutty and pretty and suffers more than jesus and all that but never forget that your blorbo is, first and foremost, a loser.

[jung-koook]

“gotcha, you little rascal”

“you look at the sky a lot..”

“I caught you”

260626 - jungkook’s instagram stories (3)

[ttabacco]

One More (and then I'll listen) | J.JK

↳ summary: ten years of platonic safety, completely incinerated over cold kitchen marble. a frantic morning-after argument about a drunken confession turns into a dangerous game of chicken. you think you're being the smart one, desperately trying to protect a decade-long friendship from total wreckage—until a single, devastating kiss proves that neither of you can afford to stay just friends anymore.

↳ friends to lovers!au;

↳ pairing: idol!jeongguk x f!reader

↳ warnings: shameless smut, heavy praise and unprotected oral. features a completely undone, whiny, and pathetically submissive jeongguk who is brought entirely to his knees, begging for a taste before fucking you through his own overstimulation. brace yourselves........ :)

↳ word count: 13.1 k

a/n: this is actually my first ever request. here is the the original ask! the person who requested didn't reply anymore, so i took it upon myself to just run with it—yay for creative freedom and what not. hopefully i delivered question mark?

i’m a bit anxious about this ngl since it is a bit out of my comfort area so please lmk your thoughts :')

we absolutely love subkoo propaganda in this house. though i must admit, i could've made him even more sub, but baby steps am i right?

—

ONE SHOT

STARRING JEONGGUK

You’re very good at making bad decisions.

You and Jeongguk have been friends for a very long time. Platonic friends, of course. The kind of bond forged in the messy, unfiltered trenches of youth long before the rest of the world decided he belonged to them.

You remember every single time he’s been there for you, steady as an anchor. He was the one who sat on the kitchen counter at three in the morning, quietly listening to you cry over a brutal breakup, holding the pint of melting ice cream while you ranted. He was the one who dragged his exhausted body out of bed in the dead of winter just to jump-start your dead car battery, completely uncomplaining as his hands turned bright red in the freezing air. When you failed that massive university exam, he didn't offer empty platitudes; he just showed up at your door with a bag of cheap convenience store snacks and your favorite video game, sitting in silence with you until the heavy cloud in your chest lifted.

And you’ve been there for him just as fiercely. You were the one who held his hair back in a cramped, dimly lit bathroom after he drank way too much at a party, rubbing his back while he muttered pathetic apologies. You were the one who helped him pack up his entire life into mismatched cardboard boxes when he finally left his small hometown, taping the edges shut while he nervously paced the room. You even let him experiment on you with a box of cheap, questionable hair dye on a random Tuesday, resulting in a green-stained forehead and a frantic midnight run to a 24-hour pharmacy, laughing so hard your stomachs ached in the fluorescent aisles.

However, you didn't take into account that he would get famous at some point. Obviously, he had all the cards to do so, you weren't blind.

He’s attractive. He’s sweet. He has a good heart that bleeds through everything he touches.

And then there are the physical realities you've forced yourself to ignore for years. He has impeccable, impeccable hands—veiny, strong, and large enough to completely swallow yours. He has a fiercely toned body, hardened by years of relentless dance practice and gym sessions, a sharp contrast to the gentle soul inside him. And, of course, those sweet, round eyes you melt for every single time he looks up at you, completely disarming whatever defenses you try to build.

So when he texted you saying he was back home for a little while before heading out on the massive world tour again, of course you said yes.

Why would you not? He was your best friend.

Except you completely forgot that during his brief stints of downtime, Jeongguk had a tendency to pick up hyper-fixated new hobbies. Which is exactly how you found yourself standing in the doorway of his private garage, completely frozen.

He was entirely underneath the chassis of a sleek, vintage car, legs sprawling out across the concrete floor. He was straining against a stubborn bolt, and the physical effort caused his dark t-shirt to ride up drastically, exposing a wide strip of his lower abdomen.

Your eyes trapped themselves right there, staring directly at his happy trail. It was a sharp, dark line of hair cutting perfectly across his toned stomach, disappearing straight into the low waistband of his grey sweatpants.

Avert your gaze? Maybe you should. You absolutely had to.

Instead, a stray, dangerous thought crossed your mind, wondering exactly where that trail led and if it really was a happy place. You would certainly guess so, taking into account the sheer volume of women who willingly flung themselves at him daily on global television.

Jeongguk, meanwhile, was acutely aware of the shift in the room's atmosphere the second you walked in. From his vantage point beneath the metal frame, he heard your footsteps halt. He could feel the phantom heat of your eyes burning into his exposed skin. His heart did a violent flip in his chest, his fingers tightening around his wrench. He purposely stayed still for a beat longer than necessary, his breath hitching, secretly thrilled by the weight of your undivided attention.

To break the suffocating silence, you finally spoke, semi-yelling over the clinking of his tools, "Yo! Koo, what the fuck are you doing?"

Hearing your voice, Jeongguk finally kicked against the floor, sliding himself out from under the car on his mechanic's creeper.

When he fully emerged, the sight of him made your throat go completely dry. He had grease smudged across his jaw, a dirty shirt clinging to his frame, and a sweaty forehead. A few moist, dark hair strands were sticking directly to his skin, and the tiny silver hoop of his lip piercing glinted sharply in the garage lighting.

You gulped. Hard. Maybe it was just because you hadn't seen him in a while, or maybe it was because the platonic shield you usually wore was rapidly cracking to pieces.

Jeongguk blinked up at you, tracking the slight bob of your throat as you swallowed. A quiet wave of satisfaction washed over him, melting his internal nerves into something warm and soft. He let his head fall back slightly, looking up at you through his lashes with the sweetest, most innocent smile he could muster.

"Hi," he replied softly, his voice a low, raspy rumble that did absolutely nothing to help your racing pulse.

He laughed, a bright, breathless sound, and stepped toward you with his arms wide open. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around you after being separated by a massive ocean for months, but you immediately took a sharp step back, hands raised in a defensive barrier.

"Don't even think about it," you warned, eyeing the black grease smudged across his arms. "I am not getting engine oil all over my clothes."

Jeongguk paused, his arms still half-extended, his lips pouting into a familiar, dramatic frown. "So?" he asked, tilting his head with an entitled little whine. "It's just a shirt. I haven't seen you in forever."

Before you could reiterate that you actually liked your outfit, he reached down, gripped the hem of his dark t-shirt, and pulled it over his head in one fluid, practiced motion. Your breath caught awkwardly in your throat. Now, the toned lines of his chest and abdomen were fully on display, glistening with a light sheen of sweat under the garage lights. He didn't even seem to notice your sudden internal panic as he casually crumpled the expensive fabric into a ball, using it as a makeshift rag to roughly wipe the grease off his hands.

Tossing the ruined shirt onto a nearby tool stool, he stepped right back into your space. "Better?" he murmured, a cheeky, triumphant grin spreading across his face before he locked his bare, warm arms securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You let out a defeated sigh, but you didn't pull away. You hugged him back, burying your face against the warm crook of his shoulder, the familiar, comforting scent of him cutting right through the sharp smell of gasoline and metal.

If you were being 100% honest with yourself, you did have a crush on him. You had been harboring a crush on him for a very long time.

You just never vocalized it. To you, it was always safer to remain a constant, unshakeable variable in his chaotic life rather than risk ruining something so irreplaceable. All of his past relationships had eventually crashed and burned, a pattern that only grew worse once global fame started violently colliding with his love life and relentless schedules. You had absolutely no intention of losing Jeongguk to a stupid, juvenile crush you’d developed nearly ten years ago—all because he’d sweetly given you his last cherry popsicle on a scorching summer afternoon.

Jeongguk squeezed you a little tighter before finally releasing you, though his hands lingered on your arms for a beat too long. "I want to throw a party tonight," he announced, his round eyes shining with genuine excitement as he swiped a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "Just like old times. I want to actually have fun without a million eyes on me."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "Oh? Tell me about it. Who are we inviting?"

"Only old friends," he said instantly, his tone turning protective. "Nobody new. Nobody with a hidden motive or a vendetta. Just the people who knew me before... all of this."

You smirked, a teasing glint in your eyes as you nudged his bare shoulder. "What, so you didn't bring any international flings home with you in first class?"

Jeongguk let out a self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "No way. I'm going girl-sober for a while. Women completely fuck up my senses."

He wasn't lying, and you knew it. Jeongguk was a hopeless, unapologetic serial romantic. He was a boy who loved with his entire soul, completely incapable of doing anything casual even if his life depended on it. It was his ultimate Achilles' heel. He wore his heart so openly on his sleeve, entirely defenseless, and people always seemed to have other, more transactional plans for it.

"Girl-sober, huh?" you echoed, trying to ignore the sudden, dangerous flutter in your stomach at his words. "Let's see how long that actually lasts."

"Oh, it will last," Jeongguk said, his tone dropping into a quieter, more deliberate register as he looked down at you. "You'll make sure of it."

You blinked, momentarily losing your train of thought as your eyes tracked a stray bead of sweat rolling down his collarbone. "Pardon?"

"You’re the only one I can trust with my heart right now," he explained smoothly, a completely earnest, unguarded look washing over his features. He stepped a fraction closer, the heat radiating off his bare chest practically enveloping you. "So, yes. You. Making sure no one is hurting your super hot friend."

Your knees almost buckled right there on the oil-stained concrete.

Super hot?

Did he just casually drop that into conversation like he hadn't spent the last ten years being your dorky, platonic sidekick? Before you could even formulate a coherent response, Jeongguk caught the sudden shock on your face. A playful, slightly teasing glint sparked in his dark eyes, his lips tilting up at the corners.

"Am I not?" he challenged softly, tilting his head as if genuinely waiting for your assessment.

You swallowed hard, your mind scrambling to put the platonic walls back up before he noticed how fast your heart was beating. "I plead the fifth."

Jeongguk let out a breathy, dramatic groan, throwing his head back before looking down at you through his lashes. "God, Y/N, you’re so dramatic. I can openly say you’re hot."

Your brain completely short-circuited. "Sorry?"

"What?" He shrugged his shoulders, completely unfazed by the bomb he’d just dropped in the middle of his garage. "It’s not like it’s federal information. You’re attractive, I’m attractive. You should be able to speak open truths."

You gulped again, the sound loud in your own ears as you looked anywhere but at the hard lines of his chest. "Fine," you grumbled, forcing the words past your lips like a confession under interrogation. "You’re hot. Happy?"

Jeongguk’s playful smirk instantly vanished, replaced by a dramatic, exaggerated pout. He whined, the sound high and petulant, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "No, see? Now I don't even want it anymore if you don't actually believe it."

You let out a sharp scoff, throwing your hands up in disbelief. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

"I'm serious," he insisted, his voice dropping into a quieter, more vulnerable register. He stepped a fraction closer, his shoes almost touching the tips of yours. He looked down at you, completely stripped of his usual idol persona. "I don't want you to say things just because I want to hear them. I have enough people in my life for that,Y/N. Millions of them. I don't need it from you."

The sudden, raw honesty of his words hit you like a physical weight. You looked up, meeting his gaze, and swear his eyes just got ten times more sparkly and round, shimmering with a sudden, intense vulnerability.

He was practically vibrating with the unspoken urge to be perceived, truly perceived, by the only person whose opinion actually mattered to him.

The platonic armor you’d spent so long building suddenly felt paper-thin. You let out a soft sigh, reaching out to gently tap his bare chest, right over his racing heart.

"Jeongguk," you said, your voice softening, holding his gaze so he knew you meant it. "You're hot. I'm not just saying it."

The second the words left your mouth, the heavy tension broke. A massive, radiant grin split across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners into those familiar, endearing crescent shapes.

"Thank you," he sang out in a sweet, sing-song voice, practically beaming as he swayed his shoulders from side to side like a praised toddler. The transition from a brooding, shirtless man to a needy, praise-hungry boy was so fast it made your head spin, leaving you entirely at the mercy of whatever games he was playing with your heart.

You spent the whole afternoon prepping for the said party. You were beyond glad for his shiny black card, which you used with zero remorse. It could buy the good alcohol—the top-shelf stuff his agency normally rationed him on—along with an obscene mountain of incredible snacks that you knew you would half-demolish before the guests even knocked on the door. You had bags of high-end chips, imported chocolates, and savory finger foods piled high on his marble kitchen counters, casually stealing a handful of pretzels every time you walked by.

His apartment was massive, but it was also quite dark. He had a penchant for heavy, blackout curtains and moody industrial architecture, and you laughed a ton when you tried to string up some extra LED lights around the living room and hallways. You muttered to yourself while balancing on a stool, desperately trying to ensure people wouldn't step on each other's toes in the pitch-black tomb of his very boy-coded apartment.

It was a chaotic mix of state-of-the-art gaming rigs, massive speakers, random workout equipment in the corner, and a giant plush couch that screamed bachelor pad.

His bedroom, however, was strictly off-limits. Locked and closed for the public.

As you passed the heavy wood door on your way to the bathroom, you paused. You hadn't been inside his room in a long way, and your mind naturally began to wander, curiosity pricking at your chest. You started to wonder how it had changed from the last time you were there, back when it was just a messy pile of clothes and a mattress on the floor. Now, as even a more famous star than he was at the start, did he have silk sheets? A massive canopy bed?

More dangerously, you started to wonder what women had seen those sheets. Which faces had looked up at him in the dark?

At last, you forcefully pushed the burning thought aside, shaking your head to clear the sudden spike of jealousy. It didn't matter. You had a job to do, and besides, the guests were finally starting to arrive.

The heavy front door clicked open, and the quiet tomb of his apartment was instantly flooded with chatter and laughter as his oldest childhood friends spilled into the entryway. Jeongguk was already standing by the kitchen island, the grease long washed from his skin, replaced by a soft, oversized black sweater and a fresh scent. He’d clearly been anticipating the social buffering, because by the time the first three people crossed the threshold, Jeongguk had already thrown back two heavy shots of tequila.

His round eyes were already bright and crinkling with a loose, alcohol-fueled warmth.

Throwing his hands into the air, his silver lip piercing catching the glow of the newly strung lights, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Welcome, party people!"

The room erupted into cheers, his friends rushing forward to swarm him, throwing arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into a chaotic huddle of loud greetings and deep belly laughs. From across the room, you leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him instantly dissolve back into the boy he used to be, completely shielded from the crushing weight of his global fame by the people who loved him first.

The party shifted into high gear with the easy, unpretentious noise of people who had nothing to prove to each other. In the hazy glow of the blue and purple lights, the living room felt less like a celebrity’s multi-million dollar fortress and more like a time capsule.

"I’m just saying," Jin-woo, one of Jeongguk’s oldest friends from his hometown, gestured wildly with a half-eaten chip, "If a zombie apocalypse happens right now, Koo is the first to die. He’s too polite. He’d try to bow to a zombie before kicking it."

"No way!" Jeongguk protested, his voice a little too loud, a little too slurred as he leaned heavily against the back of the plush couch. He poured himself another shot of tequila, his hand shaking just enough that a few drops splashed onto his knuckles. "I have muscle memory now. I’d do a 360-kick. Boom. Dead zombie."

"You'd cry if you got blood on your designer shoes," you chimed in from the kitchen island, swirling the ice cubes in your cup.

Jeongguk’s head snapped toward you instantly. His sweet, round eyes were heavily hooded, a dark, glossy sheen over them as he tracked your movement. A soft, lazy smile spread across his face, his silver lip piercing catching the strobe of the lights. "Y/N... you’re supposed to be on my side. Always."

"I am on your side. I'm just realistic," you laughed, taking a slow sip.

You were barely on your second glass of vodka cranberry, the tart liquid still mostly full as you paced yourself. You had to. Someone needed to keep an eye on the house, and more importantly, someone needed to keep an eye on him.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, was throwing them back like water. The pressure of the upcoming tour, the suffocating nature of his daily life—it was all bleeding out of him in the form of liquid courage. He was drinking to forget the idol.

An hour later, the loud, stupid arguments dissolved into the inevitable late-night deep talk. Three of his friends were sprawled on the floor, debating the existence of aliens, while Jin-woo had moved onto the balcony for a smoke.

Jeongguk somehow navigated his way over to you, his shoulders bumping into yours as he leaned heavily against the kitchen counter. He smelled like expensive cologne and sharp alcohol.

"You're barely drinking," he murmured, his voice dropping into that low, raspy rumble that always made your stomach do backflips. He reached out, his large hand wrapping around your wrist, his thumb casually brushing against your pulse point. His touch was warm, heavy, and intentionally lingering.

"Someone has to make sure you don't break your own furniture," you teased gently, though your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs. "How many shots is that now? Five? Six?"

"Doesn't matter," he whispered, stepping a fraction closer, completely ignoring the chatter of his friends just twenty feet away. He looked down at you, his large eyes shimmering under the dim kitchen lights. "Everything feels... too loud out there, Y/N. But when I look at you, it stops."

Your breath hitched.

"Jeongguk, you're drunk," you whispered back, trying to maintain the boundary, trying not to let your ten-year-old crush completely take over.

"I am," he admitted softly, his grip on your wrist tightening just a fraction as he leaned his forehead down, almost touching your shoulder. It was that physical surrender again—putting himself entirely in your space, begging you without words to hold him together. "But I'm only brave when the sun goes down. You know that. Stay 'til sunrise. Please."

"Fine," you sighed, trying to ignore the frantic pounding in your chest as you gently patted his broad, sweater-clad shoulder. "But you’re taking the couch tonight, Koo. I’m not carrying you anywhere."

A soft, breathy laugh left his throat, and before you could even brace yourself, Jeongguk leaned in. He pressed his lips firmly against your temple, a lingering, warm pressure that smelled faintly of tequila and mint. "Thank you," he murmured against your skin, a string of another quiet, drunken thank yous spilling out of his mouth as he finally pulled back.

You stood there, entirely frozen, your brain struggling to process how to function normally. Those sweet, tactile gestures of his had remained exactly the same over the last decade. It was just a temple kiss. It was the kind of thing he’d done a hundred times when you were younger, yet now, with his shoulders framing you and his deep voice vibrating in his chest, it rattled you down to your very core.

Before you could spiral any further into your own head, Hana—one of Jin-woo’s louder cousins who had tagged along—yelled from the living room floor, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention.

"Hey! Enough with the alien talk," Hana shouted, swirling the ice in her cup. "We should play something actually fun. Like truth or dare... or better yet, truth or drink!"

The room instantly erupted into murmurs of agreement, but nobody moved faster than Jeongguk. His face lit up, his round eyes wide and sparkling under the blue LED's as he practically jumped at the opportunity to drink more.

"Truth or drink," Jeongguk cheered, his voice loose and excited as he pushed off the kitchen counter. He grabbed the half-empty bottle of top-shelf tequila by the neck, giving you a quick, triumphant look over his shoulder. "Yes. Let's do it. I'm choosing drink every single damn time, I don't care."

He stumbled slightly as he made his way to the center of the room, dropping heavily onto the plush rug right in the middle of the circle, looking up at everyone like a kid waiting for a game to start. He was already so completely undone, and as you walked over to join the circle with your barely touched vodka cranberry, a sudden, heavy wave of anticipation settled deep in your stomach.

You knew exactly how Jeongguk played games when he was like this. He was honest to a fault, but tonight, with the alcohol running warm through his veins he might start being too honest.

The bottle of tequila sat right in the center of the hardwood floor, spinning rapidly under the flashing lights until it slowed down, its neck pointing directly at Jin-woo.

"Alright, alright," Jin-woo grinned, leaning forward on his knees. He looked across the circle at Jeongguk, who was sitting cross-legged, a little loopy, swaying slightly to the music. "Koo. First round. Truth or drink. What is the absolute worst thing about being a global superstar? Give us the real dirt."

You expected Jeongguk to reach for his cup immediately. His agency spent millions of dollars training him to handle questions like this with perfectly polished, diplomatic answers. Instead, Jeongguk just let out a soft, hazy laugh, his eyes dropping to his hands.

"The loneliness," he said, the sheer honesty of his voice cutting right through the lighthearted party atmosphere. The circle went quiet. Jeongguk looked up, his round eyes wide and entirely undisguised by his usual idol armor. "You think you're surrounded by the world, but when the stage lights go off, you're just sitting alone in a sterile hotel room in a country where you don't speak the language, wondering if anyone actually misses you, or if they just miss the guy on the posters. It's suffocating."

A collective, sympathetic hum went around the room. Jin-woo blinked, clearly not expecting him to drop something so heavy in the first five minutes. You felt a familiar twist of pain in your chest, your eyes softening as you looked at him. Jeongguk didn't take a sip, he just gave a tiny, vulnerable shrug, completely comfortable laying his soul bare in front of the people who knew him before the fame.

Hana spun the bottle next. It whirled around before grinding to a halt, pointing straight back at Jeongguk.

"Oh, my turn," Hana perked up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Okay, Jeongguk. You said earlier today that you're 'girl-sober' right now. So tell the truth: when was the last time you actually kissed someone, and did it mean anything?"

You held your breath, your fingers tightening around your glass of vodka cranberry.

Jeongguk tilted his head back against the edge of the couch behind him, a slow, lazy smile spreading across his face. He didn't even reach for the tequila bottle. "Two years ago," he stated bluntly, his voice a low, raspy rumble. "A girl I met during a break between promotions. And no, it didn't mean anything. That was the problem. I tried to make it mean something because I hate casual stuff, but she just wanted to tell her friends she was dating an idol. It felt transactional. I hated it."

"Damn," Hana muttered, taking a drink of her own beer out of pure secondhand awkwardness. "You're really not holding back tonight, are you?"

"I told you," Jeongguk murmured, his dark, glossy eyes suddenly shifting across the circle until they locked directly onto yours. "I don't want to say fake things tonight. I'm tired of it."

Before the heavy silence following Jeongguk’s sudden drink can completely suffocate the room, Jin-woo quickly reaches out and gives the glass bottle another aggressive spin. It whirs sharply on the hardwood floor, a blur of green glass under the flashing blue lights, before slowing down and pointing its cap directly at you.

"Oh, finally! The spotlight shifts," Hana cheers, leaning forward on her elbows with a wicked, deeply intrigued grin. She doesn't hesitate for a second. "Okay, Y/N. Truth or drink. We all know you're fiercely independent in your daily life, but does that translate to the bedroom? Are you the type who likes to be completely in charge, calling all the shots, or do you prefer to submit?"

Your heart does a violent, erratic leap against your ribs. Out of the corner of your eye, you feel Jeongguk freeze.

You slowly turn your head to look at him, and the sheer intensity of his gaze almost makes you gasp. His sweet, round eyes are completely dark, his pupils blown so wide they nearly swallow the irises. He’s staring at your lips, his chest heaving under his oversized black sweater, practically vibrating with a sudden, suffocating hunger. He looks entirely undone by the question, his lips parting slightly as he waits for your answer with a desperate, breathless anticipation.

You clear your throat, forcing your voice to remain steady. "I think prefer being in charge," you reply, keeping it blunt and confident. "I like the feeling of control."

A low, collective “Ooooooh” ripples through the circle of friends, but you barely hear them. The absolute heat of Jeongguk’s unblinking stare is burning into your skin, making your throat go completely dry. Even though you answered the truth, you desperately need a distraction, so you lift your glass of vodka cranberry and take a heavy, long sip, letting the tart alcohol burn away the sudden spike of nerves.

"Knew it!" Hana laughs loudly, raising her cup to you in approval. "A total boss. Honestly, whoever ends up in your bed is a lucky bastard."

Hana grabs the bottle next, giving it a careless flick to keep the game moving. It spins and lands right back on her. Jin-woo immediately jumps in with a smirk. "Alright, Hana, truth or drink: Is it true you secretly cried when your ex got a matching tattoo with his new girlfriend?" Hana gasps, throwing a couch pillow directly at his face before grabbing her beer. "Shut up! I'm drinking, I am absolutely drinking for that one," she groans, chugging a massive gulp while everyone erupts into loud, teasing laughter.

The distraction gives you a brief moment to breathe, but when you glance back at Jeongguk, he hasn't moved an inch. He is still looking up at you from his spot on the floor, his silver lip piercing glinting.

The bottle gets spun again, whirring lazily until it grinds to a halt, pointing directly at another childhood friend, Jisung.

Jisung groans, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, man. Go easy on me. I've had a rough week."

Seojun leans forward, a thoughtful expression replacing his usual mischievous grin as the atmosphere shifts back into something a bit deeper. "Alright, Jisung. Real talk. Truth or drink: Since we're all getting older and life is pulling us in different directions, do you ever feel like you're getting left behind by the rest of us?"

Jisung sighs, a sad, honest smile touching his lips as he looks around the circle, his eyes briefly lingering on Jeongguk’s massive, luxurious apartment. "Yeah," Jisung admits softly, his voice quiet against the background music. "Sometimes it's hard. Like, I'm so incredibly proud of Koo, and I love seeing all of you succeed, but looking at my own nine-to-five... it makes me feel like I'm standing still while everyone else is running. It's a weird kind of pressure."

"Dude, no," Jeongguk speaks up instantly, his raspy voice full of genuine affection. He leans forward, completely breaking the circle's boundary to grab Jisung’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly with his hand. "Don't ever think that. None of this fame stuff matters if I don't have you guys to come home to. You're not left behind. You're exactly where you need to be."

Jisung smiles, visibly touched, and raises his glass to clink it against Jeongguk's tequila bottle. The warmth of their old friendship fills the room, but as Jeongguk pulls his hand back, his dark, heavy eyes slide right back to yours.

The rest of the party continued in a hazy blur of slurred words, loud, nostalgic belly laughs, and increasingly messy drinking. By the time the clock crawled past three in the morning, the high-energy atmosphere had completely dissolved. The final straw came when Jisung, looking pale and thoroughly defeated by the alcohol, stumbled toward the entryway and nearly threw up directly into a massive, expensive indoor plant pot.

Jin-woo caught him by the back of his jacket just in time. That was officially everyone's cue to leave.

There was a chaotic fifteen minutes of shuffling feet, mumbled thank-yous, and heavy slaps on shoulders as you helped herd his childhood friends out into the hallway. When the heavy front door finally clicked shut, the sudden, absolute silence of the multi-million dollar apartment felt deafening.

You turned back toward the living room, only to find Jeongguk dragging his feet across the hardwood floor. True to his word from earlier, he was clutching a plush, oversized pillow under one arm and trailing a heavy, dark duvet behind him, preparing to claim the sofa.

He was so incredibly drunk. His broad shoulders were slouched under his black sweater, his movements completely uncoordinated. As he tried to navigate around the low coffee table, his knee clipped the edge, causing him to stumble awkwardly. His hand shot out to steady himself, almost knocking an empty highball glass clean off the wood surface.

"Whoa, easy there," you murmured, quickly stepping into his space. You grabbed the glass before it could shatter, setting it safely aside, and then crouched down slightly to match his eye level as he heavily dropped his weight onto the edge of the cushions. "Koo... look at you. I think you should actually just take the bed tonight. I can sleep out here."

Jeongguk immediately gestured a clumsy, emphatic no with his hand, shaking his head so hard a few strands of dark hair fell into his face. The sudden movement clearly sent a wave of vertigo through him, because it was instantly followed by a pained, whispered, "Jesus..."as he tightly pressed his palm against his forehead, closing his eyes against the dim lights.

You cocked a brow at him, amused but secretly melting at how soft and defenseless he looked when the tough idol persona was stripped away entirely. "See? You can barely hold your head up. Go to your room, Jeongguk."

"No," he rasped, his voice incredibly deep and thick with sleep and alcohol. He slowly dropped his hand from his face, lifting his head to look up at you through his thick lashes. His sweet, round eyes were heavily hooded, wide and shimmering with some sort of vulnerability. "Don't go yet. Let's... let's talk for a while. I missed you. I missed you so much, Y/N."

Your heart did a violent, erratic hammer against your chest at the sheer desperation in his tone. It was a direct plea, completely unguarded.

Despite the warning bells screaming in your head about your decade-long crush, you found yourself complying. You let out a soft breath and sat down right next to him on the couch, the plush cushions sinking under your weight as his heavy, warm presence instantly enveloped you in the quiet dark.

The moment you settled onto the cushion, his heavy head fell sideways, landing directly on your shoulder. You were instantly engulfed by his scent. It was a fragrance so deeply familiar to you, cutting right through the tequila-infused softness he had going on tonight.

Jeongguk always smelled incredibly clean. Over the years, you had grown to associate crispy, clean cotton smells with his smile. Whenever his brutal, tight schedules didn't allow him the time to text or call you for weeks on end, you had found a strange sort of reprieve in those scents—buying detergents or candles that smelled like fresh laundry just to feel like he wasn't entirely a world away.

He shifted against you, his cheek rubbing into the fabric of your shirt as the quiet apartment settled around you both. He noted the sudden, heavy silence in the room and tilted his head up just enough to look at your profile, his bottom lip pushing out into an almost childlike pout.

"Did not you miss me too?" he asked, his deep voice muffled against your neck, raw and terribly needy.

You couldn't help the soft smile that tugged at your lips. You turned your head slightly, your breath brushing over his hair. "Obviously, Koo. How could I not? You’re my best friend."

At the word friend, Jeongguk let out a low, vibration-heavy hum in his chest. It wasn't a happy sound. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing as he tightly gripped a fistful of the dark duvet resting on his lap.

"I'm so confused," he whispered, the admission sounding small and cracked.

You blinked, shifting slightly so you could look down at his face. "Why?" you asked softly, your heart doing a nervous, anticipatory flutter against your ribs. "What's making you confused?"

"Because it should feel different," Jeongguk muttered, his voice dropping into a register so low and raspy it sent a physical shiver straight down your spine. He didn't lift his head from your shoulder. He just pressed closer, his warm breath seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

You grew thoroughly confused, your fingers tightening around the edge of the couch cushion. "What? What should feel different, Koo?"

He let out a ragged, heavy sigh, his chest expanding against your side. "Everything," he whispered. "I’ve been thinking for a while... that love, real romantic love, should feel at least as deep and all-consuming as the type of love I have for you."

The wind was completely knocked out of your lungs. For a terrifying second, you forgot how to breathe entirely. Your mind raced back over the last ten years, the late-night phone calls, the quiet domesticity of your friendship, and the heavy, burning crush you had tried so desperately to bury. You bit your lip hard, the sharp sting of pain the only thing keeping you grounded, in a desperate attempt to steady your trembling voice.

"Jeongguk," you breathed, your voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator in the quiet apartment. "What... what do you mean by that?"

He finally pulled his head back from your shoulder, shifting on the plush cushions so he could face you fully. He looked entirely undone by the alcohol and the sheer weight of his own thoughts. He started explaining with his hands, his long fingers cutting through the dim light. His intricate tattoos shifted across his skin, and the silver rings on his fingers glinted sharply in the dark as he gestured in frustration.

"I can't do casual, Y/N," he said, his eyes wide, glossy, and swimming with a desperate, heavy sensitivity. "I can't. Because I know how true love should feel. I know it because of you. Every single time I’ve tried to date, every time I’ve tried to build something with someone else, I find myself associating what I feel for them in comparison with you."

A beat.

Two beats.

Three beats.

The silence in the room became so heavy it was suffocating.

"And every single time," Jeongguk whispered, his head tilting down as he looked up at you through his lashes, completely stripping away his defenses and surrendering his heart right into your hands, "I’ve found that they always come short. In comparison with you."

You tried to diffuse the situation right then and there. Your brain was working in overdrive, frantically constructing walls because the alternative—believing him—meant stepping into a territory that could ruin everything you had built over the last years.

He was drunk. He was clearly not thinking straight. He was currently trying to be girl-sober, and in your mind, he was just projecting his deeply ingrained, serial monogamist tendencies onto the closest, safest thing he had. You.

It wasn’t true. It couldn't be true.

"Jeongguk," you said, your voice tight as you forced a breath into your lungs, desperately trying to ignore how loud your own heart was knocking against your ribs. "I think you’re just projecting. You're exhausted, you've been lonely on tour, and you're just confusing comfort for something else."

He muttered a low, ragged "Jesus..."again, his hand rising to tightly press against his forehead. He didn't even seem to fully process what you said, completely deaf to the frantic rhythm of your chest as the alcohol and the emotional weight of his own confession finally dragged him under.

The raw intensity in his eyes flickered out, replaced by heavy exhaustion. Without another word, he let his upper body slide sideways, his head plopping heavily onto the plush pillow he’d thrown on the edge of the couch.

He curled his body slightly into the cushions, his dark lashes fluttering shut as a deep, uneven breath left his parted lips, leaving you sitting there in the dim blue LED light, completely frozen next to him.

That’s when you realize his bedroom door was probably still locked, a solid block of wood protecting a room you weren't allowed to enter.

You had absolutely no option but to sleep on the couch next to him. Letting out a quiet, defeated breath, you grabbed the edge of the heavy, dark duvet he’d brought out, pulling it over both of your bodies to shield against the air conditioning. You shifted your weight, settling into the cushions as best you could, and tried to sleep.

It was impossible. Seven thousand thoughts were swirling in your mind, a chaotic storm of memory and denial.

But Jeongguk was drunk.

He was completely out of it, his deep, even breaths rising and falling against your side. He wouldn't remember this in the morning, you told yourself. Tomorrow, the sun would come up, the platonic armor would go back on, and he would just be your best friend again. You closed your eyes, letting the clean cotton scent of him anchor you as you finally drifted into a restless sleep, completely unaware of how thin the line between you had truly become.

But the next morning, he was nowhere to be seen.

When you finally opened your eyes, blinking against the harsh, bright sunlight piercing through the cracks of the heavy blackout curtains, the couch beside you was completely empty. You checked your phone—it was god knows what hour of the late morning—and the realization that you were alone in the vast, quiet space hit you like a cold splash of water. The heavy dark duvet was pulled back, the plush pillow still holding the indentation of his head, but Jeongguk was gone.

So naturally, you grew a bit anxious.

A tight, familiar knot formed in the pit of your stomach as you sat up, the silence of the multi-million dollar apartment suddenly feeling incredibly heavy. Your mind instantly began to scramble, racing back through the events of the previous night. You hoped with everything you had that he would just forget what he said last night. You prayed the tequila had completely wiped his memory, that the slurred confessions about true love and people coming up short in comparison to you would just evaporate into the morning air. If he forgot, everything could go back to normal. You could go back to being the constant, unshakeable variable in his life.

But then the darker, terrifying thoughts started to bleed in, turning your anxiety into full-blown panic.

What if he remembered? What if he woke up with a pounding headache and a crystal-clear recollection of every single word that had left his mouth? What if he was so thoroughly mortified, so repulsed by the fact that he had crossed that sacred platonic line and laid his soul bare, that he had physically chosen to flee his own home just to avoid looking you in the eye?

You stood up, your knees slightly shaky, your eyes darting toward the hallway. His bedroom door was still closed, but the heavy silence in the apartment made it feel like he had abandoned the entire place just to escape the mess he’d created in the dark.

That’s when you heard the faucet running.

The sharp, metallic hiss of rushing water cut through the suffocating silence of the apartment, drawing your attention toward the kitchen. Your heart skipped a beat, the knot of anxiety in your stomach loosening just a fraction, only to tighten again with a completely different kind of tension.

With small steps, your feet padding quietly against the cold hardwood floor, you made your way down the hall. Every single breath you took felt like lead, heavy and burning in your chest. You braced yourself for a tense, awkward confrontation, preparing to play off his drunken rambling as a massive joke.

Instead, you rounded the corner and saw him in all his glory, completely naked from the belt up.

The bright morning sunlight poured through the kitchen window, hitting the sharp, fiercely toned lines of his back and shoulders as he stood in front of the sink. He had a clean pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, exposing that dark, dangerous happy trail you’d been obsessing over the day before. His skin practically glistened, completely washed clean of the previous night's sweat and alcohol, and his dark, damp hair strands curled slightly around his nape. He was rinsing out a couple of mugs, hands moving with effortless, domestic grace.

As if sensing your presence, Jeongguk turned around.

There was no repulsion on his face. No awkwardness, no frantic desire to flee. Instead, his sweet, round eyes instantly crinkled at the corners, and a warm, lazy grin spread across his face, his silver lip piercing catching the morning light.

He greeted you in a sweet, entirely normal manner.

"Morning, sleepypants," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly morning rumble that vibrated pleasantly in the quiet air. He set the mug down and gestured toward the espresso machine on the counter. "Coffee?"

You sit down awkwardly on one of the high barstools at the marble kitchen island, your hands folded in your lap as you nod your head. "Yes, please. Black is fine."

The silence stretches between you for a bit, heavy and thick on your end, though Jeongguk seems entirely unbothered as he presses a button on the espresso machine. The low whirring of the grinder fills the space, and the rich, dark scent of coffee begins to bloom in the air. Your mind is still a frantic mess of questions, the sheer weight of his shirtless torso in the bright morning light not helping your ability to think straight.

Unable to take the suspense any longer, you clear your throat. "Koo?"

He hums in response, not turning around just yet as he watches the dark liquid drip into the mugs, patiently waiting for you to continue.

You swallow hard, tracing a invisible line on the marble counter. "Do you... do you remember last night?"

Jeongguk freezes for a split second, his shoulders tensing just a fraction before he slowly turns around to face you. He leans back against the counter, crossing his tattooed arm over his bare chest, a totally blank, deadpan expression washing over his features.

"Last night?" he repeats, blinking his eyes with exaggerated confusion. He tilts his head, looking down at his own bare torso and then back up at you. "Wait... what year is it?"

You instantly catch onto the stupid joke, a rush of exasperated relief flooding your chest. You reach out, grabbing a random crumpled tissue you found sitting on the edge of the counter, and throw it straight at his face.

He ducks, but it clips his shoulder anyway. Jeongguk bursts into a loud, boxing-glove laugh, his eyes crinkling into those familiar, endearing crescents as the heavy tension in the room instantly evaporates.

"Yes," he says, his laughter dying down into a soft, knowing smile as he holds your gaze, his voice dropping back into that low morning cadence. "I remember last night, Y/N."

Your stomach drops straight through the floor. The relief you felt a second ago evaporates, replaced by a sudden, choking wave of heat that rises all the way to your face. You fumble with your words, your tongue feeling thick and clumsy as you try to form a coherent sentence.

"You—you remember?" you stammer, your hands nervously gripping the edge of the marble counter. "Then... what you said on the couch. Before you fell asleep. Did you... I mean, did you actually mean it?"

Jeongguk stays quiet for a while. The playful morning light suddenly feels too bright, too exposing. He doesn't move from where he’s leaning against the counter, but the easy grin vanishes from his face. He looks down at his feet, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard, his chest expanding with a deep, deliberate breath.

When he finally lifts his head, his eyes are dead serious, devoid of any tequila-induced haze.

"Yes," he says, his voice a low, steady vibration. "I meant it."

You blink, your chest tightening so fast it hurts. "What... what did you mean, Jeongguk? Exactly?"

"I meant what I meant," he mutters, his jaw clenching as he shifts his weight. He crosses his arms tighter over his bare chest, a defensive instinct kicking in as he tries to maintain his footing. He’s trying to stay casual, trying to play the enigmatic card, but the slight twitch in his silver lip piercing gives him away.

"Yes, but what does it mean?" you push, your voice cracking slightly out of frustration. You lean forward on the barstool, completely done with the riddles. "You don't get to drop a bomb like that, tell me everyone else comes short in comparison to me, and then just say 'I meant what I meant.' What does that mean for us, Jeongguk? What are you actually saying?"

Jeongguk stares at you, the silence stretching out between you like a taut wire. You can practically hear the furious looping in his head, the terrifying friction between the decade of friendship holding him back and the raw, suffocating desire to just stop hiding.

"It means exactly what you think it means, Y/N," he says defensively, his voice rising a fraction. "Why do I have to spell it out?"

"Because you were drunk!" you snap back, your own walls going up because you're terrified of getting your hopes destroyed. "Because people say crazy things when they've had six shots of tequila! You told me I'm the standard for your love life. Do you have any idea how insane that is to hear from your best friend?"

That's the breaking point.

Jeongguk cracks. The stubborn, defensive posture completely shatters, his arms dropping to his sides as he takes a sudden, aggressive step forward, closing the distance between the counter and your stool. He looms over you, his bare chest heaving, his eyes wide and burning with a desperate, chaotic intensity.

"It's not insane!" he bursts out, his voice cracking with a raw, emotional force that echoes through the quiet kitchen. He grips the edge of the marble island right next to your thighs, leaning down until his face is just inches from yours, entirely undone. "It's not the tequila, Y/N! I've been sober for months on tour and I thought about it every single day. Every girl I look at, every person I talk to, I'm just looking for you in them. I'm tired of pretending I don't. I'm tired of the mystery. I meant that I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve been in love with you for years!"

"You're crazy!" you snap back, the pure panic in your chest bubbling over into anger as you push yourself back against the barstool. "You are completely crazy, Jeongguk! You can’t just wake up one day and decide to ruin a ten-year friendship because you had a breakthrough on tour! You don't just get to tear down everything we built because you feel like it!"

He flinches as if you physically struck him. The fierce, looming intensity drains from his posture in an instant, leaving him looking raw and incredibly small despite his broad frame. His eyes turn visibly sad, a thick, glossy sheen coating them under the bright kitchen lights. His jaw tightens, his silver lip piercing trembling just a fraction before a bitter, hurt laugh leaves his throat.

"Well, excuse the fuck out of me if I have feelings," he spits out, his voice cracking with a dangerous mix of anger and absolute rejection. He pulls his hands off the marble counter and takes a step back, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso again, as if trying to shield his chest from you. "Excuse me for actually trusting my best friend enough to be honest. I didn't decide to feel this way, Y/N."

"It’s not even about that!" you yell back, your hands flying into the air out of sheer frustration. You slide off the barstool, finally standing on your own two feet so you don't have to look up at him. "Jeongguk, think for one second! Could you actually afford to lose me if a relationship goes south? If we do this, if we cross that line and it blows up in our faces, we don't get to go back to being friends. I'm gone. You're gone. Everything is ruined. Can you honestly afford that?"

At your words, his entire demeanor shifts from heartbroken to super pissy and defensive, the vulnerability of his ego being bruised making him lash out.

"It wouldn't go south!" he barks, his chest heaving as he glares down at you, his face flushing a furious, hurt red. "Why are you already deciding we're going to fail? And you know what? It doesn't even matter because you’re standing here acting like you have the high moral ground! Like you're the only one who cares about our friendship and I'm just some reckless idiot trying to break it!"

"I don’t have a moral ground!" you shout, stepping right into his space, your voice matching his volume. "I’m just trying to be smart about this! Someone has to be, because you're clearly letting your emotions run completely wild right now!"

"Why should you be smart?!" Jeongguk erupts, his frustration completely breaking through the ceiling. He throws his hands up, the silver rings on his fingers flashing aggressively in the morning sun. He steps so close you can feel the radiating, shirtless heat of his skin, his breath hitting your face in short, ragged gasps. He looks down at you, his eyes searching your face with a suffocating anger. "Why do you always have to be the logical one? Tell me the truth, Y/N—have you ever even thought about me that way? Even once? Or am I just the only idiot who’s been suffocating in this for years?"

"Of course I’ve thought about you that way!" you burst out, the truth ripping through your throat before you could even try to stop it. "Every single day for the last ten years, Jeongguk! I have been suffocating right next to you, watching you date other people, watching you become a global superstar, completely terrified that if I said a word, I’d lose you forever!"

Jeongguk completely freezes. The furious, pissy retort dies right on his tongue, his mouth hanging open slightly as his chest heaves. His round eyes widen, the glossy unshed tears making them look impossibly huge as he processes your words.

"You..." he stammers, his voice becoming a breathless, vulnerable whisper. "You have?"

"Yes! But you’re sitting here acting like it’s so simple," you say, your voice trembling with an overwhelming mix of anger, frustration, and a decade's worth of built-up tension. You take a step closer, your eyes locking onto his parted lips, then tracing up to the raw, completely undone expression on his face. He looks so helpless, so utterly desperate for your touch, standing there shirtless in the bright morning light.

You need him to understand. You need to prove to him that this isn't just some casual, easy dynamic he can play with. You want to prove a point—to show him exactly what he's playing with, exactly how dangerous this boundary truly is.

Before he can utter another word, you reach out, your fingers gripping the soft fabric of his sweatpants at his hip to pull him in, and you slam your lips against his.

Jeongguk lets out a sharp, muffled gasp into your mouth, his entire body jolting at the sudden impact. But the hesitation lasts for less than a second. The moment he realizes you are actually kissing him, he completely shatters. A low, desperate groan rumbles deep in his chest, and his tattooed hands flies to your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with a terrifying, suffocating hunger.

The kiss is chaotic, fierce, and overflowing with ten years of unspoken agony. You pour everything into it—all the logic, all the smart choices, all the fear of losing him—crushing your lips against his until your teeth click. He tastes like the rich espresso he just brewed and the sharp, lingering heat of his own desperation. He follows your lead completely, surrendering to the dominance you admitted to just hours before, letting you call every single shot as he whimpers against your mouth, his frame trembling beneath your hands.

When you finally pull back, your chest heaving, your lips swollen and tingling, you try to step away to establish the boundary again. "See?" you breathe out, your voice shaky as you stare at his dark, completely blown-out pupils. "That is what we lose if—"

"No," Jeongguk whines instantly, the sudden loss of your lips making him sound incredibly small and pathetic. His hands tighten on your waist, physically yanking you right back against his bare, warm chest. His nose brushes against yours, his breath hot and ragged. "No, Y/N. Please. Just one more. One more."

"Jeongguk, I'm trying to make a point—"

"I don't care about the point," he groans, his voice turning super whiny, his bottom lip pushing out in a desperate, pouty expression that completely contrasts his heavily tattooed, muscular frame. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering shut as he practically begs. "Just one more kiss. Please. Y/N. One more, and then I’ll listen to the logical stuff. Just one more."

You melt away entirely under the pathetic, desperate drag of his voice. Every ounce of your hard-earned logic completely liquefies, dripping away into the space between your pounding hearts as you slide your hands up his radiating chest to cup the back of his neck, pulling him right back down to you.

The moment your lips meet again, Jeongguk kisses you like it’s the only thing he was ever put on this earth to do.

It is an agonizingly deep, consuming kiss that destroys any remaining illusion of your platonic past. He devours you, his plush lips parting with a fierce, wet desperation that immediately slicks your skin. He uses his tongue with a heavy, deliberate stroke, sweeping into your mouth to claim you entirely, tasting intensely of the bitter espresso and the sweet, clean mint from earlier. Every tilt of his head is a calculated shift to press deeper, his silver lip piercing sliding hot and sharp against your bottom lip, an intoxicating friction that sends a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core.

You let out a helpless, broken moan right into his mouth, the sound vibrating against his teeth.

The small noise completely undoes him. Jeongguk’s hands abandon your waist to roam frantically all over you, his palms hot and heavy as they map out your body. He slides his hands down the curve of your back, his blunt fingernails digging into your clothes, before lifting up to cup your jaw, his tattooed thumb firmly pressing against your pulse point to hold you perfectly still for his assault. His chest presses flush against you, the hard, sculpted lines of his abdomen crushing into your frame until you can feel the frantic, booming rhythm of his heart matching your own.

He is entirely consumed, a slave to the sudden shift in your dynamic.

He briefly breaks the kiss, his lips only parting a fraction of an inch from yours, leaving a string of wet, heavy breaths between you. His glossy eyes flutter open, looking at you with a gaze so completely wrecked and swimming with desire that it makes your knees buckle. He whines against your skin, a high, desperate sound cutting through his deep morning rasp as his forehead drops heavily against yours.

"I'm gonna make you feel good," he pleads, his breath hot and ragged against your swollen mouth as his hands slide back down to desperately grip your hips. "Please, Y/N... please let me make you feel good. Just let me. Please."

You don’t reply right away, your mind completely fracturing into a thousand pieces as you stand frozen in his kitchen. Your thoughts pull you in every direction, desperately trying to analyze the wreckage of the last five minutes.

The damage is done. You already kissed him—not just a gentle slip of the lips, but a fierce, devastating confession of a kiss that blew every single one of your carefully constructed boundaries right out the door. The sacred line of the friendship hasn't just been crossed; it’s been entirely incinerated.

As you stare down at his flushed face, a dark, heavy thought slips into your mind, taking root before your logic can tear it down: Would it really be so bad to just go through with it?

If everything is already broken, if the mystery is gone, why keep fighting the very thing that’s been suffocating you both for a decade? You look at his chest rising and falling in sharp, ragged gasps, his skin radiating a maddening heat that pulls you in like gravity.

Before a single word can tumble past your swollen lips, Jeongguk completely unravels. His knees give out, hitting the hardwood floor with a soft thud as he drops down right in front of you.

The global superstar, the man who fills stadiums worldwide, is entirely brought to his knees, looking up at you with huge, glassy, pleading eyes. He looks so sweet, so raw, and completely submissive to whatever you decide next.

"Please," he whimpers, the word spilling out of him like a broken prayer. "Please, Y/N."

He doesn't wait for your permission. His hands slide up the back of your legs, his palms scalding hot through the fabric of your clothes as he pulls your hips closer to his face. He buries his face against you, his warm forehead pressing firmly against your lower stomach as a ragged breath hitches in his throat.

"Let me make you feel good," he begs into your clothes, his voice dropping into a desperate, deep vibration that resonates straight through your skin. "Just let me do this for you. Please."

Then, his plush lips press against your clothed thighs.

He kisses you right through the fabric, his mouth hot and damp, leaving heavy, branding presses of his lips along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He nuzzles his face deeper against your legs, whining softly when you don't immediately push him away. The absolute friction of his silver lip piercing catching against the material, combined with the desperate, worshipful way his hands tighten on the back of your thighs, makes your breath hitch sharply in your throat. Your hands fly to his bare shoulders just to keep yourself steady, your fingers digging into his smooth, firm skin as the room tilts on its axis.

Your fingers sink deeper into the smooth muscle of his bare shoulders as the sheer weight of his worship pulls you under. The internal debate, the frantic logic, the fear of what happens when the dust settles—it all completely evaporates.

"Okay," you finally whisper, the single word cutting through his desperate, ragged breaths. "Okay, Jeongguk. Do it."

The permission hits him like an electric shock. He doesn't waste a single second, his hands moving with an frantic, desperate urgency. He grips the waistband of your pants and underwear together, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he tugs them down your legs in a breathless hurry. You kick out of them, your feet hitting the cool hardwood floor, leaving you completely exposed to him in the middle of the bright kitchen.

When he leans his head back in, you let out a sharp, involuntary hiss as the hot, concentrated burst of his breath hits your sensitive pubic area.

But he doesn't touch you yet. Jeongguk just stays frozen on his knees, his hands still tightly gripping the back of your thighs to anchor you in place. He’s just looking. His sweet eyes are wide and completely dark with a devastating mixture of awe and pure hunger. His chest heaves, his silver lip piercing glinting as his lips part slightly, his gaze completely tracing every inch of you as if he’s memorizing a holy text.

The intense, unblinking weight of his stare makes you shift your weight, a sudden spike of heat rushing to your face. "Jeongguk," you breathe out, your voice trembling. "What... what are you doing?"

"I need more room," he rasps, his voice dropping into a thick, desperate growl.

Before you can even process the words, his large hands slide under your thighs and around your back. In one swift, effortless motion, he lifts you completely off the ground. You let out a small gasp, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carries you out of the kitchen. He moves with a singular, fierce focus, and in a matter of seconds, you’re in his bedroom.

He lays you down onto the mattress, and you find yourself completely sprawled across the dark, silk sheets of his bed, the heavy clean cotton scent of him enveloping you entirely.

Jeongguk doesn't even let you catch your breath. He crawls up onto the mattress immediately, his large, heavy body looming over yours for a fraction of a second before he slides right back down between your thighs. He hooks your knees over his shoulders, pinning you open, and buries his face directly between your legs.

The first touch of his tongue is a wet, heavy stroke that makes your entire body arches off the bed. He eats you out like it’s a form of salvation, his mouth hot, wide, and utterly ravenous against your wet skin. He uses his tongue with a frantic, consuming rhythm, lapping at you with deep, deliberate strokes that pull a loud, undone moan right from your throat. The slick, wet sounds of his mouth against you echo in the quiet room, completely destroying any lingering sanity.

Even as he devours you, the desperate, pleading energy from the kitchen doesn't leave him. Every time you twist your fingers into his damp, dark hair to pull him closer, a muffled, high whine breaks from his throat, vibrating directly against your clit. He nuzzles his face deeper into your heat, his silver lip piercing sliding sharp and intoxicating against your most sensitive spots, making you sob his name into the empty air.

"Please," he whimpers against your wet flesh, breaking his rhythm for only a split second to breathe your name, his voice cracked and completely wrecked. His hands grip your hips so tightly his knuckles turn white, silently begging you to hold him there, to let him keep drowning in you. "Please tell me it's good. Tell me you like it, Y/N. Just let me stay right here."

You can only cry out in response, your hips instinctively rolling into his mouth as his tongue darts back inside, deeper and more desperate than before, completely surrendering his entire existence to the rhythm of your pleasure.

The sound of his name ripping from your throat sends a visible shiver straight through his broad, shirtless frame. Hearing how undone you are only makes him more desperate, his tongue working with a frantic, wet rhythm that has your hips rolling blindly into his face.

"You're so good, Koo," you gasp out, your knuckles turning white as you fist your fingers into his damp, dark hair, pressing him closer. "Ah—yes, right there. You're making me feel so good. So good..."

Jeongguk lets out a muffled, high whine directly against your core, the high-pitched, needy sound vibrating straight through you. The praise completely undoes him. He sucks a hard, bruising path up your inner lip, his silver piercing scraping perfectly against your most sensitive flesh, pulling a loud, broken sob from your lungs. He is utterly buried in you, his hands gripping the undersides of your thighs so tightly that his bicep muscles bulge under his smooth, tattooed skin. He nuzzles deeper, lapping at your slick heat with a ravenous, worshipful speed, swallowing your whimpers like they are the only thing keeping him alive.

The friction is too much. The intense, deep heat building in your lower stomach is expanding so fast it feels dangerous, blinding you to everything else in the room. You are getting so entirely into it, the overwhelming pleasure clouding your logic until you can't breathe, can't think, can't handle the agonizingly slow burn of just his mouth anymore.

You want him. You want all of him.

With a breathless cry, you pull your hands out of his hair and adjust the position you're in, your palms sliding down his broad chest, past his tensed abs, to the low waistband of his grey sweatpants. Jeongguk senses the shift immediately, his head lifting, his lips glistening, dark hair falling wildly over his wide, blown-out eyes as he looks up at you with a breathless, questioning whimper.

You don't say a word. You simply hook your fingers into the cotton of his sweats and underwear, tugging them down past his hips in one swift, demanding motion.

His cock springs free, thick, heavy, and leaking a bead of pre-cum that glints in the bedroom light. It twitches against his lower stomach, fully erect and radiating a maddening heat. Jeongguk lets out a raw, hitched breath, his hands trembling on your mattress as he hovers over you, completely exposed, his chest heaving as he waits in agonizing suspense for what you're going to do to him next.

You wrap your fingers firmly around the thick, pulsing base of his shaft, the skin scalding hot against your palm. Jeongguk lets out a shaky, pathetic gasp the moment your hand closes around him, his hips twitching forward instinctively. Without giving him a second to recover, you lean forward, parting your lips, and slide the plush, leaking head of his cock straight into your mouth.

He completely loses his mind.

A loud, ragged moan rips from his throat, echoing sharply in the quiet bedroom. You swirl your tongue around the sensitive ridge, catching the slick pre-cum, before sinking your mouth lower, drawing him deeper down your throat. The rich, clean scent of him mixes with the musk of his arousal, entirely consuming your senses. You use your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his shaft, your lips wrapping tight around him to create a fierce, suffocating vacuum as you bob your head in a steady, demanding rhythm.

He throws his head back, hair spilling over his forehead as a continuous string of broken groans and breathless whimpers spills from his parted lips. He doesn't try to hold back, his chest heaving as he watches you through hooded, blown-out eyes, his silver piercing catching the light every time his jaw slacks.

"Ah, God, Y/N," he pants, his voice cracking with pure, unadulterated worship. His large, tattooed hand flies to your hair, but he doesn't push you down—he just cradles your head with a trembling, gentle grip, completely submissive to your pace. "You're so perfect. Look at you... fucking hell, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Please, you're destroying me."

The praises are heavy, thick with a devotion that makes your chest ache. He’s praising you in a way you've never been praised before, treating your mouth like a sanctuary, completely unbothered by his own ego. You take him deeper, your thumb rubbing over his balls, and the combination makes his hips roll blindly against your lips, a low, desperate whine vibrating in his chest.

The edge is getting too sharp for him. The friction of your wet mouth and the agonizingly sweet torture of the rhythm has him shaking from head to toe. His fingers tighten in your hair, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps as he feels himself reaching a dangerous point of no return.

He suddenly pulls back just enough to slip his cock from your lips, a heavy string of saliva connecting you for a fraction of a second. Jeongguk hovers over you on his knees, his entire body trembling, his face flushed a dark, beautiful red as he looks down at your wet, swollen lips.

"I can't—I can't just take," he begs, his voice breaking completely as he drops his forehead against your chest, his chest heaving against your skin. He is entirely undone, crying out as his hands slide down to grip your hips, physically pulling you back down onto the mattress. He positions himself right between your soaked, aching thighs, the heavy head of his cock rubbing torturously against your wet core. "Please, Y/N. I need to be inside you. Please let me come home. Please let me inside."

A dark, heady rush of power floods your veins as you look down at him. Seeing the man who fills stadiums worldwide reduced to a trembling, pleading mess right under you is intoxicating. You smirk against the flushed skin, your fingers sliding up his damp neck to tilt his face up.

"Put it on then, Koo," you murmur.

You say your consent, and the word acts like a green light. Jeongguk scrambles, blindly fishing a condom from the nightstand drawer—you aren't even paying attention to where he gets it from, your eyes locked onto the sharp, beautiful lines of his tensed muscles as he tears the foil open with his teeth.

His hands are shaking so violently it takes him two tries to roll the latex down his thick, pulsing length.

The moment he’s protected, he doesn't wait. He lines the wet, heavy head of his cock against your slick opening and sinks into you in one deep, agonizingly slow push.

A loud, broken sob rips from your throat as he fills you completely, stretching you out until you're entirely consumed by the sheer size of him. Jeongguk lets out a guttural, trembling groan into the crook of your neck, his large frame collapsing over yours, his full, shirtless weight pinning you into the dark silk sheets.

"Ah, God, Y/N... you're so tight, you're so warm," he whimpers, his voice completely wrecked as he begins to move.

The friction is instant and overwhelming. Jeongguk doesn't fuck you with the practiced, cocky rhythm of a man in control; he fucks you with a desperate, frantic hunger, his hips snapping forward in deep, heavy thrusts that rock the entire bed. He is completely starved for you, his tattooed hand sliding under your lower back to lift your hips higher, taking every single inch you have to offer. The wet, slapping sound of his skin hitting yours echoes in the quiet bedroom, mixed with his continuous, vocal praises.

He’s riding the absolute edge from the very first stroke, the decade of built-up desire making him impossibly sensitive. His breath comes in short, panicked gasps against your ear, his silver lip piercing grazing your pulse point as his pace turns frantic, unhinged.

"I'm gonna—Y/N, I'm close, I can't hold it," he cries out, his voice cracking. He gives three more deep, blind thrusts, his entire body locking up as a low, ragged scream tears from his lungs. He spasms against you, his cock twitching violently inside your walls as he finishes first, spilling himself entirely into the condom.

But he doesn't stop.

Even as his climax ripples through him, leaving him completely overstimulated and trembling, he refuses to pull out. He knows you haven't crossed the line yet. With his jaw clenched and his eyes swimming with tears from the sheer, burning sensitivity of his post-nut state, Jeongguk forces his hips to keep moving.

He whimpers miserably with every single stroke, the friction against his overstimulated skin clearly driving him crazy, but he keeps pushing inside you anyway.

"I've got you," he pants, a high, needy whine breaking from his lips as he drags his body up and down yours, his movements slower now, heavier, grinding his pelvis right against your clit with agonizing precision. "I'm not stopping... please, baby, come for me. Let me feel you clamp down on me. Please."

The sight of him pushing through his own overstimulation just to please you completely shatters whatever restraint you have left. Your internal walls collapse. Your hips begin to roll frantically against his, your toes curling into the silk sheets as the tight coil in your lower stomach snaps.

You scream his name as a violent, crushing orgasm ripples through your body. Your internal muscles clamp down tightly around his thick shaft, milking him through the latex. Jeongguk lets out a loud, pathetic whimper at the tight squeeze, his forehead dropping heavily onto your shoulder as he rides out the wave of your climax with you, completely spent, completely yours.

He collapses right besides you, his massive, shirtless frame molding perfectly against you as he pulls you into his chest. Both of your chests are heaving in the quiet room, the only sound the ragged asymmetry of your breathing slowing down. Jeongguk nuzzles his face into your hair, tracing his plush, swollen lips along your jawline before kissing you tenderly on the cheek—a soft, lingering pressure that feels entirely detached from the frantic, consuming chaos of just moments ago.

You lie there, the cool air of the bedroom hitting your bare skin where his body isn't pinning you down. The reality of what just happened begins to settle into your bones, the heavy fog of pleasure lifting to reveal the massive, uncharted territory you’ve both just stepped into.

"Jeongguk," you breathe out, your voice still a little raspy. You turn your head slightly, trying to look at him. "We should talk about it. About... us. What this means."

He lets out a soft, tired groan, burying his face deeper into your neck. His large, tattooed arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you so close there isn't a single millimeter of space left between you.

"We will," he promises, his low rumble vibrating right against your skin. "I promise we’ll talk about everything you want. Just... please let me enjoy this moment for a second. Let me just hold you."

You agree, nodding your head slightly against his chest, but you are visibly lost in your thoughts. Your eyes trace the unfamiliar contours of his bedroom, the dark silk sheets, the heavy shadows on the wall. The anxiety hasn't completely vanished, it's just waiting on the periphery, whispering questions about tomorrow, about his career, about the fragile ten-year foundation you just risked.

As if sensing the sudden shift in your energy, Jeongguk shifts. He props himself up on one elbow, hovering over you just enough to look down into your face. His eyes are incredibly soft, completely clear of the tequila from last night and the blinding lust from minutes ago. He reaches up, his gentle thumb tracing your cheekbone, wiping away a stray bead of sweat.

"Hey," he murmurs, his piercing catching the soft light. He looks at you with an unwavering certainty that makes your heart skip a beat. "I’m going to make sure nothing goes south. I promise you. I love you, Y/N."

Hearing the words spoken so clearly, without a drop of alcohol or adrenaline to hide behind, makes the last of your defenses crumble.

"I love you too," you whisper back.

He smiles—a genuine, boyish grin that reminds you exactly of the teenager you met a decade ago—and pulls you back down against him. As you nuzzle your nose deep into the warm, clean-scented crook of his neck, listening to the steady, unshakeable beat of his heart beneath your cheek, the frantic thoughts in your mind finally begin to quiet down.

Maybe the logic didn't matter. Maybe, against all odds, it really was going to be okay.

[sandmandaddy69]

[get-thee-to-a-shrubbery]

[ferret-on-pancakes]

[its-your-mind]

[miteistic]

[nick-nonya]

[cleanedupcorporationprogress]

[boothyghost]

[all-save-challenge]

I love this post especially the rat part

going on me feed

[trolleybusaberrations]

what do you mean there are exactly zero rats i. this post

[bingle-official]

[primordialsoupvendor]

[shower-thoughts-last-responder]

[cthoseris]

[i-point-out-iambic-pentameter]

i love how tumblr users peg like dolls

is iambic pentameter!

[portraitoftheoddity]

The problem with having OCs is that sometimes you wanna read about your little guy being in situations but unfortunately he is YOUR little guy and no one is gonna put him in that situation but you. Tragic.

[ohhowjooniewept]

ex husband jungkook x ex wife y/n

fluff, angst, smut, yearnnnnniiinnngggggg

25k>

—

life was supposed to go forward the way you had always been told.

find someone, fall in love, get married, have kids.

that was the formula - the routine of every day life that you, yourself, had agreed to. it was supposed to be easy and carefree, the type of love that felt natural and yet definite. it was supposed to be certain.

jeon jungkook.

the love of your life. no one, nothing, could compare to him; the one constant in your life since you were no older than five. two years older than you, he had been the object of your infatuations even then, and though you both harboured a crush on one another as you grew up, it was only when you were 14 that you both actually pursued something.

you both came from broken homes, with your parents entangled in the world of drugs and abuse, his absent more times than present. you had each other though, and that was all either of you had ever really needed - that much had been true for years. it didn’t take long to fall in love with him, not when he treated you like blooming flowers in the first touch of spring; you were more than just his girl. you were his y/n.

no one blinked when he proposed, everyone half expecting it, and neither of you had wanted to wait to plan a lavish wedding when you were both the only constants in each other’s lives. and so, with cheap rings, a random dress you had found at the bottom of your wardrobe and his scuffed shoes - you had become husband and wife.

jungkook was the best partner you could have ever asked for. money was tight in the beginning as he threw himself into his job, making sure he had enough to spoil you rotten even if that meant coming home exhausted. it killed you to see him working so hard, but he never complained, not even once. it was done in the pursuit of his sweet wife, and therefore just.

he quickly began climbing the ranks, his intelligence unmatched, his speed and efficiency making him a force to be reckoned with. in a mere seven years, he had managed to go from the lowest ranking worker in the company right to head office, before formally being announced as ceo.

it was unheard of. people like him, people like you, they didn’t live like this. it felt like over night your entire life had changed, as the tiny, one bed apartment transformed into a penthouse suite in your city’s most reputable area, your beaten down car now more lavish than you could ever dream of. your clothes - silks, linens and luxurious patterns. you were a changed woman, all at the hands of your husband.

that was when the cracks had began to form.

the late nights began, jungkook holed up in his office for far longer than anyone else at the company, stacks of paper all around as he tried to crack numbers before the next day could bring its own workload. you didn’t mind at first, more so worried over anything else.

you packed late dinners, going up to his office and eating them with him just to keep him company, to ground him which he needed more than you could ever realise. he would sit you on his lap as he worked, all whilst you napped peacefully on his shoulder as though this was perfectly normal.

the first few months, it worked. after that, it could no longer hide the gaping hole that had begun to appear.

missed dinners. missed dates. jungkook showing up at two in the morning despite everyone else going home at five in the afternoon - this wasn’t normal. wasn’t healthy. the amount of arguments that were being caused due to his workaholic nature was alarming, especially considering neither of you had ever even raised your voices to one another prior to this.

your heart was getting heavier and heavier.

not because you doubted his love for you - that wasn’t even a question in your mind, that much was certain. if anything, jungkook loved you too much, entirely and wholly, with every single decision made in his life somehow tracing back to you in one way or another. whether it was purchasing things, buying them with the intent of impressing you, making you happy or smile. every opportunity, every signed contract, every bastard fucking meeting that he could feel so deeply in his bones was done with the intention of giving you a life so soft you would never experience hardship again.

that was where the problem lay.

jungkook didn’t know how to love in a way that could nurture your relationship through this, and so, he did the only thing he could. he sacrificed.

slowly, painfully, the realisation that somewhere between the neglect, the late nights and unanswered phone calls, your husband had stopped being your husband at all. he had become a mere ghost in your shared home.

the night you had made your decision was one that felt imprinted in your memory.

it was past midnight, the harsh light of your phone reminding you with each passing moment. the rain was harsh too, with it being the middle of autumn, causing you to curl deeper into the covers on your bed but it did nothing to chase the cold away. dinner had long gone cold downstairs, with your housekeeper giving you a long, sad look before leaving to her own home, patting you on the shoulder in comfort.

your heart hurt so fucking much.

your phone was untouched, with messages sent hours prior despite the lack of response.

‘where are you?’

‘are you coming home tonight?’

‘jungkook, you promised.’

‘i miss you.’

you felt pathetic. humiliation ran up and down your veins at the thought of having to beg for a morsel of attention from your husband, but what else were you supposed to do? what else could you do? loneliness had a tendency to do that to people.

the sound of the front door finally opening had your eyes looking up, no longer staring into space, thinking. overthinking.

jungkook finally stumbled in, hours and hours late, shoulders tense and black coat half wet due to the rain outside. his phone had died hours ago, and his brain was a jumble of numbers and stakeholders, still muttering under his breath over something one of his colleagues had said. he was exhaustion personified.

“baby.” he exhaled deeply upon the sight of you still up.

1:47am.

you stared at him, unable to focus on anything in particular as your reddened eyes somehow glinted in the moonlit essence of the room. his heart ached.

“you missed it again.” you whispered, barely audible.

another dinner sat cold. jungkook had noticed it on his way up, muttering a small fuck under his breath, but seeing you now? something had changed, something was different and the sight scared him to death.

“i know, i..”

“you said you’d be home for six.”

“i know baby, i’m so sorry, we had an emergency shareholders meeting and it was just..fuck.”

“it’s always an emergency.” you muttered bitterly.

the silence that followed felt suffocating to you both.

he carefully placed his things at the door before approaching you slowly, as though you were a wounded fawn struck by an arrow from his own back - it was his fault. he knew that, he could see it.

“i’m trying.” he whispered softly, as he crouched to meet your eyes.

that was the worst thing of all - of course he was trying. you knew he was, you could see it in every single thing he did but that was the part that made it so much more painful. it was unbearable.

tears burned harshly behind your eyes, lip openly trembling as you stared at the only man to have ever felt your affection, the love of your life. the same man that would set himself on fire just to keep you warm, who had done this all for you - even you knew that but, the pain. you weren’t sure when loving him had started to hurt this badly.

“i don’t need..i don’t want any of this, jungkook.” you corrected as your voice cracked, hands gesturing to the too large room. “don’t care about penthouses or cars, or money..”

“it’s not about that.”

“then what is it about?” you cried, months and months of neglect finally collapsing all at once. “because i’m losing you anyway.”

the devastation that appeared on his face would have floored you on any other occasion, but the horrible feeling that had taken over was consuming you from the inside out. you couldn’t rid yourself of your thoughts, the looming decision that had grown and grown and grown, so much so that it felt bigger than you in both mind and body. you couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to.

“i feel so lonely.” you admitted honestly, a broken sob leaving your lips. “you’re all i have..all i’ve ever had and i feel lonely.”

the words physically wounded him as he felt his own tears begin to form, a horrible realisation fluttering through his body - this wasn’t fixable. he could see it now, the utter pain in your eyes, the way your body shook as you cried, and though he was crouched in front of you, arms wrapping around you; it wasn’t enough.

“i’ll fix this. i’ll fix this, fuck. y/n..” he shook, holding you so tightly, his heart beating out of his chest. “give me time. give me a chance. give me something, give me anything.”

you only cried harder at his words, collapsing entirely as the sobs racked through your body violently. you knew he meant it, knew he meant every single word, and you genuinely believed it too but you were tired.

so, so tired.

you knew that the love between you, no matter how deep, could not survive on patched up apologies and promises no longer.

the separation happened three weeks later.

perhaps that was too cruel of you - you should have given him more time, more chances, another opportunity to prove himself to you so he could actually begin repairing something that had already long collapsed before he had ever realised the damage. staying felt too painful, as though you were prodding delicate skin with a million sharpened blades. for once in your entire existence, you chose yourself.

you hated yourself for it.

you could no longer survive off of the memories of who your husband had once been, the once sweet teenage boy who slept on the streets with you just so you’d feel safe from the grasps of your parents. the man who had ran home to tell you about his promotion, who then sobbed in your arms at the mere prospect of getting to give you the life you deserved. oh, how each and every fibre of your being yearned for him, how it knew him by breath alone and yet it wasn’t enough. nothing could possibly hurt more.

packing your things nearly killed him. you remembered it vividly.

jungkook stood silently in the doorway of your shared bedroom, watching numbly, as though his soul had left his entire body as you packed up remnants of a life once shared with him. cardboard boxes were filled with your books, your makeup, your silly trinkets you had acquired together - the sight of you crying as you packed your wedding album so delicately was enough to have him bite back his own sob, shaking his head at the reality of the situation.

he hadn’t stopped you. it was the worst part.

jungkook was intimidating to most; hardened by his life experiences and the struggle he had been raised in, his only priority for the past decade being you. you didn’t like to go into his work, knowing he was quite literally a different person there - efficient, yes, but also ruthless. and yet, he stood, watching you as though his eyes couldn’t comprehend the scene in front of him, tears wiped harshly from his face in fear that it would only upset you more.

even in moments like this, he put you first.

his hands sat caged on either side of him, as you sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. he wanted nothing more than to pick you up, cradle you, cherish you the way he so desperately wanted but in his love for you came your happiness. he was a man devoted to you, and he couldn’t cage you somewhere you no longer felt happy staying - he loved you too much to ever do that.

the divorce proceedings were somehow so much worse.

the media frenzy surrounding jeon jungkook, the elusive ceo who was known for his mysterious persona and dark eyes, was quite literally unbearable. the sudden separation exploded all over the tabloids and the internet, with headlines appearing faster than either of you could keep up with. the hate was too much, to which jungkook stepped in to silence everyone behind the scenes, throwing an insane amount of money at journalists to keep your name out of their filthy mouths. wife or not, you were one half of him and he’d be damned if you were spoken of in anyway that wasn’t praiseworthy.

you couldn’t even look at him during the hearings.

god, you tried. you wanted to, managing to sneak little glances where you caught him already staring at you, despair all over his face, but you couldn’t handle it, tears streaming out of your eyes almost immediately. he knew you loved him. he could see it, clear as day.

he looked sick, as though he hadn’t eaten for weeks, the mere sight of you enough to sustain him until the next meeting, where your feet lightly brushed against one another underneath the table in a subconscious way.

he barely spoke, only choosing to actually speak when he was asked a question, but other than that, he spent his time in the meetings staring at you longingly. he’d whisper a soft “don’t cry” whenever he’d see you tear up, your lip quivering each time you snuck a glance over, despite knowing it was breaking you.

he signed everything over to you immediately. his lawyers had practically choked, eyes wide as he silenced them almost harshly for even suggesting anything otherwise, your own eyebrows pulling together as you tried to reject. you didn’t want his money, you didn’t want what he had worked so hard for.

the penthouse, the cars, the accounts. every. fucking. thing.

“jungkook..” you had whispered through tears at the table, addressing him for the first time in so long. “i don’t want any of this, it’s yours. you’ve worked so hard.”

hearing you was enough to provide the energy he had been lacking, the very blood in his bloodstream pumping harder as he shook his head at you, offended.

“i got those things for you. it never belonged to me..was always yours.” he whispered back, causing you to look down with another choked sob.

it was the final hearing that truly cemented the empty hole inside of you.

your hands shook violently, so much so that you were unable to pick up your pen and sign away your marriage, the one thing you needed to do to finally let him go. everyone in the room frowned as they watched you, face flooded with tears as your digits simply refused, as though your body rejected the notion as being entirely unnatural. they all felt pity for you, for both of you - you both were clearly in love, and they couldn’t understand the gravity of the situation between you.

jungkook had stood from his side of the table, walking over to you until his hand had softly encapsulated your own, your quiet sobs only growing harsher at the feel of the one person you had been craving for so long. he held it, guiding you to your own, helping you write your name on the dotted line despite every part of his body aching.

ex-husband.

the thought should have killed you.

once it was signed, he held onto your hand, too scared to let go as the documents were taken, your lawyers and his slowly leaving the room, leaving you be. you should have let go, should have pushed him away as he no longer had any tie to you - you weren’t married, you weren’t together. alas, the thought felt sacrilegious.

instead, he knelt, knees hitting the hardened floor below you as your red eyes met his properly. entirely.

“i’ll fix this.” he promised you, voice no longer shaking, as you could hear the depth of his promise to you. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby, but you’ll come back to me. i’ll come back to you better, i’ll be worthy. i promise you, y/n.” he whispered.

another sob climbed up your throat, mean and harsh, as your body collapsed against the chair you were sat in, your emotion taking a complete hold over you.

because even then, after everything, you knew his words to be true. you knew home would be waiting.

—

eight months had passed now, and soon came the first touch of summer. the bleak sky had become brighter, clouds hibernating and birds chirping as the world became warmer, accommodating for the transition into what most would describe as a joyous time. unfortunately for you, your body was still recovering from what could only be described as the most traumatic stage of your life thus far.

everything felt unnatural and wrong - you were trying to keep up despite it moving a million miles around you.

even after all this time, your stomach still dropped whenever you’d see anything that referred to him as your ex husband, as though your mind and heart needed a moment to catch up. how could jungkook ever simply become an ex anything to you?

he had existed in your life for so long that removing him felt akin to ripping a vital organ out of your body, all whilst expected to function entirely normally. how could you? you suppose you were failing, really, with the way you moved through life out of necessity instead of want.

the tabloids loved him now more than ever. it was the paradox of tragedy, you assumed, as you knew how badly the world yearned for a broken hearted lover.

the youngest ceo in the country’s history, a billionaire bachelor - the elusive businessman was on the top of every social hierarchy, whilst people spoke about you in hushed whispers. the only woman to have ever gotten away. who were you? why did you leave? why did he leave you with so much?

he had become so much colder after the divorce, and people picked up on it like rats with forgotten food.

the media had always labelled him as an intimidating man, but now, there was no way of denying it. there was something unsettling about the pictures that were being papped of him, your hungry eyes taking him in top to bottom, nibbling your lip - he looked so different. broad shoulders remained the same, but he seemed bigger, no doubt taking out his pain in the gym. it was the look in his eyes, however, that had your stomach in knots.

he looked dead whilst alive.

jeon jungkook was heartbroken, and the world knew it clear as day.

he had dealt with it the only way he knew how - by burying himself six feet deep into his work, knowing he had nothing to come home to, often times sleeping in his office just so he could ignore the silence of his house.

meanwhile, you had spent the last eight months trying to learn how to exist without him.

the humiliation at first was all you were reminded of, as you realised how deeply you had intertwined into him and vice versa. the silence in your once shared penthouse was so unbearable that you had moved into a tiny two bedroom apartment, using the spare as a storage unit for all of your books. on your nightstand still sat a picture of you both, as you secretly cried over it most nights. you couldn’t even sleep unless you wore one of his hoodies, despite his scent having washed off months ago - it was the comfort of knowing you still had a part of your marriage with you.

you missed him in every small, stupid, awful way imaginable.

the feeling of his hand, heavy and strong, on your thigh as he drove you around. the way he would cage you into any surface he could find just to smother you in kisses, or even the way he would whisper into your ear stupid jokes that had you giggling too loudly for the world to hear.

you missed your husband. you missed jungkook.

everyday you battled with the regret of your choice, especially once you’d see the way his under-eyes had sunken with the lack of sleep and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it out loud. you couldn’t live that way again, not with the neglect - not with your past trauma from your parents.

jungkook knew the gravity of his actions, knew you needed to heal and reason with them before he could come back to you but fuck, it hurt so bad to wait.

sometimes, during your weaker moments, you found yourself searching him into your phone in the dead of night, breathing out an audible sigh of relief at the confirmation he was still openly single. it was pathetic, that much you knew, but it was selfish beyond anything else. so cruel to want the man you left to be alone, simply because he still belonged to you.

you had attempted to rebuild your life slowly, carefully piecing together fragments of yourself that existed before all of this had happened. your days were quieter now, so much lonelier but it was enough to keep your mind from spiralling every second of every waking day.

some habits, however, refused to die.

his contact remained as the only favourited number in your phone, as you spent all of your time rereading old messages, despite it ending in tears. if only you knew he too did the same, with his photo album on his phone his most used app as he stared at you nightly, often falling asleep with your picture shining brightly on his screen.

you still loved him. he loved you even more.

that could never change.

-

the first flowers came on a random tuesday.

you had just experienced one of the worst days you’d had in a while, with a final meeting with one of your clients going to shit after you realised hours of work and designs had somehow corrupted, and then deleted. by the time you had returned home, you were sure the world had seen your teary state, your body heavier than usual.

as you searched your bag for your keys, your eyes peered up, noticing them.

your breath caught.

sitting neatly outside your apartment door. a bouquet, large but elegant - white gardenias. the flowers you had held at not only your wedding, but the ones jungkook would buy you for your anniversary each year.

your flowers.

your chest ached so violently you found yourself gasping for air as your legs gave out below you. you slid down the wall, fingers brushing against the delicate petals as you looked for a note, only to realise there wasn’t one. you didn’t need to see who they were from, only one person knew you well enough and your heart felt like it had been split into two as you took them in.

it wasn’t your anniversary, wasn’t any special kind of occasion, and yet here they were. bright, promising, sweet.

your vision blurred with heavy tears as the painful feeling in your body grew, throat tightening with emotion before reaching out and taking a hold of them, breathing the flowers in openly.

the scent alone was enough to destroy you.

he was everywhere, all of the time - even now. especially now.

the flowers had become a norm, a pattern that was only recognisable to you, and completely deniable to any other person looking in. you were smarter than you looked and you knew what was happening, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to call it out.

your favourite restaurant somehow managing to accommodate you always despite the line or packed out reservations list, or the paparazzi that often bullied you for your attention outside of your home mysteriously disappearing. even your car, that you had dented slightly, appeared in perfect condition as you walked down to go to work one morning, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

your chest bloomed with realisation.

jungkook.

he never appeared himself, no. never. it was unsettling really, the reminder that he was powerful and could have things done with a flick of his wrist - he was sure to never make you privy to it, so you’d always feel like he was the same boy you had met all those years ago. now? he had every intention of showing you the empire he had built for you and you alone. he lingered around you and your life like a floating ghost, invisible but permanent. you truly couldn’t get rid of him even if you tried.

three weeks later is when you felt yourself reaching breaking point.

for the first time in months, you were finally leaving the house to actually do something for fun. your best friend, yejin, who’s husband yoongi was ironically jungkook’s best friend, had forced you to come out for a drink. nothing intense, merely a nice bar where the drinks were smooth and the company was good, with slow jazz playing in the back.

exhaustion was heavy in your bones but you listened, doing your best to make yourself look nice despite how dead you felt inside. a little skirt that felt too short and a top that perhaps plunged too low - yejin had deemed you utterly perfect.

sat at the bar, you sipped your drink, wincing lightly as she yapped away about something her coworker had said. you appreciated how she refused to bring jungkook up, knowing that she couldn’t breach the topic unless you were the one to bring it up yourself. you hated how badly you wanted to, how desperate you were to find out how he was doing.

she filled the air constantly, like she was terrified of what would happen if your mind caught up to the reality of the situation, instead filling it with nonsense to occupy your demanding thoughts.

you let her.

you even found yourself laughing, the feeling and sound so startling that it reduced you to silence for a full minute afterwards as you welcomed the feeling of actual joy for the first time in so long.

you almost didn’t notice the shift in your phone, the slight light radiating from beneath as you had turned it onto its screen earlier in the evening. she, however, paused mid sentence, eyes dropping down to let you know someone was ringing.

nothing could have prepared you for the sight of his name on the screen.

the name, ‘kookie’ with a large, red heart adorned your phone as humiliation rummaged through you at the realisation you had never even bothered to change his name, the concept too painful to come to terms with. however, yejin all but gasped as she turned to you, eyes widened with an almost excitement.

“answer it.” she encouraged, hand on your back. “i’ll watch your drink.”

you weren’t sure what to say, as you nodded, staring down at the screen before shakily sliding off of your seat and heading towards the back entrance, where a smokers area sat empty. your hands shook as you cupped the phone to your chest, taking a seat before looking down at it once more.

he was calling you.

jungkook was fucking calling you.

before you could overthink, you swiped, answering it.

the phone felt hot against your ear, a reminder of what was currently happening as your heart began beating harder than it had in months, your hands shaking. for a second, neither of you spoke.

you could hear faint movement on his end, a shuffling of some sorts before he completely stilled, as though he had pushed everything he was doing to a side at the realisation you had actually answered.

“hi.”

god. your eyes squeezed shut tight almost immediately.

there he was - your jungkook. not the ceo extraordinaire that was plastered on every publication you could find, with dead eyes and a sharp expression. no, this was him. jungkook. your jungkook.

the sound alone nearly brought you to tears. you felt so pathetic.

“hi.” you whispered back, voice cracking.

silence settled again, but not awkwardly. you didn’t think an awkward silence was capable of existing between you, not when your bodies were so intertwined and so aware of one another. the distance between you was unnatural, neither of your minds able to comprehend an eight month hiatus enough to understand that this phone call alone shouldn’t have been happening.

he exhaled slowly, and your shoulders gently relaxed, your eyes closing momentarily as you imagined him. no doubt still at work, in a suit unbuttoned at the shirt, his tie long forgotten. his tattooed hand running through his hair, ruffling it the way you always would.

“you answered.” he broke you out of your thoughts.

your chest tightened painfully at the sheer disbelief in his tone.

“you called.”

a faint huff of amusement left him then, causing you to blink back any emotion that was building in your eyes. it eased you.

“yeah.” he breathed out.

another pause.

you felt so suddenly aware of yourself - your hand reached out to smooth down your hair, adjust your top and skirt, despite knowing he couldn’t see you. it was subconscious, as though the thought of him alone was enough to undo you, but his voice? hearing it after so long, directed at you, for you. yours. it was enough to have you soothed for months.

before you could spiral in your thoughts, he spoke again.

“where are you?”

“out with yejin.”

“mm.” you shivered at his hum. you had no idea he was so undone at the sound of you too. “a bar?”

“yeah.”

“you drinking?”

you rolled your eyes, tongue poking your cheek at his curiosity. some things truly had never changed.

“why?” you asked, and you could almost hear his grin on the other end. “can’t i ask?”

his tone, smooth. familiar. fuck, it did things to you, and you could feel your thighs pressing together just listening to him. secretly, your favourite part of jungkook was how possessive he had always been, and even in moments like this where he hid it under a layer of calmness, you could recognise it instantly.

it reminded you of when he’d ask you whether you had eaten, just before pulling you into his lap, lips attacking the side of your neck hungrily or when he’d tell you to take your medicine, with a slow ‘baby’ and kisses planted to your forehead and cheeks.

“one drink.” you revealed, with a nibble to your lip.

you had no idea that he too was a fucking mess.

jungkook was indeed in his office, with his legs spread, suit jacket and tie somewhere, his shirt unbuttoned a little as he too drank. a cup of whiskey in his hand, his hair a mess as he scoured over your instagram for the millionth time just that day. neither of you were ones to post much, especially considering your accounts were private with only a few people, but he stalked you daily in hopes of a glimpse of you. could you blame him? he was utterly, devotedly in love with you.

a measly divorce couldn’t stop that.

seeing yejin’s story, with your low cut top, and your big eyes showing a sign of life for the first time in months made his heart bloom. it had his cock straining, again, just looking at you, eyes hungrily looking over every inch of you and your soft smile. god, how he had missed it.

he had given you your time. respected your wishes, allowed you eight months of this but enough was enough. the flowers were just the beginning, marking his space back in your life through a promise he had every intention of upholding. he had told you directly he was going to fix this, and you, his sweet, sweet girl had believed him.

he would never let you down again.

“you having fun?”

“why do you wanna know every single detail?” you asked, tone a little harsher than intended but you couldn’t help yourself. this was an ambush on your senses.

he huffed once more, the amusement enough to disarm you.

“because i miss you.”

the words left him so easily that the breath in your lungs completely dissipated, leaving you a statued mess. no hesitation, no shame - pure, devastating honesty.

“you can’t say that, jungkook.” you weakly combatted, the intake of breath on his side of the phone at the sound of his name leaving your mouth enough of an answer for you.

“why not? i can’t miss my wife?” he scoffed lightly at you.

you blubbered for a moment. “i-i am not..i’m not your wife!”

“okay.” he hummed once more.

there was a quiet clink on his end, no doubt picking his drink up and taking a big gulp after abandoning it the second you answered. neither of you spoke for a few more moments, silence now becoming a running theme between you on the call, and yet it was still void of the awkwardness you’d find anywhere else. it was awful how familiar it felt. how comfortable and safe.

your fingers played with the hem of your skirt nervously, unsure if you had been too brash - he was hurting too after all.

“is that top new?”

your breath caught.

“..what?”

jungkook stayed quiet for an extra beat. “your top. haven’t seen that one before.”

heat flooded your cheeks, chest and neck before you could even respond, your lips bitten down as you inhaled shakily.

“how do you know that?” you were ignoring the way your pulse was hammering against your body, trying to feign an air of nonchalance.

at that, he couldn’t help the small grin. “saw you on yejin’s story.” he murmured, quieter now. “look so good. love when you wear pink, baby.”

it wasn’t even the words he had chosen, but more so the way he was saying them. so calm, so certain, so casual as if he wasn’t calling his ex wife baby over a bit of cleavage that was never really meant for his eyes - your blush spreading all over you now.

“jungkook..” you breathed out, shakily.

“what?” he asked innocently, and you could really hear the smile in his voice now. “am i wrong?”

you looked down at your top, nibbling away at your lip to hide the small smile that was beginning to form on your own face, something that you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. your fingers brushed against your stomach, feeling the fabric before tucking a strand behind your hair.

“it’s new.” you admitted softly, heels shuffling slightly on the ground.

the sound he made in response was enough to ruin you. not a laugh, not quite a sigh - something pleased.

he hummed. “so pretty.”

your eyes squeezed shut, and jungkook could feel it. could see it as though you were right in front of him. you were never one to handle a compliment, always going pink and shyly looking away and god, he loved it so much. loved complimenting you in hopes that you would react just like that, just to see you get all flustered.

the feeling in your stomach..it felt so strange. the same one that had haunted you for the past eight months, an unbearable warmth that filled you from your toes to your head, something you craved so desperately from him and him alone. to be noticed, looked at, admired by jungkook was one thing but to be loved by him? it was joy in itself.

you could feel it.

no one had ever loved you quite like he had done, as though every single thing you were capable of was worthy of applause. it terrified you.

“you can’t do this.” your voice came out so much smaller than either of you had expected, changing the entire feel of the call instantly.

as a result, his own tone softened, as though he was dealing with something porcelain.

“do what, baby?”

your heart physically ached.

“talk to me..like nothing happened.”

you felt sick to your stomach, hands gripping your phone and stomach as your eyes shut tight. you wished you hadn’t of said anything, not with the way the silence kissed the air in a way that felt anything but familiar - it hurt. painful in every single way.

for the first time since answering the phone, you could see jungkook properly. could hear him breathing sharply as though your words were both a reminder and an understanding that no matter what, things could never go back to what they once were.

the slight twitch in his cheek, the way his fingers would naturally tighten whenever he was overwhelmed with emotion like he didn’t know where to put it, where to place it in his overworking mind. he had always loved so deeply, your jungkook; just didn’t know where to put it, or how to show it.

when he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter. stripped bare for you, so you could feel him.

“i know what i did.” he admitted softly. “i know i fucked up, and that i failed you as a husband.”

your throat tightened.

outside, rainwater still lingered from earlier, a sickly humidity wrapped into every air particle around you. the scent of lingering cigarette smoke was heavy enough to ground you in that moment as you listened to jungkook speak words neither of you could truly handle hearing, despite how necessary they were. it just hurt so, so badly.

inside the bar, you could hear muffled laughter, people egging one another on for drinks as jazz boomed, your heart easing as you could hear yejin’s voice amongst the crowd, no doubt the life of the party there too.

“then why are you acting like this?” you pathetically asked, lip jutting out in a teary pout. he could almost hear it on you. “you’re talking to me like we’re still together.”

“you’re still mine, y/n.”

your breath hitched violently.

“jungkook-“

“no,” he remained calm, a stark difference between you and him. “you asked me a question, baby, so let me answer it properly.”

the nickname rolled off of his lips so naturally, instinctively, and you hated how easily your body curled closer, almost desperate to hear it whilst he stood in front of you. you had always been putty in his hands, so easily undone with a few pretty words but you’d held back for the past few months for the sake of your boundaries. hearing him so open, so honest - it was fucking you up all over again.

“i know we’re divorced,” he continued before you could interrupt him again. “i know..you’re not my wife anymore, and i know this is my fault. you left because of me and i’ll live with that for the rest of my life.”

his voice cracked by the end of his statement.

“but i won’t sit here and pretend like the last eight months have suddenly erased the past fifteen years of loving you.”

the words shattered you. your delicate, pathetic heart broke once more at his words at the confirmation of what you needed to hear so, so badly.

years of abandonment issues stemming from your parents and friends who had only ever toyed with you meant you had put your all into jungkook, who had only ever put every inch of himself back in - you were a partnership, a welcome duo that made sense to the both of you. watching him pull back, forget you, neglect and abandon your relationship no matter the reason was enough to trigger you in ways that no one could reason with.

it was an intimate form of violence that though was never intended, hurt more than anything he could have ever done to you.

he knew that. he was openly telling you he recognised his faults, his wrong doings - you knew that too. god, you knew him better than anyone alive, and you knew that by leaving him it was the only way for him to understand and see.

“you’re making this so much harder, jungkook.” you whispered out through a flood of tears, your mascara and eyeliner smudging immediately under the slaughter of liquid.

“i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry baby but i need you to hear me, okay? just..i need you to know i’m going to fix this. properly.” he breathed out, desperate now. “i’ve been doing things right this time..gave you space, let you breathe, been working on myself and going to therapy. don’t sleep at the office anymore, did at the start cause i didn’t like coming home but i’m better now.”

therapy?

you knew he held so much trauma with his own parents, his own upbringing, too scared to ever even speak about it if it wasn’t with you but to hear he had actually taken the steps to go forwards with something that put him directly out of his comfort zone was insanity to you. especially when his one and only concern had only ever been your own comfort, even at his expense.

his honesty made you burst out into quiet sobs - a noise he swore was harsh enough to kill him. he breathed out, cooing at you lightly as he shook his head despite you unable to see him, so pained.

jungkook recognised your pain immediately.

“yeah,” he muttered. “turns out working yourself to death because you’re afraid of losing everything after you’ve had a shitty upbringing actually isn’t normal behaviour. who knew?”

despite your heartbroken state, you let out a sincere watery laugh.

the sound hit him like a drug.

he went completely silent after hearing it, replaying it in the forefront of his mind. a greedy, gluttonous side of him climbing out of his very throat as he held it close to his soul, cherishing it - he was a starved man finally being fed.

“there she is.” he breathed. “fuck..missed hearing your laugh.”

you hated how easily you were able to slip back into him.

“jungkook..”

“i mean it,” his tone deepened slightly - more certain, more intentional. “i’m not calling you tonight to confuse you, y/n. i’m not calling because i’m lonely..”

your fingers tightened around the phone once more. “then, why?”

“because i’m getting you back.”

there was no hesitation in his voice, no wariness nor anything other than sheer determination. he sounded firm and a part of that thrilled you, whilst the other half sat scared of what this meant - you couldn’t survive this again, losing him. what if you had changed? what if you weren’t who he thought you were anymore?

“hey, stop it.” he shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. “it’s just me, y/n. it’s just me and you, okay?”

“but what if we can’t do it?” you asked through a teary sob, scuffing your heels on the hard ground. “what if i’m different and what if it’s too hard? i can’t..i won’t survive it..”

silence once more.

“then, we do it slowly.” he whispered, assured, soothing you. no hesitation whatsoever. “i’m not asking you to trust me overnight, baby. i know i fucked that up already.”

your lip trembled, tears streaming so fast you could hardly keep up.

“but i’m here now.”

the words settled so deeply inside of you that it almost hurt. that was all you had wanted all along, was it not? a present husband, the same man that loved you without the frills of money and presents - you wanted jungkook. your jungkook.

you swallowed thickly, knowing it had taken so much of him to even say this to you, so confident as he knew you needed a rock at this moment despite also being emotionally devastated.

two whole minutes of silence stretched between you as you caught your breath, your tears still streaming but your sobs subsiding, allowing for sweet hiccups that he thought were the cutest thing he had ever heard. his mind swam, aching, knowing how needy you were after a cry. he wanted to bundle you up and hold you, kiss you until there were no more thoughts left in that pretty little head of yours, right until you were finally asleep and safe in his arms.

“are you still at work?” you asked softly, breaking the silence and pulling him out of his thoughts.

a small pause.

then, almost amused - “technically..”

“jungkook! it’s late..”

he laughed quietly under his breath, the sound warm enough to blanket you in it.

“finished hours ago, i’ve just been sat here.”

“doing what?”

another pause. slightly charged.

“looking at you.” he murmured.

heat rushed to your face immediately, wiping your under eyes. “what?”

“been stalking your instagram. yejin posted you like half an hour ago too, so..” his voice dropped lower, smoother. more intimate. “haven’t really thought about doing anything since.”

your thighs pushed together involuntarily at the confession, cheeks hinted even darker.

god.

“jungkook.” you chastised with a little sniffle.

“pink was a bad choice, baby.” he grunted slightly. “you know that colour drives me fucking insane on you.”

your eyes squeezed shut. there he was.

not the cold, mysterious ceo that had the world intrigued, nor the tall, hefty man that had most people cowering away as he walked past. no, this was your husband - flirty, affectionate and completely and utterly obsessed with you.

“you’re so ridiculous.” you shook your head through a hiccup, biting back the pathetic small smile that was about to form.

“yeah?” he hummed through a small laugh. “still answered the phone.”

the smile in his voice only had yours growing larger, a small laugh muffled by the back of your hand.

you could hear him moving around now, keys jingling lightly before the sound of a car door opening had your ears peaking up.

“wait,” your eyebrows raised. “are you leaving?”

“mhm.”

“where are you going?”

jungkook grinned. it was your turn to be curious.

“home.”

your smile dropped slightly. home.. that used to be a word that was synonymous with you. your chest ached all over again.

“couldn’t go back there without hearing your voice first.” he admitted quietly.

silence swallowed you whole. the vulnerability in his voice felt far more dangerous than any of the tears you had shed tonight, your fingers continuing to shake around the phone at the mere sound of it. before you could think of a response, he spoke again.

“there’s a gala next friday.”

your stomach tightened as you leaned your head against the wall, already understanding the direction of the conversation.

“jungkook..”

“come with me.”

no hesitation. no uncertainty.

firm, assured, confident. like there had never even been another concept, or thought in his brain - you were the first and only option.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea..”

“probably not.”

the honesty startled a laugh out of you - a real one. on the other side of the phone, jungkook sat in his car, eyes closed, breathing deeply at the sweet sound like he was memorising it. treasuring it so he could replay it over and over and over later when he laid in your once shared bed alone.

“fuck,” he breathed. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed that.”

your eyes burned once more.

“baby,” his tone gentled again, using the pet name you loved so much. “just one night. me and you.”

you wanted to scream, wanted to pull at your hair and jump all at the same time. of course you wanted to say yes, what more could you need? your ex husband so openly telling you he wanted to pursue you with every inch of his body, until he was nothing but yours to mould and shape.

“i’ll think about it.” you replied instead, nibbling away at your lip.

the grin in his voice was immediate.

“that’s my girl.”

—

you couldn’t breathe.

both physically and emotionally, you found difficulty in inhaling air as you looked at yourself in the mirror, yejin somewhere in the room finding accessories for you to wear all whilst you blinked rapidly.

the dress, although beautiful, felt too tight.

your hands shook on either side of you as she approached you, holding up a delicate diamond necklace you recognised as an anniversary gift jungkook had gotten you but never quite found the chance to wear. your eyes were unfocused as she clasped it onto your neck, watching the way it fell so softly against soft skin, as though it had been curated for you and you alone.

“you need to breathe, y/n.” she suddenly murmured behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both stared at you in the mirror.

pale pink satin - not bright in anyway, but a sweet kiss of your favourite colour adorned your body in floor length, tight fitting dress. you were the embodiment of elegance as the fabric draped over your curves, all whilst cinching perfectly at your waist, allowing for a pretty silhouette. not only did you look the part for a charity gala, you had exceeded any expectation anyone would ever have for you thanks to your best friend’s styling.

“dress is tight.” you simply whispered back, hardly recognising yourself.

your makeup matched your dress. glowy and pink with soft blush dusted onto your cheeks, glossy lips puckered and sweet. your hair fell in waves and for the first time in a very long time, you felt utterly beautiful.

the problem, however, was in the circumstance itself.

you were about to see jungkook for the first time since you had officially walked away from your marriage and the thought had kept you up all week. you weren’t sure what you were thinking actually saying yes to his invitation, calling him to tell you would come only for him to audibly huff out of joy. he was like a child in a candy shop but you couldn’t help but wonder if he harboured the same anxiety.

it was heavy in your stomach as you stared at yourself. pink was your favourite colour, and he loved it on you. did you look pretty enough? all eyes would be on you both tonight, given the nature of your relationship and the almost celebrity like status that had been awarded to the two of you.

all in all, it was his face that had you nibbling your bottom lip in thought. there wasn’t a night where you left his name unsearched in your internet browser, desperate to see what he looked like in that current moment but seeing him in purpose was a whole different playing field.

you loved him in suits - a fitting joy that was awarded to you constantly given his occupation. the way his shoulders would fill out the material so nicely, the way his shirt would stretch over his chest and the way darker colours only brought out the darkness in his eyes - it was your personal kryptonite. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to think, behave even, once you caught got sight of him.

“hey, y/n, look at me.” yejin pulled you out of your thoughts, soft hands pulling at your jaw. “it’s just jungkook. you know him better than anyone, okay? you’re all good.”

you nodded, though you continued to blink at her rapidly. “s’just been so long and..i don’t know..i’m scared. is that weird?”

she offered a sad smile. “it’s been eight months of healing, babe. that love doesn’t just go away and from what you told me, this is a step in the right direction. just gotta let him in.”

before you could respond, the sound of the doorbell blared through the apartment, making you look up to where the door sat on the other side. if you thought your heart had been beating fast before, you were sure you were on the edge of passing out now as yejin mumbled a quick ‘that’ll be him’ beside you.

oh god. oh god. oh god.

the dress felt too tight around your ribs.

your hands smoothed down the satin again despite having done it what felt like a million times already, fingers tips trembling over expensive fabric as your breathing came out shallow. you hated this - hated the fear of it all when it was jungkook on the other side of the door. your jungkook.

eight months. eight whole months and your body still knew him better than your mind was ready to let on.

“y/n.” yejin practically cooed at you, assuring you with a hand on your back. “breathe.”

you nodded quickly, though it went in one ear and out the other.

the intercom buzzed again, impatient time.

ironically, it was this that had your shoulders slumping softly, your shortness of breath slowly soothing as you realised the familiarity of the situation. of course jungkook would buzz twice - it was a telltale sign of his own anxiety, something you could recognise from a mile away. knocking twice, calling your name twice, checking the front door before bed twice.

it was just jungkook.

“okay.” you whispered to yourself.

you turned, more determined now you knew he was in the same state as you, as your heels clicked on the floor of your much smaller apartment, the noise loud enough for him to hear from the outside. each step felt heavier the closer you got, but there sat an anticipation in you that had you almost desperate to see him.

your hand finally wrapped around the handle before you opened the door.

and there he was.

god.

for a moment, your brain completely malfunctioned.

jungkook stood in your hallway beneath the almost dingy apartment lighting, one hand wrapped around a large bouquet of flowers you recognised to be the ones he had been gifting you with continuously for the past few weeks, and every anniversary. white gardenias.

your eyes fell onto them immediately with a strangled gasp, all whilst taking him in, your heart beating out of your chest as you felt almost faint at the sight of him.

a black suit.

the material stretched perfectly across his too broad shoulders and narrow waist, expensive to the eye as you could tell it had been tailored to fit him exactly. the contrast between the white shirt underneath was utterly delicious, and memories of pulling open buttons under heated exchanges flooded your eyes.

his hair was styled almost messily which you immediately recognised as his hands having ran through them, no doubt due to his anxiety - you wanted to pull at his locks, wanted to feel them against your fingers.

it was his face, however, that hurt to look at.

he looked healthier than most of the pictures you had seen over the span of the past few months, with warm in his cheeks, a slight dazed look in his eyes. still tired, with purple underneath his eyes indicating his lack of sleep, still carrying traces of heartbreak you knew you had placed there.

god.

jungkook looked every bit of the man you were in love with.

and here he stood, staring at you like he had just seen heaven open up right in front of him.

neither of you could look away from one another, as his eyes dragged over you slowly, inch by inch. your hair, your neckline that dipped lower than he was used to seeing, your manicure, your beautiful face. jungkook couldn’t fathom that you had once belonged to him, the pain of the past eight months surfacing as it gripped him by the throat like a vice - he had lost you?

you watched his throat bob.

his eyes met yours, the first time in what felt like a lifetime, and neither of you really knew what to do. how was it that the man you had known most of your life, the one constant, felt like a stranger in that moment? it was like you were discovering him again, an opportunity to relearn him presented to you and you took it with both hands.

he let out a shaking breath, one that had your cheeks flushing as he extended his arm, presenting the large bouquet for you.

“you look beautiful.” he whispered, voice struggling almost as you continued to watch his adam’s apple almost entranced.

with a shy thank you, you held them close to your chest, breathing in the familiar scent that brought you so much comfort.

your chest had eased now you were finally looking at him, now that he was actually in your space - the worst was over. you almost felt ridiculous for being worried about seeing him when it was just jungkook. eight months couldn’t erase that familiarity.

the hallway suddenly felt too small. too warm, too intimate; you felt like you were being caved in by his mere presence and for a moment you wondered if you needed breath at all.

you simply stood there, clutching the flowers delicately to your chest as though they meant something so much more than what anyone else could assume all whilst jungkook looked at you like you were the first beautiful thing he had seen in months.

his eyes couldn’t leave your face.

it should have made you uncomfortable, the intensity of his stare, but your body reacted the way it had always done when you were near him. you were inching closer without even realising it, him doing the same until you were looking up, head angled and his downwards, head bent to admire you properly.

“hi.” you whispered again.

the size difference between you had never been more apparent until then, what with all of his strenuous visits to the gym these past few months. he had always towered over you, but it was different now - his already wide chest and broad shoulders engulfed you, his biceps on either side of him enough to have you wanting him in a way that certainly was not becoming of an ex wife.

it’s like he could read your thoughts, with the way he inched closer to you, until your bodies were openly brushing against each other faintly. material on material, fabric kissing fabric. you wished you could feel him on your skin.

the sound of your voice had lulled him gently as he dipped his head down lower so you could properly see him, despite your head back to look at him.

“hi, baby.”

your stomach flipped violently.

there it was again. baby. fuck.

as though the divorce papers were fickle, representing a momentary lapse of judgement instead of a ruling decision. like he still woke up beside you every morning and ruined your cheeks with kisses before falling in between your thighs.

the dazed look on your face didn’t go unnoticed.

before you could even respond, yejin appeared behind you with the biggest smile she could possibly muster.

“oh my god,” she squeaked dramatically. “you both look insane!”

jungkook blinked, momentarily pulled from the emotional spiral you were both taking part in as he straightened slightly, despite still being awfully close to you. your cheeks heated at the sound of her voice, jumping a little in shock, causing you to brush against him faintly.

“hi, yejin.”

“don’t hi yejin me.” she narrowed her eyes dangerously. “if she cries tonight, i’ll kill you.”

“yejin!” you flushed red.

jungkook, however, allowed for a soft smile, nodding once. “fair.”

the sheer sincerity of it made the room go quiet, your eyes meeting his once more. you knew though it was a passing comment, he truly meant it - he’d let her kill him if it meant you’d hurt less.

your chest tightened all over again.

yejin seemed to realise it too, her teasing expression softening at the both of you. idiots in love, both too cautious to know what the correct next step was - thank god she loved to meddle.

“okay! you’re both gonna be late so hurry up.” she hummed, turning you and looking over you for any last minute touch ups. “i’ll take these. i’ll show myself out.”

with a cheeky wink, she all but pushed you backwards towards jungkook where your back gently brushed against his front. she had taken the flowers, shoved your clutch in your hand and shut the door in your face, all after giving you a big grin.

he didn’t move from behind you, despite you turning to properly face him. the two of you stared at one another openly, eyebrows pulling together - you could see it happening in real time, the way his body curled at the mere feel of you. to be so close to you, touching you; it was out of a far away dream.

you felt it too - god, you could feel it in your veins. the horrifying wave of unashamed want that filtered through you so naturally, your body knew him. your body recognised your husband.

your man.

his restraint was palpable. you could see it in the way his fingers flexed on either side of him, almost twitching as muscle memory surfaced from deep inside of him. for years touching you had been second nature, with a hand on your waist, fingers lifting your chin, arms around your figure to hold you up for a kiss.

now he looked almost tortured as he realised he no longer knew what he was allowed to do.

the realisation alone softened you.

“we should go.” you whispered up at him gently, though your voice lacked any real conviction.

jungkook stared at you, offering a small nod almost obediently despite the stark hunger in his eyes.

“yeah.” he cleared his throat. “yeah, okay.”

he stepped back and first; the distance was felt immediately.

you suddenly missed the warmth that radiated off of him, fingers faintly tugging on his suit jacket so gently you weren’t even aware you were doing it. what the fuck was wrong with you? one touch and you were already spiralling into him again like the last eight months had never happened.

jungkook noticed. of course he did.

his chest visibly expanded from beneath the expensive material, eyes darkening so suddenly you felt heat up and down your spine. the way he looked at you had emotion swirling in your stomach, so hungry. so devoted.

you slowly released him, blinking rapidly as though you’d only just realised what you’d done.

“sorry.” you whispered instinctively.

jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed together in offence.

“don’t apologise for touching me.” his voice came out firmer than expected, low. far too intimate given the apartment hallway you were in.

the silence that followed felt thick enough to choke on, neither of you making an effort to move despite knowing you were bordering on being late. the tension was so unbearable now that you were both alone, freely staring at one another after so much time apart - no yejin to soften the edges. just fifteen years worth of tension, want and need all accumulated between you.

his eyes flickered downwards as he watched you sway slightly.

“your heels are insane.” he muttered softly.

you blinked. “hm?”

“you’re already wobbling.”

offended, your mouth gaped. “i am not wobbling!”

jungkook let out a small huff of amusement, loving how easy it was to rile you up. the sound completely disarmed you, seeing a glimpse of the same jungkook you had been with all of your life.

“you almost fell walking out of the door.” he teased, with a tilt to his head downwards at you.

“i did not!” you shook your head with a small swat to his chest. he only let out another laugh. “you literally grabbed onto me.”

“that..doesn’t count, okay?”

“mm.” amusement stretched over his face, as he led you to the staircase, cautious to be slow as he watched you continue to slightly wobble due to the uneven surface of the hallway. “sure.”

before you could even think of a rebuttal, you watched jungkook look down the multiple staircases with a slight frown before turning to you. he suddenly bent at the knees, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for no longer than two seconds before one arm slid below your knees and the other around your back.

your gasp echoed.

“jungkook!”

he lifted you bridal style effortlessly, as though you weighed truly nothing to him.

your hands immediately flung to the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders in shock as your body felt more of him than it had done in what felt like eons. jungkook’s hands were so much bigger than yours, and you could feel him everywhere all at once, enough to have you dizzy with a sense of want.

“what are you doing?!” you whispered harshly, eyes blown wide as he sorted you on one single arm, checking his phone for the time with the other. it was beyond easy.

jungkook merely looked down at you calmly, entirely unbothered despite the way you could feel his pulse hammering below your fingertips.

“preventative measures. can’t have you slipping down the stairs.”

you stared at him in disbelief. “you can’t just pick me up!”

he scoffed a little, as though your words were going in one ear and out the other. your comfort came first, that much was ingrained in him and even you couldn’t stop him when it came to that.

he walked down the stairs as though it was the most natural thing in the world, one hand spread wide against your back, claiming whilst the other was hooked under your thighs, making sure you were as comfortable as possible against him. your dress was draped so beautifully over his arm that anyone who would have caught you in that moment would have remarked, ironically, how bridal you looked.

you couldn’t believe how safe he felt.

jungkook noticed the second you relaxed into him. properly.

“missed carrying you.” he admitted quietly as he descended another step.

your entire body burned. “jungkook.” you breathed weakly, though there was no real warning behind your tone.

“what?” he hummed innocently. “s’true.”

you remembered almost fondly - it was the one thing you probably missed more than anything else. he would carry you everywhere - from the bed to your bath, to the couch after you’d woken up, through grocery stores just to hear you squeak in embarrassment. one time he had held you for an hour straight, walking you home after a date just because your feet hurt.

and now, here you were again, tucked into his chest as though it was home. you supposed it was.

your heart ached so violently at the memory that looking up at him through your lashes had your brain whizzing too fast for you to keep up with.

“you’ve gotten so much bigger.” you whispered almost shyly before you could stop yourself, already tucked into him too comfortably.

big mistake.

his heart truly nearly fucking stopped. his head snapped down at you almost instantly, eyes darkening so visibly it had you avoiding any contact, instead focusing your gaze on his clothed pecs.

“yeah?” he asked slowly.

your cheeks were flushed dark, realising how that may have sounded.

“just..got broader.” you clarified through another whisper, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment.

“been working out a lot more.” he murmured down at you, ducking his head a little so that he could meet your eyes, a small smile forming.

you nibbled your lip with a little nod, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair.

jungkook knew you loved the size difference between you, but it truly didn’t compare to how fucked it made his mind go. it was the first thing he had noticed when you opened the door again - how despite your heels, you were still so much shorter. it drove him insane, especially now that he was bigger. feeling you curled into his chest like this, all safe and protected, it made him feel wanted. to have you notice it, address it even so shyly; fuck. it ruined him.

by the time he had reached the bottom floor, your cheeks were still heated, dreading the fact he would have to let you go when all you wanted was to curl into him even deeper. to think ten minutes ago you had so much anxiety when now, he was actively conversing with you all whilst carrying you, it felt euphoric.

the driver stood outside of the car, the same man who drove you both to events when you were still together. your eyes widened a little as you watched him open the back door for you both, all whilst you were still leisurely held in his arms.

your embarrassment returned instantly.

“put me down!” you hissed quietly.

jungkook looked at you, unaffected. “why?”

“because your driver is literally staring at us, jungkook!”

the poor man looked away with a growing smile. he had missed seeing his boss so carefree, knowing that he was only like this when the situation pertained to you.

he smirked faintly. “he’s driven us around for years, baby. pretty sure he’s seen us do a lot worse.”

your mouth fell open, swatting his chest. “jungkook!”

that finally earned you a proper smile, brief but enough to knock the very air out of your lungs, your too large eyes drinking it in almost desperately. he was so handsome it hurt, and it wasn’t until now you realised how much you had missed his smile.

carefully, he gently lowered you to the ground, making sure you were comfortable on your feet.

his hands lingered. neither of you moved.

your faces were suddenly so close once more as your hands had slid down from his neck, but remained in contact, fingers digging into his chest faintly to feel him. the city noise faded around you and into the background as he looked down at you with an emotion that could only be classed as longing.

“you good?” he asked softly.

you nodded too quickly. “mhm.”

liar.

his eyes dropped to your lips once more, eyeing the gloss almost hungrily - would it taste like the strawberry you always applied? sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he’d remember the flavour.

then, like he had to physically pull himself back, he stepped closer to the car and gestured to it slowly.

“after you.”

you slid into the backseat first, smoothening your dress as it rode up your body, all whilst your pulse hammered harshly.

the interior of the car was sleek, donned in a luxurious black leather whilst it remained dimly lit in the back, with enough enough space to stretch out your legs. the scent of jungkook’s cologne was addicting, and you immediately recognised it to be the one you had bought him on your last anniversary together, your heart fluttering at the thought.

once he climbed in beside you, you realised how intimate the space actually was.

jungkook sat close enough for his thigh to brush against yours, broad shoulders taking up far too much room whilst the driver shut the door quietly behind him.

neither of you acknowledged the contact. it somehow made it worse.

it wasn’t until the divider between the front and the back began slowly sliding upwards, offering a layer of privacy that your breath caught audibly.

jungkook noticed - of course he fucking noticed. he couldn’t stop staring at you, especially now that he had you trapped here, pushed against him like you belonged with a drive ahead of you. god, the things he wanted to do to you in this dress were sinful at best, but he had to practise restraint, no matter how much it took out of him.

he leaned back, one arm sliding over to the top of your seat, where although he wasn’t touching you, you slyly leaned in just to have more of his warmth. it felt so familiar, so nauseatingly natural that anything other would have felt wrong.

he watched as your thighs pressed together.

fuck.

“you nervous?” he asked in his low voice, jaw ticking.

your eyes slowly shifted, finally meeting his gaze. through a shaky laugh, one without humour, you nodded. “obviously.”

he softened at that, sharpness melting away to reveal the tenderness below.

“it’s just me, y/n.”

you felt so hyperaware of everything. the rain that tapped softly against the tinted windows, and the gentle purr of the car engine beneath you. the feel of jungkook’s thigh soothed you, whilst his heavy gaze unnerved you - a cocktail mix that felt so entirely him.

you could feel his eyes on you before you even looked up. once you did, your breath caught at the intensity of his stare - not polite. certainly not subtle. his gaze moved over you, up and down, like he couldn’t help himself, like he he’d been trying to hold back the second you opened up the door to your apartment.

“fuck.” he muttered under his breath.

your cheeks flushed pink, whispering his name.

you watched his eyes flush down your body, eyes stuck on your cleavage and the way the material clung to your hips. “look at you.”

you instinctively looked down, shy at the attention but you couldn’t help but crave it. you knew exactly how obsessive jungkook was when it came to you, knew how deeply infatuated he was with every inch of you but seeing it so closely after so long almost felt soothing. it was a reminder that though everything had changed, somethings stayed the same.

his hand moved before you could think too hard about it, cupping under your chin and tilting your face upwards.

“don’t hide from me.”

your stomach tightened, eyelids hooded.

this thumb brushed against your jaw once, so soft, so unbelieving that you were in his arms despite the fact you technically weren’t his anymore. not that he believed that.

“i can’t stop looking at you.” he admitted, tone rougher now. “been trying since you opened the door, but it’s impossible.”

your thighs pressed together immediately, his gaze dropping to the small action. the reaction was subtle, but there - he noticed everything when it came to you.

you suddenly felt so warm.

“you’re staring so hard.” you murmured nervously, fingers twisting together in your lap.

“because you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

the words came out so plainly your eyes widened.

jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, head tipping backwards against his seat all whilst you watched with heavy breath. the far gone part of your mind wanted to track his neck, trace his adam’s apple with your fingers all so he could continue looking at you the way he had been.

he looked devastating like this - broad thighs spread in the backseat with your body pressed against him, his arm slung heavy on the head of your seat. the both of you were a mess for one another, sick in the head with infatuation.

you weren’t stupid. you knew your effect on him, perhaps not to the full extent, but enough to know that nearly a year’s distance between you was enough to drive a man like him insane. his hand dragged over his face with a quiet groan before adjusting himself slightly over his suit trousers.

your eyes flickered downwards before you could stop yourself.

jungkook smiled at the sound of your quiet giggle as you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, looking up to meet his gaze after noticing he was half hard. all you had done was exist.

“yeah,” he murmured, the sound of your laugh blooming in his chest. “that’s your fault.”

you slapped his thigh gently, although you couldn’t hold back on the continuous giggles that were now leaving you as you felt lighter than you had in what felt like years. he too matched you, the intensity lightening up massively as he let out a quiet laugh despite himself.

“what’d you expect, hm?” he asked, voice soft. “i haven’t seen you in eight months, and now you’re sat next to me looking like this. wearing pink.”

his hand slowly slid over, brushing against your own, fingertips grazing your skin before he intertwined them, gently.

you let him.

the second you curled your hand into his yourself, his expression changed. up until now, it was him losing control, reigning himself in, biting himself down to make sure you were as comfortable as possible but fuck. you were the one touching him now, making sure he could see you intertwine your hands properly, squeezing his hand.

it felt like a confirmation that this was the beginning of a new chapter.

he wanted to scream, to yell on the top of his lungs at the thought of you openly showing him your willingness. his sweet, angel girl; he loved you more than words could describe and he wanted to spend the rest of his life showing you.

“missed this,” he admitted quietly, eyes on your much smaller hand holding his so intimately. “missed you touching me.”

your eyes burned suddenly.

jungkook noticed immediately with a frown, expression softening at the edges.

“hey, baby.” his thumb brushed yours. “don’t cry.”

“m’not crying.” you whispered, though your voice wobbled embarrassingly.

he held you close to him as you both remained quiet for the rest of the journey, though the silence felt welcomed after such a rush and mix of emotions. you had gone from anxiety, to confusion, to excitement, to warmth, to a painful reminder of what once was - it was enough to drive you insane. being around him hurt, but being near him was healing.

rain continued to pitter patter outside as your hands remained intertwined, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he sat there trying to fathom how this was real. you were letting him in, and he could see it, could see how much it was taking out of you and he’d be damned if he fucked it up again. to get a second chance was insanity alone, but to have it with you?

the car began slowing down.

through the tinted windows, you could see a flash of white, people trying to get a glimpse of the elusive ceo they were so obsessed with. you gulped as you watched other powerful business people walk in with their dates, models and celebrities lining up to have their picture taken.

you leaned into him almost immediately.

jungkook held onto you tightly, arm sliding over your waist and gently squeezing. “i’m here. stay by me.”

you nodded quickly, dazed. “okay.”

his eyes lingered on your face for a second too long before he muttered under his breath, almost like he couldn’t help himself. “you look so fucking pretty.”

your heart nearly stopped, meeting his gaze as your shoulders slumped, feeling calm through his sweet words.

the car door opened.

chaos.

jungkook stepped out first and the reaction was everything you had expected and somehow so much more. your eyes blinked as you watched the cameras explode violently, reporters shouting his name from all directions as they desperately tried to get a clear shot of him, knowing he could easily make front page news without having to try.

your heart stopped for a moment.

his back faced everyone else as he turned to you, taking a hold of your hands once more and gently helping you out of the car, smoothening your dress.

the second they saw you? everything multiplied by ten.

genuine screaming was heard from somewhere behind the barricades as you slowly stepped out, your own hand finding jungkook’s for a sense of comfort which he readily gave you, pulling you in a little closer than necessary. the noise was erupting, your vision blinded momentarily by the insane flashes, reports actually tripping over one another to take pictures of you in particular.

this wasn’t normal.

jeon jungkook never brought women anywhere. never entertained rumours, never dated publicly, never stood beside any other woman that hadn’t been you. even then, you had been painfully private, making sure to attend closed events with rare appearances, often opting to support in the shadows as opposed to centre stage as he was forced to.

but now? this was the loudest statement you could have possibly made and it slowly dawned on you both the nature of the decision.

you were telling the world you were ready to start again.

his entire demeanour had changed out here.

you were overwhelmed to say the least, but it was his arms around you that kept you grounded as you clung to him, your smaller frame tucked so delicately within his own that some found themselves putting their cameras down just so they could observe you both.

you were the epitome of love and neither of you even knew it.

ceo jungkook - all cold eyes, sharp jaw, that terrifying calmness. yet every few seconds he ducked his head down, whispering something in your ear that would have you smiling almost shyly back up at him, easing your mind away from the hundreds of people who wanted nothing more than to get a picture of you.

“jungkook over here!”

“is that your ex-wife?”

“are you two back together?!”

“y/n!”

you flinched slightly as the voices got louder the closer you walked down the carpet towards the venue, but it seemed jungkook’s presence only felt bigger.

“don’t look at them.” he whispered down into your ear, words tucked for you and you alone. “look at me.”

stupidly enough, you obeyed almost instantly. his eyes softened at the way you listened so sweetly.

“good girl.” he muttered absentmindedly before guiding you to the entrance and away from the prying eyes outside.

the words hit you far harder than they should have. good girl.

oh you were so fucked.

—

the venue was utterly breathtaking.

golden lighting spilled across towering ceilings whilst soft music played from a live orchestra at one side of the ballroom, so elegant you’re indeed whether you were even appropriately dressed. people stared at you openly, all whilst you and your flushed cheeks looked away, purposefully keeping your gaze vague and avoiding eye contact with most. glasses clinked together as powerful figures mingled amongst themselves, professional cameras still set up inside.

and yet, none of it compared to the way people reacted to jungkook.

conversations paused when he walked by, people straightening up. executives who had once terrified you now looked nervous approaching him and it reminded you exactly who he was outside of your relationship.

jeon jungkook was a terrifyingly cold, business man. he was untouchable and unfeeling, everything that made a powerful man powerful and then there was you. his one weakness.

his hand remained firm against the small of your back possessively, claiming you as his own in front of anyone who could see. you loved when he was like this, all brooding and dark as though anyone even had a chance to steal him from you - silly man. even now, with months of distance between you and a divorce, you were all his.

“breathe, baby.” he reminded with a quiet hum in your ear.

“i am breathing.” your cheeks warmed.

“barely.”

you shot him a look, though it was void of any real annoyance as he guided you further into the room. you couldn’t help but admire him openly, all whilst he scanned the room, not realising how deep you were falling into your own thoughts. he really had gotten so much bigger, with his chest so wide you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like under your hands. his shoulders too.

you had spent the entire drive trying not to stare at him. you had failed. miserably.

“drink?”

he pulled you out of your thoughts with a little gasp, realising you had been openly checking him out much to his pleasure. you found yourself nodding, nibbling away at your lip. “yes please.”

the words came out too fast, awarding you with a small laugh as he turned towards the bar.

your eyes followed him automatically.

that was another problem entirely. you see, no matter where jungkook stood, attention naturally followed. men greeted him immediately, keen to get into his good books whilst women openly stared, hoping to garner his fancy and yet he was completely and entirely uninterested. his gaze flickered back to you every few moments, as though he still couldn’t believe you were right there, just for him. just because he had asked you to come.

your chest squeezed painfully at the thought.

he returned only a few moments later with two champagne glasses, handing you yours to which you took with a nervous smile.

“thank you.”

your fingers brushed his purposefully. small, barely noticeable.

oh, but how jungkook had noticed. he noticed everything when it came to you and judging from the way his throat bobbed, taking a large sip of his drink, you knew that your poor ex husband was certainly not able to handle your charm.

the champagne helped much quicker than you were expecting it to.

after the first glass, the tension in your shoulders completely eased but it was the second that had you transforming. your overthinking thoughts ceased to exist, as the warmth in your blood brought out a shade of pink in your face that jungkook couldn’t look away from. standing close to him suddenly felt less terrifying and so much more thrilling.

a dangerous combination - especially when jungkook was looking at you with so much hunger.

a buzz had settled deep into your bloodstream, your brain slightly away with the fairies as you continued to sip, looking up at him. your other hand darted out, fingers trailing over his stomach openly, over to where the buttons of his suit sat. what was an absentminded action to you, tipsy, was enough to have jungkook almost shaking.

you were braver when you had alcohol in you, that much had been true your entire relationship, but even this felt quite insane. he watched as your fingers trailed up and down, sliding up to where his chest was only to drop lower and lower. it wasn’t until your fingertips were brushing the top of his suit trousers that he grabbed your hand.

you pouted at him, head tilted. “why?”

your whine had his shoulders rolling.

“because,” he said slowly, voice rough beneath the sound of the orchestra. “you’re getting handsy.”

your lips patted in faux innocence. “am not.”

jungkook stared at you half in disbelief and other half amusement, still holding your hand that he now pressed to his chest firmly. your fingers had nearly slipped below his waistband, a thought that had him nearly taking you home then and there but he knew it was because the alcohol was making you brave - his tipsy girl. his palm engulfed yours, feeling your fingers wriggle underneath to continue your plans with a slight whine but he was both firm and possessive, not letting you go.

you pressed your thighs together again.

this was the champagne.

he knew it, knew it to be a dangerous mix - the alcohol and your naturally clingy personality once you got comfortable, all combined with the eight months apart meant you were now simply doing whatever your heart wanted with little care to your mind.

your cheeks warmed as you watched him stare down at you, gaze heavier than anything all evening. it seemed the longer you were both in each other’s presence, despite how long you’d spent apart, the more bold you were getting - but could you be blamed? he might have been your ex husband but he still belonged to you, and you knew you were still entirely his, a fucked up fact that meant you were both drawn to each other in ways that meant you could never move on.

multiple months of healing all gone to shit in a single night, with a few drinks. who were you both kidding - moving on wasn’t an option. even you could see that now.

your fingers flexed under his hold, people secretly watching you both interact with bated breath. they couldn’t believe this was the same jungkook they were afraid of, made to mush at the hands of the pretty woman in front of him. he was but a man afterall.

rather than pulling away, your fingers simply curled around the fabric of his suit jacket, fingers touching his shirt purposefully to elicit another reaction out of him. he had reduced you to putty in the drive over and perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, but you wanted him to feel the same.

jungkook was quiet. too quiet.

jaw slightly slack as he took you in, you touching him like his body belonged to you and you alone. he relished in the fact you knew it just as well as he did.

he had missed this so much. just the feel of you, no matter how innocent you pretended to be, skin on skin. it felt like a promise.

and now, you were standing here, head tilted to stare up at him properly whilst looking through pretty lashes that batted at him subconsciously.

it was driving him insane.

“you’re staring again.” you hummed at him. his eyebrows narrowed. “because you keep touching me.”

you tried to bite down the smile that began to form on your lips as your fingers continued to flex, soon finding his heartbeat to confirm your suspicious. oh, he was a mess underneath your hand.

“you don’t seem to mind.”

his jaw flexed. you heard him curse under his breath, calling you a fucking minx which only had you giggling just as quietly. it was a powerful thing to have a man as influential as jungkook so weak in the knees for you, and you couldn’t deny the affect it was having on your mind. he snaked a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him in a way that was absolutely not becoming of the environment you were in.

“keep this shit up and i’ll take you home.” he promised quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear.

unfortunately for him, you had no intention of stopping. especially when you had just begun.

“promise?” you whispered back, eyes wide with a faux innocence you knew he wanted to ruin.

his jaw clenched again, blood half boiling at how cheeky you were being and cock hardening by how badly he wanted to ruin you. had this been any other circumstance, you’d already be in the bathroom with your dress to your chest, being pounded into by the only man who knew exactly how to ruin you until you were well bred.

but alas - this night was about proving himself to you, and no matter how hard you made him, he knew he had to do this right.

and so, instead, he pinched you at your waist slightly, pulling an airless squeak out of you before he brushed his lips against your ear.

“behave.”

the word should have been warning enough, but instead, warmth fluttered through you, rushing through your stomach so violently you pressed against him further. jungkook nearly hissed, watching how reactive you were for him, with your hooded eyes and slack jaw.

fuck.

his hands were all over you, with little care to who was watching and you knew tomorrow you’d be mortified when you remembered how brazen you had both been, but it was hard not to feel addicted when you were both feeling the same way. you giggled lightly, hiding your face in his chest momentarily before meeting his gaze.

“you’re very confident for someone i divorced.” you playfully hummed.

at that, he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. “didn’t stop you from getting your pretty hands all over me.”

the alcohol was well into your system as you found yourself giggling once more, fully hiding yourself in his chest to which he wrapped his arms around you properly, the two of you whispering and laughing together as though it was the most natural thing in the world. jungkook’s colleagues, rivals and admirers all watched you both in genuine curiosity at the way you were so well suited. two people, quietly infatuated with one another - it was toothache inducing.

the conversation between you both remained playful, with his thumb tracing your bottom lip at one point muttering something about how badly he wanted to know how your lip gloss tasted. an hour in and you were both practically trying to one up each other with how far you could take it, leaving you both laughing whilst trying to stay quiet.

this is what you had missed. joy. comfort. being around him in a way that didn’t feel like you were fighting to prove something. it had been so long since you’d felt this carefree that you realised pretty quickly that you couldn’t let him ago again. it was a horrible thought at first, realising that the past few months may have been for naught but perhaps absence did make the heart fonder.

soon enough, you had been there close enough two hours and jungkook had done the rounds once you settled in, less tipsy but still buzzed. you met his new business partners, clients you hadn’t seen in a while, a mixture of familiar faces and people you had only ever heard about. neither of you commented on the fact he introduced you intimately, with a heavy arm around your waist.

it genuinely felt like no time had past with the way you both felt so comfortable, the dynamics between you natural considering he had been the one constant in your life for the past fifteen years. you sipped on your glass of water as you listened to his conversation half mindedly, watching him discuss a new company contract with one of his shareholders.

it wasn’t until you heard a voice echo throughout the ballroom announcing the beginning of the charity auction that the conversation came to an end. jungkook immediately took a hold of your hand, planting a cheeky kiss to your knuckles with a slight smirk, before leading you towards the front of the room where the different things on auction sat to be admired over.

“c’mon.”

you followed him easily, hands intertwined whilst you walked side by side, champagne now a dull buzz in your body. people moved around you respectfully, all whilst their eyes lingered on you much longer than needed. could you blame them? you were the infamous woman that had managed to lock down the one man that seemed disinterested in everything, so much so that you had him laughing and flushing pink every time you so much as looked at him. the divorced couple that looked anything but divorced.

oh, they were staring indeed, with hushed whispers and even quieter questions.

your attention drifted lazily over the displayed pieces, politely but nothing quite caught your interest, your eyebrows pulling up at some of the art pieces named. it wasn’t until you reached the very end that you found yourself stopped in your tracks.

jungkook noticed, he too coming to a stop to glance over at you only for his gaze to follow yours. he immediately understood.

beneath warm lighting sat a painting, inconspicuous to most considering it was much smaller than the grand pieces to the left, but it had your eyelashes fluttering

white gardenias.

your breath left you quietly.

it wasn’t just flowers - it was an oil painting, textured with strokes of green, ivory and creams whilst petals cascaded over one another so delicately your heart ached. the background dat moodier, darker compared to the softness of the flower leaving you in a state of utter awe for a few moments, all whilst holding the hand of your ex-husband who watched you with bated breath.

it was beautiful.

you stepped closer unconsciously, hardly aware of yourself.

jungkook didn’t think he’d ever seen you look at something with this much wonder, in all of the years he had known you. it did something to him, to watch you genuinely in awe at something he could so easily give you - it made him realise he needed provide it for you just to see that look again and again and again and again and again.

he felt this throat tighten, a harsh lump forming the longer he watched you admire it. the way your glossy lips parted, eyes widened and fingers tracing the air in front of it - donned in the same diamond necklace he had gotten you years prior. the same necklace he’d bought you after you murmured something about diamonds resembling stars late one night as you curled into him in your shared bed.

and here you were, wearing it, all whilst your hand curled inside his as though you had never been more at peace. that did something to him. something he couldn’t quite describe.

your fingers moved to brush over the small description plaque underneath, reading the inspiration for the piece with a small, choked huff - devotion. enduring, eternal love through trial and tribulation through each season of life.

your own throat tightened then. of course.

“gardenias are difficult flowers..they die so easily if you don’t take care of them.” you found yourself whispering; straightening your back and avoiding his gaze to bite back any tears that wanted to appear.

his chest tightened violently.

all he could think about was the little apartment you had both shared when you were younger, when he barely had any money to get you by each month. the one with the poor lighting and the janky sink - you used to sit by the window each morning whilst he got ready for work, whispering sweet things down at them because you believed it would help them grow.

he remembered every single detail.

“you kept yours alive for months.” he whispered back, the hand that was clasped in yours now intertwining your fingers, as though he could project his memories back to you.

you blinked back at him, eyes glassy, surprised slightly. you hadn’t expected him to remember something so small and insignificant.

how could jungkook could ever forget a single thing about you?

a small smile pulled at your lips. “i used to get upset whenever they’d lose petals.”

“you cried once.” he corrected.

you rolled your eyes. “shut up!”

he only shrugged, lips twitching. “had to console you all night.”

“i thought i killed it!”

his quiet laugh nearly knocked the air from your lungs, all whilst he pulled you back into him, breathing in the scent from your hair before taking you to your shared table, where the auction was about to begin. your fingers remained curled around his own, all whilst he helped you sit down, fixing your dress for you.

he physically couldn’t pull away from you, couldn’t stop touching you even as you began conversing to the woman beside you, who jungkook recognised as one of his shareholders. his thigh was pressed against yours, all whilst his hand sat heavy in your lap, both of your hands playing with his fingers absentmindedly.

the different items came on stage as you watched people bid, raising their panels whilst some shouted out their numbers for more exclusive pieces. you couldn’t help your giggles, leaning over to whisper in jungkook’s ear whenever you’d see more excited people, all for him to lean into you with an equal smile. the two of you were being silly, and it felt fun for once.

by the time the gardenia painting finally appeared, your posture straightened as you tapped on his hand with a wiggle of your eyebrows. jungkook watched you with a lazy grin, eyes flicking over your face.

cute.

the bidding started much lower than you expected, causing you to frown. “that’s it?”

he nearly laughed, seeing your passion for your flowers. “art’s subjective, baby.”

“yeah, well everyone is wrong..so.”

fuck. he loved you so much.

you watched as someone raised their paddle, and then another, and another. a bidding war began as your head bounced between people, watching in utter curiosity though a part of you wondered what it would be like to bid yourself. ironically for you, you were completely unaware of the man beside you staring at your profile like he wanted to devote the rest of his life to you.

“two million.”

your eyebrows raised.

“two and a half!” someone else shouted, causing you to play with his fingers a little faster almost out of excitement.

“hope someone who actually appreciates it gets it.” you leaned over to whisper into his ear, lips brushing against his cheek in the process.

his jaw ticked.

game on.

just as someone shouted out, claiming three million, jungkook ran a hand through his hair before raising his panel, dark eyes trained on the auctioneer.

“five million.”

your head snapped sideways so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, all whilst jungkook sat completely calm, hand raised lazily as though this was easy. like he hadn’t just dropped five million as though it was nothing.

“jungkook!” you whispered, eyes wide. he merely hummed back at you, hand still intertwined with yours. “hm?”

“what are you doing?!”

“getting you your painting.”

you stared at him in disbelief.

across the room, multiple people were openly whispering now, glancing between you because everyone could recognise what was exactly happening. this wasn’t ego - this was love.

obsessive, and terrifying love.

another bidder raised their paddle almost nervously, calling out a measly “five and a half” after a moment of hesitation.

“seven million.”

an audible murmur fluttered through the room just as you grabbed onto his arm with a large gasp, eyes widening as though he was batshit insane. “jungkook, stop!”

he finally looked at you, small smile playing on his lips at the sight of you so shocked. it was so cute the way you were practically toppling over your seat, a reminder that despite being with him, you had never really dabbled in his wealth whatsoever despite it all belonging to you.

a large shout of ‘sold’ was heard by all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. his eyes admired you, from your lips to your eyes, your shaking hands that were both clinging to his thigh, your cleavage that had dipped even further than earlier. fuck. you were the epitome of everything he had ever wanted.

“you wanted it.” he whispered to you, as though that was all he needed, as though it was enough of a reason to spend seven million in one night with a flick of his wrist.

your eyes near enough watered at his words, knowing that nothing had ever described jungkook better.

—

things between you and jungkook had settled into something dangerous.

not enough to call yourselves fixed, or enough to place a label onto whatever fragile thing had formed between you, but enough that your days seemed lighter. having him back in your life meant you were happy again, and actually excited - finally feeling whole in ways that no one else quite understood.

he called more often now.

what started off as phone calls sometimes briefly between meetings, something about using your voice to destress before important gatherings. they quickly turned to late night facetimes where both of you laid in bed, half naked, chatting until either of you would fall asleep. some nights they turned into something darker, dirtier, with a slip of your night dress to show him more all whilst he’d grunt and hiss at the sight, whispering all of the things he wanted to do to you.

it was beginning to feel domestic, familiar even. so terrifyingly easy.

you realised pretty quickly that somewhere along the way, between late night conversations and soft laughs exchanged, you had began falling deeply in love again.

hard.

he had been away on business ever since the gala a few weeks ago, with him currently stationed in hong kong over some important stakeholder meetings. you knew he was incredibly stressed over it, given the frequency of his calls - always at odd times during the day and night, sometimes with the intention of just looking at your face as though it was the only motivator he needed.

the time difference was more irritating than you had expected, and yet he still managed to find a way to accommodate to your schedule as opposed to his.

your favourite so far had been a simple picture of the skyline view from his hotel, taken at three am with a caption of ‘wish you were here.’

you hated how much those four words affected you.

pathetic, really. how even now, you’d kick your feet in excitement over any message sent from your ex husband.

it had become routine now, to expect messages from him with each waking moment, calls when the workload was heavier. perhaps that was exactly why the silence that afternoon felt so particularly loud.

you were curled into your couch, opting to work from home as you were in his jumper and a pair of flimsy shorts. you hummed quietly as you balanced your laptop on your thighs, all whilst a random entertainment news channel played in the back to offer some noise in your otherwise quiet apartment.

your ears perked up once you heard jungkook’s name somewhere in the background.

your attention barely lifted at first, no doubt another gossip sesh on how attractive he was which often made you giggle, but this felt different.

“ceo jeon jungkook spotted in hong kong alongside mystery woman-“

your stomach dropped.

the laptop slipped from your thighs and onto the couch cushion, all whilst your head snapped towards the television, reaching for the remote to turn it up. the image splashed across the screen, all whilst you sat there, smaller than anything, watching.

jungkook.

beside him, an undeniably beautiful woman.

she was tall, elegant, dressed sharply in a suit practically created for her whilst cameras flashed at them harshly, exiting a building together. the headline underneath made your chest cave in further.

‘global heartthrob ceo finally moving on after the divorce?’

you stared. and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared until your knees had slowly slid to the ground, your back touching the couch whilst the entertainment show droned on and on about the details of your relationship with jungkook, about how smitten you had both seen at the gala, how they were the first to break this exclusive news.

your brain knew better. you knew jungkook like the back of your hand and logically, you fucking knew better. jungkook was so many things, but he had always placed you and your emotions first, your priorities, your necessities, your life - your wants and needs transcended everything else. you had never asked for it to be this way, it was just the way he was.

even during your separation, he had never looked at a woman twice. you knew that.

but logic had never been able to defeat insecurity.

all you could think, all you could see, based off of a single image was how she fit beside him. how effortless it looked, how beautiful she was, how successful. so poised and polished - she was everything a woman who stood beside jungkook ought to have been and it was killing you in real time.

the worst thing of all was the realisation that he didn’t belong to you.

all of this emotion, this horrible feeling inside your chest and soul - you were the one to divorce him. you had been the one that demanded it end back then, no matter how much he had begged you to see reason, believing that it was the correct step forward for the both of you. he had every right to move onto someone else, had every right to actually step forward towards something new.

and yet the thought of him belonging to someone else felt the closest to grief you had ever felt in your life.

your phone rang violently loud beside you, droning out the words of the presenter and making you jump slightly.

jungkook.

your eyes burned instantly.

the phone continued to ring and ring across the sofa cushion as you stared at his contact picture, a photo taken on your anniversary a few years ago that you could never bring yourself to change. your chest rose unevenly as another harsh wave of emotion hit you.

you couldn’t do this.

not after you had spent the past few months trying not to think about him, only for him to come back into your life.

the call rang out.

then another came. and another. and another.

your phone was blowing up with a mixture of calls and messages, each vibration making your heart ache so much worse as the topic changed on the tv, talking about some other celebrity gossip all whilst you felt your entire life collapse before your very eyes.

with shaking hands and teary orbs, you turned your phone off.

you burst into tears.

the rest of the day was spent being utterly miserable. you had never felt so pathetic in all of your life, with pain running up and down your veins in a way that genuinely left you almost debilitated. the last time you were this heartbroken, you were a fresh divorcee.

the curtains remained shut despite the afternoon sun outside, your apartment dim besides the soft flicker of the television that continued playing mindlessly in the background. at some point, you had dragged yourself towards your bed with tears still streaming down your face, his oversized jumper now heavy on your frame.

you hated this version of yourself.

hated how deeply this had affected you despite knowing better. you knew him better than this, had enough trust in him and yet you couldn’t barter with what was directly in front of you - months after rebuilding a sense of confidence all for it to shatter over one measly, gossip channel.

you closed your eyes, images of the beautiful woman stood beside him flooding your mind causing you to open them up again with a quiet whimper. so composed and effortless. untouched by the devastation eating you alive.

by morning, your chest was in genuine pain.

you looked awful too.

your eyes were swollen, red with the continuous tears all night whilst your skin felt sunken and dull, the early morning sun hitting your skin from glimpses through your blinds. you forced yourself out of your bed and into your shower, trying to rid the plaguing thoughts out of your body. you failed, spending the majority of it quietly crying.

by the time you were in the living room again, your nose was just as pink as your eyes, hands shaky and body adorned in an old t-shirt you had secretly stolen from his wardrobe back when you were packing to leave. you curled weakly into the couch, blanket curled onto your legs as you begged your body to rid the horrible stomach ache that had now found home inside you.

your phone remained switched off, somewhere under the blanket, still left there from yesterday. you reached for the remote.

you just wanted mindless noise.

instead, the television flickered to life and you found your breath catching harshly for the umpteenth time within 24 hours.

breaking news banners on every channel you came across.

jeon jungkook.

a whimper pulled up out of your throat at the sight of his images everywhere, your fingers tightening around the blanket before you turned the volume up.

“the ceo has officially filed legal proceedings against multiple media outlets this morning following yesterday’s false dating allegations-“

your heartbeat began thundering. you sat up immediately.

another clip appeared instantly, reporters practically tripping over one another in front of jungkook’s main company building, cameras flashing in hopes of getting a picture of anyone who could answer for anything.

“the statement released by jeon jungkook’s legal team less than half an hour ago reads as follows-“

the screen shifted, and suddenly, there it was. cold white text against a black background that had your breathing stopping completely.

“the allegations regarding ceo jeon jungkook are entirely false. the individual photographed was present for a scheduled business meeting attended by multiple executives and investors. legal action will be taken against all parties responsible for the deliberate spread of false information and invasion of privacy.”

your throat tightened harshly.

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the presenter stop, looking at the camera momentarily, before her voice completely softened.

“as for the final portion of the statement, many online are expressing surprise regarding the unusually personal nature of his response as he personally commented-“

more text appeared.

you scanned it once. twice.

over and over and over until a harsh sob was ripped from your lips.

“i have never entertained nor pursued any romantic involvement with anyone.

there has only ever been one woman.”

a broken sound tore from your throat as your hand flew to your mouth, fresh tears spilling from eyes so fast that you couldn’t see the tv. your heart felt like it had been picked up from the ground, cradled and cherished after being pierced over and over all night, attacked without any reprise.

you couldn’t believe what you were reading.

jungkook, your jungkook? so private and reserved, not willing to give one inch of himself to anyone other than you and yet here he was, making himself as clear as possible. he was telling everyone with ears that you were his but more importantly, he belonged to you and you alone.

he despised media attention, it truly was the one thing he hated more than anything and the both of you would often laugh at rumours and random things stated in the tabloids because they were all bullshit.

and yet he has made a statement publicly.

for you.

your chest cracked at the thought as you covered your face with both hands, sobbing harder and harder.

before you could wallow further, a loud banging erupted from the front door.

the sound tore so violently through the apartment, you jumped - startled on the couch whilst your heart leapt to your throat. the slight fear had your tears stopping immediately, allowing for enough of a shock to regulate your mind for a few moments.

another knock came before you could even process it. louder, and louder, and louder.

“baby!”

your breath hitched painfully.

jungkook?

his voice sounded wrecked. not the calm, controlled man the world knew, nor the eerie ceo who often stood emotionless in front of the cameras whilst deals worth billions sat heavy on his shoulders. this was your jungkook - the one who loved you much too hard, half unravelled whenever the conversation pertained to you.

“open the door.” he shouted again, along another collective banging. his voice cracked slightly. “please..”

you stared into space for just a moment, your mind unable to comprehend what was happening before your legs carried you to the door, through the hallway. you slipped on your blanket slightly, already shaking body weaker than usual given the past twenty four hours, all whilst hot, heavy tears burned in your eyes once more.

another knock.

“baby, c’mon..”

the second your shaking hands unlocked the door, it swung open hard enough to hit the wall behind it, as though jungkook couldn’t believe you had actually heard him.

he looked utterly destroyed.

he stood, still in a suit that now sat disheveled on his frame, black tie loosened around his throat, white shirt wrinkled as though he had been in it for hours. his usually pushed back hair was messy, pulled at and tugged through large hands any time he had realised the depths of emotion you were no doubt feeling looking at the news - if the shoe was on the other foot, and jungkook had seen news of you and another man; he would’ve happily burnt the world to a crisp.

the second he saw you, his entire face fell apart, anger long dissipating.

“fuck.” he whispered, heaving out a breath.

his oversized shirt sat on your body, engulfing your smaller frame, swallowing you whole in a way that had his breath taken away. it was your eyes that broke him, however, as they looked so swollen, no doubt from crying so hard, your cheeks still damp and lips still quivering enough that he watched you bite down on them.

you watched his throat bob harshly, watched his eyes flicker over yourself frantically like he was trying to assess how badly you had been hurting without him here to comfort you. the thought terrified him.

that was all it took for a sob to rip out of your chest so painfully your knees almost buckled. your hands flew up to your face.

immediately, his arms shot out, cradling you almost harshly to him with one large arm completely covering you whilst his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you close to him as though this was the only remedy for a situation like this. his sweet girl. his sweet, sweet girl.

“i called you for nineteen fucking hours.” he said, eyes darting down at you desperately.

you couldn’t stop crying. “i know.”

“your phone was off.” his voice broke slightly, as though the situation had hurt him beyond words. “that scared me, y/n.” he admitted, chest heaving a little.

your crying only worsened immediately because of course it scared him - jeon jungkook, a man who’s entire identity was you and you alone. the prospect of losing you for the second time would surely be enough to kill him, and yet answering his calls felt like the last thing you could bring yourself to do.

“i tried not to think like that,” you choked out through hiccups. “i know you wouldn’t, logically i know but just kept seeing the pictures of you beside her and..”

your chest was heaving.

“stop talking about her.”

the words came out sharp, almost harsh.

his hand slipped to cup your face, holding your jaw in place whilst his arm slipped down, cupping your body to him so you could rest, his own strength supporting you up. his eyes were wild.

“don’t,” he repeated quieter, chest rising and falling. “don’t..stand here and..fuck, don’t compare yourself to someone else for even a second over some shitty tabloid.”

you couldn’t stop crying. it was as though that was all you could do.

“jungkook..”

“no.” he cut in immediately, voice cracking at the edges. “you don’t get it.”

he stood before you, a cocktail mix of utter despair and devotion, all whilst anger and fear simmered on the surface, every emotion open on his face to the point he almost felt unrecognisable. you knew he loved you, could see it painted on his features for the world to see but you weren’t sure when his feelings for you had become his very destruction. it scared you.

his hand shook around your face.

“you think i flew half a day because of a fucking dating rumour?” his eyes glazed over. “i don’t give a fuck about the tabloids, baby, you know that. i was scared because i know what this would do to you. i know your brain.”

your breath hitched.

“i know you.” he repeated, hands continuing to shake against you. “know how your mind gets. i know you’d sit here and cry over this shit when you know i would never touch another woman.”

another harsh sob clawed up your throat, and jungkook heaved at the sight as though it was the worst sound he had ever heard.

“look at me.” he pleaded suddenly.

his hands dropping from your body as he suddenly dropped to his knees - a man of his stature rendered completely broken by the woman he loved. the amount of people who looked up to him, feared him; the amount of people he dictated on a daily basis and yet here he was, on his knees for you. only you.

“there has never been anyone else.” his voice cracked completely. “not before you, not after you. not after this, no matter what happens, you hear me? it’s you, and it’s always going to be just you.”

your own knees were begging to give out, as you leaned against him, only for him to rest his face against your stomach, breathing you in like a man desperate for your understanding. he wanted you to see, needed you to comprehend the situation at hand. there was no him without you, the concept didn’t exist.

“you’re the only woman i’ve ever loved and there is nothing after you, y/n, because you’re my wife. divorce or not, i don’t give a fuck, i belong to you forever whether you want me or not and i won’t..i can’t have you thinking otherwise.”

your entire body gave in at the admission as you collapsed into him with another heart breaking sob, jungkook holding you like a man terrified he had said too much and truly not enough. for the first time since the divorce, neither of you tried to pretend this wasn’t exactly what it was.

—

the rest of the evening softened after that.

somewhere between the tears and the endless kisses planted to your cheeks, nose, head, hands and stomach came an ease to the panic that had long settled into your bones for the past few months. he refused to let you go, grunting almost childishly whenever you’d move out of his arms to do anything until you found yourself snuggled back into his arms, as though the thought of distance after such a clear cut declaration of love physically pained him.

he looked exhausted now that the adrenaline of the situation had worn off, his under eyes sunken from the exhaustion that had now settled deep into his body. to think he had flown all the way across the world simply because of the thought of you crying all alone over a situation that was so completely false upset him - it made you want to sob all over again.

how could you have ever let him go? how could you proceed forward without him, without him so deeply intertwined in your life once more?

eventually you found an old pair of black shorts mixed in with your clothes from when you had packed your things all those months ago. jungkook had stared at them for a few moments after his shower, towel low on his hips as water droplets slipped down his chest. it had his heart pounding faster than anything yet.

“you kept these?” he murmured down at you, watching the way your eyes flickered up from his physique, small gasp leaving your lips at being caught. “oh! um..must’ve slipped them in by accident.”

he didn’t comment on the fact you were wearing his t-shirt either, despite it hardening his cock.

still, he pulled them on as you settled into bed, your hair still scented from your earlier shower too. you, in his too big top, whilst he grabbed you immediately, shirtless and hands still desperate to hold you in a way he had held back on for so long.

you hummed as your body pressed against his, his figure snaking around your body as a heavy arm curled under your ass as a means to prop you up higher in his arms, causing you to giggle into his neck. your arms wrapped around him too, humming a little under your breath as he breathed in your scent openly.

you both laid there in silence for a long while, breathing. healing.

the room was dark now, with the city lights from afar shining through the slips of your blinds, illuminating slivers of his bare chest beside where your hands sat. you could feel his heartbeat, the way it calmed your already heightened senses as though your body recognised it was finally home.

“missed this.” you whispered into his ear, only snuggling closer to him.

jungkook’s grip, once on your waist, slid down to your ass once more. this time, his palm sat on your ass cheek, fingers digging into your skin whilst breathing you in.

“don’t say shit like that to me when i’m hard.” he grunted, a small smile forming across your lips. you hadn’t even done anything, not that you needed to to get jungkook bothered.

when you pulled him from your neck, his eyes were already glazed over, both of you taking a second to simply stare at one another in the exact way you had wanted for so long. his mouth parted, as his hooded eyes took you in, holding you closer, tighter.

within seconds, his lips touched yours.

slowly, at first, as though he was trying to relearn you after years of you being his. he savoured every moment of your lips against his, especially once you started to kiss him back, both of you uncertain in the beginning but once your hands began to find home in his hair, it was then that jungkook’s touch began to grow in confidence.

he kissed like a man starved, one hand buried in your hair too whilst the other continued to grip your ass possessively, as though physically feeling you was enough to have his mind go into overdrive. every small sound you made went straight to his cock as he swallowed your little sighs and whimpers, only pushing him to kiss you deeper and deeper and deeper.

he was growing desperate, pushing you down against the bed, half hovering over you as he rested on one arm, hand cupping at your thighs, your stomach, your knee. anything he could get his hands on all whilst his tongue explored your mouth as though he had every right.

perhaps he did because despite everything, the divorce and distance, the heartbreak - he still reacted to you like you were the only thing capable of fucking him up.

his lips eventually drifted from your mouth, pressing against your chin, your jaw and finally your neck. oh, this sweet, pretty little neck, he had dreams of marking it up and down every other night and the fact he had you in his arms now, in a bed far too small for the things he so desperately wanted to do to you was everything and more.

jungkook moved, properly hovering over you now just as you moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, pushing your top down your thighs and revealing your lace panties you had conveniently put on. just in case, of course.

he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths as you watched it break apart the further he pulled his head back. just staring at you hurt, with the way your cheeks had flushed and your hair was spread all across the pillow, and your thighs. fuck. the sight of what was between them had him openly groaning down at you.

“need you to tell me to stop baby, or i won’t be able to hold back.” he hissed down at you, feeling your legs tighten around him before he could finish his sentence.

your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, eyes never leaving his as you tugged on it just slightly. jungkook, who’s two hands were on either side of your head, blinked down at you half in awe and other agony, the prospect of you teasing him in a moment like this his literal worst nightmare. you always knew how to make him impatient, said it was the best version of him.

he watched with bated breath as you grabbed one of his arms until his hand was in your own, slowly pushing it under your top to rest on your stomach. it felt heavy on your frame, large palm heating your already hot skin before you pulled him down, other arm wrapping around his neck.

“wanna feel you here, kookie.” you whispered into his ear.

jungkook nearly took you then and there.

his jaw flexed, a heavy leaving his lips as he chased your lips, planting another kiss. “yeah? want kookie deep inside?”

“mhm.” you hummed against him, placing your hand over his on your stomach.

“but haven’t taken me for so long, baby. might be too much.”

you closed your eyes at that - the way he cooed down at you despite telling you how easily he could ruin you, break you. it all felt like too much and yet the empty ache inside of you reminded you it wasn’t enough, causing you to merely nod.

“i don’t care. want it.”

the pout on your lips. fuck. jungkook thanked the gods he was a better man, more patient, especially knowing you were doing this on purpose.

“always used to struggle to take me, hm? fucked you open every night and you’d still cry.”

jungkook reached forward, lips on your neck once more but this time, his hips began chasing yours, grinding down almost harshly, causing you to feel every inch, every vein against the flimsy material you called panties. it was heavenly

your hands grabbed him by his biceps, smaller hands unable to wrap around the circumference of his skin. how could you forget your nights of passion? he would spend hours between your legs, so mean, orgasm after orgasm and he still wouldn’t feel satisfied, an insatiable man to his core. even on nights you’d argue, it would somehow end in you fucking which meant the last eight months had been utter hell.

your poor fingers couldn’t reach far enough and nothing brought you to an orgasm unless you thought of him, imagining it was own digits instead of your own.

silly you - if only you realised how similar you and jungkook were. he couldn’t get off unless he was on your instagram, staring at your pretty eyes and lips as he tugged on his cock with all of his energy, round after round after round only to be constantly dissatisfied. having you below him, so ready to be his again? it fucked with his head.

“you'll make it fit.” you whispered.

within mere moments, neither of you could wait. his shorts, alongside the large tshirt that originally belonged to him were on the floor, leaving you in your lacy panties alone. his boxers strained against his hardened length which oozed precum at the mere sight of you, hips bucking a little as you watched him groan out loud at the wet patch forming against the flimsy material.

“my pretty pussy.” he whispered, just as he parted your legs. his fingers pushed your panties to the side, almost hissing from how damp they were, knowing you must have been needy for a while. “missed her. you’ve been holding out on me, baby.”

your eyelashes fluttered up at him at the first touch of his fingers running up and down your slit. you let out an airy moan, barely audible, your body immediately easing back into the covers now that you could finally feel him on you.

he suckled on your neck whilst he circled your clit, knowing your body better than anyone. you were both so in tune with each other’s wants and needs that an eight month break between you both meant nothing when he bit against the sweet spot on your neck all whilst applying more pressure.

you squeaked, nails digging into his biceps at the harshness of his fingers.

“fuck, you’re so needy.” he grunted, pulling away from your neck after leaving a hefty purple bruise. “not been touching your pussy the way it needs.”

“doesn’t feel..” you moaned louder. “doesn’t feel good if you don’t do it.”

his eyes almost rolled back at that. “yeah? need kookie to be the one to touch you?”

“mhm.”

at that, he pulled his hand away only resulting in a loud whine from you. so cruel, to have been given a taste, only to have it pulled away from you.

your positions, however, suddenly changed as jungkook realised the space on the bed was much smaller compared to the bed you had once shared. he rested his back on your wooden bed frame before grabbing you properly, resting you in his lap against his too hard cock, spreading your legs wide.

your back was against his chest, all whilst he caged you in, his fingers returning to your cunt immediately.

this new position had you so much more exposed, as he pushed your thighs apart, index finger circling your hole before slowly pushing inside. your eyebrows furrowed, watching him with a shake to your breath as he took his time, knowing a single one of his was the equivalent of two or three of your own - a though that had him wanting to fuck into you already.

the loud moan that left your lips once he fully inserted it was enough to have him kissing at your temple, cooing.

“like that?”

“feels big.” you whispered back with a shake, feeling him pump in and out.

at that, jungkook thought he was ready to fucking cum. even your pussy was as sweet as you were - too big? one finger and you were already fucked out, but he knew he had to stretch you to accommodate him, a thought that brought a nasty little smirk on his face.

“gotta fuck you open, baby. always so tight.” he continued to coo at you, all as you looked up at him, his finger being joined with another.

soon enough, he was roughly fingering you, all whilst you both maintained eye contact, often breaking it just to share a kiss as though neither of you could get closer to the other. the feeling of him inside you, just like you had become used to for so many years after months apart was the definition of pleasure, your eyes hooded with each pump.

“feels s’good.” you slurred slightly, chest heaving.

he watched your breasts, your bed squeaking with each passing movement and he fucking loved it. loved having your eyes on him, loved having your tits bounced everytime he’d fuck you open a little harder, your sweet moans filling the space.

you could feel how hard he was, but everytime you tried to turn to pleasure him too, he’d merely hold you tighter, as though your orgasm was the only objective on his mind. he wanted to eat you out, fuck - the thought had him all but growling at you but he knew he’d never last, promising himself he’d save that for later tonight.

“wish you knew how many times i’ve dreamt about this.” he grunted down at you, as he watched your thighs try to close from the onslaught of pleasure, only for him to widen them immediately. “i’m constantly fisting my cock thinking about you. at work, at home, in the fucking car.”

“what do you think about?” you pressed desperately, needing to hear it.

jungkook bared his teeth at you slightly, all whilst his pace quickened. “think about breeding you, pumping you full of cum till you’re begging me to stop. every morning, every night until you’re pregnant with our baby. you’d like that, hm?”

you could have sobbed. like was an understatement, your legs widening with each passing word as you nodded almost desperately at him, looking up and above where his head tilted down to watch you.

your eyes then fluttered shut at the image of him touching himself, almost shuddering out of relief at the thought of him so infatuated that he had to cum just to get you off of his mind. especially at work - the whole reason of your divorce being his dedication to his occupation and now knowing you had your affect on him there too? it was euphoric.

“think about you all the time.” you whimpered back at him, pout so cute he wanted to scream. “tried..fuck..tried to touch myself after the gala..but wasn’t enough.”

he watched as you shook your head up at him, one of your hands on his wrist as the same hand pumped faster inside of you at the admission. he cursed under his breath, letting out a deep exhale.

“should’ve told me. fuck, y/n. would’ve ruined you then, baby, you know that right?” he nuzzled into your cheek. “would’ve let you use me as much as you want.”

it was your turn to whimper under your breath, as your eyes shut tight at the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to creep up. it was shocking, how slowly it managed to creep on you, and yet you could feel every inch of its intensity, the first in a long time where you know you’d feel satisfied.

jungkook could feel you clenching, your too tight hole sucking him in desperately as a bid to have him go meaner on you, to which he was more than happy to oblige with. he grabbed your chin with his other hand, forcing your head back so you’d open your eyes again. he wanted to watch.

“eyes on me, pretty girl.”

you weren’t sure if it was the sweet way he cooed at you, or the brutal pace he was now forcing you to take but your orgasm hit you like a freight train. you let out a loud squeak as electricity fluttered through from your head to your toes, your hips rising whilst he continued to finger you through your high, hissing at how sexy you looked maintaining eye contact.

his pace didn’t lessen, devoted to longing out every hit of pleasure for as long as possible, your legs shaking as you pawed at his wrist, but he refused to stop. your body began falling into overstimulation, whining loudly as your weakened hands grabbed onto his, feeling him finally slow whilst he remained two fingers deep, pushed inside of you all the way to his knuckles.

he curled them one last time, causing a shaky breath to leave you before slowly removing them inch by inch.

the emptiness inside of you was horrible, a reminder of what else you wanted and how badly. your big eyes met his, only to watch him take his fingers press them against your pouted lips until they parted, your tongue wrapping around. you tasted yourself, a sweet sigh leaving his lips at the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his cock jolting harshly in his boxers.

“still don’t think you can take me right now.” he whispered down at you, other hand moved so it was openly cupping your pussy as a whole, palm brushing against your hypersensitive clit.

you jolted which each passing touch, breathing shaky before you took his fingers out of your mouth, saliva coating them where your slick once was.

“don’t care, kookie. i want it anyway.” you grumbled slightly, and he swore he had never loved you more.

it was your turn to move as you pulled away from his grasp, giggling a little to yourself at the look on his face once you put space between you, only to turn around, so you were laying on your stomach. he remained in his position, legs on either side of you allowing you to press your hand against his massive bulge.

oh, how you’d missed his cock.

you were as impatient as ever as you pulled his boxers down enough so that his fat cock could finally spring free, watching the way it tilted upwards at first, but its weight forced it down lower and lower until it was resting almost gently on your face.

he wanted to take a picture. wanted to make it his screen saver, your contact picture in his phone - he wanted it in his fucking wallet. his girl, eyes all hooded after being bratty for his cock? you were a minx and you didn’t even know it.

“don’t have a condom.” he found himself whispering at you, just as you began to pump him.

you tilted your head at him, hand unable to wrap around his length as you slowly teased his slit, fingers brushing against it just to him shudder. you watched his face, watched his very composure crumble before your very eyes all whilst he muttered something about a condom? your mind was barely working, still sensitive from the way he had made you cum and the horniness still in your stomach.

“why would i want you to wear a condom?” you whispered up at him, as though it was a little secret between you.

you watched his eyes darken in real time, narrowing down at you as both of his large hands grabbed the back of your head. you giggled, resting your cheek on his thigh whilst you continued to pump his cock, focusing on the tip just the way he liked it. the heaviness in your hand was what you missed the most, causing you to leave a little kiss to it on the mushroom tip, your fluttering eyes only driving him more and more insane.

he wouldn’t last like this. not with you staring up at him like that.

and so, he pulled your hair. you whimpered, pussy clenching as he pulled you up by your locks, your large eyes completely taken over by how rough he was being with you, no doubt being fuelled by the heightened emotions of the past two days. this was your favourite jungkook, secretly of course.

within seconds, you were on your back once more, all whilst he grabbed your hips and yanked you close to him. he dropped down to give you a kiss on your lips, savouring the taste and feel of you before beginning to rub his cock up and down your tight hole.

“my girl.” he whispered against your mouth. “no going back after this.”

your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of him teasing you, pushing the tip against your hole only to pull back the second it began inserting, rubbing it up and down and over your clit once more. he was a tease through and through, but you were too needy to see reason.

“don’t wanna go back, want it all.” you simply whimpered back.

your words were enough to finally have him pushing inside of you.

first, the tip. your face contorted to the familiar feel of his cock slowly inserting inside of you, your breath catching slightly at the sheer size of him - you struggled to take him even when your sex life was incredibly active, so you knew now that you hadn’t been touched for eight months, this was going to be hard.

you watched his face harden, all whilst your eyes slipped downwards to see him pushing further in, inch by inch, until your fingernails were puncturing the skin of his outer arms. he watched your face instead, willing himself not to cum at the way your jaw grew slack, big eyes only widening further at the too large cock settling in inside of you.

it was too much, too big, too at once. you couldn’t think, could barely see and yet you couldn’t pull yourself away from watching him bottom out even if you wanted to, a slight bulge evident where he sat deep inside of you. his large hand took a hold of yours and kissed it before pressing it against the bulge, only to rest his own right on top. applying pressure, he hissed at the way you let out a loud whimper, your cute thighs trembling around him.

“feel that?” he whispered down at you, nuzzling your nose to force you to look at him. “thats where i fucking belong. this pussy stretches so good for me every time.”

your lip was already trembling, a sight that had his cock throbbing deep inside of you as you clenched down on him hard. his cry baby - he loved seeing you teary during sex.

you were still adjusting as he began to move, causing you to squeal, but jungkook couldn’t wait anymore, not when he’d been dealt with blue balls for close to a year. you were the only option, pledging to live a life of fucking celibacy if you’d have chosen to never let him inbetween your legs again though the thought killed him inside. live a life without a taste of your sweet pussy? he’d sooner die.

“jungkook!” you slapped the tops of his biceps, as he continued his thrusting inside of you, nipping at your jaw, feeling his smirk against your skin.

the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was intense, something you had been craving for so long now and yet now it was happening, you wanted more, and more and more and more and more. he loved this shy game you’d always play, always pretending like you couldn’t take it despite the fact your legs were widening further and you were moaning like a bitch in heat - it turned him on beyond words to know underneath the sweet persona, you were the filthiest slut he had ever known.

his pace was deep, mean but slow and it wasn’t enough, purposefully done to tease you for as long as he could, to ensure you’d stay needy. it was clearly working with the way your moans, whines and gasps filled the air only to be followed with a long drawl of his name, face scrunched up so cute he wanted to fucking scream.

“c’mon, baby, you’re so good to me.” he cooed, continuing his slow thrusts. “just gotta ask if you want something.”

your eyes scrunched shut, whimpering at his words knowing he wanted you in ways that you had reminisced on for months, the feeling of him kissing the gummy part of your cunt something you had missed so much.

“want it properly, kookie.” you begged him, though you couldn’t meet his gaze, eyes flickering down to his neck as he continued his pace. “yeah? tell kookie how you want it.”

your fingers clung to his shoulders as he came down, arms now pressed on either side of your head as he nuzzled your nose with his own, actions too sweet given the sinful position he had you in.

your breathing was ragged, the feel of him inside you too much for your poor little mind to handle without breaking and yet it wasn’t nearly enough. you craved something harsher, meaner, more jungkook. neither of you had ever been ones for soft sex, always preferring it as needy as possible which only heightened considering the fact you were both so utterly obsessive when it came to the other.

you whined loudly as his actions came to a stop completely, now grinding against you whilst still being inside.

“just want you to fuck me properly.” you whimpered, lip quivering so much faster, hips lifting to meet his as a means to relieve yourself.

god. you were killing him.

“good girl.”

jungkook planted a single kiss to your lips, oddly sweet before pulling back, planting two more to your forehead and nose. you were ready to whine once more until you felt his hips pull back, only to thrust into you harshly.

you squealed as jungkook began his pace exactly how you craved it, exactly how you used to picture with your own fingers in your cunt, desperately trying and failing to replicate the feel. hard. fast. mean. rough.

your neighbours would no doubt complain tomorrow with the way your bed frame began pounding into the wall, his head pressed against yours as his thrusts began kissing your cervix. your legs shook around him, much to his enjoyment, all whilst he forced you to maintain eye contact, wanting so badly to see the affect he was having on you after he had been deprived of you for so long.

“fuck..there she is. that’s my girl.” he hissed down at you, not holding back, the sound of skin slapping against skin heavy in the room. “you don’t know how badly i missed you.”

“m-missed..ugh! missed you..too..” you managed to string together, salted tears now escaping your eyes as they streamed on either side of the pillow.

“pretty girl like you needs to be fucked mean. no good to be nice to you, huh?” he growled down at you, only causing your lip to quiver that much faster as you nodded. “can’t think unless it’s me bullying your pussy into an orgasm.”

your nods were paired with soft sobs as he pounded, ruining your soppy core just like you had wanted. you had dreamt of this, dreamt of him, genuinely believing you’d never reach this state of pleasure ever again in your life and yet here he was, coaxing it out of you to remind you that he’d never leave you again.

his thrusts were sloppier than usual, no doubt due to the extensive length between your last fuck but it only had you moaning and crying louder. the thought of the usually composed jeon jungkook a whining mess for you and you alone had you clamping down hard on his cock.

“can’t believe i let you leave me.” he grunted hard at the feel of you getting so tight, gritting his teeth as he pounded you further. “never again. you fucking hear me, y/n? you’re my wife forever.”

“promise?” you sobbed back, arms now wrapping around his neck as you tried to bring him impossibly closer, as though you could in any capacity.

he nipped at your bottom lip, moaning into your mouth at the way you all but begged him to make it a reality.

“gonna take you to the courthouse tomorrow, get you a nice dress and we do..fuck..we do this again, understand?” he closed his eyes the more you whined and whined. “gonna let me put that ring back on your fucking finger, baby?”

you nodded wildly, just as you felt your orgasm build up in your stomach again, whining loudly up at him in a way he recognised immediately. fuck, he had missed this so much - his angel girl, all needy, begging for it even though she could barely take it. he could feel his own coming on fast, causing him to pull his hand down and rub at your clit, hissing at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock harshly.

“c’mon baby. want you to cum on your husband’s cock, hm? gonna get you nice and round like you deserve.” his thrusts only got meaner. “move you back in. fuck this pussy every single day, just like you need.”

your high rushed through you at the exact point his did, your legs wrapping around his waist as a means to keep him inside. you could feel it all through your body, the way it seized up and bucked into him all whilst he continued his thrusts, fucking you through both of your orgasms.

your vision started growing dark, the intensity of it overwhelming as he rode out your highs whilst whispering soft i love you’s in your ear, cradling you to his chest, holding you closer than you’d ever felt him before.

everything after that completely blurred together.

you remembered jungkook taking care of you, tenderness laced into his very being as he held you like you were akin to a porcelain doll - sweet, so soft, so delicate. somewhere between the damp kisses pressed to your skin underneath the bubbling bath he had drawn for you both, to the continuous declarations of love muttered down at you; you realised that this was inevitable. he was inevitable.

there didn’t exist a reality where you both could live without one another - you knew that now.

even after the heartbreak, the divorce, the loneliness and the debilitating grief, you still found yourself exactly where you belonged. your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat soothing you into a dreamlike state which paled in comparison to the reality that was now yours. his love had you wrapped so tightly you knew you’d never live without it again.

you were finally home.

—

this beast of a fic is finally done yay!!! i hope you guys love ex husband jungkook just as much as i do!

tried to make him less yandere in this one and more pathetic yearner lol but i may have slipped here and there 💔

i’d love to hear your thoughts on this - love hearing you guys after a fic drops so i’m excited to see what you all think!!!!

if you wanna help support me pay my disgusting, awful, horrific london rent, my kofi is linked <3

love you so bad 🥹

[technofeudalism]

i think the near-extinction of people making fun, deep and/or unique interactive text-based browser games, projects and stories is catastrophic to the internet. i'm talking pre-itch.io era, nothing against it.

there are a lot of fun ones listed here and here but for the most part, they were made years ago and are now a dying breed. i get why. there's no money in it. factoring in the cost of web hosting and servers, it probably costs money. it's just sad that it's a dying art form.

anyway, here's some of my favorite browser-based interactive projects and games, if you're into that kind of thing. 90% of them are on the lists that i linked above.

A Better World - create an alternate history timeline

Alter Ego - abandonware birth-to-death life simulator game

Seedship - text-based game about colonizing a new planet

Sandboxels or ThisIsSand - free-falling sand physics games

Little Alchemy 2 - combine various elements to make new ones

Infinite Craft - kind of the same as Little Alchemy

ZenGM - simulate sports

Tamajoji - browser-based tamagotchi

IFDB - interactive fiction database (text adventure games)

Written Realms - more text adventure games with a user interface

The Cafe & Diner - mystery game

The New Campaign Trail - US presidential campaign game

Money Simulator - simulate financial decisions

Genesis - text-based adventure/fantasy game

Level 13 - text-based science fiction adventure game

Miniconomy - player driven economy game

Checkbox Olympics - games involving clicking checkboxes

BrantSteele.net - game show and Hunger Games simulators

Murder Games - fight to the death simulator by Orteil

Cookie Clicker - different but felt weird not including it. by Orteil.

if you're ever thinking about making a niche project that only a select number of individuals will be nerdy enough to enjoy, keep in mind i've been playing some of these games off and on for 20~ years (Alter Ego, for example). quite literally a lifetime of replayability.

[woundsandwisteria]

What Remains 

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: Mentions of Yoriichi’s canon backstory

Requested by @9deifices

The cicadas sang, but their chorus felt cruel tonight. Too alive, too careless, as if the world hadn’t shattered.

You sat on the engawa of a quiet inn, your knees drawn close, hands folded tight in your lap. Beside you, Yoriichi Tsugikuni sat in silence, his sword across his knees. He hadn’t touched the blade, though his fingers hovered at the hilt, restless in their stillness.

The sun had bled from the sky, and the first stars were piercing through the dark. His gaze lingered on them, steady, unblinking. He looked carved from the same twilight, his face calm, but so hollow it made your chest ache.

You had heard the whispers. How his wife and unborn child had been taken from him in the cruelest way imaginable. How he had returned, too late, carrying a midwife’s promise in his hands, only to find nothing but blood, silence, and the absence of laughter that would never come.

And still after Muzan’s escape, after his own brethren turned wary eyes toward him, he carried that silence with him.

At last, his voice broke it.

“Do you ever feel,” he asked, low and almost raw, “that time does not belong to you?”

Your throat tightened. “Yes,” you whispered. “As if it races past when we wish to hold it still… or crawls when we beg it to hurry.”

He turned toward you then, eyes burning faintly red in the starlight. There was no anger there, no bitterness, only a sorrow too vast for words.

“I was given happiness once,” Yoriichi said softly. “For a brief moment, I thought… perhaps even a man such as I could belong to the world.” His lips curved, but it was not a smile. “But the world took it from me before I could hold it long enough to believe it was real.”

You didn’t breathe. You couldn’t. Every word fell like a blade into your chest.

He looked away, his hand tightening over the scabbard. “I arrived too late. Too late to save her. Too late to meet the child who should have been born into her arms.” His shoulders barely shifted, but you caught the tremor in his breath. “And now… now even those I swore to fight beside see me as a shadow. A failure. A reminder of what cannot be undone.”

Your fingers twitched, aching to reach for him, to bridge the unbearable distance between his grief and your own helplessness. Slowly, carefully, you let your sleeve brush against his, the warmth of his body seeping into your arm.

It was the smallest of touches, but he went very still.

“I cannot give you a whole man,” Yoriichi murmured. His voice cracked on the edges, so quiet you barely heard it. “Only one who has already lost everything.”

Your heart clenched painfully, but you forced your voice steady. “Then I will stay with what remains.”

For the first time, his composure faltered. His head lowered, eyes closing against the weight of your words, against the sting of grief that had never dulled. And though his hand did not reach for yours, the space between you was no longer empty.

The cicadas still sang. The stars still burned. The world still spun, cruel and indifferent. But there, on the engawa, with your sleeve brushing his, Yoriichi was not alone in his silence.

Masterlist

[ohhowjooniewept]

roommates jungkook x y/n

fluff, angst, smut + yearningggggggggg

13k

if you had to describe your relationship with your roommate to quite literally any other person on earth, you’d be floored.

you weren’t necessarily friends, just something in between. your best friend and his best friend had been in a relationship for 2 years now, both madly in love, forcing the two of you to interact. the first time you met him, you couldn’t help but think he was absurdly attractive. still, with how quiet he always seemed, you assumed he wasn’t all that interested in anything - or anyone.

when your apartment flooded and left you completely unable to live within your safe space, he had let you move in overnight despite barely knowing each other. he was with taehyung when yejin had received your teary call, desperate for advice on what to do - you were an emotional person usually, but in situations like this? you completely shut down, unable to think and certainly not able to proceed.

he had a spare room, and was about to list it when everything happened so he felt no qualms about letting you move in. you were clean, organised, and although vastly different to him with how chatty and sunshiny you were all of the time, he knew he’d enjoy living with you.

jungkook even charged you less than half of what he would ask anyone to pay for rent, which in itself was odd and unusual. his response? he didn’t need the money. confusing considering you were both in your early to mid twenties, navigating life. one would assume you were both inseparable, considering all of the preferential treatment, but alas, they couldn’t be more wrong.

you both spoke politely, exchanging niceties here and there, and even would go so far as to do things to make each other’s lives as easy as possible. you knew that he was quiet and enjoyed his silence, so you tried your hardest not to be too overbearing considering you were quite the opposite. you liked warmth, chatter and life - you wanted to feel it in every crevice of your routine, so your differences were clear and direct.

despite this, it was painfully obvious to everyone but you that jungkook was painfully in love with you, to the point where it felt like you were being purposefully obtuse. of course, you found him incredibly attractive, with a face so pretty and a body chiseled in every way, but you just assumed you weren’t his type.

tall, bulky boy who worked at the tattoo shop down the road with his friends. the guy who liked to eat the same thing for breakfast every morning, who spent more time at the apartment gym than elsewhere and that would knock on your door to say goodnight out of what you assumed was mere politeness. you, of course, were an idiot.

—

“i so did not do that.” yejin grumbled to her boyfriend, taehyung, as she sat perched on your couch with her legs swung over his lap. his fingers were brushing up and down her legs as he laughed, enamoured by her.

“you did! she got my order wrong and i thought you were going to leap over the counter and fight her.” you responded in your own fit of giggles. “honestly, i was prepared to just drink whatever she handed to me, but she was so assertive. it was so cool.”

yejin rolled her eyes, a little grin betraying her real feelings of amusement. “you don’t like lemon flavoured drinks.” you grinned back at her. “yeah but i would have drank it anyway to be polite.”

you were sat with your best friend and her boyfriend as they lounged with you, detailing a random thing that happened to you today. a forgotten sitcom sat playing on the tv as ambient lighting sat around your shared apartment, the three of you chatting away.

the door swung open with jungkook waddling in with bags in each hands, taehyung rushing over to help him. “about time you arrived.”

jungkook didn’t respond, mouth drawing into a line as the older boy reached for the beer and snacks he had brought, excitedly bringing them over to the table you were all sat around. you all cheered at the assortment he had brought, making him grin slightly.

“no way, how did you get these?” you all but squeaked as you pulled out your favourite swedish candy, knowing they only really sold them at the shop at the far side of town. “they never have these in stock when i go in.”

jungkook watched as you excitedly rummaged through, finding so many of your favourites, completely unaware that it was an act purposefully done. you didn’t need to know that he had ordered them weeks ago, even going so far as to pay the shopkeeper double to keep them in stock.

“got you these ones too.” he murmured quietly, pulling out the gummy bears you liked from his coat pocket and handing them to you, watching you practically squeal.

yejin watched him with an eager eye, grin so wide it practically rivalled the cheshire cat - all knowing, entirely cheeky. he had let her know about his affections for you on one drunken night and she was practically elated to hear it, knowing you harboured a massive crush on him despite also knowing you would never act on it out of uncertainty.

“my roommates the best, seriously.” you muffled through a mouth full of candy, finger wagging at him in appreciation. his cheeks dusted pink as he took a seat at the couch beside taehyung, getting a full view of you rummaging like a raccoon.

“finish the ones in your mouth before you choke.” yejin warned, laughing lightly as you stuffed your mouth. taehyung opened beers for you all. “okay, seriously, now we’re all here, what is the plan for saturday night? is it a gathering, is it a party?”

“bit of both, i guess.” her boyfriend responded. “namjoon invited all of our old university friends, so i guess it’ll be like a reunion for a lot of us. me and jungkook haven’t really kept in touch with anyone aside from the guys at the shop and hoseok.”

you’d all been invited to namjoon’s house, who co-owned the tattoo shop jungkook worked at. him, taehyung and 5 of his other friends were all university friends who still remained in close cahoots, often meeting up with both you and yejin invited too.

“ew, wonder if that weird guy that tried to get with you is gonna be there.” yejin grumbled to you, making you grimace. “probably, he’s like a rodent you can’t get rid of.” you huffed back.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “who?” he asked, voice inquisitive but clearly loaded.

yejin’s head turned slowly, grin forming widely as she made eye contact with him. you glanced up at him, letting her explain as you began eating more candy.

“oh, you remember changmin, right jungkookie? the computer scientist guy?” she all but cooed, clearly teasing him although it was lost on you. “he was obsessed with y/n, tried to get with her every chance he got but he could never get the message, she had to hide from him all the time.”

his eyes narrowed even further, flicking to you. you were nodding along, grimacing. “i told him to leave me alone but he never did. i guess it’s my fault for not telling joonie, he’ll probably be there and i’ll have to hide all night like it’s final year at uni again.”

“just stay with me.” jungkook grumbled, already feeling annoyed at the mere prospect of a man making you uncomfortable whilst he could be there to protect you.

your eyes flicked up at him, lips parting slightly. you hated when he did this, leaving you all breathless without even realising it. it made you feel things in multiple places, between your thighs especially.

yejin’s grin was comical, and taehyung was enjoying every second of this. “you promise? guys like that only respond to other men, so you need to make sure you really send him a message, okay jungkook? protect y/n, and all of that..”

jungkook wanted to deadpan at her obvious meddling, but wanted to further pass away at your genuine obliviousness.

“stay with me, y/n.” he reiterated, after giving the couple a dirty look when you weren’t looking. his eyes met yours and you nodded almost shyly.

you all spent the night laughing and chatting away before they decided to leave, simply going down two streets to their own shared apartment. you and jungkook both cleaned in silence, something he relished in whilst you sneakily stole glances at the tatted boy.

once you were both done, you retreated to your rooms, both facing each other with a mere metre separating them.

“goodnight, y/n.” he softly whispered to you, as he did every night, lingering near your door whilst he watched you walk in.

“nighty, night.” you responded in your usual chirp, grinning at him in a way that left him breathless. “sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

he gave you a small laugh despite hearing you say this every single night. his eyes roamed over your face for a moment, longing clear for anyone to see with the exception of yourself before turning to his own room.

you collapsed on your bed, heart thumping and head spinning. you weren’t above admitting you wondered what jungkook looked like when he slept in his bed, shoulders so wide and sleep shorts hung low on his waist.

the mere thought drove your brain in a haze and made your fingers linger at the waistband of your own panties, leaving you groaning into your pillow.

——

when people first met you, they would never assume you worked in a finance office. your bright, excitable personality felt like the complete opposite of the capitalistic, torturous environment you endured day in day out. you hated every single one of your colleagues, with the high majority being sexist men and the women there having no interest in being your friend - it was all in all a horrible place.

even now, you sat at your desk at a whopping five hours after your shift had ended because one of your colleagues had sneakily not done his portion of your shared project, and simply left it to you. you were literally the only person here, the cleaners downstairs doing their nightly job. so here you were, outwardly crying, tears streaming down your face as you typed, sniffling away.

you were incredibly sensitive, and situations like this were enough to drive you over the edge. you hated feeling taken advantage of, and it happened more times you were comfortable with. it wasn’t that you couldn’t stick up for yourself, but more so you were never given the opportunity to.

whilst you poured your heart out to your computer, jungkook sat on your shared couch nibbling his lip. it was extremely late, and you still weren’t home from work. you were notorious for being home on time, especially when it came to your job, considering you hated it so much.

he had even made your favourite. he was the cook of the house, always making you meals you’d find on tiktok, and you knew he was making the pie you loved so much. had even begged him that morning before you both left, though there was no reason for you to, he’d do anything you asked. it was all so entirely out of character.

“hey, what’s up?” taehyung asked as jungkook called.

“hey, are you with yejin?”

“yeah, she’s here.”

“can you ask her if she’s heard from y/n? she’s still not home and i’m stressing the fuck out.” jungkook confessed, running a hand through his hair.

yejin took the phone from her boyfriend. “she’s still not home from work? she text me a few hours ago saying she was staying late because her coworkers a dick and didn’t finish that project she was talking about.”

he sighed in relief. “okay, i’ll head down, just to make sure she’s all good.”

the two agreed, making sure he’d keep them updated before jungkook got up. he packed your dinner in your favourite, sanrio tupperware box that you’d paid a fortune for. he put it in a little bag before grabbing his coat, zipping it up and putting his beanie on before walking the short journey to your office.

15 minutes later, he had managed to flirt his way into your building, using certain choice words with the cleaners by the door who let him up to your floor. he emerged from the elevators, eyes falling to your sunken little body in the heart of the office immediately from the glow of your computer monitor.

the first thing he noticed was the way your eyes flickered up, gasping out loud at the sight of him. the second, was the mascara running down your face. it made his blood run cold to know you were here crying, something he tried to make sure you would never do - he knew you were sensitive, so he did everything in his power to accommodate it.

“jungkook?” you asked, hands shaking to wipe your under eyes although it was entirely futile. “what are you doing here? how did you even get up?”

he didn’t answer you immediately, simply walking towards you and holding up the bag of food. “made you chicken pie. couldn’t let it get cold at home, could i?”

your chest tightened before it began rising and falling again, lip jutting out in quivers. you couldn’t help the tears, they simply flowed so naturally.

“don’t cry.” he gently assured, putting the bag down whilst you sat in your seat, sniffling hard.

“i’m so mad jungkook! my colleague has had months to do this and now i’m sat here doing it because he forgot to do it and didn’t tell me, and we have to present it on monday and it needs to be sent over before midnight. and now i nearly missed out on chicken pie.”

your rambles were making his heart burst, you were so cute it drove him insane. “sounds like a prick. but don’t let him make you cry, hm? how about you eat, take a little break and then we can do the rest together. how’s that?”

you sniffled again; taking one of the napkins he brought to wipe your eyes. “okay.” you nodded, watching him open up your box. you nearly wailed at the sight of your favourite tupperware, knowing it was a conscious choice.

he placed it in front of you with gentle hands, scooting you closer to your desk so you could eat comfortably. he sat beside you, pulling someone else’s chair to you whilst he let you ramble over your colleague and dynamics whilst you ate, sniffling the entire time.

he poured you a drink of the oolong milk tea he brought with him, knowing it was your favourite. he pulled it up to your lips, to which you took a sip without even acknowledging the action for what it was, causing him to grin softly. you were so sweet, so cute - he had plans for your colleague, but that was for another day.

another hour and a half passed before you were finally done, the two of you walking besides one another until you finally reached your apartment. he immediately went to the kitchen to wash up your empty box, whilst you sighed loudly.

“have a shower and go to bed, hm?” he murmured quietly, sparing you a warm glance.

“okay. nighty night jungkook.” you nodded, longing to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug but you’d never really done that before.

he noticed your stare and unmoving feet, looking up to meet your gaze. “left some swedish candy in your snack drawer too.”

you were gone before he could even blink, squealing away in a new found excitement that had him laughing under his breath. fuck, he was so whipped.

——

jungkook wasn’t sure what he had expected attending namjoon’s party, but he wanted to bow down to the older man in thanks in hindsight.

he had finished work and headed home immediately, knowing you were probably already getting ready. sliding into his apartment, he could hear you shuffling around, so he quietly slipped into his shower, getting ready himself before heading out to the living room and waiting for you there.

“jungkook, are you home?” you called out from your room, making his head snap up. he headed to your door, murmuring a quiet “yep” in response.

you sighed in relief. “can you come in here? is this too casual?”

he did exactly that. his eyes weren’t quite sure where to look first, to the mount of clothes piling in each corner of your room, which was entirely unlike you and indicated that it was recent, or to the short outfit you had on, barely grazing your mid thigh as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

his throat ran dry, gaze raking up and down you hungrily, taking in each crevice you would offer. “jungkook?” you called again, snapping his attention to your face where you had a small pout on your face.

“what?” he asked, clearing his throat as heat dragged up his throat.

your own eyes were roaming over the expanse of his chest, his shoulders so wide in the black t-shirt that sat baggy on his figure. god, you wanted to do unholy things to him, wanted to know what noises he’d make. you snapped yourself out of it, realising that it was now you being awkwardly silent.

“um, do you think i look okay? not too casual?”

jungkook watched you bounce from foot to foot, an indicator of your uncertainty. “you look good.” he affirmed, unsure of what to say. you looked better than good, and it made a horrible feeling sink into his stomach knowing how many eyes would be on you tonight.

“i can’t look good. i need to look perfect.” you groaned, eyes shutting tight. “yejin texted me saying minho’s gonna be there and i haven’t seen him since everything went down, i need to make him choke.”

jungkook’s face visibly changed at the mention of your horrible ex. the man that had left you crying for weeks in your room, forcing jungkook to go into pure caregiver mode, taking care of you in hopes you would realise you were so much more than the subpar man.

“y/n, you look good. really, really good.” he assured whilst taking hesitant steps towards you. “he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you, or anyone for that matter.”

your eyes peered up at him whilst nervously chewing on your lip. “promise?”

“promise.” he nodded, eyes shamelessly running down your body once more, just to indulge. “but don’t waste your time on him tonight.”

“i won’t, i just haven’t seen him since the whole cheating thing and i..i don’t know, i just wanna look good.”

he wanted to scream. couldn’t you see? you were both moon and star, ground and sky and minho was just..well, minho. nothing remarkable, hardly handsome, a mouth that chattered too much and was used mostly to pit you down whatever chance he got.

he remembered how quiet you became at the end of your relationship with him. you’d just moved in, and it felt like your sunshine personality had taken a sudden shift, completely quiet and so upset all of the time. jungkook knew it wasn’t his place to say anything, but he all but begged yejin to make you see sense. of course, you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to anyone until minho had then done the unforgivable.

“you’re staying with me tonight, remember?” jungkook gave you a small, comforting grin. “so don’t worry about anyone else. we’ll have fun whilst we avoid him and that changmin guy.”

through your response of giggles, jungkook felt his heart tighten. one day, you’d see - one day.

it wasn’t long after that that you were walking into namjoon’s house, much busier and livelier than you anticipated. you clung to the back of jungkook’s t-shirt in a bid not to lose him, but it was proving futile considering the busiest spot in the house was the entrance, finding it difficult to catch up with him.

he noticed, turning his head to look at you only to find you stuck between two groups of people, frowning as you tried to get them to notice. he didn’t think before walking over to you, taking a hold of both your hip and wrist, pulling you tight against his chest whilst giving the guys around you a dirty look.

you were too busy feeling every inch of jungkook’s chest, knowing this was the closest you had ever been to him. he smelled so good too, it took everything in you not to reach up and smell directly and moan, but even you realised that was probably a weird thing to do.

“thanks.” you loudly exclaimed over the pounding music, whilst he walked you over to your friends, hand still latched onto your wrist comfortably. he simply nodded in response, and you could see a slight pink hue on his cheeks that made you feel awfully giddy for some reason.

soon you were all in a little huddle, all 8 of them in front of you as you watched them drink to their hearts content. you were a little bit of a lightweight, but your desperate attempts to pace yourself in an environment like this was of course futile.

“this might be the worst playlist i’ve ever heard.” jin complained.

“i let one of the guys sort out music. i don’t even know what’s happening right now.” namjoon all but slurred, his arms around jungkook who laughed under his breath.

jin raised an eyebrow. “is he even coherent right now? how many drinks have you had?”

“speaking of drinks, need a top up?” yejin asked you; bumping your shoulder a little to which you nodded, arm slung around her shoulder. “let’s go!”

the two of you slipped away from the group; jungkook cheekily watching the way your hips swayed from behind with a quiet groan.

hoseok grinned, yoongi catching him in the act.

“one of these days, a guy is going to catch her interest and she’s going to give up on you because you couldn’t just tell her that you like her like a normal adult.” the older guy grumbled, whilst taking a sip of his concoction.

jungkook glared at him. “shut up.”

“what a pity.” hoseok teased, arm resting on yoongi’s shoulder. “so many guys staring at her already, you sure you want to play the game like this?”

“if she liked me, i’d know, okay? she’s not shy about her feelings.” he huffed.

“you’re right, which is why it’s so fucking painfully obvious to everyone else. god, you’re an idiot.” jimin laughed loudly, joining in on the teasing. “this weird, business casual relationship you guys have is going to go up in flames one day and you just need to make sure you’re in a good spot.”

“is this an intervention?” he huffed again; taking another sip of his drink whilst his eyes wandered to where you had disappeared to.

“this is us making sure you actually get the girl you want.” yoongi tapped his cheek gently whilst the others took turns giggling away.

—

“god, that tastes like shit.” you complained to yejin as you took a sip of whatever she just created in the kitchen, drinks lined up on the table with red solo cups waiting to be used. namjoon had planned for every type of drink and it was exciting.

she agreed, grimacing. “the nastier the taste, the quicker we get drunk.”

you smirked in response, the two of you chattering away. you turned to face the entrance of the kitchen, catching sight of no other than your horrible ex walking in alongside the girl he had cheated on you with, the two whispering things to each other, unaware you were in the corner just yet.

it felt hard to breathe, all of a sudden, yejin’s eyes widening at the sight before narrowing tightly. it was embarrassing to admit that you knew minho was never the one, he wasn’t even a momentary passing of time, but rather someone who was supposed to simply exist accessibly to you. you were okay with that arrangement, until he began being horrible. everything he would do was plainly mean, and it was clear he felt intimidated by how easily you made friends, and how naturally you integrated into groups, but you knew you didn’t deserve to be punished for it. you just couldn’t bring yourself to be alone, which in hindsight felt stupid.

when he cheated on you, you almost felt half relieved at the thought of being finally rid of such a horrible man. it was ruined, however, when you were reminded by the fact you had wasted so much time being berated by him, that you had lost a big chunk of your identity. when your flat flooded, he hadn’t bothered to help or offer any solution. in fact, he had the cheek to feel annoyed at you, as though it was somehow your fault your entire life had been tipped upside down, as though it was an act purposefully done for his attention. moving in with jungkook was made out to be the worst thing in the world, he even went so far as to use it as his justification for cheating, suggesting you had probably done it first.

“fuck, he’s so ugly.” yejin grumbled, taking a hold of your hip gently as a reminder she was beside you. your eyes flickered slightly, watching as he turned slightly, a look of shock forming on his features when he noticed you there.

you looked away immediately, focused on making your next drink, but minho was already walking towards you. yejin audibly groaned, his mere presence enough to annoy her as she stood with her arms crossed.

“what do you want?”

“what, i can’t say hello?” he asked, tilt of his head. forever an idiot.

you looked up, eyes flickering to the girl beside him. the complete, and entire opposite of you. it made that horrible, nasty creature crawl up your throat and take it hostage, unable to speak as you examined the differences between you both.

“the fuck do you want to say hello for? are you stupid?” yejin growled, stepping forward to him.

he rolled his eyes, as though her bite had no effect. “just being polite. you here alone, y/n?”

you hated the way he asked you, as though he was making fun of the way you were stood there simply watching.

“no.” you blurted, eyes narrowed. you knew you were lying, but you weren’t thinking rationally, you hadn’t seen or been with anyone since him, but a childish part of you refused to let him win.

the look of surprise on his face was notable, enough to cause a stir in your stomach. stupid, you wanted to wipe that smirk off even if it was the last thing you’d do.

“yeah? who you’d come with?” he asked, half curious and other half in annoyance.

minho liked toying with you. he liked making you want him, so the thought of someone stealing that away? it sickened him.

you opened your mouth to answer but were unsure of what to say. you gulped visibly, feeling uncomfortable. “jungkook.” yejin answered for you, scoffing. “an actual man, more than you ever were anyway.”

minho face entirely dropped.

the girl latched onto his arm peered up at his face inquisitively, looking you up and down a few times, almost wondering what had him so worked up.

“the fuck, you’re seeing jungkook?” he hissed, with narrowed eyes. “thought you said you were just friends.”

your cheeks were flushed pink, your fingers shaking. “yeah, well, you also said you’d never cheat so.”

“i don’t believe you.” he rudely interrupted, taking a step towards you. he looked genuinely angry.

yejin stepped forward too, shielding you from him. “yeah, and what’s it to you?”

he ignored her, eyes dangerously locked onto yours. “prove it to me.”

your mouth fell open slightly. “why should i prove it to you? you mean nothing to me.” you huffed back.

his face resumed its normal position, a look of genuine relief washing over him. it made you feel physically sick. “you should get better at lying, y/n, doesn’t quite suit you. always looked like a child whenever you did.” he spat before turning around, pulling his new girl alongside him as he left the kitchen.

yejin was saying something to you, but you could hardly hear her. his words, his voice, it rang in your head. you’d had enough of his taunting, his bullying, enough to last you a lifetime. your legs were moving before you could think, your brain unable to rationalise what you were about to do and the consequences of your actions.

you rudely bumped shoulders with minho as you left the kitchen, yejin confused but on your heels. his attention remained on you as you found your target. jungkook.

you walked over to him, half determined and half a tipsy haze, watching in real time as his eyes met yours, a slight tilt to his head as he examined your features. if only you had caught the way he visibly softened at your mere presence, watching you strive over to him with a determination he couldn’t quite place.

in moments you were in front of him, the other boys watching curiously on the side whilst minho’s eyes glared, almost challenging. your head reached jungkook’s chest, eyes almost pleading as your hands came to rest hesitantly on his stomach.

“please..just play along.” you whispered, to which he nodded instinctively, a curl of confusion to his eyebrows.

you reached up onto your tippy toes before pressing your lips to his.

jungkook was frozen.

you were kissing him. you, y/n. his roommate. the love of his fucking life. kissing. him. now. right now.

before he could really think or react, you had already pulled away with a deep red to your cheeks, mouth quivering slightly and hands shaking visibly. his eyes roamed your face before looking up, noticing minho’s confused glance on the other side of the room.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening, and though he was still half in a daze from the kiss, he ignored the pang in his chest and lurched forward. he grabbed you by the waist comfortably, tilting your chin and pressed his lips to yours again.

kissing jungkook was odd. it was unnerving how naturally your lips moved in unison, and it felt strange how the once incredibly loud party felt no more than a dulled buzz in yours ears. your blood felt like it was pumping harder than ever, your fingers clutching his t-shirt as though it was a lifeline. it scared you, how right this felt, how good.

you found yourself desperate to keep up, the two of you kissing passionately, hardly appropriate for the environment you were in. your lips moved in unison whilst jungkook pulled you in close, your chests touching each other tightly. you could feel every inch of him, could feel his heartbeat on his mouth and it was driving you insane.

by the time you were pulling away, the rise and fall of your chest was enough for jungkook to leave little pecks. over and over and over on your lips until he was fully satisfied, eyes glazed over at the mere sight of you.

minho was the last thing on either of your minds, and everyone around you felt like they were watching the grand finale of something big. even changmin, the boy who’s entire life mission was to get your attention, had watched the entire thing with an agape mouth whilst you both stared at each other, clouded in want and something so much deeper.

you were all but bullied out of your trance as you noticed minho leaving the party, clearly angry and agitated. you watched as he pushed his way through, a face of pure distaste adorned before he finally left.

before you could open your mouth and explain yourself, jimin reached over to you both and wrapped his arms around either of your shoulders.

“about time, that was hot as fuck.”

jungkook finally looked away from your face, gaze flickering to his friends who looked over at him excitedly. yejin, although excited, looked slightly solemn - she just hoped you realised what you had done.

you, stood, heart racing and hands shaking. you couldn’t believe what you just did, and frankly, how badly you wanted to do it again. you could feel your fingers absentmindedly reaching for jungkook, to which he of course noticed. the ever observant man brushed jimin off, who giggled his way back to his other friends whilst jungkook took a hold of one of your shaky hands, forcing you to look at him.

“let’s step out.” he gently said. not a commandment, but a plea - one you were happy to oblige by as you walked after him.

soon, you were in namjoon’s front garden, stood in the grass whilst the thumping of inside bellowed into the night sky. you nervously looked up at him, unsure of what to say.

“i’m sorry.” you whispered, shuffling from foot to foot. “i..he was so mean and..i don’t know, i wasn’t thinking and you were there and i just..i don’t even know.”

jungkook simply observed you, his face neutral. you wished in that moment you could be able to read his mind, get a sense of what he was thinking. you wanted him to speak. please, you wanted to beg.

a few minutes of silence passed before he finally did. “do you regret kissing me?” he asked. voice so gentle, so kind and warm. never accusatory.

your eyebrows furrowed. you felt many things in this very moment but regret had no part in any of it. the only thing you longed was to do it again, to reach out and have him kiss you longer, tongues clashing and lips connecting.

“no.” you whispered again, shaking your head. “absolutely not.”

“good.” he confirmed, stepping closer to you. “i have every intention of kissing you again y/n, would that be alright?”

you all but nodded, lips parted in shock and eyes wide. you looked comical but jungkook swore you were everything and more.

“but..you’re not mad?” you asked, eyes peering hopefully at him.

he pursed his lips. “i’m mad that minho is the reason we kissed, madder that he was my motivator. but no, i’d never be mad at you.” he assured, his head dropping to your forehead.

your heart was beating so fast, you felt so overwhelmed. was jungkook confessing to you? was this a clear indicator of how he felt, you hardly knew. it was as if he could read your thoughts, a small smile forming as he pulled away, after pressing a little kiss to your head.

“come on. let’s go back inside, still have to protect you from changmin remember?”

you couldn’t help the light laugh that left you, your shoulders easing. this was still jungkook. your jungkook, your roommate. the thought left you at ease as you both slipped back to the party, lips tingling with want.

—

you really had no idea that the kiss at the party would now have you in this position, sat on jungkook’s lap on your shared couch, hands in his hair, and his hands on your hips. your lips were moving in unison, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, tongues clashing and moving against one another.

you pulled away for air, chest rising and falling as he rested his head lazily against the couch. his eyes roamed over your face, and below, watching the way your legs were cocooned around him, your lips red and hair messy. he knew he probably looked the same.

neither of you could keep your hands off of each other. the party was over two days ago now, and yet every single chance you both got, you’d have your lips against one another, kissing, biting, pulling. it was intoxicating. the problem? neither of you were addressing the elephant in the room.

“jungkook.” you all but whined as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, enamoured by the way your tongue gently brushed it.

“hm?”

“everyone will be here soon, we need to clean up a little.” neither of you made an effort to move, his eyes trained on you, pushing your hips closer as a bid to hold you tighter.

“you’re right, we should.” he murmured, before sitting up again with you still on his lap. he leaned in for another kiss, lips clashing again as you both kissed one another.

you couldn’t help the breathy little moans that left you as he circled your tongue with his, to which he enjoyed very much. he loved the feeling of you so close to him, it felt right, something he had longed for much longer than he was openly willing to admit.

you pulled away again, with much difficulty as jungkook groaned, chasing your lips and planting pecks before you could stand up straight, giggling away. “stop, kookie, imagine they walk in any minute now.”

he grinned slightly. “can you blame me? lips are so pretty, can’t get enough.”

the flush on your cheeks represented the pang in your chest, nervously fiddling with the neckline of his t-shirt before he gently picked you up; placing you back on your feet as he stood. it always drove you insane how easily he was able to manhandle you, touching you with genuine ease as though it was nothing.

soon, the door knocked and your friends were piling in for your monthly movie night, yejin and yoongi in the kitchen with you preparing snacks whilst the other boys chattered loudly.

“so..are we going to address the elephant in the room?” yoongi’s asked, bumping your hip, whilst plating food.

you all but nearly started choking. “we haven’t addressed it, but i think..everything’s fine.” you shook your head, feeling warmth creep up every crevice of your body.

yejin grinned wide. “you know, you’re so much more obvious than you think.” you peered up at her through your lashes, fighting your own smile. “considering your lips look bruised, and you’re this giddy, you guys have definitely been kissing recently.”

yoongi gasped, hands putting the plate down and turning around to face you. the three of you looked at each other before squeaking, the two asking a million questions whilst you gushed about the situation.

“he does this thing with his tongue, god.” you whispered to them, the two hanging on to every word. “i genuinely have no idea why he’s single.”

yejin deadpanned at you, eyebrow raising. “y/n…are you being serious?”

you tilted your head a little in response.

“you know he’s crazy about you right? i feel like he makes it pretty obvious that he’s in love with you, but surely you know that now more than ever?”

your entire face changed, eyes widening and then eyebrows furrowing in confusion, looking at yoongi who nodded in confirmation. he loved you? love? you?

jungkook, tatted and tall, soft and sweet, hard and quiet. the boy who worked quietly at the tattoo shop, known for his incredible designs and how fucking attractive he was. he loved you? it felt strange, you assumed he was interested in you, considering the situation you were in now, but prior to the kiss, you could name on one hand how many long conversations you had ever had and you were roommates.

“but..” you began, in genuine confusion. “we’ve never…we barely even…?”

yoongi grinned. “i’ve known him since i was 13. he’s always been really quiet, just more of a doer as opposed to a talker, you know?” you nodded, carefully. “listen, we love you sweetheart but you genuinely might be the most oblivious girl in the world.” yejin added with a small laugh.

“when the whole minho thing happened, do you know how many times we had to stop him from fucking him up? he was genuinely ready to end his life for you, it was crazy.”

you felt like a curtain had been pulled from your very eyes, as though the truth that was sat patiently waiting for you was now being accessed.

“or when you moved in for the first time, you guys had spoken what, like 2 times personally at that point? do you really think a guy like jungkook would just offer anyone a place in an apartment like this?” yoongi deadpanned. “literally the only reason he even charges you that rent is so you don’t feel guilty, he knows how you are. pretty sure he just uses that money to buy you things for the apartment.”

“but..he never..he’s never said anything or done anything..” you whispered, heart beating fast. you hardly realised your hands were shaking so much.

“can you blame him?” she gave you a soft grin again. “i think he was happy to be in your presence in anyway he could have you, he’d never wanna make you feel like you have to reciprocate, especially given the fact you guys live together.”

the next few moments felt like a blur, the two walking out to leave the snacks on the table whilst you gave yourself a moment. once you were composed, you walked out only to spot the only free spot on the couch was now next to jungkook, who looked a little too smug.

your eyes connected as you walked over, carefully sitting down. the spot was a little tighter than you anticipated, forcing you against him. “comfortable?” he whispered down at you.

with this new found knowledge, every single one of his actions felt different to you. the way he was glancing down, or even the way his hands twitched, clearly desperate to touch you but unsure and anxious. you nodded up at him, eyes slightly glazed over, parted lips and fingers reaching for him.

jungkook couldn’t look away from you. you looked…different? had something happened in the kitchen? yejin and yoongi looked completely fine, the two fighting over the last piece of chocolate as everyone had already devoured the rest. he watched as one of your hands reached for his, gently bringing it to your own lap where your fingers brushed against his.

his heart was beating out of his chest despite the small action. light touches, thumb brushing over his skin, his eyebrows furrowed at the look of genuine yearning spread over your features, and it made him want to scream. beautiful, y/n. his y/n.

“you okay?” he whispered down at you once the film started, having shuffled so your body was turned towards him slightly, leaning in to rest on him.

you couldn’t focus on the film. not now you knew that every action he did represented so much more. instead, you peered up at him again with a small smile. “meet me in the kitchen in 5?”

he stared at you for a moment, lips parted before he gave you a slow nod. would it be so bad if he gave you a kiss here, now?

you got up, shuffling away without anyone noticing as the film had been one the group wanted to watch for a while now. jungkook was the most excited, but right now, it couldn’t have mattered less even if it tried. he obediently waited 5 minutes, to avoid suspicion before heading to the kitchen, taking a few plates with him to look busy.

the second he walked in, he closed the door behind him, watching as you twirled to face him. in two strides, he was over to you, hands on your hips and lips on your own.

your mouths weaved together, as he crouched to meet your height, your hands locked into the gentle wave of his hair. he was addicting, something you couldn’t get enough of now you’d had a taste.

“fuck, what are you doing to me.” he whispered as he pulled away, leaning in for another brief kiss to which you happily gave him.

“says you. i feel like you’re ruining me.” you teased making him laugh quietly, fingers tightening around your hips again.

he straightened up, looking down at you with a look you now knew could be nothing other than adoration. you wanted to pull your own hair for your self induced idiocy - looking up at him, it was clear as day. jungkook could sense a change in you, but couldn’t quite pin point it.

“we should go out there soon, we’ll never hear the end of it if we’re caught kissing during the film you’ve been begging to watch for the past three months.” you giggled.

he grinned. your laugh was his favourite sound. “one more kiss?”

—

over a month later, your routines remained strangely familiar. the two of you interacted much more than you usually did, spending time with one another, having conversations every chance you got. jungkook would find himself constantly pushing against what would usually make himself comfortable in a bid to engage with you. you, also, found yourself adapting to the silence he adored so much, often curling against him on the couch whilst you both simply enjoyed your shared presences.

the problem? despite this, nothing had changed and it was driving you insane. you would both spend morning till evening kissing, often times even getting quite steamy and touchy, but it would end there and the two of you would return to your bedrooms before the cycle began again in the morning.

you weren’t sure of what was happening, what you were, what you weren’t but it confused you beyond anything. you’d been told so openly by everyone around you that he was smitten, in love and what not - yet you had no inkling of that from him directly. it was difficult trying to understand the depths of jungkook’s feelings when he was so quiet, a trait you enjoyed thoroughly, but one that proved futile in his pursuit of you.

little did you know, jungkook felt similar. it was confusing to him whenever he tried to dissect what you might feel for him. he assumed he had been more then clear as despite you being the one to kiss him first, he continuously sought you out. he was the one to kiss you again, to affirm to you he wanted to proceed doing so, the one who would actively reach for you when you would both wake up. he wasn’t sure of what to do.

you were energetic and loud, often saying exactly what you thought with no care. it was his favourite thing about you, your sheer authenticity - it was both addicting and admirable. it also made him question your relationship; if you felt a certain way, he assumed you would simply say it. it was confusing, and frankly made him deeply disheartened - you were it for him, he just wished he could be the same for you.

this budding tension was driving both of you insane, a constant push and pull that neither of you could decipher. even now, you sat in his tattoo parlour amongst all of your other friends, jungkook and jin in their retrospective rooms doing their jobs.

it was irrational. completely fucking stupid and yet you couldn’t help it. knowing he was in a tight, enclosed space with another woman was something that usually would never agitate you, but you were already feeling annoyed.

tall, leggy and gothic - the gorgeous girl sat on jungkook’s chair was everything you imagined would look good beside him. they were visibly attractive, and looked like a solid pairing, forcing a deep insecurity to rear its head in your stomach. you couldn’t help but peer upwards every now and then, the visible glass pane of his room showcasing the two laughing and chatting, something that felt rare and particular when it came to jungkook.

the rest of you were sat in the reception area, as you always did whenever you all visited. you were all going out to get casual drinks at the local bar by your homes, but your mood soured immediately seeing the interaction being had in front of you.

yejin had noticed immediately, a frown on her face as she placed her hands in your lap, letting you fiddle with her fingers as a means to distract.

“you alright?” namjoon asked beside you, the entire group noticing how quiet you were being, a complete and entire 180 to your usual presence.

you peered up from your lap. “hm?”

jimin’s head tilted. “you’ve been quiet all afternoon, are you okay?”

“just not feeling too good, i guess.” you murmured, shrugging slightly. you opened your mouth to continue, only to be interrupted by aloud laughs coming from jungkook’s room, all of you looking over to see the two in a fit of giggles.

“yeah, i wouldn’t feel good either.” yejin grumbled, clearly agitated by the exact sight you were all watching. you looked away after a moment, unable to focus without feeling your heart pang.

you knew it was irrational, but insecurity was warping down your throat. he was supposed to like you, to love you even, and yet you were in the same position from last month. reduced to kisses and stolen touches, with no commitment and no mention of anything else. now you were watching no doubt jungkook’s type, leggy and tatted, make him laugh hysterically as though he wasn’t the most quiet person you knew.

after another 25 minutes of enduring horrible thoughts that were doing nothing other than ruining your mood, jungkook finished up with his client, saying bye to her as she got up to leave. it wasn’t long until he joined you all, waiting for jin to finish cleaning up his station.

“hi.” he grinned at you, sitting beside you on the couch as the others chatted away.

“hi.” you mumbled back, avoiding eye contact as your fingers fiddled with each other.

jungkook prided himself on his observation skills, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was upsetting you. his eyebrows furrowed immediately at your response, leaning into you as he urged your chin up so you’d look at him.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing.” you pushed his hand away.

his eyebrows furrowed. “y/n?”

“nothing, jungkook. i’m not in the mood right now.” you huffed, being quiet.

you knew you were being unreasonable, it made you feel sick watching the content on his face entirely drop to genuine confusion. he looked lost by your response.

“did..did i do something?” he asked hesitantly, making your heart pang.

embarrassment creeped up into every crevice of your being. you felt fucking humiliated feeling like this, especially when he was sat beside you with eyes so big, all but pleading. “no, kookie..just not feeling good, that’s all.” you assured, your voice cracking a little at the end.

he knew you were lying, but he genuinely didn’t know what to do. he frowned deeply, eyes flicking up to see jimin who observed you both. the older boy shook his head lightly, indicating a small “not now”. you needed space to figure out whatever was happening in your head instead of speaking in emotion, something you all knew would be something you’d regret deeply after.

it wasn’t long until jin joined you all; and you all made your way to the bar across the street. jungkook felt like a lost puppy as he watched you shuffle next to yejin and yoongi, confused as he pulled jimin to aside.

“did something happen? did i say something?” he asked him, in genuine confusion.

jimin ordered drinks for everyone before turning to face him, sat on a bar stool. “we all had to endure an hour of watching you and your client flirt and you’re asking me if something happened?”

“what the fuck? we weren’t flirting.” jungkook stood up immediately, face distorting.

“hm?” jimin peered. “maybe you weren’t, but i guess that doesn’t really matter when the optics say otherwise.”

“jimin, are you being serious?” the tatted boy looked genuinely distressed. “she was being nice, we were talking about y/n. i swear it wasn’t like that. fuck.” he ran his hands through his hair. “is that what y/n thinks? from what she saw?”

“listen, jungkook. we all know you’re opposites, and that’s fine, you guys mesh, but a month ago, you guys used to live in the same apartment and talk occasionally here and there, do you really think it feels good for y/n to watch you interact so easily with a girl she assumes is your type?” he deadpanned.

jungkook pulled at his hair, wanting no more than to rush over to you and explain. “but i love her, she knows i love her, i’d never want to make her feel like that.”

“does she know that?” he asked, paying for the drinks. “because again, a month’s gone past and nothings really changed. do you guys talk to each other about what you even are?”

his eyes shut closed tightly for a few moments before he opened them again. looking over at you sat beside your shared friends, smile not quite meeting your eyes, much quieter than you’d ever been. he felt sick.

“i assumed she didn’t want anything more, she’s always so open about how she feels and we’ve never really talked in depth about any of this so i..i don’t know, i guess i just thought if she didn’t want me in that way, i’d still take anything she wanted to give me.”

“god, you’re both so stupid.” jimin laughed suddenly, with a shake of his head. “how is it you’re both so different and yet the exact same?”

jungkook flushed. “what are you talking about?”

“jungkook, seriously. you do realise the only reason she hasn’t said anything is because you haven’t? you’re the one that’s in love with her, why wouldn’t you then make the next move you idiot?”

his eyebrows furrowed. “because she doesn’t love me.”

“do you genuinely believe that?”

“she would have said if she did. it’s y/n.”

“idiots.” the older man groaned. “i’ve given you enough of my free therapy. help me with these drinks, get some liquid courage in your system and go fix this because one of you has to step up.”

jungkook felt genuinely lost. he’d spent so long dealing with his feelings in silence, accepting that they were for him and him alone only to be given a part of you so suddenly - he was scared of losing it in a bid to get all of you. not that it mattered anyway, knowing you were upset was enough to practically debilitate him.

the two walked over to the table again, handing everyone their drinks. you peered up, only to see his eyes already on yours, forcing you to look away immediately, embarrassed to have been caught.

the night was spent pretty much spent like that, quiet glances, with neither of you addressing each other. not that jungkook didn’t want to, but every time he’d try, you’d suddenly engage in a conversation with someone else as though you could sense it coming.

you felt guilty, you knew you were being irrational but insecurity had a mind of its own and, frankly, you didn’t care if you were being ridiculous. your feelings had merit, you just had no idea how to bring it up. selfishly, it annoyed you to even have to.

soon enough, everyone was heading home, leaving you and jungkook in an uber in silence. you could feel his eyes on you the entire time as you looked out the window. it continued as you left, walking to your apartment, even as you stepped in and toed your shoes off. the cherry on top of the cake was watching you walk to your room without wishing him goodnight, something you had done without fail since you moved in.

his heart ached. had he truly upset you this much?

before he could think, his legs were forcing their way through your door, where you were preparing for a shower, getting your cute pyjamas and scented products out - the ones he loved so much.

“y/n, can we talk? please?”

“i’m gonna have a shower.” you murmured, peering up as though it was a viable excuse to hide your vulnerability.

he walked over to you, taking your clothes and gently placing them on the bed. “shower after we talk, this is important.

you mutely obliged, watching as he sat you down on the bed. instead of doing the same, he slotted between your legs, crouched on his knees so you were peering down at him. an act so passive and yet it changed the entire dynamic completely - he was putting you in charge, making sure you felt in power, a complete and entire vast difference to your other ex’s and situationships who thrived on making you feel small.

“i made you feel uncomfortable today, i realise that now and for that i’m sorry.” he began. “and i know that it’s so much bigger than that, and it’s not just about whatever was happening at the shop, but before we continue, i need to make that clear with you.”

you simply stared at him, cheeks flushed at the memory of him laughing so casually with his client. the feeling of jealousy was returning, making you feel sick.

“i have eyes only for you, y/n. fuck, you’re all i think about constantly, it’s always gonna be you.” he shook his head.

“but..” you began, voice already beginning to quiver. you stopped yourself, thinning your lips to a line as you desperately tried to keep your vulnerability at bay. “all we do is kiss. we have nice conversations and then that’s it. you were laughing so much with her and you guys were chatting the entire time, it looked so easy.” you admitted in a small voice.

his eyes shut for a moment, genuine despair across his features at the sound of you so small. “i’m so sorry for making you feel like this, y/n, over my own stupid cowardice.”

you peered up. “talking to you comes naturally, i don’t have to think, i can be entirely myself and i’ve never felt that with anyone else, i don’t feel like i have to perform for you, you make me feel seen.” he admitted, hands cupping your own. “this conversation is a long time coming and i feel stupid now i know we’ve clearly been on the same page without realising it.”

“what do you mean?”

jungkook watched you, your eyes were a little teary but you were holding your own. his heart ached again. “i want more, so much more than this.” he breathed, head dipping a little as he closed his eyes. “fuck, y/n, if it was up to me, i’d be yours, i’d do it all, the dates, the love, all of it. i didn’t want to pressure you into anything, especially with our living dynamic, i assumed you’d wanna take it slow but i’m an idiot.”

your eyes were so big, so hopeful as you both looked at one another, your chest heaving a little as your emotions began getting the better of you. you were the most sensitive person he knew and again, it was something he adored, but right now? he wanted to combust knowing he was the reason for it.

“i want that too.” you said through sniffles. “but then you didn’t say anything after and we just kept going, i figured that’s all you wanted but yejin and yoongi told me about your feelings and i don’t know, i know you feel something for me but it’s hard to believe it’s as strong as they’re saying when all i get are a few kisses and cuddles and then we don’t really talk about it.”

he nodded, gently running his thumb over your hands, urging you to go on. “and..i like you so much, always liked you kookie just didn’t think you’d like me like that since we’re so different, you know?” you sniffled. “cause i know you like your space and you like the quiet and i’m always around being loud and stuff so just didn’t think it would ever happen, but now that i have a little part of it i just..i want more and it’s scary.”

jungkook genuinely couldn’t breathe. his head was swarming with so many different things, so many ways he wanted to scream and explain to you that you were everything and more and yet he had no idea how to.

he gave you a moment before responding. “i struggle with expressing what i feel through words.” he whispered, tilting your chin so your eyes would meet again. “it’s something i’ve never really been able to do, but i’ll work on it. for you. never ever want you to be in doubt about my feelings for you, y/n, because i’m in love with you.”

you breathed out, tears spilling down your face rapidly.

“you’re everything to me. there has to be an irony to this considering the entire 3 and a half hour session with that client today was me just telling her about how i feel for you, all of the things i find cute or pretty, the way you refuse to cook a single thing, or when you use my shower instead and think i won’t notice even though you leave half of your stuff behind every time.” your little gasp was enough to bring a little grin to his face as he wiped your tears.

“it’s not fair that she gets to hear and see that, when it should be you. i’m rectifying that now, however you wanna proceed after that, i understand.”

“you are the love of my fucking life, you sweet girl. i swear, when taehyung told me him and yejin were together, i wanted to scream because i knew you’d get to be around so much more and i’d get glimpses of you. was happy just to be around you, fuck.” he breathed out. “and when you moved in, and you were still with that bastard minho, had to stop myself from going out and fucking him up every single night, only thing stopping me now is i don’t wanna scare you.”

“you’re it for me, you’re everything and more. i know you might not feel the same and that’s okay, i don’t need you to, i’m happy just knowing you and being around you, but i can’t have you thinking otherwise. i’m yours, entirely.”

you were all but sobbing at this point, clutching him tightly to you as you nodded throughout. multiple boyfriends and countless flings, all in which had tainted the idea of love entirely to you - you’d never known it to be anything other than painful and cruel. yet jungkook sat, crouched between your legs, ready to give you the world and more - was that not an indicator of how he felt alone?

“you’re so silly, kookie.” you shook your head whilst he wiped your face, coping. “want you, want all of you, like you so much it makes my head spin.” you were getting closer and closer, your bodies practically pinned against eachother. “of course i love you, fell in love with you ages ago just never properly realised it and i’m sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

he shook his head desperately, clutching the back of your hair. “no, no, don’t need to apologise. this is me, should’ve expressed this from day one, shouldn’t have heard it from anyone else but me directly.”

the two of you embraced, holding one another as you quietly cried. jungkook’s heart was broken and yet mended in y/n coloured ribbon, cured and kissed. you were his, his everything, and the fact you felt the same meant everything to him.

soon, you calmed down, whilst he pressed soft kisses to your hands as a bid to relax you. “does this mean..like we’re together?” you asked, always one to speak your mind freely without thought.

jungkook grinned into your hands, giddy and cheeky. “you’re my girlfriend.” he confirmed, kissing your knuckles over and over. “mine, all mine, swear i’ll give you the world.”

you sniffled, enjoying the attention he was giving you. it felt so good to finally know, and even better knowing it was exactly what you hoped for and more. it finally felt right.

—

“are we going to address this?” jin asked, currently stood in your kitchen with his hip popped and an apple half bitten into.

yoongi scratched his head. “this causes for a celebration, feel like i’ve been made an old man through the will they, won’t they.” he grumbled.

the two watched as you giggled together whilst chatting away on the couch, your legs sprawled on his lap whilst he curled into you, your fingers playing with his hair. they had come over to pick something up for the shop, though neither of you made any effort into getting up initially.

you eventually did, humming excitedly as you went to grab a drink from the fridge. “hi.” you eagerly greeted the boys, grin a little too wide.

they both blinked at you.

“don’t you think my boyfriend is so handsome?”

the two blinked again. it dawned on yoongi first.

“namjoon owes me 200.”

“what the fuck? he owes me 50, i didn’t realise we were doing high bids.” jin complained, huffing.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “you guys bet on us?”

“obviously. you’re easy money.” yoongi smirked, patting his shoulder before picking up the box they needed. “come on jin, let’s leave the love birds to it.”

jin continued to grumble the entire way, giving you a little hug before leaving you both in your shared silence, the door closing behind them. you both looked at one another before giggling a little.

“can we make out in your room now?” you asked, always a bundle of excitement.

“i still don’t understand why you say it like that.” he laughed as you led him there. “because, smells like you in your room so it means we kiss better, duh.”

he grinned again, happy to oblige in whatever his girlfriend wanted from him. he pulled you down onto the bed, hovering over you in a matter of seconds, not allowing you to get your bearings before he pressed his lips to yours.

it always got steamy whenever you were in here, though you hadn’t actually done anything yet. at most, you’d felt him through his shorts once, being rudely interrupted by a knock on the door from jimin meaning you couldn’t do anything. you’d never forget how he felt though.

your lips moved in unison, moans and whimpers leaving you as he caged you in. shoulders wide and biceps large, this felt like heaven and more. your hands were roaming through his hair, tugging causing him to grunt. your tongues explored whilst your hips moved upwards, desperate for anything he’d give you.

his lips soon trailed down your chin, and to your neck, sucking and biting almost instantly. your moans were driving him insane, so breathy he swore he wouldn’t last. he pulled away slightly, the sight of you on his bed, hair messily discarded over his pillows whilst your cheeks flushed red, lips swollen and eyes hazy. he wanted to fucking ruin you.

“you’re going to drive me insane.” he grumbled, hands at your side.

“hm?” you teased, legs wrapping around his waist. “but we just started…”

jungkook took that as confirmation that you were both on the same page, smirking a little before pressing his lips against yours once more. his hands travelled to the big tshirt you were wearing, hands pushing underneath as they travelled up to your bare breasts.

“no bra?” he groaned through the kiss, kneading and touching instantly.

you moaned into the kiss also, shaking your head slightly. “never wear a bra, kookie. thought you would have noticed by now.”

the cheeky remark was enough to make him want to scream. “i’ve noticed baby. tried to be good and respectful, be a good roommate but couldn’t stop looking, makes me feral.”

for someone so quiet, you were realising jungkook was a dirty talker and the thought made you pool between your legs. you liked that, a lot.

a moment passed and he was already pulling the tshirt off of you, leaving you in nothing else than your flimsy pyjama shorts.

“fuck, look at you.” he groaned loudly, head dipping before you could even respond. his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, biting and licking, whilst his fingers gripped either side of your hips harshly. you knew his fingers would leave bruises, but a sick part of you wanted that, wanting to be marked by jungkook in every possible way.

you were a moaning mess, though he was much worse. you’d never had anyone enjoy this as much as he was, growing and grunting against your skin, telling you all of the things he wanted to do to you in explicit detail.

he got up a little, lips releasing your boobs before dropping a small peck to your lips, hair wild from the way your hands were pulling at it. without notice, he pulled down your sleep shorts, leaving you in your cute cotton panties, a little bow at the front indicating you very much did not expect this to happen today.

jungkook grew harder at the sight, enjoying it very much. “you’re so cute.” he whispered under his breath, almost enamoured by you to which you found yourself blushing pink, hiding your face a little.

you watched him kneel between your legs making you flank your thighs immediately. “you don’t have to do that, kookie.”

he raised his eyebrow. “you don’t want me to?”

“just..i know most guys don’t like it so don’t worry.”

jungkook’s face was the response you got. half confused and half annoyed. he scoffed a little before grabbing your legs and harshly pulling you closer, making you gasp out loud. “i’ve wanted to eat you out since the day you moved in, y/n.”

your brain was scattered, unsure of how to even respond as you watched him move your panties to the side. the groan he let out was enough to make you throb, watching as he blew air gently on your clit. “prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen, fuck.”

you opened your mouth to say something but was cut short immediately as he latched his tongue around your bundle of nerves, sucking and licking up and down. the moans that escaped you were louder than ever, getting airier with each passing second.

jungkook was moaning too, as though your very taste was enough to drive him insane. his hands pulled you in closer, his nose bumping your clit as his tongue pushed inside of you, thrusting and sucking every inch of you he could get.

hands pulled at his hair as you moaned his name, legs shaking. “my pretty girlfriend, hm? can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me.” he grunted, finger slowly inserting into you. “need you to sit on my face every day of my life.”

you felt so full from one of his fingers alone, so much thicker than any of yours. you’d used them so many times, thinking of him in the quiet of your room, completely unaware that he was in his own pumping his cock to your moans.

“feels so good.” you moaned out, making him let out a small breathy laugh against your clit before he resumed. “yeah? want more baby?”

you nodded, whimpering pathetically before he added another finger. you moaned loudly; hips lifting. “feels so big.”

he couldn’t help the smirk that formed. “gotta loosen you up baby, need you to take my cock.”

he was pumping fast, whilst he sucked at your clit, grunting hard whilst you both fell into a rhythm. he wasn’t being gentle by any means, rough licks and thrusts just how you liked them - he was meant for you.

it wasn’t long until you felt your orgasm approaching, and judging from the way your breathy moans were getting higher and louder, jungkook knew it too. “gonna cum for me baby?” he cooed, picking up his pace.

in a moment, you came. your hips lifted and your eyes widened before shutting tightly, moans caught in your throat whilst your legs shook. you felt like you were teleported elsewhere, never having cum from oral before.

by the time you were coming down from your high, jungkook was still practically making out with your clit, causing you to whimper and push him away. he parted reluctantly, sucking on his two fingers that were coated with you. the sight made you want to cum again, eyes hazy.

you got up at the same time as he did, reaching for his shorts as you crouched down. “baby, i love you, but i won’t last if you give me a blowjob.” he airily laughed, making a grin form on your face. it gave you an ego boost to know he was just as much on his knees for you as you were for him.

in response, you simply laid back down, lifting your legs as you took your panties off properly before chucking them somewhere in his room. you spread your legs; watching his eyes darken whilst he took in the sight in front of him.

he took off his shorts, his cock in clear view for you to see. hard, long and so very thick. it made you throb at the sight of it, knowing you’d never taken anyone as big as him. “kookie, you won’t fit.” you whimpered, fingers touching the tip in awe.

“i’ll make it fit.” he responded, leaning down to give you a little peck as he ran it down your pussy, his cock head collecting your slick. it caught onto your clit a few times, forcing little shudders to go through you that he enjoyed thoroughly.

before long, he began pushing in, the two of you moaning loudly in unison. this was everything he had dreamt of, and god knew, it was all he could ever think about. “you’re too big.” you huffed, nails digging into his shoulders.

his ego was being boosted beyond measure knowing he was only half way in, continuing to push in whilst he forced you to look at him. you closed your eyes for a moment; making him nudge your nose with his own so he’d be able to watch you again. this was euphoria at its finest, seeing you fall apart in realtime on his cock.

by the time he was fully inside, you were shaking, never having felt so full ever before and despite the painful stretch, the pleasure was unlike anything. you rolled your hips experimentally whilst he waited for you to adjust a little, causing you to moan out loudly.

“fuck, look at you baby. doing so good.” he groaned. your chest was falling up and down as you let out little breaths, leaving scars up and down his back. “so big, kookie, i can feel you here.” you whimpered as you took his hand, guiding it to your stomach where there sat a slight bulge.

“you like it, pretty girl? looks so good.”

you were going insane. once he started thrusting, you were an even bigger mess, with tears streaming down your face from the intense pleasure - unlike anything you’d ever felt whilst the stretch still allowed for a burn. it hurt in all of the best ways, and you didn’t want him to be gentle.

“h-harder.” you begged, forcing him to groan as he happily obliged. the sounds of skin against skin filtered through the entire apartment and he knew your nosy neighbours would be more than annoyed at the sound of his bed banging against the wall so loudly.

he gripped your hips, pulling your legs around him. “you have no idea how many times i’ve thought about this.” you whimpered up at him. “always touch myself thinking about you kookie, feels so much better than i dreamt about.”

he audibly cursed, grunting loudly at your words as he picked up his pace, unable to be soft and gentle despite his earlier intentions. “yeah? use to be able to hear you, baby. could hear when you were rubbing your little clit in your room, use to drive me insane.” he swore again. “amount of times i wanted to break you over and over and over is insane, but didn’t wanna scare you.”

“wanted that so bad.” you whimpered back, shaking your head. “needed it.”

you clenched around him. “my pretty girlfriend, never gonna let you go. always gonna make you feel good.” he promised you, lips pressed against yours harshly. “wish you knew how deeply i love you, wanted you for years and now i have you. all mine.”

your back arched as you moaned loudly at his words, tears streaming from how overwhelmed you felt. “promise? don’t ever want you to leave.”

jungkook’s pace grew harder if that was even possible, pushing your legs, bending you in two.

“how do i prove it to you hm? gonna fucking put a ring on you finger one day, baby, you hear me? going to make you my pretty wife.”

his words cut through you like an electric shock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm rushed over you out of nowhere. jungkook swore loudly, feeling you grow impossibly tighter as he found himself bracing, feeling your hands pull at his hair, scratch his back and everything else.

he thrusted, keeping your high going for as long as possible, until you were shaking from overstimulation. jungkook moaned as he felt his own high approaching, clutching your thighs tightly. “cum inside me, kookie, wanna feel you.”

that was enough to drive him over the edge as he cursed, his eyes shutting tight as he orgasmed. he came for what felt like minutes, thrusting through his thigh. the two of you breathed deeply, lips hovering over one another as you shared a look.

he lowered your legs, running his hands over your thighs to soothe the ache whilst he remained inside of you, rubbing his nose over your own. “you were so good, baby. so so good.” he whispered, planting kisses over your eyelids, cheeks and chin.

you whimpered, already feeling achy from the rough session, and yet yearning for more. the intimacy was more than just sex, it felt like you both had finally reached a point where you became one, and you knew you were now addicted.

he slowly pulled out of you, a noise of protest leaving you at the feeling of being so empty. he let out a breathy laugh at your reaction, before swooping you up and taking you to his bathroom, carrying you bridal style. he placed you on the counter whilst he made sure the water was the heat you liked it at.

he turned around, your eyes trained on his making him grin a little. his heart was pounding out of his chest but he was desperate to make it appear as though he was calm despite this being everything he had ever wanted. “you okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your head.

“yeah.” you confirmed, matching his grin before you pulled him in. soon you were both under the water, a giggling mess as you joked and embraced, the two of you entirely inseparable.

once you were done, you both opted to head to your room. your bed was considerably smaller than his, but he loved it, loved making you sleep on his chest as opposed to next to him - he liked feeling every inch of you, it made you both feel closer.

“i love you.” you whispered to him quietly whilst you traced circles into his chest.

there was a moment of silence, forcing you to peer up only to find him staring down at you with a smile. you reciprocated, your gaze locked onto his.

“i love you so much more, y/n.” he promised.

you couldn’t help the little laugh. “yeah? even had you wanting to put a ring on me earlier.”

he laughed loudly, giving your ass a spank. “jeon y/n. sounds good.”

“good. i want that.” you teased. “and i want a big house and we can have a cute cat too. you have to build a really big fence, to prove you love me.”

“i’ll build you two, baby.”

you squeaked, planting a big kiss to his lips before snuggling into him again.

after years of uncertainty with men who had continuously taken advantage of you, this was the first time you genuinely felt seen. you were being loved in a way you didn’t think actually existed outside of books or film, but jungkook was adamant on making you believe it. to think, your quiet roommate who you found insanely attractive was the same man who was secretly in love with you was a concept unbelievable to you. but curled in his arms, you finally felt safe.

your wandering brain took place, your mouth moving before you could even stop or comprehend it.

“so, when are you proposing?”

[kyotorchidea]

they are so cute i was literally left breathless reading this 🥲🥲

[brain-dead-bunny]

okay it’s come to my attention that absolutely NONE OF YOU know ANYTHING about how cutie marks work. let me say this simply. a cutie mark isn’t a job being assigned, it’s a special TALENT OR SKILL that the pony enjoys. Most of the time it has a directly transferable job for that skill, like if you enjoy baking and are super good at it WOW! baker. If you are really good at writing and telling stories, author. However, there are some cutie marks that could go multiple ways.

twilight sparkle has exceptional magic ability, so she became a scholar, but she could really do anything that required a good magic skill. same with rainbow dash, her weather controlling job isn’t directly linked to her cutie mark, but it does fit the bill for the job.

i was posed the question of what would a murderer pony’s cutie mark be and wouldn’t everyone know. NO. if somehow murder were to be a special skill, the cutie mark might be something like a knife or a shovel. other ponies might just assume you’re good at cooking or gardening. now with cutie marks like apple jacks, their family has a ‘green thumb’ kind of deal so obviously the cutie mark would be hereditary.

so, the reason i made this post. walter white pony’s cutie mark would NOT be blue crystals. it would be a CHEMISTRY FLASK.

[teaboot]

You see I too often sat in school classes and thought “when am I ever going to need this, I’m never going to be an engineer, I’m never gonna be a scientist, I’m never gonna be a linguist” and then I grew up and it turns out a lot of bigots and cults and scams and grifts hinge their entire business model on you just. Not knowing what a protein is or some shit

[puckgoodfaggot]

i’ve been told by various european friends that the most american sentence i’ve ever said is “sophomore year of college, some friends and i road-tripped thirteen hours to florida for spring break.”

and now i can confidently say this is the most guy-who-lives-in-paris sentence i’ve ever said: “today i was cycling to meet a friend at buttes-chaumont and i went over some cobblestones and my baguette got launched out of the bike basket into the middle of the roundabout”

[only-tiktoks]

[blattaro-moved]

[mybigfatgaylife]

The new Hellraiser movie looks great

[rpepperpotshipssciencebros]

Trio for Harmonica, Rubber Duck, and Belt in D Minor

[vaspider]

The children of the night, what beautiful music they make...

[hcnnibal]

just got back into gardening so i’ve forgotten. are basil leaves supposed to be this big

[hcnnibal]

am i the problem

[mousegirlheart]

op are you a hobbit

[collapsedsquid]