welcome to my fic recs blog! here you’ll find an overview of all the fics i reblog on this blog, usually bts stuff.
please take into consideration that i personally prefer to read stuff about certain members, and that’s why you’ll see a lot of reblogs with the same member ⇢ mostly jungkook and jimin who are my ult biases.
below here i’ve tried to sort it out as much as possible; sorting all posts into members. (perhaps i will sort them into genres at some point, who knows?)
i hope you find what you want to read, enjoy !! ♡
remember to SUPPORT all writers !! you’re able to read all of their stuff for free and they post/write for free, so please like, reblog or even comment on their posts to make their day, thank you ♡
for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.
so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.
or at least, that’s what you think.
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 13.2k
rating: 18+
content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts
warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)
MINI PLAYLIST:
♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars
♫ juno — sabrina carpenter
♫ selfish — *nsync
♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken
opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗
“Any questions?”
A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”
You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.
You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”
More than half of the class raises their hands.
“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”
A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.
“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”
“I love you, Ms. ____!”
“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.
“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”
The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.
There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.
Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.
“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.
“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”
He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”
You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.
“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”
“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”
“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”
“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”
“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”
“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”
He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”
“You didn’t?”
He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.
“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.
Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.
It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.
It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.
At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.
“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”
“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”
“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”
Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.
“He meant well, ____.”
You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.
“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.
He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”
You wince.
“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”
“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”
“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”
“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”
“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”
“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”
“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.
“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.
“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.
He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”
“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”
“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”
“An apology?”
“For being the last person to know about your condition.”
“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”
“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”
Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.
“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”
“I can make space for you.”
Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?
You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”
“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”
“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”
“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.
“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”
“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”
Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.
“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.
“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”
“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Fine.” You deadpan.
This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”
“Okay.”
****
When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.
He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.
And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment.
He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.
Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.
“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.
Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“You’ll do it then?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”
“Even as crazy as marrying her?”
“Sure.”
Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”
“I don’t like her.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”
Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”
“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”
“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”
“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”
“That can work.”
“What?” Jungkook laughed.
Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”
He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”
“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”
“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.
Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.
“Noted.”
****
It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.
You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world.
“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.
You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.
“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.
Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”
He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.
“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”
The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”
“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”
“Precisely.”
“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”
“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”
You bob. “Does it get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”
“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”
“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”
“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.
He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”
“Hell no.”
“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.
“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”
He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”
“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”
The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.
You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.
When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.
After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.
He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt.
“That’s no need, Kook.”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”
So, you allow him.
It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.
“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”
“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”
Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”
“Agreed.”
You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”
Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.
“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.
“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”
“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“That’s not convincing at all.”
“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”
You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.
You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”
There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”
“I can’t promise that either.”
“You have to.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”
“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”
“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”
“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”
“You should be.” You grumble.
Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.
“What?” You hiss.
He swallows hard.
“I want you to marry me, ____.”
You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.
****
Jungkook was your first kiss.
It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you.
He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”
You blushed.
Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.
5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.
“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”
You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”
Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.
It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”
You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”
“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.
He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.
“Okay,” you told him.
“Huh?”
“You can kiss me.”
“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”
You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”
“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”
“It is?” Hope sparked within you.
“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”
You cackled. “Deal.”
56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours.
****
You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.
“What’s up?”
“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.
A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”
The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.
“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”
“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”
“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”
“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t!”
“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”
You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”
“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”
“It’s a sham marriage!”
“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”
“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”
Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”
“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”
“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”
“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”
Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”
“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”
“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”
“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”
There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.
“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.
“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”
“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”
“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.
You hang up and glance at the door.
You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.
He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.
As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect.
Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.
Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked
Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that…
Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol
Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack
You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.
You: it’s okay
You: i’m sorry too for what i did
You: the answer is no btw
Jungkook: already???
Jungkook: let’s talk about it first
You: no need
You: i don’t want to marry you
Jungkook: oof that’s harsh
You: sorry not sorry?
He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.
However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.
Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind
You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.
You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey
Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣
****
It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.
He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.
Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.
“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.
“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.
You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”
“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”
“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”
“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding.
You two continue walking forward.
This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.
“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.
You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”
“Busy day?”
“Yep.”
“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”
He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”
“Why not?”
“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”
“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”
“The assurance you’re taken care of.”
“That’s cheesy.”
You share a laugh and he grins.
“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”
He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.
Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.
“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”
You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.
“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.
“Glucometer.”
He halts. “What does that look like?”
“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.
He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is high.
“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.
It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.
“Let me do it,” he says.
You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.
Another sigh. “Better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”
“____—”
“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”
Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”
“Thank you.”
He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”
Before you can protest, he closes the door.
****
Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.
In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.
“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.
“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”
“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”
“It’s not.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.
Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?
“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.
“Four months, I think.”
“Four months? And you already brought him home?”
You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”
“You must really like him then.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”
“Does he treat you well?”
You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”
“What’s with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”
Fuck, thank God, he thought.
“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.
“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”
“But I’m not your brother.”
“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”
“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”
“Oh, so you don’t?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Instead you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You kinda did.”
He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.
He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.
“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.
“He might not like it. You’ll see.”
That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.
You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.
****
“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.
Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.
“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.
“Jungkook—”
“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.
You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated.
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”
“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not willing to see you die.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”
“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”
“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”
“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”
“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”
“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”
“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”
“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”
“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”
His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”
“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”
Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”
“That won’t make me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.
Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.
Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.
You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”
He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”
“For one, I grew up.”
“Ouch.”
You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”
That piques his interest. “Anything.”
“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”
You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.
“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.
It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.
You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”
His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!
He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.
“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”
That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.
“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.
“What?”
“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”
Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.
“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.
“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”
“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”
And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.
It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.
However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.
“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.
You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.
“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.
It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.
“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.
You grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”
You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.
“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”
You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.
He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”
“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.
He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”
You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.
It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.
Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.
“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.
You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.
“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.
You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”
A boyish grin erupts on his features.
Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.
“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.
You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”
“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”
****
“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.
“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”
“I don’t care.”
You laugh.
He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.
Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.
“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”
You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.
“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.
“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”
“Of course.” You kiss him too.
His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.
“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.
The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.
Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.
Jungkook unwillingly places you down.
“I think I need to go,” you say.
He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss.
He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.
“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.
“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”
“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”
“You,” he answers without missing a beat.
You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”
“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”
You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”
Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.
You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.
“What?” you ask.
“Please never do that in front of me again.”
His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”
“Want what?”
“Me and Jungkook to be together.”
“When on earth did I say that?”
“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”
A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”
“We’re not—”
“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”
“Wait, so the two of you have?”
Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”
He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”
You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.
You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”
You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.
A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”
You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”
When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”
You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.
You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.
“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.
You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.
Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.
You: look how cute we look 🥹
You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.
If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.
thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡
➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.
➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies
➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot
➥ WARNINGS: mentions of rough sex; slapping, spanking, hair pulling, gagging, name calling, humiliation, degradation, mean!jk, biker!jk😋, bratty!reader (like reallll bratty), nude exchanging, pornography, cybersex, sexting, flirting, neighbor beef, tension, jk smokes, bit of angst (cus it wouldn’t be a fic of mine if it didn’t have angst ofc), mentions of raw sex (WRAP IT UP), minors DNI
➥ WORDCOUNT: 11.8k
a/n: whew. HI. can’t believe pt1 went off like that😭 thank u sm for enjoying this fic !
i call this a mini three-shot cause i just left out all the unimportant stuff. it just constantly skips to scenes where yn & jk bump into each other i really dgaf if it’s coincidental the entire time. i had and still have no intention of adding more lore than necessary😭 its just a pwp so i rlly dc abt the lack of story telling and whatnot i just wanted to get this horny idea out 🙄
make sure to check out eli’s version too! <3
enjoy 😘😘 — the next part (pt. 3) will be the final part!
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You still don’t know his name.
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And that is how you spend the rest of your weeks.
Flirting.
Sexting.
Sending pictures of your naked body to a random stranger on the internet.
A random stranger whose name you do not know.
A random stranger that doesn’t know your name, either.
A random stranger that you’re somehow slightly possessive over.
A random stranger that’s somehow slightly possessive over you.
Constantly posting subtweets about each other only further proves that. Indirectly wanting to tell other people to back off without actually doing so.
It’s crazy how you two clicked almost immediately. Maybe men aren’t a lost cause after all.
The subtweets consist of more pornographic content, provoking each other and wording your wishes of what you would like to do to one another on your timelines.
Like posting captions that say, ‘wish you were here’ alongside a video of a woman getting fucked into a worn-out mattress.
Or ‘this could be us’ and it’s a video of 2 people kissing like it’s their last day on earth.
But then at times, you both just chat like best friends. Talk about the movies you like. Or the anime he recommends. Or the music he likes to listen to. He gets oddly defensive about Justin Bieber.
Even though you’re both aware that you’re two strangers, you can’t help but feel like you two have known each other for longer than just a few weeks.
Like the time you found out you live in the same timezone. Live in the same state. Grew up watching the same things on TV. Have heard of each other’s high schools.
But any details have been kept private so far—for safety reasons, of course.
It’s not like you don’t trust him. It’s not that. It’s just weird sharing personal info with someone you don’t know personally.
But there’s been some talks about potentially meeting each other.
You wonder what he’s like in real life.
You bet he’s as charming as he is through text. Probably average looking but you don’t mind in the slightest. Pretty men only break hearts.
You still don’t know what he looks like and vice versa.
You still don’t know his name and vice versa.
Somehow you both wordlessly agreed on revealing your faces when you meet for the first time. The only physical details you’ve noticed are some of his tattoos that you can barely make out thanks to the poor quality of his pictures. His toned body. Veins. Sweatpants.
Most of his pictures are taken in the dark. Seems like he’s always just holed up at home and you deduce he might be a homebody or a gamer—something like that.
You usually can’t stand gamers (cue your annoying fucking neighbor) however, you can’t help but fantasize about sucking this random online stranger off while he’s gaming or have him bend you over his gaming setup. Let him fuck you from behind over his keyboard. Hips pounding into your asscheeks as his gaming chair squeaks.
The buzzing of your phone next to your hip snaps you out of your sinful trance.
[Twitter]
@archurback4me sent you a message!
Your heart always jolts like it’s been resuscitated every single time he sends you a message and that hasn’t changed in the past few weeks. There are simply no words to describe how it feels when your phone buzzes and it’s the person you’re thinking about.
You sit straight up on your couch, crossing your legs criss-cross applesauce as you giddily unlock your phone.
@archurback4me | 11:12AM
Goodmorning brat
How’d you sleep
Sleep. How’d you sleep.
Right, that’s what you’d forgotten!
You | 11:13AM
wait omg
now i remember
i dreamed about you omggg
well you were kinda faceless but in my dream i knew it was you
@archurback4me | 11:13AM
Did you?
What kind of dream
You | 11:13AM
honestly it started out weird as fuck lol
i wish i could tell you something sexy but it really isn’t
you were in my old high school trying to buy something from the vending machine and it wouldn’t work
so you ended up punching it and then i stopped you
and told you to hit me instead like some kind of pick me girl lmaoooooo
@archurback4me | 11:14AM
LMAOOOO
Bruhhh
That is so random
Hitting you is crazy
You | 11:14AM
i know
i mean
watching you be so aggressive was pretty hot tho
woke up w drenched panties
@archurback4me | 11:15AM
That so?
You got proof or are you just talking out of your ass?
You | 11:15AM
ur trying to see my pussy at 11am? really? you’re horny at this hour?
@archurback4me | 11:16AM
11AM or 11PM
Idgaf
Let me see that pretty pussy
How are you supposed to decline when he says it like that?
You want to do everything he asks. Anything. Want him to want you. Need him to want you.
You drag your sweats down your legs, tossing them off your bed with a quick kick. The tip of your finger slips under the elastic of your panties, peeling it off your pussy and sliding it to the side.
Arm stretched out, you reach for a low angle of your glistening pussy. There’s a teeny tiny bit of stubble coming through, not that either of you really care.
You snap a quick photo. Check it. Aren’t satisfied. Snap a few more until you’re okay with the row of pictures you can choose from.
You | 11:19AM
(You sent a photo.)
@archurback4me | 11:21AM
For fucks sake
That wet from imagining me shaking up a vending machine, are you?
Shit
Can’t stop staring
You | 11:21AM
well yes.
i mean honestly
i don’t fantasize about you hitting me or anything like that
but being slapped across the face by you kind of sounds... hot
@archurback4me | 11:23AM
I’ve seen you tweet about it before
And you’ve rted several videos like that
So trust me
I know you’re into that
You | 11:23AM
hmm
yeah
i think it’s hot
but not like.. the way you’d slap someone for making fun of your mom
just... a quick slap to make me look at you when i’m disobeying
Because your dirty mouth definitely deserves a few slaps whenever you start yapping like you do so well
You | 11:27AM
kiss my ass jay
you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid lmao
Oh, right. He’d told you to call him Jay about two weeks ago. You’ve been calling him that ever since.
@archurback4me | 11:30AM
Wish I could princess
Let me see that ass one more time
You | 11:30AM
🙄.
what do i get in return?
@archurback4me | 11:32AM
I’ll write your username on my pelvis and post a vid of me jacking off
Oh.
The thought of him, jacking off with your username written across his pelvis, free for everyone to see. The thought of claiming him. Having him all to yourself.
The tingle in your core is impossible to ignore. You want him.
You | 11:33AM
so all those ppl chatting you up in your dms know that you ultimately belong to me?
@archurback4me | 11:33AM
If that’d allow me to see your ass then 100%
You | 11:33AM
ur so thirsty
so many asses you can see online
why mine
@archurback4me | 11:34AM
Because yours is my favorite duh
You don’t have to of course
There’s a compromise, isn’t there?
His favorite?
Does he chat with other people as well? Do others send him pictures of their body too? Does he send them pictures too?
That alone brings a scowl to your face but you quickly realize that, yes, he can do what he wants.
You get up on your knees and stretch your arm out behind you. Phone upside down. Hit record. Spank your ass. Catch the watch it recoils on camera.
Repeat.
Make him never want anyone else again.
You | 11:35AM
🙄.
just shut up
(You sent a video.)
@archurback4me | 11:35AM
Holy shit I need you
I need you so bad
Ahhhh you’re driving me fucking crazy
You | 11:36AM
you could have me
@archurback4me | 11:36AM
I’m so serious I’ll come one of these weeks and I’m not even joking
You | 11:36AM
i wish you would
@archurback4me | 11:38AM
I will
Give me a date I’ll write it down
You | 11:38AM
you’re coming to stay for a few days, right?
i have plenty of room in my bed for you
@archurback4me | 11:39AM
Hmm
Was hoping you’d say that
One night with you would never be enough for me
You | 11:40AM
hehe
exactly 3 weeks from now
the entire week
what do you say?
@archurback4me | 11:42AM
Never noted something faster
I have a dog though
So I was thinking it’d be easier for you to come to me
You | 11:43AM
i don’t mind you bringing your dog
luv dogs
but don’t think i forgot about what i was gonna get in return for sending you my ass
@archurback4me | 11:44AM
Jeez
He doesn’t reply for quite some time. The typing bubble doesn’t pop up either.
But after several minutes a new tweet pops up on your feed.
He didn’t caption it. Just a video that starts with his abs. You watch as his fingers trail down his stomach and tug his underwear down, revealing his squiggly inked skin.
And there it is, ‘@bratgaIore’ written across his pelvis in black marker.
He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his shaft, stroking his rock hard dick at a perfect pace. The sound has been turned off and you really wish it wasn’t but then again, you don’t want anyone else hearing him.
Want him sounding pretty for you. Just for you.
You’ve clearly been staring at the video for too long because you get a new message.
@archurback4me | 11:54AM
Happy?
You | 11:56AM
holy shit
you actually did it
@archurback4me | 11:57AM
Of course I did
I don’t play when it comes to that ass of yours
You | 11:58AM
hm
now im rlly horny
@archurback4me | 11:58AM
Aren’t you always
You | 11:58AM
thanks to you
i hate you
@archurback4me | 11:59AM
That’s fine
The feeling’s mutual anyway
Gonna enjoy the way you fall apart under me when I fuck you
Fuck you until you’re stupid
You | 12:03PM
a dream come true
:p
guess what
@archurback4me | 12:04PM
Hm?
You | 12:06PM
(You sent a photo.)
The photo is a picture of your soaking wet pussy with his username written on your pelvis in black marker, too.
@archurback4me | 12:08PM
What the fuck
You’re trying to fucking kill me angel
I need to insert my tongue immediately
You | 12:09PM
here come the harvard graduates
insert is crazy
@archurback4me | 12:10PM
You drive me crazy
Pussy got me acting all formal and shit LMAOO
Got me wanting to wear a bib and say Itadakimasu😋 when I dive in
Fuck
Want you on my face so fucking bad
Spank you while you ride my face
Don’t think I’ve ever seen something so pretty
Think my mind will change when I see your face though
You | 12:11PM
LMAOOOO not itadakimasu😭😭😭
hmm
you like it?
@archurback4me | 12:12PM
Are you insane
I keep going back to it
You should write my username when we meet so I can see it when I take your clothes off
Know that your pussy belongs to me
You | 12:12PM
if you do it too
@archurback4me | 12:13PM
Deal
You | 12:13PM
hehe
😋.
btw
@archurback4me | 12:14PM
Hm?
You | 12:14PM
are you clean
@archurback4me | 12:15PM
What?
You | 12:16PM
like
are you clean
for raw sex
@archurback4me | 12:16PM
Oh
Yeah I am
I’ll send you my results when I’m home
You | 12:16PM
you don’t have to do that i believe you
i’m clean too
where are you rn?
@archurback4me | 12:16PM
Just left to meet a friend
You | 12:17PM
oh
you’re not texting and driving right
@archurback4me | 12:18PM
Of course not, babe.
How am I supposed to meet my dumb girl when I’m dead?
I’m going by foot
Babe.
My dumb girl.
This is dangerous territory.
You | 12:19PM
hm
just like how i want to be the death of you as i tease you while ur in public
@archurback4me | 12:19PM
Don’t
I'm warning you
I don’t wanna meet my friends with a raging boner
I just got rid of one
You | 12:20PM
ur so easy lol
@archurback4me | 12:22PM
Just you wait you little brat
Gonna leave you so fucking sore when I’m done with you
No breaks
Fuck you the whole week long
You | 12:23PM
hmm
gonna fuck me like you hate me?
@archurback4me | 12:24PM
I do hate you
A lot
Dumb girl
Don’t think that’s gonna change when I see you in real life
Might get even more pissed off when I see your bratty mug actually
I just know your face is so fucking bratty
You | 12:25PM
you’d be obsessed with me
i’m really pretty
@archurback4me | 12:26PM
Lmao yeah I probably will be
I’m sure you are
Gonna defile your pretty face when I cum all over it you stupid brat
But my friend’s here
I’ll ttyl princess
You | 12:27PM
can’t wait
bye daddy
@archurback4me | 12:27PM
Hell nahhhhh
Don’t call me that
You | 12:30PM
ok then bye mr. fuck-you-everyday-of-the-week
@archurback4me | 12:30PM
And will
Night after night
You | 12:30PM
go already
byeeeee
@archurback4me | 12:32PM
Bye princess
You go about your day like you usually would and later that night, he ends up sending you his results anyway. You were already asleep by then, though.
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Want to keep reading? The full chapter is out on my Wattpad.
Click here to keep reading.
a/n: thanks to tumblr’s new max 1k blocks limit, i’ll have to figure out how i’m gonna post the full thing on here. (probably tomorrow or friday) either by combining paragraphs or add the continuation in a reblog or something. but its out on wattpad so i hope you’ll forgive me !!
thanks for reading <33
— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡
➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.
➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies
➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot
➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, lotssss of sexting, cybersex, degradation kink, mentions of pornography, exchanging nude photos, nsfw twitter, masturbation (m & f), jungkook is a fucking JERK, reader is an annoying brat, bickering, neighbor beef, no like jk is rlly meannnndjdjdjd, reader is kinda dumb but thats not a warning for any time soon, awkward tension, lots of tension, gamer!jk, freelancer!jk, bam cameo <3, name calling (brat, dumb, stupid, etc.), mentions of roughhh sex (enjoyed by both parties), minors DNI
➥ WORDCOUNT: 8.3k
a/n: so happy pt. 1 is out !! 🤭🤭🤭 just building up the tension for this one … hehe 😋 hope u like it <333 feedback n reblogs are appreciated!
btw: unedited .. not my best work but i rlly wanted to get this idea out + jungkook is basically unnamed but it’s definitely abt him guys like don’t confuse anything he’s definitely the annoying neighbor but as it’s from reader’s perspective, you don’t know his name so he’s pretty much nameless
⋆ TAGLIST ⋆
⇠ TEASER ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢
@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:23PM
So what are you wearing lol
Ugh. You can’t roll your eyes hard enough at that. Do guys have no idea how to flirt with women anymore? What else would you be wearing than pyjamas if you told him you’re already in bed?
You | 9:25PM
pyjamas lol
@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:25PM
What kind
For fuck’s sake. Do men think women go to sleep in lingerie? Why did you even make that secret account if all men just bore you to death in your private messages?
You | 9:26PM
sweatpants and a tank top
@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:27PM
Isn’t it too hot for sweatpants? Haha
You | 9:30PM
i was kinda cold so i was hoping you’d get me hot and bothered but you’ve got me falling asleep tbh. goodnight aaron
@iIikebigbootybitches | 9:32PM
Damn lol. Harsh. This is why women don’t get asked out on dates anymore
Right… that’s the reason. Dumbass.
You waste no time blocking this goofball before turning over and closing your eyes, chasing the sleep you so desperately crave.
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“Dude, how the hell did you miss that?!”
The muffled voice coming from the wall to your right makes you want to scream into your pillow. With an annoyed grunt, you roll over and reach for your phone, squinting when your phone lights up and sting your eyes in the dark.
11:14PM.
A loud groan bubbles up the back of your throat as you slam your fist into the wall repeatedly, hoping your annoying neighbor gets the hint.
“I just saw you–” he pauses, “hold on a second.”
Not even 5 seconds pass before the banging is returned to your wall, as if you’re the one making all that damn noise.
He doesn’t just knock one or two times, he keeps banging like he’s got something to prove and he’s doing a great job at making your blood boil.
Then, he returns—to what you assume to be his computer—and continues talking at a volume that would allow the entire neighborhood to hear him play his stupid video games.
You angrily toss the sheets off your body when you’ve had enough, swinging your legs off the side of your bed. You angrily shove your feet into your fuzzy slippers before stomping your way to his front door, a Hello Kitty tank top draped over your torso and velvet shorts—yes, you lied to that freak—with the bedazzled word ‘JUICY’ spelled across your perky asscheeks.
You raise your hand and aggressively slam your fist down on the door, repeatedly and annoyingly like he did to your bedroom wall just a few seconds ago. It’s almost like his golden apartment number—504B—is mockingly staring at you. The urge to peel it off his door and toss it into your toilet is growing with each passing millisecond.
A loud groan reaches your ears from behind the door before keys jingling together resounds throughout the corridor.
The door swings open and there he is. Headphones around his neck, a scowl on his face, his tongue rolling against the inside of his cheek in annoyance as he slowly—and very arrogantly—drags his gaze down your body before meeting your furious eyes again.
This happens every fucking week.
Your eyes drape over his figure, committing it all to memory. His wavy black locks are pulled back in a small bun, strands—that are too short to fit into the elastic—frame his face just right and his torso is clad in a black tank top, tattoo sleeve on full display for you.
His grey sweatpants hang low on his hips, a silver chain decorates his neck, silver rings in his lip that glimmer under the hallway light of your shared corridor.
You cross your arms over your chest in defiance, proving to him that you don’t care about his scowl and he can look pissed all he wants. “Some people are trying to fucking sleep,” you snark at him.
He exaggeratedly rolls his eyes and it makes the nerves in your hands tingle with the need to smack the shit out of him. In response, he barks, “Who goes to sleep at 11PM on a fucking Friday?”
What a fucking asshole. If you could have the chance to kill one person in your life, it’d be him.
“I do. Now, stop playing your stupid games so damn loud. You sound like a fucking freak,” you huff, not waiting for a response as you start heading back to your apartment, which is literally—and unfortunately—right next to his.
“Yeah, don’t fucking count on it,” he calls out after you before loudly slamming his door shut.
Ugh, what a fucking prick! Can’t he just be considerate? You live in the same building, that means everyone living here should be considerate of others.
You’re aware that you’re the only one that has noise complaints about him, but it’s not your fault that your room is right next to his gaming setup!
You quickly snatch the pillow off your bed after you stormed back to your room with a complimentary door slam, just as loud as your annoying neighbor’s. Quiet insults about him spill out of your mouth as you throw your pillow on your couch and plop down, trying to go back to sleep in this boiling heat.
No matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to fall asleep.
Your chest dramatically inflates as you take a deep breath before taking your phone into your hands, deciding to scroll through your social media apps for a little while. Until they put you to sleep, at least.
You open the Twitter app and switch from your personal account to your secret account.
Which is basically just an account filled with pornography.
Not pornography of you, just home-made amateur porn videos by others that you retweet onto your profile—if you like them.
You’ve gained over 4.000 followers in the past few months—which also inevitably summons a few annoying men in your private and requested messages but nothing you can’t handle.
With a loud sigh, you scroll down your timeline and see your favorite NSFW account tweeted a few hours ago.
You click on his account and decide to scroll through it because it’s been quite a while since you last checked.
‘Me and who?’
‘Need a brat to do this to’
‘This video is hot as fuck’
Those are just the few captions you see, all followed by amateur porn videos and a couple thousand likes on each post.
The video plays silently and the soft moans from the woman in the video reaches your ears. She sounds angelic. Your teeth slowly sink into your bottom lip as you watch the man in the video press her further into the mattress, slamming his hips down into her ass.
The tingle in your core doesn’t let up and you’ve lost track of time when you glance up at the time, realizing you’ve been scrolling through this account for the past 30 minutes.
Your panties uncomfortably stick to your sex, silently groaning as you turn onto your back and scroll back up to the first video, captioned ‘Me and who?’. You watch it again, eyes glued to how this girl gets absolutely ruined, legs pushed back in mating press, moans and cries escaping her.
If only you could be in her position right now.
Your fingers slowly inch towards the hem of your shorts and slip under the elastic before you sneak your fingers into your panties.
The slick that coats your fingers from barely grazing your slit is absurd; you’re disgustingly drenched. A soft sigh escapes you as you slowly begin to rub circles directly onto your clit, grunting and moaning softly to yourself as you continue to watch the video on your phone.
Fuck.
You can’t help but grind up into your own fingers, groaning at the lack of friction you really crave. Being fucked exactly like in this video.
The speed in which you chase your orgasm picks up, rubbing faster and faster. It doesn’t take long after for you to cum all over your own fingers—you haven’t touched yourself in a while so the orgasm has you chasing your breath. You really need to start investing in some toys or something.
And no, not a partner. They’re nothing but disappointments waiting to happen.
A whine leaves your lips when you realize you have to get up and wash your hands, clean them of your slick. Your legs lazily swing off the side of the couch as you sit straight up.
You go to the kitchen to wash your hands and by the time you get comfortable on your couch again, you reach for your phone. You reply to the ‘Me and who?’ tweet with;
‘me i hope lol. cause i just came so hard to this video’
Then, you like the original tweet and lock your phone for the night, turning over and immediately drifting off into a deep slumber.
You don’t hear your annoying neighbor for the rest of the night.
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The following morning, you stir and slurp up the drool that had trickled down your chin. You must’ve been exhausted. How embarrassing.
Your hand reaches up and wipes your chin clean with the back of your hand as you sit straight up, scratching the back of your head as you try to wake up.
You glance at your phone and it says 10:03AM.
Fuck!
You shoot up from your couch, cursing to yourself. You’re supposed to meet a friend today at 10:30AM.
After taking a quick shower, putting on your clothes for the day and doing your hair & makeup, you quickly exit your apartment and lock the doors behind you before heading to the elevator.
Your phone buzzes.
[10:44AM]
Jimin
Incoming call
Shit!
Your finger taps the green button to accept the call. “Jimin,” you say, apologetically.
“Hey,” he mumbles. “Where are you?”
You quickly slam your fingers into the elevator button, hoping the more you tap on it, the quicker it’ll arrive.
“I’m so sorry, Jimin. I overslept. I’ll tell you the details when I get there.”
“Alright, no worries. I thought something bad happened, is all.”
Finally, the elevator arrives and opens up, making you hurry inside.
“Oh, no, nothing happened, I’m okay.”
Right as the elevator doors finally close, a hand slips right in between the gap before they fully close, forcing it open.
“Okay, good! I’ll save us a spot.”
You barely register Jimin’s words when the doors open and your eyes are met with none other than your annoying fucking neighbor.
You do your best not to groan at the sight in front of you and he doesn’t seem too happy about being in this small elevator with you for 30 seconds either, evident by the frown on his thick brows and the twitch in his lips.
“Y/N?”
Jimin’s voice drags you out of your trance, making you avert your gaze from the rude loser in front of you, watching as he walks into the elevator within your peripherals and settling right across from you.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.” You don’t say much else as you hang up the phone, shoving it into your purse before intently staring at the floor like it’s got something important to tell you.
He does the same, though. He’s not staring back, his chin is tilted up and you can only assume he’s glaring at the little screen above the button panel that indicates what floor you’re on.
The tension is so thick, it could snap with the single slice of a dull butterknife.
It seems to be the longest 30 seconds of your life, the occasional mechanical sounds as the elevator slides in between floors fill up your ears like it’s being blasted on a speaker at the highest volume right next to your head.
You allow your eyes to subtly travel to his hand, catching a glimpse of his tattooed knuckles and fingers that are clad in silver rings.
Fuck.
You avert your eyes before he catches you staring but you continue to just stare at the floor, bringing up your hand to scratch behind your ear in hopes you’d feel less awkward.
But it doesn’t help at all.
Fortunately, you safely make it to the ground floor and the elevator doors slowly open up. He doesn’t even have the decency to let you out first, just struts right out without another look at you and you watch as his figure disappears down the lobby.
You scoff to yourself but don’t let it get to you, ‘cause who cares? Walking out, you quickly exit the elevator too, heading out through a backdoor to get to your car.
Hmph. Jerk.
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You finally arrive at your destination, immediately spotting Jimin in the back.
With a saunter, you approach him quickly and sit down across from him.
“Hey,” he chirps as he puts his iced coffee down, nodding towards another right next to his to indicate it’s yours.
“Hi,” you breathe out as you plop down on the seat across from him, stirring your iced coffee with the paper straw.
“You’ve been oversleeping a lot, haven’t you? Is something the matter?” he inquires, tilting his head to search for your eyes.
Your hand comes up to rub your hairline, a soft sigh pushing past your lips as you stare at the cup in front of you. “My damn neighbor is getting way more fucking annoying with each passing day, Jimin. I don’t know how to deal with him.”
He crosses his arms over his chest and sighs in solidarity to your frustration. “That same guy? You two have been bickering for more than half a year, give it a rest.”
“It’s not my damn fault!” you whine, taking a sip of your iced coffee, almost moaning as the sweet goodness hits your tongue.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Anyway,” he starts, “how have you been?”
You part your lips to reply to him but get caught off guard by your phone buzzing. You intend to ignore it but then your phone buzzes again, again, and again. You wince when you see Jimin’s expression, offering him an apologetic smile as you glance down at your phone, reading the notification.
[Twitter]
@archurback4me liked your reply!
[Twitter]
@archurback4me liked your tweet!
[Twitter]
@archurback4me retweeted your tweet!
[Twitter]
@archurback4me followed you back!
Holy shit. What the fuck?
You’ve been following this NSFW account since forever! You can’t believe they just followed you back. You never expected them to notice you, much less follow and retweet one of your tweets.
“Y/N?” Jimin taps the table with his fingers right next to your drink to get your attention and he finally does.
“Oh, sorry,” you mumble and lock your phone, forcing yourself to dive back into the conversation but your mind is still clouded with being followed back by your favorite account. “Sorry. What were we talking about?”
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As soon as you say goodbye to Jimin, you get in your car, reach for your phone in your pockets and quickly open Twitter. The order of notifications can only mean one thing; they liked your reply to their tweet, clicked on your account, scrolled through your account—because the tweet of yours they liked and retweeted is from a few days ago—and then followed you. You scroll through your notifications, noticing how the tweet they RTed has been blowing up.
The tweet of yours they retweeted is an amateur porn video of a guy fucking a girl in speed-bump-position, hips rocking into her ass as soft moans spill from her lips.
You captioned it ‘me and you’ and now there are hundreds of accounts under your tweet, saying stuff like ‘Fuck yeah’, tagging other accounts, asking for the source of the video and more.
You can’t believe your favorite account followed you back, how insane is that?
Your leg bounces up as you start scrolling through their account, your tweet being right at the top of their page.
Ah! This is so exciting.
You quickly ditch your phone, tossing it into the passenger seat before driving home.
Upon your arrival at your building’s parking lot, you quickly shimmy out of your car and jog towards the front door in excitement, barely able to contain yourself when you think about all the new accounts that have followed you and interacted with you because of that one interaction with @archurback4me.
You unlock the door to your building’s lobby and hurry inside but just as quickly, you bump into what seems to be a brick wall.
Except, it isn’t a brick wall—it’s your annoying neighbor’s chest.
(Who’s also really sexy.)
“Ow,” you mumble, reaching up to rub your nose to soothe the impact of colliding face first with his body.
“Can’t you watch where you’re going?” he grumbles but doesn’t seem to have any intention to rid himself of the proximity between you two.
You shoot him a glare and part your lips to shoot a comeback but you stop yourself when you hear sniffles coming from your shoes. Your head tilts down and your eyes are met by a brown Dobermann sniffing your feet and calves.
“Stop that, Bam,” he says as he gently tugs on the leash, putting an end to the dog’s greeting to you.
You’ve seen his dog before and—unlike him—the dog is pretty sweet.
“Oh, hi, you,” you coo, reaching your hand out to Bam’s snout to let him get a sniff of you and he does, tail wagging back and forth.
You glance up at your shitty neighbor, who is just staring at you with a soft scrunch between his thick brows. You hate how good he looks. Someone with a face that pretty shouldn’t have an attitude that foul, it makes them ugly.
Your brow quirks up, your way of asking for permission to pet his dog without giving him the satisfaction of asking him verbally.
His response is a simple shrug of his shoulders, which makes you instantly turn your attention back to Bam. Your hand starts stroking over his soft head, giving him chin and tummy scratches.
The dog leans into your touch, seemingly craving more and you intend to do that. You squat down but in the instance that you do, you regret it.
Bam instantly lunges at you and it makes you lose your balance, his strength is enough to knock you over and fall flat on your ass with a soft thud on the hard tiles. You don’t even get the chance to process what’s going on when Bam climbs onto your body and licks at your face, coating it in his slimy kisses.
“Bam!” his owner shouts, hands flying towards his dog’s harness immediately to get Bam off you and he finally does.
You wipe your wet cheeks with the sleeves of your shirt before rising to your feet again, dusting off your pants.
“Sorry about that, he can get pretty excited. Did you happen to eat any chicken today?” he asks you and you have to pretend to not be shocked with the way he’s interacting with you as if he views you as an equal and not an insect, like he usually does.
You soothe the sting in your elbows from the fall by rubbing it with your hands as you frown at him. “Yeah, I did.”
He slowly nods at your words and waves a warning finger at Bam, dark eyes silently lecturing him like a parent to their child in public.
Bam doesn’t care, though, simply continues to run in circles and chase his own tail.
“He lacks manners sometimes,” he mumbles to himself as he stares at his dog—that’s cutely running in circles like an idiot.
“Hm,” you pause, “like his owner?”
Smack cam.
His head snaps at you, an agitated frown on his brows. He clearly does not like that.
With that, you turn on your heels and head to the elevator without looking back at him but in your peripherals, you notice that he’s still standing there, glaring at you.
You click on the button to summon the elevator to avoid his intense gaze, he’d bore you into the ground if you were to look at him right this moment.
Unfortunately, the silence doesn’t last long enough.
“You literally complain about every little thing like a fucking granny, give me a break.” His voice is raised with the intention that you can hear him loud and clear, after the distance you put in between you two—his tone full of venom and mockery.
“And you game loud as fuck every minute of the night like a fucking loser. How about you give me a break?” you retort, foot tapping against the tiles underneath your shoe in impatience as you wait for the elevator to arrive.
He replies, “It’s not my fault your bedroom is right next to my gaming setup.”
Right, you told him about that fact during one of your many nightly adventures that are located at his front door with balled fists and flared nostrils.
But it’s not your fault either.
The elevator dings and you can finally release that breath you were holding, chest slowly deflating. You place one foot inside before turning your head in his direction to glance at him, eyes meeting his angry gaze.
“It’s not my fault either. I guess you’re just gonna keep seeing me in front of your door every other week, asking you to be a decent fucking human and be considerate of others.” You take one step into the elevator just so the doors don’t close on you after the words coated with poison leave your lips, almost stinging your own tongue. “And you have the audacity to blame that poor dog for his lack of manners? Seems like someone can’t take responsibility.”
You fully step into the elevator without another word but that’s not necessary when you see the surprised look on his face before hopping in.
That’s what he gets, you suppose.
Once you enter your apartment, you toss your keys onto the accent table by the door and kick off your shoes, leaving them unorganized by the door. You saunter into your bathroom and quickly strip, turning the water on in your shower to heat it up.
However, right as you’re about to step in, there’s angry banging on your front door.
Ah. Whoever could that be?
You wrap a big white towel around your naked body and approach your front door, creating a small gap as you open it whilst hiding your body behind it.
Why the fuck is he here?
“I’m moving my gaming setup to my room tonight. If I hear one more goddamn complaint from you, I’m making my dog shit all over your fucking doormat,” he pauses, big black eyes glaring into yours. He leans in a bit closer and it seems like only then that you realize he’s been pushing your front door further open with his elbow. “Are we clear?”
His furious gaze almost stings you. Summoning daggers to shoot into your skin. Planting a thorned vine around your throat. Letting it sink its sharp teeth into your flesh until you bleed out. That’s the only way you can describe his suffocating glare.
His breath fans over your face, a subtle reminder that he’s standing close. Too close.
You swallow in an attempt to rid yourself of the drought in your throat he just created. “It doesn’t matter where you move it to. If I hear you, I’m going to complain. Whether that’s right next to my bedroom wall or at the end of your corridor, you fucking freak.”
And with that, you slam the door shut in his face before he can say anything else.
Who does he think he is?
Threatening you his dog’s feces. What a freak!
You huff to yourself as you stare at the closed door for a moment longer before angrily stomping to the bathroom. You reach for your phone and notice some more notifications from Twitter, which instantly reminds you of what happened earlier today and makes you forget about the interaction with your neighbor just now.
Should you message the account? You totally want to! The owner of the account has posted occasional pictures of his body parts but never his face. No matter what he looks like physically, he’s so fucking attractive for his fantasies and the way he speaks.
You scroll a bit through the account until you see a picture of the account owner’s hand, captioned;
‘For the people who asked for a picture of my hand… Lol.’
With a picture of his veiny hand.
Wow.
Fuck.
Your eyes trail the outline of their fingers, nails, veins, wrist, knuckles. You’d love to have that pulling on your hair, spanking your asscheek, wrapped around your throat.
Should you just…?
Message them?
Let’s list the outcomes.
1.) Worst case scenario—they brutally reject you.
2.) Average case scenario—they never reply.
3.) Best case scenario—they reply and reciprocate the flirtatious energy.
You could live with any scenario, even the worst one. It’s just a stranger on the internet anyway.
But his private messages must be blowing up. With over 80,000 followers and thousands of likes and comments, you doubt he’d ever even see your message.
Fuck it.
Shoot your shot.
You tap the share button and choose to send the post of his own hand to him in a private message and then you tap the text box to add a few words.
Mind racing with all the things you could say, your thumbs anxiously hover over the keyboard as you contemplate your options.
Then, you start typing before you can even think it through and you hit send without another thought.
Fuck!
You | 6:31PM
(You shared @archurback4me’s tweet with @archurback4me.)
hi could you maybe not share pictures of my new necklace? people might want to steal it
Fuck. You really just implied his hand is a necklace to you, wanting it wrapped around your throat at all times. You crazy bitch.
You stare at your phone a little while longer but nothing changes. You deeply inhale and breathe out a long sigh that carries a pinch of disappointment before ditching your towel and getting into the shower.
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As you get out of the shower, you can’t help but immediately lunge at your phone, the events from before your hour-long shower booming in your mind when you check your Twitter.
Holy shit.
No messages. What a surprise.
You have requested messages but it’s just bots claiming to be sugar daddies, roleplay accounts or guys wanting you to rate their penis.
You’re a lost cause.
You groan immaturely as you toss your phone aside, drying your body with a pout on your lips and a slight frown decorating your brows.
Your phone keeps buzzing and your heart threatens to implode within your ribcage, yet every time you check it’s just a notification about your tweet being liked again or some loser in your private messages talking to themselves.
Stop it. You’re like a teenager waiting for a response back from the popular guy at school, grow up.
You perform your usual routine before getting dressed in a new pyjama set, loving the way the fabric feels against your freshly shaven legs.
You make yourself a late night dinner, eating it by yourself like a loser before heading into your room and dropping onto your mattress, plugging your phone into the charger and turning over.
A gentle sigh pushes past your lips as you shut your eyes tightly, enough to make stars appear on the back of your eyelids.
Your phone buzzes again but you decide to ignore it. Sleeping time is precious.
You suppose you’ll check it out in the morning.
Wait.
What if it’s @archurback4me?
You try to ignore your thoughts. You need to sleep.
But you can’t ignore it.
You turn over and immediately reach for your phone, watching as it lights up and your heartbeat stutters in its rhythm when you see it’s a Twitter notification.
You open it up, anxiously biting down on your lip. Fuck, you need to calm down.
It’s a message. Holy shit.
Your thumb hesitates but eventually opens your private messages tab.
@ilikebigbootybitches2 | 12:09AM
Why did you block me lol
For FUCK’s sake. Did that Aaron guy really create a new account to send you another message?
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from screaming your head off before locking your phone and turning over again, trying to sleep for real this time.
You should just forget about it at this point.
And you finally, slowly, drift off into a deep slumber, without a single sound coming from your neighbor’s apartment.
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The sunlight peeks through your curtains, causing you to swallow down the curse that’s sitting on the tip of your tongue. You really need to get darker curtains.
You crack your eyelids open and glare at the ceiling, softly sighing as you bring your hands up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. You reach for your phone, noticing a few more notifications from messages, Instagram and Twitter. You check your messages first, replying to Jimin’s question about whether he should cut his hair or not.
Then you open Instagram, noticing the likes people have left on your story—a picture of you hanging out with Jimin.
And then, with a deep sigh, you open Twitter, scrolling through the hundreds of notifications about your tweet being liked and retweeted. You should’ve muted that damn tweet before going to sleep.
You notice you’ve gotten new private messages and you already hold your heart to not be disappointed.
@cockandballt0rture
1 message
You sigh in annoyance and open to read it.
@cockandballt0rture | 8:43AM
hey cutie
You fight the urge to roll your eyes.
@ilikebigbootybitches2
4 messages
For fuck’s sake. Doesn’t this guy know when to give up? You open the conversation nonetheless.
@ilikebigbootybitches2 | 6:01AM
I didn’t even do anything
I’m sorry if I said something wrong
Yo unblock me bitch
Goodmorning beautiful
What a fucking freak. These were all sent in the span of 2 hours. What a red flag.
Your mood is worsening the more time you spend in your private messages tab.
@archurback4me
2 messages
You’re not even in the mood to keep checking, you just…
Wait.
Holy fucking shit.
Is that…?
It is.
It’s him.
He replied.
A lump forms in your throat and it unleashes a bag of sand all over your tongue, drying out your mouth in the process. Why the hell are you so nervous? Just check the messages!
Average case scenario has been thrown out the window. It’s either brutal rejection or reciprecation.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
Your thumb taps the unread messages and your eyes intently watch as his response is revealed to you.
@archurback4me | 2:12AM
Necklace, huh? Lol. Can’t lie, I like that a lot. That’s a good one.
First time talking to me and you’re already demanding and claiming me? ‘Brat galore’ for sure. Someone needs to teach you some manners, Angel.
Holy shit.
Oh, shit. What the hell?
Why is your heart pounding in your throat? You wanted this.
It’s excitement. With a mixture of anxiety, maybe. Just breathe. You’ve always got good comebacks, make use of them!
Okay, you will. You wanted him to reply and he did. Now, think about what you want to say to make sure this conversation keeps going.
You decide not to answer just yet, it’s barely 10AM. Go wash your face and brush your teeth before you even begin to think about being horny.
You rub your eyes once more and swing your legs off the bed. Damn, you slept well tonight. You actually didn’t hear a thing from next door. You won’t applaud him for it but you’re glad you’ve finally slept undisturbed a whole night.
You freshen up, make yourself breakfast, lazily watch TV. You do every and anything to get your mind off of that message. Unfortunately, you’re an impatient bitch.
You | 11:16AM
someone needs to teach me manners? i don’t think anyone has the capability to put up with me like that lol. being annoying is like my second nature
You almost want to scream at the amount of strength you use to not cringe at yourself. It’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid, holy shit.
You continue to watch TV, satisfied with just having a lazy Sunday.
2 hours in, you’re chewing obnoxiously loud on some Cheetos, chugging back a can of soda as you’re deep into this murder-mystery show, pausing several times to explain your theories at the wall like a fucking loser.
Damn, you need friends.
Your phone buzzes.
You absentmindedly glance at your phone before back at the TV, shoving some more cheese balls into your mouth.
Until the notification registers in your brain.
You almost choke when you lunge at your phone and unlock it.
Twitter notification.
Fuck.
@archurback4me | 1:23PM
Are you challenging me? Lol
Oh.
Yes. Yes, you are.
Would you look desperate if you replied right away?
Man, fuck it! You’re not a high schooler. It’s a Sunday and you have nothing better to do.
Your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you type in your message and send it.
You | 1:24PM
that depends. do you like to be challenged?
You return your attention to your TV, fighting so hard not to glance at your phone.
It’s easier when you remember it takes him a while to respond anyway, so no need to—
Your phone buzzes.
You immediately lunge at your phone as if his message contains an acceptance letter from Harvard Law.
@archurback4me | 1:27PM
Who doesn’t like to prove others wrong? Especially when the others in question are brats that love to run their mouth lol
Why are you getting horny over some random text? Get yourself together!
You | 1:28PM
and how would mr. smartass know i’m a brat that loves to run her mouth?
@archurback4me | 1:28PM
Aside from you literally just proving my point by talking to me like this and your username being @bratgaIore?
Scrolled through your account a bit. Your captions tell me everything I need to know lol
Nice panties btw
Nice panties?
But you didn’t send him any photos of your…
Holy shit.
He scrolled far enough on your account to find the one indecent picture you posted months ago, a photo of you bent over in the mirror with your perky ass in the air, showcasing the small patch of slick that had leaked from your pussy, through the baby blue colored fabric.
Your face isn’t even in the picture nor are there any recognizable features but publishing photos of yourself on your porn account makes you nervous so you try to avoid it at all costs.
So, why the hell do you find yourself digging up the blue panties from the picture in your drawers right now? Stop!
What are you even doing?
You | 1:35PM
panties?
oh you mean these?
(You sent a photo.)
You can’t believe you just sent him a photo of you on your knees, camera placed behind you, angled at your ass with only the panties covering your buttcheeks and a slightly arched back. What the hell is wrong with you?
He didn’t even have to say or ask anything, you really just did that on your own accord. Are you insane? Since when do you do stuff like this?
@archurback4me | 1:37PM
Lmfao
Fuck lol yeah those
You’re fine as fuck lol
Did you take that just now? For me?
Fuck. Is it that obvious? Now you seem desperate.
You | 1:38PM
you wish
@archurback4me | 1:40PM
Lol. Barely exchanged 5 messages and you’re already driving me up the fucking wall
You | 1:41PM
i already told you no one can put up w me and i take pride in that 🫶
@archurback4me | 1:44PM
Oh, I’m not saying I can’t handle that smart mouth of yours
I’m saying I wanna fuck the shit out you lmao
Oh.
Okay.
Why are your thighs clenching and why is your pussy tingling?
You | 1:45PM
you think i’d let you?
@archurback4me | 1:47PM
You’d beg me babe
Fuck. He’s so fucking cocky. You can’t help but love everything he’s saying.
You | 1:48PM
you sound confident
@archurback4me | 1:48PM
I am. Are you chickening out after all that spewing?
You | 1:49PM
as if
He doesn’t respond for another while so you check his account. He has a new tweet.
‘I’m so fucking hard. Lol’
11 RTs. 54 likes.
Oh. Okay. That’s cool.
@archurback4me | 1:51PM
So, you agree that you’d let me?
You | 1:51PM
aren’t you being a little too cocky?
@archurback4me | 1:53PM
Lmfao
Don’t you like it?
Fuck. You do. You really do.
You | 1:54PM
maybe
but only because i’m cocky too
@archurback4me | 1:55PM
Yeah lol I can tell
And I’ll fuck it right out of you. Dumb girl
Ah, shit. He’s really getting to you.
You | 1:55PM
ur the dumb one 😒
@archurback4me | 1:57PM
Sure I am
For letting you run your mouth like this and not being able to show you the consequences
Already starting to piss me off
You | 1:58PM
good. i enjoy pissing men off. y’all don’t deserve to smile
@archurback4me | 2:00PM
LMAO
Ok you made me laugh
Only makes me wanna fuck your face more though
You | 2:02PM
but you won’t so there’s really no need to talk big game
@archurback4me | 2:03PM
Lmao
You | 2:03PM
what’s so funny i wanna laugh too
@archurback4me | 2:04PM
Nothing
I’m laughing ‘cause I don’t think anyone’s ever been able to piss me off solely through DMs before
You | 2:05PM
yeah well i’m not gonna keep repeating myself
@archurback4me | 2:07PM
Trust I’ll fuck the shit out of you one day. Dumb brat. Make you drool all over my dick like you’re fucking stupid
Damn. Damn. DAMN. You’ve never folded this easily over some sexts, what is he doing to you?
You | 2:09PM
and that day won’t be anytime soon so i’ll say whatever the hell i want in the meantime 😝
@archurback4me | 2:10PM
Lmao
Right
Are you alone right now?
You | 2:12PM
yep
why
@archurback4me | 2:12PM
No reason
Just been thinking about those panties since you showed them
You | 2:13PM
oh these?
(You sent a photo.)
You know you’re petty for sending him a picture of your middle finger but you couldn’t help it.
@archurback4me | 2:14PM
LMAOOOOO
Mannnn
I was excited too
You | 2:16PM
tell you what
i’ll give you another glimpse if you can prove your latest tweet to me
@archurback4me | 2:17PM
My latest tweet?
You | 2:17PM
yep
@archurback4me | 2:18PM
Ah. I see. Lol.
You don’t reply just yet, waiting to see if he takes you up on your offer. Or compromise, whatever you want to call it.
A few minutes of no interaction go by and you can only assume he might actually be doing it.
Then, your phone buzzes.
@archurback4me | 2:22PM
(🕷️🥀 sent a photo.)
Another lump forms in your throat as you tap the message, allowing it to show you the photo he sent you.
And holy fucking shit.
Low angle, hand gripping his massive boner through his grey sweatpants, tank top lifted to his belly button, happy trail leading down his toned abs and disappearing under the hem of his sweats.
@archurback4me | 2:22PM
Satisfied?
Fuck, you can’t even put into words how hot this is right now. You stare at the photo for a few minutes, your poor bottom lip swollen from how hard you’ve been chewing and sucking on it.
You immediately spread your legs, aiming your front camera right at your sex from a low angle—whilst making sure to keep your face out of it—and capturing the big wet patch on your pussy that proves your arousal at this moment.
You | 2:25PM
(You sent a photo.)
does this answer your question?
@archurback4me | 2:27PM
Damn you’re so
Lmao.
Lmfaooooiwannafuckyousobadooooo
You that wet from being called a dumb girl?
You | 2:27PM
LMAOOOO
but no. i’m that wet from pissing you off. dumbass
@archurback4me | 2:28PM
Yeah, you’re doing a great job at it.
But that’s okay
It’s great even. Keep running your mouth
You | 2:28PM
yeah?
@archurback4me | 2:28PM
Absolutely
Gonna be that much sweeter when I fuck you silly and you’re just gonna be a dumb cock hungry whore swearing you didn’t mean to say all that
You | 2:29PM
then you clearly don’t know me that well
@archurback4me | 2:30PM
You’re right I don’t
Tell me a bit about yourself, angel
Oh, shit. What do you tell him? How much do you say? How much do you keep private? You’ve never gotten to this stage in sexting, it’s usually just horrible questions about what you’re wearing and whether you’re wet. It’s never gotten to a personal stage before.
You | 2:32PM
hmm what do you wanna know?
@archurback4me | 2:33PM
Everything, princess. I’m a bit intrigued
I’d like to know all about you
Do you work? Study? What brings you to this side of Twitter?
Oh, that’s… surprising. You’d think he rarely gives the people in his DMs the time of day, you wonder what he finds intriguing about you. Is it really just the fact that you can get him so worked up without having to do much more than put your annoying mouth to use?
Maybe he has the same problems as you, boring fucking people in your DMs and now someone has come along that piques your interest. You’re relieved you piqued his interest as much as he did yours. Well, maybe not as much but enough to ask you about your personal life.
You | 2:35PM
i don’t really work or study. i have a degree in social work and my parents are currently in the process of building a school so i’ll be working there once it’s finished
and i came to this side of twitter because i’m horny as fuck lol
@archurback4me | 2:37PM
Ah, interesting
And yeah… I suppose that was a dumb question lol
You | 2:39PM
just now realizing that ur dumb? lol
@archurback4me | 2:39PM
Lol
Don’t piss me off
You ok w being called a slut and stuff right? I’ve seen you tweet about it before but still wanna make sure
You | 2:39PM
yeah i like it a lot when done right. thanks for making sure
@archurback4me | 2:40PM
No need to thank me for that
Is Angel your name?
You | 2:40PM
you can call me angel
@archurback4me | 2:40PM
I can but it doesn’t make sense to me
You | 2:40PM
wdym?
@archurback4me | 2:41PM
I mean that you’re a fucking brat and nowhere near angelic
You | 2:42PM
lol
well now i hope it stings you every time you call me angel
@archurback4me | 2:43PM
Lol
You’ve made me so fucking hard
I can’t stand you
You | 2:43PM
lol
ur a bit easy
@archurback4me | 2:43PM
Coming from miss idk-you-but-don’t-spread-pics-of-my-necklace-aka-your-hand
You roll your eyes and chuckle, moving your camera downwards and recording as you push your panties to the side. You drag your finger up your wet slit and slowly pull it away, showing the camera just how wet you are when the string of slick stays connected to your fingers as you pull them away from your sex.
You rewatch the video a few times, eyes glued to the way your fingers slide your panties to the side to reveal your bare pussy to the camera. With your pussy glistening under the sunlight, it looks quite mesmerizing. Your teeth pick at the inside of your cheek as you add it to your message.
You | 2:48PM
lol touché
but i never said i wasn’t easy
look where it’s got me
(You sent a video.)
The jolt of electricity traveling up your spine can only be described as your heart skipping a beat. You can’t believe you just did that. Sure, you’ve sent inappropriate photos before, but you’ve never actually sent anyone nudes. Not anyone that wasn’t your romantic partner, at least.
You watch in silence as the typing bubble pops up and then disappears. Fuck. You wonder what he wants to say.
Several minutes pass. Shit, did you overstep?
You get up from your couch to get yourself a cold drink in hopes it’ll cool you down but after chugging the entire can of soda, you realize nothing is going to help you right now.
Fuck. Why are you panicking? Calm down. He’s just–
Your phone buzzes.
@archurback4me | 2:58PM
(🕷️🥀 sent a video.)
@archurback4me reacted to your video with ‘❤️’!
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
He’s full on stroking his rock hard dick, precum oozing from the tip, shaft wet and lubed up. Fuck. It’s so fucking hot.
You can’t help yourself as you jog to your room, jumping onto your bed and ditching your panties as you do.
You start pumping your fingers into your drenched pussy while watching the video, your own touch not doing enough for you. You wish he was here, ready to pound you for hours on end.
You click the voice memo option and hit record, holding your phone near your pussy as you start deliberately fucking your fingers into your sex faster to create the loud squelching sound as you try to keep yourself from moaning in the background but to no avail, you’re pretty sure a few faint moans can be heard in the voice memo but you don’t care. You’re so fucking turned on and it’s his fault.
Your thumb trembles as it hovers over your keyboard but just as quickly, your thumb slams down on the send button and you toss your phone to the side.
Ugh, what an odd feeling. This is weird.
Your teeth anxiously go on a rampage by tearing the loose flesh around your nails clean off your fingers as you await his response. He probably has multiple people in his DMs sending him these types of things, why would yours stand out?
But just like clockwork, your phone buzzes.
@archurback4me | 3:09PM
Are you trying to fucking kill me
What the fuck
You | 3:10PM
just now realizing that?
ur not very bright are you
@archurback4me | 3:10PM
Lmao
You’re gonna regret talking this much shit
You | 3:11PM
threatening me with a good time?
surely you can do better than that
@archurback4me | 3:11PM
Lmfaoooo
I’m looking forward to fucking all that brattiness out of you
Corrupt you and use you as I please
Dumb fucking girl
You | 3:11PM
me too
but unfortunately ur all talk no action
@archurback4me | 3:12PM
LMAOOO you’re actually pissing me off
Gonna be thinking about you whenever I’m fucking someone now
And it’s all your fault
You | 3:12PM
LOLLLL
good
you should be thinking about me
@archurback4me | 3:12PM
Lol
Of course you would say that
Brat
You | 3:12PM
sorry
can’t help it if you make me feel special
@archurback4me | 3:13PM
How am I making you feel special
You | 3:13PM
telling me no one has ever pissed you off like this and we’ve just started talking
i told you i take pride in that
@archurback4me | 3:14PM
For fucks sake
You’re so annoying
Kinda reminds me of someone I know
You | 3:15PM
lol hope they’re sexy like me
yes i quite literally told you that all the way at the start
@archurback4me | 3:15PM
Lol
But people say it often
But they don’t turn out to be annoying like they claim
Just loud and boring
You actually being annoying makes me wanna literally fuck it out of you lol
You | 3:15PM
now you’ve got me giggling
@archurback4me | 3:15PM
You like the idea of being fucked to the point of breaking, right?
Apologizing for running your mouth while you’re sobbing and drooling all over me and your pillows
Like a proper stupid girl
You | 3:16PM
sounds like a dream come true
but it won’t happen so
@archurback4me | 3:17PM
I’m a freelancer so I’m usually free but my schedule is always full around this time of year
We can meet in a few weeks if you’re up for it. I’ll fly out to wherever you want me to
You | 3:16PM
interesting
what do you do for work?
if ur ok w sharing
@archurback4me | 3:16PM
Photographer
You | 3:16PM
ouuuu
gonna take pics of me when you’ve ruined me properly?
@archurback4me | 3:17PM
If you allow me
You | 3:17PM
hmm
okay
deal
@archurback4me | 3:18PM
Finally not a smartass answer
You | 3:18PM
ur right 🤔
lemme change that real quick
shut up freak
Suddenly, he types and then stops. It makes you wonder whether you said something wrong. You keep rereading your last few messages. Did you?
@archurback4me | 3:22PM
Infuriating little brat
Pissing me off
Anyway
I’m gonna go walk my dog but thanks to you I have to go fuck my hand first
Don’t miss me too much
I’ll talk to you later. x
You | 3:22PM
okay
send me a vid of you fucking my necklace
aka a vid of you masturbating
lol jkjk
i’ll try not to miss you
@archurback4me | 3:23PM
Lmaooo
Oh? 2 non-smartass answers back to back
You’re already breaking for me and I haven’t done anything
You | 3:24PM
piss off loser
go walk your dog
@archurback4me | 3:25PM
Watch your mouth Angel
I will
Talk to you later
You | 3:26PM
sorry sir
baiii
You put your phone down and can’t help but smile widely, lips twitching at its corners as you try to stop yourself from getting…too excited.
Because then it dawns on you.
You still don’t know his name.
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➳ pairing: investigative journalist!jeongguk x daycare teacher!reader. alternatively, spy!jeongguk x assassin!reader
➳ genre: smut, fluff, angst, fake marriage au, dad au, spy x family au
➵ word count: 484 (teaser) / 30.8k
➳ summary: there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school.
only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.
➳ warnings: themes of parenthood, raising a child, reader and jk are both orphans, reader has a past where she struggled with financially supporting her family, eldest daughter trauma, reader is insecure, fears of abandonment, mentions of violence and m*rder (but not explicit), mention of weapons (guns, knives, grenades, poison), jk has a bruise from boxing, descriptions of an explosion, blood is drawn twice (via kitchen knife and shrapnel from aforementioned explosion), (1) mention of weight loss, jk changes his appearance in an attempt to fit in, mention of a minor car crash, social drinking, scars (surgical/knife, bullet wounds), characters are liars for the sake of the plot, side characters are misogynists (satire), food descriptions, pet names (hers: angel, good girl, princess his: love).
➳ publish date: saturday, october 14th 8pm EST
➳ a/n: this fic is part of the "industry baby" collab hosted by the lovely @jeonjcngkook and @mercurygguk! i'm so happy to finally release this fic in honor of spy x family season 2!
smut warnings below the cut!
➳ smut warnings: virgin reader, sexual tension, body worship, nipple play, marking, oral (f receiving), fingering, hair pulling, unprotected sex, jk has a big dick, praising, stomach bulge, spitting, use of the word slut, marriage kink(?) he loves his wife so much, reader wants to be bred, cumshot
It’s well into the evening when Jeongguk walks you home. The path is quiet. It’s illuminated by the dim light of the street lamps. It feels like a scene from a movie you’ve once watched ー the origin of all your teenage fantasies. But this is real. You’re just a girl, standing in front of a boy, and that’s where it all begins.
“y/n?” The way he says your name brings you to a halt. His voice, although usually confident, is timid and uncertain. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right? We still have a lot to talk about.” He looks at you with stars in his eyes, although none of them belong to you, and they could never be yours.
Your lips press together in a tight line, nodding your head in affirmation. As you bid your goodbyes, you wonder if it would be inappropriate to give him a hug. After all, you’ve only just met the day prior, and this is nothing but pretend. Yet how will you ever grow accustomed to the touch of your husband?
Your arms remain crossed over your chest. You look down at your shoes, kicking a loose pebble at the front of your door, contemplating.
But he reaches for your hand, lightly grasping around your fingers. You jolt back as if he set your nerves aflame. Your gaze lifts toward his eyes, but it quickly lowers as Jeongguk descends down to one knee.
Your heart pounds against your chest, and you pray that he cannot hear it.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a proper ring…” He begins. “I hope you can accept this for now, and I swear I’ll get a diamond on your hand one day ー As big as you want.”
Jeongguk carefully pulls a small metal band from his pocket. It can easily be confused for the end piece of a keychain ー perhaps it’s something that his daughter had left behind in his coat, never to be remembered. But for Jeongguk, he knows perfectly well that it’s the pin from a grenade he had tossed the week prior on an escape mission. He slides the ring onto your finger, and although it is slightly too large, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I may not have been your first choice of a partner, and for all I know, I could have been dead last, but thank you for sticking by me. I swear I’ll take care of you. I’ll hold your heart with gentle hands, and I won’t ever let it break.”
After all, this is just pretend.
But for some reason, his voice sounds so earnest, and you almost believe him. To be frank, you never really cared about lavish weddings and seven carat diamonds. If you were to ever look for a companion, all you could ask for is an honest partner.
Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."
You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.
✰ release date — oct. 6, 2023 // 1:00pm est || on ao3 at 12:00pm est
✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader
✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.
✰ word count. — 5k+
✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.
Synopsis: Fear has never been a foreign concept to you. Your entire life has been shaped by the knowledge that you’re different, and fear of the stigma which might follow discovery. Although fire, earth, air and water Elementals have been public for decades, the fear-mongering around your kind hasn’t changed; something you have intimate knowledge of, having experienced it firsthand. Since then, you’ve done your best to hide your water powers. This is for your own safety, as your mom likes to say.
Safety flies out the window though, when you fall in love. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just any love, either, he’s the love. The person who makes you feel as though your darkest corners deserve to be seen. Unable to control your magic around him, you find yourself faced with a horrible fact: you need to break up.
A plan which proves difficult when Jungkook simply refuses to go. And maybe, just maybe, you find the constraints placed on yourself don’t make sense anymore.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: death of a parent (past), some emotional abuse
NSFW Warnings: oral (woman and man), multiple orgasms (woman), fingering, hand job, face-riding, sex outdoors (in a secluded, private area), very slight ass-play, breast play
Word Count: 15,200 (32,487 total)
Author's Note: Unfortunately, the new Tumblr text editor doesn't allow for more than 1,000 paragraphs per post. THIS IS PART 2. Please read Part 1 of Elemental here. Please, please, please reblog both if possible! In my experience, engagement tends to be worse when split into two parts.
[ Cross-posted to Wattpad here ]
WARNING: this is the second part of this fic. Please read part 1 here.
It’s around midnight when the front door opens. Startled, you pull from your reverie and lower your paintbrush.
The canvas is darker than before. Colors and feelings entwine, creating a contrast against the light background. Exhaling, you sit back on the stool to examine. Pride fills your lungs despite the half-finished state. It’s good, but not great and that’s okay.
Only a few days prior, you would have been too scared to start. Afraid of the worst, you couldn’t release the barest hint of magic. You feared that, once begun, it would be hard to pull back. Now, you consider the opposite. Maybe by containing yourself, you exacerbated the problem.
A throat clears from the hallway, a mirror to a prior memory.
Whirling around, you nearly knock over the canvas. Seokjin’s eyes widen, though you steady the painting fast. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice Seokjin seems tired. Heavy shadows line the skin beneath his eyes.
“Painting again?” he muses.
Slowly, you nod. “Starting to.”
Pushing himself off the door, Seokjin comes closer. “I like it,” he declares. “You’ve always been great, but this… this feels more honest.”
Following his gaze, you attempt to see the work from his perspective. You suppose that he’s right, but don’t have time to dissect why that would be.
“What’s up?” you ask, turning back again. “You were out late.”
Seokjin pauses, considering. “Yeah. Decided to answer a call myself. Laundromat over on 8th – you know it?”
Immediately, you stiffen. That was your laundromat from earlier; the one you flooded and now, you’re entirely too conscious of having left your hamper at the front door.
Seokjin lifts an eyebrow.
Last year, his parents retired, bequeathing to him a magical consulting business. He employs mainly Elementals, contracting them to clean up situations. Sometimes said situations are caused by Elementals and other times, they’re natural. For example, a fire Elemental could be called to heat a building without power in a snowstorm.
Or possibly, one might request an air Elemental to dry out a flood.
“I know that place,” you say at last. “What happened?”
“Couple of pipes burst. Flooded the lower level. Most of the water had drained by the time I got there, but they needed help drying equipment.”
You deflate a little. “Oh. Glad you could help.”
“Mhm.” Seokjin tilts his head. “Your ex-boyfriend was there.”
“Oh?” you manage to squeak.
“Yup.” He pops the p. “Until I saw him, I assumed it was an accident. But then your ex-boyfriend was there, and I came here and saw your laundry by our door. Is there something you wanted to tell me, Y/N?”
“Ugh,” you groan, covering your face with both hands. “Fine, yes – it was me. I had to use a different laundromat, but then Jungkook showed up and we fought and I just – lost control. I was going to fix this,” you insist, lowering your hands. “As soon as I could figure out how, but then there were sirens and I –”
“Whoa, Y/N – whoa.” Crossing the room, Seokjin grabs a chair to sit backwards. “I’m not blaming you, to be clear. Everyone loses control of their powers occasionally. Hell, if I had a nickel for every person I wind-shoved into a door.”
You blink. “That’s uh, oddly specific.”
“And true.” His smile is rueful. “Listen. I want to know if you did it because I want to make sure you’re alright. No other reason.”
Some of your tension drains. “Oh. That’s… nice of you.”
He looks at you strangely. “That’s what friends do, Y/N. They help each other. What, did you think I’d turn you in or something?”
Your lack of response must be obvious since Seokjin goes unnaturally quiet. Having it said out loud sounds silly but yes, that’s exactly what your mom raised you to think. Wreaking havoc of any kind – but especially magical – would always have consequences.
“Look.” Seokjin’s tone softens. “I know it’s scary. Our powers are strong and if we don’t control them, they tend to control us. But pretending magic doesn’t exist doesn’t make it disappear. It just means when things do happen, it’s unpredictable.”
“I don’t want this,” you sigh, the words spilling out. “I don’t want to always be scared, always terrified of losing control. I don’t want to hurt other people or push them away. Everything would be better if I were just normal.”
“Would it?” Seokjin muses. “In everything you just said, you never said you didn’t want magic.”
This leaves you silent since Seokjin is right.
In all your concern about hurting other people and wishing you weren’t afraid you’ve never once resented your magic itself. Sure, you want to be normal but normal for you means living without fear. Not living without magic.
“I… guess you’re right,” you murmur. “I hadn’t thought about that before.”
Seokjin nods. “I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for you, growing up. It’s hard for non-Elementals to understand our powers. Especially when you’re a kid.”
“It was,” you admit, glancing down.
Even now, admitting this feels like a betrayal because your mom tried her best. But maybe sometimes, trying your best isn’t the same as being what you need. While the intentions were good, the damage continues to live with you to this day.
“Suppressing a piece of yourself is never the answer,” Seokjin adds.
Your jaw tightens. “That’s easy for you to say,” you say, looking up. “You have two wonderful parents who support you. Your magic comes to you second nature. You rarely seem bothered by anything, let alone by your power.”
Lowly, Seokjin laughs. Dark hair falls into his face, leaning forward. “In control?” he scoffs. “Y/N. Just because I’m easy-going doesn’t mean everything is all good in here,” he says, tapping the side of his head. “I’m bothered by a lot of things, and magic is never easy.”
“Oh, yeah?” you shoot back. “When’s the last time you lost control, then?”
“Last month,” he says, automatic. “I drove to my parents’ place, got stuck in traffic and someone rear-ended me. I was so mad I summoned wind and slammed them into the next lane of traffic. Luckily, they weren’t hurt. Badly.”
You stare at him, open-mouthed.
“There was also this time last year,” Seokjin adds, undeterred. “I had a shit day, went to a bar after work. I was drinking alone, and one guy was harassing every woman in the place. He wouldn’t leave this one person alone, and I snapped. Blew a door open into his face. Guy needed five stitches.”
“I… I didn’t know all that.”
“I don’t usually tell people.” Seokjin sits back, slightly amused. “Personal flaws are terrible conversation starters. Those weren’t even the most embarrassing,” he warns. “The first time I had sex, I came so hard I made a mini tornado in the house. It woke up her entire family, who kicked me out with no pants.”
You try – and fail – to keep your lips from twitching. “Seokjin, that’s… awful.”
He laughs. “I got better at controlling it, alright? Just like you will. The threat is always there though,” he warns, his smile diminishing. “It’s like how, when you’re mad, sometimes you feel this undeniable need to punch someone. Occasionally, the urge wins, and you do punch someone. Magic is just another instinct, like that.”
“An instinct,” you murmur, turning this over in your mind.
Your magic has always reacted to your strongest emotions. Times when you felt angry or sad or – your cheeks heat – ecstatic with joy. Like with Jungkook.
“I don’t know what to do,” you admit softly. “I broke up with Jungkook, but that was a mistake. I love him. I want to be with him. But…”
“But you’re scared that you’ll hurt him.”
“Yeah.” You hesitate. “And I’m scared I’ll be hurt by him, if that makes sense.”
Seokjin nods. “It does. In college…” He pauses, as though debating whether to say the next part. “When I was in college, I had a girlfriend who didn’t know what I was. It was after the whole virginity-loss incident, and I was stubbornly pretending not to have magic.”
Your eyes widen. You didn’t know Seokjin went through a similar phase to you but then again, you suppose you don’t know much about him as an Elemental. Purposefully, you never wanted to open that door in case it led back to you.
“Pretending only works for so long, though.” His lips twist. “When I finally told her, she was scared. But… she promised me she loved me, and that we’d get through it.”
“What happened?”
“She started pulling away. Said she was busy studying and one night, I caught her making out with a friend. In some ways, it was a relief. But… I get what you mean.” Seokjin exhales. “Some people don’t want to understand, and you can’t make them.”
“I don’t think Jungkook is like that.”
“I don’t either.” Seokjin pauses. “He waited a long time at the laundromat, you know. He was there when I arrived, and he seemed… I don’t know. I asked all the standard questions, and when I asked if there was an Elemental, Jungkook was adamant there wasn’t. To the point where it seemed weird. Are you sure he doesn’t know what you are, Y/N?”
“I… don’t think so,” you say, your eyes wide. “Not unless he found out somehow. And if so, I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me.”
Seokjin clucks his tongue. “I guess he could say the same about you.” Smiling slightly, he pushes himself to stand. “Anyways, I wanted to let you know what happened and say I’m here if you need anything.”
Nodding, you prepare to brush this off as usual when something gives you pause.
Before, denial would have been your go-to. Avoiding responsibility and telling yourself that next time, you’d do better. Next time, you’d be stronger, but ultimately, nothing would change. Maybe it’s time to admit that it doesn't work. To acknowledge that if you really want change, you must take the first step.
The problem with ignoring emotions is they don’t disappear. All they do is hide, biding their time until you’re at your weakest to pounce. You’re so tired of living with fear.
Tired of pushing others away and calling it selfless. Most of all, you’re tired of living without Jungkook.
“I’d like that,” you admit. “If you have any resources to recommend…?”
Seokjin stares at you, stunned. “God, yes,” he says, shaking his head. “Wow – I never thought this day would come. Okay, so, first things first, we need to get you in class. Other Elementals learn to control their magic. They’ll help with coping mechanisms, teach you to release your energy and channel emotions. Oh!” He straightens. “And you should really find a therapist who specializes in magic. I can give the name of mine, but that might be a conflict.”
“Whoa – whoa,” you laugh, holding up both hands. “All of this sounds good, but maybe one step at a time?”
“Noted.” Seokjin turns to leave. “Let’s talk more tomorrow. Whatever you need, Y/N – that’s what friends are for.”
Warmth fills your chest, and you manage a nod. That hasn’t necessarily been your experience but slowly, you’re beginning to trust what he says. What Jungkook said in the past, asking you to trust him.
Cleaning your brushes, you cover the half-finished art and follow Seokjin into the hall. Before long, you’re in your own bed, staring up at your ceiling. It’s difficult to sleep, multiple realizations from the day coursing through your mind.
Tonight, Seokjin provided more love than you ever had growing up. Well – he provided greater understanding. Although your mom loves you, her love turned to fear instead of the help you craved. Important, because you now understand how deeply your magic is ingrained.
It’s something you spent a long time ignoring. And though you know your mom loves you, she doesn’t love your magic – which means she doesn’t love all of you. This realization hurts more than you’d care to admit.
Turning into your pillow, you bury your face as the tears come. Sadness radiates from the same place inside you where there once was a dam. Uncertain, you reach out and brush this with your consciousness. After a moment of hesitation, you absorb it. The pain becomes part of you; not in a bad way, but in a way that’s new and unnerving.
Lifting your head, you tentatively reach out and gather the tears. They form a sphere in mid-air, crystalline and pure. Wide-eyed, you remember your father doing the same. Whenever you would cry, he’d save your tears in case you wanted them later. Facing and learning to use your emotion is important, he often said.
This memory urges the tears to fall harder, turning back to your pillow. When you finally drift into sleep, it feels as though a weight has been lifted from your chest. For once, you don’t feel divided against yourself. For once, you fall asleep without fear of what tomorrow might bring.
Saturday morning, you wake up earlier than normal. Groping for your phone on the bedside table, you blearily open a chat to Jungkook’s name. His last text was on Sunday and, after rereading this several times, you wearily lower your phone. Tossing aside your covers, you pad into your bathroom and brush your teeth.
Some things can’t be fixed overnight. You need to think before reapproaching Jungkook, to consider what to say so he’ll understand. Or maybe he won’t. The thought of this very real possibility makes your heart twist, though you ignore it the best you can to get dressed.
After breakfast, you bring your dishes to the sink and stare at the faucet. Before, you would have avoided anything to do with magic, but now…
With a deep breath, you reach inward and extend a tendril of magic. The water responds, slowly at first and then, all at once. The dishes begin washing themselves, lifting a sponge to get themselves soapy.
Seokjin wanders out of his room, bleary-eyed. Walking right past you, he plods to the coffee pot and grabs a new filter.
“If you break more of my dishes, you should just get me a new set,” he mumbles.
Grin widening, you finish the dishes and put them away by hand. It’s intoxicating to use magic and have nothing bad happen. You almost forgot what that felt like. A small step, but to you, it was once insurmountable. Knowing this grants the courage to make other decisions.
Dressing quickly for the day, you walk out of your bedroom. “Did I tell you I went into an art store on Thursday?” you ask Seokjin, seated at the kitchen table.
He yawns. “That’s nice.”
“They wanted me to teach an art class.”
Abruptly, he sets down his mug. “Wait, seriously?” Seokjin’s eyes widen. “You should do that!”
“I plan to. Well.” You hesitate. “I wasn’t going to, but now I am. I think I’ll head there this morning.”
Seokjin nods, although something uncertain drifts across his face. Toying with the edge of his mug, he seems to be thinking. Waiting for whatever comes next, you rummage through your purse for your phone.
At last, he exhales. “That’s good. But…”
“But?”
“I just… don’t want you to be discouraged if this takes a while, Y/N. Changing your entire outlook on magic won’t be easy.”
Your fingers pause, and slowly, you close your bag. “What do you mean?”
“I mean progress isn’t always linear.” Seokjin’s frown deepens. “You’re going to backslide. That’s kind of inevitable. Even the most talented Elemental has times when they slip. If – or should I say when – that happens, I don’t want you giving up.”
Seokjin’s utter sincerity lessens the sting of his words. You can see the truth in this logic, even if it scares you. Part of you continues to wish for a magic solution.
“Thanks,” you respond. “I appreciate that, Seokjin.”
“Anytime.” He lifts his mug. “Now, go get that job so you can pay rent.”
“I knew you weren’t that generous,” you call as you leave the apartment.
Seokjin’s laughter is cut off by the elevator doors. Your walk to the train station is short, as is the train ride. Creative Courage is in the opposite direction of Jungkook’s apartment, but close enough that you can still smell the harbor as you walk.
Ascending the steps of the subway, it’s hard not to recall the first time you met Jungkook.
Three months ago, it was a muddled spring day. The type of day when the weather can’t make up its mind and a tank top or sweater might be equally needed. For once, the rain wasn’t your fault and you stood on the train platform, drenched at having been caught without an umbrella.
Jungkook stood on the opposite platform, parallel lines of train tracks between you. You were mostly alone – a situation which would typically put you on edge, but that day, it meant you noticed Jungkook sooner.
He stood near the edge, closer than you ever would. Giant, over-ear headphones rested over his head, which bobbed absent-mindedly to the beat. You had noticed him before that, nearly as soon as he cleared the turnstile.
Jungkook wore his hair longer then, pulled into a bun at the base of his head. His hands were chapped; he blew on them intermittently before stuffing them in his pockets. Cheeks red with cold, he glanced up and his gaze snagged upon yours.
Later, he said it felt as though the world stopped. You could corroborate. There was something about his gaze, intense and sincere, that robbed you of rational thought. A train roared between you, shaking the platforms and your stomach dropped.
By the time the train left, you assumed Jungkook would board, and the moment would end. Relegated to nothing more than a shared look between strangers. A what-if, not a has-been.
But then the train pulled away, and Jungkook remained. Lips parted, you stared while he jerked a single thumb over one shoulder. Eyes bright, Jungkook cupped both hands over his mouth.
“Want to get coffee?” he yelled across the tracks.
Uncertain who he was talking to, you glanced around and found the place empty. When you turned around, both eyebrows were raised. Already, you weren’t a spontaneous person and by now, you usually would have said no, but –
“Yes!” you called out. “Meet at the entrance?”
Jungkook nodded, his grin widening – if possible – as he spun around. You watched him sprint for the exit, taking the escalator two steps at a time. Ducking your head, you followed a similar route on your side of the tracks.
Riding the escalator, insecurities reared their ugly heads. What if you were mistaken about his intentions, what if you dropped something, or what if he wasn’t attractive as you remembered – but then, all this faded as he came into view.
The hour was dusk, with one or two street lamps penetrating the darkness. Jungkook emerged from his escalator, lit from behind, and some of your worries quieted. When he waved, slightly awkward, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite the multiple piercings, he somehow looked soft. He was also ridiculously, insanely beautiful and your hands itched to paint him.
Exiting the subway this morning, you attempt to refocus. It’ll do you no good to reminisce about Jungkook before Creative Courage. First, you get a job. Then, you learn to control your magic. Then you can beg for Jungkook’s forgiveness.
Maybe with some wiggle room in that order. Heading towards the art shop, you fish your phone from your pocket and scroll to his name. Stopping abruptly, you stare at Jungkook’s thread, bold with an unread text.
Your fingers hover a moment before pressing open.
Jungkook: I think you left one of your shirts at the laundromat. It was on the floor, I found it after you left [11:09 AM]
Clutching your phone tightly, you reread the message. Jungkook has a piece of your clothes. He has a piece of your clothes and is reaching out. Trying not to read too much into this, you text back.
Y/N: Oh, no! Thanks for grabbing. Can I stop by sometime to pick it up? [11:15 AM]
Y/N: I heard you ran into Seokjin at the laundromat [11:09 AM]
Wincing a little, you lower your phone. Your last text may be ill-advised, but you don’t want Jungkook to think that you’re hiding things.
Jungkook’s ellipses appear, then disappear several times before his next message.
Jungkook: yeah, he came in to fix things. Seemed to think an Elemental was involved [11:18 AM]
Frozen, you stare. Seokjin did say he asked Jungkook about there being an Elemental, but Jungkook had been adamant in his response to Seokjin. Did Jungkook… lie?
Skin prickling, you type your response. Not giving yourself time to second-guess, you press send and immediately head down the sidewalk.
Y/N: If an Elemental was involved, I guess Seokjin would be the person to call [11:22 AM]
Y/N: I’m on my way to a potential new job (do you know the art store, Creative Courage?) but I’m free later – I could stop by for the shirt? [11:22 AM]
Heading away from the harbor, you try to clear your head. Creative Courage is only a few blocks from the subway and once again, the bell tinkles when you step inside. This time, you aren’t surprised when Taryn pops out from behind the front counter.
“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “It’s you! Y/N, right?”
“That’s right.” You smile, side-stepping the door so as to not block the entrance. “Hi. I um, just wanted to stop by and see… well, I wanted to know if your offer still stands? To teach, that is.”
Beaming, Taryn claps both hands before her. “Oh my gosh, yes. I told Micah you’d be back! They were all like, ‘don’t get your hopes up,’ but I was like, ‘they’re already sky-high.’ And here you are!”
Your smile grows while she speaks, certain you made the right decision. Taryn looks nervous, which somehow serves to put you at ease.
“Anyways, come on in!” She steps aside, sweeping an arm over the room. “There aren’t any classes until the afternoon, so we can check out the space together. Maybe set up time for a demo. Oh, don’t worry,” she adds, noticing your look. “I know you’re amazing. This would be more about your teaching style. Understand the process, that type of thing.”
You nod. “I get it. That makes total sense.”
“Cool.” Taryn beams. “I’m just so excited.”
Showing you around, the two of you fall into easy conversation. Although you don’t have teaching experience, Taryn doesn’t seem worried. Everyone has a different learning style, she says. Students need free thinking instructors as much as structured.
At some point, Micah stops by to drop a kiss to her cheek. “Hey,” they say, noticing you for the first time. “I’m Micah. It’s nice to meet you – Y/N, right?”
Reaching out, you shake their hand. “Yes, that’s me.”
When you pull back, you blink at the streaks of dark grime on your skin.
“Micah!” Taryn gasps, noticing at the same time. “How many times have I said to use the special soap when you’re working with fire?”
Micah grimaces and turns. “I’m so sorry,” they say, wiping both hands on their apron. “Sometimes I get carried away in the workshop.”
“It’s totally fine.” You hesitate a moment before barreling on. “But I’m sorry – did I hear right? You were working with fire?”
Nodding, Micah drops their hands. They’re taller than both you and Taryn, with lithe muscles, short hair and a Power Puff t-shirt. They aren’t exactly what you pictured for a fire Elemental.
“Yeah,” they confirm. “I’m a fire Elemental. I use it a lot in my art – charcoal, and whatnot. Recently I’ve been getting into metal sculpture work.”
“Oh,” you say on an exhale. “That’s amazing. I’m a water Elemental, which explains all the watercolors.”
Micah’s eyes light up but before they can respond, Taryn lays a hand on their arm.
“Wash your hands first,” she insists and Micah laughs. Shaking their head, they leave, and Taryn turns to face you. “I didn’t know you were also an Elemental, Y/N! That’s so great. Maybe you and Micah can brainstorm a class someday. You know, an outlet for Elemental artists. How to use your magic creatively, or something.”
You stare, recognizing the genius in this and wondering why such a thing never occurred to you before. Magic has been second nature in art for so long – you never imagined it might be the same for others. Teaching Elementals to create with something they might fear fills you with a sense of hope.
You stay for a long time, chatting with both until Micah leaves to lead the afternoon class. Taryn eventually says goodbye as well, promising to be in touch to arrange your schedule. By the time you step outside, it’s close to dinner and you’re feeling better than you have in months. Good enough that, when your phone rings, you almost answer on reflex. Pulling from your pocket, you glance at the name and freeze.
Mom.
Feet rooted to the ground, you stare at her name and your happiness dims. Seokjin’s words come back, warning about a backslide. Less than twenty-four hours have passed since embracing your magic. You hoped for longer before confronting your mom.
Standing on the sidewalk, you deliberate long enough for the call to end. Slowly, you resume walking down the road. Without fully realizing why, you find yourself heading towards the harbor.
When your phone rings a second time, it somehow sounds urgent.
Mom.
Exhaling, you stop and press answer. “Hi, mom.”
“Y/N,” she breathes, her relief audible, and you’re suddenly saddled by guilt in addition to fear. “Thank goodness. I was about to call your roommate if you didn’t answer. Can’t be too careful these days, can you?”
You briefly close your eyes. “His name is Seokjin, mom. We talked about this.”
“Right, yes – of course. Seokjin. So, Y/N…” Her pause is weighted. “How are things?”
Resuming your course, the harbor comes into view. “They’ve been better, to be honest. I didn’t tell you everything earlier this week, mom. More happened than just losing my job.”
“Oh? What else happened? Are you okay, Y/N?”
“I – well, no,” you admit, correcting yourself. “I’m not okay. Jungkook and I broke up.”
Her silence is deafening, long enough that the sun slips behind a cloud, the water before you turning a blue-grey color.
“Oh, honey.” At last, she exhales. “I’m so sorry.”
Another pause follows, and your teeth grit while you wait for the ‘but.’ With your mom, there’s always a ‘but.’
“But… maybe it’s for the best?” she tentatively offers. “You remember your last break-up, don’t you? With that Elliot fellow. It was horrible and your magic, well – that’s not happening again, is it?”
Her voice is full of alarm, tightening your grip on your phone. The tingling in your chest spreads outward, waves in the harbor rising in tandem. One of them sloshes, haphazardly, over the pier.
“What are you asking me, mom?” you ask.
“Well, you remember how you… well, how your magic… after you broke up with Elliot, things didn’t go well. Did they, Y/N?”
“No, they didn’t, because I wasn’t well, mom.”
“Yes, of course, sweetheart. It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not, though,” you say, each word pouring from a place long ignored. Squeezing your eyes shut, you finally release. “Do you know how much it hurt growing up when something bad happened and rather than be sad for me, you only cared about magic? If I’d lost control. If someone else was hurt. I was hurt, mom, and you never seemed to notice.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “Of course, I noticed. Of course, I care that you’re hurt, Y/N. I just didn’t want things to get worse. That’s all.”
“Worse,” you say with a bitter laugh. “Mom. I broke up with my boyfriend and your response was that it was probably for the best. Do you want me to be alone?” you add, voicing aloud your worst fear. “It would be safer if I were, right?”
“Don’t twist my words, Y/N. Obviously, I want you to find someone and be happy. You have to admit though, you don’t have the best track record when it comes to romance!”
“So, that’s a yes.”
“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” she asks, sounding annoyed. “If you asked me whether I’d like you safe and alone or with someone and hurt – obviously, I’d rather you were safe. If that makes me a bad mom, then so be it!”
Turning away, you shake your head. “I don’t think that makes you a bad mom. I’m just trying to understand what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking my daughter called to attack me out of nowhere! Everything I did when you were a child was to keep you safe. Those floods,” she adds, putting two and two together. “The ones in the city this week – they were you, weren’t they?”
“Yes, mom,” you snap, eyes flying open. “The floods were me. I broke up with Jungkook because I couldn’t control my magic and ironically enough, it only made me spiral further. I was so scared of hurting him, I ended things and hurt us both. You didn’t even ask why we ended, mom.”
“Where are you now, Y/N?” she demands.
Glancing around, wind whips your hair and storm clouds gather. You realize it was probably a bad idea to have this conversation so close to a large body of water.
“Near the harbor. I was leaving a job interview when you called. Oh,” you add, an aside. “I got a new job as an art teacher.”
“The harbor?” Your mom bypasses everything else. “That’s dangerous, Y/N – are there people around? You shouldn’t be talking about your magic in front of them. They could assume the wrong thing.”
“What, mom? That I’m an Elemental? Because I am one.”
“Y/N!”
“It’s the truth!” you blurt, a wave crashing over the pier. “I am an Elemental and I do have magic. You can’t keep pretending otherwise!”
“I know that, Y/N, but your magic doesn’t have to define you!”
“It kind of does.” Voice breaking, you take in the roiling sea. “It does define me. I’m an Elemental. I have magic, and I can’t change that fact. Pretending to be someone I’m not hasn’t worked.”
“I don’t want you to be someone you’re not, Y/N. I just want you to be safe.”
“You can’t protect me from everything.”
“No, I can’t.” Your mom’s next words are rushed. “Do you know how much that kills me? I couldn’t save your dad, and now, I can’t save you. No matter what I do, the world doesn’t care about who you are, only what you can do. I hid so much from you back then,” she adds. “Maybe that was wrong of me. Maybe you should have known about the casual threats from our neighbors. Teachers who wondered if you’d be better off home-schooled. People I thought were our friends ignoring you in public. You don’t remember what it was like, Y/N.”
The first raindrops on your face. “I’m sorry you went through that, mom. Really, I am.”
“I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, honey.”
“That’s not what I think.”
Even as you say this though, a knife twists in your chest. It’s a moment you could move past and reconcile. You could hang up, knowing you had a difficult conversation with your mom, and it ended happily.
Or you could tell her the rest. Or you could lay it all on the line and for once, not care that it might cause complicated feelings.
Overheard, the clouds darken. In the harbor, boats creak against lines holding them to the pier. You should try and control your magic but stubbornly, you don’t want to. You’ve spent so long repressing and pretending; once the dam breaks, it can’t be repaired as easily.
“I don’t think that,” you slowly admit. “But mom… I also don’t think you know who I am. My magic is a part of me. Being an Elemental is part of me. For so long, I’ve been afraid of part of myself and a lot of that came from you. Other people made it worse, but it started with you.”
Shocked silence follows. While you wait for a response, you cringe from the phone. Nausea swirls in your stomach, threatening to swallow you like ocean waves.
“I… that’s not fair,” your mom whispers at last. “That’s not fair at all, Y/N.”
Jaw tight, you look at the shore. “I didn’t say it was fair, I said that’s how I feel. What would dad say if he was here? He loved his magic. He always said to use magic for good, but I don’t know how to use it at all without hurting people! I don’t even know myself. That’s not what he would have wanted.”
“Who can know what he’d want?” your mom demands. “Your father is dead, Y/N. He’s gone, he can’t come back, and I raised you the best I could without him. Your entire life, I’ve tried to keep you safe, and I can’t believe you blame me for that.”
Reeling backwards, you stare at the waves. “Kept me safe at what cost, though? I have no idea how to use my magic, mom. I live in constant fear of hurting someone. Each day, I walk a razor’s edge and fall into bed, exhausted. How is that keeping me safe?”
Waves smash against the pier, higher than you’d like. Taking a step backwards, you avoid the water and turn inward. Everything inside you is churning – your anger, your guilt, the sudden injustice of all your mom’s words. Although you try and calm yourself, it only serves to add fuel to the fire.
“Don’t do that, Y/N,” your mom says.
“Do what?” you snap. “Tell the truth?”
“Don’t pretend I’m the villain,” she counters. “Are you even in control right now?”
Your anger surges, along with the waves. “Of course, not!” you blurt. “No, mom, I’m not in control. Seokjin recommended classes, but I haven’t had the chance to take them. I –”
“You should not be going to class for magic. It’s too dangerous!”
Mid-sentence, you realize something you should have known from the start. Your mom isn’t ready to have this conversation. No matter how cathartic it would be for you, she’s not going to be ready to hear this right now.
“I have to go, mom,” you say, choking a little. “Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
“Y/N. Don’t you dare hang up on me!”
“Bye, mom,” you whisper, and press end.
The phone rests in your hand, your entire body taut as you resist the sudden urge to throw it in the ocean. In this half-movement, you spot the horizon and shudder to a halt. Thunder booms up above, the waves roiling erratically with each lifted heartbeat.
Seokjin warned you this couldn’t be solved in an instant. You’re so used to suppressing your magic, you have no idea how to turn it off once it starts. Your laundromat realization feels ages away, your magic a force bigger and more powerful than you are.
Water swiftly withdraws from the pier, and you sigh in relief, only to realize it’s gathering. Going utterly still, you stare in horror at the building wave. Your panic rises, fueling your power further as you raise trembling hands.
Struggling, you cast your thoughts outward in a wide net. Your father never mentioned this, though. He never explained how to divert a large wave, probably thinking there was plenty of time. You were only five when he died. Hopeless, you watch as the wave crests and wonder if this is how you end. Morbid, you wonder if you can die from drowning.
When the wave hits, wood crunches from the pier underneath you. Yelping, you’re drenched head-to-toe in water as it retreats to form a bigger wave.
Shaking, you lift both hands again. You try to remember what Seokjin told you – clear your mind, focus, envision the outcome you want –
Other words overlap with his; yours, your mom’s, the news.
This won’t work. You can’t do this. Someone will see. Magic is dangerous.
Swiftly, the wave approaches and your dread only grows. Fear overtakes, and–
“Y/N, MOVE!”
Footsteps pound the pier as you spin around. The next seconds seem to occur in slow-motion. Jungkook sprints past you, gaze determined and jaw set. Eyes wide, you stare as he skids to a stop, clenching his fists.
Jungkook faces the ocean, wind whipping his hair. Your wave looms, several feet high – until a jagged line of rock bursts from the sea. The two of them connect, water and earth meeting with an ear-splitting boom. Water sprays over the top of the rocks, but nothing more happens.
A beat passes, or two while you stare at the harbor in shock. Earth… just burst from the ocean, saving the city from your rogue wave.
Memories rise to the surface, one by one. The fact that Jungkook lives near a train stop that often shakes his building. When the barista in your coffee shop dropped the tea kettle, Jungkook looked nearly as stricken as you did – as though it was his fault. When Jungkook freed you from the laundromat, opening a door that shouldn’t have opened.
Each of the pieces falls into place, forming a truth that knocks the wind from your lungs.
“You…” Eyes wide, you stare. “You’re a…”
Emotion churns in Jungkook’s gaze, turning to face you. “Yeah,” he admits. “I’m an earth Elemental. I’ve… been trying to figure out how to tell you.”
Head spinning, you shake your head and the world tilts beneath you. At first, it’s a metaphor, swiftly made real by the events of today. Briefly, your vision blurs as your knees start to buckle.
“Whoa,” Jungkook blurts, rushing forward. His arms wrap around you, keeping you upright. “Are you alright, Y/N?”
“I…” Dazed, you glance at the ocean. “That was you, just now? With the rock?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook winces. “Sorry about the dramatics. I was trying to act fast, and it’s all I could think of. Didn’t want to cause an earthquake and create a second wave.”
He sounds slightly nervous, and you continue to stare. Genuinely, you don’t mean to be rude but you’re having trouble stringing two words together. Jungkook is an Elemental. Jungkook is an earth Elemental.
Jungkook’s smile fades, spurring you to speech.
“That’s not what I was thinking,” you blurt.
His brow furrows. “Oh. What are you thinking, then?”
“I…” You shake your head. “I was thinking that was really… hot. And you know, a general sense of relief that my out-of-control magic didn’t wreck the entire city. Oh, right,” you add, somewhat glum. “Seems like you already know, but I’m a water Elemental.”
“I know,” Jungkook murmurs.
He hasn’t released you yet, continuing to hold you. The waves in the harbor have returned to normal, although a slight mist continues to fall from the sky.
“Well, I wasn’t sure,” Jungkook corrects. “I started suspecting at the laundromat. Then I got your text and was in the area, so I decided to stop by. Glad I did,” he adds, his lips twitching. “I followed the storm to the harbor.”
“I confronted my mom,” you mutter. “She doesn’t have magic.”
Jungkook’s expression sobers. Although you haven’t told him everything, he knows the two of you have a tense relationship. Jungkook also knows your dad died when you were young. Possibly, he’s put two and two together by now.
“I see.” Jungkook pauses. “How are you feeling?”
Four small words and again, something inside you crumbles. You weren’t aware you had more to give. Collapsing into him, you rest your head on his chest. Holding onto you tightly, Jungkook soothes his hand up and down your back.
“That’s not an answer,” he murmurs, but the words are gentle. “Talk to me, Y/N. Do you want to go somewhere?”
Probably a good idea but right now the only place you want to be is with him. Shaking your head, you tighten your grip on his t-shirt.
“I probably should,” you admit. “Jungkook… you and I…”
His body stiffens. “Yes?”
Slowly, you lift your head. His gaze is dark, wary and it pierces deep in your chest.
“I feel awful,” you say. “It’s… been a long time since I told someone what I was. I was scared of hurting others. Scared of hurting you. That’s why I ended this. It had nothing to do with you, Jungkook,” you insist, the words pouring out. “I swear. I was so scared of hurting you with my magic – and I hurt you anyway. I am so sorry.”
Jungkook’s expression is inscrutable. “It had a little to do with me,” he says slowly.
“No.” You pause. “Well, maybe. I wouldn’t have been this scared with someone else. The way I feel about you, Jungkook? I’ve never felt like this before. It’s all new to me, and I couldn’t control my magic around you.”
His gaze remains steady. “How do I make you feel?”
“You make me feel… everything,” you whisper. “Hopeful and happy and scared and alive and I – I can’t control myself around you. When we touch, I…”
You bite your lip, embarrassed and one of his brows sketches upward.
“When we touch, you what?” Jungkook pushes.
You can’t seem to meet his gaze. “I… forget myself. I burst the pipes in the laundromat,” you admit. “I caused a storm the night we fought. When I ended things between us, it rained for three days. I can feel the water in every pipe in your apartment, every faucet and I was so scared of hurting you.”
Drawing you closer, Jungkook gathers you tightly. “Hey,” he murmurs. “It’s okay – you didn’t hurt me. I’m here. Tougher than you give me credit for,” he adds with a chuckle.
Leaning into him, you allow your eyes to shut. His heartbeat mirrors yours, a fact you find soothing. Reality sinks in a second later, realizing the truth of this week.
Jungkook doesn’t just understand what youare – he is one, himself.
Eyes flying open, you pull back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were an Elemental?” you demand.
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you tell me? I tried to explain a few times,” he adds, his brow furrowing. “I brought up Elementals, but you would always change the subject. I was scared to tell you. I thought… maybe you’d leave. I didn’t want you to.”
A small fissure mends in your heart. “My entire life, I was told magic was something to fear. Something to hide. I was taught to hide and only recently, have I started thinking otherwise. I… want you to know me, Jungkook.”
“I want to know you, too.”
“I want to learn how to use my magic,” you add, determined. “Seokjin is going to help.”
The divot between his brows deepens. “I want to help.”
It’s such a Jungkook response, you can’t help but grin. “You can,” you agree, squeezing his waist. “I’ll need all the help I can get.”
His expression softens. While you watch though, his thoughts seem to deepen, gaze flicking over the panes of your face.
“What does this mean?” Jungkook asks at last.
His grip on you doesn’t loosen, and you hear his unspoken question. Heart sinking, you realize you may have overstepped. Jungkook is touching you. He came here to help. Both of you know what the other is and you’ve apologized – but you haven’t asked for him back, and he hasn’t accepted.
Before, you might have allowed these negative thoughts to drown out the rest. To wonder if maybe Jungkook is only helping from guilt. Now, you shove those thoughts aside and force yourself to be strong. To ask for what you want, even if the answer is no.
“I was wrong, Jungkook,” you say quietly. “I ended this because I didn’t want you to get hurt, but you did anyway. I hurt myself in the process. I… I thought you couldn’t possibly love this part of me, so I ran away. That wasn’t fair,” you add, gaining momentum. “You deserve to know who I am and decide what you want for yourself. Jungkook, I love you. I want you. I am so sorry I hurt you, and I just want to know if you could ever –”
“Yes.”
You falter, blinking upward. “There was more to the speech.”
His lips twitch. “It was a very good speech. You can give the rest later. Right now, I want you to know my answer is yes. Yes, I love you. Yes, I want you. Yes, I forgive you.”
“But Jungkook” – it’s difficult to concentrate with his arms wrapped around you, nose lightly brushing the shell of your ear – “I broke up with you. Don’t you want me to –”
With a weary sigh, he pulls back. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, amused.
“I don’t know.” You frantically search. “Shouldn’t I promise not to run away again? To be more honest with you, more communicative?”
Jungkook waits, as though expecting more and when nothing comes of it, he shrugs. “I thought all that was a given. Don’t uh, run away, okay? Are we good?”
“Jungkook,” you laugh, though this becomes a groan when his lips brush your neck. Gripping the back of his hair, you pull his head upward.
Jungkook’s eyes gleam, his skin flushed. “You should work on your punishment, if that’s what you were trying to do,” he murmurs.
Ignoring the shiver these words bring, you shake your head. “Jungkook… um, the last time we were close, I…”
He tilts his head. “Yes?”
His voice is nothing but patience, and you draw a breath. “I’m scared,” you admit. “I know I’ve said it a lot, but I can’t seem to control my magic around you. Especially when we touch. That’s when things get…” Aimless, you shrug. “You know.”
Lips pressed tightly together, Jungkook lifts a brow. “What about this?” he teases, cupping your waist with one palm. “Is that alright?”
Your eyes roll. “Yes, Jungkook.”
“And this?”
Thumb slipping beneath your shirt, he traces the damp skin above your panties. Your entire lower body clenches, your limbs going molten.
“That’s… harder,” you admit.
He grins. “I know.”
“Oh, shut up,” you groan, half-heartedly attempting to pull away.
Jungkook laughs, catching you easily and laying your head on his shoulder. You stay there for a while, his hand cupping the back of your neck as his thumb strokes up and down. Eventually, the clouds part enough for the sun to peek through.
Throat clearing, Jungkook pulls back to see you. “To be clear – that doesn’t matter to me. We can go slow. We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. I’ll help in any way that I can, Y/N. I just want you.”
“I do want to try, though,” you insist. “I do. It’s just…” You hesitate. “Your apartment is so breakable.”
Jungkook stares at you for a moment. “I shouldn’t find that as hot as I do.”
“Jungkook!”
He laughs, taking your hand in his. “Sorry, sorry.” Turning on his heel, he heads from the pier. “I do have any idea, though. One that could help.”
Hand in his, you follow him inland. Jungkook leads you down a steep path towards the boathouse, ducking the gate towards the parking lot. It’s late enough that his car is alone, headlights blinking as he unlocks the doors.
You trail behind, happy to do so because honestly, the sight of Jungkook in a soaked t-shirt is akin to a Regency hero. You savor the sight, grinning like crazy. Always, you used to question the good things that happened because it seemed they could fade any second. Now, you find yourself determined to live and enjoy.
The ease with which Jungkook forgives makes his trust precious. Someone like Jungkook deserves someone honest, the type of person you aspire to be. Climbing into the passenger seat, you continue to admire Jungkook as he walks to the opposite side.
He slides into the driver’s seat, adjusting the seat and buckling his belt. Fixing the rearview mirror, he glances at you.
“What?” he asks, doing a double take.
“Nothing.” Smiling to yourself, you shake your head. “Where are we going?”
Mischief enters his gaze. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Cool. We’re going somewhere to solve our problem.”
Shaking your head, you settle back as he pulls from the parking lot. Glancing around the car, a sudden thought occurs to you, and your smile widens.
Noticing this, Jungkook hums. “What are you smiling about, now?”
“I thought you said you were in the area?”
“Yep.”
“Hm.” Smiling broadly, you twist to face him. “Seems odd you would bring your car if you were just ‘in the area,’” you say, using air quotes around the last words.
Jungkook flushes beet-read. Your ex-slash-current boyfriend is many things, but a good liar isn’t one of them.
“I – fine,” he admits on a groan. “I was hoping to see you and didn’t want you to leave before I got to the art shop. My car was fastest.”
Your grin widens. “Cute.”
“We’ll see who’s calling who cute later,” Jungkook mutters.
His words send a thrill down your spine. “Speaking of later…”
Reaching a stoplight, his head turns. “Yes?”
You wait a long beat. “Where are we going?”
Surprised, Jungkook laughs and faces forward when the light turns. “Does the art of the surprise mean nothing to you?” he teases.
“No! Surprises are mean. They’re for the surpriser more than the surprised.”
“Exactly.” Nodding, he merges onto the main highway. “Consider this your punishment for breaking up with me.”
“Hey! You said we were even.”
Jungkook smirks. “That’s not what I said. I said I forgive you. I never said we were even.”
“Oh? And just what might ‘getting even’ entail?”
His grip on the wheel tightens, voice pitching lower. “I have a few ideas.”
Lips parted, an entire city block passes before you assemble your thoughts in a coherent manner. “Well,” you exhale. “I hope these ideas involve us leaving the city. Preferably getting away from the ocean, as well.”
“Oh, they do. My family owns a cabin an hour north. We stayed there a lot when I was younger, especially once my magic started. There aren’t many people around – which is good, in case I slip and cause a seismic event.”
You stare at him over the console. “A… seismic event?”
Jungkook drops a wink. “What? You thought only water Elementals have cool powers?”
“Well, no, but–”
“I’ll show you,” he laughs. After a few seconds, Jungkook clears his throat. “So… what does your magic look like?”
“Sorry?”
“You know.” He glances your way and, upon seeing your confusion, backtracks. “Sorry. I forgot that not everyone… well. What I meant was, when you use your magic, what does it feel like? How does it… manifest?”
“Hm.” You consider. “It’s like… a small kernel of heat in my chest. Whenever I feel strongly, the kernel brightens – with joy, anger, sadness. The brighter it gets, the more aware I am of the water around me. You know, in the pipes, in the ground. Even you,” you add, a bit stilted. “In your blood.”
“Whoa.” Jungkook’s eyes widen. “That’s cool.”
“Cool?”
“Hot,” he amends, and now, you’re the one burning. “That’s…” He stops, then chuckles. “Damn, Y/N.”
Pushing aside that tantalizing thought, you sit back. You’ve never had the urge to show someone your magic but now, find yourself wanting to try. And learn more. Ultimately, this urge wins out.
“What does it feel like for you?” you ask, curious.
Jungkook frowns. “Magic is… a hum in the back of my mind, I guess. A hum, or a vibration. My emotions also affect it,” he adds, glancing your way. “Eventually, the hum spreads and I get what you mean about heightened awareness. For me, it feels like gravity shifts. I become more grounded. When I want the earth to do something, it just… listens.”
“Oh,” you say.
He glances at you, unsure. “What?”
“Nothing. That’s… unbelievably hot.”
A pleased smile spreads over his face. Sitting back, Jungkook’s hands tighten on the wheel and suddenly, the cabin seems a long way away.
“How long is the drive?” you pose.
“About forty-five minutes.”
“Huh.” You fidget a little.
“Why?”
Feeling his gaze on the side of your face, you shrug. “I have ideas for tonight, too.”
There’s a moment of silence before the car accelerates. Surprised, you laugh and grip the door handle. “Jungkook!” you scold, glancing sideways.
He blinks, the picture of innocence. “What? It seemed like you wanted me to go faster.”
“Sure, but preferably all in one piece.”
“You will. Trust me.”
And that’s the thing – you do. Trust him, that is.
Smiling slightly, you relax in your seat and lower the window. Skyscrapers have long since passed, turning to buildings, which became towns and fields. Eventually, the motion of the car lulls you to sleep. It’s been a long week of restless nights.
You wake when the car hits a bump, and you jerk suddenly upright. The sun casts long shadows over the dirt road you drive on.
“Sorry.” Jungkook winces. “This part can be rough. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Yawning, you stretch both arms overhead. “No, you’re fine. Are we close?”
Nodding, he keeps one hand on the wheel. Jungkook’s elbow is propped on his open window, a breeze ruffling hair from his face. Music plays, softly in the background.
“Five minutes.”
You nod and look around. Anticipation sketches over your skin, and you suppress a shiver. Knee bouncing along to the song on the radio, you reach a heightened state of awareness about tonight. Jungkook has never felt quite so tangible, or maybe you’ve never been so perceptive.
Turning down the next road, the car’s headlights bounce over trees and a mailbox before landing on a small, white house. Jungkook parks in the driveway as the sun slips towards the horizon.
Not opening the door, Jungkook drums his fingers against the wheel. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he turns to face you.
“Now that we’re here, it feels kind of presumptuous,” he admits in a rush.
Having imagined the worst, you can’t stop your smile. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you push open the door. “Let’s go,” you declare, feet hitting the ground. “I’ve been waiting for months, Jungkook!”
His chuckle follows, the car turning off as you shut the door. Footsteps follow you up the front path, Jungkook catching you around the waist near the rhododendrons.
“And whose fault is that?” he growls, nipping the curve of your ear.
“Excuse me,” you say, breathless, “that I didn’t want to drown your bedroom.”
“Baby.” His ensuing laughter is soft. “The only way I want you in my bedroom is soaking wet.”
With that, he reaches beyond you and unlocks the front door. Ignoring your speechlessness, Jungkook steps around you and enters the house.
“You coming?” he calls, flipping on lights.
You stare after for a moment before you come to your senses. Muttering darkly, you slip off your shoes and shut the front door behind you. The hallway ends in a kitchen, cheerfully lit while Jungkook rummages through a cabinet.
“Tell me,” he says, standing to shut the door. “Are you hungry?”
“Uh…” Your face heats. “Well, I kind of thought…”
“Can’t have sex on an empty stomach.” Dropping a wink, Jungkook turns around to open another cupboard.
With a half-hearted eye roll, you sit on a stool and glance around. The kitchen cabinets are dark green with bronze handles. You would ask Jungkook if he helped, but his interior design skills leave something to be desired. Just because a person is creative one way doesn’t mean it automatically translates.
Vividly, you recall entering his apartment and being thoroughly confused by the multiple mattresses. Patiently, Jungkook explained they were for his dog, Bam – as though that made any difference.
Remembering this, you sit upright. “Hang on – where’s Bam?”
“Left him with Jimin,” Jungkook says, setting down a cutting board. “I sent him a voice note while you were sleeping.”
“Oh,” you say, sinking back on the stool. “That’s good.”
Nodding, Jungkook resumes preparing the meal. Propping your chin on one hand, you take in the small but well-loved home around you. Traces of Jungkook are everywhere in a road map of his life. Photos of Jungkook as a child are tacked to the refrigerator, his eyes a similar size but in a much smaller head. There’s one of him with his dad on the playground, another at graduation with his mom.
Your gaze lingers on one that looks like the yard of this house. A giant boulder fills the frame, while Jungkook sits, cross-legged, at the top. He can’t be older than ten, scowling furiously while his mom yells something upward. In the foreground, his dad takes the picture in selfie mode, giving a giant thumbs-up with a maniacal grin.
“That’s the first time I used my powers,” Jungkook says, catching you looking.
Half-guilty, you start but he doesn’t seem to mind.
Instead, he smiles. “I was something of a late bloomer. My parents were concerned, although they wouldn’t say it. One day, I was out playing, and my mom called me in for dinner. I didn’t want to leave. Next thing I knew, I’d made a small cliff in the yard. My mom was furious,” he recalls with a laugh. “My dad was ecstatic. Keep going on and on about how I’d been ‘saving up.’ Anyways, they enrolled me in camp the next summer.”
“Camp?”
“To help with my magic,” says Jungkook, nodding at another photo. This one has Jungkook with his arms around three kids near his age. “Both my parents are Elementals – my mom, fire and my dad, earth. One of their friends runs a summer camp for Elementals. I went as soon as I could.”
“Oh,” you breathe, not having realized such things existed. Maybe you would’ve gone if your dad had lived longer. Or maybe you wouldn’t have – he was an only child without much family, which explained why you felt isolated after his death.
Sensing the change in emotion, Jungkook abandons his cooking. “My dad was adopted,” he admits, coming around the counter. “He didn’t even know he was an Elemental until he turned twelve. When his adoptive parents realized, they told him to hide it and my dad did for a long time. It wasn’t until meeting my mom that he started relearning.”
You aren’t sure how to respond, your throat suddenly tight.
Luckily, Jungkook doesn’t expect an answer. “Not that your situations are the same,” he hastens. “I don’t want to make comparisons, but I wanted to say it because… well, I wanted to let you know you’re not alone. You can learn now. I’ll help however I can.”
Warmth expands in your chest, replacing the sadness. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that,” you whisper.
Jungkook’s frown deepens. “I don’t think it’s about deserving help – although of course, you do. Things don’t just happen because someone deserves them. You didn’t deserve for your dad to die when he did. We both don’t deserve to live in a world that forces us to hide. None of that’s deserved, so why should you question when good things are good?”
“That’s exactly it, though,” you admit. “So many bad things have happened that were connected to my magic. Like earlier today – I finally confronted my mom, and I nearly drowned the city.”
He shakes his head, stubborn. “That’ll take time. Time and practice, but you will get there. I don’t have any doubts about that, Y/N. You don’t have to be scared of magic – it’s not going anywhere, and neither am I.”
You stare at each other and, oddly, you feel some of his strength. It would be impossible for so many people to have faith in you for no reason. If anything, it’s more foolish to continually assume you’ll fail.
After another long moment, Jungkook tears his gaze away. “Food,” he declares with a firm shake of his head. “Food first, then… other stuff.”
Laughing softly, you lean back. Jungkook chats while he cooks, explaining how his dad thoroughly proofed the house against several types of Elemental. His mom is a fire Elemental and his dad is earth, but they have several members of the extended family who are water.
“Essentially” – Jungkook chops vegetables – “this place could survive a 7-magnitude earthquake, followed by a fire and a flash flood. There are sprinklers in every room with drains in all corners. Furniture is water resistant and non-synthetic. Basically, go wild. No one will care.”
Your brows arch. “You might care if I burst another pipe in the ceiling. In my experience, that tends to ruin the mood.”
Lowly, he laughs and turns on the burner. “Fair enough,” Jungkook says. “If you don’t feel comfortable inside, we can start outside. I don’t mind a little rain if you don’t.”
Unthinkingly, your gaze lowers to where his t-shirt continues to stick to his skin. Obscene how good Jungkook looks in damp clothing.
As though sensing your thoughts, he smirks and flips the food in the pan.
“Okay,” you blurt. “Let’s try that.”
Eventually, you need to take a first step and now seems as good a time as any. Somewhere, somehow, you need to begin. Deep down, you know your fear is holding you back. You’re petrified of losing control, and every time you use your magic, the fear wins, creating new fear in an endless cycle.
By the time Jungkook slides a bowl of noodles towards you, your stomach is growling. Jungkook was right about needing to eat. The last traces of the day disappear while you slurp your noodles, catching each other up on your lost week. As it turns out, Jungkook was equally moody, causing minor trembles whenever he left his apartment.
You describe to him your week, voice trembling when you reach the phone call with your mom. Reaching across the counter, Jungkook grasps your hand tightly.
“It’s okay,” he says. “We don’t have to talk about that right now, if you don’t want.”
Thankful, you nod, and he retreats with your bowls. Bringing these to the sink, he loads the dishwasher and shuts the door with his hip.
“I do want to talk eventually,” you say, hesitant. “Just… not now. It’s too raw.”
“I get it.” He walks around the counter, stopping before you. “It’s hard to think about our parents as real people who also fuck up. Sometimes they do so in ways we can’t forgive.”
Nodding, you down at your hands. “Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “Your parents get it, though. They love you.”
“Sure.” Jungkook speaks carefully. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t hurt each other. Relationships are complicated. It’d be conceited for me to tell you what to do with your mom. Whatever you decide though, I’m here.”
His words spark a fire deep inside you, the opposite of fear and you reach up to pull his mouth down to yours. Surprised, Jungkook’s lips brush once, twice before the kiss becomes hungrier. When his head finally lifts, his gaze remains fixed on your mouth.
“Right,” he rasps.
“Outside?”
Jungkook nods so quickly, you nearly laugh. “Uh-huh, yeah – outside. Hang on,” he says, turning around to head for a closet.
About a minute later, Jungkook emerges with several blankets and a backpack he refuses to open. Handing over a blanket, he leads you by the hand towards the back door.
“Let’s go,” he commands.
Hiding a smile, you follow him into the night. A tiny garden is growing beyond the house, and you marvel at its permanency. You and your mom moved so often that you eventually stopped bothering to put down roots. Jungkook has been the first thing in a long time you’ve wanted to keep.
Lifting the latch on the gate, Jungkook leads you down a small path through the woods. By now, your eyes are accustomed to the semi-darkness. If one can even call it darkness, with the nearly full moon overhead. Your breath catches when the path ends in a meadow bordered on all sides by pine trees.
Retrieving your blanket, Jungkook spreads them both on the ground. Taking a seat, he motions for you to join and waits until you do. Leaning into his side, you stare at the sky.
“See that?” Jungkook points at the woods. “Dad pulled up that boulder to block deer from getting into the garden. Didn’t work. They just go around.”
Your lips twitch in a smile. “Bet your mom was mad.”
“Oh, no. She finds the ongoing battle hilarious. Secretly roots for the deer, I think.”
Even as you laugh, you feel a sharp pang of envy. Your mom has always been adamant your power isn’t something to be shared, something to be laughed at. It must have been wonderful to grow up in a household that used magic without fear.
The moment you think this, you realize you might have that now. Seokjin has always been supportive of your magic. Micah and Taryn suggested you teach a class for Elementals. Jungkook knows what you are, and he hasn’t run yet.
When you face him, Jungkook is already looking. His eyes roam your face, as though committing you to memory.
“Where did you go just now?” he murmurs, his hand inching closer on the blanket. “What were you thinking?”
Slyly, you tilt your head. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering how many ‘shakes the bed’ jokes you’ll let me get away with.”
Jungkook’s lips twitch. “Only one.”
“What about a good ‘you rock my world’ pun?”
“Ugh, zero,” he groans.
“What about –”
Growling, Jungkook falls backwards onto the blankets. “That’s it,” he demands, taking you with him. “That’s the last straw!”
“Stop it!” you gasp, giggling helplessly as he tickles your sides.
Smile broadening, Jungkook flops onto the blanket and goes still. Half-sprawled over his chest, you loop one arm over his waist and stare at the sky.
“You get two jokes,” Jungkook says. “And if they’re not good jokes, I’m allowed to dole out punishment as I see fit.”
“Is that a threat?”
“A promise,” he says, his smile wicked.
At the look in his eyes, the air between you thickens. Jungkook’s finger hooks under the hem of your blouse, tracing the skin just above your skirt.
Heat flows through your limbs. “Tell me,” you whisper, staring down. “How many other girls have you brought here?”
His low chuckle shakes you. “None.”
“None?” you blurt out. “Teenage Jungkook didn’t pull that rock trick with any youthful paramours?”
“No.” Gently, he lowers you onto your side. “Believe it or not, I was a nerdy teenager. Super into rocks. Loved superheroes. The only ground-shaking happening back then” – sadly, he shakes his head – “was when I lost at Overwatch.”
Your lips twitch in response. “Seriously, though.” Lightly, you drag a finger across his collarbone. “What, um, happens when you…”
Your gaze flicks upward, and you find him intent, focused on you.
“When I do what?” Jungkook murmurs.
“When you… come.”
His gaze has turned molten. “Usually, I can control myself.” Jungkook pauses, then grips you by the waist to pull you on top. A startled noise leaves you, and you steady yourself on his chest. “With you, though… let’s just say, I’m glad we started outside.”
Your mouth goes dry as your body settles to his. Minutely, you shift your hips over his and feel Jungkook’s hands tighten.
“Jungkook,” you whisper.
Reaching upward, he gently cups your jaw and brings your face down to his. The brush of his lips is soft at first, a call and response. When you exhale, his grip on you tightens, his tongue slipping past. Pulling you closer, Jungkook’s hand slides to the back of your neck.
His other hand fists in your blouse, abruptly sitting up to take you with him.
“Oh,” you gasp, arms sliding around him.
“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, your noses barely touching.
His body is warm and solid beneath you, thighs spilled over his lap to land on either side. Curling one hand into your shirt, Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with yours.
“Can I take this off?” he asks, and you nod.
Slipping a hand higher, Jungkook lifts your shirt until it comes away. Tossed on the blanket, his hand skims your side before resuming the kiss. His mouth is hungry, savoring the feel of your bare skin with his palm. His touch moves higher, drifting beneath your breast as you shiver.
Rocking forward, you realize how hard he is. Cupping your breast with one hand, Jungkook teases your nipple, and you let out a moan. Swallowing the sound, he crushes your mouth to his. Your hands move to Jungkook’s hair, hips moving more urgently.
“Stop that,” he growls, pulling back. “You’ll ruin me before I have a chance to begin.”
“Seems fair, then,” you say with a smile.
Jungkook smirks, leaning back to observe your tits spilling over the bra. Running his finger along the line, he slips a finger past and tugs your bra down. Sharply, you inhale at the night air on your breast. Jungkook’s mouth is there a second later, nipping, then licking the sensitive bud.
Shifting on top, you arch to get him closer. Jungkook tugs down the other cup, pinching your breast with his fingers. Whimpering, you grasp his hair tightly and roll your hips.
Jungkook grunts in approval, his legs coming up to trap you against him. Switching to your other breast, he teases until you’re frantic, grinding against his fully clothed lap.
Now, you expect him to undress but Jungkook keeps his attention on you. Sliding his hand up your thigh, he slips under your skirt to cup your ass with one hand. Controlling your movement, he kneads your ass with his palm as you rock against him.
“Fuck – Jungkook,” you groan, your head tipped back.
Heated, he trails kisses down the line of your throat. “You’re thinking too much. Want to see you lose control. Let me take care of it.”
Too stunned to be coherent, you tug on his t-shirt. “This. Off,” you demand.
Pulling back, Jungkook grasps the material with one hand to remove. When his chest is revealed, you make a noise in response. Greedy, you drag your palms down his firm chest. His tattoos entwine, a tapestry of ink across his tanned muscle.
Bending, you press a kiss to a lily and feel Jungkook shudder. Continuing your path, you flick your tongue against his brown nipple and are rewarded with a groan.
“Enough,” Jungkook demands, slapping you on the ass. “Up.”
Surprised, you jerk upright. Heat suffuses your skin, radiating from the same spot his palm covers. Seeming to understand, Jungkook massages the same spot over the fabric of your panties.
“What?” you exhale, thoroughly distracted.
Jungkook smirks, both brows lifted. “Stand up. It’s important, I swear.”
Gathering your senses, you manage to stand. Jungkook remains seated before you while he blatantly ogles. Running his tongue over his lower lip, the bulge in his jeans looks painful, although he doesn’t seem to notice.
“That skirt has to go.” His gaze lifts. “Please.”
Without breaking eye contact, you shimmy the skirt down your legs. Stepping aside, you push this away and step back. Lifting himself to his knees, Jungkook grips the skin of your ankles. His hands slide upward with agonizing slowness, hovering when he reaches the top of your thighs.
“Jungkook,” you murmur. “What are you doing?”
He looks up, his gaze dark. Only then does he drag both thumbs back, over your aching center. Although your panties remain, your knees nearly buckle.
“Ah.” Jungkook pauses, then repeats the motion. “Right there?”
“Fu-ck,” you groan.
He does this again, casually touching over your cotton panties. Breasts aching to be touched, you lift your palms to cup their weight with both hands. Jungkook watches, his gaze intent while he watches you tug at your nipples.
Abruptly, Jungkook pulls your panties aside to lean in and lick. Now, your knees do buckle, feeling his tongue slip through your folds. Chuckling darkly, Jungkook sits back and places your panties where they were.
Laying down on the blanket, he motions to his chest. “Kneel,” he says. “You can keep touching your tits if you want, but I need to make you come.”
The kernel of heat in your chest is now a storm, clouds gathering overhead as you kneel on the blanket. The moment your knees hit the ground, his hands find your waist, moving you into position. Turning his head, Jungkook brushes a soft kiss to your thigh.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, tracing his index finger down your soaked center. “Already so wet, and I’ve barely touched you. I thought about this a lot,” he admits, gaze lifting to yours. “Thought about how tight and wet you’d feel around a few of my fingers. Bouncing up and down on my hand to make yourself come.”
“Oh,” you breathe, entranced.
Lips tilted, Jungkook pulls aside your damp panties. His thumb swipes over your clit – once, twice, until he feels you tremble. Grasping your ass, he pulls you lower and makes direct eye contact when he licks.
“Oh, god,” you choke out.
Other men have eaten you out, but it’s usually a pleasant, if unremarkable event. Being with Jungkook is different. No one has ever done this as though you’re the main course, as though they get off on your pleasure as much as their own.
Hand tight on your waist, Jungkook spreads your ass while sucking on your clit. Moaning, you bend to place both hands on the ground. Jungkook grunts his approval, sucking again before pulling back for light licks. You can feel your arousal sliding down your thighs, but he doesn’t seem to notice or mind.
“Yeah.” Jungkook pauses, tracing your entrance with his finger. “That’s so hot, Y/N. You’re so fucking hot.”
Face burning, you can feel the water gathering in clouds overhead. The earnestness in his voice ignites your pleasure to a full-on inferno.
“More,” you demand, wriggling your hips. “Please, Jungkook.”
Eyes gleaming, he reaches up to spread your thighs further. Resuming eating you out, he moves you against him with loud approval. Your panties continue getting in the way until, with a frustrated noise, you hear fabric shred.
Eyes wide, you glance down as Jungkook throws them aside. “I’ll get you new ones,” he says, his voice hoarse, before diving back in.
“Oh – god!” you gasp, gripping his hair when he sucks even harder.
The clouds overhead darken, and rain starts to fall. Jungkook pauses to glance upward, then grins. “That’s it, baby,” he coaxes. “Want you to soak me. Give me everything, okay? Don’t hold back.”
Pulling you down again, his tongue swirls around your clit. Jungkook’s hands remain on your ass, cupping you reverently while you grip his hair. Unapologetic, you start riding his face while he works you open.
Tracing your entrance with his finger, Jungkook gets himself wet before he slips inside. Your entire body clenches, shaking with the impending force of your orgasm. Everything pulses – the rain, your blood, his heart and his tongue.
When he adds a second finger, you cry out, head tipped back. Clenching hard on his hand, shudder after shudder rolls through you as the sky breaks. Sheets of rain drench your skin while Jungkook continues to lick, bringing you down from your orgasm.
Catching your breath, the rain slows to a drizzle. Dazed, you slump forward as Jungkook slides his two fingers out. Grasping you around the waist, he settles you beside him and smiles. Jungkook’s torso is damp with rain and arousal, and you think no one has ever looked so beautiful.
“Jungkook,” you moan. “Why’d you stop?”
Huffing a laugh, he pulls you close to his side. “Did you want to keep going?” he teases.
“Obviously.”
“Hm.” Hand slipping down your spine, he firmly cups your ass. “Maybe you’re tired. Are you sure once wasn’t enough?”
Lifting a brow, drape your thigh over his so he can feel how wet you are. Jungkook’s eyes narrow, fingers digging harder into the curve of your waist. From where you are, you can see the painful bulge in his pants.
“I’m not tired,” you promise. “Are you?”
Rather than answer, Jungkook pulls you down for a kiss. One of his hands finds your knee, sliding higher to skim your drenched pussy from behind. You swallow a moan when his jeans rub your clit. Fingers tracing your entrance, Jungkook spreads your pussy with delicious slowness.
Breathless, you move against him in a helpless bid for friction. Jungkook keeps you still, controlling the motion despite your desperation.
“I want your pants off,” you demand against his lips.
Jungkook chuckles and lays back on the blanket. “Alright.”
Grasping his belt, he unbuckles and pulls the strap through his jeans. Unbuttoning these, he shoves denim past his thighs to cast it aside. When he’s in just boxer-briefs, Jungkook pulls you closer to lay on his chest.
“God,” he breathes, marveling at your skin. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
Rain that you’ve called slicks both you and him. Lowering your head, you breathe Jungkook in and rock your hips forward. Jungkook’s fingers trace your center, easing your thighs wider to slip a finger inside.
“Oh,” you moan, slightly breathless.
Beneath you, his cock feels rock-hard. Pushing against him, you feel Jungkook’s finger moving and know that this must be torture. Continuing to tease, you rub your nipples over his chest.
“Jungkook,” you whimper. “I want you.”
Lips twitching, he adds a second finger. “You can barely take two of my fingers. Think you’re ready for my cock?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not,” he drawls, slapping your ass again. “But yeah, take my cock out. Want to feel you.”
Reaching lower, you push his boxers down the best you can. Jungkook’s cock is freed, bobbing between you. You forgot how big he is. Although you’ve seen him twice, both times ended poorly, and you tried not to think about his prettiness afterwards.
And how thick his length is. Swallowing, you eye his girth and wonder if Jungkook is right – you’re not ready. Maybe you never will be.
Gently, Jungkook cups your face to return your gaze to his. “Eyes on me,” he murmurs, thumb beneath your chin. “I’ll get you there. Don’t worry.”
Some of your tension disappears. Nodding, you relax when he lowers his hand to rub your clit in circles. Exhaling, your legs spread further when Jungkook adds a third finger. The stretch feels good, being spread from behind and you lower your head to stare down your body.
Jungkook’s abs end in a v, his cock so hard it hovers above his skin, a thick bead of cum gathered at the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight.
“Jungkook,” you breathe. “Want to suck your cock.”
He pauses what he’s doing to look up, heavy-lidded.
“What, baby?” he murmurs.
“I want your cock in my mouth,” you insist, sitting up. “Please.”
His eyes gleam and Jungkook slowly sits up, easing you on top. Pulling his fingers free, he grasps your waist.
“Since you asked nicely.” His smile is crooked. “Go on.”
Inhaling sharply, you scoot backwards. Kneeling over him, you swiftly bend to grasp the base of his length. His cock stands, erect and vascular between muscled thighs.
Your hand barely fits around him, and you clench at the realization he’ll soon be inside. Spreading your thighs, you lower yourself to take him in your mouth. Jungkook groans when you suck, shifting his weight underneath.
His chest rises and falls, watching from lowered lashes as you take him in deeper. Choking a little, you use your spit to make his shaft wet. When his fingertips curl into the blanket, you feel a low tremble in the earth. Emboldened, you relax your mouth and deep throat him.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Jungkook groans. “Yes.”
Using your right hand to jerk him off, you suck the tip. Bending further, you drag your tongue lower, teasing and tormenting until Jungkook is sweating.
“Fu-ck,” he mutters, one hand on your neck. “Yeah, Y/N. Yes. Like that. Good girl.”
His hips rise when you deep-throat him, another tremor shaking the world underneath. Suddenly, he grasps your waist and pulls you upward.
“Want to come inside you,” Jungkook demands. “Not like this.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” Reaching below, he swipes two fingers through your pussy and brings these to his mouth. Not breaking eye contact, he slowly sucks. “Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, releasing them with a pop. “You’re so wet. You liked sucking my cock, huh?”
Nodding, your arms find his neck when he does it again. Jungkook fingers you slowly before, pulling out, reaches for the backpack. Unzipping the side, he retrieves a condom and lube. Breaking open a packet, he rolls the condom over himself and slicks it up.
“This good?” he murmurs, pulling you onto his lap.
Breathless, you nod, both hands on his shoulders. Slowly, your hips lower until he brushes your entrance. Stifling a gasp, you watch his eyes narrow.
“Don’t be quiet.” Using his hands, Jungkook guides you lower. “I want to hear you, Y/N.”
His cock enters barely an inch, only to stop, your head spinning. Jungkook’s grip tightens, a muscle fluttering in his jaw with visible restraint.
“Oh,” you breathe and look down. “You’re so big.”
“You can take it.” Jungkook speaks as though it’s a given.
Pleasure surges and you lower yourself another inch. It already feels like too much, too full of an already great thing. Cupping the back of your neck, Jungkook holds you against him and moves you slightly lower.
You wait for your body to catch up, muscles relaxing to sink down a bit more. This happens again and again, your body accommodating his thick girth. The lube is essential, easing you open while he takes his time. Jungkook helps you through it, teasing you with his fingers, kissing you deeply until your hips settle with his.
“Oh,” you whisper against his lips.
The position is more intimate than you thought it’d be. Seated like this, you sit face to face and feel his length inside. It’s hard to tell where you end, and he begins. Jungkook shifts, moving deeper and your entire world expands.
“Oh,” you repeat, lifting your hips. Slowly, you drop back down.
Jungkook’s groan is guttural, coming from a place deep inside. Gripping your ass, he helps you ride him – slowly, he moves you up and down on his cock. Each time you feel fuller, his length hitting a place that makes you incandescent. Rain drizzles, then stops, then starts to fall harder.
Neither of you notice, the pace increasing until you find yourself slamming down, fingernails digging into the curve of his shoulders. Grunting, his hand remains on your ass while you move on his cock.
“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook groans, watching your chest. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N.”
“You feel so fucking good,” you whimper, reaching backwards. Gripping his knees, you use these for leverage to fuck up and down.
Jungkook stares at you, dazed, and then surges forward. Bending, he sucks your nipple as you ride him, a loud moan escaping. Chest arched, you beg for more and Jungkook obeys, moving to your other breast. His other hand stays on your ass, guiding the motion of your hips with his.
You think you could do this forever and maybe you could if this weren’t your first time together. Three months of wanting and not having him have turned you desperate. You want more. Deeper. Harder. You want to feel Jungkook undone, and you want that now.
“Jungkook,” you breathe. “I need… more.”
“More?” Lifting his head, Jungkook searches. “How? Tell me what you want.”
Continuing to move your hips, you watch his face slacken. “I you to fuck me, Jungkook,” you pant, the words spilling out. “Want you to make me come without… without worrying.”
His brow lifts. “Is that all? Want me to fuck you from behind like the dirty girl you are?”
“Yes, please,” you gasp.
Lifting yourself from his cock, you ignore the sudden emptiness and turn around. Placing both hands on the blanket, you arch your back and look backwards.
Jungkook stares at you, still and you know what he must see. Legs spread, back arched and pussy on full display. You can feel how wet you are, arousal dripping from your cunt, already stretched by his cock.
“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, scrambling upright. Getting on his knees, he positions himself behind you. Swiping through your pussy several times, he grabs the lube and dribbles more down your folds.
Dropping this, Jungkook bends and rubs your swollen clit. Positioning his cock at your entrance, Jungkook pushes inside with a single thrust. You go from absolutely nothing to being so full, you cry out his name.
Grasping the blanket, your back arches. Jungkook stays like that for a moment, letting you feel him. One hand grips your ass, sliding up your spine to push you lower. Breathless, you obey and rest both elbows on fabric.
“Just like that.” Jungkook slips two fingers to either side of his cock. Gathering lube, he slips this up and over your asshole. You whimper, turned on by the notion.
Slowly, he pulls his length out and pushes back in. Another noise escapes, fingers scrambling in blankets to push back against him.
“Please, Jungkook,” you groan. “Harder.”
“Harder?” Excruciatingly slowly, Jungkook does it again. “You need to earn it, baby. Let me know that you want this.”
Withdrawing, he pushes in leisurely from behind. He does it again and again until your toes start to curl, ass pushing backwards to take him deeper. Storm clouds roil while your frustration mounts, the need for him inside you a tangible feeling.
Eventually, you snap and turn your head around. “I swear,” you demand, gaze fixed on his. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll find someone who will.”
Jungkook’s eyes dance. “You can try,” he promises, and pulls out again.
This time, Jungkook doesn’t hold back. Rain breaks, soaking the meadow when he starts pounding inside you. Jungkook’s hips slam to yours, over and over while his cock fills you.
Gasping his name, you see stars as you come together. Again and again, until you cry with pleasure and something else – something untethered and new. Reaching between your legs, you push yourself further as the pleasure builds. Feeling you flutter around him, Jungkook growls and chases his own release.
“You first,” he pants, his grip tight. “I can feel how close you are. Such a good girl, soaking my cock like I asked.”
His voice in your ear, his cock deep inside you, pushes you over the edge and shatters you to pieces. You hear the trust in his words, behind every touch while giving you parts of himself. Jungkook thrusts into you harder, shuddering into the condom as the ground shakes beneath you. Miraculously, you aren’t thinking about anything but him – not the storm, not the earth and not even your magic.
Gradually, his hips slow and Jungkook slowly pulls out. Removing the condom, he cleans you both off and pulls you down to the blanket. Stretching your limbs, the rain slows to a drizzle as your eyes open.
Nothing exists in Jungkook’s gaze but happiness, echoing yours. Pressing closer to him, your limbs entwine as you push back his hair. Suddenly sleepy, you stretch alongside him – only to notice the giant crack in the earth.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes wide. “The ground!”
Craning his neck, Jungkook notices the spot. “Oops,” he says sheepishly, turning back. “Guess I got carried away.”
Shocked by his nonchalance, your gaze flicks to his. “Aren’t you… embarrassed?”
Burrowing into your neck, he pulls you closer. “Should I be? I’ll fix it – tomorrow,” Jungkook adds. “That took a lot out of me,” he chuckles, and you feel your cheeks heat.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “That was…”
“For me, too.”
Looking up, your brow furrows. “Do you think that’ll happen every time?”
“What, the giant rainstorm and the earthquake?” Seeing your face, his own softens. “I don’t know. It’s never been like that for me before.”
Something about the way Jungkook says this, almost shy, quiets a voice in your mind. The voice that insists on questioning every good thing. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead, Jungkook lies down alongside you. The two of you stay like that for a while, the clouds parting above to show a velvety sky.
Eventually, your silence turns to conversation. Everything you’ve hidden from each other trickles outward, in slow doses. Jungkook murmurs about his family, his childhood and the times he lost control. You tell him about art, about Taryn and Micah, about the easel being the one place you feel capable of using your magic.
Before long, Jungkook is hard and this time, you pull him on top. You come again – and again, your rain responding in droves. The last time, it's only a drizzle, and Jungkook barely shudders the earth. It helps, knowing what to expect and focusing solely on him.
At some point, you must doze off because you wake in Jungkook’s arms walking through the garden. He brings you upstairs, lending you toothpaste and a t-shirt from one of the bedrooms. Slipping under the covers, you smile at Jungkook when he joins you.
Before, sleeping over was impossible but now, things are different. Jungkook knows who you are. He knows everything about you and loves you anyways. Heart soaring, you trace the panes of his face in the dark. So different from the night you broke up.
Sleepy, he smiles. “Just try and break up with me,” Jungkook mumbles, turning his face from the pillow. “See what happens.”
You giggle, pressing a kiss to his chest. “That sounds like a challenge. Are you angling for make-up sex?”
“That part was fun,” he admits. “Everything else sucked.”
“It did.” Your smile fades. “Would it freak you out if I said… I don’t plan on us breaking up for a very long time? Possibly ever?”
Jungkook’s eyes open. Gently, he leans forward and captures your lips with his. This kiss is unrushed, unhurried and you hear the unsaid words. You have all the time in the world together.
“Never sounds good to me,” he murmurs, pulling back. Like that, fully grounded, you drift off into sleep.
Synopsis: Fear has never been a foreign concept to you. Your entire life has been shaped by the knowledge that you’re different, and fear of the stigma which might follow discovery. Although fire, earth, air and water Elementals have been public for decades, the fear-mongering around your kind hasn’t changed; something you have intimate knowledge of, having experienced it firsthand. Since then, you’ve done your best to hide your water powers. This is for your own safety, as your mom likes to say.
Safety flies out the window though, when you fall in love. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just any love, either, he’s the love. The person who makes you feel as though your darkest corners deserve to be seen. Unable to control your magic around him, you find yourself faced with a horrible fact: you need to break up.
A plan which proves difficult when Jungkook simply refuses to go. And maybe, just maybe, you find the constraints placed on yourself don’t make sense anymore.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: death of a parent (past), some emotional abuse
NSFW Warnings: oral (woman and man), multiple orgasms (woman), fingering, hand job, face-riding, sex outdoors (in a secluded, private area), very slight ass-play, breast play
Word Count: 17,287 (32,487 total)
Author's Note: Unfortunately, the new Tumblr text editor doesn't allow for more than 1,000 paragraphs per post. Part I is here, and Part II will be uploaded shortly. Please, please, please reblog both if possible! In my experience, engagement tends to be worse when split into two parts. (also, if you haven't already realized based on the premise, Y/N does break up with Jungkook in the first part of this fic lol so, if that's something you don't want to read; fair warning!)
[ Cross-posted to Wattpad here ]
Magic, to you, has never been a boon.
Despite its romanticization in movies and stories, the reality of magic is messy and unpredictable. As dangerous as it can be fickle, your mom likes to say. Usually followed by a glance in your direction, swift enough for you not to notice, although you always do.
Either that, or an unconscious tilt her chin towards the photograph on the mantle. You aren’t sure she even realizes she does it, acting on instinct alone. The photo is of your dad, holding you on his shoulders with an ear-to-ear grin. He was the other Elemental in your family.
Even with only one magical parent, the Elemental gene tends to be passed on to children. Your dad’s magic was water, skilled in manipulating and calling forth the element. He was lauded for it, which was in itself unusual. More often, Elementals are run out of town by other humans. Although time has gone by since societal integration, there are still many who view your kind with suspicion.
You can’t say that you blame them – not really. Because again, the reality of magic is it can be dangerous. Based on experience, bad things tend to happen when you lose control.
Head tilted, you squint through the fog at your boyfriend’s apartment. For centuries, fog has been heralded as an ill omen and maybe there’s some degree of truth to it. Maybe the first speaker lived near a temperamental water Elemental, unable to keep their emotions from manipulating the weather.
Thoughts souring at how close to reality this feels, you shake your head once and some of the fog clears.
A pep talk, you think. That’s what you need to convince yourself to enter. Unseasonably chilly this late in the summer, your fingers curl into the ends of your sweater. Going inside would be preferrable to standing out in the cold, and yet you can’t manage a single step.
Better to stand in the cold than enter and shatter.
Again, you remind yourself you’re doing the right thing and again, this doesn’t help. If anything, it makes you clutch your sweater tighter. For once, you wish doing the right thing meant what’s right for you. Exhaling deeply, your eyes shut as a train passes and shakes the ground.
You began dating Jungkook three months ago and within a week, you knew it was different. You have a tendency to hide pieces of yourself, knowing most people won’t like what they find. Jungkook never allowed that to happen. The first time you ghosted, he showed up at your favorite coffee shop the next morning and asked what had gone wrong. Taken aback, you responded honestly and to your surprise, Jungkook listened.
He stayed. Stayed when others had run, cementing himself on a short list of people you can trust. Three months into dating, things have moved at once fast and slow. Fast because typically, you exit relationships long before feelings like these ones develop. Slow, because you haven’t given Jungkook every part of yourself.
Physical intimacy comes to mind. On several occasions, this has proved… difficult.
Eyes opening, you stare at the door. Memories of last night rise to the surface. For a long time, you’ve known this relationship has an end date. Knowing this doesn’t prepare you for the difficult conversation ahead.
The last time you saw Jungkook was after midnight. Fat raindrops chased your footsteps while you ran from his place, descending the subway at a record pace. The look on his face remains stuck in your mind and even now, you find the thought hard to revisit.
Imagining hurting Jungkook again is unfathomable. Stifling a gasp, you spin on your heel and march away. Halfway to the gate, you get a grip on yourself. Coming to a stop, you remind yourself this isn’t about you. Jungkook will hate you – there’s nothing to do about that now. Now, this is about Jungkook and ensuring he’s safe.
Slowly, you turn around and make your way forward. In the name of procrastination, you stop at a trash can to clean out your purse. Old receipts, gum wrappers and a crumpled-up napkin shake into the bin. You pause at the napkin, staring at the embossed name of the restaurant you work at. Or – more accurately – worked at.
Slamming the trash lid, you turn. You began work at Pierre’s Bistro two months ago as a temporary measure. Ideally, you paint but lately, inspiration has run dry. Waiting tables pays the bills, leaving time at the end of the day to stare at a blank canvas.
Pierre’s is an upscale French restaurant a few blocks down with semi-decent food and waiting tables would be fine if the owner – Pierre – weren’t a massive asshole. Now that you don’t work there, you can be honest about that. Pierre was the most sexist, elitist, capitalistic piece of shit you’ve ever had the displeasure of working for. While on his payroll, you tried to make the best of it but now, you have nothing to lose. Pierre was a dick.
A point he proved yet again last night, much to your mortification. You prefer working the lunch shift to dinner, and weekdays to weekends. Saturday nights are worst of all, and last night Pierre didn’t arrive until well after six. You were forced to cover the entire front section, picking up for a co-worker who called in sick.
Rushing from the bar, you nearly crashed into your boss removing his coat. Grabbing you by the elbow, Pierre steadied you, his hand lingering.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” he joked.
You forced a smile. Experience has taught you the best thing to do in those types of situations is to smile and laugh.
“No fire. Lots of customers! Excuse me,” you said and tried to move past.
Pierre didn’t release you. If anything, his grip on you tightened until you turned your head.
“Yes?” you said, impatient.
Pierre didn’t respond, looking you slowly up and down. Eventually, he released you to take a step backwards. “Nothing,” he said carefully. “Be careful out there tonight.”
Trying not to gag on his words, you moved on. Unfortunately, it was hard to escape Pierre’s notice once caught. From that point on, each of your flaws were held under a microscope. First, it was that you didn’t fold the napkins correctly. Next, you took a wandering path from kitchen to table. Each time you entered the dining room, scornful words were covered by simpering smiles.
By the time your shift end approached, you could barely keep going. A large group had entered and, seeing the host occupied, you took it upon yourself to seat them at your last table. Fixing your apron, you hurried through the restaurant and into the kitchen.
Grabbing another table’s dishes, you thanked the cook and pushed open the door. Immediately, arms shoved you back in. Startled, you barely had time to recognize the host, Vanessa, before the doors swung shut.
“Vanessa?” you said, adjusting your grip. “What’s going on?”
Harried, she glanced over one shoulder. “Sorry,” she sighed, curly hair slipping from her messy bun. “I wanted to warn you before you went back out. Pierre is pissed.”
Your stomach sank. “Pissed… at me?”
She nodded, another dark curl escaping. “Something about saving the table up front for his friends? Bullshit, yes,” she said at your expression. “But you know how he is.”
“Yeah, I know,” you muttered. Deciding there was nothing to be done but keep moving, you hefted your plates higher. “Okay, thanks for the warning. I need to get these to table ten.”
“No problem,” she said and stepped out of your way.
You walked inside with slightly less spring in your step. Pierre lounged near the bar, surrounded by a group of people you could only assume to be friends. Although you felt his gaze on your face, you avoided him the best you could while you made your rounds. Taking the long way to the kitchen, you passed in front of the window.
Which was the moment you noticed Jungkook waiting for you on the curb. He stood beneath a streetlight, light pooling around the ends of his dark hair. When he saw you approach, his face lit up and he smiled.
Cursing beneath your breath, you smiled back. You were supposed to be done a half-hour ago, but there hadn’t been a good time yet to stop. Waving back, you mouthed, just a minute, and frantically pushed through the crowd to the back.
Merely seeing his face lifted a weight from your chest. It was easy to be around Jungkook because he liked every part of you. You never felt the urge to pretend, to curve yourself into something someone else would find pleasurable.
Well, he liked every part except one – and you were working on telling him that.
Hurrying into the staff room, you forgot your plan to avoid Pierre. You nearly jumped a mile when a hand grabbed your elbow, spinning you to face your fuming manager.
Pierre stared down his nose. “Follow me,” he snapped, releasing your arm to spin around.
He passed tables full of patrons, leading you to the bar before turning. “Y/N,” Pierre said, his voice dropping. “Are things okay tonight?”
“Yes,” you responded, deciding one-word answers were safest.
“Then why, exactly, are you fucking this up?”
Your jaw tensed. “I wasn’t aware I was doing so,” you said carefully.
“The napkins?” Pierre made a tsk-ing sound. “How many times should I say that presentation is important? Not to mention your laziness. One of your tables had to flag me down to ask for a refill. And now, you gave away the front table.” His expression darkened. “What makes you think you, a fucking waitress, can step in for a host? You sat someone at the table I personally reserved for my friends!”
You shouldn’t have responded. You should have stayed quiet and yet –
“There was no name in the book,” you muttered.
“What’s that?” Pierre waited and, when you stayed silent, shook his head. “I hadn’t had time to write their name down, but I told Vanessa, who assured me it’d happen. Of course, she wasn’t taking into consideration Y/N, the wonder waitress! Taking everyone’s jobs and making them harder.”
At your sides, your hands balled into fists. It took a greater amount of concentration than normal to keep your emotions from spilling over.
Of course, there were explanations for Pierre’s accusations. The napkins were correct before he jostled the table. You had been circulating your tables and if you were unavailable, it was because of his poor staffing. Oh, and – he didn’t make a reservation for his friends.
Slowly, you exhaled and stuffed down the responses. Deep down, with other emotions and magic. Beyond Pierre, a glass trembled but once you relaxed, the water went still.
“I apologize,” you said, not meeting his gaze. “I’ll do better next time.”
Pierre sniffed. “See that you do,” he said, brushing past. Grabbing a beer from the bar, you heard his friends burst into raucous laughter. Apparently, your humiliation was entertaining.
Heaving a small sigh, you turned – and froze where you stood.
Outside, Jungkook stared into the restaurant with murderous eyes. Too late, you realized Pierre had pulled you in front of the window. Away from anyone dining, but in full view of anyone on the sidewalk. Like your boyfriend, who witnessed the entire spectacle.
For a moment, your emotions overwhelmed, and you felt magic crack the walls you kept hidden. Embarrassment crept past your boundaries. Humiliation. Fury. Stuffing everything back, you quickly turned to rush through the tables.
Jungkook’s gaze snapped towards you, his brow furrowing. Reaching the staff room, you paced up and down. Jungkook saw you. He saw Pierre’s outburst, which meant you’d have to explain. You’d have to explain to Jungkook – the only person whose opinion you cared about – why you allowed other people to walk all over you.
He’d start to ask questions. Questions like, when was the last time you really got mad? You’d have no good response. Not because you don’t get mad, because you do. But because you don’t ever allow yourself to act on the feeling.
Faced with the prospect of brushing him off, you buried your face in both hands. Your usual excuses wore thin in your ears.
Pierre isn’t so bad. It was a one-time thing. You promise you’ll talk to Pierre tomorrow.
None of it would be true, and you didn’t want to lie to Jungkook. People never understood why you wouldn’t stand up for yourself, but the answer was complicated.
Your last date said you lacked emotions, but you don’t think that’s it. Of course, you have feelings, but those feelings are buried beneath so many layers, they can be hard to see. It’s not that you don’t feel, it’s that you cannot.
When you feel, your magic reacts, and people get hurt.
That was the last part of yourself you kept hidden. Jungkook is normal and he doesn’t know you’re an Elemental.
You know that by now, you should have said something. Obviously, but the timing was never right. Twenty-five years old, and you still aren’t sure how to broach the conversation. Few people know what you are, so you haven’t had much experience with the explanation. Your magic isn’t something you use if you can help it.
Yet another lesson you learned from your mom.
Your dad, an Elemental, died when you were five. Before, you lived near the ocean on a flat strip of sand. Your memories from before then are faint, but whenever you try, you can hear his booming laugh. Can feel the salt sting your cheeks, your mom tossing you in the air while you spun around.
Everything afterwards faded. At five years old, a hurricane swept past the barrier islands and that, you remember. You recall your mom at the door, pleading with your dad not to go as he donned his jacket. You remember him holding her hand, kissing the top of your head, and saying he’d return soon. Not many Elementals lived in your area, and even fewer had water magic.
You recall the hours passing, stretching longer and longer until dawn approached. Flashing lights followed, a woman climbing from her car to speak to your mom. You recall the sound of your mom sobbing, the policewoman’s voice floating into the house.
The storm surge was stronger than expected, but your dad managed to divert the worst. He saved the town only to be hit by a bolt of lightning. Instant death, the policewoman said, her tone implying this might be a comfort. Chest tight, your fingertips dug into the railing. Comfort meant nothing when your dad was gone. The irony struck you even back then – your dad saved others, and no one came to save him.
For weeks following, your mom was a ghost. At first, neighbors stopped by to drop off casseroles and condolences. Soon though, their sympathy stopped, and the whispers began. You were young enough not to notice, too consumed by the enormity of your own loss.
Eventually though, you noticed something was off. Suspicious eyes followed you down the sidewalk. Mothers clutched at their children, hurrying them to the side of an empty street. One day, you traipsed downstairs and overheard your mom on the phone.
She sat at the kitchen table, facing away from the staircase. You paused on the landing, listening to your aunt’s voice blast on speakerphone.
“Nonsense,” she was saying. “Your husband was a hero, and anyone saying otherwise is cracked. He saved your town!”
“I know.” Your mom blew her nose. “But now, people are wondering if he caused the storm. They’re saying maybe he… made the hurricane. It’s this new mayor,” she said, frustrated. “He hates Elementals and keeps insisting our family orchestrated this to collect money. He says –”
“Oh, no.” Your aunt sounded furious. “Don’t you repeat a single word that hateful man says.”
“He has a point, though,” your mom said, her voice low. “Did you hear about Uniontown? A fire Elemental accidentally set their barn on fire. Nearly burned the whole town. Magic is dangerous. I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen, and now –”
“When was the last time your husband lost control, though? Are you saying you think he caused a hurricane?”
“God, no!” You watched your mom straighten. “But there are people saying… awful things.”
“Some people aren’t worth listening to.”
“I know.” Wearily, she exhaled. “They’re talking about Y/N, too, though. Apparently, she caused a tidal wave at the pool last weekend.”
Hearing your name said out loud, you shrank back in the shadows. You weren’t aware your mom knew about that, or that she cared. Bobby Clemmons teased Judith Bryce about her hair until finally, you snapped. Bobby was swept to the other end of the pool, much to Judith’s relief. She thanked you repeatedly.
Bobby was fine, except for some water up his nose. From the way he carried on though, you’d have thought he broke his arm.
Your mother lowered her voice, as though magic was something to be mentioned only in whispers. For the first time, a sense of shame crept over you. Your dad had always been open about magic, though stern. Stern in his belief magic should help people, not hurt. Never once did your dad insinuate magic itself was the problem.
Magic is dangerous.
Your mom’s words on the phone sank in as, your head pounding as you turned around to run up the steps. Even at six, you felt panic. If magic was dangerous and you were magical – that meant you were dangerous, too.
Slipping beneath your comforter, you stared at your shaking hands. Rain hit your windows, snowballing your worry to full-on fear. By the time your mom rushed upstairs, you were rocking under the covers as a storm raged.
She helped to calm you down, got your magic under control and a month after, you moved far away from the sea. A version of yourself vanished as you passed the pier. Despite this, you felt instant relief at the thought of control.
You remember your mom smiling when you joined the highway. “This will be good,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “A fresh start, away from it all. You can be whoever you want to be, Y/N.”
Except for the person you actually were.
Her meaning was clear, even if she didn’t say it out loud. At the time, you found the thought soothing. If you didn’t want to use magic, you didn’t have to. You never had to become your dad, who all your friends said had caused the bad storm. Even the news had turned against you.
Earth Elemental suspected behind San Raoul earthquake!
Jailed air Elemental claims innocence against onslaught of tornadoes!
Fire Elementals flee after string of arson!
Always the exclamation point. Always the lurid fascination that blame could be pinned on a single person. New rules were implemented in the house. No magic, except in your mom’s presence. This soon became no magic at all, but you didn’t mind. Whenever you did use magic, it felt wild, chaotic – the opposite of how you wanted to feel.
Your early years were marked by the struggle to conceal your powers. Years passed without incident and then, something would happen, and you’d have to move. Your mom never begrudged you, simply packed the house to travel to the next city. Each time, you promised you’d do better but by the time you realized school wasn’t for you, you had moved no less than six times.
Art was a risk, though one you found necessary.
Creation meant tapping into emotion, but you found methods of coping. Painting was the only place you loosened the reins on your magic, and so it became an outlet of sorts. A release, preventing your emotions from spilling into unwanted places.
There were other strategies, as well. Deep breathing. Counting backwards from one hundred. Focusing on one point, then on another until the magic calmed in your veins. Until you forgot the dangerous and destructive water around you.
Some people proved more reactionary to you than others. With some people, your magic responded so strongly, you were forced to cut them out completely. The first person this happened with was your best friend, Katrina. You were fourteen when she confided in you her family was fire Elementals. In response, your magic surged.
For a glorious summer, you practiced magic in secret. Each morning, you and Katrina bounded through the woods towards the far creek. You summoned great waves of water for Katrina to singe into mist. Everything was fine until late one evening, your mom caught you. She witnessed the combined magic and lost her temper.
Dragging you from the woods, your mom slammed the front door in Katrina’s face. She sat you down at the kitchen table, delivering a scolding you’ve never forgotten.
Do you know how reckless you were? What if a tree had caught fire? What if you altered the town’s water supply? What if someone saw and the next time a disaster happened, they blamed it on you – or Katrina?
Stricken by these very real possibilities, you promised not to do it again. Although you begged not to move, your mom packed the next day – your fastest exit ever.
The second time you cut someone out was after high school. Elliot was an artist, a quiet guy who dabbled with oils. He saw you painting one day in the park and silently set up his easel beside yours. This happened for weeks until he asked you out. Your ensuing romance was brief and sweet, and your feelings grew within a short period of time.
When Elliot told you he loved you, you dissolved into panic. You could feel how your magic responded, reaching for water that surged through his tiny apartment. Tossing on clothes, you stammered apologies and fled into the night.
For weeks following, it rained. Enough for the reporters to forecast local flooding. The fact terrified you – imagining people trapped on top of cars, small businesses flooded, the Red Cross called in to ferry locals to safety. It took your mom flying out to put you at ease, clearing the skies and regaining control.
Since then, you haven’t let anyone else past your inner walls. Until Jungkook.
Swallowing hard, you stare at his apartment and wonder if you’ll survive. Breaking up with Elliot is one of your worst memories and you only felt a fraction of what you do for Jungkook. Maybe you’ll conjure a hurricane, bringing the events of your life full circle.
Shutting your eyes, you rub at them dully. There’s no point in wondering what-if. You need to end it now, before things get worse. All day, you’ve gone over the facts and arrived at the same conclusion.
As expected, Jungkook was livid about Pierre last night. He wanted to confront your boss himself, although quickly backed off when he realized this was your battle. This though, turned to confusion when you said your intent to do nothing.
Although you tried the usual excuses, none of them stuck. Even if it was just once, Jungkook argued, it shouldn’t go unnoticed. You snapped slightly at this, insisting you’d deal with things in your own time.
Getting angry near Jungkook was peculiar. Suddenly, you became aware of the water around you. Thick, leaden pipes lacing Jungkook’s walls. Moisture that hung in the air, in the clouds – within his very veins. The thought terrified you, wondering what you might do accidentally.
Your panic must have been visible, because Jungkook instantly softened. Crossing the room, he pulled you into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “It’s just… I hate seeing you hurt. Of course, you know what’s best. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
His grip grounded you, enough that your magic dissipated, and that you realized a truth you’d hidden for some time.
You were in love with Jungkook.
No one in your life had ever been like him. Someone who was always in your corner, who protected you when they could and lifted up parts they couldn’t. Someone who liked everything about you – even the parts you weren’t brave enough to admit.
Studying his face, you tried to ignore the sudden ache in your chest. Even last night, you knew the inevitable. Memorizing his face, you tried hard to hold on. Jungkook’s slightly rounded nose, his full bottom lip accentuated by two piercings. Dark hair fell over his forehead; strong features contrasted by a soft gaze.
Jungkook watched you as well, and you wondered if he felt the same. Wondered why he’d commit you to memory, since you were the lucky one. He was the miracle, and you were biding your time.
Bending, he lightly brushed your mouth against his. Instantly, you melted. It wasn’t your first kiss and prayed it wouldn’t be the last, but something about last night felt different. Walking the two of you backwards, Jungkook pressed you against the wall and kissed you harder. His touch became desperate, one hand sliding beneath the lines of your blouse.
Your breath hitched at the brush of his fingers, delicious and warm against skin. His touch unknotted a hidden, tangled piece of your soul.
Ever since you met Jungkook, you’d held yourself separate. When you asked him to go slow in the beginning, he agreed. Touching was fine. Kissing was fine. Anything more, and you lost control.
About a month into dating, you met Jungkook at a bar and got tipsy. Three drinks in, you were frantically making out in an alley outside. Jungkook panted, “my place?” against your mouth, and you nodded. The journey back to his place was fast and slow, pausing in every dark place to drag his mouth to yours.
The second his door shut, you found yourself stumbling – into his bedroom, his bed, the confines of his heart. Shoes were discarded with every step, and Jungkook couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. You returned his fervor in spades, nipping his lower lip to watch him smile.
When he fell back on the bed, you saw his pulse quicken. Staring up at you, Jungkook watched your clothing disappear with a gaze so dark, it bordered on onyx. Climbing onto him, you resumed kissing with a newfound reverence. Eyes falling shut, you did your best to stay present.
Each brush of his lips was combustive, each touch of his hands filling you with sharp, pulsing light. And then –
The sink and shower in his bathroom burst on.
Startled, you pulled away and realized it had been you. Your magic had caused it, flooding his bathroom with water. Swearing under his breath, Jungkook scrambled out of bed to hastily turn off both faucets.
You sat there on his bed, heart pounding with fear. By the time he returned, you were already dressed and mortified. Jungkook was all apologies, certain he’d moved too fast, but you assured him he hadn’t. Anything that happened, you were an equal participant – too much maybe, although you didn’t say so out loud.
Lying in bed that night, you stared up at your ceiling. For a moment, it felt as though you were six and under the covers at your old house. Magic was dangerous. You would eventually hurt someone. Dread pooled in your stomach, recognizing the truth. If you couldn’t control your magic around Jungkook, you’d have to end things.
Heartache chased the thought, filling you with so much panic, you nearly drowned. Pushing this aside, you simply resolved to do better. To be better and keep both Jungkook and magic. This was simply another challenge; you owned your magic, not the other way around.
Thus, began the two best and worst months of your life. The best, since you’ve been dating Jungkook and the worst, because at every moment, you’re terrified of hurting him. Walking a line as thin as a razor, you’ve fallen in love while trying your best not to feel.
Until last night, you thought you’d been successful. Life was mostly under control, but then the Pierre debacle took place. Then Jungkook kissed you with such intensity, you forgot who you were and why you’d been holding back. Two long months of restraint and suddenly, you came undone at the seams.
Before long, you were again in his bedroom. Jungkook stripped off his clothes, bare skin pressing to yours with a searing intensity. Pulling you over him, a low hiss escaped while he kissed your throat. Even through his boxers, you could feel how hard Jungkook was. How badly he wanted this; a need you returned.
The thought of him inside you made you frantic. Pushing Jungkook onto his back, you straddled his waist and rocked forward.
Jungkook lay underneath you, his hair a dark halo. Suddenly, you could feel water everywhere. Magic, everywhere – it was in you, around you, in Jungkook’s walls and molecules. Everything felt so utterly fragile, and your magic responded.
Ferocious, it strained at your self-crafted bonds. Realizing how precarious your grasp on control was, your emotions slipped into panic.
You had to leave. Now.
Sensing the change in your body, Jungkook paused.
“I – I’m sorry,” you blurted, scrambling off him. Bending for your pants, you pushed one leg through and hastily zipped. “I need to go.”
Jungkook stared, frozen in place. “I…” Shaking his head, he pushed a hand through his hair. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”
Stomach dropping, you roughly shook your head. Part of you ached to correct him but your magic was barely leashed, and you weren’t certain how much longer it’d hold.
Your magic wasn’t something you wanted Jungkook to see.
Frantically throwing on your shirt, you rushed towards his front door. His dog, Bam, whined from the couch and lifted his head as you passed. Yanking open his door, you escaped to the hall and downstairs. You heard Jungkook call after, but he didn’t follow, for which you were grateful.
Remembering his face broke your heart as you entered the subway. You kept your magic at bay until reaching your building, at which point rain swept the city in waves. Soaked through, you got in the elevator and saw Jungkook had texted. Shaking, you responded you’d talk to him tomorrow and turned off your phone.
Rain poured all night and you barely slept. By the time you woke, your mood had gotten worse. Work was torture. Even the lunch shift couldn’t save you, the looming specter of Jungkook impossible to forget. When Pierre showed up around one, you knew you were doomed. His glower could be felt all the way across the restaurant and no matter what you did, you somehow stayed in his way.
With little to no sleep and haunted by last night, the grip on your magic was tentative at best. Your entire shift, it hovered at the edge of your fingers. When Pierre commented you looked tired, the rain outside worsened. When a table of middle-aged men called you ‘girlie,’ their water glasses shook.
It was miraculous nothing happened until the end of your shift. That was the moment Pierre’s friends arrived, seating themselves at the table you gave away last night. One of them laughed as you poured them water, and you managed to push down your snide remark.
Glasses full, you turned around to go and the same one grabbed your waist.
You went still.
For so long, you’ve hidden your magic to protect others. You’ve kept them from hurting and there you were, broken, and no one cared about you. Just like no one cared about your dad, in the end. Teeth gritted, you whirled – and the entire water pitcher dumped itself at him.
At him, not on him.
You didn’t trip. Didn’t throw the water, although either would have been preferrable. Instead, the water leapt from the pitcher to slap the man in the face.
Horrified, you stared as reality sunk in. You had just assaulted a guest – a friend of Pierre’s, at that.
Shocked, the man wiped water down his visage. The entire restaurant fell silent, every eye in the room locked on you. Panic-stricken, you stammered an apology, flung a napkin on the table and fled into the kitchen.
The moment you crashed through the doors, you were hailed a hero. Izumi, your line cook, wistfully recalled the one time she punched a guy who grabbed her ass. Georgina added that once, she spit in the drink of a man who called her a bitch.
Both tactfully avoided the fact that you were an Elemental, which you appreciated. You were starting to feel marginally better – maybe you wouldn’tbe fired, after all – when the door to the kitchen swung open and Pierre stormed through. Seeing his face, your heart sank.
“You!” Spittle flew from his lips as he pointed. “Y/N – pack your things! You’re done here. Fired. You think you can insult my friend, pull some magic bullshit on him, and continue to work here? Fuck that. Get out – now!”
A pin could have been heard in the silence. Coming to your senses, you did exactly as asked and got your things. Pierre hadn’t mentioned pressing charges, and you didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out.
Outside, you stood on the sidewalk and stared at the bus stop. Storm clouds brewed above, a visualization of your inner turmoil. Eventually, you turned and trudged down the subway.
Things had reached a point you couldn’t ignore anymore. You were beyond out of control. Emotions surged and strained against your internal walls, threatening everyone you held dear. The city didn’t deserve to be punished, even if no one within it knew of your sacrifice. Pierre’s friends were awful, but you could’ve just as easily lost your temper with someone you loved.
Someone like Jungkook, whom you couldn’t seem to be around without incident.
That was the reason most people feared Elementals. It was selfish of you to put your desires ahead of another person’s safety. The only way to protect someone you loved was to stay away.
Starting with Jungkook. You just wished he didn’t have to get hurt in order for that to happen.
Standing outside his building, you take a deep breath and press the buzzer. You wait for several long moments, wondering if he’s home and then –
“Hello?” Jungkook’s voice crackles over the speaker.
Leaning in, you press 316. “Hey. It’s me. Y/N.”
A weighted pause, and then –
“Come in.”
The door unlocks, and you push it inside. Climbing the steps to his place, your heart starts to pound. The last time you saw Jungkook, you were running away. The last text he sent was, ‘ok,’ in response to your message. If you were Jungkook, you wouldn’t be thrilled to see you.
Coming to a stop outside 316, you lift your hand and knock. A howl responds, followed by the patter of gigantic dog footsteps. Unable to stop your smile, you shake your head at the chaos.
“It’s just me, Bam!” you say, and he stops.
Bam’s howl is replaced with a whine and the sharp thwack-thwack of his tail on the door.
“Bam, out of the way,” Jungkook calls, his voice coming closer. A few seconds later, the door flies open to reveal your boyfriend.
You only catch a glimpse before Bam barrels out, nearly knocking you over. Legs and tail akimbo, he slobbers all over until you bend to pet him. Once satisfied, Bam turns around and trots back inside.
Silence falls between you, and you look up to see Jungkook. He’s dressed casually, sweatpants and a t-shirt bought at a concert you attended. He hasn’t moved aside, blocking you from entering.
Uncertain, you straighten. “Can I come in?”
Slowly, he nods and moves. You walk past him, trying not to focus on the heat of his shoulder. This might be the last time you see Jungkook, so you try to focus on that. Not the prospect of what you’re about to do.
Hearing the door shut, you take a deep breath and turn to face him. “I can’t stay too long,” you admit, digging your nails into the palms of your hands.
Jungkook regards you warily. His expression makes your chest ache, unused to him with such a stern expression. After last night, you suppose it’s earned. You should probably get used to it.
“Y/N.” His jaw works. “What’s going on?”
Deciding honesty is the best policy – up to a point – you force out your next words. “I think we should break up,” you say in a rush.
With a low whine, Bam slinks in the direction of the bedroom. Jungkook glances at him, distracted, before facing forward.
“What do you mean?” His head tilts. “Like, you want to take a break?”
Steeling yourself, you shake your head. “No. As in, I want to break up. Permanently.”
A train passes by the building, rumbling the floorboards underneath. Most people would avoid living in this building for that reason, but Jungkook was overjoyed by the prospect of discounted rent.
He doesn’t seem overjoyed now, though. Instead, he looks stricken.
“Walk me through this,” Jungkook says, walking closer. The set of his mouth has turned stubborn. “I don’t follow. Why are we breaking up again?”
The knot in your chest tightens. You should have known Jungkook wouldn’t make this easy on you. “We’re not good together,” you say, only to correct yourself. “I mean, I’m not good for you. I’m not in a place where I can be in a relationship.”
He comes to a stop. “I can wait, Y/N. I don’t mind.”
Reaching for you, Jungkook’s brows crease when you take a step backwards. His hand falls between you, and he stares at the empty space. The crack in your heart widens, made worse by his silence.
“I mind, though,” you force yourself to say. “I can’t ask you to wait for me, Jungkook. That’s not fair to either of us. It’s too much pressure.”
The words make your heart splinter, reaching a point you aren’t sure can be reassembled. Maybe the pieces will simply lodge in your muscle, bruising your insides each time you draw breath.
“I won’t pressure you,” Jungkook says, automatic. His frown deepens. “Tell me what this is really about, Y/N. Is this about sex? It’s fine if we don’t have it.” Stepping closer, he takes your hand and you let him. “I just want you to be honest with me.”
Somewhat manic, you shake your head – and then nod.
Sex is a part of the problem, but it’s not the root cause. Sex with Jungkook is unthinkable. You can barely remain in control when you kiss, let alone allow more. With your past partners, this wasn’t an issue, but your past partners weren’t Jungkook.
Never have you met someone able to scramble your thoughts with a kiss. Whose gaze melted inhibitions and tore down every wall. You have little doubt that with Jungkook, you’d lose full control, and the thought is terrifying. Already, your makeshift barriers are weakened.
Rain splatters against the window, and your stomach lurches.
“Seriously, Y/N,” Jungkook says, returning your attention to him. “What’s this about? I can tell something’s on your mind.”
He takes your other hand, and you realize how close he stands. “Is it work?” Jungkook asks, a crease between brows. “Is there… some reason you can’t quit? You can tell me, Y/N.”
An odd zing of disappointment goes through you. For a moment, you thought Jungkook had guessed your secret, and this could all be avoided. If Jungkook knew what you were and that you lied to him – well, he’d end things for you. Hesitant, you consider revealing that truth but can’t seem to form words. It would devastate you, seeing fear replace love in his eyes.
“Work isn’t the problem,” you say at last. “It’s us, Jungkook. Or – it’s me. I don’t want to be together anymore.”
Disbelief flashes across his expression, and you idly wonder what will happen if Jungkook refuses. Even as you think this though, his expression shifts. Jungkook takes a careful step backwards, dropping your hands entirely.
He’s never been good at hiding emotion. Jungkook is your opposite in that way, revealing every shift of thought and desire. You watch confusion become anger, then bitterness a moment before he turns away. The set of his shoulders is still, staring out the window as yet another train passes.
Restless, he turns to drag a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe you,” he declares. “This is so out of nowhere, Y/N. What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m telling you everything,” you say, panic rising. “And this isn’t out of nowhere! I’ve been telling you for months I need to take things slow and this – well, this is the opposite of slow, Jungkook!”
Jungkook stares back at you, heated. “Yeah, I guess so.”
The two of you stand there for a moment, the tension thick in between you. Eventually, you look away first and pull your bag tighter.
“Right,” you exhale. “Well, I should go –”
Striding forward, Jungkook reaches you to cup your face with both palms. Gently, he lifts your face towards him, and all thoughts cease completely. Gaze searching, his breath fans across your parted lips.
Jungkook’s gaze intensifies. “I don’t believe you,” he murmurs.
Adrenaline zips under your skin, stirring your magic into a deadly storm. Entire body tense, you suppress the urge to fight or flee. So often, you’re the one running but right now, you feel more compelled to fight.
A knife in you twists, knowing you’re a coward. If you were stronger, you could keep Jungkook. No matter how understanding he is, the fact remains that if he stays with you, Jungkook remains in danger. Each passing day only worsens the pain.
His face blurs. With a start of surprise, you realize there are tears on your cheeks. The furrow between Jungkook’s brows deepens, noticing as well.
“You’re not listening,” you blurt. “I can’t see you any longer, Jungkook. It’s in your best interest, I promise – I can’t do this. It’s too much.”
Reaching up, you remove his hands from your face and head for the door.
Jungkook follows close behind. “Which is it, then?” he demands. “You want me to go slowly, or you feel too much?”
Pressure weighs every inch of your skin, demanding you answer. Anything that comes out now will only make things harder. Reaching the door, you feel Jungkook’s hand on your shoulder. Caving, you don’t fight when Jungkook turns you to face him.
He’s too close to you. Too much and too close, his one hand sliding to cup the back of your neck. Slowly, his thumb strokes the elongated line of your throat. You swallow, hard, and his gaze follows the motion.
Jungkook’s gaze flicks to yours. “You keep saying you’re no good for me,” he says, his voice low. “But what if I don’t care? Don’t I get a say in this decision?”
The force of holding in your magic worsens, becoming near impossible. Hastily built walls threaten to collapse, and reality blurs between one moment and the next.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt, your hand searching behind you. “I have to go.”
Finding the doorknob, you twist and stumble backwards. Jungkook watches you go, the look on his face physically painful as you turn around. Each second that follows is pure concentration, trying not to break before getting outside.
The ocean is only a few blocks from Jungkook’s apartment.
Reaching the harbor, rain pelts your face in a way that feels punishing. Magic makes your limbs tremble, escaping your body in wisps of fog and rain. The moment you arrive at the harbor, you shatter, collapsing forward to grip your knees with both hands.
Eyes pressed tightly shut, you hear the storm howl. Waves churn the harbor, sloshing over the sidewalk in an attempt to get closer. No tidal waves, you plead in an attempt at reason. No whirlpools, no water spouts.
Your magic listens in this regard, at least. By the time your eyes open, a curtain of rain mingles with tears on your cheeks. Staring out at the ocean, each inch of your body is numb.
Jungkook will never forgive you for this.
The thought banishes all the rest. You can’t say that you blame him. Slowly, you exhale as you lift your gaze. The chasm in your chest widens, becoming something unbreachable. This is all your fault. You wish there was some satisfaction in knowing this, but there isn’t.
Eventually, the rain dulls, and you push yourself upright. Your sneakers squish with every step, the silence all-encompassing as you ride on the subway. Entering the building, you remove your shoes and collapse on your bed, fully clothed. Thankfully, your roommate isn’t home, so you aren’t forced to explain the events of tonight. Seokjin would have wanted to discuss, and you aren’t sure you can without breaking down.
Burrowing your face into the pillows, you manage to cry yourself asleep. Rain doesn’t let up the entire night.
“Tell me again.” Taking a seat at the table, Seokjin spoons yogurt and berries into his mouth. “Why did you have to end things with your boyfriend?”
Cracking open one eye, you glare from where you sit, slumped forward. “You know why, Seokjin,” you grumble. “Not all of us can be air Elementals in perfect control of their magic.”
“You could be, though,” he says, pointing with his spoon. “If you put in like, five seconds of training and embraced your water powers instead of running away whenever things got bad.”
“I am not running.”
“No.” Seokjin lifts a brow. “You’re cowering, which is far less attractive.”
“I’m not cowering, either.” Scowling, you bury your head deeper into your arms. “I’m wallowing. Big difference.”
Scoffing, his spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl. Pushing his chair back to stand, Seokjin heads for the sink and turns on the tap. The water itches a spot deep in your chest, almost taunting.
“I can’t be too hard on you, though,” Seokjin says as he cleans. “You did get fired and dumped in one day – that’s pretty rough.”
“Does it count as being dumped if I did the dumping?”
“I’ll allow it.” He opens the dishwasher. “But only because really, you didn’t want to break up with Jungkook. You’ve just convinced yourself the world is better off without you – something I highly disagree with, by the way, but can’t fault you for feeling. It’s too sad.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, and close your eyes.
Two days have gone by since your decision to end your relationship with Jungkook. It hasn’t been great, to put things mildly. On Monday, you barely left your room and rain poured from the sky. When you did enter the kitchen, the weather person on Channel 9 predicted local flooding.
Seokjin arrived from his business trip that night, took one look at your face and helped stop the storm. You sagged with relief, falling into a fitful round of sleep that only lasted three hours.
Seokjin is one of the few Elementals you know who embraces their power. Both his parents are air Elementals, and he was raised to take over their magical consulting business. Said business does well, leading Seokjin to own a gorgeous, three-bedroom apartment in the middle of the city. He got bored last winter, decided to post for a roommate and here you are. One of the few people in the city willing to room with an Elemental.
You don’t care what Seokjin does with his magic, although his laissez-faire attitude can occasionally be unnerving. You’ve lived your entire life with the assumption your existence is dangerous. All you need is a quick Google search to reinforce this fact. But then there’s Seokjin, living his life, seemingly none the worse for the wear.
He discovered your powers about a month into rooming together. Coming back from a trip, Seokjin opened the door to stare, slack-jawed, as plates washed themselves in the sink. Glancing up from your book at the table, you immediately sent two dishes crashing onto the floor.
Seokjin stared at this for a moment, then looked up. “You owe me new plates,” he declared and walked into his bedroom. After a moment, he popped his head out. “Hey – you think if we combined my wind and your water, we could create a waterspout but on land?”
“That’s… a tornado, Seokjin.”
“Right.” He slapped the doorframe once and disappeared. “Well, something to think about!”
Months later, Seokjin still doesn’t understand your avoidance of magic, but respects the decision enough to leave it alone. At least, until something like this happens and he’s again at a loss.
“Listen.”
Turning around, he shuts the dishwasher with his hip.
“Oh, no.” You grimace. “What now?”
Seokjin raises both hands. “Nothing, nothing. Far be it from me to comment on your mistakes. I’m sorry – did I say mistakes? I meant, ‘learned life experience.’ Through mistakes.”
“Was there a question in all that?”
“No question.” Loosely, he gestures. “Just wanted to say you can stay here, rent-free, until you figure this out. You know I’m only taking your money because you insist. I don’t need it. This place is already paid for.”
“Only because you frightened the seller so badly, they cut the price in half.”
“Listen.” Seokjin’s smile turns slightly sinister. “If they were willing to let their ingrained fear of Elementals influence their selling point, that’s on them. Not me.”
“Fair enough,” you sigh and sit back. “But seriously – thank you. This will give me some time to come up with a plan.”
Seokjin nods, tracing the rim of his coffee. Absently, he glances down the hall at the empty third bedroom. “You know…”
“No,” you say, automatic.
His right brow lifts. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“You were going to suggest I use this time off to work on my art.”
“Okay.” Seokjin shrugs. “Maybe you did know. But seriously, Y/N – why not?”
Weary, you exhale. “Because every time I try to paint, I get this… block. I can’t explain it. Watercolors used to be the one place I felt comfortable using my magic. Now… I don’t know. I can’t seem to use my magic anywhere. Even my art.”
Seokjin tilts his head, thoughtful. “How long has this been going on?”
“Don’t know – a few months?”
“Not long after you started dating Jungkook.”
Staring at Seokjin, you realize he’s right. That’s exactly around when you began dating Jungkook. The block happened not long after. Thinking about the early days of dating are painful though, and so you choose not to.
“I don’t want to talk about him,” you declare with a shake of your head. “Right now, what I need is a job. And to earn money. Preferably in that order.”
Seokjin’s lips twitch. “Let me know if the order changes. I know a guy.”
Before you can consider his offer too seriously, your phone rings on the table. Glancing down, your heart constricts at your mom’s name. It isn’t that you don’t want to talk. It’s that if you do, Jungkook’s name will come up, and you’ll be forced to explain why you two aren’t together. Right now, you’re managing to cope by avoiding the topic. You aren’t sure what will happen if you’re forced to confront it.
Not to mention the very real possibility your mom will be happy. She liked Jungkook, but she always worries whenever someone new enters your life.
Also glancing at your phone, Seokjin scowls. “Don’t answer it,” he says, walking past. “Whenever you talk to your mom, things get even worse.”
Seokjin’s not wrong. Your mom means well – really, she does – but talking to her tends to leave you exhausted. Still, you know from experience it’s better to answer now.
“I know,” you sigh and stand up. “But if I don’t pick up now, she’ll just keep calling. Hey,” you say, pressing answer. “One second, mom.”
Ignoring Seokjin’s sad shake of his head, you scoop up your coffee and head for your bedroom.
Closing the door to your room, you lean backwards. “Hi, mom,” you say, lifting your phone to your ear. “Sorry about that. I was eating breakfast. How are you?”
“Oh, you know,” your mom says, and you can practically hear her smile. “Same old, same old. The better question is, how are you? I saw on the weather there’s some flooding by you. Hope you’re alright!”
Grimacing, you move the phone to speaker. You should have known your mom would check in. Reading between the lines of her question, you can hear what she’s really asking. Your mom wants to know if you caused the flooding – an answer which is undeniably yes, but she doesn’t have to know that.
Setting down your half-empty mug, you flop face-first on your bed. Less information tends to be more with your mom. You’re debating what to say when she solves the problem for you.
“I know you haven’t had a slip in years,” she continues. “But if there’s another water Elemental in town, you should try to steer clear of them! Being around them could set you off – that’s what happened to Becky’s nephew, she said.”
Fighting an eye roll, you roll on your back. Becky Mayweather is your mom’s best friend in the entire world and one of your least favorite people. She’s the type to bake cookies, offer a shoulder to cry on – and then promptly turn and gossip to the neighbors about it. She fancies herself an Elemental expert because a few of her friends married them. Funnily enough, neither you nor your mom have met these friends in person.
“Oh?” you ask. “I never noticed.”
“It’s true! You know that I worry, Y/N. All alone in the city with another Elemental for a roommate…”
Annoyance spikes in your stomach. “His name is Seokjin, and I’m an Elemental too, mom. His mom could say the same thing about me.”
Seokjin’s mom could be saying that, but she wouldn’t because Seokjin’s mom and dad are both magic enthusiasts. The few times you met them, they were nothing but kind.
“Oh, Y/N.” Your mom sighs. “It’s not the same.”
“Why not?”
“Watch your tone,” she says. “I’m only telling the truth. You work hard on controlling your magic. Your roommate, on the other hand, uses his magic willy-nilly. In broad daylight! You two couldn’t be more different.”
Your mom isn’t wrong about that, although not for the reason she thinks. Seokjin does use his magic freely, but you’re the one at risk of hurting others – not him.
“Seokjin is a good guy,” you say tightly. “He’s letting me stay here, rent-free, while I search for another job.”
“Another job?” Her voice pitches. “What happened to the job at that restaurant?”
Cursing yourself for your own stupidity, you close your eyes. “Um… I was let go. Difference of opinions with management.”
“Oh. Well. That’s too bad, Y/N, I’m sorry. It’s probably for the best – you don’t want to be working for someone you don’t respect, right?”
Some of your anger lessens at her genuine sympathy. It’d be easy to paint your mom as the villain but truthfully, she comes from a good place. You know that she loves you; she just doesn’t want to lose you the same way she lost your dad.
Exhaling deeply, you reach to grab a pillow. “I’ve been trying to paint,” you say. “It hasn’t been going well.”
“No?”
You frown at the obvious joy in her voice.
“Yeah,” you admit.
“Well…” Your mom draws the word out. “We always knew art was a risky hobby, Y/N. Painting. With watercolors. Something could easily go wrong and put you in danger.”
“I know, mom.”
“Actually,” she adds, her excitement growing. “Maybe this is a sign. Y/N – what if this means your powers are weakening?”
Your entire body goes still. “What?”
“Yes!” she says, oblivious to the panic in your voice. “You always loved watercolors because they made sense to you, right? Because of your… well, magic. What if a block means your powers are growing weaker? I wonder if other Elementals ever lose touch with their magic. I’ll have to ask Becky.”
Irrational anger surges within, and you hear the faucet in your bathroom turn on. Hastily, you work to turn it back off.
“You don’t need to do that,” you blurt. “I’ll research it myself. Actually, I should get going – I wanted to apply for some jobs this morning.”
“Oh, yes – good call, honey. You go and apply. Let me know if you need help. Becky has connections with the local university. I’m sure someone could help you update your resume – or even apply, if that sounds interesting to you.”
“Thanks,” you say, although it absolutely does not. “That’s a nice offer.”
“Have a good day, honey – I love you!”
“Love you, too,” you say before hanging up.
Dropping the phone onto your bed, you hug your pillow tightly. It takes several long minutes to relax, wading your way through an anxious sea of thought. Although your mom means well, conversations with her tend to leave you feeling drained. Since you were young, it’s felt like your mom has an idea of the perfect child, and they aren’t you.
Eventually, you stand to bring your mug to the kitchen. Seokjin is busy making another pot of coffee, the delicious scent wafting overhead.
Passing him by, you eye this warily. “Isn’t that your third pot this morning?”
“And?” Seokjin reaches for his mug. “You’ve had three cups yourself.”
“Touché,” you sigh, collapsing on the couch.
Minutes later, Seokjin enters the living room and hands you a mug.
Staring into the drink, you say, “Thanks.”
Settling onto the sofa, Seokjin examines you over the rim of his coffee. You ignore him, taking a long sip of your drink. A summer breeze wafts through the window, and with a flick of his wrist, Seokjin sends it back out.
A stab of envy goes through you, although you know it’s irrational. Seokjin always makes magic look easy, but you’ve never found it to be so. Maybe when you were younger, before the crippling fear and anxiety had a chance to set in. The only time magic ever felt normal was when you painted and now, you can’t even do that.
Thinking about painting makes you think about Jungkook though, causing the dull thud in your chest to become a sledgehammer. You miss him. Miss the easy way Jungkook made you laugh. How he insisted on constantly touching some part of your body.
Cupping your mug of coffee, you take another sip and sink into the sadness.
“Far be it from me to dole out advice.” Seokjin interrupts your tiny pity party. “But I think you’re going about this the wrong way.”
Too exhausted to argue, you merely exhale. “What’s the right way, then?”
His head tilts. “I don’t know. But I find it weird your block appeared around the same time you started dating Jungkook. You’ve…” Seokjin hesitates, and you recognize his how-do-I-put-this-delicately face. “You’ve given up a lot over the years, Y/N. Maybe this time, you gave up more of yourself than you realized.”
Silently, you wonder whether he’s right. For too long, you’ve gone through the motions of life without really living. Too scared of letting people in, scaring them off, of being yourself. Perhaps giving up Jungkook will be the final straw. The thought doesn’t comfort you, and you have no response.
After a moment, Seokjin turns on the TV. The morning slips by, though you can’t help but think about his earlier comments – could you control your magic if you tried harder? The moment you think this, you instantly banish the thought. You’ve been attempting for months, and nothing has worked.
With this cheery thought, you allow yourself to sink further into melancholy. Only this time, the water rushing overheard isn’t your friend. You aren’t sure it ever was.
Wednesday morning, you leave the apartment in a haze. You thought that by today, things would be better but if anything, the situation seems to be worse.
Missing Jungkook is painful.
It hurts more than you thought, which might sound stupid, but that doesn’t make it any less true. When you and Elliot broke up, it was sad, but you knew it was for the best and that lessened some of the pain. Now though, each beat of your heart prevents the wound from closing. A tentative scab in one second, only to be torn open the next.
Jungkook always sent you good morning texts. Not because he was up before you, but because he went to bed so late, it was only an hour or two before you awoke. His words were the first thing you read in the morning, smiling sleepily at his rambling. Sometimes, Jungkook would include a late-night snack recipe. Always, he’d end with something he liked about you.
His silence is deafening. Something not even your favorite coffee shop can fix, although you try. Standing in line, you aimlessly flip through songs on your phone. Today, you promised Seokjin you’d attend at least two interviews. The first one is in an hour at a sushi restaurant. Before then, you plan to load up on caffeine and organize your thoughts.
When the line moves forward, you flip to your messages. No new texts. Unsurprising, but it rends the scab in your heart anew.
Facing forward, you remove an earbud to order. “Hi,” you say, mustering a smile. “I’ll have an iced americano with rose syrup.”
“Got it.” The barista barely looks up. “That all?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Want a receipt?”
“Nope.”
“Cool.” She nods. “That’ll be ready soon at the end of the counter.”
Nodding your thanks, you replace the ear pod. Cranking your music louder, you wait for your coffee and lean against the counter. The coffee shop is tiny, empty for a weekday after the morning rush. Aimless, you glance over the clustered tables.
Your thoughts are on Jungkook before they can be stopped. You wonder what he's doing, what he’s wearing, whether he’s blocked your number yet from his phone.
A talented graphic designer, Jungkook works mostly on commission and on his own time. He does well for himself – enough to afford rent on his own place. Your mutual creative streak was something you had in common. Not your sleeping hours, that’s for sure.
Jungkook usually slept until nine or ten, then went to the gym before he made breakfast. You used to tease him about that, saying he couldn’t call it breakfast if –
Your heart falters. Jungkook must be on your mind since you seem to have hallucinated him here, at the coffee shop. You blink once, and then twice, but the mirage doesn’t fade, and you’re forced to conclude Jungkook is actually here.
Unfolding himself from a chair, he heads in your direction. Panicked, you glance at the counter, then back up. Your coffee hasn’t finished, which means that you’re trapped. Straightening, you do your best to seem natural and are certain you fail. Jungkook doesn’t just look natural, he is so as he approaches. At least, until you notice his hands in his pockets.
Jungkook does this when he’s nervous. Likely, he’s playing with the inside pocket lining. It hurts, knowing him so well, and not being his. When Jungkook comes to a stop, you stand mere inches apart.
“Jungkook,” you say, his name punched from your diaphragm.
He nods. “Hey.”
Uncertain, you glance down at the counter to check for your drink. Still nothing and, looking back, you tilt your head. “What are you doing here?”
Jungkook’s hands go deeper, if possible. “Getting coffee. Is that allowed?”
Your lips press together. “Sure. Theoretically, you can get coffee. What I’m asking though, is why you chose this coffee shop, five blocks away from your place. Usually, you’re not awake before noon.”
His expression is inscrutable. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah.”
The silence between you lengthens, and not in a good way. You know why you’re quiet but can’t tell what Jungkook is thinking. You suppose that it’s possible he woke up early, forgot this was your favorite shop and went on a long walk for coffee – it’s possible, but unlikely.
At last, Jungkook exhales. “Alright, fine. I wanted to see you.”
“Y/N?”
Both of you turn at the sound of your name. Glancing between the two of you, the barista seems to pick up a weird vibe, dropping the cup to hurry away. Grateful for the interruption, you reach for your coffee and attempt to reset.
It’s not fair of Jungkook, corning you like this. You were already forced to end this once – unfair, making you do so again. Breaking up with him once was barely possible; twice is unthinkable.
“Don’t you have anything else to say?”
His voice interrupts your train of thought and, gripping your drink tightly, you turn.
“Like what?” you ask.
“Like, I don’t know.” His brow furrows, frustration obvious. “Anything, Y/N.”
Behind the counter, the barista fills a tea kettle to set this on the stove. You watch it instead of Jungkook, unsure how you’re going to do this again. The pressure of the water boiling is near tangible, mimicking the internal state of your mind.
Biting your tongue, you decide a safe exit is best. Jungkook will get the hint without you being forced to break his heart. Counting backwards from ten, you exhale and attempt to walk past.
“I’m sorry you came all this way,” you say in a murmur.
You’re nearly past Jungkook when you hear a soft swear. Only one more step happens before his hand grips your elbow.
“Y/N, please,” Jungkook breathes, turning you towards him.
Your gaze lifts and you start at his obvious pain. Staring back, Jungkook searches your face for something unspoken. Whatever he seeks, he must find it, since determination enters his.
You tear your gaze away. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jungkook.”
“I want to know if you were serious about breaking up.”
He’s still holding your elbow.
You must notice this at the same time, but neither of you move. Your gaze returns to his, drawn like a magnet and you realize your mistake when you can’t look away. Romeo’s line about Julie being the sun comes to mind, making sudden sense. You orbit around Jungkook, whether you like it or not.
In the background, a tea kettle whistles. “I meant what I said, Jungkook,” you say, forcing yourself to speak first. “I’m not good for you.”
A muscle in his jaw feathers. “But why,” he demands, frustration seeping through. You can hear in his voice the long nights of desperation, of little sleep in your absence. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Y/N. What did I do?”
A chasm in your chest opens, hating how easily he jumps to self-doubt. Before you can think better of it, you move closer.
“Nothing,” you say, one hand on his arm. “You did nothing wrong, Jungkook. I’m just not in a place where I can be in a relationship.”
“But why not?” His gaze sharpens. “Everything was fine between us until Sunday.”
“Everything was not fine.”
Jungkook pauses, then barrels on. “When you say you can’t be in a relationship… what you’re really saying is you can’t be in a relationship with me.”
“With anyone,” you correct, although you aren’t sure that’s the truth.
Your magic has never been this temperamental. Possibly because this is the first time you’ve fallen in love. Dating someone not Jungkook would be safer, but the thought is abhorrent.
If you can’t have Jungkook, you don’t want anyone. That will be your punishment. Jungkook will move on, fall in love, and be happy with another person. Not you. No one else will compare, and if you can’t now, you doubt you’ll move past this crippling fear.
“You keep telling me that,” Jungkook says, growing heated. “But I’m the one you’re breaking up with, so it’s a little bit about me. You need to give me something, Y/N. Is this about your past? I know you don’t like to talk about your childhood, but I want to know.”
A loud buzzing fills your ears, gaze darting around. You haven’t told Jungkook much about your family, not wanting to invite questions about being an Elemental. The thought of him guessing sparks panic again, and the tea kettle on the stove whistles louder.
“People in my past hurt me,” you say in a rush. Magic itches beneath your skin, begging for escape. “That’s part of it, but not all.”
“What’s all, then?”
Frustration seeps past the wall, and several things happen. Your magic lashes out, a loud noise makes you jump, and the tea kettle shatters while hitting the floor. Water sloshes across the tile, steam hissing as the barista jumps back with a yelp.
Startled, you whirl around. One barista turns off the stove, another grabs a towel while a third finds a broom. Luckily, none of them seem injured – the tea kettle missed their skin. Taking a half-step towards them, you force yourself to stop. Although you want to help, that might make you seem guilty.
Already, the guilt within you is rising. You felt your magic overpowering you and chose to stay. If a barista had been hurt, it would’ve been your fault.
Turning back, you find Jungkook staring at the mess. He looks similarly shocked, twisting the knife in your gut. If he knew you caused this, he’d look at you that differently.
“You see?” you blurt, and he glances in your direction. “Everyone around me gets hurt. I can’t hurt you, too, Jungkook.”
Shoving open the door, you’re halfway outside when his words reach your ears.
“That’s the thing, Y/N,” he says softly. “You already have.”
The door shuts behind you, and you almost make it home before starting to cry. The skies open again above the city.
“This can’t be a coincidence,” you mutter, staring through the window.
The slightly dilapidated Ramen-rama tables stare back at you until the owner walks past. Catching you standing there, he motions you on.
Somewhat chagrined, you trudge down the sidewalk. Reaching a playground two blocks away, you collapse on a bench and attempt to be rational. Four different interviews. Spread across two different days. Each one ending the exact same.
One crappy interview, even two, and you’d understand. But four crappy interviews in the same way? Something weird is happening. Each interview, you arrived, greeted the owner, answered a few questions, and were thus informed the position was filled.
It wasn’t that you hadn’t gotten a job. It was that your interviewers seemed nervous, staring hard at your resume and never your face. They seemed relieved when you left, as though you were liable to break something for fun.
“Hey. Did you interview this morning at Ramen-rama?”
Startled, you turn and find a stranger beside you.
You don’t recognize him; certainly you’d remember if you met before. Dressed in a Ramen-rama t-shirt, his dark hair is gathered in a bun on his head. His hair makes your chest ache, since Jungkook used to wear his like that.
“Um, yeah,” you say, yanking yourself from your daydreams.
He smiles and nods. “I thought that was you. Listen – I overheard the manager talking this morning on the phone while I was unloading the truck. I think he was talking about you, so I thought I should tell you what I overheard.”
Concerned, you straighten. “Uh, okay. What was he saying?”
“He was talking to your old boss – Pierre? Apparently, he’s calling around and warning people not to hire you. Said that you stole from him, or something. Not sure if it’s the same story for everyone, or if he’s making up shit up in the moment.”
Your jaw nearly drops. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” The guy’s smile turns wry. “I’m assuming none of it’s true. You don’t look like the thieving type, but the boss is running a business, I guess. Can’t be too careful.”
“Right.” You pause, then shake your head. “I didn’t steal, just so you know. A guest was an ass to me, so I dumped water on him – on accident,” you add.
Laughing loudly, the guy clutches his bicycle. “Wow, I’d love to hear that story. Especially the part about it being an accident,” he adds with a wink, sticking out his hand. “I’m Wooyoung.”
“Y/N,” you say as you shake. “So. Pierre is calling people?”
Brow furrowed, Wooyoung pulls back. “Yeah. Sorry I had to tell you like this. Wasn’t sure whether you’d want to know, but figured I should.”
You push yourself to stand. “I do appreciate it. Thanks for telling me.”
“No problem.” Sheepish, he glances down the road. “I should actually get back if I don’t want to lose my job. Delivery,” he explains, nodding towards his bike. “Need the extra income.”
“Makes sense,” you say, forcing a smile. “Good luck.”
Wooyoung nods, then pauses in a way that feels familiar. He’s checking you out, you realize after a moment. Although flattering, it’s instantly followed by a rush of guilt. Wooyoung is cute and in another life, you’d say yes, but in every life, it’s hard not to want Jungkook.
Waving goodbye, Wooyoung climbs onto his bike and takes off. You head in the opposite direction, needing to put distance between you and Ramen-rama. If Pierre is shit-talking you across town, you’ll be hard-pressed to find another job at a restaurant. Owners are notoriously clicky and for how many restaurants there are, there are surprisingly few out of the loop.
Maybe you can ask the coffee shop if they’re hiring. Although you should probably avoid work with water for a bit. This drops your mood, your thoughts turning desperate. You’re so deep in an anxiety spiral, you nearly run into an open door on the sidewalk.
Jerking upright, you stare at faded, golden letters. Creative Courage is spelled in looping cursive over a frosted window. Art supplies fill a display case, while the other is clustered with art of all kinds. You spot sculpture, pottery, painting, and sketches before losing count.
Before you can chicken out, you push open the door.
Stepping in, tiny bells chime to announce your arrival. Soft, ambient light fills the space – a shop that’s two-fold, you realize now that you’re inside. The front sells art supplies while in the back stands a classroom. There’s a class in session now, several artists seated on stools before easels.
“Can I help you?” someone asks, stepping into your path.
Blinking, you focus. “Um, no – thank you! I was just looking.”
“Of course!” The woman beams, reaching up to arrange a clip in magenta hair. “That’s what we’re here for. If you do change your mind, let me know – we’ve got art supplies out front, and classes are held daily in back.”
“Classes?”
“Mhm.” Crossing her arms, the woman nods. “Mostly still life and figure drawing, but we’re hoping to add some more soon. Are you an artist?” she asks, sounding hopeful.
Immediately, you stiffen. “No. At least, not right now.”
Her lips twitch. “Not sure it works like that, unfortunately. Who you are can’t come on and off like a jacket. I like that, though,” she admits with a laugh. “Might borrow it the next time the muses aren’t singing.”
You can’t help but grin. “Exactly.”
Her head tilts, surveying you with unnerving intensity. “My name is Taryn. I co-own this place with my partner, Micah. They’re the one teaching right now.”
“Oh,” you say, somewhat wistful. “That’s nice.”
“Thanks.” Her smile widens. “So, what was your preferred medium? You know, ‘back when’ you were an artist.”
You can’t help but laugh when Taryn lifts her hands to use air quotes. Some people have a way of making you feel included in their jokes, and Taryn is one of them. She teases you in a conspiratorial way, letting you know she understands. People often call art a labor of love, which can be true but more often, it’s a complicated tangle of love, pain and frustration.
“Watercolors,” you admit. “And my name is Y/N.”
Her eyes brighten. “We’ve been meaning to add a watercolor class for ages. Some of our regulars have asked, but Micah and I are both hopeless. Potter,” she explains, gesturing at herself. “And Micah prefers charcoal. Sometimes sculpture.”
“Wow,” you say. “Those are very different.”
“You don’t say.” Taryn laughs. “Micah likes to keep things fresh. What about you? Have you ever taught be– hang on,” she blurts, her eyes going wide. “Did you say that your name is Y/N? As in Y/N Y/L/N?”
Your cheeks heat. “Yeah, that’s me.”
Whirling, Taryn hustles through the front room to duck behind a counter. Digging through several drawers, she pulls out a print to hurry back.
“Is this you?” she demands, thrusting this in your face.
Even cross-eyed and close, you recognize your most popular work. A watercolor series on the majesty and destruction of sea storms. Looking at this makes you feel raw, and so you look up.
“Yep,” you admit. “That’s me.”
Pulling back, Taryn looks at the print reverently. “You’re amazing. Micah was trying to do something similar but couldn’t capture the right feeling.”
Shuffling awkwardly, you shrug. You’ve never felt as though your work deserved acclaim, although it’s nice to know the series resonated with others. One of your favorite aspects of art is how it can be intensely personal but once shared, takes on a universal quality. You find it constantly surprising; how many people seem to share the same burdens.
“Seriously.” Taryn shakes her head wryly. “If you ever wanted to teach a class, let me know. We’d be lucky to have you here.”
“Thank you,” you say, stuffing both hands in your pockets.
You hadn’t realized your desperation was obvious. Or possibly Taryn is just incredibly good at reading others. Truthfully, it’s been a while since you stepped foot in the art world. Even before dating Jungkook, you felt your passion lagging. It’s been a long time since you wanted to connect with your inner voice, although merely the act of being here calls the tide in your blood.
Dangerous.
Recognizing this, you reinforce an inner wall. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I’m not really looking for something right now.”
Taryn nods. “Sure. If things change though, just let me know – before next week,” she adds. “We try to publish our class schedule on the first of each month.”
“Will do. Thanks, again.”
“Anytime!” Beaming, Taryn spins to restock the next shelf.
Realizing your conversation is finished, you continue down the next aisle. The shop’s materials are superb, and your fingers are itching to reach out and touch. Reaching the front, you notice a quote painted over the register: Creativity takes courage – Henry Matisse.
You stare at this for a while, unsure why it hurts. Courage isn’t something you’ve thought about in a long time. When you were younger, you pushed people away because it was safe, but now you find yourself wondering who was that for – others? Or yourself?
Maybe the reason you keep yourself separate is because you are afraid people might leave you. Like Katrina. Or Elliot. Or even your dad.
Suppressing magic was hard at the start. Everything about it felt counter-intuitive but you reasoned doing the right thing often took effort. This is what you told yourself, anyways. It made said effort more bearable.
When you first began painting, the relief you felt was immense. After so long spent ignoring your emotions, you found a space to be free. Your series about the sea was oddly therapeutic, working through complicated emotions; your love for the ocean, coupled with fear of its wild beauty. Similar clashes within yourself about magic. And always, always, the desire for more.
For a few hours though, those feelings could be a part of you. Magic could be a part of you, so long as you remained in control – and with brush in hand, you were.
Only now does it occur to you that maybe, this wasn’t healthy. Maybe you shouldn’t feel the need to compartmentalize, as though certain pieces of yourself can only exist in certain spaces.
Tearing your gaze from the words, you exit the shop and gently shut the door. Pulling your jacket tighter, you head down the sidewalk and let your thoughts drift. Jungkook only saw you paint once, but the memory is hard to forget.
You had just started dating, barely past the stage of calling him ‘boyfriend.’ The constant influx of emotion was difficult to manage, and after a few weeks, you were exhausted. Most of your time spent without Jungkook was seated before your canvas. After one particularly frustrating session, you set down your paint to stubbornly stare at the canvas.
A throat cleared from behind.
Startled, you spun and found Jungkook standing there. His gaze moved quickly to yours, but you realized he’d been staring at your half-finished work. Normally, you felt panic at the thought of someone seeing a work in progress. That night though, the look on Jungkook’s face eased your concerns. Awe; pure and clear.
Yanking down giant, over-ear headphones, you hastily stood.
Jungkook lurched forward. “No!” he blurted, only to halt. “I mean – you don’t have to cover the painting. I liked it.”
He seemed flustered, which made you slightly flustered, but you took a slow step sideways. Eager, Jungkook’s gaze traversed the canvas.
Eventually, he looked back. “Sorry about that,” Jungkook said and walked closer. Warm hands found your waist. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“How did you get in?” you laughed, burying your face in his chest.
“Seokjin.” He paused. “Did he not say I was here? I texted you a half hour ago, but you didn’t respond. I figured I’d stop by, and Seokjin said to come up.”
Softening, you made a mental note to chastise Seokjin later. Tightening your arms, you lifted your head and smiled.
“So.” Jungkook glanced over your shoulder. “This is you.”
This sent a thrill down your spine. He spoke as though he’d known you before, but only on a surface level and now, he understood. Jungkook knew your art was part of you, as much as your heart or your soul. You had often felt the same, but never said so out loud.
Magic swelled, and you pushed it back down, but it was difficult. When Jungkook bent his head, you forgot to be scared and let yourself feel. The brush of his lips. The tightening of his hands. The current within you, swelling against your highest walls.
Loudly, someone knocked on the door. Breathless, you jerked backwards and found Seokjin in the door.
“Hey.” He jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Wanted to let you know our dishwasher broke. Flooded the kitchen.” Pointed, Seokjin looked at you. “Everything is all good, but I’m calling a plumber tomorrow. Carry on.”
In a flurry of embarrassment, you abruptly ended the evening and sent Jungkook home.
Remembering how the night ended, you stifle a groan and walk faster. Once more, you couldn’t control your magic and put Jungkook in danger. Hardly the creative courage Henry Matisse imagined.
You always assumed suppressing your magic was the best choice. But the best choice for who? Certainly not for you, who lives isolated, inert and in fear of yourself. Your dad used to call your magic a gift, but it’s been a long time since you felt that way.
This memory brings with it a sharp stab of pain. Since your dad passed, fear has replaced any joy your magic brought. Fear of falling victim to the same fate he did. Of others’ rejection. Of failing to live up to your father’s example.
You have little doubt that if your dad could see you now, he’d be confused by your actions.
You push others away in the name of saving them. Again, you think of Jungkook and for once you allow it. The entire way home, you wish that he’d call.
He doesn’t though and eventually, you stop hoping.
By Friday, the threads keeping your feelings at bay are nearly worn through. Intrusive thoughts push against fragile bonds, threatening the haven you’ve carefully crafted.
With more force than needed, you toss clothing into the washer. Your usual laundromat was closed, forcing you to walk five blocks to the next one. Sweaty from suddenly sweltering temperatures, your arms sore from the hamper, the situation does nothing to improve an already crappy mood.
Wiping your forehead with one arm, you slam the door and press start. The machine whirs to life, laundry tumbling in a way reminiscent of your inner turmoil. Up, you did the right thing by ending it with Jungkook. He’ll swiftly move on and find someone else. Down – but you don’t want him to find someone else. You want him to find you.
Teeth gritted, you turn and grab your hamper from the floor. Placing this on the washer, you wearily tug your cell phone from your pocket. By the time you walked home, you’d have to come back, leaving you with forty minutes to kill. You could read more of the book you just started. Or submit your resume to a couple of restaurants.
After yesterday’s disaster at Ramen-rama though, the interview process has stalled. Instead, you’ve found yourself thinking more about Creative Courage. For a brief moment, you even walked into the third bedroom to paint.
You immediately walked back out again, but merely the act was more than you’ve done in months. The thought of creation brought mostly panic, since it’d involve you being honest. Something you haven’t been with yourself in a while.
Because if you were honest, you know what you’d find. You would regret breaking up with Jungkook. Maybe even find that, deep down, you want to be selfish. You want to keep dating him, even if Jungkook gets hurt in the end.
After all, you saw what loving an Elemental did to your mom.
Putting down your phone, you scan the laundromat and find your gaze catching on the person in the next aisle.
No. No, no, no – absolutely not.
The universe – or whoever’s writing your story – must be cruel and unusual, since standing beside you is Jungkook. You’d recognize his head anywhere. Straightening from his hamper, Jungkook turns to face you and goes still.
Eyes wide, he seems stunned until someone slams shut their dryer. Both of you jump, breaking eye contact and time seems to reset. Pressing start on his machine, Jungkook grabs his gym bag and hoists it over one shoulder. He strides towards the exit, halfway there when you spring into action.
Dashing towards him, you cut him off at the dryers. Footsteps slowing, Jungkook meets your gaze with visible confusion.
“Sorry,” he says, tugging his gym bag behind him. The thick, grey strap of it cuts across his hoodie. “I was just leaving. I can come back later if you want to finish your load.”
Again, he tries to move past you, but something inside of you snaps. You aren’t sure what possesses you, but somehow, find your hand gripping his sleeve.
Startled, Jungkook stares.
Equally swift, you withdraw. “I, uh…”
Head spinning, all your words seem to fly out the window. Nothing about this was planned. You have no idea what to tell Jungkook besides I’m sorry, and even this would be woefully inadequate without explanation. Which you can’t give.
“You don’t have to leave on my account,” you say at last.
A singular brow lifts. “No? You didn’t seem to think that way on Wednesday.”
You suppress a wince, although you try your best to hide it. “I know,” you admit. “It’s just… this is your usual laundromat. I don’t want you to leave because of me. I wouldn’t even be here, expect the one near me is broken and –”
“Got it,” he interrupts, the words tight. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have to be.”
Swallowing hard, you stare down at your shoes. You know you deserve this, but it’s just so hard to see Jungkook hurting. He deserves to be happy, not wasting his energy on hating you.
“Okay,” you whisper.
Your eyes start to burn, and you squeeze them shut to prevent a reaction. You absolutely cannot cry in front of Jungkook. Not when you’re the one who started this; the very last thing you want him to feel for you is pity.
“Hey.” Something in his tone shifts, and you hear Jungkook step closer. When you open your eyes, he watches you intently. “What’s wrong?”
A tiny fissure within your chest splinters.
Anyone else could have asked those words, and you would have been able to answer. For Jungkook to do so is unthinkable. You’re the one who ruined this. The one who hurt him, who ended this and still, Jungkook is concerned about your well-being.
“I was fired on Sunday,” you say in a rush. “Before I came to see you.”
He blinks only once before his face hardens. “Before you broke up with me, you mean.”
“Yeah,” you whisper.
Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, Jungkook glances away. His expression is taut, and you feel a sharp pang of envy. It’s so easy to read Jungkook. You’ve spent so long hiding your emotions, it strikes you as luxurious how easily he feels.
A muscle in his jaw tics. “Y/N,” Jungkook says, turning back. “What are you doing?”
“What… do you mean?”
Fear spikes your heart, wondering if Jungkook has finally pieced the facts together. Maybe he saw more than you realized at the coffee shop. Maybe he finally knows what you are.
“Why are you… torturing me?” he clarifies, a slight rasp to his voice. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You were fired? That sucks, but it doesn’t make this okay. It doesn’t make us okay,” he adds, gesturing to the air between you.
“I – I know,” you stammer, nearly blurting out something you’ll regret.
Like that you’re an Elemental teetering close to the edge. One who can feel every pipe, every spin cycle within the walls of this laundromat. All of them churning, pulsing, begging for your magic to release the water inside.
“You know?” Jungkook stares at you, incredulous. “Again, Y/N – what do you want from me?”
Since you started talking, you’ve moved several steps closer. Another breath, another reach and you’d be in his arms. Glancing down, you notice how quickly Jungkook’s chest rises and falls.
He’s afraid, you realize. Jungkook’s fear isn’t the same one as yours, though. He isn’t afraid that you’ll see him, but rather that you’ll destroy him.
Realizing this, a barrier within you crumbles. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” you say, somewhat desperate.
“You keep saying that.” Determined, he steps closer and somehow, your hand entwines with his to press against his chest. “You keep saying you don’t want this, but you won’t tell me why. Won’t tell me anything, Y/N – you were fired, and this is the first time I’m hearing it.”
“I couldn’t tell you!” you blurt. “I can’t explain it, Jungkook, but I couldn’t tell you when it happened.”
His gaze sharpens. “Then, yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe we are better off broken up.”
Releasing you, Jungkook brushes past you and heads for the exit. You stare blankly at the wall before you, your whole world caving in as your head starts to spin. Magic seeps beyond your fractured walls, flooding your veins in desperate search for an exit.
“That’s not true,” you protest, spinning around. “I’ve told you more than anyone else in my life, Jungkook. I’ve let you in in ways no one else has.”
Jungkook stiffens at the door, his entire body taut. For a single, long moment, it seems as though he might reconsider but the longer you stand there, the more you watch the fight drain from the lines of his shoulders.
“I don’t doubt that’s true,” he says, hand hovering above the doorknob. “But that’s not the same as letting me in.”
He starts to go.
Everything around you becomes white noise.
When you were ten, you passed a famous dam on one of your cross-country moves. Your mom took you to see it, swinging your hand while entering the viewing platform.
The moment you saw it, you went wholly still. Trillions of gallons of water, trapped behind concrete, constantly pushing but unable to break. It felt like your magic. Raw, untamed power contained by a solid wall. You stared for longer than any other visitor, until your mom pulled your arm and said you should leave.
The entire way to the car, your mom was silent and once you were buckled in, she twisted around to see you. “Listen to me, Y/N,” she said, her voice serious. “That dam will only work if the wall holds. If the wall breaks, do you know what happens?”
Silent, you shook your head.
“The water will flood the whole valley. Everyone in its path, all the forest – they’d be gone. The wall can’t break, or bad things happen. Do you understand me?”
Solemn, you nodded because even then, you understood. Although your magical dam was intangible, it held equal importance. You had to hold in the magic, otherwise bad things would happen. So long as the wall was in place, you were safe.
Now though, you squeeze your eyes tightly as the wall starts to crumble.
Emotions break with the force of a tidal wave, racing ahead and drowning all in its path. Memories you thought were long buried continue to rise, crushing you further. Your walls are destroyed in a matter of seconds.
You remember your dad, kissing you on the head before leaving the house. Katrina’s stricken expression when the door shut in her face. Jungkook, asking you what he’d done wrong again.
Each memory drags you under, and you shudder against the onslaught. It takes everything you have to remain standing while your restraint dissolves.
Hands grip your arms.
Surprised, your eyes fly open to find Jungkook before you. His neck muscles strain, yelling to be heard over thundering water. You try your best to focus, to rein your magic back in – only to realize with horror, it might be too late.
The laundromat around you is in chaos. Several ceiling pipes have burst, water crashing down in torrents of water. Already, waves lap at your ankles. Noise filters back in, flickering before solidifying to something substantial.
People are screaming, abandoning their hampers in an attempt to get out. The door has stuck though, unable to open under the onslaught of water. Jungkook yells again, and this time you hear him.
“Are you okay?” he bellows, close to your face.
You stare upward, stupefied. Another pipe bursts, and you think that was you, but it’s hard to be sure. Hard to understand which parts are in control and which parts are not. What particular emotion is holding the reins at any moment.
Determination replaces fear in his face, and Jungkook bends before you have time to blink. In an instant, you’re tossed over his shoulder. A yelp escapes, upside-down but he’s already wading through the aisle of washers.
Jungkook shouts at people to move, but no one is listening. After a moment, you feel him exhale and surge forward. Although you can’t see, the people seem to be moving, so Jungkook must appear confident.
Grasping the door, he pulls on it, hard. Nothing happens. Exhaling, Jungkook grips your waist tighter and mutters, “Hold on.”
You don’t have time to ask why, since he yanks harder and the entire frame shudders. Jungkook does this again and another pipe bursts, drawing your gaze. By the time you look back, the door has budged an inch and water is pouring out. With a final wrench, Jungkook yanks open the door.
People shove past him, rushing into the street with the tide of water. Spinning around, Jungkook shields you with his frame from the wet crush of bodies. His grip never wavers, feet anchored to the ground as though they’ve rocks themselves.
With each breath, your pulse slows until finally, you locate the faint threads of magic. Before, you felt too much at once. The crush was overwhelming but now, you manage to breach the surface. For the first time, you see your panic influencing the tide.
Realizing this, you reach inward and try to – turn. With great effort, you identify the source of your power and disconnect. Water in the ceiling slows to a trickle, and then, nothing.
Exhaling against your neck, Jungkook’s hand moves lower.
You can’t help but shiver. “Jungkook?” you murmur into his shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Could you… you know, set me down?”
“Oh.”
Somewhat sheepish, Jungkook lowers you to face him. He doesn’t step away, and neither do you. If this is the last time you see him, you want to be selfish and make it as long as possible.
He stares back at you, waterdrops caught between his lashes. In the background, water continues to drip from a pipe. The soft plink-plink echoes the thud of your heart.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Jungkook’s hands remain on your waist, his touch scrambling all semblance of sanity. You aren’t sure how to answer without being honest.
Truthfully, you’re not okay.
An okay person wouldn’t break up with their boyfriend and then, six days later throw themselves in their path. An okay person wouldn’t be hiding their magic, they wouldn’t be lying to the person they love and most of all, wouldn’t continue to place that same person in danger.
Silent, you survey the aftermath of your outburst. Deep down, your magic itches in response to your panic. Seeping outward, it seeks to mold to the fear, but you manage to stop it. Something about the wall being gone makes your power less alien. No longer an unknown variable, but a constant.
“No,” you exhale. Steeling yourself, you take a step backwards. “No, Jungkook, I’m not okay. I… this is exactly why you should stay away from me. Bad things happen, and I can’t control them. I’m so sorry.”
Again, you brace yourself for his anger, but it never comes. Jungkook is unusually quiet, head cocked to one side. He sees right through you, a sensation unnerving enough that you drop your gaze.
“I should go,” you repeat, stepping around him. Reaching your washer, you hastily unload your soggy clothing. “I have to go.”
Jungkook says nothing, although you feel his gaze on the back of your head. Hefting your hamper, you slam the door shut, and turn. The water level at your ankles has dropped, no more than a centimeter remaining in the room.
Sirens wail in the distance, likely on their way to investigate. Your stomach lurches, recognizing the cost of your magic. As soon as possible, you should reach out to Seokjin. His company might be able to cover the damage if the laundromat can’t.
Nearing the exit, you look anywhere but at Jungkook’s face. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, unsure what else to say. “Really, I am.”
Again, he lets you move past. Water rushes out when you open the door, seeking the street, then the gutter. Hurrying past, you can’t shake the feeling something has changed.
Not only with you and Jungkook, but with you and your magic. Silent, you prod the place deep within from which your magic stems. You’re used to a wall, feeling closed off but now, it seems your mom was right.
Once shattered, the dam can’t be rebuilt.
A weightlessness accompanies this that you didn’t anticipate. Despite the terror of your outburst, there was a moment near the end when you stopped it. When you felt what was wrong and controlled your outburst of magic. You haven’t done that before.
The thought is followed by regret, remembering Jungkook. When you broke up, it was supposed to save him. Instead, you’ve only put him – and yourself – in greater danger. Maybe because you’ve continued to see him. Everything would be fine if you moved or kept your distance.
But then, another part of you wonders if you were wrong from the start. Maybe instead of providing distance, you should have come closer. Should have allowed Jungkook to decide whether he wanted to stay. After all, today, he experienced the worst of your powers, and he didn’t run. If anything, he moved closer.
Suddenly exhausted, you hail a cab. The driver grumbles at your wet clothes but allows you inside, and you tip him extra upon reaching your place. What you should do is find another laundromat and finish your load, but there’s an itch in your fingers you haven’t felt in some time.
Dropping your hamper at the door, you shutter yourself within the third bedroom. Not allowing yourself to second-guess, you sit down at your easel and pick up a brush.
For the first time in a long time, you allow the magic to flow. You paint.
summary: one drunken night leads to an agreement that if you and jungkook are still single by 30, you'd marry each other. the only thing is jungkook has been doing everything he can to keep you single.
💖 title: the back-up plan | one-shot
💖 pairing: jungkook x f!reader | 💖 genre/au: romance, fluff / friends to lovers(?)
💖 rating: SFW | 18+ | 💖 word count: 18.1k | 💖 playlist
💖 warnings: jungkook & reader are both 29, reader is a hopeless romantic (what else is new with my characters?), jungkook is always pining and head over heels in love, jungkook is sweet and in luvrrr but he’s bad at feelings and tells some terrible lies (don’t hate him—ok!!), reader has a skewed view of relationships and what's expected of her, jungkook calls her wifey, hot and seggsy neighbor!namjoon (yes, pls), shirtless namjoon (2x), kissing, hand-holding, some suggestive language, mentions of erotic art and positions, first dates, alcohol consumption, reader has her belly button pierced, talks of tattoos & getting them, mentions of needles, and idk some things may come off as cheesy??? but it's a romance story so idk take what you will, light angst (you should know me by now!!), jungkook gets a lil drunk (pls drink responsibly), jealous jk comes out, love confessions
💖 a/n: the plot is a bit ridiculous, but that's the point! it's fiction (lol), i hope y'all enjoy it for what it is. the idea came from a tweet I saw, but ofc, I can't find it! so thank you to whoever tweeted it! and, happy birthday to the loml, jeon jungkook (this was supposed to be out for his birthday, but my brain said no). i also have to thank holly (@alphabetboyluvr). i respect her so much as a writer, and I was super scared to ask her to even look at my outline, but she's always so sweet and willing. i couldn't have done this without her help, her comments, and suggestions <3 (i'd also recommend listening to the playlist while reading :)) and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts 💖
sunday.
Another day has passed, and it’s creeping closer to your birthday. They’re supposed to be joyous, celebratory occasions–and you love feeling special, showered with love and gifts. What more could a person want?
But you had a clear goal before hitting the big 3-0: get married–or at least be engaged to be married.
Most girlfriends your age were still having fun, enjoying life, and not ready to settle down. You’re unsure if your upbringing or society’s expectations distorted you, but you were fond of marriage and finding the one to spend your life with.
You also blamed the hopeless romantic in you when you dragged every one of your girlfriends with you to see the new romantic comedy, giggled, and kicked your feet when reading the latest best-selling romance novel.
The thing was, you were so close to getting engaged. You and your boyfriend, Theo, of eight months–well, ex-boyfriend–discussed it openly from the beginning of your relationship. And not even two weeks ago, he broke up with you out of the blue and gave no clear explanation.
You sat in bed debating whether to download your old dating apps again. Your birthday was in six days, and you knew you wouldn’t find a suitable mate before your birthday, but at least you could try, right?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:28 PM
Are you still crying over Theodore Boner?
You 11:29 PM
It’s Bonner, not boner!
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:29 PM
🤣🤣🤣
You were saved from that one. Imagine having the last name Boner.
You rolled your eyes at the text from Jungkook, throwing your phone beside you as you curled under your duvet.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo
Incoming Video Call
“What do you want, Kook?”
“You gotta admit, ____ Boner sounds awful,” Jungkook laughed as he pushed back in his recliner.
“I’m hanging up!” you threatened, getting ready to push the end button.
"No, no! I'm kidding. You would've made a great Mrs. Boner."
"Bye–Kook."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm done, I promise."
"I had a whole plan. What am I supposed to do now? My birthday is in six days," you groaned, covering your face with the duvet.
"You don't remember our agreement, do you?"
You brought the cover down. Curious about his comment. "What agreement?"
💖💖💖
Before this most recent one, your ex, Jimin, had broken up with you, and you were on the rebound, looking for a good time. Jungkook came to the rescue, saving you from your next mistake. He took you out for drinks, let you drown in your sorrows, and the two of you got pretty drunk. You could only remember bits and pieces of your conversation.
“Let’s get married if we’re still single by 30,” Jungkook suggests.
“You wanna marry me? But I’m such a mess.”
Your dating life, career, friends, and family were fine.
“Yeah, why not. We get along. You seem a little kinky in bed and make a mean spaghetti dish.”
“Is that all I’m good for? Sex and spaghetti?”
“That sounds like a bad porn film waiting to happen. No, but I'm serious. If we're still single, let’s get married.”
You wave him off. “Kook, you’re drunk. You’re just saying whatever.”
“Yeah, I'm drunk, but I'm serious about this.”
He gets up, looks around, sees a straw wrapper, and ties it around your finger. He's on one knee before you.
“____, will you marry me? Hypothetically, of course, if we’re both still single by 30.”
You shake your head at your loveable friend. It was hard to say no. How could you?
“You’re so dumb.”
“See. You can write that in your vows,” Jungkook jokes, grinning from ear to ear.
“Well, you are pretty cute, and I can stand being around you,” you tease.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
You smack his arm. “Is this how you’re wooing your future wife?”
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I can’t believe how beautiful my future wife is.”
You’re unsure if it’s the alcohol making you susceptible and vulnerable to your good friend asking you to marry him or if it was because you were on the rebound. But what’s the harm? If you couldn’t find someone by 30, then you’d get to marry a good friend.
“That's more like it. Why yes, Jeon Jungkook. I will marry you if I'm still single by 30.”
💖💖💖
You let out a cackle. “Oh shit–I agreed to that?”
Jungkook pouts and nods. “Sure did.”
But Jungkook’s messing around, right? He was a good friend and comforted you in your time of need. There’s no way he’d want to spend the rest of his life with you. Plenty of suitable women were fawning over him, and now you’ve noticed you've never seen him with a girlfriend.
“You’re–you’re not serious, are you?” You stumble over your words, going into panic mode.
Why would Jeon Jungkook choose you, of all people, to want to marry? He could have anyone at any time.
No, you shook off the thought. You couldn’t lock him into a loveless marriage.
Jungkook licks his lips, tongue flicking his lip ring back and forth.
You shifted in bed and cleared your throat. “Aren’t you seeing that one girl?”
It wasn’t hard to notice when she practically hung onto him like a lovesick puppy.
Jungkook makes a face, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s nothing serious.”
You give him a blank expression. “Nothing serious? Kook, she’s practically foaming at the mouth and shooting heart eyes when you’re around.”
Jungkook chuckles. “That could be you, too.”
You narrow your eyes, glaring at him.
“Just saying,” he adds.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to get in the way if it is serious.” You surely didn’t want to become a homewrecker.
He waves his hand. “Oh, no, no, no. I don’t back down from promises I make.”
Your lips turn into a pout, and you tilt your head, wondering why he’d ditch Clingy Chloe and commit to a drunken promise. “What’s in it for you?”
He seems offended by your question, so he scoffs. “I mean, I’m just trying to save you from a future where you’re an old lady with 50 cats, collecting newspapers that pile up from the floor to the ceiling, and then you show up on an episode of Hoarders.”
You chuckle. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“You’re not?” he questions hesitantly.
“I mean, marriage is a pretty serious thing, and we’re friends getting married because we have no one else?” The sentiment seems ridiculous once you say it aloud.
“What? You don’t think I'll be a good husband?”
“No, I didn't say that. I think you’d be a great one, actually.”
“Then, what’s the problem? Don’t think you can handle me?” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows.
You roll your eyes at your cocky friend. “I don’t know, Kook. What if I meet someone, or what if you meet someone?”
“You don’t think I can make you fall in love with me?” he asks, ignoring your question.
Your nose scrunches, and you laugh. “No.”
“Oh, well, that sounds like a challenge, and you’re lucky I love a little competition.”
He’s not going to let this go, is he?
You settle into the plush of your pillows. “Okay–tell you what, if you can make me fall in love with you within the week, I’ll consider marrying you.”
What would you have to lose? Being wined and dined by a cute guy? What girl would pass up this opportunity?
“Deal.”
💖💖💖
monday.
Your everyday routine consists of rolling out of bed, logging into work, checking your emails, and then sitting on the couch until you get a support ticket from someone who forgot their password for the umpteenth time.
It’s a great gig, and now you’re glad you went into the right field of work.
You’re on your random binge of rewatching The Fast and the Furious saga. Your friends always make fun of you, but you can’t help it. It’s a guilty pleasure of yours.
“You got some sexy legs. When do they open?” Roman says with a grin.
You burst out laughing. The dialogue is so bad, yet somehow, these movies keep getting made. You must be the target audience.
The doorbell rings and it’s 8:30 AM. Who is here this early? You didn’t buy anything online while you were drunk, did you?
You peek through the viewfinder, and it’s blocked by something yellow. You can’t see the delivery person’s face when you open the door.
“Special delivery for ___,” the person says in a deep voice.
“That’s me.”
And out from behind the flowers, Jeon Jungkook pops out. “Happy birthday week,” he says in a sing-song voice.
Your heart settles when you realize it's your friend or future husband. “What are you doing here?”
You notice two grocery bags on the ground next to him. He hands you the flowers and picks them up.
“What do you think I’m doing here?” He raises his eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe.
Real clothes and makeup don’t exist when you're working from home.
“Cute slippers,” he points out as you stare at your fluffy white bunny slippers.
You sigh, grabbing his arm to drag him into your apartment. As you’re about to close the door, you notice moving boxes outside the apartment next to yours. Hmm, someone new must be moving in.
“Is this what you look like underneath all that makeup?” he asks, making himself comfortable in your kitchen. The two bags are on the counter, and he’s going through the cupboards to find a vase.
“Top left above the sink,” you say.
He opens the cupboard, retrieving a clear vase.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting company. Otherwise, I would’ve put on some decent clothing.”
And a bra, you think as you cross your arms, covering your chest.
Jungkook shakes his head. “You look good in anything, and with or without makeup. You’ll be my future wifey, so there’s no need to look for good me. We can just be comfortable with each other, right?”
You purse your lips and raise an eyebrow. He’s serious about this, isn’t he? You suppose you wouldn’t mind playing along to see how far he would go.
A man ready and willing to commit to marriage? You must be living in your romantic film.
You nod. “Right, we’re friends, possibly moving onto more than friends–well, actually, straight to marriage,” you chuckle, "but I’ve always felt comfortable around you, Kook.”
He flashes a warm smile. “Good, then everything will be easy, peasy lemon squeezy.”
He’s cute, you think.
“I hope you like mimosas,” he says as he unloads the groceries from the bags.
Bread, eggs, bacon, strawberries, orange juice, and champagne.
“Are you making me breakfast?” you question, narrowing your eyes at the man in the yellow beanie and white Nike shirt.
“Consider it your birthday breakfast, wifey,” he jokes, peering in your cupboards for a pan.
“Right side next to the oven.”
“Ah, I gotta remember this if I’m gonna be cooking here more often.” He whistles, setting the pan on the stove.
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Don’t you have to work today?”
“Nah–called in sick. It’s my wife’s birthday week. I have to shower her with all the love.” He wiggles his eyebrows and puckers his lips.
It’s funny to see Jeon Jungkook act this way. He’s always been playful and flirty the two years you’ve known him, but this must’ve been his way of pulling out all his cards of wooing a woman.
💖💖💖
“Breakfast is ready,” Jungkook yells from the kitchen.
A support ticket from work came through, distracting you from your movie and Jungkook.
“‘Kay! Almost done.” You recheck your work emails, ensuring everything is complete.
This time, you put on a bra, change into a decent shirt, and put on a skin tint and blush to make yourself look alive.
You stroll into the kitchen, and Jungkook perfectly displays the sunflowers on the counter and two delicious breakfast plates. The champagne flutes are filled to the brim and topped off with a beautifully sliced strawberry.
“Thanks, Kook. This looks so yummy.”
He flashes a smile. “Anytime.”
The two of you sit beside each other, digging into the breakfast spread.
“What’s that one movie you wanted to watch again?” Jungkook asks before he sips his mimosa.
Your mouth is full, and you chew quickly to answer him. “The one on Netflix?” He hums. “Wedding Season.”
“Sounds like the perfect movie for us to watch this week.”
“You’re into rom-coms?”
“I love ‘em.”
“Shut up. You’re teasing me now.”
“I don’t know why you never ask me to watch them, but you’ll ask the girls.”
You look down at your food before catching his gaze. “I didn’t think you’d be into them, so I never asked. And you don’t seem like the hopeless romantic type.”
“I mean, growing up, I wasn’t. My parents didn’t have a fairytale romance, so I didn’t believe in love for a long time.”
You raise an eyebrow. “So, someone must’ve changed your mind then?”
He hums, not wanting to admit who made it an exception.
You nudge his arm. “Are you gonna tell me, or will I have to pry it out of you?”
He chuckles, not saying a word.
You scoff. “You’re not gonna tell me? Keeping secrets from your wife already? Rude,” you tut.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies.
The two of you finish breakfast, and Jungkook insists on doing the dishes. You set your plate in the sink and clutch onto his arm, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.”
💖💖💖
tuesday.
You take the morning off to run errands for your upcoming birthday extravaganza. And you’re struggling to hit the lock button on your keypad while holding a heavy box of birthday decor.
When you finally hear the whirring of the lock and chime, you turn around, bumping into someone, dropping your box, and knocking over a handful of books.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” you say, quickly picking up as many books as possible, and he picks up your birthday decor.
The man reaches for the pink heart-shaped sunglasses and other pink-colored decor. “Someone must be celebrating big,” the man’s dimpled smile displayed.
Your fingers accidentally touch his when you switch his books for your decor. You clear your throat, trying not to ogle the man. “Um, yeah, it’s for my birthday.”
He perks up. “Oh?” He flashes a thin smile. “Happy birthday.”
A breath gets caught in your throat, and you struggle to get any words out. “Uh, my birthday is actually on Saturday,” you finally croak out. “But, you must be my new neighbor.”
“Yeah, I’m Namjoon. I just moved in this past weekend.”
Oh, this is bad. Really bad.
He’s tall, has beautiful tanned skin and blonde hair, and you could live in his dimples.
“It’s–it’s nice to meet you.”
“Sorry about bumping into you, and it’s nice to meet you too. I hope you have a good birthday,” he says before picking up one last book on the ground.
“Are you doing anything this weekend? You can come if you want.”
After you ask, you want to kick yourself in the bum. Inviting a man you just met. What if he’s a weirdo? But how can he be if he’s reading ‘A Bigger Message Conversations with David Hockney.’ You may have managed to peek at one of his books.
“Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding! I’m inviting you, and you can’t say no to the birthday girl,” you tease, adjusting the box in your arms.
A low chuckle escaped his lips. “You’re right. It’d be messed up to say no to the birthday girl.”
“So, you’ll come?” you ask, and a smile grows from ear to ear.
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
The two of you exchange information before you leave to finish your errands. You’re beaming down the street while carrying your box of decor.
You didn’t expect to find someone cute and endearing so quickly. And you’re surprised he said yes to your party. Maybe he’s new in town and wants to make friends. It would be a good way for him to get acquainted, and a part of you hoped you’d keep bumping into him in the halls.
💖💖💖
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:27 AM
Wanna do a movie night today?
We could watch Wedding Season.
You 11:30 AM
Sounds like a date.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:35 AM
Is 6 okay? I can bring dinner too.
You 11:36 AM
That sounds perfect.
It's six on the dot, and you hear a knock on your door. You suppose Jungkook is the type to show up right on time, which you greatly appreciate.
He holds a six-pack of beer and a pizza box when you open the door.
"Ready for movie night?"
It’s halfway through the film, and you’re enjoying it. You love the fake dating trope because you could always count on the two mains to fall for each other.
"Are you cold?" Jungkook asks when he sees you tuck your hands in between your thighs.
"Yeah, kind of."
"Come here."
He opens his arm to cuddle, and you blink expressionless at him. The most intimate thing you’ve done with him is hug him–a side hug.
He laughs when you don’t move. “What? Scared I’ll bite?”
“No—it’s just that cuddling is an intimate thing to do,” you admit.
Arms and legs become entangled. Bodies are warming up against each other. Possibilities of things progressing.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Do you have a throw blanket somewhere?” He looks around and sees a woven basket next to the couch. He grabs a white fluffy throw for you.
Jungkook gives you an out, and for that, you’re grateful.
“Thanks,” you say as you snuggle in the blanket.
He flashes a small smile. “No problem.”
Even though you rejected Jungkook’s invitation to cuddle, somehow, by the end of the movie, the two of you had fallen asleep—cuddling.
You didn’t pull away from him yet. You peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall. Light snores escape his lips, and now and again, he puffs out a breath like a whale coming up for air, making you chuckle.
You rest your chin on his chest, giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this before waking him up.
“Kook,” you whisper, gently shaking him. “Kook,” you repeat.
He hums, popping his head up while his eyes are still closed. He flutters them open and immediately sits up, wiping the drool that’s dried on his chin. He clears his throat. “Um—how long was I asleep for?”
You giggle. “We both fell asleep. I blame the beer,” you say, stretching your arms.
Jungkook can’t help but notice the shiny piece of jewelry hanging from your navel. “You have your belly button pierced?” he asks with a raised brow.
You quickly pull down your shirt. “It was a dumb thing I did when I turned 21.”
“It’s cute.”
You shy away from his comment. At times, you forget you have it.
“What else are you hiding, hm?” Jungkook asks.
You scoff. “Nothing. I only have my ears and my belly button pierced.”
“No tattoos?”
Tattoos are cool on other people, and you toyed with the idea of getting one. You were indecisive about what to get.
You shook your head no. “Maybe one day.”
“Get one for your 30th. I’ll go with you. I know a guy,” he teases, pointing out the ink on his skin.
“You gonna hold my hand the entire time?”
He grins. “Anything for the wifey.”
A tattoo, huh? You’ve always wanted to see how high your pain threshold was. “I’ll think about it.”
“Just let me know, and I’ll get an appointment with the guy I always go to. I only trust him.”
Jungkook stands, proceeding to clean up the mess you two made.
“Oh, no. Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s late. We should get some sleep.”
He looks at the clock. It’s nearly midnight, and he still needs to wash up.
You walk him to the door, holding it open for him to leave. “Kook?”
Jungkook turns to you. “Yeah?”
You’re unsure what comes over you, but you pull him in for a hug. Only this time, it doesn’t feel like a friendly hug. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, then he wraps his arms around you. Every ounce of his body presses against yours, and you fit perfectly into him like a puzzle piece. His fresh, clean scent invades your nose, and you wish it could linger for a bit longer while his hand snakes to the nape of your neck, fingers curling in your hair.
Why do you feel more vulnerable when sleeping next to him now than earlier? Is it because you’re awake and aware of your intentions? The question was, what were your intentions? Did you want this? Did you really want him?
You withdrew from the embrace, bidding him farewell. He gives a small wave before disappearing into the elevator.
As you enter your apartment and shut the door, you repeatedly knocked the back of your head against it, muttering, ‘fuck.’ You were playing along to see how far Jungkook would go before calling it quits, but you failed to see that maybe—just maybe you could be falling too.
Hoseok’s minding his business, eating his ramen when he sees his roommate walk in. Jungkook looks like he’s floating on cloud nine, beaming from ear to ear. There’s even a hop in his step. He twirls around, daintily sitting beside Hoseok.
Hoseok scans his friend, watching him as he breathes a happy sigh and stares into the distance.
“What’s going on with you?” He raises a brow and narrows his eyes.
Jungkook giggles and scrunches his shoulders. “I just came back from cuddling with ___,” he says as he continues in his reveries.
“Oh, boy. Everyone, can I please have your attention,” Hoseok cups his mouth into a megaphone, “Jeon Jungkook has officially gone off the deep end. He thinks being delulu is the solulu.”
Jungkook glares at his friend and kicks him under the table. “Yah–aren’t you supposed to be rooting for me?”
Hoseok slurps his noodles. “Of course, I’m rooting for you. You’re my best bud,” he says as he places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he pats Hoseok’s hand. “Now–be an even better friend, and let me raid your closet for ___’s party.”
Jungkook lies in bed; his bicep flexes when he moves his hand behind his head. He’s watching an array of colors flash across the vastness of his room. The northern lights and stars twirl and sparkle like the movements of butterflies and the ones milling around his stomach for days.
Is this what being in love feels like, he thinks. It’s like he’s living in the romance movies he’s watched. Boy meets girl, boy, and girl fall in love, and they live happily ever after.
This is it. This must be it. His chance to be with you–the one he’s fallen completely head over heels for.
If the Jungkook from four years ago were to see him today, he’d laugh and call him a simp, especially with how he’s at your beck and call.
But the Jungkook, from four years ago, was a cynic. He had no healthy or loving relationships around him until he met you through Hoseok. And, even though you were with someone at the time, he saw how kind and wonderful you were to your friends and could only imagine the kind of love you’d show toward someone special.
There were only a few more days until your party, and he was determined to make each day count.
wednesday.
Since Monday, Jungkook has surprised you every day with a gift. They were his attempts to make you fall in love with you, along with his random trips to your place.
Today’s gift was a pair of pink seashell earrings. Jungkook tells you he spent hours making it from clay, then baked them in the oven. You shook your head, wondering how he got an idea like this. Nonetheless, it was a sweet gift.
He texted throughout the day, leaving cute words of encouragement or sending TikToks of funny videos he’d find. Maybe this was his love language, taking the time out of his day to let you know he’s thinking about you.
As your day winds down, you’re scrolling through YouTube, and what catches your eye at 7 p.m.? Dessert videos.
And that’s your worst toxic trait—thinking you can bake. It always looks easy enough. If they can do it, so can you.
That is, until you’re in the kitchen, halfway through a recipe, and notice you’re out of sugar. The grocery store is too far and will close when you get there.
See what happens when you decide to bake? It always goes differently than you want.
You could call Jungkook to see if he has any or walk over to your new neighbor’s place. The latter was plausible since Namjoon was only a few feet away.
You shook off the nerves, flattened your apron, and lightly knocked on Namjoon’s door. You could hear shuffling as he unlocked it.
Your eyes widened, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Namjoon’s half-naked, black shorts hung dangerously low on his waist. His forehead is glistening with sweat.
“Did I catch you at a bad time?” you ask while trying to keep your gaze in line with his and not ogling his chiseled body.
Shit—maybe he had company over.
He cards his hand through his platinum blonde hair, but a few pieces fall back, covering his eyes. “No, you’re good. I just finished working out. What’s up?” he asks. His hand holds the door open as he leans against it.
You’re dumbfounded, unable to form words again. It’s like a giant hairball stuck in your throat.
Namjoon’s brows raise, and he calls out to you.
“Oh, sorry!” you say. “I’m attempting to bake a cake but I'm out of sugar. I wanted to ask if you have any I can borrow.”
“I think I do,” he ponders as he steps back. “Come in. Come in.”
You step into a squeaky clean apartment. Didn’t he just move in? How does someone unpack so quickly? Or maybe he had little to begin with.
His apartment was like a museum, with pottery, sculptures, and art prints adorning his walls and shelves. But what catches your attention is the translucent, cylindrical coffee table. It doesn’t seem like anyone should be putting anything on it.
Namjoon stands beside you, holding a jar of sugar.
“Ah, thank you so much! Now my cake batter won’t go to waste.”
“Anything catch your fancy?” he asks.
Granted, this man is still half-naked, standing beside you. You’re trying not to go feral over how broad and built he is.
“This, actually,” you point to the glass coffee table.
“That’s probably one of my most prized possessions.”
“It looks expensive.” You’d later come to find out it was worth $1.2M after you did an internet search.
“It is,” he chuckles. “It’s on loan from a friend.”
“On loan?” you ask, turning to him. Your eyes narrow and lips thin. “Can I ask what you do for work?”
“I’m an art curator.”
That makes sense now, considering the expensive and extensive art collection.
“Oh—you’re so fancy,” you tease. “I don’t know shit about art.” You could stand before a painting and feel nothing while looking at it. Maybe you were just going in with the wrong mindset.
Namjoon chuckles. “You can always ask me questions,” he notes before walking away to put on a t-shirt.
You’re a bit disappointed that you can’t ogle him anymore.
“Well, I can’t ask you questions if you don’t take me to a museum,” you flirt, turning toward him.
He grins, showing off his pearly whites and dimple deeply etched into his left cheek. “Are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”
You can’t help but play dumb. “Oh no, of course not! I would like your expertise to guide me around a museum, and if we happen to eat afterward, then I don’t know—would you call that a date?”
Namjoon licks his lips and nods, impressed by your boldness. “Are you busy Friday night?”
The cake wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great either. You’d have to keep perfecting it and maybe keep asking to ‘borrow’ some sugar from your neighbor.
You debated whether you should tell Jungkook about your date with Namjoon. It’s a harmless date; Jungkook would be off the hook if it goes well. Besides, it’s a silly agreement you two made up while drunk.
But, you’d sleep on it and figure it out tomorrow. There was one more day before the date anyway.
As you were sitting in bed, doing your nightly scrolling through social media. A video call comes through.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo
Incoming Video Call
You're on your side when you answer his call. “Hey, Kook,” you say before covering a yawn.
“Ready for bed?” he asks, shuffling underneath his duvet.
Your eyes scan the screen, and you notice his bare shoulders and collarbone on display. You never realized his tattooed sleeve reached so high on his arm, scantily kissing the top of his shoulder.
You cleared your throat. "Yeah, about to call it a night. What's up?"
"I just wanted to call and see how your day was. I was busy at work, so I didn't get to text you," he says.
Now that you think about it, the last text you received from him was this morning. And since the start of your little agreement, Jungkook has been texting and calling more than usual.
"I worked, then attempted to bake a cake."
He props the phone against something as he lies on his side, and parts of his hair still look damp from a shower. And you hate how cuddly he looks while he’s in bed and how you can see how much he works out just from the outline of his arms.
And no—you aren’t thinking about anything else.
"How'd it turn out?"
You shook your head in disgust. "Not very good."
"Ah, I'm sure it was great."
"I'll stick to store-bought cake for now."
"Next time, we can do it together and fail."
He wants to do everything with you, huh?
You chuckle at his comment and then say what’s on your mind, "I never realized how far your tattoo sleeve went up."
He peers at his shoulder. "Oh yeah," he leans forward to show you, his bicep flexing as he moves.
"Cool guy."
He chuckles. "Hardly cool. Just bored," he says. "So, should I schedule you for your tattoo?"
Since the last conversation, you've been scrolling through Pinterest and Instagram to get some ideas.
"I think I want the birth flower for September."
Jungkook shows you his arm, pointing to his tiger lily tattoo. "This one is for the actual day of birth, but the flower for the month of September is pretty too. Have you thought about placement?"
"Mm, maybe on the back of my neck or the inside of my arm. What do you think?" You show him your arm, then the back of your neck.
"It would look great on the back of your neck. It could be a nice surprise when you have your hair up."
"Oh–I like that idea."
He props himself up on the side with a wide grin. "So, I'm booking your appointment?"
You chuckle. "Yeah, why not? We only live once, right?"
Turning 30 is making your confidence go up.
“Once you get one, you’ll want more. Trust me.”
“At least I’ll have a tattoo buddy for life,” you tease.
“Ah, see, I like the way you’re thinking. Well, I should let my wifey get to sleep,” he gives a small smile. He reaches for his phone, placing it on his chest. His other hand is behind his head as he watches you through the screen.
You hum in agreement. “Night.”
“Night.”
Daydreams are one thing, and when Jungkook lies in bed, he can't help but wonder.
Wonder how you’d look in his favorite t-shirt. Wonder which side of the bed you prefer. Wonder if you dream of him, too. Wonder what it’s like to be loved by you.
Jungkook doesn’t want to wonder anymore; he wants to make you his reality.
thursday.
The birthday festivities started early for you as you requested today and tomorrow off. There’s no way you’re spending your last few days of being 29 stuck at work.
Today’s agenda consisted of a pedicure. The toes have to look cute with your new heels, and as you’re ready to head out to your appointment, Jungkook is at your door when you open it.
You tilt your head, knitting your eyebrows together. “Did we have something planned?”
He shakes his head no and pouts. “No, I wanted to surprise you with another gift.”
He hands you a gift bag, and you take a small peek, reaching down to grab the gift. You pull out a peach-shaped heart bath bomb.
“Peach?” You raise a brow and give a smug grin. “What makes you think I like peach?”
Jungkook snorts. “Oh, pfft–I don’t know. Could it be all the candles or soap? Or how you always order any type of peach-flavored alcohol? Tea? Or–”
You suck in your lips, then give a thin smile. “Son of a peach.”
“Very cute. You’re also great at fruit puns. I’ll add that to the list of reasons why I like you,” he chuckles.
To be fair, everything in your apartment had a hint of peach–your candles, air freshener, hand soap, ChapStick, and not to mention a cupboard full of peach tea.
You chuckle. “Thanks, Kook. You didn’t have to.”
“I do if I’m trying to make you fall in love with me.”
You set the bath bomb back in its bag, then on the entryway table. You close the door behind you, forcing him to step back.
“You talk a lot about making me fall in love with you, but you’ve still failed to do so. It’s almost my birthday,” you tease.
What girl wouldn’t want gifts, but you thought he’d push a bit harder.
Jungkook smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He steps closer to you–close enough for you to smell his cologne. It’s a fresh, clean scent.
He’s inches away from you. Warmth is radiating off of him. Your heart is practically beating out of your chest. Your eyes are on his, then focus on his lip ring, then the freckle underneath his bottom lip. It’s the first time you’ve been close enough to notice it.
His eyes dart back and forth between yours. His tongue wets his lips, then plays with his ring. “I’m just getting started,” he says.
You close your eyes, fluttering them back open. There’s relief escaping your body once he backs away.
“So, what are we doing today?” he asks, stepping out of the way to let you lead.
“I have a pedicure appointment. Wanna come?” you ask. You wouldn’t mind having company around, and you’re curious how he’ll continue to sweep you off your feet.
You feel bad for the poor woman who has Jungkook in her seat, and you’re trying your best not to laugh as he’s squirming, clutching onto the armrests.
You clear your throat. “Is this your first pedicure?”
“What? No,” he counters, but he’s giggling non-stop, holding on for dear life.
“Sir–I need you to stop moving,” the woman warns.
You cover your mouth. Your shoulders are bouncing due to your giggles. “Kook, she hasn’t even done anything to you yet.”
“How the hell do women do this? This is torture.”
“Can’t handle a little torture?”
He perks up, shaking off the chills. The woman continues to scrub his feet with a pumice stone. He’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh and smile when she gets to the underside of his foot. Then his reflexes get the best of him, and he almost kicks her.
The woman gives him a blank expression but is professional and continues as fast as possible.
An hour later, Jungkook is coming out of the nail salon, sweating bullets from the endless torture of a pedicure.
You look at him and then his toes. “At least your toes are cute.” He let you choose the color, and you had to choose hot pink to match your birthday theme for this weekend.
He does the walk of shame in a pair of yellow flimsy flip-flops because he wasn’t prepared for a pedicure. You’ve been there, done that.
You link your arms to him when you catch up to him. “Hungry?”
Jungkook groans in delight. “You have to try this.”
He leans forward. A piece of his roasted chicken ravioli covered in pink sauce looks delectable. You open your mouth, devouring the pasta. You close your eyes, savoring it.
“See, what did I tell you?” He smiles, going back to his bowl of food. “How’s yours?”
You didn’t want to say you didn’t like it–but you hate it. “It’s good,” you smile and lie through your teeth.
You begin moving the ravioli around, pretending to make it look like you'll eat it.
Jungkook sets his fork down, pushing his bowl toward you. “Here, take mine.”
You look up at him. “What? No–I like my food,” you lie again, grabbing your bowl and clutching it closer to you.
He deadpans. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you don’t like something. Come on, I’ll finish your food, and you can have mine.”
You let go of your bowl. “Are you sure?”
Jungkook smiles warmly, his small dimple on display as he nods. He grabs your bowl and begins to eat it.
Your heart softens, and you’re enchanted by your friend/potential future husband, so it pains you to have this conversation. You tossed and turned the night before because you couldn’t bear the thought of locking your friend into something he'll regret later on.
“So, you might not have to marry me,” you say.
Jungkook looks up at you, tilting his head in confusion. “Damn, someone beat me to it?” he jokes.
You flash a thin smile and shake your head no. “Well, I have a crush on my new neighbor.”
He raises an eyebrow. “New neighbor?”
You nod. “Yeah, he just moved in.”
Jungkook nibbles on the inside of his mouth then continues to eat. “You barely know the guy, and you’re already tossing me aside?” He tuts, shaking his head.
“I’m–I’m not tossing you aside. You’re still an option, but I’m just saying if it works out with the new neighbor, then you’re off the hook. I'm sure there are better girls out there than me, Kook. You don’t want to be married to me.”
He sets his fork down, pushing his bowl forward. “Well, what can I say? You can’t see the guy?”
“So, you’re okay if I see him?”
Jungkook hesitates to answer. “Mm,” he hums with a nod.
“Are you upset with me?”
“Why would I be upset?” He shrugs. “I’m only a back-up.”
His answer gives you a sense of relief, but you also feel guilty about everything. “Should we end our little deal? That way, you don’t have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life. It seems silly now that we’re both sober and not drunk making promises like this.”
He hums and nods again. “You’re right. It does seem foolish.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin. "I'll go pay while you finish up."
You watch him get up and walk to the register. His demeanor changes as soon as you mention ending the deal.
Is he serious about this?
Honestly, you’re stumped by Jeon Jungkook and his intentions. If he did like you, why not ask you out like an average person? Why go through the trouble of marrying you? So that you could fulfill some silly goal you had for your life?
“I’ll walk you up,” Jungkook says as he turns off the car.
“It’s fine, Kook. You don’t have to,” you counter.
On the ride back, guilt has been eating you from the inside out. You’re unsure why you feel this way–maybe because you feel like a shitty friend. Saying one thing and then doing another.
But again, marriage is a serious thing for two people to consider.
Jungkook doesn’t waver in his decision and escorts you anyway. The silence is deafening in the elevator; the two of you stand at opposite sides, stealing glances. There’s an elephant in the room, but neither of you addresses it.
When the elevator doors open, you expel the caught breath in your throat. Jungkook follows a few steps behind you.
“Are we okay?” you ask, glancing at him before lowering your head.
He stuffs his hand in his pants pocket. “Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“I don’t know. I feel like an ass because you’ve been such a good friend–especially after my breakups. And then this past week, you’ve been sweet and cute with all the little gifts and hangouts,” you pause to look at him.
His eyes are big and innocent, and his lips form a slight pout. He’s intently listening to your words.
“I’m trying to say I’ve enjoyed being with you this week, and I’m sorry how things turned out,” you manage to spit out.
Jungkook nibbles on his lip, showing off his pretty dimple. His eyes dart to yours as he flashes a thin smile. “Well, I’ll always be your back-up if this guy doesn’t work out.”
You breathe a sigh of relief that he can still joke about this situation. You close the distance between you, reaching up and draping your arms around his neck.
It takes a moment for him to return your hug, but he does–wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. He nuzzles in the crook of your shoulder, taking in your sweet scent and softness.
Your heart’s fluttering, your stomach is somersaulting and doing back-flips. Jungkook’s warmth is all-encompassing, encapsulating every fiber of your being. Neither of you let go, allowing this embrace to go longer than usual friends do.
When you pull away, your lips are so close to his. Close enough to explore what they taste like. Close enough to see how plush they are. Close enough to find out just how much you’d have to gasp for air afterward.
You almost want to give in. You almost want to see where this could go. You almost want him to make a move.
Jungkook whispers your name, and you hum, gazing into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? About the deal? You don’t want it anymore?”
You're becoming lost in the stars and galaxies contained in those doe eyes. Jungkook doesn’t lose focus, doesn’t break character, and doesn’t give you a chance to run away.
“This stops when you say so,” he utters softly.
He’s unrelenting, you think. He wants this, doesn’t he? He wants you.
So these next few words sting. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Jungkook doesn’t even realize when he’s outside his apartment complex. He sits in his car, zoning out. He’s so close to finally getting you, but now there’s someone else?
For two years, he’s been trying to buck up the courage and finally ask you out, and when he finally gets an opportunity, someone always swoops in and steals you away.
When he proposed the agreement, it was more of a joke, that is, until you agreed, and that’s when he knew he’d try whatever it took to get you to the altar.
A knock on Jungkook’s window breaks him from deep thought. He looks up to see his roommate, Hoseok.
He gestures for Jungkook to roll his window down. “Why do you look like you're on the verge of crying? Why don’t you go up to the apartment?”
Jungkook holds onto the steering wheel and groans as his head hits it a few times, muttering, ‘Stupid.’
Hoseok knits his eyebrows in confusion as he rubs his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go,” he says, opening the car door.
Jungkook drags his feet through the threshold and drops his backpack on the floor. He continues walking sluggishly, plopping on the couch, still in a daze.
Hoseok blinks at his friend. “What’s going on?”
“You know how I was trying to make ____ fall in love with me this week?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, she likes her new neighbor.”
Hoseok’s eyes widened. “There's a new guy already? I swear this girl must have some kind of bat signal that’s beaming up into the sky that attracts men the second she’s single.”
Jungkook drops his head back, then rubs his face. “What am I going to do?”
Hoseok shrugs. “Maybe tell her how serious you are about being with her.”
“Yeah, but what if she doesn’t want to be with me?”
“So, you’re going to trap her in a marriage instead?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Make it make sense, my friend.”
Maybe that's what he wanted. It could be like an arranged marriage. Meet first, then fall in love.
“I know it sounds ridiculous!”
Hoseok rubs Jungkook’s shoulder. “This whole deal is ridiculous. Be honest with her, then she’ll have to choose between you and the new guy.”
He knows Hoseok is right. He should be honest and tell you how he feels.
Or he could get rid of the new guy, and the deal would be back on.
Decisions. Decisions.
friday.
Jungkook was determined to make this agreement work out in his favor. He wasn’t going to back down so easily.
He took off early from work, going straight to your favorite bakery to grab a cake. Thoughts are racing through his mind as he clutches the cake box and walks through the crowded street.
What if this was his last chance? What if this new guy was ‘the one’ for you? He couldn’t let you slip away again.
He’s even prepared a monologue. He’s mumbling it under his breath when he arrives at your door.
When the door opens, he doesn’t find you. Instead, he finds a half-naked man with broad shoulders and impeccable pecs.
Jungkook stands tall and puffs out his chest, back straight, when he sees this unknown man. His mouth is agape as he scans him from head to toe. Was this the guy you were talking about?
He clears his throat and stands his ground. “Oh, uh, who are you?”
“Hey, man. I’m Namjoon. ___’s neighbor,” he says.
“I’ll be right out!” you yell from the other room.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, and he’s trying to calm his nerves. There’s no way you were sleeping with this guy already, right? No, you can’t be, Jungkook shakes the thought from his head.
You sprint from the hallway, holding a shirt. With your clumsy ways, you spilled iced coffee on Namjoon’s shirt right before your date. You felt bad, so you offered to wash it for him.
“Namjoon, I’m so sorry! I’ve tried everything to get it out. I might have to buy you a new shirt–oh,” you gasp. “Hi, Jungkook.”
Jungkook walks in, setting the box down, and he doesn’t say anything else as he leans against the counter, watching you two.
Namjoon sucks in his lips, strolling to your side, looking at his stained shirt. “Don’t worry about it. It was time to get rid of that shirt anyway.” He gives a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna grab a new shirt, then we’ll be on our way?”
You hum. “See you soon.”
Jungkook’s eyes follow you and Namjoon as you bid him farewell. You lower your head and purse your lips when you approach Jungkook.
“Date night?” he asks, turning to you.
“Yeah,” you whisper.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your date. Just wanted to drop off a cake I picked up for you,” he points to the box on the counter.
You see the bakery's name on the box, and it’s from your favorite place. You undo the tabs and unfold the box to reveal a heart-shaped cake with various shades of baby pink and blue, then sitting prettily on top is one of your favorite Sanrio characters: Cinnamoroll.
“Kook–you didn’t just pick this up.” A cake like this was ordered well in advance.
His eyebrows rise, and he gives a half-smile. He walks beside you. “Happy early birthday,” he says as his eyes flick to yours. “See you tomorrow.”
When the door shuts, you wince.
Namjoon has a brilliant mind, and that intimidates you. He's far too intelligent and reasonable for a hopeless romantic who lives in their daydreams and wants a ring on their finger by tomorrow.
The two of you come to a crowded spot in the museum. You look back and smile at Namjoon. He puts his hands on your waist, guiding you from behind. Your stomach somersaults from the affection, but you continue leading the way through the sea of people, trying not to focus on it.
An announcement reminds museum go-ers that they’ll be closing in 15 minutes.
“Should we head out soon?” you ask with disappointment. You thoroughly enjoyed hearing Namjoon talk even though you had nothing insightful to say about the numerous art pieces.
The corners of his mouth curve up. “But we have one more exhibit to see,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He holds out his hand for yours.
You’re intrigued, so you don’t question and place your hand in his.
Everyone starts to file out toward the exit, but the two of you enter an exhibit hidden away in the back.
“Aren’t we going to get in trouble?” you ask.
He chuckles. “You’re cute,” he says before showing you his work ID and security badge.
“Oh,” you giggle. It makes sense. Namjoon did say he was an ‘art curator.’ He just never mentioned where he worked.
“Feel free to look around and tell me if anything catches your eye.”
You take your time, roaming around, going from piece to piece. Namjoon stays in place, waiting until you’ve found something. You tilt your head, examining the drawing.
[ frida castelli, milan ]
It's a woman. Her back is bare, and she's curling her hands into the bedsheets. The drawing is cut off right at the small of her back, and one can assume the rest. It's erotic–as this exhibit displays various works from modern artists.
Namjoon stands beside you. “Thoughts?”
Horny, you think, but considering this is your first date. You probably shouldn’t blurt it out.
“I like the position she's in,” you say, and Namjoon chokes on nothing. You cover your mouth and can’t help but laugh.
“I like that position too,” he adds.
You try to suppress your smile because now, you’re thinking about the two of you in that position.
"Should we keep looking?"
After a late-night dinner, you’re standing outside your door, not wanting to say goodbye to Namjoon. You’d invite him in, but tomorrow’s a big day, and you have an early wake-up call.
“I hope I was able to answer your questions,” Namjoon says, leaning his shoulder against the door, facing you.
You give him a small smile, looking at the floor, then back up at him. "I think you answered everything."
He hums and parts his lips. "Well, I have one question for you, if that's okay."
You nod.
"Can I give the birthday girl a kiss?"
You lick your lips. "It's not my birthday yet."
Namjoon steps forward, scanning your face. "You can consider it an early birthday present."
"Well, I won't say no to a birthday present."
Your heart is swooning over this tall, handsome man. He’s perfect. He's brilliant and well-spoken. Someone secure and confident, even emotionally available. You’d be a fool not to want this to go further.
Your gaze darts back and forth between his eyes and his lips, unsure how to respond. You've been wondering what they taste like all night and want to kiss the freckle underneath his lip. They look so rosy and pillowy, almost like kissing a cloud.
He softly presses his lips against yours. His big hands cup your face. His nose brushes against your cheek. His lips encapture your top lip, then your bottom. He lingers briefly before pulling away, his lips ghosting over yours, and you want to return for more–you’re not done.
“Do that again,” you whisper.
His breath is warm, and he smiles before going back in, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your hands are placed on his taut chest, fingers curling and tugging on his shirt. The butterflies in your stomach are yearning for a way out. The desire in you grows deeper. You’re breathless at this point, but you don’t care if you never breathe again.
First kisses always make you go weak in the knees, and you wish you could experience them over and over.
“Your lips are stained,” you notice when you pull away.
Namjoon chuckles; his thumb swipes at his bottom lip. “That’s okay.”
He moves in to kiss you again, but you stop him by putting your index finger to his lips. “The birthday girl should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”
You render him speechless—he made the first move, but you’ll have the final say.
You bid goodbye to him, trying your best not to linger and give in to your urges. Peering through the viewfinder, you see him smiling and shaking his head before he closes the door to his place.
You’re grinning from ear to ear as your back is against the door. The date couldn’t have gone better–though you probably couldn’t write a dissertation on Modern Art in Korea, you appreciated that he took the time to explain what he loves and why he’s so passionate about it.
Maybe he could be the one.
It’s midnight when you’re under the covers and still glowing from your date with Namjoon.
You check your phone to see text messages from Jungkook.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:22 PM
Hey! I found some cool birth flowers. Do you like any of these?
[ 5 images attached ]
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 9:27 PM
And my tattoo guy had a last-minute cancellation for Monday at 6 p.m. I’m gonna book you for it, okay?
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 10:05 PM
I can go to hold your hand if you’d like.
KooKoo-Ca-Choo 11:11 PM
I hope you had a good day. See you tomorrow, birthday girl.
This differed from how you wanted to celebrate your birthday week, especially not how you envisioned your friendship with Jungkook. Did you ruin it?
And that’s when your heart aches as you reflect on this past week. Jungkook has been so sweet, and you feel like the worst friend. Could he be into you, and you’re blind to notice?
But what about Namjoon? He’s undoubtedly checked off all the boxes you could want in a partner.
Plus, Jungkook’s just a back-up.
saturday.
The sun is peeking through, and the birds are chirping away. You’ve slept through your alarm because you’re still in dreamland.
You’re unsure who’s in bed with you. All you hear is a groan and shuffling as they reposition themselves. You peer over your shoulder, quickly turning away when they pull themselves closer to you. Then, as an arm comes into view, draping over you, you recognize the inked skin.
It’s Jungkook.
A buzz from your phone and a bang at the door awakens you. Missed notifications of calls and texts from Jenn, your best friend, flood your screen.
You sprint to the door, unlocking and opening it for her.
“Jesus Christ—I thought you were dead,” Jenn says after she brushes past you, setting several bags on your kitchen counter.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, babe,” she blinks, giving you the once-over. “You haven’t showered, have you?”
You shake your head no.
“Well, go! It’s your birthday, but we can’t wait all day for you.” She shoos you off to the bathroom.
When you’re out of the shower, Jenn’s sitting in front of your vanity, putting on her blush.
“So, how are you doing, babe? Still not over Theodore Boner?”
“Bonner,” you correct her.
You adjust your towel, tucking it securely. “There’s been some new developments,” you say, walking to your dresser.
Jenn slowly turns around. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with him? He was a walking red flag. Well, at the end of your relationship anyway.”
You press your lips together, shaking your head. “You know that time I was upset about my break-up with Jimin?”
Jenn hums and narrows her eyes.
“Jungkook and I went out and got pretty drunk.”
She leans forward. “Uh-huh.”
You cleared your throat. “I may have agreed that if Jungkook and I were still single by 30, we’d get married.” You turned around, opening the top drawer in search of cute underwear.
Jenn’s jaw drops. “You’re not going to marry Jeon Jungkook, are you?”
You laugh it off. “No, of course not! But he’s always been there for me after my break-ups.”
“Oh, how convenient that he also happens to be single by your 30th birthday,” she says dryly.
“Jungkook’s been a good friend, and if we were to get married, and that’s a big if, then honestly, I think we’d be pretty good together,” you explain.
You're not sure if you're attempting to persuade Jenn or yourself. You’re not going to lie. You’ve toyed with the idea this whole week.
“Why don’t you just date Jungkook then?” she asks, returning to add more blush to her cheeks.
You nibble on your bottom lip. “Err–well, because there’s a new guy.”
She whips her head back around. “I go on a solo trip, and you have not one but two guys who want to be with you?”
“Technically, I told Jungkook that if things work out with me and Namjoon, he doesn’t have to marry me.”
“Namjoon?”
“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor.”
“Shut up! Your neighbor?” Jenn stands, sprinting out your bedroom door. “Which apartment? I need to see this man.”
“Jenn!” You run after her, clutching her arm, trying to pull her back. “Stop it, will you? He’ll be at the party tonight.”
Jenn turns to you. “Babe–you have Jungkook and new neighbor guy vying for your attention? Sheesh. When can I be the main character?”
You grip your towel and drag her back to your room.
“At least tell me more juicy details,” she whines.
Jungkook checks himself out in the mirror. Hot pink usually is not part of his wardrobe color, but he does it in a heartbeat if it involves you and your silly antics.
He slips the hot pink denim jacket over his white shirt and matching pink cargo trousers. He adds a neon green necklace to finish off his look.
This outfit is Ken-esque, right? He sighs, wishing you could be the Barbie to his Ken.
His roommate, Hoseok, knocks on his door, breaking his focus. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”
Jungkook nibbles the inside of his cheek. This week’s been a rollercoaster of emotions for him. He was at an all-time high before you broke the news that you no longer need a back-up.
He’s gone back and forth, debating whether to fight for you or give up.
"I don't know yet," Jungkook responds. He glances at Hoseok through the mirror's reflection.
“Tell her how you feel. Be honest with her,” Hoseok says. He’s been telling Jungkook for two years now.
Jungkook turns around. “I can’t–” he pauses and huffs a breath, taking a seat on the bed.
Hoseok narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he leans against the door frame. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve done too much shit by breaking up her relationships. She’ll never forgive me,” Jungkook explains.
Hoseok choked on nothing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“Remember Jimin and Theo?”
Hoseok hums.
Jungkook clears his throat. “I may or may not have told some harmless lies that ended up in them breaking up with her.”
Hoseok huffs out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell her right off the bat that you wanted to date her.”
“I’m an idiot, that’s why, and now it’s too late. She doesn’t want me. She wants the neighbor guy.”
Hoseok sits by his friend. “It’s either now or never. You can’t keep breaking up her relationships because you’re too scared to be in a real one with her. You don’t want to start it off that way.”
Jungkook flings himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “I know! I’ve just never done this before. I don’t know how to act. She’s the first person I’ve had actual feelings for.”
Hoseok blinks at his friend, ready to say something, but Jungkook interrupts him. “Don’t say shit about that–many people don’t meet the right person until later in life.”
He holds his hands up in defeat. “There’s no judgment from me, my friend. Just consider my words before anyone gets hurt.”
You swipe the lip tint across your bottom lip and repeat with the top. Glancing in the mirror, you adjust your dusty rose dress and tie your matching ribbon in your hair.
The theme for tonight's party is Barbie core, and individuals are encouraged to wear any shade of pink. You’re ridiculous, but you only turn 30 once–why not go all out?
Buckets of bubbly are filled with rosé bottles and floral ice cubes. Barbie-esque props, including heart-shaped sunglasses and cut-out foam lips, are ready to be used at the photo booth. You’ve spent too much time on Pinterest planning the perfect celebration.
It’s ten to seven and still too early for people to show, so you order a Malibu Barbie cocktail at the bar. Jin, the bartender, even tops off your drink with pink sanding sugar for this special occasion and throws in a little peach schnapps.
“There’s the birthday girl.”
When you turn around, you see Jungkook in a bright pink attire. Not every day you see him dressed in anything other than black or white, so you consider this a rare treat.
He offers you a warm hug, and you both act as if nothing has changed. It’s not like you’ve seen him every day as he’s dropped off gifts for you, or he willingly watched a rom-com and definitely hadn’t cuddled.
It’s like you’ve gone back to being just friends.
As you withdraw, you give him the once-over. “You look great in hot pink. I wish I got to see your matching toes.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I don’t think sandals would go with this outfit.”
You shake your head no.
“You look amazing,” he adds, taking your hand and making you twirl for him.
“Thanks, Kook,” you grin. Your hand lingers in his as he delicately caresses your skin. The back of your neck is warming up, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve made a mistake breaking off your deal.
“Ah, there’s our Barbie girl!” Jenn exclaims as she approaches you. Immediately, you let go of Jungkook’s hand.
“Hey!” you answer, rubbing the back of your neck. “What’s up? Did you need something?”
Jenn raises her brow at you and Jungkook. “I did, but you’re busy with Ken, so I’ll ask Hoseok to help me. Enjoy your night, babe.”
You take your drink and dash off with Jenn, telling Jungkook you’ll see him later. As you stroll behind her, you loop your arm around hers.
“Are you okay?” Jenn narrows her eyes, suppressing a smile.
You clear your throat. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It looks like you and loverboy were having a moment there before I interrupted,” she says, setting down the flower vase on the dessert table.
“He’s not my loverboy. I’m gonna start seeing Namjoon, remember?”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that. Look–all I’m saying is you should give Jungkook a chance. Anyone could tell he’s head over heels in love with you.”
You choke on your drink. “What? How come no one’s ever told me?”
Jenn laughs. “I never put two and two together until you mentioned your little agreement with him this morning,” she pauses, cupping your face. “And my sweet, innocent Barbie girl, he shoots heart eyes whenever you’re around.” She holds your chin, turning you in Jungkook’s direction.
Jungkook is leaning on the bar, attempting to find the perfect stance to appear cool, but he has no idea what to do with himself. He peers in your direction, catching your gaze, and quickly turns away, waving down the bartender.
She continues, “You’ve been with so many knockoff Kens that you were blind to the real one. He’s a bit of a goofball, but he seems sweet, and like you mentioned today, he’s always around when you’re in need.”
What if your decision was a mistake? Would it be too late to change your mind? You were sure Jungkook had already moved on after being rejected.
You watch while Jungkook drinks something–you figure it's vodka. A shot for yourself seems enticing, simply to settle your anxieties.
Your birthday is supposed to be filled with joy, laughter, and celebration, not you being torn between two great guys.
The party is in full swing–the music’s blaring, friends laughing, chattering, drinking away. Everyone has arrived except for the one person you've been looking for: Namjoon.
You giggle when you scan the room and see Hoseok and Jungkook dancing in the corner. When your eyes catch him, he gestures for you to come dance, but you haven’t had enough alcohol to make a fool of yourself.
He sprints to you, grabbing your hand and dragging you along. “You need a drink before you dance, huh?”
Your lips thin, and you think, how does he know you so well?
You nod and follow him from behind. You stare blankly as his hands are loosely intertwined with yours. He’s leading you through the crowd, letting go once you’re at the bar’s counter.
“Do you still want that pink drink thingy you had earlier?”
“Surprise me,” you say.
“Two Pink Cadillacs, please,” he says to Jin.
As Jin gets to work on your drinks, Jungkook makes small talk to kill time.
“Are you having fun?” he asks, standing before you. He sways to the song's beat, grinning from ear to ear.
You’d have more fun if you weren’t thinking about him and Namjoon all night. Considering that Namjoon hasn’t even shown up yet, you appreciate that Jungkook’s a sweet and caring friend.
“I’ll be having more fun once I have this drink,” you say over the music.
“You’re not having fun with me?” he jokes, holding out his hand for yours, and of course, you take it.
He draws you to him, makes you twirl around, and then dips you. A slight squeal escapes your lips when you come back up.
Jungkook chuckles. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“No, I’m–I’m having a good time,” you answer his previous question.
“Are you sure? It looks like something’s on your mind,” Jungkook notes. "You can always talk to me, you know."
Even after breaking off your agreement, he's still willing to be a good friend to you. How'd you get so lucky with someone like him?
"I know," you smile, draping your arms around his neck.
"Two Pink Cadillacs."
You break away from him, grabbing your drink. The two of you sip on them, watching the crowd.
"Jungkook, one. Hot sexy neighbor, zero," Jenn whispers in your ear before walking away.
You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at her. It’s been an hour, and Namjoon is still nowhere to be seen. Maybe something came up. Things happen. You get it.
"What's going on with Jenn?" he asks.
"Nothing," you reply as you move to stand before him. "You know how she is."
Jungkook takes another sip of his drink. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?”
Your eyes widen and flick to him. Have you been obvious about what’s on your mind?
“Yeah, of course–” you say before a hand slides on the small of your back. You turn to see the man who’s been MIA, Namjoon.
“Hey, birthday girl. I’m sorry I’m late! It was a lot harder to find a pink outfit than I thought,” Namjoon chuckles, then he sees that he may have interrupted something. “Oh–hey, man! Jungkook, right?”
Jungkook gives a small smile, and you mouth, ‘Sorry.’
“Can I steal you away for a second?” Namjoon asks, and you oblige.
Namjoon takes your hand, ready to drag you off, but you stop and return to Jungkook. “Can we talk later?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course. It’s your birthday. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you later.”
Jungkook looks on as you and Namjoon disappear. You laugh when he says something, and Jungkook can hear it–you always let out a tiny squeak, your shoulders bounce, and you cover up your mouth because you don't like how your teeth show when you laugh.
He rubs the back of his neck. He’ll have to find time to talk to you later.
Hoseok nudges Jungkook. “Who’s that?”
Jungkook sips his drink and inhales sharply. “Her neighbor.”
“They look pretty cozy to me,” Hoseok remarks. “Go say something before it’s too late.”
It’s already too late, Jungkook thinks. He’s lost you again. What’s the point if he tried with you and you didn’t want him?
He chugs the drink and orders another round for him and Hoseok. He might as well enjoy the booze while he can–at least it would get you off his mind.
Jungkook's vision is blurred, speech slurred. Even though he sees double, his gaze is still fixed on you and Namjoon, following you wherever you go: the photo booth, the bar, the dance floor. Namjoon’s hands haven’t left you, whether holding your hand or soft touches on the small of your back.
It should be him, he thinks, but he’s been turned down before. He couldn't imagine being rejected twice.
He leans on a high-top table, rhythmically tapping his fingers against it. A few of your friends drag you off to the photo booth for the umpteenth time tonight, and Namjoon is left waiting for you.
Jungkook waits and observes Namjoon, wondering why you’d choose Namjoon over him. He thinks he could take the guy in the boxing ring. He’s too big and sluggish to move as fast as Jungkook. Indeed, he could knock Namjoon out with his right hook. But if it’s not a physical thing you’re looking for, then it’s an intellectual thing.
He shakes off the self-deprecating thoughts. Why doesn’t he go over and chat the guy up? Get to know him. It won’t hurt to find out what kind of guy he is.
There's a queue of friends waiting to take individual shots with you, and you look over to check whether Namjoon is all right. You notice Jungkook approaching and breathe a sigh of comfort, knowing he'll keep Namjoon company.
Jungkook stands up tall when he’s beside Namjoon. “Lavish party, huh?”
Namjoon turns to him and chuckles. “Yeah, she went all out for her 30th.” He cracks his neck and adjusts his bright pink blazer.
“Since you’ll be around, you should get used to it. ___ throws parties like this all the time.”
“She does?” Namjoon’s eyes widened with concern.
Jungkook pouts and nods. “You think this is bad? Last year, she rented a private island, and everyone who attended had to buy a plane ticket to her party.”
Namjoon gulps.
“Man–and now that you guys are together. I'm wishing nothing but the best for you," Jungkook shakes his head. "The last guy was going through it.”
“Last guy? What happened to the last guy?”
Jungkook glances in your direction, then back to Namjoon. “Oh, you guys haven’t had that conversation yet?”
“What conversation?”
“Let’s just say there was a restraining order involved.”
There’s a look of relief on Namjoon’s face. “Man, that guy must’ve been a psycho.”
Jungkook shakes his head. “Oh no, no, no. The restraining order was against her!”
Namjoon shifts his position, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Trust me, you don’t want to get on her bad side. Once, she took a bat to a neighbor’s car, thinking it was her boyfriend’s. Mind you, she was pretty drunk—and it was dark, but when she has an idea that you’re cheating on her, all hell breaks loose,” Jungkook tuts.
“Oh.”
Jungkook chuckles. “And don’t even get me started on her obsession with that one K-pop group, Seventeen. She practically has a shrine in her bedroom. Mingyu’s face is plastered on every square inch of her walls, and when they finally came on tour, she drained so much of her savings flying everywhere to see them—front row, I might add.”
Namjoon clears his throat. “I think I need a drink,” he says.
“But don’t worry, man, you’ll be fine!” Jungkook shouts as Namjoon walks away.
He lowers his head and rubs his face. He blames the alcohol for his stupidity. His string of lies is why you would never want to be with him.
Although Jungkook has spewed many lies to Namjoon, it doesn’t scare him off. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. And when he sees Namjoon jet off somewhere, Jungkook swoops in, hoping he’ll have a chance to talk to you before it’s too late.
“Hey!” Jungkook says out of breath. “Going home?”
“Yeah,” you beam a warm smile. “I’m pretty wiped.”
“I can take you home, and then maybe we can talk?”
You nod. “Mm, that sounds like a plan.”
You’ve always found it easy to talk to Jungkook. Even though he claims not to be good at chitchatting, he knows how to make you smile and laugh.
“Did you see Hoseok and Jenn trying to undress each other?” Jungkook chuckles.
“Jenn claims she thought Hoseok was a Ken doll,” you giggle. “I don’t know why they keep skirting around each other. They should date already.”
You two arrive outside your apartment. You unlock the keypad, leaving the door open. Turning back, you see Jungkook standing there. “Are you gonna come in or talk to me from out there?” you ask, shaking your head.
Jungkook walks through the door, closing it behind himself. He smooths down his pants and fixes the collar of his jacket. His gaze darts around the room as he prepares to say what’s on his mind.
“Can I change, and then we’ll talk?”
Jungkook nods, and you run off to your room.
With a heavy sigh, he takes a seat on the couch. He keeps shifting his weight, but nothing feels right. The sweat on his hands increases as the seconds pass by. He's never done it before, confessed his feelings.
Jungkook had rehearsed like he was up for a big audition but felt he’d stumble over his words and blurt out bleh-bleh-blahs.
You resurface a few seconds later, wearing an oversized t-shirt and what appears to be nothing underneath, but when you sit down, he catches a peek at your shorts.
“You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, about us.”
You cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Us?”
A knock on the door interrupts you. Your eyebrows knitted together, wondering who it could be this late at night. When you open it, you find Namjoon.
“Hey! You left your phone at the restaurant,” he says. He acknowledges Jungkook as he steps in.
“Oh, thank you! Ah–don’t leave yet! I have something to give to you, too.” You dash to your room, leaving Jungkook and Namjoon.
There’s a moment before Jungkook breaks the silence. He turns to Namjoon. “That shirt she’s wearing is from her ex-boyfriend. She sleeps in it every night because she misses him.”
Namjoon’s lips thin, and he nods.
“Trust me–you should run while you can,” Jungkook says, shaking his head.
He points to the small Seventeen merch collection sitting on a shelf in your living room. “See. It’s cute and innocent until it’s not.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Namjoon says reluctantly as he turns away, trying to focus on other things until you return.
You leave your room with a bag, handing it to Namjoon. “I washed your shirt and bought you a new one too.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” he reaches for the shirt, taking it out.
“I know, but I felt bad about ruining it.”
Namjoon chuckles. "I like how you're giving me a gift on your birthday."
You wave off his comment. "It's nothing. Thanks for returning my phone,” you say, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you later?”
He flashes a grin; his dimples etched deeply into those cheeks. You pull him down to kiss him on the cheek, barely catching the corner of his lips. You let it linger for a second longer, ensuring Jungkook can see it.
“Bye,” you whisper, closing the door behind him.
You stand with your back facing Jungkook. Clenching your jaw and your fists, you huff a breath. Turning around, you stare at the one person you thought was your friend.
“This is my ex-boyfriend’s shirt, and I sleep in it because I miss him?” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.
Your glare silences Jeon Jungkook, and his deer-in-the-headlights appearance implies guilt.
You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Have you been sabotaging all my relationships? Tell me the truth.”
You remember Jimin and Theo and how conveniently Jungkook had been there after each breakup.
There’s still no word from Jungkook. He’s playing with the invisible hair on his chin before he stands. “Yeah, but it’s only because—”
“Because what!” you exclaim. Never in a million years did you think you’d be yelling at a good friend. “Because you want to marry me? Why didn’t you just ask me out, Kook?”
The nickname causes his heart to ache. His eyes darted to the floor, then at you. “Because...”
You lean forward, waiting for his excuse, but he doesn’t give you one. You’re only met with silence.
“Because you’re the kind of guy who lies and manipulates to get what he wants? Didn’t really think you were that kind of person.”
“I’m not—”
“You are! If you cared about me, you wouldn’t go around spreading lies. And to think I was going to marry you? God–you must think I’m fucking stupid.”
"No, I don't think that at all—" he counters, taking a step toward you, and you take a step back.
Licking your lips, you play with your bottom lip. "I—I don't even know who you are anymore."
"I'm the same person you met two years ago," he says. Jungkook steps toward you again, reaching out for you.
"Don't touch me," you warn. "Don't you ever talk to me again," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You should go, Kook."
Jungkook walks past you. He makes his way to the door—and when it shuts, you flinch.
Approaching your 30s, you figured you’d be crying because you’re likely to have a mid-life crisis and not because one of your good friends has lied to you for the last couple of years.
Jungkook has misled you throughout the week. You don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore.
Your heart aches from the pain. Why did this hurt more than a breakup? You trusted him, even considered marrying him and spending the rest of your life with him. How could you be so naive? Maybe it was your distorted perception of love and relationships, and that’s how you ended up in this situation.
Maybe it's your fault and no one else's.
sunday.
It’s early. Too early for Jungkook’s taste.
He’s been tossing and turning all night. Wishing he could redo the last two years. Wishing he could’ve been honest from the beginning. Wishing you didn’t hate him right now.
Picking up his phone, he grumbles after seeing the time—six in the morning. There’s no way you’re up, he thinks. And there’s no way you’ll pick up his call either.
He assumes you’ve blocked him—wants nothing to do with him and doesn’t blame you.
The expression on your face is ingrained in his memory, and the lies he told are on a continuous loop. How would he win you back—if you’d let him, that is.
It’s that point in the romantic movie where the love interest finds the courage to go for it. Jungkook has nothing else to lose at this point. It’s now or never.
With your favorite iced coffee and pastry in hand, he’s ready to beg for your forgiveness. Beg for another chance to make things right.
Three knocks strike your door. No answer.
He gives it another moment before doing it again.
And nothing.
He pulls out his phone, searching for your contact. It rings several times and goes to voicemail. At least you didn’t block him, he thinks.
Should he wait here all day? In hopes you’ll leave your apartment?
Unless Namjoon has seen you or knows your whereabouts.
Jungkook figures, why not? What does he have to lose? He’s already lost his dignity.
Another three knocks, only this time it’s on Namjoon’s door. A few moments later, the lock unlatches, and the door opens.
Namjoon’s eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”
“Hey. Have you seen or heard from ___?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. I haven’t.”
The corners of Jungkook’s lips turn down, and he nods. “Fuck,” he mumbles, lowering his head. He turns on his heel, ready to leave.
“Hey, Jungkook?”
He turns back and hums.
“If you like her, be honest with her,” Namjoon says.
Jungkook rubs the back of his neck. “Did ___ tell you?”
Namjoon chuckles and shakes his head no. “I figured you were lying when you said she made everyone fly to a private island. She mentioned that she’s never flown before. So I put two and two together, and it was hard to ignore all the glares you gave me at the party.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, lowering his head. “I’m so sorry about all the lies I told you. None of them were true—except maybe the Mingyu thing. She does have an obsession with that guy.”
He clears his throat. “I’m sorry about coming between you two. But it’s no wonder she likes you. You have your head on straight, unlike me.”
A grin sweeps across Namjoon’s face. “It’s okay. I get it, man. I’ve been there before—not the lying, but I’ve been head over heels for someone. ___ is cool, and you seem like a good guy. Just…don’t give up on her, okay?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What about you guys?”
“Huh? Me and ___?” Jungkook hums. “We’ve been out on one date, and you’ve known her for…?
“Two years.”
“You have more history with her than I do.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell lies.”
Namjoon steps forward, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You’d be a fool to give up now. Trust me, you don’t want to live with the what ifs and what could have been.”
“Um, here,” Jungkook says, handing Namjoon the iced coffee and pastry bag. “I don’t want it to go to waste.”
He bids Namjoon goodbye, and as he’s driving home, he stares off into space, pondering Namjoon’s words.
What if you never want to talk to him again? What if he loses you?
He only wanted his chance with you; whenever he gathered the courage to do so, someone always came into the picture before him. He’s realized how much his lies caused more harm than good. He was cheating his way into your heart, which is unfair to you and him.
You peek out when the elevator doors open, ensuring the coast is clear. You've seen the missed calls and texts but needed more time to be ready to face Jeon Jungkook. That's why you've been hiding out at Jenn's all day. But alas, you had to go home and face your fears.
Your door accidentally slams when you go in. Shit.
It’s not like Jungkook’s been waiting around for you, right? Though, you didn’t want to make it known that you were home.
Not even ten minutes after you’ve arrived, there’s a knock on your door. Peering through your viewfinder, you check if the coast is clear and unlock your door. You grab Namjoon's hand, pulling him into the apartment.
"Whoa–miss me that much?" he jokes, setting down the iced coffee and pastry bag.
"What's that?"
"Jungkook dropped it off this morning, but you weren't here. Have you been hiding?"
You lower your head. "Yes."
Namjoon licks his lips. “He’s in love with you, you know?”
You ignore the coffee and pastry bag and sit on the couch. “It’s a weird way to show that you like someone by lying and sabotage.”
Disbelief is written all over your face: eyes wide, brows lifted, jaw open, which only makes him laugh harder.
“You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d say single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.”
“Is this a weird ‘guy code?’ Am I missing something?”
He shakes his head. “I get where he’s coming from. Does it suck that he lied instead of saying what he wanted? Yeah, but maybe he didn’t know how to say it because he feared he’d say nonsense in front of you. I know the feeling–where you like someone so much, you’re afraid of looking dumb.”
You ponder Namjoon’s words, sipping on your iced coffee. “You seem chatty. Does that mean you don’t go dumb around me?” you ask dryly.
Namjoon laughs. “I get butterflies and excitement every time I walk out my door, hoping I’d bump into you.”
“But?”
“But you should figure things out with Jungkook, and then we’ll go from there.”
It’s silly—the glow-in-the-dark stars that are plastered on your ceiling. Half of them threaten to fall, and the other half are stuck on so tight it’ll take off the paint.
“You’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars before?” Jungkook asks. “Let’s get some.”
The only reason why they’re up there in the first place is because of him. Jungkook was comforting you after your breakup with Jimin.
You throw your duvet over your head, screaming into it. How could you have been so blind? So stupid? How are you supposed to face him again with your friend group? Or alone?
This past week was perfect—at least, you thought it was. But you’re second-guessing every interaction, every conversation, every laugh, every touch.
If you hadn’t met Namjoon, could you have fallen in love with Jungkook?
The more you thought about it, the more you hated that you were falling for him. Maybe Namjoon was just an excuse not to explore a relationship with Jungkook. Maybe you didn’t want to ruin your friendship, but then again, what did it matter because it’s been sabotaged by Jungkook himself?
How would you get out of this mess?
monday.
A notification ding shows up on your phone.
[ Tattoo appointment - 6 PM ]
Shit. You completely forgot about your tattoo.
You go through your text messages, finding the Instagram profile of Kai, who’s supposed to tattoo you. You frown when you see a cancellation fee and that the cancellation should’ve been done two days before the appointment. Now, you have to mentally prepare yourself for getting your first tattoo.
The recommendations on your YouTube only show videos of ‘how much does getting a tattoo hurt.’ You know the pain that goes into a needle puncturing your skin. The question was, how high was your pain threshold?
When you walk into the shop, a bell chimes. It’s in pristine condition, as one would expect from a tattoo parlor. You’re greeted by a girl dressed in a black latex v-neck top. A sunray heart tattoo sits right on her chest.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Kai.”
She clicks through her computer and beams a warm smile. “For ___?” You nod. “Is Jungkook coming too?” she asks.
“Oh no. I don’t think so.” Was he planning on getting something, too? You didn’t think he’d show after everything went down.
“Kai is finishing up with a client, and he’ll come get you when he’s ready.”
You flash a small smile, taking a seat in their lounge. You’re picking at your nail beds and bouncing your leg. You’re trying to focus on anything other than what will happen soon.
A light noise of whirring fills the room. You close your eyes, concentrating on your breathing. It’s a small tattoo. There’s nothing to be afraid of, you think.
A part of you wishes Jungkook was here to hold your hand like he said he would. It's dumb even to want him to be here. But after spending so much time with him this past week, you admit you miss him.
"I’m ready for you,” Kai says.
You take a deep breath and follow him to his workspace.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s my first tattoo.”
“You’ll do great. I know it,” Kai smiles, sitting at his desk. He grabs his iPad. “Okay, what are we getting today?” Kai asks.
“Um, I turned 30 yesterday, so I wanted to get the birth flower for September,” you say, showing him the inspiration photos.
“Ah, Happy Birthday,” Kai grins. “Birth flowers are a great choice. Any idea where you want it and the size?”
"On the back of my neck, I don't want anything too big. Two to three inches."
"Oh–a woman who knows what she wants. There was no hesitation," Kai teases. "Cool–so, I'll sketch out a few options, and then we'll go from there. Sound good?"
You press your lips together and nod. As Kai's working on your sketch, you stroll around his workspace, looking at the illustrations hung up. There's traditional and fine line art, and you recognize a drawing of a snake—it looks like the one Jungkook has on his arm.
“See anything else you like?”
“I, um, recognize some of your work. You’ve tattooed my friend, Jungkook,” you note, turning back to look through more of Kai’s sketches.
Somehow, your nerves have finally calmed down. The whirring noise from the tattoo gun is like white noise to you, drowning everything out. You’re lost in the intricate detailing of the drawings. Tattooing is true art, you think. But instead of a traditional canvas or paper, it’s forever inked on someone’s skin.
“Okay, let me know what you think of these.” Kai shows you the iPad with a few flowers drawn out.
“You’re so quick,” you comment as you review your options. “Let’s go with this one.” You love how delicate and dainty the tattoo looks.
“If you need a break at any time, just let me know,” Kai gives a warm smile. “I apologize for the weird positioning, but I’ll need you to lay on your stomach, and your head will hang off the table.”
Your lips thin when you catch his gaze. You remove your zip-up hoodie and place it on a chair with your bag. Kai prints the design on transfer paper, putting the placement on the back of your neck. He hands you a mirror, ensuring it’s in the correct spot.
“Alright, let’s do this,” he says.
Once you’re on the table, the once-soothing noise of the tattoo gun flips a switch, and sweat builds up in the palms of your hands. The blood rushes to your head as your head is hanging off the table. You can see Kai’s feet as he steps on the foot pedal, ensuring his equipment works correctly.
You take a deep breath, trying to exhale fear and anxiety, but nothing works. The tattoo gun sounds closer, and the needle inches away from you. Your fists clench up, and you close your eyes, hoping it’ll be over quickly.
You can feel the latex glove on your back as Kai’s ready to outline the design. You can do this, you think.
With eyes still closed, fists clenched—you’re ready.
The shop's bell chimes again, but you’re too focused on this needle about to prick your skin. You can feel another presence. Their warmth is radiating on you. You figure it’s just the girl from the front, so you don’t bother to open your eyes.
Your fist unclenches, and not because of your own doing. It’s whoever is beside you. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of black motorcycle denim tucked into leather stomper boots.
“Hey—my man,” Kai stops and acknowledges. “Good to see you, Jungkook.”
“Hey,” Jungkook replies. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Nah, you’re right on time. We just started. I’m sure ___ appreciates you being here,” Kai notes, returning to tattooing you.
You didn’t want to admit it, but having Jungkook’s presence was comforting. A part of you wanted to be stubborn and pull your arm away, but considering that a needle was piercing your skin—it wasn’t a good idea.
Jungkook laces his hand with yours; his thumb lightly grazes over your skin. He leans forward, whispering, “Hi.”
You’re unsure if the shiver running through your spine is because of the needle or Jungkook.
While lying on this tattoo table, you’re at war with yourself. An angel on one shoulder tells you to stay strong and not give in because he’s holding your hand. The devil, on the other hand, is telling you you’re a simp and can’t resist when a man is fawning over you.
You hate that the devil is right, and you’re even considering Namjoon’s words, ‘You gotta give the guy some credit. He went out of his way to make sure you’d stay single so he could finally have his chance with you. That sounds like dedication to me.’
Was it dedication or delusion?
You won’t lie. You’ve done questionable things when it came to love, too, so you couldn’t blame Jungkook. Maybe you should hear him out and see what he says for himself.
You’re silent, letting Kai do his thing. He and Jungkook chit-chat about life and future tattoos. The buzzing mechanical hum from the tattoo gun is constant and annoying—you’re growing numb to it like you’re growing numb to the pain.
But Jungkook’s touch? It makes you tingle. You’re keenly aware of how his thumb strokes against your knuckle—the constant squeezes, reassuring your anxiety when the pain shoots down your spine.
Through the years, that’s what Jungkook’s always been—he soothes your pain.
Maybe he’s responsible for your current pain - the shattered relationships and this tattoo you’re getting, but he always has a back-up plan: himself. He’s the shoulder to cry on, the hand to hold—the constant, consistent one who shows up repeatedly.
He’s confusing but calming, and you’re annoyed at how much you don’t mind his touch. Your breathing slows, and your shoulders relax as you sink into the cushioned table.
“Almost done,” Kai notes.
That was fast. Fifteen minutes–tops.
Kai finishes cleaning the tattoo, and after you stand up from your awkward position, you’re face to face with Jungkook. Once again, Jungkook resorted back to his favorite color: black. He’s in an oversized long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and there’s a silver chain adorning his neck.
His doe eyes twinkle and the corners of his mouth curve up. “The tattoo looks good on you,” he says softly. “Do you wanna see?”
Even with a mirror, the placement makes it hard to see the finished product. You grab your phone, open the camera app, and hand it over to Jungkook. You turn around, facing the mirror, holding up your hair. You catch Jungkook’s gaze and look away. His hand gently touches the nape of your neck, removing a stray hair. He snaps a few photos, handing your phone back.
“It looks beautiful on you.”
You mumble a word of thanks, grabbing your things, attempting to flee from his presence.
Pulling out your wallet to pay for your tattoo, you head to the front, but the girl stops you.
“Jungkook already paid,” she says.
The nape of your neck warms up, and your nostrils flare. You nod at the girl. Bumping into Jungkook on the way out, you stuff your wallet back into your bag, and Jungkook follows you, catching up.
“Why did you do that?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook.
"Because it's your birthday present. I couldn't let you pay for it."
You narrow your eyes, giving him the once over. “Why? So you can tell the next guy I date how we have matching tattoos and scare him off?” you retort, brushing past him.
Jungkook cards his hand through his hair. “Come on, that’s not fair,” he shouts, running after you again.
He calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you breathe a heavy sigh. “You’re right. It's not fair,” you give him a wry smile. “But doesn’t it sound like something you’d say? Mr. Liar Liar Pants on Fire.”
The third time must be the charm because he’s chasing after you again.
“Hey, can we talk, please?” he implores as his eyes scan your face.
You zig-zag around him.
He repeats by running and standing in front of you. “You can’t avoid me forever.”
“Watch me,” you retort, attempting to flee again.
Jungkook holds his hand up. “Just hear me out, and if you never want to talk to me again after that, then so be it."
You huff. “Only if you drop me off at home,” you say, crossing your arms. You don’t feel like taking the subway; it’s the least he could do.
With hands in your lap, you’re waiting for Jungkook to say something, but he’s as quiet as a mouse. He’s missed two exits and been driving in circles, going past your apartment complex for the fourth time. You wouldn’t be surprised if a police car starts following you, considering how suspicious the two of you look.
You can’t take it anymore—the endless dancing around this conversation. “I thought you wanted to talk?” you ask as your eyes flick in his direction for a moment.
He straightens his posture, gripping the steering wheel and focusing on the road. "I'm, uh, I’m sorry for telling all those lies. It was stupid of me. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning.”
You bury your face in your hands before turning to him. “If you liked me, why didn’t you tell me?”
You had come up with many scenarios in your head and thought back to your conversations and interactions with him. Jungkook had so many chances to say something, but he never did.
Jungkook shrugs and looks at you briefly before returning to the road.
“It’s easy being your friend, but to be your boyfriend? That scares me.”
You get it. Opening your heart, being vulnerable, and giving your everything to one person is terrifying. Sometimes, it feels like days, months, and years are wasted with one person when it doesn’t work out.
“Scared you’d screw it up?” you ask, turning to him.
Jungkook hums as he pulls up to your apartment complex.
With a sigh, you admit, “You were on your way to being a pretty good boyfriend.”
You hate that you found him so sweet and cute, even after everything that’s happened.
“I was?” he questions with widened eyes and turns off the ignition. He shifts to face you.
“Yeah,” you chuckle. Your hand lingers on the door handle. “Walk me up?”
The two of you are on opposite sides of the elevator. Jungkook’s leaning on the metal bar behind himself with his legs crossed in front of him.
He hangs his head before looking up at you. "What if I had been truthful from the beginning? Do you think we would’ve been together?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “I don’t know, Kook. I guess we’ll never know.”
When the elevator arrives at your floor, it chimes, and you exit, and Jungkook follows. You stop outside your door, watching as Jungkook leans his shoulder against the wall, facing you.
You can tell when something is brewing in Jungkook’s mind. You’ve been friends long enough for you to notice some tendencies.
With an eyebrow lifted and his tongue poking through the inside of his cheek, he’s ready to lay something on you. He licks his lips, eyes flick to yours.
“Tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says.
You can feel your stomach somersaulting when he doesn’t break eye contact. Your heart rate rises as you work harder to pump more blood than usual.
There were small, fleeting moments where you could picture yourself with him: weekend mornings with breakfast in bed and late-night cuddles on the couch.
“I’m trying my hardest not to feel something,” you confess. As much as he was scared to screw it up, so were you. You’ve never dated a friend. You’ve met all your ex-boyfriends through mutual friends. You’ve built fantasies of what a perfect boyfriend and relationship should look like, and Jungkook wasn't perfect–but neither were you.
Jungkook moves closer. “So you like me too?” His eyes dart from your parted lips to your eyes.
“I don’t not like you,” you say softly, stepping forward as you play with his silver chain.
"So where does this leave us?" He’s searching your face for an answer.
As always, your heart is at war with your head. The sensible thing to do is to stay friends. The foolish thing is to see how this could pan out. What if you could get your happily ever after?
"What would you do if I was yours?" you ask.
"If you were mine?"
You hum.
"If you were mine, I'd spend every waking minute with you. Asking anything and everything that comes to mind. I want to know what makes you happy and sad. I want to know what you love and hate. I want to know everything your heart desires." Jungkook eliminates the distance. "I'd pepper you with kisses all day–on your neck, cheeks, forehead, lips–everywhere,” he says softly as his eyes never leave yours. "If you were mine, I'd never lie to you again. I'd love you with every breath and never let you go." He’s eye to eye with you, hands cupping your face. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you. I was an idiot for not saying anything sooner. But if this is the only time I could be with you, I'll take it."
You gulp. Jungkook’s saying all the right things, everything a girl could want. You hate it. You hate that you’re a sucker for heartfelt moments and love confessions. Neverending cartwheels occupy your stomach. The little gymnast in there is going for the gold–doing back flips and leaps; there’s no way to stop them. Your heart beats faster for him than for anyone else–even more than Namjoon.
All it took was a silly agreement and a few lies to make you realize you didn’t want a perfect boyfriend or relationship. Forget getting married by a certain age. Forget the expectations of you instilled by society. This boy was a bit messy, a bit ruined, but a beautiful disaster.
Whatever it looked like, you wanted him.
You take another second to look at him because what you want to say next will change your friendship.
“Kiss me,” you say softly, your gaze dropping to his lips.
“Are you sure you want me to kiss you?”
You nod.
If there’s one more thing to add to Jungkook’s list of fears—it’s ruining your friendship.
“I won’t be able to stop if I do,” he whispers.
Restless is how you would describe Jungkook. Restless when it came to telling your exes lies. Restless in his ability to sit still. Restless as he chews on his bottom lip–it could be how he incessantly licks his lips or just lacks hydration. You’ve never noticed before how badly he needs chapstick.
But Jungkook’s within touching distance of your lips, and all you can think about is how much he needs chapstick. Your sweet peach one, you think.
Maybe you should offer him some.
“Then don’t.”
It’s slow and gentle when he kisses you. He’s taking his time. There’s no urgency. No tongue, no hands beneath your shirt, or roaming your body. Nothing like that.
It’s like he’s been waiting so long to do this. It’s like he’s forgotten any other mouth existed but yours. You’ll forget your name or where you are when you finally break away from his lips.
He consumes every thought you have, and this is what you were afraid of–that you’ll become addicted to his kisses. You’re unsure how long you can stand before he has to carry you to bed.
His breath is warm and sweet. You love him breathing life into you and taking it away over and over. Your hands curl into his shirt, tugging him as close as possible. Tilting your head, you open your mouth to catch more air before kissing him again. Lips upon lips are discovering each other.
Jungkook pulls away, his nose nudging yours. He kisses the corner of your mouth and your cheek. He’s on his tippy toes, kissing your eyelids, then your forehead.
“Okay–don’t stop,” you say, breathless, reaching for another kiss. “It’s for scientific reasons.”
He chuckles. “Are you researching how long someone can go without breathing?”
“Mmhm.” You reach again, but he pulls back, making you pout.
“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, ‘Where does this leave us?’ he asks.
You realize he won’t kiss you until you answer him. You cock your head to the side. “I like you, but it will take a minute for me to trust you again.”
Jungkook nods. “Mm, I get that. So…?”
“So–we should take this slow and see where it goes.”
He sucks in his lips, trying to suppress a smile. “What about Namjoon?”
The two of you hear someone clearing their throat, and you look in their direction as they appear from the hallway. It’s Namjoon, giving you a quick wave.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says as he walks to his door. “I saw you guys when I turned the corner, but then I ducked back into the hallway, waiting for you to…finish.” Namjoon presses his lips together into a smile.
You turn to Jungkook. “I’ll be one second.”
With a sprint in your step, you head toward Namjoon. “I’m so sorry you saw that.”
Namjoon laughs. “Why are you sorry? I knew I didn’t have a chance against Jungkook. I was waiting for you to realize you wanted to be with him.”
Your eyes widened. “You knew?”
His eyebrows raise, and he nods. “Mmhm.” He leans forward. “We had fun, but look at the guy.” Namjoon glances at Jungkook. “I would’ve felt like the back-up until you two got your shit together. You don’t have to worry about me. Go–he’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks Namjoon.” A sense of relief rushes over you, and you’re thankful he understands.
Returning to Jungkook, you’re no longer looking at your back-up plan. He’s the one you want to wake up next to, the one you want to laugh with, smile with–he’s become your first choice.
He extends his hand for yours. “So, should I get my tux pressed?”
You deadpan.
“We’re practically engaged now, right?” he jokes before leaning in for a kiss.
You press your finger into his taut chest, pushing him away. “Be fucking for real, Jungkook. We’re going inside and watching my favorite rom-com–While You Were Sleeping, so you can see the consequences of how lying gets you in trouble.”
“Oh, I love that one! It's the one where she pretends to be engaged to the guy in a coma, but she falls for the brother?”
You slowly turn to him, mouth agape. “You really have seen a lot of rom-coms, haven’t you?”
“I may have learned a thing or two from them.”
“Yeah–lying!” You scold him as you enter the apartment. The two of you continue bickering back and forth.
Who knew you’d be living in a romantic film of your own?
the, progressive, sex positive, monogamous, comfortable in his own skin, going to do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants with no guilt or shame, authentic, jungkook era that he is in right now is a blessing to witness.
DRABBLE FOR: ROMANTIC DREAMS but you don’t have to read it, this drabble can stand alone
summary: hours before his birthday, his friends force him to come out for a night of drinks only for him to be mad the entire time that you’re ignoring him. he comes home early worried you might’ve left but what he saw instead made his birthday all the better when the clock strikes midnight.
warnings: smut. birthday sex. jk is at the club but misses oc lol. 3.8k words
The feeling he got anytime he came out for drinks with his friends never changed. It always felt suffocating to him from the crowds of drunk people all against each other to the overly loud music he couldn’t even pay attention to. It was overwhelming, to say the least.He hated the looks he got and the way people tried to talk to him. He hated how loud his friends were and how they felt the need to bring him up to complete strangers like any of it matter. It’s his birthday weekend, you wanted him to celebrate with all of his friends and yet he couldn’t care less about any of that. He was more interested in finding out why you weren’t here tonight and why you weren’t answering your phone.
“Come on man, just one drink and then you’re free to crawl back to Y/n,” Jin joked as he patted the guy on the back, “But we want to hang out with you for your birthday at least once.”
“Y/n’s not answering the phone,” Jungkook warned as he was led to the bar, “So I’m probably just gonna head out.”
“Dude, Y/n’s not a kid, you don’t have to watch her every five seconds,” Namjoon asked, “Don’t get me wrong, wanting to spend time with your girlfriend is the bare minimum but don’t you think you go overboard sometimes? It would not kill you to be away from her for one night.”
Jungkook didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened as he eyed his friend closely. Namjoon just shrugged despite how blunt he sounded and that only seemed to annoy Jungkook more. Who was he to say that?
Jungkook does not go overboard, alright?
He trusts you… of course he does… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still think about you leaving him. Something in his gut tells him that if you ever try to break up with him you won’t tell him, you’ll just leave and he’ll have no clue where you went.
He thinks you’ve finally grown to love him almost as much as he loves you but he just can’t get over the amount of times you told him you were done. The amount of times he’s had to remind you you’re not going anywhere and neither is he.
He’s gotten better too, he no longer has cameras set up and maybe that’s why he always feels so anxious when you don’t answer. All he’s got is your location so he knows you’re at home, so why won’t you answer his texts?
“Kook?” Namjoon called out to him as he stood at the bar as if he hadn’t just yelled at him, “What do you want to drink?”
“Jungkook?”
He yelled at his friend to get him anything, hearing the call of his name but not bothering to turn and acknowledge it. A small poke on his arm made him take a deep breath and turn to whoever was trying to catch his attention.
“It is you,” She said softly, “Oh my god, it’s been so long. W-y-you just stopped talking to me.”
“Do I know you?” Jungkook looked down unimportant. He actually did have a small recollection of her. They met over a year ago and hooked up a couple times but that was it. He was horny and she was easy.
She looked taken back, “Yeah. You do, asshole.”
He didn’t respond to her, simply glanced down at her angry expression and scoffed as he looked to his friends. They were all busy buying drinks and Jungkook did not care about any of that. He’s been with them since he got off work. They didn’t even let him go home to see you and tell you to go out for drinks. They showed up at the shop, hurried him to close and dragged him to the closest bar. He’s tired of it all. His birthday is tonight and the person he wants to spend it with isn’t answering their damn phone and he’s just starting to get pissed off.
“Okay, here’s yo—“
“I’m leaving,” Jungkook told Namjoon, handing him back the drink, “I’m tired and we’ve been out for hours already. I want to go home.”
Namjoon checked the time biting his lip, he was supposed to stall Jungkook from getting home per your orders and it’s been difficult all night to keep him from running to you. He’s never seen his friend so… in love [?], is that the right word for it? His need to know where you are, why you aren’t talking to him, who you’re with, was intense. Namjoon just knows Jungkook is at his limit with you ignoring him. All he could do was nod his head and give up, “Alright, can you drive?”
Jungkook only had one drink and even then he didn’t finish it before they tried getting him another so he felt fine. He was just bothered that you’ve yet to reach out to him.
He made an attempt to call you, one last time, as he got in his car but like before you didn’t answer and he can feel his patience running extremely thin. Why weren’t you answering him?
The first thing Jungkook noticed when he got back to your shared apartment was how dark it was. Usually [especially now that he’s made the place his own now], the apartment had a dark aura to it. It probably had to do with the mixed decor the two of you had up like his black sketches of skulls and serpents next to your framed photographs of Baby’s Breath and lavender. He’s used to it by now but right now… it’s too quiet…
“Y/n?” Jungkook called out and you could hear the growing annoyed panic in his voice. He dropped his things from work down to the ground without any care. He hasn’t seen you since before he went to the tattoo shop in the morning and now it’s almost midnight and you’re nowhere to be seen.
As Jungkook turned down the hallway, he seemed to freeze. Just below his feet where he hadn’t noticed them before, laid a trail of black rose petals. He followed them with his gaze seeing them disappear under the closed bedroom door where he could see a hue of red lighting inside. With a curious tilt of his head, he walked along the petals, twisting the knob on the door and immediately feeling his heart race.
Your bedroom which had become a concoction of gothic knickknacks and floral patterns, was a deep shade of red. His vinyl played one of his favorite Deftones songs, Mascara, and there you were.
He stopped at the door, eyes taking in the sight around him but all he could do was look down at you surrounded by candles littered across the room and music playing softly to set the mood and suddenly he wasn’t angry anymore. You had been ignoring him all night and that drew him insane but seeing you laying in bed wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set made him forget all about that anger.
“So this is why you weren’t answering my calls?” Jungkook asked despite feeling giddy inside from all of this. Your lingerie was thin and fitted, it hugged you in all the right places and you looked so inviting with your legs slightly spread open for him, laying in a petal of black roses. You didn’t say anything, only lifted a single finger toward him and motioned for him to move closer.
Your boyfriend was never much for the theatrics, he liked doing it too much to wait, so you weren’t surprised at all when he reached for the back of his black shirt and yanked off over his head exposing his muscles, torso and nipple piercings. His tattooed hands unzipped the front of his black jeans and kicked them off immediately before walking toward the bed with a dark look in his eyes.
“I wanted to surprise you,” you said sitting up a little when he brought a hand to the back of your neck after crawling over your body to kiss you, “But you’re always so impatient.”
“You were ignoring me,” Jungkook whispered against your lips as he sighed softly into the kiss, “I don’t like when you ignore me.”
“So you’re not happy with the surprise?” You asked despite knowing the answer. Jungkook has only just now gotten undressed and you can already see the growing bulge in his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook looked down at your pliant body laying pretty underneath him, unable to help himself from dragging his index finger over the tip of your nipples that peaked through the sheer fabric, “I love it, just dlike nt ignore my texts again, okay?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as he kissed along your neck lovingly, his teeth softly nipped at the skin until his tongue was running over the marks soothingly. He was already on top of you trying to control the situation and you put a hand on his chest to move him off. His brows furrowed as you began to say up forcing him to do the same, “Why don’t you lay down and let me take the lead for once, yeah?”
“Bab—“ his words died down when your finger tugged at one the bar piercing on his nipple. He looked down watching your finger circle around it teasingly scratching against him and he was folding. Now that Jungkook had relaxed a little, you took the chance to move him to lie on his back, straddling hips as his hands found your waist to hold you there. He set you down directly over his hardening length, letting you slide against it for a moment’s worth of friction. Jungkook always got so easily turned on when it came to you. He could be at work doing a tattoo on someone and suddenly he’ll remember what the two of you did the night before, how he fucked you on the kitchen counter or ate your pushy in the bathtub. Sometimes it didn’t even have to be about sex. He would think about seeing you fresh out the shower or wearing a shirt of his and nothing underneath.
“Y/n,” Jungkook sighed once he felt you lean down for a kiss. It was an open mouth kiss with your tongue pushing into his sloppily the way he liked it, your hands scratching down his ribbed sides feeling every muscle in their path. When you pulled your lips away from his, a line of drool connected your mouths and dribbled down to his chin when you kissed along his jaw. Jungkook’s hands couldn’t sit still, they needed to feel all of you. Your lingerie bottoms were nothing but a lacy thin thong that left little to the imagination but looked good nevertheless. He slid his hands over your butt, big hands pinching and helping any part of you that he could, occasionally making your covered cored grind against his dick. A low moan left his lips when you sucked on his neck leaving a trail of love bites in your wake, moving down to his collarbone and chest.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you said teasingly as you lucked over his abused nipple that you had been tugging on. Jungkook’s breath hitched when you circled it with your tongue, sucking softly and nipping at the metal with your teeth.
“Always,” Jungkook sighed, squirming a bit as you kissed between his abs down toward his navel, fingers already sinking into the hem of his briefs, “You always make me feel good.”
“Mhm,” you hummed in content, sliding yourself off his lap until you sat perfectly between his spread, muscular thighs, “You always make me feel good too, baby.”
It’s true too. He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, even if you used to resent him for being the way he was then; there’s no point in still feeling that way when you really do love him—whether it be healthy or not is still up for debate.
Jungkook tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, playing with his lip ring as you yanked his briefs down with a bit of force that had him groaning at the toughness. He’s not used to you taking the initiative, maybe you’ve done it once or twice but never dressed like this in a red and black room made for sex.
You looked down at his length, not surprised at all by the sight of it. Jungkook was hard, his dick was thick and flat against his navel, throbbing under your stare. It twitched like it wanted to point upward but he wasn’t there yet. He needed a little more attention still.
You placed your hands on his thighs for support as you leaned forward to be face to face with his cock, pursing your lips like you were gonna kiss it before blowing air. Jungkook had to rest on his elbows to be able to sit up enough to see what you were doing, just barely catching the sight of you reaching further down and flattening your tongue against his balls teasingly until you licked the underside of his cock too. Immediately his arms gave way and he was laying back down on the bed, eyes squeezed shut.
You wrapped a hand around his base, angling his cock to point upward before running your tongue along the side once more like he was a melting ice pop. You could see his lip pulled between his teeth and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation making you smirk. Jungkook always knew how to make you feel good and it was a boost to your ego to know that you too knew what made your boyfriend feel good. As his cock stood straight now, you licked along his tip, circling around the head and feeling him throb in your first when you sucked softly against his slit that produced precum.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned as he let his head fall back against rhe pillows with his hands tucked under his neck, hips raising with need to meet your mouth and make you take his cock down your throat. You grinned at the disheveled sight of your boyfriend that was caused by a little teasing and lowered your head starting back down over his balls where you knew he liked to feel your tongue first. Jungkook liked things sloppy, a bit rough and nasty. He loved having his balls played with, feeling your tongue swipe along them, sucking one into your mouth and tugging while fisting his cock. It’s exactly what you did tonight, you paid extra attention to his balls feeling his thighs tighten around you when you began to stroke his dick.
Jungkook was in ecstasy, his cock no longer needed your hand to make him stand straight, he was hard enough to do it on its own and you dug your nails into his thighs when you finally began to take him all into your mouth. A loud moan left his lips at the warm sensation of your spit coating his member, making it easier to slide him into your mouth. He could feel you try and relax your throat all around him and although the wanted to let you take your time, he was so fucking horny. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up, forcing you to take more and more of him at a quicker pace.
You shook your head no, cock in your mouth and a hand flat against his pelvis to hold him down, “Just relax, baby, I got this.”
He huffed impatiently, nodding his head as he tried to calm down, lips parting in surprise when you took him all in one go. If your mouth wasn’t full with his dick, you would’ve been smiling at the way he so easily turned to mush underneath you. You wasted no time in teasing him anymore, bobbing your head up and down while your fist strokes whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand was fondling his balls avain, squeezing them, massaging them, rubbing them against each other as you made obscene noises with your throat as you fucked him into your mouth. Jungkook’s hands closed in tight fists over the bed sheets, body caving in with how good your mouth felt on him and he was so damn close, “Fucking hell, baby, fuck.”
You could tell he was close by the way he became restless, thighs clenching and unclenching, chest rising and lowering with jagged and fast paced breath, lips drawn apart with moan after moan and it only made you double your efforts. You got rougher, faster, sloppier.
It got to the point where Jungkook had a closed fist over his eyes trying not to overwhelm himself with how good you were making him feel but it had become too much. He couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, Y/n, there, I’m gonna cum. Come on, need to feel you—oh fuck, baby.”
His head fall back with a loud moan, spurts of thick cum coating the inside of your mouth so suddenly even you were surprised by the amount. Jungkook’s body writhed on the bed, large muscular body twitching with pleasure as he came down your throat. You gagged at the intensity, pulling your mouth away and watching it coat his own dick in it, still softly jerking him off through his orgasm.
“You okay?” You asked lovingly, stroking him as you looked down at the mess you’ve made of him. Jungkook’s eyes were a deep red that made his gaze look darker under the LED lights. His lips looked swollen and cum was all over his pelvis but he was still rock hard.
“Y/n,” his voice grew hoarse, “Need you to sit on dick, right now.”
You smiled, laughing softly as you looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 11:59pm.
“Birthday boy wants to cum in my pussy?” You asked surprisingly. The two of you rarely had sex without a condom but you were on birth control and it was his birthday… your boyfriend deserved this. As crazy as he was, he loved you and you… well, you loved him too or else why would you have stuck around? And right now, you were too turned on to care about the consequences.
Jungkook didn’t have to say anything to have you lining his cock work your wet pussy as you slid the lingerie to the side so it wasn’t in the way. As much as Jungkook loved the way it looked on you, he needed it completely off of you.
His rough fingers tugged at the seams, easily tearing it apart as you pressed his thick head between your folds. You gasped in surprise at how easily he tore threw the fabric, yanking roughly until it was in his hands and on the floor, “Baby… I’m trying to be sexy here.”
“You’re always sexy,” Jungkook said not caring about the lingerie as his hands found your hips, lowering you down his length himself, “But I like you better with nothing on.”
“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, a small moan leaving your lips as this thick head finally made it past your broken hymen making the slide of the rest of his cock that much easier. Your hands fell flat against his chest for support as your feet pushed against the bed to help you raise your hips, his hands guiding you to bring them back down. It started off slowly, you began riding him teasingly only lifting yourself up a little, grinding your hips against his and doing it all over again.
Jungkook was fine with the pace as he took in the sight of your pretty tits in his face and he couldn’t help but move his hands to grope them, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his hips began to thrust up into yours making the slow ducking a little rougher.
“Jungkook,” you moaned softly as his thick length hit that special spot at the top, rubbing against your open folds and pleasuring you so well you almost forgot this was for him and not for you. He was at the point where he didn’t care about who was supposed to be making who feel good. Anything you did to him felt good and without a care in the world he pulled you down to lay on his chest, your face against his neck as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck you from below. Your body bounced against his and with an arm tight around your lower waist and the other groping your ass, he was fully taking control to bring you to your first orgasm of the night.
“Feels good, baby?” He asked in a low whisper into your ear, cock working in and out of your tight pussy. You nodded your head, kissing his neck between moans as your cunt tightened around him, “So good.”
Jungkook took the lead with ease, grinding you against his aching member, so close to release once more. The clock had strikes midnight time ago and his phone was being flooded with birthday messages but he was too busy to care. All he had wanted for his birthday was to spend it with you and his patience had paid off.
He came home to you dressed so fucking sexy for him and with a promise that he could cum inside and that alone was bringing him closer and closer to his second orgasm, not worried about finishing too soon when he knew this wouldn’t be the last round.
Your teeth nipped are his neck, nails scratching along his nipples as you tightened around him once more, “Jun—babe, I can’t… fuck, please.”
“Cum for me, do it baby,” Jungkook urged you on, lifting a hand only to bring it back down hard on your ass hearing you squeal at the slight sting but your walls tightened all the same. His cock was reaching deep into your count every time you took him all in and all it took was one final spank, for your orgasm to hit. You released a loud moan into his ear, hearing him grunt as you clenched around and finally you felt the warmth of his release flood your insides for the first time ever.
He was left breathless, cock coated in both your arousals as you pulled yourself off of him and you both watch his release mixed with yours dribble down your legs, immediately turning him on once more. You looked up at him, smile on your face from how good your boyfriend looked after sex. You checked the time once more, hearing his phone buzz and you ran a soothing hand over his thigh and pulling some stray black petals off of him, “I’m gonna get a bath going, how does that sound, birthday boy?”
Jungkook smirked, “Sounds good.”
“Okay, I’ll be back, why don’t you start responding to everyone,” you told him with a wink. When you left and he looked down at his phone, a small laugh left his lips.
joon:i hope whatever surprise y/n did for u was good bc u were a bitch to keep distracted
joon: happy birthday
joon: don’t have too much fun with your girl
::.
ugh everytime I tell myself I’m tired of romantic dreams Jungkook I just come back 😭anyways little bday drabble on KooK’s bday 🥺HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY
pairing: rommate!jungkook x bi! f. reader x bi!original character
genre: roommate au, fwb, friends to lovers, angst, smut [18+]
summary: Friday nights are for slumber parties with your best friend, Kari. A night of drinking, watching movies from your younger years, and kissing that usually leads to more. Jungkook is aware of your routine, leaving for a night out with his friends that he cuts short. However, he's in luck when Kari catches his eye and invites him to join the two of you.
wc: 7k
warnings: fwb (reader and oc), oc and reader have crushes/feelings for each other, alcohol mention/use, slight voyeurism, mention of m. and f. masturbation, marking (hickeys, scratching, biting), some self-deprecation(?), spanking, hair pulling, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. giving and receiving), ffm threesome, protected sex, multiple orgasms, choking, tit fucking, cum facial, snowballing
date: September 1, 2023
The moment Jungkook informed you he’d be out for the night, you knew it was the perfect opportunity to invite your best friend Kari over. Kari was a goddess in your eyes; absolutely gorgeous. She was shorter than you, with long hair down her back that was half black and half blue right down the middle. Her beautiful, sun-kissed skin had tattoos scattered on her thighs, chest, and arms. The day she stopped wearing bras and pierced her nipples was glorious; she was a beauty, and it made your legs go weak. Not only that, but she was an amazing friend and kisser.
The thought of your best friend made you giddy. Not only would you be able to have a sleepover like usual, but with Jungkook gone for the night, you’d be able to hook up and be as loud as you wanted. You weren’t going to lie. Having Jungkook’s room on the other side of your wall proved to be an inconvenience when Kari was over and you were in a mood.
“Call me if you need anything or want me to come home,” Jungkook states seriously. He clings to the front door, his head still in your apartment with the rest of his body out on the porch. You’re trying to shut the door, but his big ole head won’t move.
“Jungkook, I appreciate the concern. I do. But all we’re doing is watching Twilight and taking shots whenever Edward rejects Bella. You know, a typical Friday night?” you say and Kari nods from her spot on the couch. Jungkook looks at you and then at Kari, who smiles widely, waving hard enough for her boobs to bounce. Jungkook’s eyes widen, cheeks pink as he looks at you one last time. “Promise me you’ll call if you need me?”
You nod. “I promise, Jungkook. I’ll call if we need you.”
Jungkook licks his lips as he looks at you, nodding as he waves and finally leaves. You giggle as you shut the door, shaking your head.
“Got the drinks ready?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen to grab Kari’s favorite wine tumbler, a pretty glow-in-the-dark one that reads “Witches Brew”.
“Got it! Bring the wine coolers too!” Kari shouts in response. You pop open the fridge, grabbing two wine coolers before shutting it and heading to your bedroom. Kari is already lying on your King-sized bed by the headboard, her sleep shorts riding up on her thighs to display her tattoos. Thighs you hoped to be smothered with later on.
“Start it,” you tell her as you set your drinks on the nightstand before climbing under the covers with her. She waits for you to settle before she hits play and moves closer to you, easily draping her arm around your waist.
“He’s such an asshole, and for what? He ends up banging her anyway,” Kari scoffs as Edward tells Bella she needs to stay away from him again.
You laugh, earning a scowl from your friend. “He acts like he’s not gonna knock her up right away.”
“He’s misunderstood,” you say, knowing it’ll make her spiral into a rant about Edward and how he’s such an asshole. You love listening to her speak, so you listen attentively, nodding along and ignoring the movie playing in the background. The two of you haven’t even touched your drinks, both left forgotten on the nightstand.
“And don’t even get me started on Jacob!” she exclaims, her face flushed as she crosses her arms over her chest. She looks so cute, you can’t help but lean in and kiss her cheek. She flushes, turning into a stuttering mess.
“Keep talking, baby,” you encourage her, placing a kiss on her shoulder beside the strap of her tank top, her pierced nipples noticeable through the thin material.
“It’s just so dumb,” she complains as you cover her in kisses.
“Mhmm, dumb,” you echo as you tug the strap off her shoulder.
“Are you even listening to me?” Kari giggles as you look up at her with glittering eyes.
“Yeah, listening,” you smile goofily. She rolls her eyes. Her lips press against yours, so soft and sweet, it makes your heart somersault in your chest.
Friends, you cruelly remind yourself as she climbs over you. Your hands cradle her face, tongue pushing past the seam of her lips to meet hers.
The way she moans your name has your body thrumming as you kiss her once again, hands sliding down to her hips. Her arms wrap around your neck, marking your skin gently.
“Pretty,” she murmurs against your neck, moving to sit up as her hands lace with yours. Her soft gaze has you melting beneath her.
Kari had always been straightforward, and confident in each of her moves, and when all this had first begun, she was the one who had kissed you in the backseat of a rideshare. From the first taste of your lips, she had realized she wanted to be more, even if it just meant friends with benefits. Kisses shared between friends meant nothing, right? Right?
“Kari,” her name escapes you easily, hands cupping her breasts as she rolls her hips against yours.
She hums in acknowledgment, her lips trailing kisses between your breasts. Her hands easily remove your top, unsurprised to find you without a bra. Her manicured hands grab a handful of your tits, thumbs flicking your pert nipples, giggling when you moan her name in a heady tone. She wants you tonight, no doubt about it. She wants to be the reason you’re trembling, out of breath, and sobbing because you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. She wants you in any way she can have you and for now; it seems like friends with benefits is what works for both of you.
With gentle hands, you remove Kari’s top, kissing every new inch of skin that’s exposed. With a few giggles and bashful touches, your lips meet hers when you’re both topless.
She’s gentle with you. Her hand cupped your face as her tongue met yours, moaning softly against your lips. Your hands grip her hips, canting against her. You’re both dripping wet, eager to get a taste of each other…
Jungkook had half a beer before he decided he wasn’t in the mood to be out and get hit on nonstop when he was just trying to enjoy his night out with his friends. So with a sheepish smile, he wished his friends goodnight, reminding them to text him when they arrived home safely.
If he was honest, he couldn’t get you out of his head. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew what your sleepovers with Kari consisted and he knew he’d be ruining your night hooking up with her, but he just couldn’t stay out and pretend he was having a good time when you weren’t at his side. Instead, he goes home earlier than expected, hoping you can forgive him for coming home so soon.
His thoughts overwhelm him, lost in his own world, as he walks through the front door. He’s on a whole other plane as he kicks his shoes off, tugging his shirt over his head before tossing it onto the couch. He unbuttons his pants, intent on heading to his bedroom until he hears a moan.
His eyes widen, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. He pauses outside your door, guilt bubbling in his abdomen, knowing better than to spy on you, but when you moan, his brain short circuits and he’s pressing himself against the wall beside your bedroom door.
Kari looks at your bedroom door, wondering if her eyes are playing tricks on her or if she’s seen your roommate. She says nothing, eyes focused on the crack of the door, noting movement when Jungkook tries to sneak past toward his room.
Kari smirks. “Would you fuck Jungkook?”
“Obviously,” you respond, kissing down her neck. Not thinking clearly enough to wonder why, as she moans when you bite down.
“How about a threesome with him?” Kari asks, meeting Jungkook’s eyes, a sly smile on her lips as a moan of your name escapes her when you take her pert bud into your mouth.
Her fingers weave in your hair, losing her train of thought as your warm, wet mouth suckles her breast, tonguing her piercing. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, back arching off your bed as she moans your name.
Jungkook feels like a pervert watching from the door, cock throbbing in his tight pants. A groan escapes him, his large palm muffling it before you can hear him. He curses himself mentally, palming his cock with his free hand.
He was fucked.
So fucked.
Kari has an evil gleam in her eyes, finally making eye contact with Jungkook. He swallows thickly, unable to form words. He’s helpless. Frozen in his spot, obligated to hear your answer.
“I’d let him rail me from one end to the other. Are you kidding? Have you seen him? I bet his cock is big, fuck.”
“So if he came home right now, would you let him join us?” Kari asks, smiling devilishly.
Jungkook glares, but she ignores him, licking her lips instead.
“Obviously. He’s hot as fuck. You haven’t seen him walking around in just his boxers, Kari. He’s a wet dream come true. Exquisite,” You bring your fingers to your lips, blowing a kiss into the air.
“You can join us, Jungkook,” Kari calls in a sing-song tone that has you whipping your head toward your bedroom door where a sheepish Jungkook stands, hand gripping his cock over his jeans.
“I should have known,” you chuckle when your eyes meet his. His sheepish smile has you melting as you beckon him into your bedroom.
Jungkook trips over his feet as he stumbles into your bedroom, doe eyes wide as he stutters out an apology. “I wasn’t spying! I came home early, a-and the door was open.”
“Don’t care, come here,” you instruct, and he gulps before nodding and making his way to you. You get off the bed to stand in front of him, licking your lips as you take in his perfect figure. You find it hard to keep your hands to yourself but lock eyes with Jungkook. “Can I?”
“Yes,” he breathes as you run your hands over his shoulders, sliding them down his torso. Jungkook watches you closely, licking his lips when your hands grip the waistband of his unbuttoned pants.
Kari giggles on the bed as Jungkook blushes. “I was on my way to bed.”
“To listen and jerk off?” Kari asks as she crosses her arms over her chest and Jungkook looks away, cheeks blooming pink. He quickly realizes you’re topless as well and looks up at the ceiling.
“Jungkook,” you say his name gently, your hand on his cheek to make him look at you. “Do you want to join us?”
“Yes,” he answers honestly, nodding.
“Then don’t look away from us,” you tell him firmly as you place his hand on your breast. “We want you to enjoy yourself.”
Kari nods in agreement, going to stand beside you. Jungkook swallows thickly, the urge to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, becomes too strong.
Kari and you share a look, covering your mouths when you giggle. Kari is the one who speaks up, smiling brightly. “You’re not dreaming, Kook.”
You nod. “We’re surprised it took you this long to join us.”
Jungkook can feel his ears burning, a shy smile on his lips as he looks at the two of you. Had you genuinely been waiting for him to join?
“I didn’t want to impose,” Jungkook answers as you tug on his waistband, smiling at him before kissing him. Jungkook is quick to kiss you back, his hands gripping your hair to hold you to him while Kari sinks to her knees.
Jungkook moans against you, his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips when you push yourself closer to him. He groans when Kari’s hand palms him over the denim of his jeans.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, biting his bottom lip as he looks down at Kari, whose big brown eyes meet Jungkook’s hooded ones. You’re both so gorgeous, Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with himself. Sure, he’d dreamed of this moment time and time again, usually with his hand wrapped around his cock, biting his lip to keep from moaning your name, but now that it was happening, he was almost stunned.
“Koo,” you whine softly, a soft kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth. He turns to look at you, but you’ve occupied yourself with trailing kisses from his jaw to his neck, finally kissing the irresistible little mole that drives you insane. You run your tongue over it, sucking his skin and making him groan while Kari is palming him harder, adding more pressure until Jungkook is tangling his fingers in her hair, gripping the teal harshly.
Kari pouts, eyes meeting Jungkook’s before she’s tugging on your hand. You reluctantly part from Jungkook, dropping to your knees beside Kari with a wide grin.
Fuck. Jungkook’s mouth waters at the sight of you two down on your knees for him, eager to take his cock in your mouth. His head spins, tongue peeking from between his lips to swipe along his bottom lip.
Kari turns to you, capturing your lips in a kiss as your hands fumble to unzip Jungkook’s pants. Jungkook watches you intently with hooded eyes, lip caught between his teeth as the both of you pull his pants down his thighs until they bunch at his ankles. With a few hops and kicks, Jungkook gets his pants completely off, kicking them to the side on your bedroom floor.
“Ooh,” Kari gushes with excitement once she wraps her hand around Jungkook’s hard length.
“Fuck,” you curse, finally moving your hand to place on his cock. You’ve dreamed of this moment, unable to keep your thoughts innocent when it comes to your hot roommate. There were plenty of nights you’d go to bed with your hand in your panties and his name on your lips. You ignore the skip of your heartbeat, knowing getting your feelings involved leads to nothing but heartbreak. You weren’t sure you could handle Jungkook’s rejection as well as Kari’s.
Kari releases Jungkook, her lips pressing kisses to his hips as her fingers toy with the waistband of his CK boxer briefs. You stroke him over his boxers, feeling the pre-cum that soaks the cotton. Jungkook is overwhelmed with pleasure, eyes shut tight as he throws his head back; pretty marks left on his skin bloom with color.
Pride swells in your chest, knowing you’re the one who’s left your mark on his pretty skin. Your heart skips a beat, cheeks flush with heat as you realize you’re finally going to be with your crush. Sure, you liked Kari a lot. She was gorgeous. But Jungkook also had your heart from the moment he moved in.
However, you were willing to put those feelings aside if it meant you’d get to have him like this once. Just to get a taste of him.
Who knows if he even liked you past the physical aspects? Maybe he just wanted a quick hookup after all those times he’s had to cum on his fingers after a night of listening in. You frown for a moment, shaking the thoughts out of your head. You weren’t going to let anything ruin this moment, not when his cock was hard and aching in your hand.
Kari finally pulls away from Jungkook, giggling at the tiniest little hickey she’s ever made. You smile, pecking her lips before looking up at Jungkook, his lust-filled eyes already on you.
“Get on the bed,” Kari demands as she stops touching Jungkook, moving your hands off his cock.
Eager, Jungkook does as he’s told as Kari takes a second to kiss you, her hands cradling your face gently as her tongue slips past your lips and your hands are gripping her hands. Jungkook watches on in awe. He knew the two of you were more than friends, but seeing the two of you kiss made it clear that there was more to your friendship than just hooking up.
“Kook,” you say when you climb onto the bed with Kari at your side. You sit back on your heels and let Jungkook get an eyeful of your tits and hers, cupping them in your hands and rolling your nipples between your fingertips before Kari is kissing you again, pushing you onto your back and grinding her hips on yours.
Jungkook’s lips are parted, hand on his cock as he strokes himself. He bites his lip to keep some control over his rampant moans, eyes fluttering shut as he raises his hips to fuck into his hand.
There was no way this was happening.
When Jungkook opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see Kari naked, her panties on your bedroom floor. She’s unphased, her face between your legs, gripping both of them as she kisses one thigh and then the other. You play with your nipples, eyes focused on Kari as she flattens her tongue, swiping against the thin, soaked material of your pink panties.
“Kari,” you moan softly, hand gripping her hair as she does it again and then a third time before she pushes your panties to the side to get a taste of your essence.
You’re dripping wet, pussy clenching around nothing as you moan Kari’s name again and again. “Kari, fuck.”
Jungkook wishes it was his name you were crying out.
Kari smacks her lips, tongue swiping along her bottom lip as she looks at Jungkook from over her shoulder. “Don’t just stare. Do something.”
Jungkook blinks once before moving closer. He meets your gaze, his hand reaching out to cup your face as he leans in close until his lips capture yours. Slowly, the two of you kiss, his lips muffling your moans as Kari takes your panties off.
Jungkook ends the kiss, licking his lips as he settles behind Kari. His hands run over the curve of her ass, gently smacking it. Kari giggles in response, “You’re gonna have to do better than that.”
Jungkook smirks, his palm coming down harder on her cheek. It reddens underneath his palm. A soft curse escapes Kari, her moans muffled when her tongue meets your clit, swirling around it after.
Nerves eat up Jungkook. He’s dreamed of this so often, but truth be told, this was the first time he was in bed with two people. He was at a loss.
Kari paused her actions, taking Jungkook’s hand in hers before bringing two of his tattooed fingers to her lips. With her eyes locked on his, she sticks her tongue out, licking both fingers before taking them in her mouth.
Slowly, Jungkook pushes them past her lips, in and out, until Kari is drooling around them. Once she deems them wet enough, she guides his hand to her wet cunt. Jungkook only hesitates for a moment, your moan drawing his attention as Kari is back between your legs, talented tongue making you moan her name.
Jungkook’s cock throbs in the confines of his boxers. Biting back a moan, he focuses on Kari. He slowly pushes into her wet pussy, curling his fingers. He moans, slowly fucking in and out of her while her face is buried between your legs, her moans muffled as Jungkook fingerfucks her.
You arch off the bed, hands gripping Kari’s hair tighter than necessary, thighs shaking as her tongue circles your clit just the way you like. Her fingers work your cunt, familiar with your body enough to know what gets you off. You're a mess on the sheets, only worse when your gaze meets Jungkook’s heated one.
“Fuck, Kook,” you moan, biting your lip as you refuse to break eye contact. He never stops fucking Kari with his fingers. Instead, he adds a third finger and his thumb to her clit, smirking when Kari’s thighs tremble.
Kari raises her head, smirking at you as her fingers gently pinch your clit. Your eyes lock on hers as she licks her lips slowly, going back between your thighs as your hand loosens slightly on her hair. You curse, eyes fluttering shut.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses, breathing ragged as watches the two of you, making sure his actions don’t stop as Kari fucks back onto his fingers. She raises her head just enough to beg Jungkook to fuck her.
“Shit,” Jungkook nods. He ruefully leaves the two of you, climbing off the bed to grab his jeans and pull two condoms out. He sets one on the nightstand, noting your untouched drinks and setting the other packet beside the bottles.
“Kari,” Jungkook breathes as he strokes his cock, groaning when he palms himself. “Are you sure?”
Kari raises her head again. “Yes, please. Please, Kook. I need it.”
Jungkook nods, ignoring the way his heart thunders in his chest. With a tattooed hand, he holds the condom packet to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth with practiced ease. He still takes a moment to make sure his teeth haven’t punctured the latex before he puts it on. His hands shake as he does so, but he’s excited and perhaps a little nervous.
Kari is still eating you out with reckless abandon. Your sweet moans fill the bedroom and go straight to his cock. Fuck, he can’t wait to bury himself inside you as well.
Jungkook grabs a handful of Kari’s ass, cursing when it jiggles as he smacks the other cheek. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve two beautiful women, but he will cherish it for as long as he lives.
He’s gentle as he slips his fingers back into Kari, who arches into him, round ass nearly pressing against him as he teases her entrance. He uses her arousal to lubricate his cock further before he’s pressing the head of his dick to her cunt.
Kari curses, but it’s muffled by your thighs when you press them to her head, arching off the bed as you moan her name. Your hands grip your breasts, fingers teasing your nipples as your breath grows heavy. Your mind spins, falling over the edge as Kari grips your thighs tighter in her hands to keep you from squirming out of her reach.
Jungkook lines his cock up at Kari’s entrance, slowly pushing the head in.
“Fuck, Kari,” he breathes, head falling back, eyes sewn shut and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“Fuck, it’s so big,” Kari breathes as Jungkook slides home. His hands dig into her hips as she takes a moment to catch her breath. Her eyes meet yours and she’s nearly panting. “You were right.”
Jungkook raises a brow in confusion before Kari continues.
“He has a fat cock, fuck,” Kari nearly slumps forward, face first into your cunt as you giggle and help hold her up. You get on your knees in front of her, kissing her. Jungkook strokes Kari’s back, his hands moving to grab handfuls of her ass, spanking her while your tongue slips past the seam of her lips, tasting yourself on her tongue.
“I fucking told you,” you goad as Jungkook chuckles. He cards a hand through his long hair, his lip rings catching the light. You clench around nothing as you watch his broad shoulders, his chest tapering to his tiny waist and finally, to where his body connects to your best friend, and fuck, it’s a miracle you don’t cum then.
Jungkook catches your gaze, smiling wolfishly as he grabs Kari by the hips, pulling nearly all the way out just to slam back into her. Kari’s head falls forward, his name rolling off her tongue in a needy whine. You bite back a moan, focused on Jungkook fucking Kari, each thrust making her moan and curse. You wish it was you but you know you’ll get your turn so you lay back and watch, your fingers teasing your clit as you watch Jungkook fuck Kari.
“Fuck, Kari. That’s it, baby. Take my fucking cock. Just like that,” Jungkook curses as Kari meets each of his thrusts. You moan, the sound of their coupling filling the room, twining with your wanton moans as you work yourself to an orgasm. Jungkook smirks when you fall apart, his name on your lips as you lock eyes with him. Crying out for him and then Kari as you fall into the pillows.
“Fuck,” Kari moans and makes you scoot closer to her. She takes your thighs in her hands and licks you clean, moaning while Jungkook fucks her, spanking her just to make her scream into you.
Jungkook slips his hand between her legs, rubbing her clit and moaning her name when she clenches around him. Her moans grow higher in pitch, her body still meeting each of his thrusts as her legs quiver and her breathing grows heavy until she’s hitting her peak and cumming around Jungkook, near tears when he thrusts into her again and again.
Jungkook pushes his hair out of his eyes, focused as Kari takes every thick inch of his cock, creaming around him until he’s moaning, cumming into the condom as soon as she falls apart one more time. You follow soon after, Kari’s tongue a treasure as you fall limp into the sheets once again with Kari joining you.
Jungkook chuckles, taking the condom off to discard it into the trashcan under your bedside table. He’s sweating, his perfect chest glistening and you lick your lips when you eye his abs. Fuck, you’d lick him clean up and down right now if you weren’t so spent.
Jungkook is still hard, his cheeks pink as he wonders what he should do. Should he go to his room or stay and wait to see what happens?
“Come here,” you instruct him, patting the spot beside you. Jungkook nods, swallowing thickly as he climbs onto the bed. You kiss him when he lays beside you, your hand cradling his cheek. Slowly, the two of you kiss, his hands gripping your hips as you straddle him.
“Get comfy, baby,” you whisper to him as you kiss your way down his jaw toward his neck and down his chest as your hands greedily explore every bit of his perfect torso. Fuck, you’d love to eat off his abs, take his cock down your throat until tears ran down your cheeks. There’s so much you want to do but you’re easily distracted when Kari and Jungkook kiss above you while you continue to head down south, kissing and marking each of his hips.
Jungkook moans your name, grinning when you tease him with the tip of your tongue just to wrap your hand around him. Your lips plant a wet kiss on the underside of his cock, your tongue following after as you lick him from base to tip.
“Can I sit on your face?” you hear Kari ask and Jungkook eagerly nods in agreement, helping Kari sit on his face while your lips wrap around him. He curses but it’s muffled, enjoying the heat of your mouth as you tease him, your hand rolling his balls in your palm until you're popping off him with one last lick to the head of his cock.
Straddling Jungkook, you stroke him with one hand while grabbing the condom off the nightstand. You rip the package open, tossing the wrapper off the side of the bed before putting the condom on Jungkook. He groans when you squeeze him after, nearly drooling at how hard he is.
Slowly, you sink onto him. You moan his name, cursing and closing your eyes as you bottom out. Jungkook grips Kari’s thighs tighter, his tongue only faltering slightly. Fuck, he feels so hot, like he’s going to combust any second.
Kari reaches behind her, grabbing handfuls of his thick hair to steady herself as her hips roll, her clit rubbing against his beautiful nose. Fuck, you can’t wait for your turn on his face. You wanna suffocate him, have him begging for air as he grips your thighs to keep you in place, his need for you outweighing his need for air.
Your hands fall flat on his chest, your hips rising and falling on his cock. You love the ache of the stretch, nearly gasping for air as you sink on him once again, your hair falling over your eyes until you raise your head. Kari leans forward, grinding down on Jungkook as you lean to meet her lips.
One of her hands releases Jungkook’s hair and the other grips yours as she fucks herself on Jungkook’s face, suffocating him for all she cares as you fuck yourself on his fat cock, whimpering into the kiss as you take more and more of him.
You feel so fucking full and tears form in the corner of your eyes as you bounce on him, your kiss with Kari growing sloppy; nothing but teeth and tongues and pleasure for the three of you.
You tighten around Jungkook.
Jungkook grabs Kari’s round ass, his other hand reaching for your clit. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t get the both of you to cum while fucking him. He’s so overwhelmed with pleasure, Kari’s essence heavy on his tongue and your warm, wet cunt begging to be fucked full of cum, someday.
For now, he settles for the warmth and wetness as you cry out for him, nails digging into his chest while Kari’s thighs tremble at his head. He slurps hungrily, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Fuck, he’d love to see the look on your faces as you cum, using him for your pleasure and nothing else.
Jungkook’s cock twitches and you groan, riding him harder, faster as you beg him to make the two of you cum.
Jungkook curses; focused on nothing but pleasuring each of you. Kari is the first to go, screaming as she grinds against him, cumming so hard, she grows dizzy for a moment. She doesn’t climb off him, just scoots forward to help make you cum and kisses you for a split second before you’re falling apart again.
“Jungkook! Jungkook!” you scream. Kari climbs off him and he sits up, rubbing your clit, grateful he can see you cum on his cock.
“That’s it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for us,” Kari encourages in between kisses, biting the sensitive spot on your neck that makes you tighten around Jungkook as his hands grab your ass. He moans your name, eyes fluttering shut as his head lolls back on the pillow.
He licks his lips, forcing his eyes open to watch you crumble on top of him. Kari is guiding your hips, a hand between your legs, nearly drooling as she watches you cream around him, crying out his name and hers as your body tightens and you whine for Jungkook.
Jungkook curses. “Fuck, ride me, baby. Just like that.”
“So close,” you grit, ignoring the sweat beading on your forehead. Your hips meet each of his thrusts, crying out when Jungkook plants his feet firmly on the mattress.
“Hold on,” is all he says before he’s raising his hips to fuck into you. You cry out, nearly sobbing as he fills you to the brim. You feel him in your stomach as your thighs tremble to cling to his hips. Kari is moaning beside you, her hand between her legs as she watches, nearly coming undone just from watching the two of you.
“Jungkook! Kook,” you moan, nails digging into his abs as he cries out. You’d love to hear him moan some more, melt with each one.
Kari cums first, crying out as she falls apart beside you. You both watch with lust-filled eyes until you’re clenching around Jungkook, head lolling back, his name on your tongue as you cum wrapped around him.
Jungkook watches you intently, drinking you in fully in case it’s the last time. Mesmerized by the wanton look on your face, the rocking of your hips, and the way you say his name repeatedly. His heart skips a beat and nearly drowns out the last moan of his name that escapes you.
Once you’re trying to catch your breath, Jungkook smirks.
“Up for one more?” he asks. You nod, ignoring the trembling of your legs as he kisses you. His hand cups your cheek, and you melt into his touch, tasting Kari on his tongue.
“Fuck,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to kiss Kari.
“Come on, baby,” Kari guides you off Jungkook’s cock. She helps you onto your hands and knees while she lays beneath you. Jungkook settles behind you, his hands running down the curve of your back, focusing on grabbing your ass and spanking it to draw a moan from you.
Jungkook spreads you open, licking his lips before he’s leaning forward to lick you clean. You’re moaning into Kari, pushing your ass into his face as his tongue works wonders on your cunt. He’d love to eat you out all day and night until he can’t breathe but his cock throbs and he reluctantly pulls away. He lines his cock up at your entrance, pushing in and cursing when he bottoms out again.
“Ugh,” you whine as you bite down on Kari’s thigh. She moans your name, turning into a puddle under you as you lave your tongue over the bite mark. She grips your hair as Jungkook sets a comfortable pace, allowing you to feel him deeper inside. You arch your back, taking every thrust like a champ as he grips you tightly.
“Fuck, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook groans, eyes focused on where your body meets his. Kari whines under the two of you, slowly sliding out from under you to get to the side. She loves to watch, smirking as Jungkook fucks you harder. Her hands run over his body, pinching his brown nipples and he grunts.
Jungkook grips Kari’s teal hair, pulling her close to kiss her while you fuck yourself on Jungkook’s thick cock, crying out his name and begging him to make you cum while Kari pushes past the seam of his lips, moaning when he pulls back and bites her lip. Kari licks her lips as she whispers something in his ear.
Jungkook’s eyes widen but he slowly helps raise you. Carefully, he wraps his tattooed hand around your throat and you nearly cum at the insinuation.
“Please, Koo. Choke me,” you plead, nearly in tears as your hand rests over his on your throat. You add a little more pressure and Jungkook curses.
“Gently squeeze the sides,” Kari instructs. She raises his other hand, putting it on her throat and guiding him on where and how much to squeeze.
“Jungkook, please,” you beg. That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s squeezing the sides like Kari had shown him moments before. The effect is immediate, you’re fucking against him, taking his cock as deep as possible just to slam back down on him. Jungkook watches your ass jiggle as you use him for your pleasure. Your head falls back onto his chest and he leans in to kiss you, muffling your cries of pleasure as you finally let go and orgasm around him, squeezing the soul out of him.
Jungkook grunts, holding back as you cum and nearly sob when he lets go of your pretty throat. You look gorgeous in the throes of passion and it’s something he will engrave into his mind for as long as he lives.
When you finally come down, you’re panting. Kari giggles when you fan yourself, nearly collapsing on both of them as your thighs shake in an effort to hold you up.
“You didn’t cum,” Kari notes with a frown as Jungkook pulls out. He shrugs.
“No big deal.”
“Do you want to?” Kari asks.
Jungkook blushes but nods and says yes.
Kari nods as she takes Jungkook hand in hers. “Care to stand?”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook swallows thickly as he quickly takes the condom off to discard. Kari grins as she gets down on her knees.
Jungkook tongues his cheek, watching her with hooded eyes. He tongues his lips rings as he looks down at her, eager to make him cum. Her dark brown eyes are like melted chocolate, soft and comforting but striking when the light hits them just right. Her black and blue hair suits her. He runs a hand through her hair as she wraps her hand around his length, stroking him slowly. Kari leans forward to spit on his cock, using the saliva to aid her.
“Shit,” Jungkook curses, shaking his head. He’s so sensitive, just wants to cum but also wants to last as long as the two of you need him too, though you both look spent. You scoot closer to watch, licking your lips as you watch Kari’s skilled hand stroke him, her tongue teasing the head of Jungkook’s cock.
Kari grins, she teases him a little more, spitting and wetting his cock before she presses her tits together for Jungkook to fuck.
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, cock aching for release. Kari allows him to set the pace, licking and kissing the head of his cock when it gets close enough. She giggles every time Jungkook grunts and groans. His sweet moans hit the two of you hard until you can’t resist the temptation anymore and climb off the bed to join Kari on the floor in front of Jungkook.
“Fuck, please,” he pleads in a tone that sets you alight as Kari strokes him while you palm his balls, licking the head of his cock while Kari focuses on the parts you can’t reach.
The two of you kneel as close as possible, both tonguing at his dick. Jungkook throws his head back, moaning in pleasure, cock throbbing in your mouth when you welcome him in. You bob your head up and down, swallowing when he hits the back of your throat. Kari kisses his hips, thighs, moving down to lick and suck at his balls, mindful of her teeth and your head when you take him deeper.
You focus on breathing, your eyes locking on his when you look up. You slowly pull off him, lips and cheeks coated in spit and pre-cum and Jungkook thinks you look gorgeous. He guides you back onto his cock, grunting when Kari sucks on his balls, and then joins you in licking and slurping at his thick cock. He’s so close, his body thrumming with pleasure and the need to cum.
Jungkook grabs you by the hair, fucking into your mouth. You open wider, moans muffled by his fat cock on your tongue until he’s pulling out enough just to cum on your lips and tongue. You moan, eyes shut to avoid the sting of his cum. He chuckles for a split second before pleasure overwhelms him and he strokes his cock to milk every last drop.
Kari watches, licking her lips, and waits until Jungkook collapses onto the bed before she makes her move. She leans in close as you slowly open your eyes, grateful Jungkook’s aim isn’t bad.
Slowly, Kari licks the cum from your cheek. She giggles when you do, swallowing what’s in your mouth before you kiss her to share. Her moans are muffled by your lips, your body over hers when you push her to the floor gently. She cradles your face in her hands, moaning as you kiss and rub against her.
When you both pull apart, you’re panting. You smile at each other before crawling over to Jungkook.
“Can we lick you clean?” you ask as you place your hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s eyes widen before he nods.
The two of you are gentle with him. You’re careful with your tongues, watching him for any discomfort as you lick his cock clean, kissing each other when you meet at the head of his dick. Jungkook smiles, the two of you are just too cute.
Once you’re done, you both climb on the bed. Jungkook scoots toward the end of the bed with you between him and Kari.
“We should clean up,” you state but end up yawning instead.
“We will,” Kari promises as she cuddles into your side.
Jungkook hesitates but you drape your arm over his waist to keep him in place.
“Stay here,” you murmur as you try your best not to fall asleep. Your body feels heavy, well-spent, and satiated.
“Okay,” Jungkook promises as you cuddle into him and he pulls the covers over the three of you. Kari smiles, her heart sinking only a little.
You’re spent after taking Jungkook’s fat cock and receiving several orgasms. You easily fall asleep between Jungkook and Kari, curled up in her chest while Jungkook’s arm drapes over your waist.
Kari locks eyes with Jungkook, looking at you briefly to confirm you’re sleeping before she speaks.
“You better be good to her, Kook.”
Jungkook is taken aback. “What?”
“Be good to her. She’s liked you for as long as I can remember.”
“I thought the two of you…” Jungkook trails off as you stir but don’t wake.
Kari shakes her head. “No, I don’t do relationships, not the kind she wants. But I see the way you look at her and the way she looks at you.”
Jungkook nods, at a loss for words.
“Goodnight, Jungkook.”
“Goodnight, Kari.”
When you wake, you’re draped across Jungkook with Kari nowhere in sight and your heart crumbles a little.
Jungkook wakes when you kiss his cheek and he smiles, pressing his lips to yours and everything fades away. Nothing matters but you and him, even if your heart aches just a little.
summary: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.
genre: smut ; porn without plot ; best friends
warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up!!!!), extremely horny!reader, missionary, cocky!jungkook, doggy style, cum-shot, creampie, crying, overstimulation, kissing, reader asks her bff jk for a favor, they’ve never had sex before(w each other), kissing w tongue, annoying friends, reader is dared into taking the pill, fingerfucking, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, slight choking, bit of spanking, praise, slight guilt for fucking best friend, jungkook’s stamina (deffo inspired by seven), minors DNI
category: one-shot [part of the pink pill series]
wordcount: 9.1k
a/n: aaaand the first addition to tpp series is out 🥴 this was originally going to be a short drabble for jk but i liked the concept so much that i decided to make it a one-shot + write one for every single member. so see this as my first thought for the fic (not boring imo but the most basic one? if that makes sense) anyways, hope u enjoy!
— m.list & concept video
“What even is that?” you ask your friend, Lee, as you reach for the pink package that she just nonchalantly tossed onto your coffee table. You’re seated on your couch as you wrap your fingers around the piece of pink carton, uncrossing your legs once you have it in your hands.
Your eyes scan the white letters around the pink cartoon cat but you still can’t make much sense of it.
“I saw someone tweet about it. Essentially, it’s like viagra for vaginas,” Lee tells you as she leans back into the couch, a cold can of coke in her hand.
You can’t help but snort in mockery as you throw it back onto the table in front of you and say, “There’s no way in hell you actually believe that thing works.”
Your other friend, Yoona, walks out of your kitchen with another can of soda in her hand. She glances at the small pink package on the table as she plops down on your couch next to you, an amused grin on her lips.
Lee shrugs her shoulders as she zaps through the comedy movies catalogue on Netflix with your remote, her eyes absentmindedly shifting to the packaged pill. “I’m not sure. It was like 10 bucks on Amazon.” Her gaze lingers on the pill, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
You roll your eyes, annoyance bubbling in your chest at the fact that your friend is dumb enough to get scammed like this. “10 bucks? They just sold you some cinnamon powder in a capsule and called it a day,” you laugh, returning your attention to the TV as you throw your feet up onto the coffee table.
“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you take it?” Lee challenges you, pushing the pill in the pink package toward you with her foot.
Your eyes shift toward the pill. “You want me to take that pill right now?” Your eyebrow cocks up and you stare at it for a moment as if it were poison before turning your attention to her. It could very well be poison, actually.
A smirk stretches onto Yoona’s lips as she seemingly enjoys the thought of Lee challenging the most stubborn person on planet earth. Yoona leans forwards after sipping her coke, parting her lips to say, “Yeah, since you don’t think that it works, right?”
You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, hoping to appear unbothered. You raise your own drink to your lips and glance at your friends over the rim of your can. “I really don’t,” you say before you take a sip of your iced tea. “But Jungkook is coming over later.”
An evil look twinkles in Yoona’s eyes as your words reach her ears. “Ah, so you do think there’s a chance it works.” She’s proud of her little gotcha-moment but you make sure it’s short-lived.
She watches as you swallow too quickly, a low burp escaping your lips as you scramble to defend yourself.
“No, I literally don’t.” Why would you? Viagra is insanely expensive, to think it’s counterpart is available on Amazon for 10 bucks is insane.
“Then take it,” Lee tilts her head to the side, a shit-eating grin on her lips. “Besides… you keep saying there’s nothing going on between you and Jungkook. Why mention he’s coming over if you’re not fucking him and if you don’t think the pill works?” she adds, eyes twinkling with satisfaction as if she’s got you.
You place your can of iced tea back down on the table with a thud. “I’m not fucking Jungkook, you weirdo,” you grumble as you defiantly reach for the pill.
You and Jungkook have been best friends for years, they know that! They know how both you and Jungkook physically cringe and wince whenever someone mistakes the two of you for a couple. Now, they put the image of having sex with him in your brain and it’s weird.
(Read: Well, lately, it has been crossing your mind but it quickly gets ignored.)
You’re not dumb, you know Jungkook’s been popular for being attractive since forever but he was never really your type.
Keyword: was.
It’s not your fault, though! Jungkook has been growing out his hair and has been working out, his arm is covered in tattoos and he seems to be making good money as a freelance video editor.
“Well, if you’re not fucking him, can I? I don’t know what’s in the air but he’s been changing a lot lately. Like his beauty looks like it doesn’t even belong on Earth.” Yoona takes the final sip of her old drink after she says that, crumpling it up and slamming it down onto the table with an obnoxious exhale.
You can tell she’s saying it to get a rise out of you but you quite literally don’t care. Why would you care about who the hell your friend is fucking?
“Fuck him if you want, I literally don’t care,” you say quietly as you gather the empty cans onto the tray you brought them in. You actually can’t bring yourself to care about Jungkook’s sex life, in all honesty.
“See, you’re jealous! I bet you’re fucking.” Lee’s teaseful words and Yoona’s obnoxious giggles are starting to irritate you. Can’t they just accept the fact you’re not fucking your best friend just because he has a penis?
You glare at the both of them with a twitch in your brows, your nostrils flared and your fingers tingling with the urge to throw the empty cans of soda at them.
You make up your mind and say, “Alright, to prove to you that this stupid pink pill doesn’t fucking work and nothing is going on between Jungkook and I…” You pop the pill out of its pocket and place it on your tongue, swiftly swallowing it down with the rest of your iced tea. “Two birds, one stone.”
The room fills with obnoxious laughter and giggles as they watch you, shaking their head at your obstinance. “You’re so stubborn and so petty,” Yoona adds before taking a sip of her new coke after cracking it open.
“You really think the pussy equivalent of viagra would cost 10 bucks? Be serious,” you grumble in annoyance, throwing your feet up onto the table again and slouch further into your couch as you try to pay attention to whatever is playing on the TV.
They share a mischievous look but you can’t bring yourself to comment on it. “Okay, if you say so.” Lee brings her shoulders up in a shrug and drops the topic for now.
•••
About 45 minutes later as Yoona and Lee get ready to leave, Yoona nudges you with her foot. “Do you feel anything?”
“No. I don’t. I’m telling you, it’s not real,” you tell them in all honesty. You really don’t feel any different. You don’t show your relief, though.
“Bummer. I really wanted you to learn a lesson,” Lee laughs and blows you a kiss when you put up your middle finger.
You say goodbye as they walk out and you just return your attention to your TV, watching the sappy drama that Lee and Yoona are obsessed with for some reason.
After a few moments, your phone buzzes.
[7:02PM]
Jungkook
Lays or Pringles?
[7:03PM]
You
pringlessssss
[7:03PM]
Jungkook
Bet. Be there in about an hour
[7:04PM]
You
okiii
You mindlessly throw your phone somewhere on the couch beside you and rise to your feet to clean up the mess Lee and Yoona left behind.
•••
Well, fuck.
About another 40 minutes later, you’re starting to actually regret taking that damn pill.
You can’t fucking believe this. Your nipples have been erect for 20 minutes and you’re sure you’re in need of a change of underwear.
What the hell is in that pill?
You walk into the bathroom to examine your appearance in the mirror. The air knocks out of your lungs at the sight in front of you.
Your pupils are dilated, your cheeks and nose are piping hot. Your lips are swollen and a thin layer of sweat is draped over your forehead.
Your heart has also been beating quicker than usual.
You want to hump everything in your sight. Is this what it’s like for an animal in heat? Fucking hell. You’ve never been this aroused.
Your hand slowly travels down your stomach and under the hem of your sweats. Reaching into your underwear, your fingertips are met with a disgusting amount of pure stickiness.
If you weren’t wearing your sweatpants so low on your hips, you definitely would have soaked through the thick material of your sweats, that’s how fucking drenched you are.
What should you do? Take a quick shower? It’d be useless to shower now since the effects can last for days. You’d just continue to produce your body’s natural lubrication and you don’t have the time to be showering every hour.
Clean up and change your underwear? That sounds like it’d make the most sense but you’d go through a lot of panties in a couple days too. Maybe you should literally just wear a tampon?
Fucking hell. You should’ve never taken that fucking pill. Damn those fucking friends of yours.
Like a gag in a sitcom, just as you reach for your underwear drawer, your front door swinging open rips through your eardrums. Regret immediately seeps into your stomach for giving Jungkook your spare residence key.
“Honey, I’m home,” Jungkook jokes and the sound of him kicking off his shoes as he closes the door rings in your ears like a blaring alarm.
You want to drop onto your knees and scream until you pass the fuck out. Your eyes flicker between the drawer and your bedroom door. What should you do?
He doesn’t give you much of an option when you hear him searching for you. “Y/N? Where are you?” Jungkook’s voice rings even louder in your ears this time and you can hear him approaching your room. You internally cry out and quickly head towards your bedroom door.
You walk into the hall and watch as he stops in his tracks. He’s wearing a black beanie, grey sweatpants and a grey sweater with a plastic bag in his tattooed hand which you assume are the snacks he picked up on his way here.
Grey fucking sweats.
Jungkook has always been handsome but for fuck’s sake. Your core literally pulsates at the sight of him right now.
“Hey,” you breathe out and walk up to him, brushing past him and into the living room in a straight line.
“Hey… You okay?” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and quickly pinch into a frown as he follows you into the living room.
You quickly nod your head, hand on your head as you try to collect your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?” you say, trying to appear casual as you head into the kitchen to grab a can of his favorite beer.
The sound of the plastic bag full of snacks hitting your coffee table and his body plopping onto your couch doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “I’m great, work was chill.”
You place your hands on your kitchen counter and lean forwards, taking a moment to catch your breath but your breath is not steadying at all.
Your feet carry you to the living room and you carefully place the cans onto the coffee table, trying your best not to look at him in those damn sweatpants.
Jungkook has ditched the beanie and his long black locks are sprawled on the backrest of the couch as he has comfortably sunk into your sofa, hair messy and screaming to be tugged on. You have to fight every bone in your body to not climb onto his lap right now and grind into him.
Have some fucking decorum, he’s your friend. Not an object.
Your chest deflates as you softly exhale, making your way to the couch as you carefully sit down, hoping to the Lord that you don’t soak through your clothes. You normally sit next to him but this time you sit at the other end of the couch.
He aims his frown at you but you pretend not to notice. He doesn’t comment on it, though. You crack your new can of iced tea open because there’s no way you’re putting alcohol in your system with this amount of arousal pooling inside of you.
“What movie are we watching?” he asks after a moment of silence in hopes of deterring the awkwardness as he turns his head to the TV, his thumb pressing one of the arrows on your remote, going through the catalogue of available movies.
“Uh… I don’t know. You can choose,” you mumble as you take a few more gulps to distract yourself.
He frowns at your words but keeps his eyes glued to the TV. “I chose last time. It’s your turn to choose.”
“Yeah, sorry, I just–” you start, which makes him look at you, “just put that one on.” You wave your hand toward the TV and he turns his head to look at the one he’s landed on before you return your attention to chugging your iced tea.
“We watched that one 3 weeks ago.” He sits up this time. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to keel over,” he says, quietly. He sounds concerned and you sound fucking stupid.
You shake your head as the sparkling beverage burns your throat, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m fine, I’m okay,” you mumble under your breath.
“Are you trying to convince me or you?” he asks, “And why are you sitting so far away?” he whines as he scoots closer to you, his hand reaching out to grab your waist but you shoot up out of the couch and onto your feet, avoiding his touch by a hair.
The moment he touches you, you’re going to pounce on him. No doubt in your mind.
“No, don’t,” you squeal, taking a step away from the sofa.
Now Jungkook is really fucking confused.
He quickly stands up as well, a concerned yet confused frown on his face. He probably thinks he did something wrong which makes your chest tighten with guilt. “What’s going on? Why are you acting like you’re about to have a fucking stroke?”
You breathe loudly as you pace around the living room with your hands on your head and say, “I might.”
Jungkook’s breath abruptly hitches in his throat as your concerning words ring in his ears. “Wh– Huh? What? Should I call an ambulance?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s not like that,” you mumble before you finally turn to him, dropping your hands from your head and let your fingers fidget, picking at the loose flesh around your nails.
His eyes drop down to your anxious fidgeting before traveling back up to stare at you. “Then, what is it? You’re scaring the shit out of me right now, Y/N.”
He actually does look terrified right now, staring at you with wide eyes as his teeth absentmindedly play with his lip piercings.
You loudly exhale in exasperation and rub your forehead as you consider just telling him. “I fucked up, Jungkook, and I’m panicking,” you say, rubbing your eyes until there’s colored spots in your vision. “I never should’ve taken that fucking pill.”
You watch as his face becomes that of a cartoon character, eyes wide, brows raised to the stars, mouth twitching. “What? Pill? What pill? Are you high?”
You roll your eyes and grunt in annoyance with yourself for phrasing it like that. “No, I–” you groan loudly before cutting yourself off and heading into the kitchen. You wince as you shove your hand into the trash can, taking the ripped pink piece of carton out of the garbage. You stare at it for a while but already find yourself heading back into the living room before you overthink it and change your mind.
Jungkook is still standing in front of the couch, his big brown eyes still wide with concern and his bottom lip reddened from how much he’s been chewing on it.
You walk up to him and with a flick of your wrist, you toss it onto the table in front of him. He glances at the pink package before glancing back up at you but you’re already looking away with your arms crossed.
He slowly sinks back down and takes the ripped package into his hands to examine it. He reads the words for a few seconds but he still seems confused. “Female sexual enhancement and libido boosting? What the fuck is this?”
You groan as you drop to your knees on the floor across from him, in front of the coffee table.
“It’s like viagra for people with pussies and it’s supposed to make you horny as fuck. My friends dared me to take it because I told them it wasn’t real.”
He looks up at you through his brows, a mix of surprise and confusion still on his face. “Do you think it’s laced with something dangerous?”
“No, nothing like that but whatever the fuck they put in it is working. It’s fucking working,” you whine as you place your elbows on the coffee table in front of you with a loud thud, burying your face in your palms.
There’s a moment of silence between you two.
“So like…” he begins, trying to stifle a laugh, “you’re really horny? Right now?”
“Jungkook,” you groan, eyes shamefully looking up at him and you’re just in time to watch him clutch his arms around his stomach as he just obnoxiously laughs in your face. “Stop laughing!”
He chuckles for a little while longer before calming down. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never heard of this before. How are you feeling?” He places it back onto the table and returns the eye contact, still an annoying grin on his soft lips.
“Like I could fuck the fridge if it had a dick.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing maniacally, throwing himself back onto the couch as he exaggeratedly gasps for air.
“Jungkook! I’m panicking, stop laughing!” you whine, standing back up on your feet as heat rushes to your face, a lump of embarrassment forming in your throat.
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles as he wipes a tear at the corner of his eye. “You’re just so fucking stupid.”
You huff in response and glare down at him, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet yours and the single act of his black eyes drinking you in makes a curtain of lava drape over your already burning body.
You tap your foot against the floor impatiently. “What should I do?” You chew on your lip as you ask him the impossible question.
He simply shrugs his shoulders and leans back into the couch, hands on his upper thighs right below his hips. He’s not making this any fucking easier. “Masturbate. Or go get fucked.”
You wince, a thousand volts of electricity travelling up your vertebrae at his words. “Tonight’s our movie night, though.”
“Babe, you’re clearly not in the right headspace to be watching a movie with me.”
You internally scream at the pet name he sometimes uses when the both of you are alone. It never makes you feel anything in particular but right now, your stomach clenches at the pet name and you’re painfully reminded that it didn’t help your sticky underwear situation at all.
“Still, I don’t want to ditch you. That’s not cool,” you mutter as you take a seat on the couch, cringing as your panties stick to your core and your slick is undoubtedly smeared all over your sex and inner thighs. No matter how nonchalant he is about the situation, you’re too embarrassed to excuse yourself now to go change your damn underwear.
“So what? You’re just gonna sit next to me and squirm all evening?” he asks you, a genuine look of confusion on his face.
“Mhm.” You shrug your shoulders in hopes of appearing nonchalant and unbothered as you reach for the remote.
But you’re extremely bothered. Hot and fucking bothered.
“You can go masturbate, you know. I’m not going to act weird about it,” he tells you with a carefree air around him as he tears a bag of chips open.
His words make your pussy clench around nothing and you have to actively remind yourself to cross your arms to hide your erect nipples, despite the fact he has probably already noticed.
“I doubt masturbating will do the trick. Besides, it says the effects can last up to 72 hours. I’m not going to masturbate for 3 days.”
He breaks into a fit of giggles again, making you roll your eyes as you swing one of your legs over the other. It appears casual but really, you’re just looking for some friction.
“You’re so dumb for taking that pill.” He reminds you, as if you don’t already know that. He glances at you when a childish huff pushes past your lips.
Neither of you say anything else but the moment of silence is disturbed by the scrunching of the bag of chips in Jungkook’s hands.
You take a moment as you consider what you really want to ask him. Should you just say fuck it and ask him to fuck the shit out of you?
The idea quickly gets obliterated by your rational self and you finally choose a movie to play.
Throughout the movie, you notice Jungkook’s eyes on you every now and then. The constant crossing of your legs and arms doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he never comments on it.
You’re doing great until a sex scene starts playing on the screen. You suck in a breath as you watch intently, your fingers twitching in your lap.
The actress on the screen is crying out in – over the top – pleasure as the man pounds into her, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall exaggeratedly makes the frames that are hung up on the wall crash to the ground with a loud clatter. You know it’s all fake but that doesn’t stop the gushing in your panties.
“Y/N,” Jungkook chuckles as he motions for you to skip the scene but you don’t react to him.
You stare blankly ahead of you at the TV, sitting in silence. You can see Jungkook shaking his head at your stubbornness in the corner of your eye as he stretches his arm over your lap, reaching for the remote that’s next to your thigh. His arm is hovered over your lap, face almost pressed into your chest and his cologne is the final drop that has your head spinning.
The silence that falls around the two of you as you impulsively wrap your hand around his wrist – that’s reaching for the remote – is suffocating.
He instantly freezes, eyes glued to the remote that he had just wrapped his fingers around. He’s in an awkward position, lying on his hip and his arm stretched out over your thighs with his face mere inches away from your breasts.
You finally decide to speak up.
“Will you do me a favor?” you quietly ask him after those few moments of silence as you let go of his wrist, your eyes nervously glued to your fingers as you fidget with the laces of your sweatpants.
This time, Jungkook is quiet.
Jungkook is never quiet.
The tension is palpable and it makes you want to jump off your balcony right now. His silence is already starting to make you regret asking him.
He slowly moves back to his seat but you can’t see much else as you refuse to look away from your lap.
He finally speaks up and you’re conflicted on whether you’re relieved that he does or not. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking of me?” His voice is lower than usual. It sends a quick shiver down your spine and awakens the goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin.
You don’t even look at him and in response, you just stay quiet, your silence confirming his speculation.
You two sit in unbearable silence for what seems like a damn eternity, the obnoxious moaning coming from the TV is not making this any easier. Jungkook seems to be in deep thought before you see him rise to his feet in your peripheral vision. You swallow thickly as he starts heading towards the entrance hall.
Shit. He’s leaving.
You don’t blame him, though. Who the fuck asks this of their best friend?
You shut your eyes tightly, holding your breath as you patiently wait for the sound of the door clicking close to hit your ears.
But it never comes.
“Are you coming or not?”
His words shoot into your eardrums like a thousand needles and it makes your heart violently jerk against your ribcage.
You crack your eyes open to see him standing in the doorway of the hall, back turned to you but his head turned over his shoulder as he stares you down with an unreadable expression clouding his face. A frown climbs its way onto your brows as you slowly get up. Your feet take you to him on their own, body magnetizing towards him as your stomach bursts with excitement and your veins are set aflame with desire.
You shyly follow him into your bedroom as if you’re the one visiting his home. “Are you sure?” you quietly ask him as you enter your bedroom after him, closing the door with a soft thud.
He slowly turns to you, head cocked to the side as his black gaze drapes over your body and makes you feel incredibly small. “You’re my friend in need of some help. Why would I not be sure?” His face is a bit expressionless and his voice sounds different than what you’re used to.
Your brows pinch together at his disregardance. “Jungkook, this isn’t a usual request. I’m not asking you to drop me off at home after work or to delete an ugly picture of me you posted on your instagram. I’m–”
“You’re asking me to fuck you. I don’t see why it has to mean anything more than what it is. Sex isn’t that big of a deal, Y/N.”
You idly blink at him, listening to his blunt words as he casually tells you he’s down to fuck you. All those years of the two of you swearing you had never crossed any lines, how you don’t see each other that way, how you’re like family and this is what it’s come to?
The doubt glimmering in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him, evident by the crossing of his arms over his chest and the cocking of his head to the side. “Are you sure?” he asks you this time, his voice soft and his tone neutral.
You stare at him for a couple seconds but you’ve made up your mind.
You start walking past him, heading for your bed. You tuck your fingers under the hem of your sweats and wiggle them off your hips as you turn around to face him again, stepping out of the sweats pooling at your ankles. You take a seat on the edge of your bed and kick your sweats away, all whilst looking up at him through your pretty lashes.
You notice that his own breath is getting heavier. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he watches you slowly lean back on your hands, bending your legs at the knees and propping your feet up onto the edge of the mattress as you spread your thighs wide apart, allowing him to witness your extreme arousal firsthand.
Jungkook’s eyes drop down to what’s between your legs, the massive wet patch of slick on your panties and your inner thighs lathered in your stickiness make his eyebrows twitch.
“Is that pill giving you a major confidence boost too?” he mumbles as he walks up to you, referring to how you’re usually on the shy and modest side. He tugs his sweatshirt off and throws it somewhere on your floor.
“I don’t give a fuck about what it’s given me, I need you to fuck me like you’ve never fucked anyone before. Right now,” you say with a hiss to your tone as you ditch your t-shirt, leaving you in your sheer tank top and no bra.
Your erect nipples haven’t gone unnoticed by him and your words make him grunt in response. You watch as he starts palming himself through his sweatpants, body now towering over you as he stares down at you.
You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless before, when he’s working out or playing some random sport with his friends that you agreed to cheer him on for, from the sidelines. Even when he stays over or you stay over at his. So, his physique shouldn’t be surprising to you and it isn’t, but the sight of his bare torso right now drives you up the fucking wall.
He reaches for the hem of your panties, making you close your thighs as he yanks them down your legs. The massive string of slick still connected to your underwear makes him swear loudly, your panties aggressively tossed to the floor by him.
“I can’t believe how wet it’s made you,” he grunts as he places his hands on your knees and gently spreads your thighs again, eyes glued to your sticky pussy. “I’m pretty confident I’ve satisfied all the people I’ve had sex with but I’ve never seen anything like this. You’re fucking dripping.”
And you are. You can hear the splatter of a droplet hitting your floor and the embarrassment drives you absolutely insane.
You notice his hand tightening around his boner. “Fuck, I want to taste.”
You can tell he wants to touch, lick, taste you but you’ve already made it clear that you need him to fuck you right this instant.
“Jungkook, I’ll literally die if you don’t fuck me right now.” You lean back onto your elbows, eyes still staring up at him as he slowly starts tugging his sweatpants down his legs. Soon he ditches the Calvin Klein boxers too, allowing his erection to spring free.
Your eyes drop down to the dick in his hand, hard as a rock as he spits in his hand and strokes himself whilst eyeing you. His dick is red at the tip but darkens at the shaft, it’s not massive but it’s not small either. It’s just the right size. The sight alone could have you squirting hands-free.
You need to be sedated.
“I don’t have any protection on me,” he begins, “Are you–”
You cut him off. “I’m clean. Are you?”
You know Jungkook is incredibly responsible when it comes to his sex life but you still make it a thing to ask.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, upper teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he strokes his own dick.
“Good, ‘cause I need to feel everything,” you grunt as you reach for your clit. You drag your fingers up your wet slit and pull your fingers away from your pussy to show him the thick string of your slick that stays connected from your pussy to your fingers. The string doesn’t break even though you’ve stretched it out a few inches.
It’s your way of telling him you don’t need any prep because you are disgustingly drenched.
“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He takes a few moments to collect himself before he positions himself at your sex. He rubs the head of his dick up and down your slit, gathering your slick onto his tip with a hiss escaping his mouth. “Birth control?”
Your legs violently jerk at the sensation of the head of his dick rubbing up and down your slit. You could cum right now. “Yeah.” Your reply leaves your lips in a pornographic moan and you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it.
He positions his dick at your hole with one hand whilst the other supports your leg by the back of your knee. “Ready?”
“For fuck’s sake, just put it in already. I feel like I’ll come undone any second,” you whimper, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you pant.
A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest, looking up into your eyes for the first time since you showed him your wet pussy. He slowly starts pushing into you, his eyes watching your face as your mouth falls open and your eyebrows scrunch together at the intrusion.
A whiny groan leaves his throat as your walls wrap around him. “Holy shit. You’re so fucking tight. So fucking wet,” he mumbles more to himself as he starts pushing further in, the sweet moans spilling from your lips raising goosebumps on his arms as you clench around him, threatening to milk him of everything he’s worth.
He leans forward and hovers over you, wedging himself in between your legs as he keeps fucking into you. His hands are flat against the mattress on each side of your waist, the back of your knees bent at his forearms, around his elbows. You’re spread so wide that the sound of your soaking pussy is, at times, louder than the slapping of his skin against yours.
You cry out at the pleasure, it’s like your sensitivity has been cranked up to a hundred. Your senses are sent into overdrive, the tiniest friction has your head spinning because nothing compares to how you’re feeling right now.
You open your eyes to the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen, Jungkook on top of you with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed. He’s gorgeous.
Tears prick in your eyes at the pleasure, the head of his dick rubbing against your walls so good has you seeing stars. You can feel every single ridge, vein, nook and cranny of his dick as he fucks into you. Your walls tighten around him so well, your slick already making a sticky mess against his sex and your bum.
As if he sensed you looking at him, his eyes crack open and stare down at yours. His gaze drops down to your lips and before you know it, he has his lips pressed to yours. You’re surprised at first but your lips quickly work back, a moan escaping your throat which allows him to lick into your mouth.
After several minutes of making out and fucking, Jungkook pulls back to catch his breath. “Sorry about that but you feel– you feel so fucking good,” he grunts as he leans back again, turning you onto your side and lifting your leg as he continues to fuck into you.
You yelp at the switch of position, your fingers tightly wrapping around the sheets under your waist, watching as your leg slightly jerks against his chest but he restrains your thigh as he holds onto it tightly.
The familiar clench in your stomach takes you by surprise. Already?
“I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna–” You have never orgasmed this fast and definitely not from solely penetration before but this pill is working wonders.
Jungkook nods his head in understanding as he kisses your calf that’s up on his shoulder. “Cum on my dick, babe,” he says with a moan before he tilts his head back in bliss.
Fuck him for using that pet name.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, my God. I’m gonna…” you cry out as your orgasm drops onto you like a pile of fucking bricks, a million volts of electricity frying your brains and making your heart beat a thousand miles a minute.
You’re grateful that Jungkook keeps fucking you because your orgasm has never lasted this long before. Your legs are shaking, your hands are bunching up the sheets around you and your throat burns from the cries you’ve let out.
The continuous clenching of your pussy during your orgasm has pushed Jungkook to the edge as well, his brows furrowed in concentration.
His own orgasm approaches him as his thrusts get a little rougher, your breasts bouncing from the momentum of his hips slamming into yours.
Not long after you, he pulls out in one swift motion. It seems like he pulled out right on time because ropes of his warm cum instantly land all over your sex and stomach the moment he pulls out.
He reaches for his dick and pumps himself to milk himself of every drop, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he watches himself cum all over his best friend.
His hand comes to a halt and he collapses on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he tries to catch his breath.
After a few moments of silence and no movement other than the heavy breathing, you say, “Jungkook…”
He pauses for a moment and then says, “Give me a few minutes, I’ll be ready for round two in a bit.” His voice is quiet and muffled from being buried in the crook of your neck.
“Round two?” you ask him, a scrunch on your brows as you frown at the ceiling.
He slowly lifts his head, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah, you don’t wanna go for round two?” he asks, his voice is neutral as if he’s asking you about the weather. Doesn’t he realize he just fucked you? He’s talking to you with the sweetest look in his eyes as if he didn’t just give you most mind-blowing orgasm of your life.
“Well… Yeah. But I don’t expect you to,” you quietly say, blinking up at him with doe eyes.
“Nonsense,” he grumbles as he finally pushes himself off of you, his softening dick retreating from you. He glances down at your chest and looks back up at you. “Can I take this off?” he asks, gently tugging at your tank top.
Without another word, you reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head. He quietly apologizes as he takes it from you and uses it to wipe your body clean before tossing it aside. He knows you’re too fucked out to scold him for it.
Jungkook’s eyes immediately drop down to your breasts, his big brown eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. His hands reach up but freeze right above your breasts, eyes glancing up to read your expression and see if it’s okay to touch them.
Your eyes flicker with desperation. “Please,” you breathe out, encouraging him to go ahead.
He brings his hand up to his mouth and licks at his thumb, bringing it down to toy with your erect nipple. “Wow,” he whispers, closing in on your other breast with his mouth as he gently licks and sucks on your nipple.
Your moans sound pathetic, hips involuntarily thrusting up into his. It makes him chuckle like the cocky asshole that he is, his hand gently pressing against your stomach to push your hips down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this horny,” he states as he rolls off of you and props himself up next to you, leaning on his elbow to support his own weight.
His hand slowly trails from your breast down to your stomach and you’re already spreading your thighs further apart for him which makes him chuckle again. The tips of his middle and ring finger find your clit, the direct contact to the most sensitive area in your body sends a shiver down your legs.
Small circles are being rubbed onto your clit by his soft fingers and after a few moments, his eyes shift down to his fingers as he pulls them away from your pussy. “Look,” he says in a deep exhale.
You glance down at his hand like he’s asking you to. He’s showing you the string of slick that’s connected to his fingers and if you weren’t high off arousal right now, you’d be extremely embarrassed at how wet you are.
His fingers dive back in, sliding in between your folds and massaging all around before he plunges his fingers into you. This makes you thrust your hips straight up into his hand, a pornographic moan spilling from your lips.
“You’re so needy,” he chuckles, pushing you down as he starts furiously fucking his fingers into you, curling them repeatedly to assault your g-spot.
You yelp at the torture on your sweet spot. “Shut the fuck up,” you grunt, your reaction to his teaseful words makes him chuckle.
He presses his soft lips into the side of your neck as he continues his abuse on your pussy, not commenting on the way your legs jolt and jerk with every curl of his fingers but forcefully restraining you from writhing with his own body.
“Jungkook, I’m gonna–”
“Already?” he teases you, twisting his body so half of it is now hovering over you. You turn to look at him as you sob, the squishing sounds your pussy makes are loud enough to finally embarrass you. His face is hovering right over yours as his hands slam into your sex. Your hands reach up to the back of his head, pulling him down to press your lips into his so you can avoid his piercing gaze.
He wastes no time kissing you back, his hand picking up its insanity-inducing pace. White spots cover your eyelids as a strange sensation washes over you. It’s not an orgasm, you don’t recall ever feeling this before. You cry into his mouth and it takes you a second to realize you’re squirting all over your bed.
“Fuuuck,” Jungkook grunts into your mouth, the pace of his hand never faltering as it continues to slam into your sex. Tears stream down your face as your second orgasm quickly approaches you right after your squirt session, your legs continuously jerking and squirming under him.
“Jungkook–!” you sob as your hips involuntarily recoil against the mattress, your orgasm finally hitting you directly after your squirt session. Your hips running away from Jungkook’s hand doesn’t mean anything to him, he just keeps fucking his fingers into you, lips still pressed to yours as he swallows your pleading cries.
He hums against your mouth, lips wrapping around your tongue as he gently sucks on it. You aggressively squirm under him, your hands weakly pressed up against his shoulders and chest in an attempt to push him off. He finally gets the memo and retreats his fingers.
He can’t help himself as he pulls away from your lips, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, humming in delight at the taste of his best friend.
He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and sits up, looking down at the mess you created. “Damn. I didn’t know you could do all that,” he mumbles before running his hand back up your disgustingly wet slit, holding you down with his other hand to keep you from squirming.
You can’t even answer, you’re completely fucked out under him, trying to catch your breath.
“You’re not giving up on me, are you?” he quips, using his sticky hand to pump his growing erection.
Your eyes drop down to his hand, swallowing hard as you eye his dick. “Get on all fours, come on,” he says as he slaps your thigh, getting on his knees on your mattress in front of you.
“Give me a second, you freak,” you mumble as you prop yourself up on your elbows. You shake your head in an attempt to gather your thoughts but it doesn’t do much.
You finally turn over and lazily get onto your hands and knees, arms shaking and you try your best to ignore your slick trickling down the back of your thighs.
His hand comes down to knead your asscheek, a low grunt leaving his throat. “If there’s one thing I’ve fantasized about when it comes to you, it’s your ass,” he mutters under his breath, both his hands now kneading the soft skin of your bum.
“You’ve fantasized about me?” you ask him, glancing over your shoulder to look back at him.
His eyes glance into yours before they return to your perky ass in front of him, one hand stopping the kneading of your cheek to pump his dick and position it at your sex.
“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t,” he starts, “but it was only a handful of times and it was way back when we first met, no worries,” he adds, rubbing the tip of his dick up your slit. “I take our friendship seriously.”
It knocks a moan out of you and your arms already give out, your face colliding with the mattress under you. How seriously did you both take this friendship if you’re rubbing your genitals together right now?
“Have you fantasized about me?” he quietly asks you, a quiet hiss leaving his lips as he continues to rub his tip up and down your wetness.
You sniff, silently thinking about your answer for a moment before sighing and saying, “Maybe once a year.”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips at your response and he shakes his head. He doesn’t reply and instead pushes into you, groaning at the stretch again. “I literally just fucked you, how are you still so–” he groans loudly as he bottoms out. He throws his head back as he starts fucking into you but quickly tilts it back down to watch the skin of your asscheeks recoil against his hips.
Your pathetic wimpers make him reach around your hip, gently rubbing your clit as he starts thrusting into you. You cry out at the overstimulation, stretching your arm out behind you to push into his lower stomach in an attempt to push him off but there’s absolutely no strength behind the push because you don’t want him to stop.
“You sound so fucking pretty like this,” he grunts, fingers continuing to rub circles on your overstimulated clit and he pays absolutely no mind to your hand pressing into his lower abdomen. “Tell me how I’m making you feel.”
With another sob into your pillow, you shake your head at his request. He can’t possibly expect you to form a coherent sentence, right?
That’s until you feel a sharp sting spread through your asscheek, your ass recoiling from the spanking he just gave you. You gasp and lazily turn your face to look over your shoulder at him as you shout, “Jeon Jungkook!”
He leans over, his chest pressed into your back and his lips pressed against your ear. “Tell me,” he whispers as he pushes you forward, watching you fall flat onto your stomach, face pressed into the pillows. You’re now fully lying face down on the mattress.
Just as you turn to look over your shoulder at him, he has entered you again. The fact that you’re lying face down with your legs together makes him curse as he struggles to enter you all the way but he does, the feeling of being wrapped all around him has you seeing stars.
He places his hands on each side of your elbows as you prop yourself up on them, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear and his chest pressed into your back as he starts thrusting into you again.
“Jungkook,” you moan as you turn your face slightly, eyes staring up at him. His face is so close to yours, eyes glued to the mattress underneath you.
“Tell me how it feels, baby.”
Fuck. Why would he call you that?
Your mouth is agape and your eyebrows are furrowed as Jungkook keeps fucking into you from behind, his eyes finally shifting to yours. His proximity and intense eyes make you finally comply as you say, “It– It feels so fucking good.”
His black eyes penetrate yours and you can’t tear your eyes away from his. “You look so fucking pretty like this, Y/N, holy shit. I just wanna–” he grunts as he cuts himself off, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he keeps fucking into your tightness.
“You just wanna what?” you say, a soft whimper following your words as you encourage him to finish his sentence.
“Destroy you.”
A cry spills from your lips the moment he says that, the pace in which he’s thrusting picks up and it’s getting rougher with each passing second. At this point you’re almost getting hatefucked and you can’t help but love every second of it.
“I hope that’s a promise,” you manage to reply.
“Oh yeah?” His hand wraps around your throat from the back, making you lift your head up, the back of your head colliding with his shoulder. Your temple is pressed against his jaw as he gently squeezes your throat.
The sinful sounds such as his skin slapping against yours, the squelshing of your wet pussy and the moans spilling from your lips are the only things you can hear and want to hear at this moment.
Jungkook’s lips and nose graze the shell of your ear, quiet moans leaving his mouth and you can only describe it as liquid gold being ladled into your ear by angels.
“Fuck, come ride me.” He doesn’t even wait for a response as he slides right out of you, lets go of your throat and drops his body next to yours before rolling onto his back. His strong arms reach for you and yank you up by your arm and waist, pulling you toward him.
A surprised yelp leaves you as you’re forced to climb onto him, every single time your clit grazes his skin has you biting back a pathetic sob. You guide his dick toward your sex and without hesitation, you sink right down onto his sex.
He grunts at the way you tightly wrap around him, hands reaching for your hips. You start bouncing on him, thighs and ass slapping into his hips which makes him moan your name softly.
You throw your head back in pure bliss and place your hands on his thighs, allowing yourself to lean back on them and support your weight as you fuck yourself on his dick.
“Holy shit,” he mumbles as he watches your every movement, eyes scanning the way your face twists in pleasure, the way your breasts bounce, the way your stomach jiggles, the way pretty moans continuously fall from your lips.
He brings his fingers to your sex and rubs that pattern that you like directly onto your clit. He watches as your body starts jerking and your legs start trembling with a shit-eating grin.
“I’m gonna… I’m gonna–”
He cuts you off. “I know, pretty. Cum all over me,” he says as he continues to stimulate your already overstimulated clit.
You want to keep riding, you really, really want to but you can’t. Your body collapses right on top of his torso, breathless and a mess. He jumps right into action as he holds onto your forearms and pins them into your lower back, holding you tightly against his chest as he thrusts up into you.
Your face is buried in the pillow right next to his head, your cries probably deafening him as he fucks you toward your 3rd orgasm of the hour. Your body is moving like jelly at this point and you can’t contain your sobs as your body continues to tremble like a leaf in the wind.
Your 3rd orgasm hits you like a fucking train and you can’t even move, you keep crying in Jungkook’s hold as he mercilessly pounds his hips up into you.
Fireworks explode on the back of your eyelids, electricity fries your brain into a pile of mush and your body is set alight, all your nerve endings bursting with magma.
When you’ve ridden out your orgasm, a surprised whimper rips through your throat when you’re suddenly flipped, thrown onto your back against your mattress and your legs pushed back towards your torso.
He climbs onto you and slides right back in, ignoring your cries of overstimulation as he harshly fucks into you, his hands placed against the mattress right next to your ribs on each side of your body.
You weakly crack your eyes open to glance up at him, your gaze shifting all over his face. The layer of sweat covering his forehead and nose, his bottom lip trapped in between his bunny teeth, his eyes staring deep into your fucking soul.
“Where… Where do you want me to cum?” he breathily asks, his hips aggressively recoiling against yours as his own orgasm approaches him rapidly.
“Fill me up until you pass out, Jungkook.” Your voice is hoarse at this point, cracking at the end of your sentence. He knows it’s nothing more than a figure of speech but it’s got his hips stuttering for a moment.
“Fuck, you’re so…” He can’t even finish his sentence as he’s finally releasing his load, shooting ropes of his cum straight into his best friend.
“Fuck,” he curses continuously as his thrusts get inconsistent. His head drops onto your shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as he moans softly with each sloppy thrust, the disgusting squelching of his cum being fucked into you rings louder than any alarm. After his climax has washed away, he finally collapses on top of you, face nuzzled in the crook of your neck.
You stay like that, staring up at the ceiling as tears roll down the sides of your face from the pleasure, overstimulation and sensitivity still pulsating in your veins.
After a few more moments, Jungkook quietly rolls off of you and tries to catch his breath.
You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands and exhale deeply before whispering his name.
He opens his eyes and turns his head to you, humming softly in response.
“Thank you.” Is all you can say.
He shakes his head and props himself up on his elbows as he glances at you. “Don’t thank me yet. You said it can last up to 3 days, right?”
Your brows pinch together and your stomach bursts into flames. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I’m not done with you yet.”
.
.
.
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↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.
over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.
pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader
word count. 37.8k (it’s gotten out of hand)
au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.
warnings. mild cursing, alcohol consumption, suggestive and mature themes including the following: unprotected sex, spanking, choking, dom!jk, oral (f. receiving) mirror sex and car sex.
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series masterlist
one, two, three
author’s note. oh my god. to say i have written for a lifetime and got nothing in me anymore, would be an understatement. (kidding. i’ve got an entire series to finish) no but, to actually be able to finish this part of the series and publish it with pride is such a milestone for me. for over a year, i’ve been drafting and drafting, deleting documents and rewriting them, moving from concept to concept, pausing and swearing i’d never write another word again. really, i’m dramatic like that. and i want to take this little note as a thank you to @latetaektalk who’s been hearing me bitch over this for so long. who’s been reading draft after draft and even when she’s busy, was sulking about the fact that she was too busy to read it. but future doctors don’t read silly fics linh!!! they just scream whenever their friends scream and hop off to biology (?) class. i’m very thankful & proud.
Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.
You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull’s eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.
Series Summary: A look into the love lives of seven of the mall’s best and biggest fuck boys. With all of them housed in the same vicinity, nonsense is a guarantee, but romance? … just you wait and see 😉
Status: Ongoing
Rating: M for Mature.
Inspired by this hilariously accurate post by @takarrah
Pride and Fidget Spinners:
Seokjin has always prided himself on being the top mall kiosk salesman. His turf, the spot nearest to the fountain, is due to him being the undisputed best in the game. At least, until you arrive and throw his world into chaos.
A one shot by: @kpopfanfictrash
want a taste?:
pretzel pro. most skillful tongue in the food court world. allegedly. that’s what Yoongi keeps telling you, anyway. but if there’s one thing that motivates the notoriously-lethargic man, it’s proving skeptics wrong.
A one shot by: @suga-kookiemonster
Jung Hoseok: Foot Locker Team Member/Non-Driver
Hoseok’s gone from the hot, elevator stranger in the foot locker jersey to your carpool buddy since his car broke down… three months ago. As luck would have it, not only do you live in the same apartment complex, you also work most of the same shifts at the mall. It was all going so well too… Until last night when you groped each other in the parking garage.
A one shot by: @underthejoon
Kim Namjoon: T-Mobile (Assistant) Store Manager
mobile master. hot (and obnoxious) as fuck. in your humble opinion, namjoon’s customer service skills need massive improvement—but maybe he can make you rethink your angry call to corporate.
A one shot by: @suga-kookiemonster
Park Jimin: Certified RN/Mall Frequenter
Park Jimin is a regular at the mall. His best friend, Taehyung, works there and each morning after the night shift, Jimin stops by for his coffee. At least, this is the reason he gives when asked. It has nothing to do with the super-cute lingerie salesgirl he cannot stop staring at. Nothing at all.
A one shot by: @kpopfanfictrash
Kim Taehyung: Part Time Barista, Full Time Flirt
mocha maestro. a shameless flirt who always has the tip jar bursting at the seams. whenever you share a shift, tae’s great for your pockets—but honestly, the same can’t be said for your sanity.
A one shot by: @suga-kookiemonster
Jeon Jungkook: Personal Trainer/Perpetual Pain in the Ass
Jungkook is determined, you’ll give him that. After every shift, you hit the new gym in the mall and every single time he’s there waiting to proposition you with free personal training sessions. He plays innocent, but you’re no fool. Free sessions are just a means to get you into bed and Jungkook’s ego is big enough as it is. But you’d be lying if you said seeing him work up a sweat doesn’t do things to you.
