in which your casual hookup - jeon jungkook - texts you in the middle of the night when he’s needy and wanting some company. except - you’re on the 2nd day of your period.
| PAIRING | : student!jungkook x student!reader
| GENRE | : university au, no strings, porn with little plot
| WARNINGS | : 18+, explicit language, explicit smut, oral (m. + f. rec), period sex, raw sex, penetration, fingering, cum/(period) blood eating???, cum play, mild nipple play, dirty talk, crying during sex, 69, face riding, missionary, making out, multiple orgasms, kinda rough sex, jk is the best fuck buddy, praise, mutual pleasure, jk has no shame
| WC | : 3.9k
| FROM ME | : ok so i know I haven’t posted anything in maybe a month and im truly sorry but I’ve just been busy and on holiday lol. I know this is just a short oneshot but I hope I’ll have more free time to write longer fics. not proofread so don’t come for me pls !!!! minors pls dni because i would not like to poison thy innocent mind with 2k words of filth :)
it had been 4 days since you last met up with jungkook. his apartment after a mutual friend’s party, both of you slightly tipsy and stumbling everywhere, and his hot mouth working on your skin like it was his final meal - your favourite combo.
you two had been hooking up for a while now, it was a mutual agreement that benefited you both perfectly. you were too preoccupied with your university studies to even think about bearing the weight of a committed relationship. and jungkook, well, jungkook was just gaming his way through university, not concerned with getting a successful degree as a position in his uncle’s company was promised to him as soon as he graduated. the idea of casual sex whenever you felt like it made him more than happy - no emotional thoughts or feelings to over complicate things.
he’d proposed the idea at a party one night after you’d stupidly drank too much and randomly blurted out to him how sexually frustrated you had been. he didn’t laugh or make fun, just shrugged and said he was up for it if you were. you weren’t strangers, jungkook always saw you around campus with your head in a book or at events where his friends frequently hung out with yours. you were cute, determined, and just seemed in need of some relief - which jungkook could definitely help with.
you always noticed him too, it was almost impossible not to. he was definitely your type - hot, confident, built with tattoos. jungkook gave major fuckboy vibes though, and you weren’t sure whether you’d be walking headfirst into an std nest. however, he quickly assured you he got tested regularly and would send you his results, which was weirdly responsible of him.
you were still hesitant to agree at first, it almost sounded too good to be true. but jungkook offered you one night with him to decide if you wanted to continue - no strings, just both of you harmlessly indulging in each other - and thank god you agreed.
because jungkook was ridiculously good in bed. you’d assumed he was experienced, as were you, but not on this level. he knew exactly where to touch, tease, and focus on to satisfy you. he was just the right level of caring and attentive, which at least showed you weren’t being completely used. he knew and gave you exactly what you needed, what you had been craving for months - you’d be a fool not to go through with it, anyone could see that.
throughout the past few months, you and jungkook met up countless times whenever either of you texted or called. you’d mostly meet at each other’s apartments, but on busier days, jungkook was perfectly happy taking you quickly in his back seats before letting you resume your daily routine or sneaking out of parties with friends just to meet you.
ground rules and boundaries between you were obviously established (mostly on your part): you two were free to hook up with anyone else as long as you got regularly tested, arrangement could be stopped at anytime, no distracting you from your studies, protection was to be used at all times, no feelings or personal life involved, etc.
it seemed both of you were actually good at the whole no feelings to complicate anything thing. jungkook liked that about you - you didn’t beg for more attention from him or expect him to act like a doting boyfriend like some other women did. sleeping over at each other’s places was frequent, but that was only because you’d both be too tired out to move and jungkook didn’t want you collapsing in the elevator on your way back. it was easy, private, and honestly exhilarating.
so, here you were, hunched over your desk on a friday night studying, no - trying to, when you should’ve been at a house party with all your friends instead. they’d begged you to come, but you kept refusing, insisting that your grades were more important (which they were). though it was impossible to study now, it felt like your brain had stopped functioning properly and the words on the textbook were just as jumbled up as your mind.
you would’ve already texted jungkook if only there weren’t two problems. 1. you weren’t sure if he was at said house party, drinking and preoccupied by other things 2. you were at the peak of your period, with a dangerously heavy flow cramps obliterating your lower half. sex was obviously a no-go right now, no matter how much you wanted it or how much better it would make you feel.
you finally huffed and closed the textbook, there was no amount of information right now that could enter your brain and stay there, it was just pointless. your phone remained on the desk as you got up to get another glass of water, the ice cold liquid soothing your dry lips.
your phone suddenly buzzed - you expected it to be another reminder from a study app or a discount for a subscription, but no. jungkook’s name popped up on your screen: 1 new message you were confused, so he wasn’t at the party then? nonetheless, you quickly opened the chat.
jungkook: are u busy tonight?
three dots, then:
jungkook: i can see u read it
another message pops up, it’s a photo of his empty bed - dark, your favourite sheets, the blanket tossed off.
jungkook: come over? ;)
you groaned mentally, why tonight? your thumb hovers over the keyboard, but another message comes before you can even type a reply.
jungkook: i've been thinking about u all day
jungkook: can't focus
jungkook: this is your fault
another photo, this time it’s lower. sweatpants sitting dangerously low on his hips, tattooed hand resting on his lower stomach, the waistband of his boxers visible.
fuck. you can tell he’s probably extra horny from the amount of messages he sends at once, it’s hard to tell him no - but you finally reply.
you: i can’t do anything right now, i’m on my period :(
his reply comes fast, almost annoyed, but then:
jungkook: does that mean you don't wanna come over?
the tone of his messages changes slightly - not angry, but wanting. almost whining.
jungkook: cuz i really need u
jungkook: not gonna lie i’ve been doing it myself all day
oh lord.
you: doing what?
his reply is instant. blunt, a little embarrassed - jungkook backspaces once before sending. your breath hitches as soon as it comes through. why is he doing this to you now?
jungkook: touching myself thinking about you
he sends another photo. the angle shows the bulge straining at the front of his sweats, fingertips just barely grazing the fabric. heat already pulses low in your stomach.
jungkook: it's not enough though
jungkook: waiting for you to say you’ll come over.
you send an eye rolling emoji then type out another message.
you: i just told you I’m on my period.
he reads it immediately. you watch the three dots pop up, disappear, pop up again.
jungkook: i know
his reply comes instantly, shameless.
jungkook: i am aware you’re on your period
jungkook: i literally do not care
another photo follows - his hand is pushed fully down his sweatpants. fucking hell. you know jungkook is completely serious right now, and you can’t help but be a little nervous. the thought of him fucking you whilst you’re on your period does excite you a little, but you’re not sure whether he’ll end up being uncomfortable or weirded out.
you: it’s blood haven right now
three dots, a long pause, then:
jungkook: y/n
jungkook: i will put a towel down
jungkook: we will shower after
jungkook: i really do not care if you don’t.
you bite your lip, then another message.
jungkook: or i can come there
jungkook: i just need u
you think about it for a moment - fuck it. there’s a first time for everything, right?
you: you come here then.
he reads it but doesn't reply. eight minutes later, there's a knock at your door. it’s impatient, two quick raps. when you open it, jungkook's breathless, like he just ran up the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. he murmurs a ‘hey’ then shoves a plastic bag into your hands.
inside the bag is a dark towel, your favorite chocolate, painkillers, and a heating pad. you blink and realise he’s genuinely prepared and serious about this, and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
but jungkook doesn't waste any more time, he shoves you back against the door the second it's closed - lips crushing yours, hands already hiking up your shirt. you pull back breathless, your hands pressing against his chest to steady yourself. “jungkook, I feel a little disgusting, honestly, and I’ve never done anything sexual on my period..” your words are quiet, maybe even a little embarrassed.
he frowns, hands freezing on your hips instantly. the aggressive energy drops away, replaced by something soft. he leans his forehead against yours. "it's not disgusting." he dips his head down to kiss your jaw then pulls back to look you in the eye, dead serious. “it's literally biology. everyone bleeds." his thumbs rub your waist. "and if you've never done it, then tonight we will.."
you nod. “it’ll be messy, though.”
he nods back seriously. "i brought a towel, remember? i don't care about messy if you don’t.”
his lips quickly find yours again, his warm tongue enveloping yours as he leads you to your bedroom. he kicks the door shut behind you, walking you backward until your knees hit the mattress. the bag with the supplies hits your nightstand. he pulls your shirt off effortlessly, and doesn't hesitate to reach for your sweatpants, tugging them down along with your underwear.
he spreads the dark towel over the sheets with practiced efficiency, then pauses and looks at you. "we can stop." his voice is quieter now, thumb stroking your hip as he looks at you. "but I want you to know i don't care about any of it." he kisses your stomach. slow, deliberate, moving lower.
"just tell me if it's too much." jungkook murmurs against your skin. he pulls his hoodie off, then the shirt underneath. his body is already warm as he shifts, settling comfortably between your legs. his thumbs press gently into your inner thighs, coaxing them open.
you subconsciously resist a little, but he leans down, pressing a kiss right above your pelvic bone. "relax." he whispers. "trust me." jungkook gently hooks your legs over his shoulders, lowering his face with no hesitation. his mouth is on you instantly. soft, wet, and unbothered by anything other than making you feel good. “you’re so fucking beautiful, y/n.”
you tense automatically, instinctively trying to close your legs. his hands immediately clamp down on your thighs, holding them open, keeping you pinned. "stop moving, it’s alright." he mumbles against you, then licks a slow stripe up your center, the cold press of his lip piercing making you shiver.
“ah” you moan, hand flying to his hair - gripping, pulling. he groans against you, the vibration makes your back arch off the mattress. jungkook works you slowly and patiently. his tongue circling, his lips pulling. he reads every twitch, every gasp, adjusting for your comfort.
his eyes flick up to meet yours. dark, hungry, chin wet - he doesn't care. your eyes are already rolling back, mouth wide open as a string of breathy moans escape you. you're absolutely soaked. the blood mixes with your arousal, dripping onto the dark towel beneath you. jungkook doesn't slow. his tongue flicks harder, faster. one hand slips up your body to pinch your nipple through your lacy bra.
your back arches again, a choked sob escaping. "jungkook-" the pleasure he’s giving you is becoming unbearable. he just hums, appreciative as feels you already getting close. “so good….” your thighs shake against his ears, he tightens his grip on them, pulling you closer to his mouth. two fingers suddenly slide inside you - easy, wet. he curls them upward - hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.
jungkook pulls back just enough to breathe, thumbs rubbing the inside of your thigh. "cum on my face, beautiful.” he tells you, but his mouth is back on you before you can respond. sucking as your orgasm hits hard, violent. your thighs clench around his face, your hips bucking hard into his mouth. a loud, undignified sound escapes you, one you've never made before.
he doesn't stop, doesn't even slow. jungkook swallows every drop of your release - blood and arousal mixing on his chin, dripping down his throat. once youve come down from your high, he presses a kiss to your glistening core then comes back up. when he comes back up, his mouth and chin are all bloody. you open your eyes and gasp, mortified by the vision. “oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
he sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he’s breathless and hard, pupils blown wide. he looks down at the mess between your legs - blood and cum and saliva mixed together on the dark towel.
jungkook lunges forward again, covering your body with his. his mouth meets yours - bloody, salty, still tasting of you. “don’t be. you’re the best thing i’ve ever tasted.” he whispers against your lips, breath hot. he grinds against you, hard and desperate. his cock is straining in his sweats, pressing against your wet thighs. you taste yourself on his tongue, you taste the iron of your blood - he doesn't care.
his tongue swipes over your bottom lip once more, then he pushes you back down and settles between your thighs once again - hot mouth finding your centre. “be so good again for me, beautiful.”
jungkook doesn't stop eating you out, he doesn't even pause apart from checking you’re okay every few minutes. each time you peak again, each time his mouth and chin are covered more thoroughly in the mixture of your blood and your climax. the towel is soaking.
by the third time, your thighs are trembling uncontrollably. overstimulated, tears streaming down your cheeks. your fingers tangled in his hair so tight it must hurt. jungkook’s relentless, he could eat you out like this all night if you wanted him to. he finally pulls back. face a mess, chest heaving, his lips swollen and red. he wipes his mouth with his forearm then stares down at you - wrecked, ruined, gorgeous.
"you're so fucking hot."
you whimper at his words, your fingers reaching out to tug at the waistband of his sweatpants - you need him, now. jungkook doesn't hesitate, he shoves them down along with his boxers in one rough motion, kicking them off the end of the bed. his cock springs free. thick, heavy, angry red and leaking pre-cum against his stomach. he's agonizingly hard. he strokes himself once, his thumb spreading the bead of moisture over the head. "still okay?"
you just watch him, eyes fixed on his thick length. then your eyes move back up, you nod once and bite your lip. jungkook watches you bite your lip, his eyes darkening. "don't do that." he reaches up, thumb pressing against your lower lip, freeing it from your teeth. "i want to hear you."
you know you’re already soaking again , you can feel your core pulsing for him. jungkook reaches over to your nightstand drawer where you keep the condoms, but you grab his forearm to stop him. “wait..”
jungkook raises his eyebrows, one hand still rubbing your thigh as he waits for you to continue. you take a deep breath then speak again. “we don’t have to use one this time, i want to feel you properly.”
his brain stops working properly for a second. you want him to fuck you raw? it’s not like it wouldn’t be fucking amazing, but jungkook doesn’t want to overwhelm you or make you feel pressured after always having used protection.
you study his face then continue. “it’s fine if you don’t want to. you know I’m on the pill. i know you’re clean, you know I’m clean. i just - think it would be nice.”
jungkook shakes his head so fast you think he might have whiplash, his tongue plays with his lip ring before he replies. “no - fuck, y/n. i really want to, too. i just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything.” after studying your face and realising you’re serious, he moves closer and reaches out to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his voice low and sultry. “you want to, then?”
he leans down to pepper kisses all down your throat, then he sucks the sweet spot on your collarbone. “are you sure you can handle it?”
your pulse starts going erratic again, it feels like you’ve somehow forgotten to breathe. you whimper quietly at the thought. “Yes, please, jungkook, i can take it.”
the sound of your voice makes jungkook groan and just press his forehead against your neck. you sound so sweet, so needy and ready for him - he doesn’t waste anymore time.
he positions himself between your legs, hovering over you. his cock brushes against your thigh - hot and heavy. "it shouldn’t, but, tell me if it hurts." he whispers.
jungkook lines himself up. slow, careful, pushing forward. the burn is immediate. you're soaked, but the blood makes the friction different - slicker, warmer. he watches your face intently, freezing when you gasp, waiting for you to adjust. he pushes all the way in, bottoming out. you whine at the stretch. “jungkook…”
he groans. "fuck, princess. fuck, baby.." he stills above you for a moment, his forehead dropping against yours, his breathing ragged. his arms are shaking, holding himself back. "you feel so fucking good." his voice cracks as he pulls back slowly then slides back in - deep, deliberate, setting a rhythm that makes your toes curl.
the wet sounds between you are obscene, slick, messy. “Yes! oh. oh god, jungkook…” every thrust drags a sound out of you - high, broken, shameless - you can't control it. the wet slide of him inside you is amplified, the sensation sharper, deeper.
jungkook loves it. "there we go, babe, let me hear you." he groans into your neck, picking up the pace, the slap of skin against skin is deafening. he wants to make you feel even more - he grips your thighs, pushing them higher toward your chest. the angle changes, he hits deeper, harder. “you like that, princess? fuck.”
you're so loud - no filter, too full of him to even register his words. the coil tightening in your stomach almost violently. jungkook looks down between your bodies where you're connected. it's messy, red, slick. "look at it." he pants. "look how pretty you are."
you both come apart at the same time - him thrusting deep, you clamping down. he's growling your name into your shoulder, you're almost sobbing into his hair. jungkook’s release is violent, hot ropes hitting your cervix over and over. your walls clench around him like a vice, milking every drop out of him. the towel underneath is ruined, completely soaked through. he falls forward, chest heaving, your names both stuck in each other’s throat.
jungkook stays buried inside you for a moment, both of you recovering from what just happened. he presses soft kisses to your shoulder and neck then looks back up at you. “that was beyond fucking amazing.” he watches your face - you’re completely fucked out, cheeks flushed and chest heaving as you try to catch your breath again.
he waits another moment before sitting up suddenly, grabbing your hips and pulling you onto his face without warning. his tongue immediately finds your clit, licking through the mess of both your releases. you yelp and gasp, hands flying to his hair as he begins to eat you out aggressively. "ride my face, beautiful, come on."
“oh my god, jungkook-“ you’ve never been in this position before. you’d fantasised about it a lot but never actually imagined you’d ever be sitting on his face - your face reddens again.
but jungkook doesn't let up. one hand tightens in your hair, gently pulling your head back. the other grips your ass, lifting you higher. "grind on it, baby." he commands against your wetness, and you do. you're overstimulated, you're shaking, but you move your hips anyway - rubbing against his mouth. "that's it, babe. fuck, i could die in this pussy.”
a sudden rush of boldness runs through your body. you lean forward, bracing one hand on the headboard while you grind on his mouth. the other hand slips down his stomach, wrapping around his still-hard cock. you start to stroke him fast - tight, rough, desperate. "let me taste you." you whisper.
jungkook’s back arches. he moans loud against your core, vibrations shaking through you. you lean down now, wrapping your lips around the swollen head of his cock. he chokes out a groan against your cunt, the vibration making your hips jerk. you take him deep. hollowing your cheeks, stroking the base. his hips buck up off the mattress, fucking into your mouth automatically. meanwhile his tongue works you harder, faster.
you stroke him faster. the contrast makes you both delirious - him eating you out while you take him in your mouth. your mouth is so full, you can only make muffled sounds of pleasure. jungkook groans loudly, pushing his hips up into your face, forcing himself deeper. “fuck, y/n. take all of it."
you choke on his dick, your jaw stretching uncomfortably as he pushes. his hands grip the sheets, his voice drops to something like a growl. "take all of it." His tongue is also relentless, slapping across your clit with the same aggression. the vibrations make your walls clench, your cheeks hollow deeply.
something snaps, it breaks simultaneously. your orgasm hits you violently - your hips grinding down onto his tongue, screaming around his cock. you shake uncontrollably. jungkook snaps a second later, thick ropes shooting down your throat. you swallow immediately, humming through your nose, milking him perfectly.
you are both an absolute wreck. the only sound is your ragged breathing, the wet slap of sweat and slick hitting the mattress, the ticking clock across the room. jungkook stays there, your mouth still wrapped around him, your body still twitching. your thighs continue to shake uncontrollably against his shoulders.
finally, he shifts. slowly, gently slipping out. he pulls away, his cock leaving your lips with a wet pop. thick strings connect your lips to the tip before breaking. his face is coated, your centre is coated, it looks almost like a warzone.
jungkook looks at you. eyes dark, lips swollen, panting like he just ran a marathon. "jesus christ." you both look down - the sheets, the towel, his face, your thighs, his cock, his stomach. everything is smeared a little red.
he looks at you, you look at him. you both start laughing. exhausted, maybe slightly delirious. he pulls you closer into another kiss, whilst his hand travels up to the back of your neck - it feels so good, so rewarding. “do you feel okay?” jungkook asks, hoping that wasn’t too much for you.
and it wasn’t. that was most definitely the best sex of your life. you dwell on it for a moment, how could anything else compare to this? No, y/n, you think - don’t even go there.
jungkook - sexy, attentive, strictly casual-hookup-only jungkook who just respectfully broke you in half - pulls you in for another kiss, then chuckles against your lips. "i think we need a shower." he murmurs.
and, well, the cold water from the shower was definitely not the only awakening you’d be having that night.
summary: what would you do when your bias offers you an NDA?
warnings: verydom!jungkook x shy!submissive reader, explicit sexual content, clit rubbing, pussy eating, blow job, squirting, edging, spitting, dom!sub dynamic, daddy, heavy!degradation, dirty talk, multiple positions, detailed smut, jk is very mean, oral sex, mirror sex, slapping, choking, pussy slapping, anal, rimming, nipple play, praising, dumbfication, usage of slut/whore, cum eating, marking, mentions of oc being his toy, multiple orgasms, rough sex, mentions of sex doll, crying, overstimulation, fingering, nipple slapping, penetrative sex, hair pulling, creampie.
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“Please, please, please!” you whispered to yourself, fingers crossed tightly as you stared at the three screens in front of you.
Your laptop. Your phone. Your tablet.
Your eyes were glossy with hope and adrenaline, your feet thumping uncontrollably beneath your chair, a thin layer of sweat forming despite the air-conditioned room wrapping around you in cold comfort.
This was your first time buying concert tickets. Despite being a long-time fan, this was your only chance—because you had finally gathered enough money to secure one.
You had prepared three Weverse accounts under your name and your parents’ names, carefully reserving each slot so you could slip into the presale the moment it opened. You had already studied how fast tickets sold out in other countries...the quickest being around ten minutes. Ten minutes of chaos, of people like you refreshing, praying, losing.
You bit your lip hard enough to feel it sting. You were still in the queue when the screen suddenly shifted, dragging you into a loading page that refused to move. Thirty minutes had already passed, and all three accounts were still stuck.
“Fuck!”
Your eyes widened when two of your accounts abruptly showed session timeout.
With shaky hands, you tried to navigate through it, but everything lagged—hesitating, freezing, slipping away from your control. You cursed under your breath, glancing at your laptop—the only one still holding on, still alive.
Your vision started to blur at the edges. The chances of getting a ticket were thinning by the second, dissolving right in front of you.
“Please, just this one…” you whispered to yourself, eyes locked on the screen with fragile, breaking hope.
Your eyes widened when the screen finally moved.
No Tickets Available.
Just like that, your hopes were crushed.
You slowly looked up at the posters on your walls, the albums stacked neatly on your shelves, the plushies scattered across your bed, and the ARMY Bomb you had recently bought, displayed beside your BTS McDonald’s figurines.
Tears began falling uncontrollably from your eyes, like a flood breaking through something you could no longer hold together. The realization settled in—heavy, final....that you wouldn’t get to see them.
Your lips quivered as you quickly sank onto your bed, pulling your favorite pink cooky plushie close to your chest. You cried into it, letting everything spill out with an aching, exhausted heart.
Your parents tried to comfort you. They knew how much this meant. They had witnessed your journey growing up—how you stayed up all night waiting for comebacks, how you saved every bit of money just to buy new albums, how you would drop everything the moment a Weverse Live started, how you bought multiple happy meals just to complete all the toys, how you binge-watched their content and replayed Run BTS episodes whenever you had free time.
They had seen it all.
How deeply you adored and loved your bias…
Jungkook.
You appreciated how your parents tried to look for tickets online for you, but the number of scams you’d heard about from resellers made you hesitate. Prices were tripled—far beyond your budget. You didn’t want to burden them, even when they insisted they were willing to cover the extra cost.
You were still a student, after all. You told them it was okay—that they should just save the money for your college instead.
“What if you just check in to the hotel they’re staying at? Girl, imagine!” your best friend Mina suggested.
The hot coffee you ordered had already gone cold. The concert was next month, and Mina was now throwing ridiculous ideas at you on how you could possibly see BTS. The supposed study session in the coffee shop had long been forgotten the moment you mentioned the upcoming concert.
“I doubt it. There’s usually no news about it because of their privacy… sometimes I only find out once they’ve already checked in or when they do a Weverse live.”
Mina rolled her eyes. “I’m sure there’s at least some news if you really dig into it. How many days is the concert?”
“Two days. And even if I wanted to stalk their hotel, I’m sure a lot of fans would do that too—and the next thing you know, the hotel is fully booked.” you pouted.
You were being realistic. The chances of seeing them at their hotel—or even getting a room there—were slim. With the number of fans camping out and others researching nonstop, you had almost zero chance.
“Do you want to see them or not? Come on, I’ll book a room with you!” she nudged your shoulders, wiggling her brows as she sipped her caramel macchiato.
You chuckled softly. “Of course I do, but I swear, Mina, it’s harder than you think…”
Mina groaned, stomping her feet. “Ugh, fine! But watching the concert online is really fucking boring when you know they’re literally in the same country as you.”
You sighed. Mina wasn’t really a fan, but she knew how much you loved BTS. When she found out you hadn’t secured a ticket, she had been the first to suggest the most ridiculous ideas—stalking their hotel, camping outside the arena, chasing anything that even remotely felt possible.
After a few months since the presale, it had been a hard pill to swallow—but you had finally accepted it. You wouldn’t get to see them. Even if Mina’s ideas lingered at the back of your mind, you knew better. The chances were too low. You’d rather stay at home, wear your cooky pajamas, and stream the concert online in peace.
Still… there were the sleepless nights.
The what-ifs that refused to leave you alone.
What if you had attended the concert? What if you had somehow booked the same hotel? What if you caught a glimpse of their van outside the arena?
Being a fan for almost a decade, you knew those kinds of scenarios only happened in fictional stories. Seeing Jungkook on a random day was like finding a bag of cash in a public restroom stall—completely impossible.
Though… still, a small part of you never fully stopped hoping.
“Also, isn’t our country their last stop?” Mina said, already searching for dates and details on her phone.
“Yeah… that’s why I actually had enough money and time… but I guess luck just wasn’t on my side,” you murmured bitterly, glancing around the busy coffee shop as if the noise could somehow quiet the ache settling in your chest.
Mina suddenly froze, her eyes widening. “Wait—since it’s the last stop… don’t you think they’ll stay longer? Maybe for a few more days, like… I don’t know, rest?”
You had already thought about it—but how on earth would you ever know their whereabouts? You’d only find out once they were already there, or when they went live. And since it would be after the concert, you were certain they’d want to rest, to disappear into privacy for a while.
“Mina… it’s okay. I swear, I’ll be fine.” you assured her, her ideas now more amusing than anything else.
Until your lunch break ended, Mina kept babbling—throwing out unrealistic scenarios straight out of books and fanfics. You laughed at her what-ifs, at the corny places her imagination kept taking you.
You knew she wasn’t doing it to be silly.
She was doing it because she knew you. Knew how badly you wanted to see them. Knew how quiet you’d become once the concert actually started.
So, as your best friend, Mina had decided something else entirely.
A short out-of-town trip. While BTS was in the country. A way for you both to disappear for a while, to breathe, to rest from studies, from expectations, from everything—including the concert you couldn’t attend.
“Mina! Why didn’t you tell me?” Your eyes widened in shock when you saw the cottage number and the dates.
Mina had booked a five-day beach trip, complete with daily activities that made your head spin just reading them.
“Don’t worry, you can bring your laptop so you can still stream the concert.” she snickered, handing you the itinerary.
“Mina! That’s not what I meant—this is too much,” you groaned.
She giggled, already sitting comfortably on your bed while you scanned through the list she had prepared. “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun! Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve had a girls’ trip.”
You pouted at her, still in disbelief—but the resistance didn’t last. A smile slipped through as you pulled her into a hug anyway. “You and your ideas,” you chuckled.
“Bring cute clothes! Let’s take lots of pics—I want to update my IG!” she said excitedly.
You grinned. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow. My treat.”
Mina shrieked. “God, yes! Let’s go!”
The upcoming concert was still on your mind, but you were also busy preparing for the trip with Mina. You were excited—the small distraction keeping you from spiraling into a full breakdown over not being able to see BTS.
Wearing a cute sundress and brown sandals, you and Mina finally checked in. It was Day 1 of the concert. You had already set an alarm for the online stream later, a quiet kind of excitement settling in at the thought that, at the very least, you had the privilege of watching it while sipping fresh coconut by the sea breeze.
“Why the fuck are you reapplying your lip gloss?” Mina asked when she caught you touching up your makeup right before the concert started.
“To look cute while watching Jungkook,” you giggled, turning your ARMY Bomb on.
After dinner, you and Mina sat on a bench by the sand, your pocket Wi-Fi, laptop, and earphones already set up beside you.
Mina rolled her eyes. “That’s crazier than my ideas.”
You chuckled softly, eyes already fixed on the screen as the countdown began. Your heart raced like you were inside the stadium with them—like the distance didn’t exist at all.
When the concert finally started, Mina had to walk away because you were screaming too loudly, jumping from your seat and almost knocking over the coconut shake on the table.
“Girl, let me walk around and find a cute guy. Your shrieks are lowkey scaring me.” Mina laughed when she came back and saw you on the verge of tears, fanning yourself like you might actually pass out.
“Okay, oka—oh my gosh! They’re performing Dimple! Oh my gosh!” you shouted, already lost in it again.
For two days, you were completely gone in it—fangirling nonstop, fully absorbed in every moment. It was only on Day 3, when Mina had planned actual activities, that you finally stepped away from the screen. Until then, you had spent your time watching, rewatching, and reposting edits like the world outside didn’t exist.
“He’s so hot—I can’t believe he wore that gray shirt. It looked so good on him,” you babbled, telling Mina everything about the concert details and the surprise songs they performed.
The two-night concert had ended like a whirlwind, yet you were still floating on cloud nine. While Mina had been busy taking pictures and scouting for cute guys, you had been replaying everything in your head—taking screenshots, saving edits, and reliving every moment in real time like you couldn’t let it go.
Mina was just happy you enjoyed it. She even swore she almost thought you were going to have a heart attack when you shrieked so loudly after Jungkook lifted his shirt and revealed his abs. Your gallery probably had ten copies of that exact moment.
“And! Guess what!” you said, munching on your breakfast as you wiggled your eyebrows at her.
“Hmm… Jungkook showed his dick?”
“Mina!” Your cheeks burned as you nearly choked on the waffles you were eating.
Mina laughed, casually pointing her fork at you. “That would be good though.”
You shook your head quickly, your face still hot. “I mean—would want that—but guess what! He sang the chorus of Still With You in acapella!” you babbled again, as if Mina would fully grasp the weight of it.
For your third day, you and Mina were supposed to ride a yacht. You were already getting dressed when Mina suddenly squealed behind you, hurriedly tying the strap of her sandal.
“He replied! Oh my gosh, he’s treating me to dinner!” Mina said excitedly, quickly glancing at the mirror you were using to fix your hair.
“Huh? Who?”
“This guy I met while you were watching the concert! He wants to see me again!” She showed you her phone.
Your brows furrowed. “He’s inviting you to his cottage later?” you said, reading the message.
Mina’s eyes widened as she looked back at her phone. “Fuck! What should I do?”
“Wait… so you’re not going on the yacht with me?” you concluded.
Mina smiled cheekily, biting her lip. “Well… he’s cute and… hot…”
You raised a brow. “Make sure he’s really hot,” you chuckled, fixing your hair again in front of the mirror—when Mina suddenly squealed and hugged you from behind.
“Promise I’ll make it up to you! You’re the best!” she grinned, already moving back to the bed to grab her bag.
Mina had booked this trip for you, and you wanted her to enjoy it too. Even though she originally planned it as a girls’ trip, you had spent most of it absorbed in the concert. She had always supported your whims without hesitation...and now it was your turn to support hers.
“Why are you bringing that duffel bag?” you asked, amused at the amount of clothes she was packing.
Mina wiggled her brows. “Gotta be prepared, y’know.”
She walked towards the door, fixing her neckline one last time.
You grinned. “Text me when you’re heading back!”
“Yes, ma’am!” she giggled, throwing you a flying kiss before hurrying out.
The sheer amount of clothes Mina brought made it obvious—she probably wouldn’t be back tonight. You sighed softly, glancing down at your short pink floral dress, your hair tied in a half ponytail.
You still had two days left of the trip, but today was the first time it truly settled in. For the past two days, you had been completely immersed in the concert—no time to walk along the shore, no quiet moments to watch the sunset.
Now, it was finally your time to unwind.
Although you were tempted to doom-scroll edits again, you forced yourself up instead, deciding to follow the planned activity for the day and step outside.
-
“Number 9! Calling for all passengers on Yacht 9!”
You hurried over to the line, double-checking the receipt number Mina had reserved for you.
There were only a few people waiting—some couples and a small group of friends. You didn’t really mind being alone. If anything, you needed this time to unwind, to breathe, to exist without noise pressing in on you.
“Ticket, please!” the man in a white uniform said.
You handed it over, offering a polite smile before stepping onto the yacht.
A few groups had already settled in—holding bottles of champagne, chatting softly, taking pictures against the open sea. You made your way towards the main deck, where a small group of friends sat around a table filled with snacks and laughter.
Based on the crowd, you felt relieved it wasn’t too packed—maybe around twenty-thirty people scattered across the space, enough to feel lively but not overwhelming.
Soft music drifted through the air as the yacht moved gently along the waves. The salt of the sea lingered in every breath you took, calming something in you without you even realizing it needed calming.
You wandered towards a long table filled with food, your short dress and hair swaying slightly with the breeze.
There were different kinds of pastries, a large charcuterie board, bottles of wine and champagne catching the light, stacks of beer lined neatly at one end, and a few bags of chips scattered casually beside them.
Mina had definitely booked a nice yacht. You smiled to yourself, genuinely happy that you could finally relax and enjoy this moment—with good food, fresh air, and a quiet kind of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.
You grabbed a bag of potato chips and a bottle of wine, scanning the area for a place to sit until you spotted a vacant lounger on the sun deck.
“Perfect!” you mumbled excitedly when you noticed no one else had claimed that area.
Carefully placing your bag, chips, and wine down, you quickly took a photo to update Mina.
“Let’s sit here!”
You were still busy snapping pictures when a small group—maybe four or five people—settled in beside you.
You weren’t really paying attention at first, but in your peripheral vision, you noticed they had brought an impressive amount of snacks with them.
You opened your chips and leaned back on the sun lounger. When you heard the sharp crack of a beer can opening, curiosity tugged at you, and you glanced over briefly.
It was a group of Korean men, older than you—probably in their mid-30s to 40s. Some wore black shades, already laughing as they settled into their drinks, their voices easy and relaxed.
They must be on vacation. This beach was a tourist spot, after all.
You turned your attention back to your chips, letting the sun warm your skin as you sank into the view. The group beside you wasn’t loud—they mostly talked about the scenery and the food, occasionally breaking into laughter over the activities they had tried earlier.
The world felt slow again, almost suspended in that gentle rhythm of waves and wind.
You were busy sipping your wine when you suddenly felt it—an unmistakable stare.
The group beside you was still laughing, their voices blending into the soft noise of the sea, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was looking at you.
These men were older, and for a brief moment, unease crept in.
You sneaked a glance over your shoulder and noticed the broad-built man in sunglasses staring straight ahead—past you.
Does he want potato chips or—
With a slight frown, you followed his line of sight properly this time.
He wasn’t looking at you.
He was looking at your bag on the table.
My bag?
When he realized you were looking back at him, he quickly turned away, though the shift in his posture told you he was still thinking.
Confused, you glanced down at your bag again.
It was just a simple beige tote bag...nothing special and nothing worth staring at.
You shrugged it off. It must’ve been a mistake. Besides, he was wearing sunglasses—maybe he was just spacing out, looking into nothing.
Munching on your chips again, you noticed him typing on his phone, suddenly more focused, as if he had detached himself from the conversation entirely.
You almost laughed to yourself, thinking he might actually be searching something about your bag online.
A strange thought—but harmless.
With a deep, content sigh, you leaned back again, the warmth of the sun and the rhythm of the waves slowly pulling you under.
And somewhere between the breeze and the quiet, you didn’t notice when your eyes finally closed.
By the time you woke up, it was already sunset.
The bottle of wine beside you was empty, and the small group that had been next to you earlier was gone. The sea breeze had turned cooler now—soft and comforting...while the sound of waves blended with the distant chatter of guests still enjoying the evening.
You stretched lightly and sat up.
Some people were still dancing, some chatting, others taking pictures against the fading orange sky. You still had a few hours left before the yacht returned to shore.
Grabbing your leftover chips and the empty bottle of wine, you frowned when something small caught your attention beside your bag.
A paper.
Leaning in slightly, you picked it up—and realized it was a calling card.
Looking around, you didn’t see the group of Koreans anymore. You assumed the calling card must’ve come from them, especially given the Korean name and number printed on it.
Still… you were confused. Why would he leave his calling card?
Walking slowly along the yacht, you felt a slight dizziness from the wine lingering in your system. You tossed the empty chip bag and bottle aside, your eyes still scanning the space for any sign of the group you had seen earlier. The air had turned colder now, your short dress offering little protection against the breeze brushing against your skin.
Curiosity got the better of you—and maybe the alcohol gave you just enough courage.
You decided to dial the number.
“Yoboseyo?” a deep voice answered.
You swallowed. “Hello? I-Is this Song Hobeom?”
A brief sigh came through the line. “Yes?”
Confusion crept in when he didn’t immediately recognize you as the person from the sun lounger. You hesitated for a moment. Did he really hand out his calling card just like that?
“Uh, I was the one sitting on the sun lounger by the main deck. I think you left your calling card at my table?” you said, biting your lip as nerves slowly settled in.
You had no idea what he wanted—and yet here you were, calling him back.
“Oh, right. Thank you for calling back, ma’am. May I know when you are free? I would like to discuss something with you.” he said in a formal tone.
Huh?
Confusion was written all over your face.
You walked towards the bow of the yacht, trying to escape the soft music and distant chatter, holding the phone closer to your ear.
“Uhm… may I know what for? This is a bit confusing.” You looked around again, but there was still no trace of the group from earlier. They must’ve already left.
“It is a bit confidential, ma’am. But don’t worry, I will give you a short background once we meet.”
You groaned under your breath. “I’m sorry, but can’t you just tell me this over the phone?”
You didn’t want to sound rude, but you didn’t know this man. It was already strange enough that he wanted to meet in person to “discuss something.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we may need to discuss this face-to-face to ensure the call is not being recorded. If you prefer, you may set the time and place.” he said formally.
What the actual fuck.
You rolled your eyes. This was bullshit—it sounded like a scam. Some foreign guy trying to trick people before disappearing back to his country.
“Sorry, but I’m not interested. Thank you.”
You ended the call immediately.
You weren’t stupid enough to meet a stranger like that. You had only been curious, nothing more—but the moment he refused to explain anything over the phone, something in you clicked.
Suspicion.
And you weren’t taking that chance.
You were about to walk back to the main deck when your phone beeped with a new message. You thought it was Mina, but the moment you recognized the country code, you immediately rolled your eyes.
What does he want?
You instantly regret calling his number. Opening the message, you saw that he had sent a file.
“I swear if this has a virus,” you mumbled.
You were about to tap it when another message came in.
Song Hobeom: The file can only be viewed once. Any form of screenshot or screen recording will be detected and notified. Please contact me again if you wish to proceed after reading the contract.
Song Hobeom: Please do not share this file or inform anyone about this matter. This is strictly confidential. Thank you.
Fucking hell?
You snorted softly, finding his messages almost ridiculous. It sounded like a joke—like he genuinely believed you’d get “in trouble” for forwarding whatever this was.
With a small smirk, you already decided you’d tell Mina about it later. You were definitely not falling for some scam. You’d open it, see whatever nonsense it was, and then block him right after.
With a sheepish grin, you tapped the file anyway… your heart giving a small, restless thump as the screen began to load.
What if it’s a jump scare?
Your brows slowly furrowed when the title finally appeared in bold capital letters:
NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT
What?
You quickly scanned the document, reading faster and faster—until your eyes landed on a name that made your heart jolt.
“W-What the actual fuck?!” you gasped in shock. A few people turned to look at you, but you didn’t care. Your attention was completely locked on your phone.
You were starting to hyperventilate. You wanted to close it, to breathe, to think—but it was a view-once file. Your hands trembled as the alcohol from earlier wore off almost instantly, replaced by something sharper.
“This is not real… no freaking way,” you whispered weakly, quickly texting him back with shaking fingers.
No second thoughts—you typed immediately, afraid he might block you or change his mind.
You: I am free tomorrow at around 1 PM. Let’s meet by the coast area near the bar.
Song Hobeom: Noted, ma’am. Thank you for cooperating.
-
You never thought you would find yourself in a situation like this.
You chose a spot with very few people around. It was a nice sunny day, but your face already felt warm—nervous, alert, almost buzzing with anticipation.
Wearing a white floral dress, brown strappy sandals, and sunglasses, you called Mina beforehand and told her you’d be skipping the snorkeling activity for the day. You wanted to tell her the truth, but she didn’t question it when you said you just wanted to swim and relax by the ocean instead.
She told you she wouldn’t be back for tonight, giggling about the cute guy she had met. She kept talking, but your mind was elsewhere the entire time.
Honestly, you were relieved she wouldn’t be back soon. Given the terms written in the file, you needed time alone.
Or this opportunity—whatever it really was—might slip right through your fingers.
“Are you listening to me? You’re like… spacing out, girl!” Mina chuckled.
Your face immediately heated up. “Oh! A-Am I? I was just thinking about buying this merch, and it’s a bit expensive, so I was wondering if I should buy the whole set or just Jungkook’s edition.” you rambled quickly.
Mina laughed, shaking her head. “Just buy it all! Gosh! Anyways, so I went to this island…”
You bit your lip, she believed it.
She continued ranting, and you did your best to follow along, nodding at the right moments, forcing yourself to stay present. You had to hide this—or you’d be screwed.
“Do you want to order, ma’am?”
You looked up at the waiter and nearly froze when, for a split second, you thought it was Song Hobeom standing in front of you.
You were thirty minutes early.
Last night, you hadn’t slept at all...spending hours searching for the man behind the calling card. And what you found had hit you like a truck.
He wasn’t just some random foreign stranger.
He was BTS’s manager.
The weight of the NDA had settled in slowly at first… then all at once.
The same Song Hobeom you had seen on the yacht… was the same man now appearing across articles and videos all over the internet.
“No, thank you. I’ll order later,” you politely declined. You didn’t think you could eat or drink anything at this point.
The waiter nodded and left you alone.
You let out a quiet sigh, glancing at your phone to check the time. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to steady your breathing—you couldn’t afford to panic right now.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.”
The familiar deep voice made your eyes snap open.
He was finally here.
He approached in a composed, almost professional manner, as if this were a business meeting rather than something that had your entire morning spiraling. Black shirt, gray board shorts and black shades.
Your gaze narrowed slightly when you noticed the large iPad and brown envelope in his hands.
You immediately stood up, quickly straightening your dress before offering your hand.
“G-Good day, uh… h-have a seat, please.” you gestured, waiting until he sat down before you did.
“Have you eaten, Ms…?” he asked, pausing as if waiting for your full name.
“Oh, it’s Y/N L/N. I a-already had lunch,” you stammered, your heart racing as you finally introduced yourself.
He smiled and nodded. “That’s good to hear. I’m Song Hobeom, the manager of Bangtan Sonyeondan.”
He opened the brown envelope and showed you its contents. Like a startled kitten, you carefully took the papers.
“Have you read the file I sent you?” he asked casually, while opening his iPad.
You immediately nodded. “Y-Yes, uh… but I only scanned it quickly.”
It was true—you had replied almost instantly because you were scared he might unsend it or take it back.
He nodded. “Alright. Let me explain this to you thoroughly. Before proceeding, we require a Non-Disclosure Agreement to protect the privacy and safety of our artist. This agreement simply means that any information you may see, hear, or experience during your time with us—such as the artist’s location, conversations, or personal details—must remain confidential and cannot be shared with others, posted online, or discussed publicly,” he said in a formal, business-like tone.
You nodded quickly. “Y-Yes, I didn’t tell anyone!” you replied immediately.
He gave another nod, turning the iPad towards you to display the contract details. Then he began walking you through each section, one by one, in calm, structured explanations.
“Ms. Y/N, the NDA does not take away your rights or force you to do anything. It only ensures mutual privacy,” he stated, and you found yourself listening closely, agreeing more than questioning. The moment you had texted back was already a sign—you had chosen to proceed.
“Once signed, the confidentiality rules will remain in effect for the period stated in the document, and breaking the agreement could result in legal consequences.”
“I understand! I-I have researched how NDAs work as well.”
You bit your lip the moment you said it, suddenly realizing how desperate you sounded. You wanted to ask so many questions—why you, of all people, why this situation had landed in your lap—but you were too focused, too eager to get to the part that mattered most now.
Signing that damn contract. That was your priority.
“Good. If you have any questions or concerns, I want you to feel comfortable asking before signing—”
“No questions! I’ll s-sign,” you blurted out, cheeks warming as excitement slipped through your tone.
Mr. Song chuckled lightly and nodded before handing you an expensive-looking pen.
“Alright, please double-check the terms and conditions. Take your time, Ms. Y/N.”
But you didn’t.
Before you even properly reread the contract, you signed it...like your life depended on it. A shy, almost embarrassed smile formed on your lips as you finished.
He looked amused, like this wasn’t his first time seeing this reaction. As if he was already familiar with how quickly people surrendered to these documents.
Then he handed you the iPad for another copy.
Scrolling quickly, you signed again without hesitation.
Your eyes flickered over your own name—and then, for a brief second, your heart stuttered when you saw the name of the artist involved.
Jeon Jungkook.
Mr. Song explained the terms and conditions again. You listened eagerly, a little calmer now that you had finally secured the contract.
“Thank you for signing, Ms. Y/N. Please remember to keep everything discussed and experienced confidential as agreed,” he said with a polite smile, handing you another calling card. “Mr. Jeon will be the one to contact you directly after this for any further coordination.”
You stared at the calling card—Jungkook’s name and number printed on it—your eyes widening in shock.
This cannot be real.
-
“Ugh! I want to cry!”
You stared at yourself in the mirror, now back in your cottage, pacing in front of it like a maniac.
You had one night. One fucking night with him.
The date stated in the contract was after your vacation ended. You were already stressing about what to tell Mina for extending your stay, what to say to your professors, your parents—because you had clearly told them your trip only lasted until next week.
Jungkook hadn’t contacted you yet. It was still too early. You had no idea if he was even on the island already. The only thing you knew was that you were supposed to meet him in Executive Cottage 3 at 8 PM next week.
You still couldn’t believe it.
You had always thought NDAs were just myths—fantasies spun by fans who imagined idols risking everything for a single private encounter.
Sure, you had heard rumors that things like this might actually happen… but you never thought you would experience it yourself—with your own bias, Jeon Jungkook.
It felt unreal. Worse—or better—than a concert. One-on-one and up close.
Your cheeks warmed at the memory of the agreement, your heart picking up speed at the thought. It almost scared you how much you didn’t want to wake up in case this was all just a dream.
Sometimes you found yourself lightly slapping your cheek, as if reality still refused to fully sink in.
For months, you had been depressed over missing the ticket, and now—out of nowhere...you had the opportunity, the privilege, to meet your bias in private.
Now it made sense.
It was their last concert. Their managers were staying here to rest… and for what? To arrange potential NDAs?
Last night, after Mina’s call, you had spent hours deep in research—so deep it felt less like curiosity and more like you were preparing a thesis you somehow needed to defend. You searched everything: how NDAs worked, how participants were chosen, what would happen if you told someone, and a dozen other questions that only made your head spin the longer you read.
There was no hesitation anymore.
The moment you confirmed that Song Hobeom was actually their legitimate manager, something in you fully locked in. Any lingering doubt that the contract might be fake...or some elaborate prank—disappeared instantly.
It was real, and you had already signed it.
Your excitement had gone through the roof.
Even though you wanted to tell Mina so badly, your eagerness to meet Jungkook was far stronger. You couldn’t risk it.
“Huh? Why?” Mina questioned when she returned the next day and you immediately told her about extending your stay.
“I just want to relax more, you know… I didn’t realize the sea was this calming,” you smiled, trying to sound convincing.
You and Mina were now getting ready for the snorkeling activity. After dinner, you had decided you would break the news properly.
“Are you lying to me?” Mina raised a brow.
You went pale. “N-No, I j-just really wanted to sta—”
“You met a cute guy, didn’t you?” Mina accused, squinting at you.
You blinked, caught completely off guard by her conclusion. She knew you weren’t the type to extend a trip like this—especially with school starting next week—unless, of course, it was for BTS.
Or a cute guy.
“W-Well…”
Mina giggled. “Ha! That’s why we’re besties!”
Maybe a little white lie wasn’t so bad.
Mina told you she couldn’t extend her stay anyway since she had a presentation due next week. Even though she wanted to stay longer, you reassured her you’d be fine—and that you just wanted some alone time with your “cute guy.”
Yeah...cute guy.
-
The following days felt like a whirlwind. You enjoyed your last activities with Mina, all while quietly trying to keep it together every time the agreement flashed back into your mind and sent your thoughts spiraling.
When the last day came, you practically rushed Mina into the van just to get a proper goodbye out before she left.
Tomorrow was finally the day.
And yet, Jungkook still hadn’t contacted you.
The day before, you had already gone through a medical examination—another requirement of the NDA. You were honestly surprised at how professional it all was, how organized everything felt despite how unreal the situation still seemed in your head.
It was almost ridiculous how seriously you had started taking everything.
You shaved your entire body. Scrubbed yourself religiously every night. Applied lotion more than usual. Even started doing small morning workouts after meals, as if preparation alone could somehow calm your nerves.
“Hi, Jungkookie!” you practiced in front of the mirror, batting your eyelashes.
“Fuck! Why did I do that?” you immediately cringed, shaking your head.
You tried again, this time forcing a different tone.
“So… how was the concert?”
“I’m honored to be chosen.”
“Do I just lay here?”
“I love you. You’re my everything.”
You groaned and covered your face completely.
You had no idea what to expect. The thought of meeting Jungkook was overwhelming in every possible way—like your brain couldn’t decide whether to freeze, panic, or completely shut down.
And honestly, you were starting to worry you might faint… or embarrass yourself beyond recovery the moment it actually happened.
The contract stated “private meeting,” and you weren’t exactly Sherlock, so it wasn’t hard to conclude that it involves fucking. Especially considering they required a medical examination—surely not for a simple chat.
You almost screamed when your phone beeped with a message.
Jungkook: Hi Y/N, see you tomorrow at 8!
“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” you jumped onto your bed, staring at the text like it wasn’t real.
His message was so casual, completely different from the formal, business-like tone Song Hobeom used. It almost made it feel even more surreal.
“What should I reply… oh my gosh.”
You bit your lip, carefully choosing your words so you wouldn’t mess anything up.
You: See you, Kookie!
-
The cottage was larger than yours...an executive unit reserved for upper-class guests—with soft ambient lighting, a private veranda, a small plunge pool, a carefully kept garden, a few hammocks swaying gently in the breeze, and direct access to the beach.
This area felt different, tucked away from the other cottages scattered across the busy island.
You had expected to be guided by bodyguards, but there was no one. No visible security, no presence at all. It felt intentional—like the meeting was meant to be so private that even protection would disrupt it.
Wearing a lilac wrap dress, white glittery doll shoes, and your hair curled neatly at the ends, you slowly made your way towards the cottage.
Your fingers hesitated before pressing the keycard Mr. Song had given you last week. The soft beep that followed made your nerves spike instantly—a quiet confirmation that you had arrived, and that you were allowed inside.
Once the door opened, you stepped in.
You were immediately met with a spacious bedroom featuring a king-sized bed, a lounge area, a large wooden door that likely led to the bathroom, and wide tinted windows with sliding doors that opened directly to a full view of the sea.
You stood there for a moment, taking it all in with wide eyes.
Carefully, you placed your bag beside the bed and began walking around the space, your curiosity slowly building. On the table, you noticed a selection of pastries and a neatly arranged meal set waiting, untouched.
“Hey.”
You gasped, your eyes snapping towards the bathroom door as the man you only saw on screens stepped out.
Jungkook wore nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp, droplets of water trailing down his neck and collarbones as he ran a smaller towel through his hair.
Your lips parted slightly. Fuck.
He walked toward the coffee table first, casually lifting the silver cloche to check the prepared dinner as if nothing about this moment carried any weight at all.
But for you, everything had just short-circuited.
Jungkook—right there in front of you...breathing the same fucking air.
You had seen him countless times on screens, in edited clips and fan videos—but none of that had prepared you for this. In person, his presence felt heavier, more grounded. His frame looked broader, more defined. The tattoos you had only ever glimpsed before were now fully visible under the soft lighting, detailed and striking in a way that made your thoughts scatter instantly.
Even his voice—when he spoke...carried a calm, effortless depth that made your mind go blank before it could catch up.
All the lines you had practiced disappeared completely.
You were speechless.
You couldn’t believe he was real.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, turning towards you while still holding the cloche.
Your mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. You stood near the couch like you’d been rooted in place, completely caught off guard.
A quiet chuckle left him as he noticed your reaction. He set the lid back down and began walking towards you.
Your breath hitched when he closed the distance. His fresh scent—clean, minty, just out of the shower—wrapped around you, sharpening your senses in an instant.
“Relax,” Jungkook said softly, his tone calm and steady as he gently placed a hand on your arm.
Warmth spread through your skin immediately, like your body had finally registered his presence all at once.
You nodded too quickly, blinking as if that could reset your brain. Your heart was pounding so hard you were convinced it had to be audible.
Jungkook smiled slightly, looking down at you. “Hmm, look at me.” he said when you kept avoiding eye contact.
You tried—but the moment your eyes lifted, you almost froze again.
Dark doe eyes met yours, steady and unreadable, holding you in place. His right hand lifted your chin just as you instinctively tried to look away again.
“Sit down on the couch for me, mhm?” he said gently, guiding you down with an easy, controlled calm.
You were so nervous, looking up at him like a shy deer. All the conversations you had prepared were completely forgotten—you were mentally blocked.
Jungkook tilted his head at you, still standing as he looked down at your form. “You okay, pretty girl?”
Your cheeks turned crimson at the compliment, and you nodded again like you had lost your voice.
Jungkook chuckled, crouching down to get to your eye level. “Talk to me, baby. Wanna hear you.”
“H-Hi,” you said in a small voice, almost choking on the words.
“Hmm, louder.” Jungkook whispered, raising a brow at you.
You gulped harshly, squeezing your own hands in nervousness. “H-Hi, Jungkook. Nice to meet you.” you said, a little clearer this time.
Jungkook smiled, sitting beside you. “There you go. Good job, baby.” he praised. “So polite.”
You smiled back shyly, your breath hitching when he took your hands—hands you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing so tightly.
“Baby, you’ll hurt yourself doing that…” he said gently, holding your hands and lightly tracing over the faint marks you had left on your skin.
“O-Oh, uhm…”
“Do you want to eat first? What do you want to do?” he asked softly, studying your nervous expression.
He was so calm, so composed, so sweet—it made your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You bit your lip under his attention, suddenly hyper-aware of every small movement you made.
His gaze briefly dropped to your lips. He swallowed subtly, something shifting in his expression for just a moment before he looked back up at you again.
“W-Whatever y-you want to do…”
Jungkook raised a brow at you, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah?”
You nodded quickly. “Yes…”
Jungkook straightened up, his gaze briefly dropping over your short dress, lingering for a moment before he looked back at the table.
“There’s a bunch of pastries you might want to try. Do you like sweets?” he said softly, opening the glass lids of the desserts in front of you.
You smiled shyly, eyes shifting towards the neatly arranged food. “Yes, I like c-cookies.”
Jungkook smiled, reaching for the tray of cookies with different flavors—chocolate chip, walnut, matcha, red velvet, and more you couldn’t even name at a glance.
You kept your eyes fixed on the cookies, forcing yourself not to look at him, especially with how near he was.
“I’ve tried walnut and matcha,” he said, pointing at a few of them.
You pouted and picked the flavor he suggested. He smiled when you chose the matcha, carefully placing the tray back down on the table.
“Do you want milk?” he asked, pointing at the bottle beside the pastries.
You nodded, taking a small bite while he poured a glass for you.
“Thank you…” you said with a shy smile.
He smiled back and stood up to get dressed while you focused on eating the cookies. When he came back, he was wearing a white shirt and black comfy shorts. He sat beside you and took a cookie for himself as well.
Jungkook was patient, sweet, and gentle with you. He occasionally asked about your hobbies, your likes, your favorite food, and small details that only your parents and Mina usually knew.
With a soft, hesitant voice, you slowly opened up—talking about how you became a BTS fan, how long you had followed them, and how much you liked him.
He listened closely, never interrupting, only asking follow-up questions like he was genuinely interested.
His eyes followed your lips whenever you spoke, then shifted to your eyes whenever you looked away. And every time your voice got smaller, he leaned in slightly, as if trying not to miss a single word—especially when you talked about him.
Neither of you mentioned the NDA.
It felt, strangely, like you were simply there to spend time with him.
You honestly thought he wouldn’t talk much, given how shy you were—but Jungkook was unexpectedly patient, giving you space to settle in and feel comfortable around him.
But then
You were giggling about his travel story with Jimin when you noticed his tattooed hands slowly settling around your waist.
“A-And what did he do?” you asked, a little startled.
Jungkook had been talking about some of their personal trips with the members. You were surprised by how open he was with you—the way he spoke during his Weverse lives was exactly the same in person: charming, funny, and easy to talk to.
You hadn’t expected him to answer your small, silly questions, but he was attentive, responding to everything like you had known each other for years. You felt, strangely, at ease.
He pouted slightly, suddenly distracted by the lace ruffles at the hem of your dress, his fingers lightly brushing and playing with them.
“Used all his perfume to spray it on the huge bug.” he chuckled lowly, his eyes still lowered towards your dress.
You giggled, imagining the chaos. “Did the bug get killed?”
Jungkook slowly looked at you, his eyes a little heavy-lidded, his hands still idly playing with the hem of your dress.
“Hmm, no.” he rasped.
Your eyes widened when he pulled you closer, his left arm circling your waist to steady you. His right tattooed hand lifted both your legs across his lap.
“You smell good.” he murmured closely, fingers now toying with the ribbons of your wrap dress.
You gulped harshly, your hands resting awkwardly on his arm for balance. Up close, he could see the details of your makeup—light glitter dusted across your cheeks and eyelids, pink gloss on your lips, a soft blush deepening from warmth, and lashes curled with a hint of mascara.
He lifted a loose strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear, then let his fingers trail lightly along your cheek.
“You dolled up for me?” he said lightly, tilting his head.
His tone had shifted—less careful now, more playful… almost teasing.
“Y-Yes… do you like it?” you asked shyly. It had taken you hours to finish your makeup, hours to pick a dress and style your hair. You were almost embarrassed when you saw that he looked so fresh and handsome after the shower, while you had taken an eternity to get ready.
Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek. He held your face with one hand, almost squishing both of your cheeks. His touch was gentle, but the way he tilted your head to examine your face made you feel weird.
Made you feel wet.
“I do,” he said lowly. “I like the glitters.”
You smiled, a bit more confident now. “Really?” you said happily, leaning a little closer to him. “Matches my doll shoes right?” You moved your toes up and down.
Jungkook nodded, his lazy eyes staring at you, then down at your dress. His hands traced slow circles on your bare thighs, making you tingly.
“I noticed something though…”
“Hmm, what?” you tilted your head curiously.
He pouted. “Your dress has no glitters, babygirl.” He slightly held the end of your dress, as if examining the texture.
You pouted. “Yeah…” You looked down. “B-But—”
Your thoughts were interrupted when he softly kissed your cheek.
“Hmm…” He slowly held the ribbons of your dress, and with one hand, he untied the knot.
“W-Wait—” you gasped, eyes widening when you saw what he was doing.
“It has no glitters, baby… doesn't match your pretty little shoes and makeup." he said in a mocking tone, removing your dress from your shoulders.
“Jungkook…” you said softly, cheeks growing hot under his gaze.
Licking his lower lip, his gaze dropped to your body.
The soft swell of your breasts was hugged perfectly by the white bra you were wearing, matching the delicate fabric of your panties. The small white ribbon resting between your breasts and the top of your underwear caught his attention—something so simple, yet enough to make his cock tighten.
You looked… soft, so pretty, too cute. Ready to be ruined by him.
His hands slowly moved to the straps of your bra “Oh baby…” he said in a cooing tone. “This doesn’t have glitters as well.” He said it like it was a problem. His fingers hooked onto the straps before pulling them away from your skin—only to let them snap back in place, the sting blooming lightly against you.
You were speechless. The way he talked to you, the way he looked at you, the way he played with you—it made your body heat up, a quiet rush of warmth settling low in your stomach.
Your instinct was to cover yourself, but the way he raised a brow at you made you hesitate, a shiver running through you instead. You blinked slowly, caught between nerves and awareness you couldn’t quite name.
“Jungkook, t-this is embarrassing.” you said in a small voice.
You thought you could be confident—years of reading fanfictions had convinced you of that. You were certain you could fuck him better, that you could show him what you were capable of. Make him feel good. Please him. Make him happy.
You had been so sure of yourself...so full of it, even—thinking you could give him the best night of his life.
But the moment he touched you, your mind went completely blank. All rational thoughts slipped away, leaving you flustered and unsure of yourself, shrinking back into a shy, overwhelmed version of you.
Jungkook chuckled sarcastically. You gasped when he suddenly pulled your hair, his lips reaching under your ear to whisper.
“You signed up for this, didn’t you?” he rasped, his lips grazing your earlobe.
You squealed, his dominance eating you alive. His sweet, teasing tone was gone; the way he pulled your hair closer made you shiver.
“Y-Yes,” you bit your lip. You felt his lips move down your neck, his hot breath tickling you.
“Hmm… do you want me to elaborate on what we’re doing here?” he said in a tone like he was talking to a child. You gasped when he slightly bit your neck.
“Sorry, I was j-just—”
He removed your bra quickly, tossing it somewhere before his fingers grazed near the swell of your breast, teasing you.
“Use your pretty little brain, baby, come on…” he said harshly, suddenly pinching your nipples, making you whimper.
Jungkook raised his head to look at you, his pupils dilated. The way he swallowed harshly when he saw your round breast and pink nipples made him leak.
“Do you know…” he whispered under your ear. “How bad…” He slightly slapped your nipple, soothing it afterward by rolling it gently between his fingers. “I wanted to fuck you?”
“J-Jungkook-”
“Look at you… you’ll let me do whatever I want, right?”
You shut your eyes tightly…followed by a slow nod, stunned by his words and actions.
He raised a brow, eyes dropping to your nipples. Your vision almost slipped when he suddenly spat on them, using his fingers to spread it over your breast.
“Yeah? You’ll let me use you?” he said in a low voice, his hands now trailing down the garters of your underwear. “Like a pretty little, sparkly slut that your are.’’
You knew what he wanted...it had been clear from the very beginning. It had already been hours, and you were still shy and hesitant. You wanted this too, but you were scared to make the first move, scared to say or do something that might turn him off.
He, on the other hand, had been patient from the start—letting you settle in, letting you eat, letting you relax, asking you what you wanted, giving you time without rushing you.
You didn’t realize the way his eyes darkened the moment you entered his room—the way they wandered down the valley of your breasts, the way they roamed over your dress that hugged your curves— showing the swell of your hips, the way his gaze followed the pout of your lips. The way your cute little glitters and doll shoes made you look like a proper little slut for him to use.
It’s been more than a year.
Jungkook had been busy with tour, with the group’s latest comeback. He had been working endlessly—promoting their new songs, filming content for a variety of brands, updating his Instagram and TikTok daily for ARMYs, practicing nonstop to show his best on tour. His schedule had been packed for over a year since their comeback.
Now that the tour had finally come to an end, it was his time to relax and unwind.
Jungkook’s stamina was unreal. Despite his busy schedule, there were times he would ask his manager to arrange private, strictly confidential meetings through NDAs.
Unfortunately, their latest tour had been much bigger, making it harder for his manager to coordinate anything outside of his packed schedule. Because of that, for the past months, Jungkook had been letting all of his sexual frustrations by himself.
It started in 2017. At first, he was the one personally choosing and approving everything himself, but after a few years—once his fame and schedule became even more intense—his manager took over the process. It became less personal and more structured, handled carefully behind the scenes.
With his level of fame, everything had to be treated with strict confidentiality and formal documentation.
For years, all the NDAs Jungkook had been involved with stayed quiet—carefully kept private, out of fear of the consequences, but also lingering with the hope of another night with him.
He was a man, after all. With his busy schedule and global fame, there was no room for commitment or long-term relationships. Everything in his life moved too fast, too publicly, too tightly controlled.
Because of that, he relied on brief, private arrangements...carefully managed and kept out of the public eye—to relieve stress and maintain some sense of personal balance amid his packed schedule.
It was almost like something carefully curated over time. He didn’t have a specific type, but his manager knew him well enough to anticipate what he was comfortable with. Over the years, everything had become more structured—quiet introductions, formal agreements, and strict confidentiality before anything could proceed.
After the tour, Jungkook had been particularly insistent on arranging an NDA soon. The long schedule and constant pressure had built up, and he needed a way to release the pent up sexual frustration.
When the team decided to extend their stay in the country after the final stop, his manager quietly began looking into possible private, strictly confidential arrangements handled under NDAs.
It wasn’t urgent—more of a routine precaution when they had extended time in one location. In most cases, it was beneficial if the person involved was already an ARMY, since familiarity with boundaries and expectations made things easier. Over time, most of the people who signed were fans in one way or another, while others were simply individuals who happened to be in the right place at the right time and agreed to the confidentiality terms.
Jungkook himself rarely interfered with the process. He trusted his manager to handle the details, especially during tours and rare breaks when privacy mattered more than anything else. The goal was simple: rest, recovery, and avoiding unnecessary exposure.
That was why his manager moved discreetly when he saw you—subtly noting your presence, your behavior, and your isolation from the crowd before eventually placing a small calling card on your table.
When Jungkook saw you standing in front of him, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, all his rational thoughts slipped away for a moment. You looked so sweet, ready to be used.
Jungkook was unbearably horny.
He wasn’t the type to extend another night, even with a potential NDA—but he was the type who wouldn’t stop fucking you once you stepped into his space. The kind who fucked hard. The kind who took control and dominated you without hesitation. The kind who would leave marks—bruises that lingered long after the night ended. Whether you were the shy type or the bold type, you would fold once he touches you, once he pulls your hair and manoeuvres your body to his own liking.
He’s mean when he fucks, praising you in a degrading way… though he would always start off sweet, to ease the tension, with his usual kind self and bunny smiles.
But, afterwards?
He would fuck you like a dirty whore, play with you like a little toy, use you like a cum dump.
When he noticed how hesitant and vulnerable you were, he took the lead by making sure you were comfortable at first. But his patience was running thin. Your sweet scent engulfed his senses—your soft voice and small giggles, your shy smile and twinkling eyes—it all made his cock twitch.
It had been months—too long without a proper release. At first, he wanted to take his sweet time with you, but your hesitance and shy demeanor were driving him crazy. Jungkook wanted to bend you over and fuck your unused holes, wanted to wrap his hands around your neck, wanted to fuck your pretty mouth until you were gagging and crying for him, wanted to feel your warm pussy wrapped around him until he could no longer think straight.
He forcefully ripped your underwear, leaving red marks on your thighs. Your body was now fully exposed to him.
“Pretty girl,” he mused, when his gaze dropped at your pussy, you instinctively closed your legs.
He gripped your thighs, forcing them open so he could look at your cunt. “Pretty little pussy.” he whispered, staring at your cunt with a faint shine visible from your wetness. “Acting so shy yet your pussy is soaking.”
“Jungkook, p-please…” you pleaded, slightly moving your legs.
“Aww, a few moments ago you wouldn’t let me see you. Now you’re pleading, hmm?” he cooed.
Your breath hitched when his index finger traced the slit of your cunt, gathering your juices.
“Oh, t-that’s—” you whimpered.
You were long gone.
He was making you so wet and turned on. Not that you weren’t already—your shyness was already getting the best of you—but the moment he took the lead, whatever composure you had left began to slip away. Your thoughts scattered, your attention narrowing to him alone, your body reacting in a way that made you feel both overwhelmed and helplessly aware of him.
Your eyes widened when he licked the finger that had gathered your wetness, staring at you while his tongue rolled over it.
“Hmm, you taste so good.” his finger, now wet with saliva, went back down your cunt to gather your juices again, bringing it to his mouth to taste it once more.
“Do you taste yourself?”
“N-No, I haven’t,” you admitted shyly.
He placed his wet finger on your lip. “Open,” he said sharply, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
You slowly opened your mouth, his finger immediately sliding in so you could taste yourself.
“That’s it… twirl your tongue, baby.” You obediently twirled your tongue around his finger, your saliva dripping down his hand messily. His cock twitched at the sight, he pulled his finger from your mouth with a soft pop.
“Get on the bed and spread your legs.” slapping your thigh lightly to urge you up.
You were almost dizzy, his words barely registering in your mind… you stood up, almost stumbling, but Jungkook caught your waist firmly.
“Careful, baby.” he chuckled lowly, your cheeks heating up in response.
Your legs felt weak as you made your way to the bed, Jungkook following behind. When you bent down to remove your doll shoes, he held your arm to stop you.
“Leave them.”
“O-Okay,” your brows furrowed, slowly sitting on the bed with your doll shoes still on.
Jungkook raised a brow at you. “Raise your legs on the bed.”
“But my shoes…” you pouted.
Jungkook chuckled, crouching down to level with your face. “It has glitters, baby. No need to remove it.”
You blinked slowly, the realization settling in as you recalled his earlier comment about your dress and undergarments not having any glitter details.
Raising your feet, you let your doll shoes rest on the mattress. Your legs were folded as you adjusted yourself, your wet cunt fully exposed under his gaze.
Jungkook’s hand moved absently over his shorts as he looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his attention fixed on your wet pussy. “Spread wider, baby. Hold your ankles for me.”
You spread your legs wider, holding your ankles, making yourself open for him. Your juices leaked down onto the mattress, giving him a clear view. Your cheeks and neck turned red from what you were doing for him.
“That’s it, wider.” he groaned, removing his shirt and shorts in one go. Your arms almost gave out when you saw him naked in front of you.
He was so huge—his cock red and veiny, precum leaking from the tip, his hand gripping himself, rolling the foreskin, pumping more wetness onto his mushroom head.
Jungkook moved closer, looking down at your cunt while palming himself shamelessly. “Do you like how I touch my cock?’’
You whimpered when his other hand went down to you, his middle finger sliding into your hole easily. The wet squelching sound filled the room.
“Slut,” he whispered.
Using your wetness, he spread it around his cock like lubricant, mixing it with his precum. “You’re so wet baby, my good little whore.”
You whined, your arms growing tired from the position. When you tried to let go of your ankles, Jungkook slapped your pussy.
“Keep them open,” he said harshly, squeezing his cock tighter, releasing more precum at the tip.
“Let me see your pretty holes, yeah?” His cheeks hollowed as he gathered saliva and spat onto your exposed cunt, letting it drip inside your wanting hole.
“Jungkook, p-please… I can’t anymore,” you whined, your body clenching around nothing. You wanted him to touch you.
“Shh, be a good doll and stay still, yeah?” he groaned, spitting down on his cock, spreading it along his shaft as he pumped faster while looking at you.
It was so overwhelming—the way he looked at you while touching himself made you so wet.
“P-Please, t-touch me.” you pleaded, your eyes glossy with need, whining when you felt more of your juices spill onto the bed.
Jungkook groaned, “Be a good fucking slut and watch me touch my cock.”
It was obscenely dirty—watching him touch his cock so fast, his gaze locked on your pussy. Every now and then, he’d gather your slick with his fingers, spreading it along his length, making himself even wetter, even more desperate.
And just when it looked like he was about to cum—he stopped.
His hand tightened around the tip, squeezing just enough to hold himself back, dragging the moment out, edging himself with a restraint that only made it worse.
“Fuck!” he quickly kneeled down in front of you, his face now very close to your pussy. When you looked down, your eyes fluttered when you saw him staring closely at your twitching hole.
“You look so tight,” he groaned, his finger tracing your cunt lightly.
“Koo…” you moaned, already shaking from the contact.
He kissed your inner thigh, occasionally biting the soft skin to leave marks. When you were already getting too whiny, he leaned in closer, his tongue pushing inside you.
“Oh, Jungkook—” you moaned loudly, the feeling of his hot tongue inside your hole making you quiver. He was pushing his tongue so deep, like he wanted to collect all your juices.
“Mhm,” he moaned, the vibration giving soft pulses down your clit. He collected all your juices, sucking them as much as possible, going deeper and deeper just to spit it right back up on your swollen clit.
“Oh my gosh—” you whimpered. He was making you as messy as possible. When he wrapped his lips around your clit to suck, you almost saw stars from the pleasure, the sensation pulsating through your whole body making you roll your eyes back.
“You like that?” he murmured while sucking your clit, his tatted finger going inside your hole, releasing more juices from you.
You nodded almost instantly, holding your ankle tighter. When he nipped harshly on your clit, you almost dropped your legs, shaking from how good his lips and tongue felt. He looked up at you, still sucking your clit while inserting another finger inside you, instantly brushing your sensitive spot.
The way his middle and ring finger brushed your g-spot made your clit pulse. With the pressure of his lips around your clit, you were close to cumming.
“Jungkook, I-I’m gonna…”
“Go ahead baby, wanna eat your cum,” he whispered against your cunt, sucking harder, his fingers moving aggressively inside you.
You were shaking. When you felt your high building, you almost pushed him away, letting go of your ankles to grip his hair.
“Jungkook! S-Stop,” you pleaded weakly. The pleasure was too much, too intense. His pace did not falter, his hand pressing your lower stomach down.
When he removed his fingers, you thought he was done, but he immediately rubbed your clit in circles, spitting down on your hood while holding your wriggling body in place.
You moaned loudly… his fingers, his mouth, his spit—all of it pushed you over the edge. You came so hard you almost fainted.
He still didn’t stop- you were overstimulated, trying to push him away, but he wouldn’t let you, drawing more release out of you. The pressure of his fingers dragged you into another climax, making you squirt messily around him, splashing his face, his neck, his body.
“S-stop, please Koo…” you cried, shaking uncontrollably as you squirted again. His fingers still didn’t stop. His dark eyes stayed fixed on your swollen pussy, amusement etched across his face.
“Messy girl, good job baby.” he cooed, giving your pussy a light slap to coax out the remaining slick.
Your cheeks were wet with tears, your body weak from orgasm. He leaned down, holding your cheeks gently to make you look at him.
“Poor baby, let me wipe your tears, hmm?”
He leaned down, licking your tears slowly, his hot tongue dragging wetly across your cheeks.
You whimpered, your body barely holding itself together. His lips moved down to your nipple, sucking the hard bud softly, while his other hand caressed your other breast, pinching and rolling your nipples.
His throbbing cock grinds against your spent pussy, his swollen tip smearing messily against your slit, spreading his precum all over your cunt.
“Koo…” you said softly, still tired and hazy from your release.
His mouth moved to your other nipple, his teeth tugging slightly, making you gasp. You were certain you would have bruises—the way he sucked your nipple mirrored how he had sucked your clit, lingering just enough to draw a reaction, coating it in spit before taking it fully into his mouth.
“Baby, can you feel how hard I am for you?” he whispered, his cock grinding slowly against your wet pussy, his tip brushing your clit… making you wetter again. “Do you know how long I wanted to fuck a nice warm pussy?” He grabbed your neck, your lips parting instinctively. He took the chance to spit into your mouth, leaning down to slip his tongue in messily, swallowing your moans and protests. His grip tightened each time you whimpered.
“Been touching my hard cock for months baby,” His movements were slow, deliberate—drawing arousal back into your body. “Need your tight pussy so bad.” The way he rolled his hips against you, the way he silenced you with his tongue so no protests could leave your mouth.
“You wanted this?” he groaned against your lips, releasing your neck only to squeeze your breast harshly.
“Ouch, Koo—”
“Answer me,” he said sharply, tapping your right cheek.
“I w-want this,” you said with glossy eyes, small hands gripping his arm tightly.
He tilted his head at you. “Yeah? You wanted to be fucked like a slut don’t you?” he taunted, sitting up to squeeze his cock, teasing himself by twirling his index finger over his tip. “Are you a slut? hmm?”
You nodded weakly. “Would do anything for y-you.’’ you said shyly.
Jungkook raised a brow, standing up at the edge of the bed. “Come here then, crawl to me.”
It was degrading, the way he treats you like a slut for him to use… yet it makes you wetter, makes you hornier. You crawl towards him like a good whore, looking up at him with pleading, sparkly eyes. Your makeup is ruined, your hair disheveled, your doll shoes still intact, making you look like a ruined sex doll.
“Good girl, now wrap your hands around my cock.” he rasped, holding the base out for you. When your small, shaky hands felt his veiny shaft, you almost came again. It twitched in your grip, hard and flushed red at the tip.
He groaned. “Spit on it, baby. Make it nice and wet for me.”
You spat on his cock, spreading it around the base before moving your hands up and down, rolling the foreskin as you worked him. He moaned loudly, head tipping back, jaw clenched, sweat forming across the expanse of his chest.
“That’s it, what a good little whore.” he praised, caressing your hair.
You tried your best to make him feel good. You raised your other hand, spitting into your palm and spreading it together with his precum.
Jungkook groaned at the sight. Using both of your hands, you made a twisting motion along his length, looking up at him like a good girl.
“I w-want you,” you said with a bit of confidence.
Jungkook cursed under his breath. “Suck my cock.” He slapped your hands away, then pulled your hair, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth. His breath hitched when he felt you gag around him, your nose pressed against his pelvis, your eyes turning watery.
“Take it,” he groaned harshly, guiding your head up and down like you were his personal fleshlight. You tried your best to take him, even though he was so big in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.
It was sloppy and nasty. Your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock, tracing the mushroom tip while you hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard. Spit and precum was leaking down your chin, your eyes glossy and red, the way you twirled your tongue to trace the veins of his cock made him groan.
“Hands behind your back,” he panted.
You immediately did what he said, your body fully under his control. When he pushed deeper, your face pressed against his pubic hair. You choked, saliva and precum bubbling at the corners of your mouth, you want to tap his leg, the air in your lungs limited.
“You look so pretty with my cock- fuck! I’m gonna cum.” he grunted, keeping you close until you felt the liquid heat spreading inside your throat. He forced you to swallow, keeping your face snug against his pelvis so not a single drop would spill.
When he released your head, you almost collapsed onto the bed. Your eyes were red, your mouth slightly bruised, and your neck ached from the way he had angled your face. Due to exhaustion, you let him maneuver your body, pushing you down and flipping you over.
“Bend over, baby. I’m not done using you.”
He was still hard, giving his cock a few more pumps before guiding it towards your pussy.
“Open your pussy, baby. Be a useful slut and spread yourself for me.”
With weak hands, you reached back to spread yourself for him, opening your folds. Your wetness leaked down your inner thighs.
“Look at you. You just came, yet your pussy already wants more… dripping all over my sheets like a whore.” he said mockingly.
You whimpered. “P-please, f-fuck me.” You were almost crying, your arms tired and your body aching from the position, but you wanted to please him so badly, wanted him to use you till you could no longer take it anymore.
Jungkook chuckled behind you. You thought he would tease you again, but you gasped when he suddenly pushed his cock inside you. Despite your earlier orgasm, the stretch was still painful, making you scream into the sheets.
“You’re so tight, fuck.” he groaned, looking down at his cock getting swallowed by your tight pussy.
He leaned down, pressing your head down further, his cock pushing deeper and deeper, making you squirm in both pleasure and pain.
“Fucking slut, so tight around daddy.” he whispered, your face buried in the sheets.
You clenched around him, whining against the mattress.
“Oh, you like that?” he taunted, pushing deeper until he reached your g-spot.
You could feel every drag of his cock inside you—his veins, his mushroom tip. The stretch was so good you were close to cumming, clenching around him as he fucked you deeper.
“Stop that, baby, I’m gonna cum.” he almost laughed, pulling your hair up so he could see your face. “Want to fuck you for hours, baby. I’m gonna use your tiny hole till daddy can’t release cum anymore. Do you want that?”
You whimpered, “Yes, d-daddy.”
He groaned harshly; the way you called him made him even hornier. He pulled out and shifted down on his side, pulling your body snug against his chest, your back pressed against him. “Keep your legs up,” he whispered, holding his cock and directing it against your leaking hole.
You didn’t expect to be fucked by Jungkook sideways. He held your waist while driving his hard cock into you, your legs spread wide in the air as his lips nipped harshly at your neck.
“Feels so g-good, daddy.” you moaned, your body bouncing slightly from the force of the way he was fucking you.
Jungkook bit your neck, his hands moving down to rub your clit. “Uhuh, daddy’s gonna fill you with so much cum and you’re gonna hold it like a good girl.’’
You moaned, trying to bite your moans back, but Jungkook slapped your clit harshly. “Moan louder,” he groaned, his balls hitting your ass as he pushes his cock all the way out just to push it harder all the way in.
“J-Jungkook.” you moaned, eyes rolling back.
“Louder.”
“Jungkook!” you moaned louder.
“Good girl,” he chuckled behind you, his fingers coming back down to rub your clit again.
You could feel your cum dripping down your thighs, the loud squelching sound of his cock fucking into your pussy and his deep groans pushing you to the edge. When he gave your clit a good rub, you came all over his cock, your pussy clenching around his girth, releasing so much cum. You held his wrist to stop him, your thighs shaking—you were certain you almost drooled from the deep pulses your cunt was producing.
Jungkook groaned behind you. You gasped weakly when he removed himself inside your twitching pussy, your cum leaking onto the mattress, but he immediately lowered his head to catch your cum, wasting no drop.
“I c-cant, too much!” you cried.
Jungkook held your thighs firmly, slurping all your juices like a starved man. When he raised his head, his chin and nose were wet from your arousal. Using both his index fingers, he opened your hood, exposing your puffy clit. He leaned down to suck it, and you gasped when you felt your cum and his warm saliva spreading.
“Oh daddy,” you moaned, another wave of pleasure rolling through your body.
He looked up at you, his tongue giving kitten licks on your clit. “Are you daddy’s good girl?” he murmured against it, his thumb circling the bud, the dual sensation making you lose your mind. “Do you like how daddy eats your pussy?”
“Yes daddy, it f-feels nice.”
“Nice?” Jungkook chuckled, sucking his thumb before rubbing his spit all over your clit. “Is this nice?” he mocked, looking at your bud as it looked so swollen and pink.
“Describe nice for me,” he growled before standing up, carrying you with him. Your thighs wrapped around his waist as he walked beside the large mirror. Using both of his hands, he held your ass and pushed his cock inside your used hole, using almost no strength to lift your body just to push you up and down around his hard cock.
You could see your reflection in the mirror—the way he used your body to pleasure himself, the way his biceps flexed every time he pushed and pulled you against him. He carried you like a feather, your body like a used, fucked-up sex doll.
“Is this… nice?” he mocked you, his lips parted as he looked at your pleasured face. He could feel your juices dripping down his muscular thighs. He chuckled at you. “Too dumb to answer, baby? Is my cock making you feel so good?”
You squealed, gripping his arms tightly as your body bounced up and down. He was going so fast, his hips snapping against you, pushing up while forcing you down, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.
“Gonna cum, baby. Would you hold my cum inside like what I taught you?” he panted, his thrusts getting sloppy, his eyes hazy.
“Y-Yes daddy.”
Jungkook groaned, his hands gripping your ass hard, enough that it hurt. His cock drilled in so deep that you whimpered when he pulled your body close, forcing you down as he spilled all of his warm cum inside you. He groaned beside your ear, biting your neck through his intense orgasm, balls deep and snug against your ass. Your legs were shaking...you felt so full. You tried to move, but his grip was too strong. You could feel all of his cum filling your pussy, and it was so much that you could feel some of it dripping down your legs.
You thought he was done when he removed his cock inside you. Your legs wobbled as he quickly set you down on the bed, his hands palming your pussy as if to keep his cum inside you. Your eyes almost went out of their sockets when you saw that he was still hard.
“Raise your legs,” he rasped, gripping his cock from the base as he spread the cum that was left on his girth.
When you weakly raised your legs, he could see how much cum was inside your pussy, threatening to spill out.
“Touch yourself, push my cum deeper,” he said with serious eyes while staring at your hole.
Your eyes widened. “J-Jungkook, t-thats-”
‘’Come on baby, daddy’s waiting.”
You gulped harshly. He was slowly rubbing his swollen cock, teasing the tip while waiting for you to move. Your small hand slowly reached down to your hole, pushing his cum deeper, but some of it spilled onto the bed. You tried your best to push it in further, but your past orgasm was still overstimulating you.
“Like this, d-daddy?’’ you said shyly.
Jungkook groaned, staring at his cum in your tight hole. “Good job baby, can you add another finger for me?”
You added another finger. It was a lot easier to push his cum deeper, but your pussy was getting sensitive. You were whimpering—the fact that he was just staring at you while rubbing his mushroom tip made you chase another high you didn’t even realize was coming. The pad of your fingers brushing against your g-spot with his cum felt so good, forcing you into another mind-blowing orgasm. The fact that you came just from pushing his cum deeper felt so dirty.
“Oh my gosh, I-fuck..” you were convulsing. You removed your fingers, trying to close your thighs shut, but Jungkook held your legs. He quickly inserted his hard cock, you were still pulsating and the feeling of his cock replacing your fingers extended your orgasm, your wet pussy clenching and unclenching around his cock.
“Fuck you feel so good, Daddy didn’t stretch you enough huh? You’re still fucking tight.” he growled, his hips making a rolling motion as his fingers pinched your nipples harshly.
Your tongue was almost out, your pussy still quivering, your clit so sensitive that even the feeling of his pubic hair brushing against it felt incredibly intense.
“Gonna fuck that tight little pussy till your loose, so that everytime you touch yourself your fingers would be too small for your gaping hole.” he grunted, his hands holding both of your wrists above your head, his other hand gripping your throat. He was fucking you so hard that your body was bouncing up. He crouched down to lick your sweaty neck, then moved down to your underarm, licking your sweat messily. You tried to move your arms, but his hold was firm, licking your other underarm and creating a huge wet mess.
“I-I’m close,” you choked, chasing another orgasm, overwhelmed by how many times you had come—you were certain your pussy would be numb after this.
“Hold it, you slut.” he bit the swell of your breast causing you to scream.
He held your body up, then laid down on the bed while holding your waist, placing you on top of him.
“Ride my cock.”
Desperate for release, you positioned your body in front of him, but Jungkook stopped you.
“On your back, babygirl.” he tapped your thighs.
Your cheeks reddened as you positioned your body with your back facing him. When you sank down, you immediately moaned, your ass against his lower stomach. The stretch felt so good, the veins on his cock filling your spongey walls perfectly.
“That’s it, make daddy proud.” he groaned, holding your waist while you moved up and down on him. Your legs were aching, but you didn’t care. When you felt his right tattooed hand slapping your ass, you almost came.
“You look so pretty.” you heard him whisper, his hand caressing your ass, your brows furrowed when his hand went deeper. “Lower your body for me.”
Confused and a bit dazed, you lowered your body while still riding him. You shrieked loudly when his fingers played with your exposed rim, circling around the hole. You held his thighs, squeezing them hard when he tried to push his thumb in, the stretch making you shiver.
“Would you let me fuck you here, baby?’’ he whispered, pushing this thumb deeper, your tight walls swallowing him.
You haven’t done that before—you can’t even imagine it. He was the first man who touched you there. You were in so deep that you desperately nodded, clenching around his cock as the thought excited you.
He chuckled, “You’re so dirty baby, gonna let me fill all your holes hmm?”
You nodded again. “Yes, only for you J-Jungkook.”
“Yeah? you love me that much huh? I bet you hump your little cooky plushies thinking it’s my hard cock instead.”
He removed his thumb from your ass just to insert his middle and index finger, causing you to scream at the stretch. "Tell me baby, how many times have you masturbated huh?" Your movements slowed down from the sensation.
“Do you fantasize about me? Fantasize about your bias fucking your slutty holes?’’ he taunted, pushing his fingers deeper, his hips pushing up to meet your thrusts.
It was embarrassing; you didn’t answer, afraid to admit the dirty things you did every time you thought of Jungkook—afraid to admit how dirty you were behind your shy demeanor and innocent looks. You liked him so much, idolized him for years, dreamed about meeting him, dreamed about attending his concert, and in your most hidden fantasies… you dreamed about being his girlfriend, what it feels like to be loved by him, to be fucked by him.
“Hmm, baby? I bet you do,” he chuckled.
He removed his fingers, slapping your ass cheeks, then flipping you down onto the bed. “My dirty little girl, touching her little holes while thinking about her bias.”
You couldn’t maintain eye contact, your fingers fiddling with the sheets when he went down to grind his cock against your pussy, both of his arms beside your head.
“Aww baby, are you shy?” he cooed, pushing his cock inside you, trying to find the angle that hits your spot.
You pouted, your eyes a bit hesitant. He held your cheeks so you would look at him. “Don’t worry… daddy’s here, I’m gonna fuck you so good and make your dreams come true.”
He spit into your parted mouth, urging you to swallow before fucking mercilessly into your tight hole. He held your thighs, almost folding you in half. Your pussy was so stretched and swollen. He leaned down to whisper moans in your ear, his movements so fast you were impressed by his stamina at this point.
“Cum with me baby,” he panted, his thrusts getting sloppy, his mushroom tip hitting the right spot.
Jungkook forced you into another orgasm. You thought you wouldn’t cum, but your pussy was pulsating so badly, his cock still drilling inside you.
He let out a strained growl, his breathing turning heavier with each passing second. When you felt him cumming, he removed his cock from your pussy… quickly inserting it into your other unused hole.
You screamed loudly, the stretch sudden and painful… you could feel his cock pushing his cum deep inside your ass, the sensation making you shake and cry. When you tried to move, he held your waist tightly, balls snug so he could keep his warm cum inside.
He kissed your cheek, “So good for me, so pretty, so tight.” he whispered.
You thought he was done, but when he kissed you hard, his tongue dominating yours, you realized he wasn’t fully sated yet. He pulled you onto the nearest table, bending you over, your hands gripping it for support.
“Lift your leg here, baby,” he instructed, lifting your other leg so you were exposed to him.
The memories were hazy—you remembered him fucking you on the table while your cheeks burned red from the way he pushed you down. You could see the reflection in the mirror, your doll shoes still intact, the table wet from your drool. After that, he fucked your breasts, urging you to suck the tip like a good little whore.
Every time you thought he was done, he would pull you back again, whispering dirty praises about how you were such a good slut for him. His stamina was so impressive, and you were also impressed that you managed to stay awake the whole time.
Even when he was washing you up, he was very sweet, washing your hair and body, yet his fingers were still trailing down your swollen pussy. You protested, but he told you not to worry, saying, “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna rub the pain away,” while rubbing your pussy in slow circles, causing you to release another orgasm in the shower.
Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt him spreading your legs, whispering. “Last one pretty girl, let me leave you a present when you wake up, yeah? All nice and wet in the morning.”
It felt almost unreal—like something pulled from a dream you weren’t fully ready to believe had happened.
When you woke up, Jungkook was no longer there.
Your body felt heavy, drained in a way that made even small movements difficult. You shifted under the covers, blinking slowly as reality started to settle in piece by piece.
The room was quiet. When you sat up, your gaze fell to your doll shoes placed neatly nearby.
You stared at them for a long moment, your chest tightening in a way you couldn’t quite explain. A quiet reminder that last night had not been a dream.
You weakly stood up, wearing a comfy oversized shirt you were certain was his. Walking over to the table, you noticed a set of breakfast meals laid out—eggs, waffles, bacon, fruits, and a pitcher of orange juice.
Still a bit dazed, you sat down on the couch and stared at the food in front of you, your mind struggling to catch up with reality. Last night still felt distant, almost unreal...like something your brain hadn’t fully accepted yet. But every time you shifted slightly and felt the marks on your skin, the memory returned sharply.
It was real.
You knew the rules. You would never see him again, you would never contact him again, and anything that happened that night would stay with you—carried quietly, taken to your grave.
Your eyes grew teary, not because you regretted it, but because some part of you wished it didn’t end so quickly.
Wished it lasted longer.
You knew better...that you and him were not in a fairytale. You wouldn’t be the special girl who eventually ends up with him. You weren’t inside some ridiculous fanfiction where he would text you afterward, telling you he missed you, that he wanted to see you again, that he might even love you.
Pure fiction.
Looking at the food in front of you, your eyes caught a small folded paper tucked beside the plate.
When you opened it, you had expected something sweet—maybe a cute note, maybe his number. You already knew the number he used wasn’t personal anyway, just an exclusive one-night line tied to the NDA.
“Dollshoes.”
It was written quickly, but you recognized his handwriting immediately.
You looked around and spotted a paper bag beside the bed. You stood up at once, walking towards it, your hands already shaking before you even reached it.
Carefully, you opened it.
Inside was a pair of glittery doll shoes.
You searched for a note, but there was none.
You pouted slightly, your heart still skipping at the small gesture. It wasn’t much—but it was something. At least he had left something for you.
It had been months since that night, but you would never forget it.
You told no one—not Mina, not anyone, not even in passing. You were almost afraid that speaking it out loud would make it less real… or worse, make you forget it entirely, reducing it to something that only felt like a dream.
Over the months, something else slowly clicked into place.
While reviewing your notes one day, your eyes drifted absentmindedly to your tote bag. Only then did you notice the small cooky keychain attached to it.
It had to have been what his manager saw.
A quiet sense of relief settled in you then—knowing that despite changing bags since that day, you had never taken it off.
You also tried to think harder—why did he give you a pair of doll shoes? Does he do that with all his hookups? Does he give them a farewell gift too after sleeping with them?
The thought left a strange mix in your chest. A little sadness and a little jealousy you couldn’t quite justify.
And yet, the doll shoes still felt like a strong reminder that you were once his...like he gave you something so you wouldn’t forget him.
Sometimes you would even wonder if everything that happened was only your imagination. His manager’s contact number, Jungkook’s number—gone from your phone. The NDA had included a strict no-contact clause, and everything tied to that night had disappeared with it.
Afterward, you didn’t see them anymore, and you had no idea whether they had even stayed in the country or left immediately.
The moment the marks on your body began to fade, you almost cried—like something of him was slowly slipping away from you too.
Wearing the doll shoes he gave you, you sat in a nice outdoor coffee shop with your laptop and a hot latte.
It had been almost a year.
Despite the beautiful view around you, your attention was fixed on your screen. You were writing a paper—your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment longer than necessary, like they understood something you didn’t want to admit.
You had been careful. Writing the details with precaution.
You changed the places, the countries, the names. You rewrote reality until it no longer belonged to anyone but you. Until it couldn’t be traced back—not to him, not to that night, not to the NDA that should have never felt real in the first place.
You even made sure to hide it in plain sight.
Just another fanfiction.
Just another story.
Just enough to protect yourself.
Just enough to protect him.
Your foot tapped lightly beneath the table, uneven, restless. A habit you picked up a year ago. A habit you never lost.
And then you wrote it—the memory still too fresh to feel like a memory at all.
“Please, please, please!” you whispered to yourself, fingers crossed tightly as you stared at the three screens in front of you.
And for a brief second—you wondered if anyone would believe it was just fiction.
rough, edging, multiple orgasms, f-recieving oral, fingering, creampie, no mercy, etc.
18+ nsfw, one shot.
1.2k words
A yellowed recipe card tucked inside a thrift store find. One side tells you a delicious recipe for dinner. The other tells him exactly how to take you apart while it cooks. Can you handle it?
☆ ☆ ☆
It was found inside of family style cookbook at the back of a thrift store for just three dollars. Wedged between a water damaged Julia Child and a stained Betty Crocker. The spine was cracked, as the pages were soft with age. Very well loved. Tucked inside, on a heavy yellowed stock that looked like it survived 3 kitchen remodels and maybe one small fire, was a single recipe card.
Front side, neat and faded:
Slow Roasted Chicken with Lemon and Thyme.
Serves 2
Preheat 325°. Rub bird with oil, salt, pepper, zest of one lemon, leaves from six thyme sprigs. Roast 1 hr 40 min, basting every 20. Rest for 10. Carve at table. Enjoy.
Tart and earthy. Seems familiar. Easy enough.
Back side, different handwriting. Darker ink, sharper pressure, and no hesitation:
Same bird. Same times. While it cooks: hands only, no mouths yet. 20 min mark: two fingers, slow, until dripping enough to take three. Stretch open. Feel how wet. 40 min: switch. Use the wooden spoon handle if needed; I prefer her opening. Make her fuck herself on it while I watch. 60 min: edge her twice. Stop both times the second her thighs shake, and her cunt starts fluttering. Leave her dripping and empty. 80 min: bend her over the counter, still no mouths. Use the warm oil from the pan. Fuck her deep and slow until she’s dripping down her thighs. Pull out clean at the timer. 1 hr 40: rest the bird. Rest her. Keep her open with your fingers so she stays wet. Then mouths. Lick every drop. Then everything else. Carve at table. Enjoy.
Your boyfriend read the back outloud. You listened intently, jaw. fucking. dropped. What the hell?? Who wrote this??
"Oh, we’re doing this," he clears his voice.
"That was in the book?! I just wanted dinner." You exclaim.
"I think that's just the appetizer. Dessert will be different." A smug look appears on the pretty mans face.
"I mean.. if it makes it taste better."
~
The chicken went into the oven at 7:12. The aroma of lemon and thyme filled the kitchen. You stood at the counter, palms pressing the cold marble, in nothing but one of his black shirts. Jungkook washed his hands slowly, then stepped behind you. Your breath hitched.
At twenty minutes the timer chimed. One hand grabs your soft of your breast, kneading intently, swiping your hardened nipple. The other slides below, found you already slick.
"Fuck, youre wet already," he muttered, gently pushing two fingers into your core. Thick, deliberate curling. He worked them slow, scissoring and stretching you open. Wet sounds filled the kitchen. Oh so good.
"Feel that? Taking me so easy."
When he added the third finger you gasped and braced hard. Trying your hardest to speak, your lungs not giving you a chance.
"Thats it. Drip for me." He kept the pace exact. Tattooed knuckled deep, thumbs merely swiping your clit until you were openly making a mess on the floor.
Forty minutes. You turned, flushing, eyes dark; reaching for the wooden spoon. This recipe really knows its shit.
"You wanna watch?" you asked.
"Slow. Fuck yourself slow."
You braced on foot onto a stool, spreading your so sensitive self open with two fingers. Feeding the handle into your cunt inch by inch. You fucked yourself on it, slow at first, but you couldn't help yourself. Swifly pulling in and out harder with each tug. The wet slap of it audible, your juices running down. This too much. You love it. The way it watches you. His brown eyes never leaving yours. The bulge of his sweatpants getting larger and larger. You're beautiful.
"Christ, look at you," he mumbles, palming his twitching erection. "Taking that spoon like you need it. You want more than that dont you?"
A sudden rush takes over you. Finishing with a broken moan, thighs instinctively slamming shut.
"Thats it. Good girl,' Voice rough and hungry.
~
Sixty minutes. He had your back against the counter, once again, two fingers buried deep, thumbs relentless on your bud. The left of his hand tightly wrapped around the nape of your neck forcing you upright.
"Dont you fucking come," he warned. Like the tease he always was, brining you right to the edge never letting you hit the peak. Twitching out of control, your heat fluttering hard, your stomach twisting, and fresh gush coating his hand. And then- stopped dead. He pulled out.
You whimpered, hips chasing that high. "Kookie please-"
"No. Card says twice." He waited until you calmed. Then he did it per instructions, working at you until you were trembling and cursing under your breath. That second detail left you open and empty. Thighs and counter shiny, as you visibly clench on nothing. How much more can you take?
"Meanie." you sighed,
"You love it."
~
At eighty minutes, the kitchen was thick with the delicious smell of sex. And roast, of course. Soon enough, the tall man had bent you over the table, tearing the sweat-covered shirt off your figure. Spitting in the palm of his hands, he slicked the length of his perfect cock.
"Ready?"
"Hurry."
He pushed into you nice and deep, watching your blushed lips stretch around him. Long measured strokes, bottoming out each time. Balls wet against you, slapping with the hum of the warm oven.
"So fucking wet," He groaned, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Do it."
And with that, you came all at once. Your head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, everything's white . He doesn't stop. Fucking you through it, steady, until the timer went off.
With a huff, he pulled out clean, both your pussy and his cock glistening. Turning you around to wipe the hair sticking from your forehead. "Rest," he said, voice tight. Slipping two fingers, once more inside you the whole ten minutes. Just holding you open, admiring the sight, feeling you pulse around him.
"You're leaking all over my hand." His fingers at the point were all pruned up.
"Your fault." You tease with a scrunch of your nose.
Then the final written instruction.
Jungkook lifted your weight onto the counter like you weighed nothing. Spread your legs wide. That first long lick from perineum to clit made you jolt and shoot your hand out to tangle in his black hair. Oh god.
He ate you like the card demanded. Intentional. Thorough. His tongue flat and filthy, tracing the figure 8. "Taste so fucking good," he muttered against you. With his grip on your inner thighs and yours stuck in his hair, you came for the third time that night, aggressively grinding against his mouth, flooding his tongue. Fuck.
Only then did he stand, line himself up and fuck you properly. No more timing. Starvation.
"Inside," you plead. "Come inside me. Please!"
Of course he did. Pulsing deep with a low groan of your name. His lips quickly cling onto yours for the first time of the night, tongues fighting against each other as you both hum and enjoy the taste of one another.
As he lets himself go, all you feel is his hot cum leak out around his cock. Purposely clenching to milk him for all he's got. Delicious.
~
You carved the chicken at the dining table the way the front of the card required. Juices ran down your wrists- chicken and otherwise. Feeding him a piece with the tips of your fingers as he licked them clean.
Later, you turned the card over and wrote one new line at the bottom in your own handwriting:
Next time: Same bird. Start earlier. Dont pull out.
Jungkook read it, smiled, and underlined the last three words twice.
☆ ☆ ☆
damn this made me hungry. this was easily the dirtiest one ive written god damn. am I making a come back?? tbh this one was written in a rush so let’s ignore the fact that it’s a little bit everywhere. anyways, thank u guys so much for the attention on other works im so so happy you guys love it and i hope u love this one as much as I did. enjoy!!
~
note: i hardly proofread my work for spelling and grammar. bare with me till i get the motivation to edit them :p
minors do not interact, horror au, warnings mentioned in the m.list, note at the end.
prologue ::
𝗹𝘂𝘃𝗶’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: the rest of the fic will be in written format! the prologue is smau since that’s how they first meet — through online conversations /// chapter 01 will be released on 22 august (saturday), but you can get early access to it on my patreon here: [ ch. 01 early access ] !! it’s available through my archive tier, where you can also find extra benefits/bonus content!
also erm hi, hru bbys lol (dw i have other normal fics that ill be posting soon!) this is just a lil smt that im writing for myself <3
❤︎ ࣪WARNINGSִֶָ🪽་༘ | MDNI CONTENT | +18 | SMUT | EXPLICIT LANGUAGE | EXPLICIT CONTENT | DOM! JK | SUB! READER | HUMILIATION KINK | A LITTLE PRAISE FOR MOTIVATION | ORAL SEX (F! RECEIVING) | VAGINAL PENETRATION | DACRYPHILIA | DENIAL OF ORGASM | SEX IN FRONT OF A MIRROR | SEX IN A PUBLIC PLACE | PUNISHMENT | JK IS CRUEL, BUT HE LOVES YOU | AND MUCH MORE...
NOTE: Please do not publish my texts without permission. Aside from that, if you liked my work, please comment, follow me, and reblog🙃❤️.
"If you move one more time, I swear I'm not letting you cum for a whole damn month," Jungkook whispered against your skin, his words coming through gritted teeth as he pinched your clitoris again, almost painful.
Her response died in a mix of muffled moans and disjointed protests against the fabric of her own panties, which now served as a gag over her mouth. Her sweaty back stuck to the cold mirror of the cramped fitting room cubicle, and her legs only stayed upright because his hands were holding her up, his fingers digging into her thigh with an uncomfortable, possessive grip.
"What was that, huh? Did you think your little stunt in the hallway was going to earn you praise, princess?" He gave a short laugh, a dry, humorless sound that echoed in her ears. "Spoiled bitch. I should teach you a lesson after what you did. Teach you to shut your mouth and listen to your boyfriend instead of talking back to me."
That was the last threat before Jungkook lowered his head again. His tongue traced a slow, hot line through your most intimate spot, gathering the arousal that was flowing abundantly from you. Your legs trembled violently beneath his grip. It was impossible to ignore the jolt of pleasure mixed with the obscene, aggressive tone coming from the man who, outside of this moment, was usually your sweet boyfriend.
Out of pure instinct, your hands — which had been pounding desperately against the wall before — reached down toward his dark hair, seeking support or control. But before your fingers could even pull on the strands any harder, the sharp crack of a firm slap on your ass echoed through the tiny space. You jumped, the shock catching your breath, before the memory of his rules came back to weigh on your mind.
“No touching, bitch. What do I have to do to make you understand a simple command?” Jungkook looked up, his dark gaze fixed on your pitiful state. “Am I going to have to fuck you in the fitting room of every mall we walk into until you forget how to speak? Or better yet… would you prefer that I leave you tied up and blindfolded in my apartment, serving only as a storage unit whenever I want to play with the spoiled brat that you are?”
Tears finally overflowed, hot, streaking down your cheeks. You tried to form a word behind the makeshift gag, but the sound was lost, completely overwhelmed by the humiliation and the desperate lust he was drawing out of you.
The second laugh he let out right after echoed muffled off the walls of the space, a sound laced with scorn that made your stomach churn. Jungkook stared at you, his lips curled into a mocking pout, feigning a false sense of pity that only served to further ignite the electricity between you. "Aw… I think locking you in that room would be too good a reward for someone so petty, don't you think, kitten?"
His tone shifted, the mockery giving way to a darker urgency. He loosened his grip on her left leg for just a second — enough to make her body sway, thrown off balance. His nimble fingers moved up to your face, forcefully pulling aside the panties that were muffling your voice.
The fabric, now soaked not only by the liquid flowing from you but also by saliva, exposed your swollen, sensitive lips, tinged with a reddish hue from the pressure. The cold air from the fitting room hit your mouth all at once, but before you could voice any protest or catch your breath, Jungkook brought his face close, blocking out everything behind him.
“Last chance to apologize.” The warning came out low, almost like a dangerous whisper against your mouth, while his fingers began to circle dangerously close to your aching vagina once more.
You gasped for air, your chest rising and falling as you tried to clear your mind, which was still reeling from the orgasms he had repeatedly ruined and interrupted. Looking up at him, you swallowed what little pride you had left. Your eyes, red and wet from recent tears, sought his, trying to muster the most innocent and convincing expression you could force at that moment. Your voice came out weak, hoarse from being stifled for so long and trembling from held-back tears:
“P-please, Kook… I p-promise I’ll never d-do that again.” The words hung in the air, heavy and laden with desperation. The mention of his intimate nickname was a desperate attempt to disarm the man standing before her, to bring back the sweet boyfriend who had vanished beneath the dominant facade that now dictated the rules in there.
However, the effect was the complete opposite of what was expected. Jungkook let out a harsh sound of pure discontent before standing up hurriedly, wrenching you away from the comfort of his shoulders in a split second. With a sudden tug, his hand wrapped around your neck with enough force to make your back arch against his chest, forcing your eyes to focus, for the first time, on the reflection of the two of you.
In the worst-case scenario, you would describe your own appearance there as completely ruined. Your skin bore vivid marks: hickies in shades of purple and dark red covered your breasts, the curve of your waist, and the insides of your thighs. Your hair looked like a messy nest, and you were trembling like a leaf—vulnerable and entirely naked. It was a bizarre contrast to the impeccably dressed, controlled, and cold figure of the man who moved you with the ease of someone manipulating a puppet.
“Wrong answer, little girl.” His words came out venomously against the back of your neck, his eyes fixed on yours through the mirror. As he spoke, his free hand slid down to the waistband of his pants, unbuckling his belt with a metallic click. “I don’t want some empty promise that your stupid, childish brain will forget the second you come. I want a real apology. One that shows me that all this fucking punishment was worth it… all because of a damn purse.”
His pants finally fell, and you caught a glimpse of the obvious erection beneath his black boxers.
“All you had to do today was wait. Keep your end of the deal we made before putting your feet inside here…” He moved even closer, his presence occupying the entire space behind you, making it impossible to ignore the tension emanating from his body. Jungkook kept his gaze fixed on yours through the mirror. “Do you still remember which agreement I am talking about, or is your judgment already stupidly clouded enough to give me another wrong answer, my love?” Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows, waiting patiently for the correct answer to come out of your trembling lips.
"W-we weren't going to buy a-anything around here today b-because you w-were in a hurry t-to take care of your business at the dealership." You tried to cling to that stammered answer, feeling a momentary relief upon realizing that it validated the memory he was demanding.
The effect was immediate: the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He finally pulled his underwear down all the way, revealing the sight that made your mouth water and your lower abdomen contract in a painful spasm of desire: his cock, completely rigid, with a clear drop of seminal fluid glistening on the swollen, reddish tip.
"Good girl." His compliment fell like a twisted balm on your despair, drawing yet another involuntary moan from you. Jungkook rubbed the side of his hot member against your buttocks, mixing the sweat and lubrication of both. "You don't seem to have any trouble being a pretty little doll for me in here, do you? Too bad you insist on forgetting that precisely when I need it most."
He tightened his grip on your neck a little more, minimally restricting your airflow.
"Maybe, if you hadn't stomped your feet like a real spoiled slut out there, right when we were heading for the exit, I could have postponed your punishment until the comfort of home. But you wanted to test my patience in public, as always." Like a predator's final strike, Jungkook brings his lips close to your ear and bites the lobe hard enough to extract a painful gasp, before whispering against your shivering skin: "And I don't think it's fair that my girlfriend waits for a rough fuck that she craves so much."
Without warning, he forced his penis in one deep thrust, using his natural lubrication to tear open the inner space all at once.
The moan that escaped her lips was loud and vulgar. Anticipating the sound that would echo through the store, Jungkook abandoned his grip on her neck and acted quickly. With your body still bent and submissive before him, he silenced her mouth with his broad fingers adorned with steel rings, unceremoniously sinking them beneath her tongue. Her stomach churned in a jolt; too busy choking on the invasive back-and-forth motion and desperately trying to suck him in, you couldn’t make another sound. That forced silence was enough to throw off the intruders lurking in the hallway.
The muffled sound of flesh rhythmically slapping against flesh echoed. Sweat glued their bodies together, creating a slippery film between his chest and your back. The urgency of the impending danger made your vagina contract in violent spasms around his member, squeezing him with an almost painful force. Jungkook nearly lost control. To contain his own apex and not give away their position, he dug his teeth into your shoulder hard, tearing the skin in a deep bite while sinking his hips with a renewed aggressiveness.
“I’m going to make you drip with me for days. Make you wear your panties over my cum, because you’re mine. My bitch, my muse, whether to pamper you or to mark you.” He growled against your skin, his voice vibrating low as his fingers buried even deeper inside your mouth, defying your gag reflex. "Just a little longer, darling… I'm almost there. You're doing so well, so delicious to me."
He pressed his lips against the fresh bite mark adorning your shoulder, licking the bruised skin in a slow, painfully pleasurable caress, contrasting with the relentless, accelerating rhythm of his hips.
Without any warning, you felt his rhythm falter for a brief second, his breath catching in his chest before a wave of hot, thick, viscous fluid began to flood your insides in powerful spurts. The sharp, hissing gasp that escaped his lips, coupled with the rough, desperate grip his free hand placed on your waist, was the final trigger. The sensation of being filled shattered any remaining control you still had, pulling you into an overwhelming, simultaneous climax, where your bodies collided and trembled together until the very last drop.
The mess you’d made was scattered across the cramped floor of the dressing room. Your clothes lay strewn haphazardly, mixed in with the plastic hangers that had slipped off the rack in the heat of the moment, now sticky with semen as well. The thick, unmistakable scent of sex permeated the stifling air, mingling with his expensive cologne and the scent of new fabric from the clothes you never even got to try on. The vertical mirror, which had once so clearly reflected every obscene detail of your bodies, was now completely fogged up by condensation.
You could barely move, your legs still trembling against his body, your knees weak. He pressed his forehead against your back, his chest rising and falling heavily as a victorious smile spread across his lips.
The sudden sound of the knock on the door made your heart leap in your chest—a sharp jolt of panic. Before you could even begin to react, Jungkook acted first. With relentless boldness, he used his still-sweaty, sticky fingers to push back the excess semen that was beginning to escape from inside you, forcing the fluid back inside you without any shame, sealing your intimacy with a firm touch that made you hold your breath and stop the leak.
“Miss (Y/n)? You’ve been in there for over an hour… Is everything o—”
“Georgiana.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the air with an authoritative, velvety calm, carrying perfectly through the partition. “I’m just helping my woman try on the last few pieces, and we completely lost track of time. We’re on our way out now, don’t worry.”
He cut the saleswoman off with surgical precision, knowing exactly how much weight his confident tone would carry in dispelling any suspicion. On the other side, the silence lasted only a second.
“Oh, of course, Mr. Jeon! A thousand apologies, I just… got worried.”
The sound of the employee’s footsteps hurrying away down the hallway echoed like a tense sigh of relief. Jungkook let out one last low, dismissive laugh. He finally withdrew his fingers slowly from your extra-sensitive intimacy, making your whole body shudder at the sudden emptiness, before gripping your hips tightly, turning your body to face him, and pulling you into an kiss.
It was a hungry clash of lips. Your tongues entwined urgently and your teeth clashed in wild synchrony. When he finally parted your mouths by a fraction of a millimeter, it was only to let a thick trickle of saliva drip directly onto your outstretched tongue. Overwhelmed by his rhythm, you swallowed it greedily, savoring the obscenity of the moment.
“Good girl. If I’d known you’d obey everything so perfectly after just one lesson, I would’ve done this much sooner…” He murmured, his voice heavy with a dark satisfaction.
With his fingers now calmer, he brushed away the damp strands of hair that clung to your face. With a subtle nod of his head, he indicated that it was time to help him organize the mess of clothes scattered across the floor. As he well knew that there was always some pack of tissues in his backpack, he did not delay in grabbing them, using them to wipe the excesses from the skin of both of you with a disconcerting intimacy, firmly running the tissue between your thighs.
As soon as they finished tidying up the small space, he took the initiative to help you get dressed, sliding the garments over your skin. His hands guided the fabric in a practical and nimble way—a strictly necessary care, since your legs were still shaking so much that you could barely support your own body weight on the floor.
Looking at him, your chest still aching and your heart racing from the whirlwind of emotions, you whispered, almost without strength: “I love you, Kook.”
He clamped your chin between his thumb and index finger, applying firm pressure as he gazed deep into her dilated pupils. A sly, possessive smile played across his face. “I love you too, kitten.”
However, when he finished zipping up the last zipper and you finally headed toward the exit curtain, Jungkook grabbed her wrist tightly. He pulled her back playfully yet abruptly, pressing his chest against your back one last time and leaning in to whisper right into her ear, letting his warm breath send shivers down her entire neck:
"I told you not to cum, brat… Or did you really think I wouldn't notice your tightness around my cock? But don't worry", he gave a light bite on your earlobe, a silent, painful warning that made your lower abdomen pulse again. "At home we will have plenty of time for round two. Only, this time, I'm going to make you beg for me to stop."
— ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.
Hey everyone, how's it going? I’m so sorry for taking this long to post, I really didn't know what to write after my first post, so I hope you like the content. It's my first time writing something like this😓. Just so you know, I don't only write for the BTS fandom or K-POP specifically. You can make requests for series, movies, games, books, and everything else, as long as I'm familiar with them and support the content you suggest. That's it, lots of love🌷
: : Warnings: Unrequited feelings (for now) sexual tension, Jungkook being an absolute slut, excessive lip-ring biting/licking, possessive behavior, alcohol & partying, cursing, explicit sexual content/smut (specifics tagged per part)
𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼/𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝔁
𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 1
𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 9.1k
It's Friday night. You stand with your spine pressed against the concrete wall of a university basement, a paper gift bag dangling from your fingers as you stare ahead through the crowd in the center of the big room. You’re not staring at just anyone though. Your eyes are locked onto one specific, highly infuriating person:
Jeon Jungkook
Read as: the captain of the college basketball team, the guy driving the campus athletic department to championships, and the perpetual winner at literally everything he touches. He’s popular with literally everyone; loved by the faculty, worshipped by his peers, guys want to be him, and half the female students is actively competing for a spot in his bed. Because off the court, he’s the campus fuckboy by night, and to put it bluntly without censoring the trashy reality of this place, his dick is practically a legend on campus at this point.
And, worst of all? He’s your best friend.
He’s been your best friend ever since the tragic Halloween party in elementary school where he arrived wearing a deeply embarrassing carrot costume, got completely roasted by the other kids, and sat crying under the table. You took pity on the sad little vegetable, sacrificed your own social standing to go talk to him, and somehow the two of you just stayed together ever since.
Which makes standing in this sweaty basement, watching girls throw themselves at him while you clutch his birthday gift like a lifeline, about a thousand times more humiliating.
Just look at him. Look at the absolute absurdity of this human being.
He’s leaning casually against a table that has been transformed into a makeshift altar in his honor. It’s an appalling masterpiece his teammates built purely for fun. His picture is sitting there in a tacky frame, surrounded by polaroids of his biceps, lit candles, and dead flowers shoved recklessly into empty vodka bottles. It looks like a shrine dedicated to a guy who died of alcoholism, which is honestly pretty likely considering he gets trashed like every second day.
You bite your lip, your eyes helplessly tracing his profile as he stands angled away from you. He holds a green glass bottle of Heineken loosely by the neck, while his other hand is shoved deep into the pocket of baggy pants. A black tee hangs off his shoulders.
One girl (a blonde cheerleader you’ve seen with him before, but never bothered to get to know and don’t particularly want to) rests her palm against his forearm, leaning in so close her chest is practically pressing into his ribs. Her lashes flutter while she whispers something directly into his ear over the heavy bass booming through the speakers.
Jungkook just tilts his head back, taking a long swig from his beer, before offering her a lazy smirk, his tongue flicking out to lick the silver ring at his bottom lip. And every single time he smiles like that, your heart does a sickening squeeze inside your chest, while the relentless bass from the speakers pulses directly in your temples.
God, you hate parties. You hate loud places. You hate the smell of beer, and you hate people in general.
Except for him. Which is the entire, catastrophic problem.
Except a good friend wouldn’t have spent the last four weeks acting like a ghost. A good friend wouldn’t have left him on read for a week, dodging his phone calls, and sprinting behind the library book stacks every time you caught sight of his oversized silhouette cutting across the campus quad.
You shouldn’t even be here. In a completely rational world, you would be back in your dorm room, drafting an essay that no one will ever read. But it’s Jungkook’s twenty-first birthday. And as much of an absolute coward as you’ve been lately, you’re still trying to be a good friend.
That was the exact millisecond you realized two terrifying, unavoidable truths:
A good friend certainly wouldn’t have spent the last thirty days completely spiraling because of a stupid, mindless party game... It was just a dare. Jungkook had to kiss whoever was sitting on his left, and unfortunately, that was you. You’d had a nagging suspicion before that you might actually like him, but that kiss cemented it all. It was good. Too good. That was the whole problem: your stomach erupted with butterflies, your pulse lost its mind, and you felt every single thing you weren’t supposed to feel for him.
1. You are violently, desperately, hopelessly in love with your best friend.
2. You are completely fucked.
Because look at him, and then look at you. You are nothing like the girls he hooks up with. Girls with pretty smiles, flat stomachs, and perfectly styled hair. You can’t compete with that. You don’t even want to try to compete with that. If he ever found out you felt this way, it wouldn’t be some romantic movie ending. It would just be agonizingly awkward. He’d probably try to let you down easy, and then twelve solid years of unshakeable friendship would dissolve into a puddle of radioactive cringe.
So yeah. You avoided him for a solid month. You weren’t ready to face him. You’re still not. But really, how can anyone ever be ready to face Jeon Jungkook when he looks like that?
You briefly contemplate summoning whatever microscopic shred of courage you have left, thinking that maybe–just maybe–you should be the bigger person and approach him first. Get it over with. Except you don’t even get the chance to move.
Right on you.
One of his basketball teammates walks up to him, loudly slurring something into his ear.
Jungkook nods absentmindedly, but his dark eyes begin casually scanning the packed room. His gaze sweeps past the beer pong table, past the crowd by the speakers, and then freezes.
He cuts the guy off mid-sentence without even pretending to offer a polite excuse, mutters something brief to his group, and detaches himself entirely. He doesn’t glance back once.
Panicking completely, you snap your head to the left, staring with intense, fake focus at a pathetic bundle of ‘21’ foil balloons taped to a pipe.
“Hi, stranger,” a voice booms directly over the bass.
Even though you literally watched him march across the room, your entire body jolts. You flinch as a cold glass edge pokes you lightly right in the stomach, realising it's just Jungkook, nudging you with the neck of his Heineken bottle.
“Thought you were gonna ditch me today, too.”
Guilt stabs through the knot in your throat. You look up at him, your mouth running dry at how close he actually is. “I wouldn’t ditch you on your birthday,” you mumble, trying to sound normal and failing miserably.
“Oh, really?” Jungkook tilts his head, as his smile turns mockingly sweet. “Could’ve fooled me. Considering you’ve been treating me like trash for four weeks straight.”
You instantly drop your gaze to the ground, uncomfortably shifting your weight. He’s right, and you know it. You suck. You’re a terrible best friend.
When you don’t respond, opting instead to chew the absolute hell out of the inside of your cheek, Jungkook takes a step forward, resting his palm flat against the wall right next to your head. His shoulders completely block out the rest of the basement, trapping you in a inescapable shadow. He slowly lowers his head into your space.
“Look at me,” he commands. “What is actually going on with you?”
“Nothing,” you squeak out, staring rigidly at his collarbone instead of his eyes. “I was just… busy.”
“Busy,” Jungkook repeats, the word rolling off his tongue with skepticism. “You were too busy to answer my texts? Too busy grab a lunch with me? You sprinted out of the library last Tuesday the second I walked in the door.”
“I didn’t,” you mumble, but the music swallows your words whole.
“You did.”
“I was just… jogging”
He tilts his head, his eyes trailing slowly over your flushed cheeks. “You’re a terrible liar Y/N.” His voice drops.” Tell me what’s actually up, or we’re gonna stand against this wall all night.”
You swallow hard, your hand cramping around the gifts handle. “I’m not lying,”
“So you just happened to develop a sudden, life-altering allergy to my existence?”
“Maybe I just have other friends, Jungkook,” you snap defensively, “Believe it or not, my world doesn’t revolve around waiting for you to finish basketball practice.”
Jungkook snorts, rolling his eyes at your lie. “We can play dumb if you want–But we both know you’re full of shit.”
“Can we just end this conversation?” you plea, completely out of excuses.
You feel dizzy, and the scent of his cologne doesn’t make it any less overwhelming. You plant your hand against the center of his chest and push, hoping to get at least some of your personal space back. But Jungkook doesn’t budge an inch. Instead, he lowers his gaze to where your palm is pressed against his shirt, then flickers his eyes back up to yours, giving you a look that says: we are nowhere near done with this conversation.
You let out a defeated sigh, pulling your hand back. “Okay… I’m sorry,” you shift uncomfortably against the cold wall. “I’m sorry for not talking much lately. It’s just…”
You trail off, stopping for a moment as your brain scrambles to assemble a half-decent cover story. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a couple of girls by alcohol stand watching the two of you with envious glares. A wave of discomfort washes over you, but you quickly drag your focus back to your best friends face.
“My mind has just been all over the place lately,” you continue, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “I just needed some time alone.”
"Why? Is your period coming up soon or something?” he asks, brows furrowing slightly.
You mentally roll your eyes so hard they practically disappear into the back of your skull. Of course. Typical guy logic—if a girl has an emotional crisis or a sudden change in mood, it must obviously be tied to her monthly cycle.
Anything to get him off your back.
“No…” you start to say, but catch yourself, realising that blaming hormones is the fastest exit ticket out of this suffocating interrogation.
“Actually… yeah. Maybe. It’s probably that.”
“Ah,” he hums, nodding like he just cracked a complex equation.
“Anyway,” You look down at the black paper gift bag resting in your hands, then you push it against his stomach. “Happy birthday, Jungkook.”
Jungkook looks down at it, one eyebrow arching up toward his messy fringe. “For me?”
“No, I brought a gift to a basement party to flex my paper-bag collection,” you deadpan, and roll your eyes at his amused face. “Yes, for you. Who else?”
“I don’t know,” he drawls, a faint, infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. “Maybe for your mysterious new friends.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, though a involuntary smile tugs at your lips despite your best efforts. “Happy birthday, really. Love… you.”
The words hang in the air between you, making a sudden spike of anxiety shoot straight through your chest. Saying ‘I love you’ has been a completely normal, brainless habit for the two of you over twelve years of friendship, but saying it now, it just feels wrong. It’s nothing casual about it anymore.
Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice the glitch in your system. He finally lifts his palm off the wall next to your head, cutting off the suffocating proximity as he reaches out to take the bag.
Before he can grab it, you snatch it back toward your waist. “Open it later tho.”
Jungkook stops, his eyes flickering with instant amusement as he looks at you. “Why?” he teases, leaning back down into your space with that grin. “What’s in there? You wrote me a love letter?”
“You wish,” you shoot back, forcing an incredulous laugh. “In your dreams. Never.”
“Pity,” He fakes a disappointed tone. “Would’ve loved to read how much you adore me. Might’ve even framed it.”
You just look at him, your eyes silently pleading with him to just stop. Sensing that you’re genuinely not in the mood to spar, Jungkook’s grin softens.
“Alright, alright,” He says, then straightens his left arm, presenting his wrist to you. “Hang it here then.”
You let out a quiet breath and loop the handles of the paper bag over his wrist. Jungkook watches your hands closely, his eyes tracking every movement of your fingers. Before you can step back to put some safe distance between your bodies, he nonchalantly hands you the green Heineken bottle he’d been holding in his other hand.
You take the cold glass automatically, completely confused. “What—”
With his other hand now totally free, Jungkook instantly reaches out and hooks two fingers into the front collar of your top, tugging you forward. He steps right into you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a tight hug.
“Glad you finally came out of your den.” He says directly against the top of your head.
Your heart does a violent flip inside your chest, but before you can process what’s happening, his arm settles over the back of your neck. He grips you in a uncomfortable, unbreakable headlock, turning your body around and forcing you to walk right alongside him.
“Now,” he drawls, with a sudden spark of energy as he steers you straight toward the chaotic center of the basement. “Let’s go have some fun.”
Panic instantly flares through you. “No—Jungkook, wait! No!” you choke out, desperately trying to plant your feet against the slick, alcohol-covered concrete.
In the chaos, a tall guy blindly stumbles backward, slamming hard into your arm. The momentum knocks the green Heineken bottle right out of your grip, sending it onto the floor.
He’s dragging you right into the worst part of the room. The area directly in front of the colossal speakers, surrounded by a sea of sweaty, heavily intoxicated students thrashing around in mindless rhythm. A few people glance over,
recognizing the college’s prized basketball captain hauling his usual nerd sidekick into the fray, but most are far too wasted to care.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going,” Jungkook snaps instantly.
The guy spins around ready to argue, but the second he locks eyes with Jeon Jungkook, his face pales. “Shit–Sorry, man,” he stammers, backing away intimidated.
Jungkook doesn’t even bother answering him. He just gives him one last glare before kicking the bottle toward the wall.
“Hey! Don’t litter!” you yell over the noise.
You duck your head, desperately trying to wriggle out from under his arm, but he only tightens his hold, locking you flush against his side.
“Just one dance, nerd!” he shouts down into your ear. “Live a little!”
“I don’t want to live.” You whine, digging your sneakers in again. “Let me go!”
“Not a chance,” he chuckles. He casually steers you past a group of guys who move instantly move out of his way.“ You dodged my texts for a month. You owe me.”
“You can’t do this to me!”
“I’m the birthday boy. I can do whatever the hell I want!”
God, he knows you hate dancing. He knows it better than anyone in the world. You are the worst at it: awkward, stiff, and utterly devoid of any rhythm. It is pure embarrassment for you, especially in front of a crowd of people who already view you as the quiet outcast clinging to the most popular guy in this shithole.
You didn’t sign up for this. You just wanted to come here, hand him your gift, wish him a happy birthday, and retreat back to the safety of your dorm room to study. But of course, Jeon Jungkook never makes anything easy for you.
Just when you think your spine is going to snap from the tension, Jungkook finally loosens his grip on your neck. You let out a breath, happy that you’re finally free, but before you can take a single step, he smoothly spins you around to face him. His hands clap down firmly onto both of your shoulders, trapping you in place as he looks down into your stressed face.
“One dance,” he promises. “One dance, and I’ll let you go free. Deal?”
You stare up at him, then flicker your eyes nervously around the crowded dance floor. You mentally weigh your options: fight him, or suffer through three minutes of awkward swaying and earn your freedom.
“What am I even supposed to do?” you ask nervously. “Will I have to do… that?” You point at a girl nearby who is aggressively twerking against her boyfriend.
Jungkook glances over at the girl, his eyes trailing over the drunk, grinding couple. “Fuck no,” he stares at them with a half-bored scowl. “I don’t want you dancing like that here.”
He drags his gaze back to your face and takes your hand, pulling you into the tiny space between you. You’re about to ask what the hell he’s doing when he lifts your joined hands overhead and spins you around. You turn beneath his arm, your hair fanning out behind you. When you come back around to face him, your face is twisted into a scowl of zero enthusiasm.
“Bro, you look like you’re about to be executed,” he wheezes, taking a deliberate step back to give you room. “C’mon, Y/N. At least pretend you’re having fun on my birthday.”
“This is stupid,” you cross your arms defensively over your chest. “There’s not even a beat to follow.”
“Sway. Just move your feet.” He tilts his head, gesturing toward you with an encouraging jerk of his chin. “Go on.”
Under the weight of his gaze, you force your feet to shift. You just want this to be over so you begin swaying awkwardly from side to side, your shoulders stiff as fuck, looking like a nervous middle-schooler at her first school disco, but– hey you are trying, right?
“Good, good,” Jungkook gives you a crooked smirk tugging at his lip ring as he watches your terrible attempt. “See? You’re a natural.”
“I hate you,” you deadpan.
“No, you don’t.”
“Relax,” he murmurs, and you almost miss his words over the thumping music.
Suddenly, Jungkook closes the space between you again. He reaches out with both hands, placing his palms firmly against your hips.
Your entire body freezes instantly. The air catches in your lungs, and for a second, you feel like you might actually die when his fingers press firmly through the fabric of your clothes.
Without breaking eye contact, he gently guides your body, applying pressure to force your hips into a smooth sway that actually matches the underlying beat. The touch is tormentingly electric. Every finger pressing into your skin sends a wave of heat straight up your spine.
For a second, your hands hover awkwardly in mid-air between your chests. You have no idea what to do with them, so your fingers instinctively dart out and squeeze his forearm, gripping the hard muscle beneath his sleeve.
“Put ‘em here,” he shouts, taking your wrists and lifting your hands up, until they’re resting flat against the skin at the back of his neck.
You hesitate for a fraction of a second, your heart pounding against your ribs. But you swallow hard and let your fingers wrap loosely behind his head. You have nothing left to lose anyway. Just your entire sanity.
Jungkook’s hands tighten on your waist, and suddenly, you’re actually dancing. The awkwardness begins to melt away under the rythym he’s forcing onto you. Jungkook notices the shift instantly. A slow, triumphant smile spreads across his face, as the lights shift from crimson to electric blue.
Without warning, he grips your waist tighter and dips you backward, supporting your full weight with zero effort. You let out an involuntary, startled laugh, clinging to his neck for dear life before he smoothly pulls you right back up against his chest.
“See?” His thumbs gently stroke the crest of your ribs through your shirt, coaxing your stiff frame to loosen up completely. “You didn’t die, did you?”
You force a dramatic roll of your eyes, trying to hide the way your cheeks are burning. “Whatever, Jeon. You’re still annoying.”
“I’m the best, you mean,” he winks, eyes sparkling as he moves with you. “You didn’t seem to hate parties this much at Namjoon’s place.”
Your smile instantly vanishes at his words. The night at Namjoon’s villa. The night of the spin-the-bottle game, the whiskey, and the kiss that completely ruined your entire life.
“That was different,” you say quickly, your voice tight as you scramble to change the subject. “You made me drink. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Jungkook tilts his head, a playful curve tugging at his lips. “Should I pour you a glass tonight then? Get you back into that mindset?”
“No, thanks,” you snap back a little too fast, your hands tightening defensively against the nape of his neck. “I’m good staying completely sober tonight.”
“Lame,” he teases softly. “You were way more fun when you weren’t constantly acting like a paranoid grandma.”
Before you can formulate a bitter comeback, jungkook spins you around again. His hands stay glued to your waist, this time pulling your back flush against his chest. You blink in pure confusion, your breath catching in your throat as he continues to guide your hips from behind, seamlessly matching the rhythm.
Fuck your life. He’s such a good dancer, you think bitterly to yourself, feeling the hypnotic grind of his body against yours. And a good kisser, too—
You instantly slap yourself mentally, horrified at where your brain just wandered. You have to stop thinking about his stupid mouth.
Jungkook leans his head down, his lips hovering mere millimeters from the shell of your ear. “You disappeared right after that, by the way,” he pauses. “Why?”
Your heart completely stops. You try to play dumb, keeping your eyes glued ahead. “I did?”
“Yeah. Right after the game,” he insists, his chest rising and falling against your back. “I looked everywhere for you. I was searching the whole house until Dani told me you had already left to the dorms.”
Dani–your roommate and the only person who had witnessed you sprinting out of Namjoon’s sprawling villa that night in a state of extreme panic and spiraling into a full-blown existential crisis after Jungkook’s lips touched yours. You had practically collided with her on the driveway, tears of pure embarrassment blurring your vision, mumbling some incoherent lie about feeling sick before fleeing back to campus.
“I… I just wasn’t feeling good,”
“You looked fine two minutes before that,” Jungkook murmurs, his warm breath fanning across the sensitive skin of your neck as he pulls you just a fraction tighter against him. “So what actually happened, Y/N?”
The unbearable heat of his body, his suffocating proximity, and the relentless interrogation finally blow your fuse. You react like you’ve been burned, pulling away and twisting violently in his grip, taking two fast steps to the side. His hands slide off your hips, dropping into the air as the sudden separation breaks the rhythm entirely.
Jungkook blinks in confusion. “What the hell?” he asks, his voice laced with sudden frustration as he takes a step toward you. “What is your problem now?”
“Nothing!” You blurt out. A few students nearby turn their heads, their drunken gazes drifting in your direction. “I told you, I was feeling sick! Why are you being so insanely insistent about this?!”
“Because you’ve been acting like a completely different person for a whole month!” Jungkook groans back, his shoulders tensing up as he gestures between the two of you. He looks genuinely baffled, hurt even, by the sudden wall you’ve thrown up. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re being so damn sensitive all of a sudden! We used to talk about everything, and now I can barely get a sentence out of you!”
“I’m not being sensitive!” you shout.
You can’t do this. You can’t stand here, surrounded by sweaty strangers, arguing with the guy you’re pathetically in love with while he looks at you like you’re a crazy person.
“You know what? Forget it,” you choke out, taking another step backward toward the crowd. “I’m going. Happy birthday, Jungkook.”
“Going where?!” he barks, his sharp jaw clenching tightly as he takes an instinctual step after you, but the sea of bodies surges between you two, cutting off his path.
“To bed!” you yell back over your shoulder, not daring to look him in the eye again.
“Yeah, fucking go then!” his voice booms out, sharp, and raw with frustration. “Go lock yourself in your room and ignore me for another fucking month!”
“Maybe I will!”
You turn on your heel and shove through the wall of drunk, dancing college students, not caring whose shoulders you bump into. Tears instantly prick at the corners of your eyes, blurring the lights into smeared streaks of color. You bite down hard on the inside of your lip to keep them from spilling over.
Jesus, you’re so stupid.
You ran away again. Like a absolute, pathetic coward. On his birthday. He had spent the night dragging you out of your shell, trying so hard to pull his best friend back, and you just threw a tantrum and sprinted for the exit because you couldn’t handle his hands on your hips.
You push through the metal fire door at the edge of the basement, bursting out of the suffocating chaos, and head straight up the concrete stairs leading into the college entryway corridor. The sudden silence here makes you feel uneasy, leaving a high-pitched ring echoing in your ears. The only remaining sound is the muffled thud of the party pulsing beneath the floorboards.
You stop.
Every single instinct in your body is screaming at you to just keep walking; go back to your dorm room, bury your face in a pillow, scream, cry, and then pass out asleep. It’s the safe option. It’s the smart option.
But your feet refuse to move toward the exit.
You hesitate, completely torn between the safety of your cowardice and the overwhelming, heartbreaking guilt of leaving Jeon Jungkook angry on his birthday.
You stand there frozen for what feels like ten full minutes, completely zoned out. You wipe away the fresh tears blurring your vision with the back of your sleeve, trying desperately to pull yourself together.
Driven by sheer anxiety, you start pacing back and forth down the corridor like a lunatic. The dull glow of the moon shining through the big window illuminate the trophy cases lining the walls. You glance sideways as you walk, your eyes catching the glint of row upon row of gold cups, medals, and framed photographs preserved behind glass.
And in almost every single display, there he is.
Front-page newspaper clippings framed in dark wood show Jeon Jungkook in his element, captured mid-stride on the basketball court, his jaw set in fierce determination, headline after headline praising the university's prized star player. He looks untouchable, larger than life, a campus legend enshrined behind glass while you stand out here in the hallway, spiraling over a stupid party game.
Finally you take a deep breath, and turn on your heel, fully intending to push through that heavy door and fix the mess you just made. But before your hand can even reach the push-bar, the door swings open with a heavy bang.
You stop in your tracks like a terrified deer caught in headlights. You quickly step back against the wall, hoping to blend into the shadows, but it’s far too late. First, you hear laughter, then a group of guys comes marching out the door.
“Oh—Y/N! Wassup?.”
You wince inwardly, plastering on a stiff smile as you recognize Taehyung, one of Jungkook’s closer friends from the basketball team. He’s walking at the front of the pack, looking thoroughly buzzed with a half-crooked grin on his face.
“Hey, Taehyung,” you say, offering a quick wave.
Taehyung slows his pace as he passes you in the narrow hallway, gesturing loosely toward the exit doors. “We’re just heading out back to roll a blunt and grab some fresh air. You wanna come?”
“Oh. No, I’m good, thanks,” you reply instantly, your voice higher than usual. “I’ll pass.”
Taehyung tilts his head, his hazy eyes scanning your tense posture. “You sure? You look like you need to relax a little,”
“No need. Thanks, though.”
You’ve always felt a strange discomfort whenever Jungkook’s friends interact with you. You’re strictly the quiet girl who exists in Jungkook’s shadow, completely out of place in their circle of popular athletes. But because you’re Jungkook’s best friend, they always treat you with a weird kind of politeness. They know better than to disrespect you or push you too far, simply because Jungkook would probably tear them apart if they did. But still, being acknowledged by them only highlights how much you don’t belong here, and you hate every second of it.
Your heart drops violently into your stomach when you notice Jungkook among the group, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants and the gift from you still hanging from his wrist. He glances up, his hooded eyes instantly locking onto yours.
For a second, you think he’s just going to walk right past you without saying a word, letting the bitter fight downstairs linger between you. But as he brushes past your shoulder, his gaze trails over your face with a mocking edge.
“Thought you went to bed.” He throws a bitter remark over his shoulder.
The words bite, but the guilt riding your chest gives you a sudden spike of desperate courage.
“I changed my mind,” you say quickly.
Jungkook stops in his tracks. The rest of the guys keep walking toward the double glass doors, but Jungkook spins slowely around to face you, crossing his arms over his chest.
He tilts his head with skepticism. “You did?”
“Yes.” You look up at him, your eyes silently pleading, dropping every last shred of your pride. “Can we talk? Please?”
“Didn’t we just do that down there?” he hums, gesturing lazily toward the basement. “Pretty sure you weren't exactly talkative right before you screamed in my face.”
“This time for real. Please. Just… somewhere else."
You need to fix this. You need to fix this right now. The weird, depressing wall that has built up between the two of you over the last thirty days is unbearable. You just want things back to the way they were before that stupid spin-the-bottle game, before your traitorous heart ruined everything. You need your best friend back.
Before Jungkook can respond, one of the guys at the back doors shoves the glass open, letting in a gust of night air. “Yo, JK! You coming or what? “he shouts, waving his arm. “Let’s move!”
“Hold on, man,” Jungkook calls back over his shoulder.
“Hurry it up, The blunt’s not gonna smoke itself, bro!” Jungkook’s friend chuckles, holding the heavy door open for the rest of the group as they trickle out into the night.
Jungkook turns his attention back to you, standing motionless in the dim hallway. He looks down at you quietly, clearly weighing his options in his head, biting down on his silver lip ring as he ponders your request.
The mindless habit drives a stake straight through your soul. For a millisecond, your brain totally short-circuits. Your eyes drop down, helplessly lingering on the plush curve of his bottom lip, the metallic glint of the ring, and the memory of how soft his mouth felt against yours thirty days ago. Panic flares in your veins, and you violently snap your gaze back up to his eyes, praying he didn’t catch you staring.
Jungkook lets out a low breath, releasing his lip. “Okay.”
You blink, your brain still completely scrambled from your momentary lapse in sanity. “Okay… what?”
“Okay, come with us out back,” he says, gesturing toward the doors with a flick of his chin. “I’ll hit the blunt, we’ll get some fresh air, and then we’ll talk after. Deal?”
“I don’t know, Jungkook…” you whine softly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you stare nervously at the glass doors.
He sighs. “What now?”
“I really don’t want to stand out there while you guys smoke.”
Jungkook scoffs, adjusting the gift bag still dangling from his wrist. “It’s not like I’m asking you to smoke.”
“I know…” you say frustrated. “I know that, but I really don’t want to be an active participant in you destroying your health. You’re literally on an athletic scholarship, Jungkook. You have a game next Friday! Do you have any idea what THC and carbon monoxide do to your oxygen intake? It’s terrible for your cardiovascular system, and—”
Jungkook rolls his head back, letting out a dramatic sigh that echoes off the empty hallway walls. “Ah, Jesus Christ, stop being such a fucking buzzkill for five minutes.”
“I’m just looking out for you! Someone has to keep you from ruining your own life!”
“Whatever,” he ignores you, totally unbothered by your lecture.
He starts walking backward toward the exit, his eyes still fixed entirely on you.
“Come on,” he drawls, when he notices you aren’t immediately following him. “I’m not asking again.”
You let out a pathetic whine of defeat, dragging your feet as you finally force yourself to walk after him. Seeing you cave, Jungkook’s jaw loosens up, a small, triumphant smile tugs at his mouth, making your heart do an annoying, fluttery flip inside your chest.
He spins around on his heel, pushing open the glass door. As the cold night air rushes inside again, you realize the rest of his basketball friends have already vanished into the shadows of the campus quad. Jungkook catches the edge of the door, holding it wide open for you.
“Ladies first,” he says, leaning his shoulder against the frame.
“Thanks,” you mumble, as you brush past him.
The sudden drop in temperature hits you like a elephant from the sky, making you shiver inside your thin top. Behind you, the door slams shut, and Jungkook steps out, letting out a ragged hiss as the freezing wind cuts right through his t-shirt.
You head straight toward the basketball courts, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself to trap whatever amount of body heat you have left. The university is cut-budgeting power again. Only a single overhead reflector lamp is buzzing tonight, casting a weak glow over the ground and leaving most of the court in the dark.
“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters beside you as his shoulders hunch against the cold. “I’m freezing my fucking balls off out here. Feels like they’re about to snap off and roll away.”
You glance sideways at him. “Tragic. We definitely wouldn’t want that to happen.”
“We?” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully, while a smirk spreads across his face.
“We, as in the collective population of female college attendees,” you shoot back smoothly. “I’m sure the campus would go into an official three-day period of mourning if your precious manhood met a tragic frostbite incident.”
Jungkook bursts out laughing, tossing his head back with zero shame. “Hey, mock all you want, but those balls are worshipped on this campus, nerd. They deserve respect.”
“I am not having a conversation about your genitalia at midnight, Jungkook,” you groan, digging your chin into the collar of your shirt.
“Whose balls are being worshipped?!” a voice suddenly shouts from the dark.
You both stop near the base of the bleachers and look up. Leaning over the top metal railing is Taehyung. He’s dangling a lit blunt between two fingers, his face twisted into a squinting, profoundly confused expression as he peers down at the two of you standing in the shadows.
“Mind your business.” Jungkook shouts back. “And save me a fucking hit!”
Taehyung lets out a loud laugh, taking another slow drag that lights up his face. “Better hurry your ass up then! Half the damn thing’s gone already. You two were walking up the path like a pair of delicate fucking princesses!”
Jungkook just snorts, as he leads the way up the open metal stairs, his long legs taking them two at a time. The hollow clang of his sneakers echoes through the night as you trek up behind him.
“Woah, hold up,” Jungkook mutters instantly, looking back.
A sudden knot of severe discomfort tightens in your gut as you glance around the upper deck. You realize you are the only girl up here.
Lost in your own head, the toe of your sneaker catches unexpectedly against the edge of a metal riser.
Before you can tumble down the stairs, his hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you upright. The heat of his skin burns right through your shivering frame.
“Light the damn stairs so she can see!” He barks a command toward the top row.
Within a fraction of a second, three separate phone flashlights snap on at once. The guys blindly point the white beams straight down the stairwell, aiming them directly into your face. The sudden, blinding illumination hits your pupils, totally washing out the darkness, making you feel like you’re walking straight through the pearly gates of heaven to meet God Himself. You squint aggressively, holding a hand up to shield your face as you scramble up the last three steps.
“Off the face, idiots! Turn ‘em down!” Jungkook snaps, waving his hand until the guys quickly redirect the blinding beams downward, propping their phones up on the cold metal seats to illuminate the bleachers without blinding anyone.
You quickly take a seat in the row right behind them, pulling your knees up to your chest curling into a small, hopefully invisible ball. Jungkook turns his head, his eyes trailing over you as you settle in. Sensing you want a little space while you wait out his smoke break, he doesn’t push it. He steps over the bench in front of you and takes a seat on the top railing, perching himself right in the middle of his group, but still positioned so he’s angled half-toward the guys and half-facing you.
From where you sit, the repositioned phone flashlights cast a light around his silhouette. He looks disrespectfully handsome up here. The dark wind tousles his messy fringe, and his silver lip ring glints softly in the light.
Taehyung hands him the lit blunt. Jungkook takes it between fingers, bringing it to his mouth and taking a slow, deep drag. His jaw clenching as he holds the smoke for a brief second before exhaling a cloud into the air.
He lets out a low, satisfied hum, his eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second. Watching the effortless, sinfully attractive way he inhales, a traitorous thought crosses your mind: There is no way inhaling literal smoke can possibly feel or look that good.
“Damn, Kooks,” one of the guys chuckles, leaning back against the plastic chair. “That hit hard, huh?”
“Fuck yeah,” Jungkook rasps, as he passes the blunt along. “Shit’s good tonight.”
“Told ya” Taehyung boasts, slurring his words with a proud grin. “Got it straight from a good source.”
“Which is?” Jungkook asks, eyes casually tracking the trail of gray smoke drifting into the freezing night air.
“Hoseok,” one of the boys (the one with the messy curly hair) chuckles, shaking his head. “Guy’s practically a professional gardener. I swear to God, he has a legit greenhouse set-up in his basement.
“He’s gonna end up locked away ten to fifteen by the end of the semester,” another teammate snorts from the corner, taking a quick drag before passing it off.
The whole group breaks out into a chorus of low laughter that echoes loudly across the dark, empty bleachers.
You let out a quiet sigh, entirely unamused by the turn of conversation. Feeling thoroughly out of place, you rest your chin on your kneecaps and idly play with your shoe laces. You just want this ritual to end so you can have your talk with Jungkook and go to your room.
As the guys carry on arguing over which dealer in the city has the best strain, you feel a sudden shift in front of you. Taehyung pivots in his seat on the row directly ahead, slumping back and throwing one arm over the back of his chair. He turns his head, his sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes fixing directly onto you.
You blink, looking up from your shoes in mild surprise.
“Hey,” Taehyung hums softly. “Just realised, l haven’t seen you around much lately. Where’ve you been hiding Y/N?”
You shift uncomfortably under his direct gaze, your fingers tightening around your knees. “Oh… nowhere really. I was just… pretty busy with classes.”
Taehyung squints at your face in the light of the propped-up phone flashlights, studying your features like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “You look different.”
“I do?”
Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly. “Wait… Yo. Did you take off your braces?”
Your cheeks instantly flare hot with embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. A couple of weeks ago.”
“Shut up, really?” Taehyung grins, leaning a fraction closer with genuine curiosity. “Let me see! Smile for a second.”
“Taehyung, no,” you mutter, ducking your head slightly to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Come on, don’t be shy,” he encourages. “Just a quick one. Let me see.”
Realizing he isn't going to drop it until you comply, you force a quick, awkward little smile just to get him off your back.
"Nice!" Taehyung nods approvingly, letting out a low whistle. "Honestly, the braces were cute, but your smile looks crazy good now. Look at you glowing up."
A fresh wave of heat surges straight to your face. "Uh... thanks," you mumble, unaccustomed to receiving random compliments from guys like him.
You flicker your gaze past Taehyung’s shoulder and freeze. Jungkook is no longer listening to whatever conversation his teammates are having. He’s sitting perfectly still on his high perch, his eyes locked onto you and Taehyung with a unreadable expression.
You shift nervously in your seat under his stare, but Taehyung, completely oblivious to his captain's mood shift, keeps talking.
"Didn't you wear glasses too?" Taehyung says, tilting his head as he inspects your face further.
"I only wear them for reading," you say quickly, feeling self-conscious. "I don't need them all the time."
"Too bad. I like them," Taehyung hums. "They really bring out your eyes."
A startled little laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. The compliment catching you completely off guard. "No they don't"
"They really do–I swear!"
Before you can formulate a reply, a sudden, loud bang cuts the air, when Jungkook hand clasps down hard onto the plastic chair Taehyung is leaning on. The entire group instantly falls dead silent, cutting off their conversation to look up at their captain.
"Alright, blunt's done," Jungkook barks out, flicking the tiny remnant of ash off into the wind. "Clear out, all of you. Y/N and I have shit to talk about."
Taehyung blinks, raising his hands in a slow, easy gesture of surrender. "Alright, damn, birthday boy. No need to snap."
"Move it," Jungkook repeats firmly.
Taehyung gives you one last easygoing smile, throwing a casual wave over his shoulder as he tags along with the guys, who quickly scramble to grab their phones and head out. “See you around, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.”
“Bye, Tae.” You offer him a polite nod.
Jungkook stays perched at the top of the seat, his eyes silently tracking the group as they clamber down the metal steps. Right as they hit the ground below, Jungkook turns around to face you.
"What?"You look up at him nervously.
"I'm all ears," he says simply.
You bite your lip anxiously. Shit. You hadn't actually planned what to say. Asking to talk was pure impulse, and now you're completely stranded with no script.
Jungkook watches the color drain from your face. He moves up, and sits down right next to you on the metal row, his legs spread wide, slumping his back against the railing. Without warning, he leans sideways and bumps his shoulder firmly against yours in a small gesture meant to break your tension.
"C'mon," he hums, his tone softening into that familiar rhythm reserved only for you. "Speak up, nerd. You pleaded for a private audience, so deliver."
You wrap your arms tighter around your knees, staring rigidly at your shoes. "I... I just wanted to apologize," you murmur softly. "For how I acted downstairs. And... for the last month. I hate that things suck between us right now, Kook. I really do."
Jungkook doesn't answer right away. He rests his elbows on his knees, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead as he tilts his head to look at your side profile. "I just don't get the sudden shift, Y/N," he says quietly, genuine confusion lacing his words. "One day we're fine, and the next you're sprinting away every time I walk into the same room as you. Did I do something?"
"No! No, it wasn't you," you lie quickly, desperate to keep him from digging any deeper. You scramble for a half-decent excuse that won't ruin your entire life. "I was just... tired, okay? I think I just got completely overstimulated at Namjoon's party. The drinking, the crowd, the chaos... I panicked. I just needed space and I didn't know how to act normal after you know... all that."
Jungkook lets out a low hum. He straightens, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. The dark clouds from earlier have finally parted, revealing a clear expanse of stars. You follow his gaze, tilting your chin up to stare at the constellation directly above the dark basketball court. The quiet between you feels lighter now, the crisp wind whistling softly through the metal bleachers.
Beside you, Jungkook slowly shifts his head, his dark eyes sliding off the stars to focus entirely on the side of your face. He watches you take a quiet breath, studying the way the starlight hits your eyes.
"It was cause of that dare, was it?" he asks suddenly, his voice dangerously calm.
"What?" you squeak out, your heart hammering a against your ribs.
Of course he isn't stupid. Jeon Jungkook might act like a dense, arrogant dick half the time, but he knows you better than anyone on this planet. He knew the exact timeline of when you started acting like a ghost.
"The spin-the-bottle game. The kiss." He turns his body fully toward you, leaning in a fraction closer. "You started acting weird the exact second my mouth touched yours."
"I did not—"
"Y/N, please," he cuts you off. "You literally froze like a corpse, turned red, and vanished two minutes later. Did you really think I wouldn't put two and two together?"
Your throat seals completely shut. You want to say something, tell him he is in the wrong, but before you can blurt out a mortified lie to defend yourself, Jungkook keeps talking.
"Look, if that's what freaked you out, you're taking it way too seriously," he drawls, treating the topic with the absolute casualness of a guy who hooks up with girls on a weekly basis. "It was just a stupid party game. A dumb dare. It’s not like it meant anything, right? Kissing is just... kissing. It's not a big deal."
He giving you a reassurance-filled nudge with his knee. "We're best friends Y/N. A ten-second kiss isn't gonna change twelve years of us being us unless you let it be weird. So just drop the awkward act, okay?"
You sit there, feeling profoundly stupid. While you had spent the last thirty days spiraling the hell out of your mind in your room; unable to sleep, unable to eat, your whole world completely turning upside down by the memory of his mouth—he had barely given it a second thought. To him, it was just a meaningless Friday night thing, no different than kissing any other girl at a party. Meanwhile, you were sitting here barely holding the shattered pieces of your heart together.
"Yeah," you mutter, forcing yourself to keep a casual tone. "Yeah, you're right. It was just a stupid kiss."
"Unless..." Jungkook starts, but before you can even process, he shifts his frame, lunging forward until he's hunched right in front of your face. His nose suddenly inches from yours, his mischievous eyes lock straight onto yours, trapping you entirely.
"Unless you went and fell deeply in love with me," he mumbles, a playful smirk curling the corners of his lips. "Because that would be a real problem."
Your stop breathing.
You slap your palm against his forehead, shoving his face away from yours with way more force than necessary.
"You're crazy!" you choke out. "I am NOT in love with you!"
"Chill out Y/N. Jesus, I was just joking," he chuckles, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his windswept hair. "Don't break my neck over it."
You quickly turn your face away from him. Trying desperately to look unbothered, you lift your trembling hands and gather your hair, pulling the long strands over one shoulder, exposing your flushed neck to the icy draft, desperate for the cool air to soothe the embarrassed fire consuming you.
Jungkook calms down, his low chuckles fading into a contented sigh. His eyes track your nervous movements for a second before his gaze drops to his wrist, where the small, already wrinkled paper gift bag you’d practically shoved at him earlier is still dangling by its thin handles.
"So... Can I open it now?"
"Uh," you clearing your throat to steady your voice. "Sure. I mean... it's really nothing much. Don't expect a masterpiece or anything."
Jungkook doesn't say anything to that. He reaches into the bag, pulling out a small, custom-made photo booklet first. Flicking on his phone flashlight, he props it on his thigh, illuminating the pages as he slowly flips through the handmade DIY scrap project.
A tiny, genuine grin softens his features as he traces a finger over a printed picture of the two of you as ten-year-olds, standing in your backyard with ice cream smeared across your faces.
"Look at you," he laughs under his breath, pointing at the photo. "You used to be taller than me, man. What happened? Did you just stop growing in fourth grade?"
"Shut up," you smile softly.
You look at the photo under the light of his phone. Little does he know, you had cried an absolute waterfall of tears over that exact same photo just three nights ago in your dorm room. You had sat on your floor at 2 AM, tape and scissors scattered around you, terrified out of your mind that your stupid, unrequited feelings were going to burn down the only thing that had ever truly mattered to you: twelve years of unconditional, sacred history.
"Wait, there's more?" Jungkook murmurs, reaching back into the bottom of the bag.
He pulls out a small, black box and pops it open, revealing a silver chain resting inside.
Your pulse spikes again, self-consciousness instantly flaring up. "I... I didn't know if you'd like it," you stumble."It has the first letters of our names. It's kind of cheesy, I know. You don't have to wear it if it's—"
"Shut up. It's cool as fuck," Jungkook cuts you off, staring down at the polished metal. "Seriously. I love it."
At his words, you let out a long breath you didn't even realize you were holding, every tense muscle in your shoulders finally relaxing with a wave of pure relief.
"Put it on me"
"What?"
"Put it on me, nerd," he repeats, leaning back toward you.
You lean in, taking the silver chain from the box. You wrap the necklace around his throat, hyper-aware of everything: the heat radiating off his body, the faint scent of smoke clinging to his shirt and the soft, short hairs at the nape of his neck brushing against your knuckles. You fumble with the tiny silver clasp for an agonizing second, your fingers trembling slightly.
"So," Jungkook speaks up, his posture completely relaxed under your touch. "Are we good now? Back to normal?"
You finally click the clasp into place, snapping your hands back as if his skin had burned you.
"Yeah," you whisper, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "We're good."
Before you can pull away, he reaches his arm out and roughly ruffles your hair, tossing your strands into a messy nest just like he always did when you two were kids.
"Hey! Stooop." you groan, ducking your head, while a helpless smile slips past your defenses anyway.
"Thanks, Y/N," Jungkook pulls his hand back and leans his head against the railing. "Seriously. Best gift tonight."
"Glad you like it."
You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, quietly watching the handsome profile of his face.
A quiet wave of relief washes over you as you realize the uneasy tension that had hung between you two for weeks has finally vanished. You sit together on the bleachers in peaceful silence for a long while, watching the dim city lights in the distance and simply enjoying the stillness of the night, wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence.
And right then and there, you make yourself a silent promise: you’ll get it together. You’ll lock these stupid feelings away in the darkest corner of your chest, throw away the key, and carry the secret to your grave. He will never, ever know that you’re in love with him.
Maybe Jeon Jungkook is a heartless playboy to the rest of the world now. Maybe he breaks hearts across campus without a second thought, treating girls like temporary distractions. But you aren’t naive. You know that one day, the universe will catch up to him.
One day, he’ll fall for someone for real. He’ll have a real girlfriend. A stable relationship. Someone he actually wants to keep.
And when that day comes, it won’t be you.
You could never be the girl he chooses. You’ll simply stand on the sidelines, clapping the loudest from the front row as you watch him love somebody else.
Always the safety net.
Always the shadow.
Always the best friend–never the one he falls for.
You just have to survive one last year until his graduation. One final stretch of holding your tongue, and hiding the wreckage in your heart without ever blowing your cover. If you can make it through to the end–until he walks across that stage, diploma in hand, and leaves this campus behind–then maybe it means you were never truly in love with him after all.
Maybe you were just delusional.
Hopefully.
𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 | 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝔁 | 𝓝𝓮𝔁𝓽 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽
𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: Yippeee! I’m so happy to finally share this first chapter with you guys! I hope you enjoyed it! Not gonna lie, I sweated my absolute ass off trying to finish this today, so I really hope it hit the spot! ʚ˃ ᵕ ˂ ɞ
Please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts. Reading any feedback genuinely gives me the life force I need to keep writing (especially when my part-time job drains every last drop of my energy 💀).
Thank you so much for reading, and I can't wait to hear what you think!ੈ♡‧₊˚*
His devotion to you isn't because of your pretty curves or how the neon lights shine beautiful casts off your skin, it's an obsession that keeps him breathing. An obsession that makes his hallucinations freeze. An obsession where his mind is so spiritually connected to your soul that he starts to feel everything in you. His body moves to yours in a way that helps your benefit. You're petrified of him, just like anyone else. But when will that terror turn into curiosity? When will that curiosity turn into love?
a/n: hey, i’m sorry this is such a quick chapter. i intended to write more but if you hadn’t seen my post, you wouldn’t know that i’ve been HEAVILY sick. i wanted to get something out for you, so enjoy this quick, chaotic chapter :) … so, he doesn't know how to handle things well. he doesn't know what breaks people or glues them together. he just knows what's right and wrong for him. expect major yearning in the next couple chapters, though 😘
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ "I can't believe you!"
A sudden grip on your arm stuttered your words into a choke. You glanced over your shoulder to see Namjoon, smiling weakly at you.
"It's okay," two dimples came your way and you almost gave in right there. "Nothing bad will happen. You can trust him on this, alright?"
"She doesn't need any pep talk, she's fine," Jeongguk flicked his wrist which had motioned Namjoon quickly to push you into the car. You struggled against him, heel digging deep to the ground but his strength had gotten the best of you. "It's not bad at all."
"This better be fun or I'll slap you," you pointed a finger at Jeongguk, who was also entering the drivers space. You ignored Namjoon behind you, who gave a small shoulder squeeze before reaching out to grab ahold of a red, heavy jacket.
He slid it into the window, watching silently as you eyed it down warily. "Put it on, it's fire resistance if that helps you."
With a defeated sigh, you slipped the heavy leather over your shoulders, the thickness of the fabric bunching around you. It smelt like burnt rubber and at the moment, you swore you were gonna puke.
"Check the harness," Jeongguk insisted as he reached across the console and to you.
"Don't you dare, Stalker." you snapped, swatting his hand away before he could get close to touching you, though your fingers fumbled clumsily with the thick straps until you finally managed to click the metal buckle into place across your chest.
By the time you were done, Namjoon had rounded around the car to peak through Jeongguks rolled down window. He tapped the edge, gathering the youngest attention.
"What." Jeongguk sneaked a glance at him.
"That girl never does this shit, and you know that. Take it easy on the curves." Namjoon warned him, looking at you for a split of a second before back to Jeongguk. "Newcomers get very motion sick or anxious, we were all like that at one place."
"Mhm," Jeongguk hummed, keeping his eyes away from Namjoon as he turned the engine into ignition, until it was vibrating under you, the sound rocketing straight through your chest and rattling the teeth in your skull.
Namjoons word had tightened your anxiousness in a burden you've never felt before. Not only that, but the oversized racing jacket Namjoon had forced you into felt like a weighted blanket, trapping the heat and making your skin prickle with nervous sweat.
Without a backward glance at the mechanic, Jeongguk slammed his foot down on the clutch, shifted into first with a brutal crunch, and shot out of the garage bay doors like a bullet fired from a gun. You instantly reached out to grab ahold of the side car door, feeling your body instantly press back into the seat.
The arena outside passed by in a blur, an insanely fast motion that you were lucky enough to never seen before, until now. It was sickening, dizzying so much it had your stomach churning.
"What the hell is your problem!?" You screamed at him, your voice barely even tearing past the loud shriek of the engine beneath you. Your nails dug into the leather handle, palms sweating so heavily your hands slightly slipped against it.
Jeongguk didn't answer. He didn't even look your way.
You looked back at him, the irritation in you growing with fear as you noticed how calm he looked. Jaw slightly clenched, he had one arm gripped on the shifter and the other wrestling the steering wheel. He didn't look dead like how others and you claimed he usually is to be - more like he finally was alive. Breathing normally.
A sharp corner appeared on the track and you barely had enough time to brace yourself before he sharply turned to it, drifting so hard the car almost grind against the tracks outer walls. You felt the insides in your body move along with the car, the gravity's pressure pushing you right against the car door.
"Can you fucking slow down?" And when he didn't answer you, you clutched the door even harder, your bones now trembling under the force of what felt like hands pulling on them until the marrows snapped. "Get me out of this car, Psycho!"
He did respond this time. Not in words, although that's what you were hoping for, even if it were to be a shout or growl. But instead, what came was a tick of his muscle in his temple and the acceleration of the gas pedal. He had it pushed completely on the ground, and by that point your body was in the middle of a sandwich made of car seat and air that reeked of burning rubber.
"I told you to not call me psycho," another sharp curve, another screech from your lungs. It was a turn of violence that felt less like driving and more like an act of war.
Your entire body slammed sideways, the heavy passenger door acting as the only thing keeping you from spiraling right then and there. The force squeezed every ounce of air from your lungs until your vision blurred at the edges.
"I seriously truly hate your ugly, fucking guts," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm going no to throw up, I swear to God! Jeongguk If you don't slow down right now—"
The car jerked violently as he yanked the wheel again, correcting into a straightaway only to immediately slam back down on the accelerator.
"You think this is a game with that 'Psycho' word?" he snarled, his voice cutting through the scream of the engine like a blade. "You think you can just sit there and spit that word at me like I'm some fucking monster you found bleeding in an alley?"
Another sharp curve materialized out of the dark, and instead of braking, Jeongguk threw the car into a hard, aggressive drift. Sparks showered into the air as the outer edge of the car grazed the barrier, a metallic scrape that shrieked against your eardrums.
You let out a bloodcurdling scream, your hands flying up to grip the roll cage above your head as your body was violently thrown back against the seat.
"And are you upset I'm telling the truth!?" You heaved with a sob, terror breaking past your anger. "Get me out of this vehicle you psychotic piece of shit!"
"You think I'm crazy?" he snapped, his chest heaving under his jacket as he threw the car into yet another vicious, blinding turn.
"I do!"
The moment the words left your mouth, the car jerked into a violent, sudden stop. Your body shot forward, leather seatbelt choking into the skin on your neck as you braced the fly to the dashboard.
Only for his hand to shoot out across the console, his large hand catching you squarely by the chest and shoving you hard back against the seat just as your face was an inch away from shattering against the glass.
The force of the stop threw up a sudden cloud of smoke and dust, the thickness crawling around the windows and the smell completely filling the cabin.
You were seconds away from dying and he had saved you... while being the lead cause to that death.
The thought terrified you in the silence that rung through the car. Only the tick of the cooling engine and small tears escaping your throat was enough to tell you that this was all real. This just happened and it's not a dream.
Your hands shook uncontrollably, your fingers clawing at the heavy safety belt cutting deep into your collarbone as your chest heaved in violent waves.
You were alive.
The windshield was intact.
But your entire nervous system was completely, utterly shattered.
Jeongguk didn't move his hand.
His large palm remained pressed flat against the thick fabric over your chest with his long fingers splayed wide. You could feel his frantic heartbeat through his wrist - or perhaps, it was your own.
Slowly, you forced your tear-blurred eyes upward.
Jeongguk was staring straight at you.
"You think I'm crazy," he whispered.
"Let me out," you sobbed, your voice breaking entirely as the last bit of your fight turned into pure terror.
You couldve died.
You pushed weakly against his massive shoulder, desperate for air, desperate for space, desperate to just be anywhere else on earth. "Please, Jeongguk. Let me out of the car."
He didn't say anything, just watched you silently with those eyes you now hate so much as you managed to finally drag a full, shaky breath down your lungs.
Without a single word of warning, his hand dropped from your chest, his foot slammed back down onto the gas pedal, and the car roared back into life.
Your body sunk back into the seat and you shot your arms out, gripping just as hard as your chest was heaving. You didn't scream this time... you couldn't.
Your throat felt completely raw.
You stared blindly through the windshield, tears hot and stinging against your eyelashes and every passing second felt like an eternity.
The car only seemed to go faster and faster. The race track seemed endless.
But just as quickly as it was to begin, the roaring of the engine began to die down. You watched through your blurry vision as the familiar silhouette of Namjoon's garage came into view. You were never so grateful to see a place stained with grease.
Jeongguk didn't even bother to pull in gently. He slammed on the brakes, not as hard as the other time, but enough to give your body a tiny jolt forward.
The engine fell silent.
"Holy shit!" Then came Namjoon's cheers, running out of the open doors with a cellular object dancing in his waving hands. "You beat your record, Ghost! The hell!"
Ignoring Namjoon's cheers, you shoved the passenger door open with your shoulder, the heavy metal swinging wide with a clatter. And the second the opening was wide enough, you scrambled out of the car.
Your legs were trembling so violently they barely supported your weight, your heels skidding against the gravel as you stumbled away from the vehicle.
You didn't make it more than a few yards past the last edge of the garage before your stomach violently churned.
You collapsed forward with your hands braced against your knees, and before you could process the bitter bile rising up your throat - you had thrown up. Puking so violently your throat ached.
The suffocating realization that you had come so close to pain finally tore through your defenses, leaving you heaving in the cold night air.
Once you were done, everything was silent. You choked, lifting a trembling hand to wipe at the corner of your mouth, the motion sickness still wobbling at the edges of your vision. You closed your eyes in great hopes to have it all fade away.
You were just crouching there, waiting for the nausea to pass, for the world to stop spinning, and wishing with every broken piece of your heart that you had never ever collided with Jeon Jeongguk.
Once everything settled back down, you were able to distinct the sound of Jeongguk and Namjoon having a small conversation in the garage. Sounds of tools working echoed in the air, along with a sterness soaking in Namjoons voice.
You couldn't pick up all that came from their mouths, but a few lingers of "Hallucinations" and "Shouldn't have done that" rung in your reddened ears.
With a growl, you tore the heavy racer coat off your shoulders, letting the cool air treat the sweat beading all throughout your frame.
Genuinely, how could things lead this way?
You were at work. Tired, yes, but your day was good. You were wishing to relax at home, to take a nice shower, to feel good - only for all of that to be ruined by a man who's a pained stain in your life.
You scrambled back to your feet, using your clammy palms to swipe off the graven that had stuck to your knees, they burned from the impact but you didn't care. You had only one idea in mind and before running back home, you knew you needed to get it done.
Tucking the jacket under your arms, you raced back toward the entrance of the garage where their conversation had grew more distinctable for you. The warm lights of his garage sent a sudden, throbbing pain to your temple and the sight of Jeongguk didn't want to make you scream so badly ever before.
"How the fuck does a person make hallucinations freeze, Ghost? Tell me that. How the fuck is that possible." Namjoon cursed, running his hand through his short, buzzed hair as if he were going through a crisis. His eyes flickered to you, and before he could speak up, Jeongguk had cut him off.
"I don't know. It just happens. Im scared of that fact too."
You watched as Namjoon's mouth parted in slight shock as you marched straight toward the pair, yanking the heavy racing jacket from under your arm and shoved it harshly against his chest.
"Take your damn jacket," you hissed, voice slightly shaking.
Namjoon instinctively caught the fabric, stumbling back half a step against his workbench as his brow raised at the fury radiating off you.
"Jeongguk, what the fuck did you do?" You heard Namjoon whisper as you whipped around to face Jeongguk, looking him dead in the lifeless eyes.
You didn't hesitate, no second for him to breathe, speak, or pull you back - you brought your hand back and slapped it hard across his cheek.
Jeongguk's head snapped sideways from the force of the blow. He didn't flinch away or raise a hand to stop you. He just stood there, completely emotionless as his face turned back to look at you.
You watched as his jaw clenched, a bright angry mark of hand blooming fiercely across his sharp cheekbone, a complete contrast to his pale skin.
You were centimeters away from being chest to chest with him, your hands curled tightly at your sides, and your entire body trembled so violently you could barely stand.
You wanted to bury yourself. To smack him until he cried as hard as you were. Just anything to take the feeling blooming inside of you away.
"You are a sick, selfish, psychotic piece of shit!" You screamed, the raw sound tearing from your thorny throat. "You think you can just terrorize my workplace, drag me out here, and use me as your own emotional crutch so you could do whatever the hell you were aiming for?! You could've killed us! You didn't care if I died, if I threw up, and certainly that I was crying! Just because you 'broke your record'"?
Jeongguk's dark, consuming eyes bored into yours. The red mark on his face throbbed, yet his expression was completely blank. A dangerous, unnerving void that made the hair on the back of your arms stand up.
"I would never kill you-"
"Right, asshole, because you just so happened to hold me before I went flying out of the windshield." Hot tears spilled down your lashes and tracked down your flushed cheeks. "If you ever, ever, come near me again, I won't just slap you. I'd love to make you a real, cozy home in the closest asylum."
You watched as his face drained through twenty, immediate different emotions, beofre settling on pure rage. A thick vein at his temple began to throb, matching the erratic pulse of a predator backed into a corner.
"An asylum?" Jeongguk repeated, his growl vibrating straight through the floorboards. "You think this is a joke? You think I'm out of my fucking mind-"
Before the rest of the sentence could tear past his teeth, he surged forward with rage, crossing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His massive hand shot out, fingers clenching into the fabric of your shirt with enough force to send you doubling over, pulling you until you slammed against his frame.
"You don't know a damn thing about what you do to me. You don't know what goes through my mind."
Namjoon reached out to hold Jeongguk back by his chest, setting you free until you stumbled back from the force.
"Don't you fucking dare say anything, she already thinks you're insane enough," Namjoon barked. "Stand down, Ghost. Look at me. Stand down."
"I hope you can find the day where you use your mind correctly," trembling from head to toe, you turned on your heel. "And start to think before you ruin everything you touch."
You bolted out of the garage, leaving the raging roar of their voices behind you in the dark.
tags : ̗̀➛ @champagneeeemamiiii @jksbluved @seokvrn @bjoriis @cliosunshine @bunniesprinkles @somewhereinmymemorysblog @kapopm @dandelionlattesblog please ask in comments or dm to be tagged 🤍
❥ Genre: angst, smut, romance, ex-friends with benefits, fuckboy!jungkook
❥ Warnings: explicit language, talk of sex
❥ Summary: All the girls on your campus knew not to get involved with Jungkook. Out of your roommates, he was known for stringing girls along and breaking their hearts. Sadly, that didn’t stop them from wanting him and pursuing him. You just so happened to be one of those girls too. Everything between you was a secret that not even your roommates knew about. Jungkook was the one who ended things before they went too far. Now you both must navigate living together peacefully without raising the suspicions of your roommates. To say it’s complicated would be the understatement of the year.
❥ Previously: 01
“You’ve got to be joking,” you mutter under your breath as you move to pull the blanket up and over your head. If only you could drown in the mattress, then maybe you would get some decent sleep, but no, luck was not on your side tonight. Lifting your head slowly, you squint at the purple-glowing alarm clock next to you.
3:00 AM
Oh, someone just might fucking die tonight. Tossing the covers to the side, you shuffle around the dark room, trying to find your fluffy slippers, only to give up. The noises only increase as the distance to your bedroom door becomes smaller.
“Oh fuckkkk,” comes another obnoxiously off-key moan as you stomp down the hall, only to collide into a rock-solid wall.
“Ow, what the fuck?” You groan, rubbing your nose as you try to make out the tall silhouette in the dark. There was no way you could ever mistake who that frame belonged to; you knew it all too well, traced your fingertips over each dip a thousand times.
“What are you doing out of bed?” Jungkook asks so casually, your eyes adjusting to him in the darkness, making out what looks to be a bottle. A can? Wait, was that whipped cream?
You scoff at the audacity he has to question why you were up and awake at this hour.
“Oh, you know, I just finished helping Batman save the city. Why the fuck do you think I’m up?!” You shout, frustration building up even more once you realize that bitch is still moaning.
“And why the fuck is she still moaning if you’re out here?!”
You add on, so damn irritated that this was the bullshit you were dealing with when you had work in the morning. All you wanted was a decent night of sleep, but it was always something with Jungkook. Taehyung and Jimin got lucky with their rooms being on the other side of the apartment. Your bedroom was down the hall from Jungkook’s, and on top of that you had to share a bathroom with him.
He chuckles softly, and his warm breath fans across your face from the close proximity between the two of you.
“She’s being a good girl and following my orders. Something I remember you seemed to have trouble with,” he replies. Heat rises up your neck, and your entire face suddenly feels aflame. There was no way he said that. Flashbacks of you in Jungkook’s bed start to surface through your mind. The way your toes would curl from just one movement of his fingers, or the way his hands fit perfectly around your throat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you choke out, trying to erase those memories between the two of you.
He was the one who ended things, and there was no point in him bringing those moments back up. There’s barely any space between the two of you, as you stare up at him in the darkness.
“So now you’re gonna pretend none of it happened between us?” He asks as his thumb and index finger capture your jaw, lightly squeezing and sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You hated that he still had this effect on you.
“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” you manage to mumble from the position he has you trapped in. The air between the two of you feels so intense and full of tension. It’s becoming harder to breathe, and every second you stand this close to him, the more your desire for him grows. Jungkook chuckles again as he leans in, your lips centimeters away from touching.
“Then I’ll just have to remind you every chance I get.”
❥ Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog! I love to hear your thoughts ✨
↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢
Going back to reality leaves a bittersweet taste on your tongue and a strange pressure in your chest. So much has happened in Hawaii in the span of just a few days, leaving your existence feeling overwhelming. The rational part of you tries to convince you that, in the end, it’s exactly how it’s meant to be.
After all, this is what you wanted in the first place.
It was your decision.
But rationally, the discomfort from recent events lingers, slowly swallowing you whole. And no matter how hard you try to pretend you can go back to how things were two years ago, too much has happened – there’s no way back.
Dwelling on the past never helped anyone. It only tortures you.
It’s strange – your thoughts spiral as you desperately try to pinpoint exactly what you’re feeling. It’s confusing, painful, and frustrating.
None of the things you’ve done or experienced with Jungkook do you regret. You know very well that, at the time, it was exactly what you wanted – and you acted on instinct. You lived in the present.
Yes, you may have had moments where you told yourself you’d fucked up, that you’d acted purely on your needs and wants. But looking back now, you don’t actually regret it. Maybe you convinced yourself you did – but you don’t anymore.
It was your doing. Yours and Jungkook’s. Two adults who consented to all of it.
Sure, maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea to let it go that far. Maybe you should’ve never crossed the line from being best friends whose closest contact was a tight hug.
But God. You’re insufferable.
Just thinking about all the tension, excitement, and joy makes your toes curl, and you feel defeated knowing you won’t experience it again. Stupid–yes, you’re aware. You’re so fucking stupid.
But if you want to bring your friendship back, you have to set a boundary. No physical contact beyond a hug. No kisses. No intimate touches. No sex.
Just you and Jungkook, writing a new chapter. You know you probably won’t be able to return to the friendship you had years ago – but it’s time to work on it, to get as close as possible. That’s your wish.
Things are awkward for now. But there’s still a fragile, hopeless kind of hope that you’ll be able to work it out somehow.
Small steps, you tell yourself.
Standing at the airport, waiting in line to board the plane, feels like leaving something behind. In a way, you are. Once you’re back in Korea, something unknown and uncertain is waiting for you – especially when it comes to your relationship with Jungkook and how it will continue.
Even your interactions with him have been reduced to a minimum. You’ve only talked about basic things – whether you packed everything before leaving the beach house, the cab’s arrival, the flight departure, or whether you were hungry while waiting to board.
Here and there, he shows you his screen – a few funny videos he’s scrolled past on TikTok. You don’t blame him. He’s trying. But is this how it’s going to be?
Even on the way to Hawaii, with your hands always finding each other, there was nothing hollow between you. Now, it’s different.
And even though you understand the reasons why, it’s still hard to come to terms with.
“Want something?”
“–Hm?” Interrupted by your never-ending thoughts, Jungkook’s voice cuts through them.
He and the flight attendant both look at you, waiting for an answer. The flight attendant – perfectly neat – stands in the aisle, pushing a cart with meals. Jungkook holds his card in hand, ready to pay for the coffee about to be handed to him.
“Um–no, I’m good. Thanks.” You give her a small smile. Jungkook pays, and you turn to stare out the window, met with the same stretch of white clouds you’ve been watching for at least an hour.
Jungkook’s been staring at his phone, too polite to put on headphones and completely zone you out. There’s just nothing you could possibly say to him without feeling the strange atmosphere between you. You’ve tried to make conversation, but it always feels off – ending too quickly, which is probably for the best. At least then it’s not unbearably awkward.
It feels like you’ve run out of topics altogether.
You’ve tried – who’s picking you up from the airport. Whether Taehyung and Jimin reached out. If he’s ready to get back to work.
Just the basics, deliberately skipping anything about the actual vacation. You know it’s waiting for you as soon as you land.
He sips his coffee, not questioning your choice to decline anything. You close your eyes, desperate to clear your thoughts and focus on getting some rest. It takes a while, but eventually you drift into a light nap – still aware of your surroundings, even of Jungkook briefly speaking to a flight attendant who’s gathering trash as he tosses the paper cup away.
You’re not sure how much time passes by, keeping your eyes closed until a soft hand gently shakes you out of your daze.
“We’re here.” Jungkook announces, briefly met with your eyes opening as he unbuckles his seatbelt.
Here comes the reality.
“So–let me get this straight… you two went to Hawaii alone, got into a fight because of another woman and man, then ended up having sex?”
If you could curl up in a ball and hide yourself from Maya’s brown eyes, you would do that instantly. You haven’t even told her all the details and her summary actually fits. First of all, you weren’t planning on telling anyone what went down. But she has a great detective way of asking. One look at your face and she knew you two ended up hooking up again.
“Well–technically yes.”
You told her the part around Nara and Gabriel, reasoning why you’ve done it and up to your satisfaction, she understands why you’ve done it.
You’re currently at hers and Namjoon’s place, luckily Namjoon’s hanging out with friends.
“And what was the reason for ending it?”
You look at her in bewilderment as if it wasn’t obvious.
“Wait–you don’t have any cameras here, right?”
Maya snorts, but there’s nothing wrong with being delusional. You don’t need Namjoon checking any potential footage randomly and hearing the unbelievable story of yours. Not to mention he’s one of Jungkook’s good friends – not that it means anything – but it’s not on your wishlist for anyone else to know.
“No, not yet. We’re planning to buy one because after the wedding I would like to raise a puppy, so we probably will need cameras around here.”
“Puppy?” you snort, “I'm pretty sure you two have other priorities once the honeymoon starts.”
Maya laughs, looking suddenly sheepishly. “You don’t have to worry about any cameras. So kiss and tell.”
“I probably won’t kiss anyone any time soon–for my sake.”
Maya laughs again, finding humorous your sarcastic coping. Well, at least you’re trying to joke about certain things.
“Why would you end it?”
“Maya, come on–” you tsk, shaking your head.
“What? You know my thoughts on this. You’re both single and hot people. You just fit–in all kinds of ways.”
You grab a pillow and throw it at her. Her laugh resounds through the entire living room as she totally forgets the bag that’s been delivered to her. She’s sitting on the couch, a box long forgotten as she seems to eat up every word that’s coming out of your mouth.
“We kept going in circles, Maya. No matter how many times we ended it, somehow we always just ended up–”
“Having the best sex of your lives?”
“Maya, I swear–”
“Sorry, I know it looks like I’m taking it lightly but I just don’t understand what you’re so scared of. If it feels right, who cares?”
“Because it’s not right.” you argue.
She looks shocked, “Oh…”
“It’s not right, in all forms and ways possible. We–I had a pregnancy scare.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, “It made me realize that if the test–if I ended up pregnant, our whole lives would change and that scared me. None of us want that and it was the last drop. We were careless. It keeps ruining our friendship.”
“Friendship?” Maya cocks her brow. Curls tighten in a wide ponytail as her coconut oil fills your senses. “Honey, it’s a relationship by now, no friendship.”
“There’s no relationship.”
“I–” she stops for a second, collecting her thoughts before she opens her mouth again. “Understand what you mean and we don’t have to define the term. I just mean–yeah friends sometimes fuck but you said it yourself. You and Jungkook kept going in circles. You’re both attracted to each other, hell, I don’t think I know anyone personally that would have that much attraction to one another. You can’t get enough of each other. Why just let it be and see where it gets you? If you guys wanna fuck, so be it.”
“I just told you. I don’t need to be reckless, end up knocked up by my friend–that would just complicate everything, not to mention I don’t want kids now. I don’t want it with someone I sleep with.”
“What are you scared of? Hm?” she asks softly. “Are you scared of love?”
You almost choke on your spit, “I don’t love him!”
She cocks her brow, “You sure?”
“I mean I do–not in that way though.”
“Because you don’t let yourself.”
“I don’t need to,” you argue. “A relationship could get messy and I don’t want to lose him. I don’t need to try it just for fun, what happened in Hawaii opened my eyes.”
“I understand,” she says, “Have you guys talked since you arrived? Taehyung was your drive, right?”
“Yeah he was,” you nod, “He obviously asked how the vacation was and all sorts of questions. You know Taehyung. And as for us talking–no. I mean we do have a group chat and we both chatted there, but we don’t really interact directly there.”
“Awh, I’m sorry. You’re sad.”
You try to fix your face from whatever expression there was. “No, I’m okay. I don’t expect everything to be just back to how it was. I think we both need some space before we can see each other.”
“Hey–aren’t you supposed to meet next week? I heard Namjoon about them hanging out at that new place around the corner from where Jungkook lives. I’m pretty sure Joon mentioned you will be there too.”
“I mean–I agreed to come, I just–”
“No, no, no. You won’t decline and you have to go, Y/N!” she almost whines. “The more you keep your distance, the more it will affect you. If you want things to go back to normal, you have to get through this uncomfortable and awkward phase.”
“I know, I know. I’m aware.. I’m just scared of what the dynamic will be.”
“I understand. But I might be there as well. We can just hang out. There’s too many men anyway.” She rolls her eyes as if men bothered you.
You chuckle, “You’re about to get married.”
“Yeah, can’t believe it’s happening. But men are men, come on.” she jokes, both of you laughing together.
“Good thing there aren’t any cameras here, huh?” you joke, another crack of loud laughter easing the topic.
“Well, well, well–if this isn't a full-time beach bum. Finally came to do some work?”
The familiar voice sends shivers down your spine as you can feel the eyes burning your back. Turning around, you’re met with one and only person who would have the guts to call you that so openly and shamelessly. You would’ve laughed at the nickname, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.
Min Yoongi stands there, with fully ironed button-ups and hair slightly longer than you remember them to be. He looks neat, wearing one of his fancy colognes you faintly can smell in the air.
To be completely honest, you kind of like seeing a fresh face that reminds you of your work-life, even though there’s a subtle annoyance, of course. You would never admit it out loud and minus the annoyance, you’re glad to see another man’s face that you interact on a daily basis with. Not that you want to. Since you work together, you’re forced to interact – even though you barely do if it’s not some snarky remarks to annoy the other or something work related.
“Just say you’ve missed me, don’t be shy.” The coffee machine behind you makes a noise while it starts pouring coffee, as Yoongi’s lips curl into disgust.
The sight makes your lips twitch in amusement.
“The only thing I’m missing is the air without your presence.”
“Ouch–” you feign hurt, a palm over your heart. “It’s okay. I know deep down you’ve missed me.”
“Yeah, sure,” he rolls his eyes.
“You came here to talk to me. That proves my point.”
“It proves nothing. I came here to make myself a coffee.” he points out and although you feel your cheeks pinch from the burn, you regain your posture and eye-him up and down.
“God, I almost forgot how annoying you are.”
“My pleasure.” he smiles sarcastically.
“I’m sure it is. Feels like tormenting me is the only pleasure you’re getting.” You make sure he sees the tight, forced smile as he scoffs, briefly looking away.
He wets his bottom lip. “Really?” he asks, a hint of challenge in his voice. “How many times did you have sex with that best friend of yours?”
For a brief moment, you feel heat rise to your cheeks and the back of your neck under his direct words. One thing about Yoongi is that he loves getting under your skin.
You take a second too long to reply, which only feeds into his assumption–and for once, it’s not entirely wrong. Still, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.
So you lie, straight through your teeth.
“None.”
“Mhm,” he hums behind you, clearly not believing you for even a second.
The coffee is done, the machine letting out a soft beep. Taking the cup into your hands, you fall back on the one thing that always masks the truth.
“Don’t worry. Maybe in another universe, you and I would have a chance.”
Watching Yoongi’s expression shift into pure, unmistakable disgust makes you laugh hard enough to nearly spill your coffee.
“Yeah, let’s hope that universe never makes it.”
Snorting, you take a short sip of your coffee, hoping it might wake you from your dazed state. The truth is, you didn’t sleep well. You woke up in the middle of the night so many times you lost count. Every time you closed your eyes, it was like you were back in Hawaii – on the plane, or anywhere Jungkook was. He invaded every inch of your dreams.
You once read that dreams are unprocessed events. This feels like proof of that.
You’ve done everything to make yourself presentable; not a single person could guess how your night really was. Yoongi moves to the machine, making himself a coffee.
Opening your mouth to steer the conversation somewhere else, you’re interrupted by someone calling your name. One of your co-workers greets you and quickly slips into a friendly, if slightly nosy, conversation about your vacation. She asks all the usual questions.
You welcome it, though. It seems you need more interactions with other people – anything to keep your mind from drifting back to the one person who keeps invading it.
When you glance behind you, to where Yoongi had been standing, there’s nothing – only the faint smell of his strong americano lingering in the air.
The rest of the week passes in circles. You go to work, come home, and keep yourself busy with small things – organizing cupboards, doing chores, anything to stay occupied.
The group chat mostly consists of Jimin and Taehyung texting each other. Jungkook says he’s had a lot of work since getting back and is still catching up. He replies here and there, usually when they mention him, but otherwise, the chat feels… off.
It’s true – you and Jungkook haven’t spoken directly. And you find yourself wondering if you should just send him a quick text.
That’s what friends do, right?
Even Taehyung calls both of you out for being unavailable, but you fall back on the same excuse Jungkook uses. You’re busy, catching up with everything.
It’s not really an excuse – you are busy. The difference is, you’re making sure you stay that way.
After Taehyung’s comment, you do try to react more to the things they send, hoping he won’t question it further or corner you the moment he gets you alone.
The day of your hangout is here, and you make sure you look as good as you possibly can. You spend a little too long in front of the mirror, adjusting things no one else would notice, just to feel a bit more in control. There’s an odd feeling blooming in your chest, a quiet anxiety building as you prepare to face Jungkook again. It sits there, persistent, like something you can’t quite name but can’t ignore either.
Once you get there, you feel like a high schooler about to take an oral exam in front of the class. A strange comparison, but you swear – the same tight knots twist in the pit of your stomach. Your hands feel slightly restless, unsure of where to settle, and every passing second stretches just a little too long. You catch yourself overthinking the smallest things–what you’ll say first, how he’ll greet you, whether it’ll feel normal at all.
Much to your disappointment, when you arrive, there’s no sign of Jungkook. At first, you tell yourself it might be for the better if he shows up later. Maybe then you’ll feel a little more in control. But it turns out today isn’t that kind of day.
After twenty minutes of talking about everything and nothing, you drift closer to Jimin. “Where’s Jungkook?”
For a moment, Jimin seems taken aback by your question, but he quickly shakes it off. “He’s not coming,” he says. “I thought you knew.”
“Yeah–yeah. I thought he was coming.” You try to play it off.
But even Jimin seems to notice something’s off. Out of everyone, you’d be the one to know. If the thought lingers in his mind, he doesn’t push it – just gives you a small, easy smile.
“He said he’s got one more big project to finish.”
And maybe that’s true. You know how Jungkook is when it comes to work – how easily he loses himself in it, how little time he leaves for anything else.
But still…
You can’t shake the feeling that you might be part of the reason he didn’t come.
When the waitress comes over to take your order, you sheepishly lean toward Jimin and ask if he’d be able to take you home. You feel a little too relieved when he has no problem with it, already offering to come back with you tomorrow so you can pick up your car.
You order soju, desperate to have fun–to forget the missing presence of your friend.
At some point, the others mention how it’s a shame Jungkook couldn’t make it. You just smile, a little too quickly, a little too tightly, hoping no one lingers on it long enough to connect the dots.
It’s just another reminder of how much everything has changed.
By the time it’s been two weeks since you last saw Jungkook, you start getting the feeling he’s avoiding you. Surely, he can’t be that busy to miss every single hangout.
On Tuesday, you all gather at Jimin’s place for a quick dinner consisting of junk food and a movie that always takes at least an hour to choose. Everyone in the group prefers different genres, which makes it harder to come to a decision.
On Thursday, you invite them over to your place instead.
Jungkook’s excuse for missing it comes in the form of a short message.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. Have an early shoot in the morning. You guys have fun x”
You’re not going to lie – you thought that if you were the one inviting everyone, he’d make sure not to miss it. To say the disappointment settling in your chest was painful would be an understatement.
You try to reason with yourself. He is busy. He wouldn’t lie about that. Even the guys say so. Even Maya knows about it – she mentioned it once while the two of you were on the phone, something about Namjoon needing help picking up a new piece of furniture. Jungkook was usually the first person people called when something heavy needed moving.
Even then, he had to turn him down.
It’s Friday. You should’ve gone straight home, taken the warm bath your body desperately needs to help your muscles relax. But when Jimin’s message pops up in the group chat, asking if any of you are up for fried chicken and beer, you find yourself debating whether you should go or not.
Much to your surprise, Taehyung can’t make it this time either – and, of course, neither can Jungkook.
When Jimin opens the door, blond hair messy and dressed in an oversized shirt, he welcomes you inside. The smell of fried chicken instantly hits you and your mouth waters.
“Finally,” he says dramatically, stepping aside to let you in. “I was starting to think you’d ditch me too.”
You snort quietly, slipping off your shoes as he closes the door behind you. “Tell me something about it.” you mumble under your breath.
You’ve been to Jimin’s apartment more times than you can count. Even if Jungkook’s place is where you usually hang out, you’re no stranger to Jimin’s apartment either.
Jimin’s place doesn’t have that stereotypical bachelor mess you’d expect from a guy living alone. Instead, the place smells faintly of clean laundry and whatever softener he uses, mixed with the lingering scent of fried food. The only exception is the gaming room down the hallway, permanently dim with LED lights and blackout curtains.
The apartment feels comfortable as always, warm lighting filling the space while a game is paused on Jimin’s large television screen.
Jimin walks toward the kitchen island and grabs a can of beer from the fridge before tossing it your way. “Catch.”
You give him a frowned look, thankful your instincts still kick in even at seven in the evening. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“And have Jungkook banging on my door?”
Jimin says it playfully, clearly teasing you. You roll your eyes, cracking the beer open.
“He’d have to be available first,” you mumble under your breath.
Jimin ignores your comment, though a slight grin still pulls at his lips. Cracking open his own beer, he takes a couple long chugs from the can.
The evening settles easily after that. You sit cross-legged on his couch, stealing fries from the takeout bag while Jimin talks about work, complaining about exhausting schedules and people seemingly incapable of doing the simplest tasks properly.
Eventually, the topic shifts to your own job.
“I swear he enjoys stressing me out,”
“Who? Yoongi?” he asks, already grinning and expression bright in recognition. “I kinda miss that guy.”
You stare at him in disbelief. “You miss being insulted every ten minutes?”
“There’s something oddly refreshing about him,” Jimin argues with a shrug. “At least he’s honest.”
“He’s insufferable.”
“Which is exactly why it’s a shame you hate him,” Jimin teases. “He’d make a nice addition to the group.”
The thought alone makes you laugh, memories of Jungkook and Yoongi childishly arguing with each other during the camping trip instantly resurfacing. The memories of those moments still feel fresh, almost as if they happened just last week. Thinking about them brings a wave of nostalgia mixed with something heavier you can’t quite name.
There’s never been a trip without some kind of drama, but this time it feels different. It’s only a reminder of how much your deal with Jungkook changed things.
Back then, the biggest issues were Taehyung and Jimin flirting a little too much and ending up with angry women ready to throw their drinks at them. Compared to now, those problems almost seem laughable.
“He’s avoiding me, isn’t he?”
Jimin looks taken aback by the silent question. After the laugh dies down, he looks as if he’s understanding what, or rather whom, you’re hinting at. Jimin isn’t stupid. He has to see that Jungkook has missed too many opportunities to hang out.
“Kook?” Jimin laughs, reaching for the cold fries that will probably taste like gum any minute now.
Nodding, you finish the beer. “I mean, he’s clearly not interested in hanging out.”
The moment the words leave your mouth, you notice the way Jimin’s eyes drift away. He clears his throat, suddenly far too focused on taking another long chug of his beer.
You’ve known him for years. You know his body language. And this – this is Jimin trying very hard not to accidentally say something he shouldn’t.
“Spill it.”
Jimin tries to look as if he has no idea what you’re talking about.
“Jimin,” you repeat through clenched teeth.
He looks almost apologetic then, scratching the back of his slightly messy blond hair.
“We hung out with Jungkook two days ago.”
You nearly choke on your own spit.
This whole time, you genuinely thought he was avoiding everyone. A part of you held onto the hope that maybe he truly was just busy with work, that he simply didn’t have the time.
“You what?” You try to keep the offense at bay, but after the one beer that’s already enough to affect you, you fail miserably.
“Listen, it wasn’t intentional. You were working, and Taehyung and I were already at his place when Jungkook called him about something and ended up stopping by. I swear, we’d never intentionally not include you.”
Trying to process the revelation, you know there’s nothing to be mad about. Hurt, maybe–but that has nothing to do with Jimin or Taehyung. All this time, you’d been sitting here thinking Jungkook had only been keeping in contact with everyone through messages.
You know it was random. Jungkook happened to come over, and it naturally turned into the three of them hanging out. There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t need updates about everyone’s whereabouts every second of the day.
You were never the type to get upset when the guys spent time together without you. It’s normal. You’re all adults with different schedules, jobs, and responsibilities.
But still, something about it stings.
Jungkook had no problem randomly showing up at Taehyung’s place. Somehow, he found the time for that. Yet the last time you saw him was after you landed back from Hawaii, and since then, your only contact has been a handful of short messages that barely count as conversations.
For a brief second, you think about reaching out. Just calling him and getting rid of this awful uncertainty sitting in your chest.
But clearly, he’s not interested.
And no matter how much you try to stay reasonable about it, emotions get the best of you. Because the truth is – whether you want to admit it or not – you’re hurt. And maybe a little angry too.
“I’m not mad, Jimin,” you assure him, noticing the guilty look practically written all over his face. “So, he’s only avoiding me, huh?”
“No–I don’t know, I don’t think he is.”
“Come on, Jimin.” You let out a dry, unbelieving laugh that makes it obvious you don’t buy a single word of it.
“Well–what exactly happened in Hawaii?”
You look slightly taken aback by the sudden question. It doesn’t sound invasive, though – more curious than anything else. Like Jimin is simply trying to piece the puzzle together on his own. Clearly, even he can sense the shift in your dynamic with Jungkook.
Your mouth opens, then closes again.
“Because before you guys went, everything felt normal.”
You know that. And you’re not ready to spill everything.
It’s not that you desperately want to hide it or keep it some shameful secret, but a part of you believes it’s simply too private. Too personal to be laid out and picked apart by multiple people. It’s not only your story to tell either – Jungkook is part of it too.
Talking about it out loud somehow makes everything feel far too real. Almost invasive.
If Maya hadn’t caught onto it herself, you probably wouldn’t have been nearly as honest with her either.
The person you actually need to talk to is Jungkook.
You genuinely thought the two of you ended things on a good note. You talked about it. Set boundaries. Tried to be mature about the entire situation.
But somehow, it’s only worse now.
And when you really think about it, the only thing truly happening is the lack of contact with Jungkook. That’s what’s making everything feel so unbearably wrong.
“He asked about you. You know?”
Your head snaps toward him instantly, heart briefly picking up at the revelation. For one stupid second, hope flickers inside you at the thought that maybe Jungkook still cares.
But then the irritation comes just as quickly, settling across your face in a frown. Are you supposed to feel touched by that?
“He’s got my number, just FYI.”
Jimin sighs, leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know what happened with you guys, though knowing you, I can imagine–”
You shoot him a nasty look.
“–but I know Jungkook never acts without a reason,” he finishes anyway. “I just don’t see some huge problem here. He does care.”
“Well, if he wants to ask about me,” you mutter bitterly, “he could do that by asking me. Not you guys.”
“Yeah, he should. I didn’t know you guys weren’t in touch at all. I guess we both were kind of surprised with Tae when he asked about you, but it wasn’t anything worth to be suspicious about. But now that you’re asking…”
You look away, unable to stop yourself from drifting into your thoughts. Jimin reaches out and gently squeezes your shoulder in comfort.
“He really does have a lot of work,” he says quietly. “His schedule’s completely packed. He hung out with us for less than an hour, if that helps at all.”
It doesn't exactly make you feel better. You would’ve been happier hearing that they actually got proper time together. But hearing Jimin confirm that Jungkook wasn’t lying about work does ease your mind a little.
Not that you truly believed he would purposely lie to you. Still, it felt strange. Jungkook always made time somehow – even if it was just for less than an hour, like he did with them.
“Just talk to him, yeah? He really seemed sorry about ditching us lately.”
You nod quietly, exhaustion slowly settling into your body alongside the alcohol buzzing lightly in your system. Jimin notices it immediately and doesn’t even bother asking whether you’re planning to drive home.
“Take the bed,” he says casually while collecting the empty cans from the coffee table. “You’re the only woman in the group. We have standards.”
You snort tiredly. “Your standards are fried chicken and cheap beer.”
“Exactly,” he replies proudly. “Premium treatment.”
The small exchange earns a genuine laugh out of you, easing some of the heaviness sitting in your chest. Still, later that night, once you’re alone in Jimin’s bedroom after taking a shower, the thoughts return all over again.
His room smells faintly like clean laundry and the cologne he always wears. Dressed in one of Jimin’s oversized shirts and a pair of soft cotton shorts to sleep in, you sit against the headboard for a while, absentmindedly staring at your phone resting beside you on the bed.
Maybe you really do have to talk to Jungkook alone.
Even if he’s genuinely busy. Even if he truly feels bad about missing out lately. Something still feels off. Because before all of this, he would’ve texted you daily without fail – and you would’ve done the same.
It’s not like you can place all the blame on him either. You haven’t exactly been reaching out much yourself.
But back then, Jungkook would practically blow up your phone if you disappeared for too long, always wanting to know if you were okay, if you got home safely, if you ate properly.
And maybe it’s selfish to miss that. Maybe it’s unfair to expect him to still act that way just because he always used to. Why should he be the only one making the effort?
Either way, there’s something hanging in the air.
Which is why you find yourself on the way to Jungkook’s place the next day. You went home only to change clothes and make yourself look presentable, as if your worries haven’t revolved around him this entire time.
You opted for high-waisted black pants and a casual white shirt, a mini bag hanging from one shoulder while the other hand carries a paper bag with flavored milk waiting inside for him. It’s a thoughtful gesture, perhaps even a more thought-out attempt to mend things between you.
Jungkook’s building has always been more secure, but recently they updated the system. Now, you need a code to get inside unless someone lets you in from upstairs. Jungkook mentioned it briefly during one of the dinners in Hawaii, complaining about how annoying it was whenever he forgot the code after late schedules.
Thankfully, before you can even think about calling him, someone exits the building. One of Jungkook’s neighbors – a man in his forties whose name you’ve never learned despite seeing him around countless times – holds the door open for you on his way out. A gym bag hangs from his shoulder, clearly on his way to work out.
The two of you exchange quick greetings before you step inside the familiar building, already knowing the way by heart.
On the way upstairs, standing inside the elevator, nervousness slowly starts creeping into your chest and you don’t even fully understand why.
You just hope he’s still home.
Jungkook sent a picture into the group chat this morning – his computer screen filled with editing software and dozens of photos scattered across it. So you hope he’s still dedicating his time to that, because this entire thing would feel like a complete failure if he wasn’t home.
The image of yourself sitting outside his apartment door like some abandoned puppy immediately makes you cringe. Especially at the thought of him coming home late and finding you there.
Stepping out of the elevator, you’re met with the familiar clean scent lingering through the hallway, one you’ve grown used to after coming here so many times.
Stopping in front of Jungkook’s door, you embarrassingly find yourself trying to listen for any kind of noise behind it, something that would confirm he’s actually home. But all you’re met with is silence.
Before anyone can catch you awkwardly peeping by his door, you quickly press the bell, hearing its faint sound through the thick, secure walls.
For a while, which is surely just a few seconds but feels like hours, you hear nothing. For a while – surely only a few seconds, though it feels much longer – you hear nothing. Knowing how well Jungkook’s heavy door isolates sound, you bite the inside of your cheek and wait patiently.
Then the door lets out a soft beep before unlocking, and you’re completely unprepared when it swings open and reveals him.
He’s dressed in all black – an oversized t-shirt paired with shorts, unsurprising considering Jungkook always runs warm. His hair is freshly cut too, shorter than you remember.
But none of that is what truly catches your attention.
Your focus settles on his dark eyes that slightly widen the moment they land on you standing in front of his door. His lips part just a little as he grips the handle, simply staring at you for a second too long.
Well, that’s not exactly the reaction you were hoping for.
So you end up being the first one to speak.
“Hi.”
His gaze slowly drifts over your appearance as if he’s still trying to process the fact that you’re actually standing there.
“Hi,” he finally says back.
“Sorry for showing up unannounced. I wasn’t sure if you were still home.”
For a brief moment, he looks confused by how you’d know that, but realization quickly settles across his face. The picture in the group chat. Of course you saw it.
He knew you read the message.
He just clearly wasn’t expecting you to show up at his door.
And for a split second, you feel oddly satisfied by how caught off guard he looks. Because this way, he can’t really avoid you anymore.
Unless he decides to close the door in your face.
“Are you still working? Can I come in?”
He clears his throat before opening the door wider. “Yeah, come in.”
You brush past him, instantly greeted by the familiar comfort of his home mixed with the scent of freshly made coffee. But even stronger than that is his cologne. Despite not smelling it for the past two weeks or so, it immediately brings a strange sense of comfort and familiarity.
Slipping the bag off your shoulder, you place it onto the small seat by the shoe rack. Still holding the paper bag in your hand, you realize you never let go of it.
“Oh, I brought you something.”
Turning around, you find Jungkook quietly watching you, his attention fully on you without saying a word. His eyes drop to the paper bag as you hand it over.
He pulls out the bottle of flavored milk, instantly recognizing his favorite flavor before placing it back inside.
“Thanks,” he says softly. “Will come in handy.”
You bite your lower lip, and Jungkook’s eyes instantly drop to the movement. He stays awfully silent, and you can’t tell whether he’s still shocked by your sudden appearance or simply not too pleased about it.
“I’m sorry if I barged in here unannounced. If it’s not a good time, I could–”
“No, it’s fine. Come in.”
He motions with his head, and you quietly follow him deeper into the apartment.
His place is clean as always, and aside from the two cups of coffee sitting on the coffee table, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Soft music drifts from one of the rooms – the one that used to be your room while you moved in temporarily. But as you step closer, you notice another presence.
It takes you a second to recognize the familiar face you haven’t seen since the camping trip. That trip really seems determined to keep haunting you lately, as if the universe desperately wants you to remember every single part of it.
Ester stands there with her hair dyed a soft reddish color, holding Jungkook’s prized possession – his camera.
“Oh, hi, Y/N! It’s so nice to see you again!” she greets cheerfully, genuinely looking happy to see you.
Jungkook stands close enough beside you for you to feel his presence, but you purposely avoid looking at him, not wanting him to see the complete shock written across your face. Ester is probably the last person you expected to see here. Honestly, the thought of finding anyone in his apartment never even crossed your mind.
Suddenly, showing up here unannounced feels incredibly stupid.
“Hey, Ester. Nice to see you too.” You force a small smile. “Are you guys working on something?”
The moment the question leaves your mouth, you mentally curse at yourself. It sounds oddly pointed, almost as if you’re trying too hard to casually confirm what exactly she’s doing here.
“I reached out to Jungkook. I got this job and thought I could use some help from a real professional here.”
“Professional, huh?”
It’s the first time Jungkook grins since opening the door for you. The smile is faint, touched with quiet amusement, and Ester laughs before confidently nodding at her own statement.
You watch the interaction unfold and suddenly feel strangely out of place standing there. Especially when Ester looks effortlessly pretty in her short summer dress, completely comfortable in Jungkook’s apartment while you stand there feeling like an unexpected interruption.
“Well, if I knew you had someone over, I wouldn’t have come,” you say, already stepping slightly back. “I’ll let you guys work.”
Ester immediately shakes her head, dismissing the idea with an easy smile. Glancing down at the watch around her wrist, she looks back at you kindly.
“I was actually about to head home anyway,” she says. “We already went over everything I needed.”
She thanks Jungkook for helping her, and he smiles softly in return.
“Keep in touch,” he tells her while walking her toward the hallway. “You have my number in case you need help with anything, but I’m sure you’ll do great.”
You almost want to let out a bitter laugh at the mention of his number.
Because if you hadn’t shown up here today, he probably wouldn’t have reached out at all. And honestly, who knows how much longer the two of you would’ve kept tiptoeing around each other like this.
Actually, no.
To tiptoe around each other, there would first need to be some contact between you at all.
She bids both of you goodbye, and Jungkook walks her to the door. From where you stand, you only catch the faint sound of their goodbyes, mixed with quiet wishes of good luck and gratitude for his help.
The door clicks shut behind them.
Slowly, you make your way toward the living room, eyes landing on the untouched cup of coffee still sitting on the table. It looks like Ester barely even took a sip from it, and the realization makes you close your eyes briefly in annoyance at yourself.
“She wasn’t supposed to leave this early, was she?”
Jungkook notices the untouched coffee too, faint steam still rising from the cups as he answers.
“No.”
“Oh, fuck. I’m such an idiot.” You groan, throwing your head back in embarrassment.
“You’re not,” he says calmly. “Ester’s just too polite to say no to anything.”
You almost ask whether Ester was really here only for work, but the thought dies quickly in your head. Because it wouldn’t sound like harmless curiosity from a friend teasing him about having a woman over.
It would sound more like an ex still hung up on him and seconds away from causing a jealous scene.
So instead, you simply sigh. “Yeah… she’s a nice girl.”
Jungkook doesn’t comment on that. He stays quiet, only asking if you want something to drink.
Not even a drink feels capable of washing away your embarrassment right now, so you shake your head.
Silence settles between you after that.
And slowly, you start getting the feeling that Jungkook is purposely choosing not to say anything first, almost as if he’s waiting for you to explain why you suddenly showed up here.
Somehow, that irritates you a little. Because he’s not even questioning your presence.
He just watches you quietly, eyes lingering on you as if he’s studying you. Or maybe he simply doesn’t care enough to ask.
You hate that you can’t tell what he’s thinking anymore.
“Heard you and the guys hung out,” is all you say. It’s not meant to sound accusing, and your voice stays soft. “I know it wasn’t exactly planned.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he confirms quietly.
Silence stretches between you again afterward. Your eyes drift around the apartment until they land on the framed family pictures standing on the shelf. In one of them, you’re there too alongside Taehyung and Jimin.
The picture was taken years ago.
You look so young in it. Every time you see that photo, you remember how Taehyung and Jimin used to joke that you were like their little sister. They always took special care of you, all of them did in their own ways.
“Are you avoiding me, Kook?”
The question leaves your mouth before you can overthink it any further. Straight to the point.
Jungkook stares at you quietly. He doesn’t look surprised by the question. His eyes briefly drift away as he opens his mouth, clearly about to say something, but just like with Jimin – you know him too well.
“Oh my god,” you breathe out, realization instantly crashing into you. “You actually are.”
It comes out sounding more accusing than you intended.
But Jungkook doesn’t deny it either. He only sighs softly before closing his eyes for a moment, as if exhausted by this entire situation already.
“Why?”
You wish you didn’t sound this weak, but at least you’re being honest with him.
“I wasn’t lying,” Jungkook says quietly. “I really was busy.”
“You know I’m not stupid,” you tell him. “I know when something’s going on. And I know I wasn’t exactly reaching out either, but I just… I wanna know why.”
Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose before quietly telling you; “I was giving you some space.”
“Space?” you repeat, disbelief immediately settling into your voice. “That’s what you thought I needed?”
He only stares at you.
“I’ve missed you.”
The confession leaves your mouth before pride can stop it.
Jungkook’s features soften almost instantly, and he lets out a quiet sigh.
“Maybe I was the one who needed space.”
The words hit you so unexpectedly it almost feels like being slapped across the face. You stare at him, unable to believe he actually said that out loud.
“Why?” Your voice cracks around the question.
Jungkook takes a small step closer then, finally holding your gaze properly. The eye contact feels almost too intense after weeks of distance. He gently shakes his head, already regretting the wording.
“That came out wrong,” he says softly. “The trip was overwhelming for both of us, and I thought maybe we just needed some time to relax.”
“Relax?” you nearly whine, frustration and hurt mixing together embarrassingly fast. “You suddenly cut me off, Jungkook. You’ve never done that before.”
The second the words leave your mouth, you realize how childish you probably sound.
But at the same time, something inside your chest painfully cracks at the realization that this is actually happening.
“I really did have a lot of work to catch up on,” he says. “I’ve taken too much onto my shoulders lately.”
“Kook, that’s an excuse and you know it.”
Your voice softens despite the frustration bubbling underneath it.
“No matter how busy you’ve always been, you still texted me at least. And I know I can’t expect you to always be the one reaching out first–that’s on me too, because I should’ve reached out sooner.”
You shake your head lightly, trying to gather your thoughts.
“It’s not like it’s been months or anything. But… I just know–”
Before you can even finish the sentence, your eyes betray you. Tears suddenly well up, and all it takes is one look into Jungkook’s dark eyes quietly watching you for everything to feel far too overwhelming.
Both of you know what this is really about.
It doesn’t matter that it’s only been around two weeks of barely any direct contact. The two of you have never been like this before.
“God,” you mutter under your breath with a shaky sniffle, trying not to cry.
The second Jungkook notices it, he steps closer.
“You said I wouldn’t lose you.”
“You’re not losing me,” he assures softly. His fingers carefully tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and the simple touch almost hurts with how much you missed it.
“Then why does it feel like I am?”
Jungkook doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you. Instantly, you bury your face into his t-shirt, relaxing into his warmth like your body remembers him before your mind can even process it.
You really don’t want to let go.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs honestly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Resting his cheek against your hair, he gently sways the two of you side to side in a comforting motion. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought I was doing us a favor.”
“Well, you weren’t,” you mumble against his chest, earning a quiet chuckle from him.
“Yeah,” he sighs softly. “That’s on me.”
“Kook.”
“Hm?”
“Promise me you won’t do that again.”
You pull away just enough to look at him properly. He looks unfairly perfect. Smooth skin freshly shaved, dark eyes softened by concern, and even the tiny scar beneath his left cheek somehow brings you comfort through its familiarity.
You’ve seen that scar from much closer distances than any best friend ever should have.
“I promise.”
And for now, it feels like a soft balm over your scattered chest.
The next time you see each other is at one of the bars you’ve visited a couple of times with your friends. It’s the usual spot the guys choose alongside Maya. Tonight, though, it’s different. It’s the night of both Namjoon’s and Maya’s bachelor and bachelorette parties.
It’s refreshing that they decided to meet with everyone first before it’s time for the ladies and gentlemen to go their separate ways. One of Namjoon’s only requests was no strippers or anything too crazy like a typical bachelor party. The guys agreed, but since Taehyung is attending, you have a feeling something crazy is bound to happen anyway. He’d never let a night like this stay completely tame.
When the no-strippers rule first came up, Taehyung looked genuinely disappointed. His argument was simple: it’s not every day one of your friends gets married. Even so, no one is willing to tell you what they actually have planned for Namjoon.
Since Namjoon isn’t interested in any of the stereotypical bachelor party traditions, Maya decided, out of respect for not only her soon–to–be husband but also their marriage, that she doesn’t want any strippers either.
As the wedding draws closer, it’s sweet to see the two of them so in love, practically glued to each other even now as everyone gathers in the large reserved booth. Maya has invited some of her cousins and friends from back home, making the group even bigger than usual.
“Oh, come on. Not even a hint?” you whine, tonight’s plans becoming the main topic of conversation around the table.
Jungkook sits across the table, a small amused smile resting on his lips as he watches your latest attempt to squeeze any information out of them. Not even he gives away the secret.
It’s not like you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. They’re the ones talking about it, so why won’t they just say what they have planned? You’d happily tell them what you had planned, but Maya insisted on keeping it a secret just for the fun of it.
Poor Namjoon remains completely clueless. Since the guys planned everything, he’s probably the most innocent person sitting at the table.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Taehyung muses, not bothering to hide the smirk behind his whiskey glass before taking a slow sip.
All of the guys are dressed to the nines, turning heads the moment they walked into the bar. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Maya’s cousins either, whose attention perks up every time Jimin, Taehyung, or Jungkook say anything. You’d think you would’ve gotten used to it by now, and most of the time you simply ignore it, but it’s always the same whenever the group goes out.
To their credit, Maya’s cousins respectfully keep their attention away from Seokjin. The wedding band resting on his ring finger is more than enough to make it clear he’s off-limits.
“You men are evil,” Maya comments with a huff, nuzzling into Namjoon’s chest. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head, hiding his smile in her hair.
Taehyung checks the watch around his wrist, the time for everyone to go their separate ways quickly approaching. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring your soon–to–be husband back in one piece.”
“Those words sound awfully strange coming out of your mouth,” you tease. He scoffs at you, though the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips gives him away.
“You’re just jealous. I know you’d kill to be on our team tonight.”
Truthfully, you don’t mind it at all. Maya’s cousins seem genuinely nice, even if they mostly keep to themselves, chatting among each other as family tends to do. They have, however, spent a good portion of the evening shamelessly admiring your friends as if they’d been presented on silver platters.
You can’t really blame them. Seeing women sneak glances at your friends has become a normal part of going out together.
“Keep talking and the only thing I’m gonna kill is you.” You purse your lips at Taehyung, whose eyes instantly light up with excitement. He lives for this kind of back-and-forth, and you know he’s enjoying this side of you just as much as you enjoy giving it to him.
From the corner of your eye, you notice Aisha and Ada – Maya’s cousins – exchange a quick glance, clearly not expecting this kind of dynamic between the two of you.
Oh, they have no idea.
“Come get me.”
Namjoon lets out a laugh at the two of you, quickly followed by everyone else around the table. You huff dramatically, crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back in your seat with exaggerated annoyance.
“We’re going to have the time of our lives,” Maya says with a smug smile, holding up a finger decorated with the white bridal sash draped across her shoulder that proudly reads Bride. You all surprised her with it the moment she and Namjoon walked into the bar hand in hand, looking as in love as ever. “You boys are going to wish you were there with us.”
Suddenly, Maya reaches for a paper bag you somehow hadn't noticed before. You did see Aisha carrying it earlier, but you never really gave it a second thought. Now, watching Maya pull it onto the table with a mischievous smile, you have a feeling you probably should have.
“Since all of my girls here are single, I don’t want to ruin your fun just because I’m about to get married,” Maya says with a grin. “I’m going to be a happily married woman soon, but I hope we’ll still have nights like this–just us girls, celebrating for no reason at all.”
You already don’t like where this is going. Especially after hearing the word single.
Maya reaches into the paper bag and pulls out a silver tiara. Across the front, in glittering letters, is one simple word: Single.
You almost let out a whine.
Then you watch in disbelief as she pulls out another. And another. One for each of you.
Her cousins happily accept theirs, immediately placing them on their heads before flashing them toward the guys with playful smiles, almost as if expecting them to take the hint. They giggle amongst themselves, whispering something to each other.
Meanwhile, you simply stare at Maya's outstretched hand holding your tiara, your smile becoming increasingly crooked.
She notices the look of pure disgust on your face, nudging the tiara closer.
You sigh dramatically before reluctantly taking it from her, earning a triumphant smile as she settles back into Namjoon's embrace. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist.
Taehyung lets out a quiet cackle the second he sees the tiara in your hands. You eye the thing as if it might bite you.
Jimin, on the other hand, looks more skeptical. You catch him subtly glancing toward Jungkook before quickly looking away again.
You don't think much of it. The guys have still been walking on eggshells around the two of you ever since Hawaii.
The truth is, you simply hate being labeled single like it's an open invitation for every man in the room to come try his luck. Going out already means dealing with enough unwanted attention, and you don't mean that in an arrogant way. Drunk men can be relentless.
One of the unexpected perks of always hanging out with the guys is that most people assume you're dating one of them–or they're simply too intimidated to approach. The guys have always been protective of you. They know exactly how some men can be.
And with them around, you've never once questioned whether you were safe.
“Come on, put it on.” Maya nudges you, something mischievous dancing behind her eyes.
Letting out a long, defeated sigh, you place the tiara on top of your head.
The moment you do, you catch Jungkook's gaze across the table. He isn't looking at you. His eyes are fixed on the silver tiara resting on your head.
He knows exactly what you're thinking. He knows you. He knows you've never been a fan of strangers approaching you with only one intention in mind – to get their hands on you.
“Are you playing matchmaker tonight, Maya?” Taehyung muses, clearly finding the whole thing amusing. Out of everyone at the table, he’s probably the last person to look for anything long-term, which is exactly why he finds it so funny.
“Maybe,” Maya says with a mischievous smile. “You never know. The love of your life could be sitting in a bar somewhere right now. Who knows? Maybe the next wedding we’ll be planning is one of yours.”
Taehyung lets out an exaggerated sound of disgust. “Don't put that curse on me.” He clutches his chest dramatically.
You, Jungkook, and Jimin burst into laughter. Mostly because, out of everyone at the table, Taehyung is probably the only person you can genuinely picture still breaking hearts well into his eighties.
Soon enough, it's time to say your goodbyes. Everyone finishes their drinks, and the last sip leaves a familiar burn at the back of your throat as the alcohol settles warmly in your stomach.
You're not planning on getting wasted, though. If anything, you have a feeling you'll end up being the responsible one of the group. Maya has made it very clear she intends to make the most of this night as an unmarried woman, and judging by the excited looks on her cousins' faces, they don't seem interested in holding themselves back either.
You don't want them to.
That's the whole point of tonight–to party, drink. You'll definitely join in, just... carefully.
You know yourself a little too well. Sometimes, once you start drinking, it's surprisingly hard to stop. And that usually ends with you throwing up everything you've consumed in the past twenty-four hours – sometimes it even feels like you're bringing back Christmas dinner for good measure.
As Maya and Namjoon share a long goodbye kiss, you swear they're seconds away from forgetting the rest of you are even there. For the first time, you catch a glimpse of something almost hungry in the way Namjoon looks at her. He's always adored Maya, but he's usually much more restrained about showing it in public.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you quickly look away, feeling oddly like you're intruding on a private moment.
When your gaze lands elsewhere, you find Jungkook already watching you. A knowing smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, clearly amused by the horrified expression on your face.
Especially considering you and Jungkook used to be far worse whenever you were alone and out of your friends' sight. And the two of you weren't even the ones getting married.
So why do your cheeks suddenly warm beneath Jungkook's gaze?
Jungkook traded his usual oversized clothes for tailored black trousers and a black satin shirt, the top buttons left carelessly undone. The glossy fabric catches the dim lights of the bar, making him look effortlessly expensive.
Before you can say anything, he steps closer. His eyes immediately find the silver tiara perched on your head, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Without a word, he reaches up and straightens it where it sits slightly crooked, his fingertips careful not to disturb your hair.
As his hand falls away, his eyes naturally drift down to your lips, painted with a soft brown lipstick that somehow complements the silky blush pink dress hugging your figure. The satin fabric catches the light with every small movement, the delicate straps leaving your shoulders bare while the fitted silhouette flows effortlessly down your body.
“Be safe, okay?” he hums.
“You know I’m used to having my personal security team around,” you joke.
Jungkook huffs out a quiet laugh. “Well, I’m one call away.”
“I’m not gonna call you, Kook. You guys have a good time, okay?” you smile, ready to walk away for your own sake.
Before you can, Jungkook instinctively reaches for your hand. His fingers slip between yours for just a second, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
“If anything happens,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument, “you call me. You hear me?”
He's serious, searching your eyes for genuine agreement before the two of you go your separate ways.
You give him a small nod.
It isn't enough.
His brows knit together ever so slightly, waiting.
“I will,” you assure him with a soft sigh. “Now go have fun. You're off-duty tonight.”
You try to lighten the mood with the joke, but it doesn't quite land. Jungkook still doesn't look entirely convinced. It's not that he thinks you need a babysitter. He simply can't seem to shake the instinct to look out for you.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Taehyung calls out, not bothering to hide the grin on his face. “Not to interrupt whatever friendly thing you've got going on here, but even Maya and Joon managed to pull themselves away from each other. We're heading out.” He jerks his head toward the exit. “Go find yourself your future husband.”
“Tae, I swear–” you warn, fixing him with a glare.
Taehyung cackles, immediately throwing both hands up in surrender. He knows exactly how to get under your skin, and he never misses the opportunity.
Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh before Taehyung and Jimin begin pulling him away toward the exit. Still walking backward, he points at you one last time.
“Remember,” he calls, “one call away?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, security–” Looking past him, you raise your voice toward Jimin and Taehyung. “Would you take this man outside? He's getting obsessive.”
The three of them burst into laughter. Jungkook only shakes his head, allowing himself to be dragged farther away.
Just before he disappears through the door, you quietly mouth, “One call away.”
He can't hear you.
But he reads it on your lips.
The slight furrow between his brows finally eases, and a satisfied smile appears on his face. He gives you a small salute before disappearing from view.
You can't help but laugh to yourself until the guys are completely out of sight.
“Not a word.”
Turning around, you find Maya standing there with her arms crossed and a knowing smile stretched across her face. You immediately point a warning finger at her, trying to hide the grin threatening to take over your own lips.
Maya lifts both hands in surrender.
“Fine,” she says innocently. “Let's get this night started, girls.”
Excited squeals erupt around you as everyone grabs their bags, following Maya toward the exit.
Maya stays true to her words and doesn't spoil anything about where you're headed. As eager as you are, you know the more you ask, the more she'd enjoy watching you squirm in anticipation. From the looks of it, the girls seem to be just the same. Maya actually has a lot in common with the boys, almost making it feel as if she's filling their place in their absence.
The difference now is that you're actually the one squirming the least for answers, watching the smug smile on Maya's face as she sits comfortably in the rented limousine she'd somehow managed to book. She's always been a party girl, and you have a feeling tonight is going to be anything but a quiet tea party. The girls keep throwing guesses her way, but Maya remains resistant to all their whining, laughing the entire time as she clearly enjoys the push and pull.
As you watch the streets drift by through the tinted window, you catch your reflection and the soft brown lipstick painted across your lips. Jungkook invades your mind, and the memory of his dark eyes dropping to them brings you back to the moment that happened not that long ago. His insistence on making sure you'd be safe and call him if anything happened makes your heart warm, just like it always has whenever he shows you that kind of attention and care. But tonight, it also skips with excitement. Even though you're excited for what's about to come and ready to enjoy the night, your secret wish is that he were here.
"...Any guesses?"
The sound of your name pulls your attention away from the busy streets outside. Looking up, you find everyone staring at you, Maya tilting her head as if wondering what has you so quiet.
Maya's a friend, and you've been very honest with her. You've probably told her more than you ever did the boys, which makes sense because she's not as involved in the little inner circle the four of you have. Plus, her perspective as another woman has become some sort of peace of mind. Even though she can sometimes be a little too honest – perhaps even invasive when it comes to voicing her blunt opinions, which you've grown used to dodging or arguing against – she's kind, bold, and wild. Hence the reason she doesn't understand your fear of screwing up the biggest and most important friendship you have.
You're not going to lie, sometimes you listen to her like she's the tiny devil sitting on your shoulder, encouraging you to stop overthinking and simply enjoy the moment. Maybe her influence played a small part in you getting carried away.
"Nah, you wouldn't tell us either way," you laugh, making Maya's smile widen as she shrugs. "We'll find out soon enough."
"Now that's the vibe!" Maya laughs. "Don't get me wrong, watching you all beg for answers has been pretty entertaining."
"So, Maya..." Ada begins, making the rest of the girls sit up a little straighter in their seats. The soft pink ambient lights glow around the limousine while the panoramic roof reveals a sky already sprinkled with stars. "Who's the hot guy?"
“More like... which one?” Zara giggles. Her deep brown skin glows beneath the pink ambient lights, and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes makes it obvious she's just as invested in interrogating Maya as everyone else. “You're gonna have to be more specific.”
They're all eager, almost as if they made a silent deal to interrogate Maya the moment the right opportunity came. They all smile, some gently nudging each other while wiggling their eyebrows. You can't help but feel a little out of place, watching the girls naturally gang up on Maya as if they'd planned this interrogation long before getting into the limousine.
“Jungkook was his name, wasn't it?” Ada says, tapping a finger against her chin as her cousin, Aisha, gently nudges her foot with the tip of her heel.
“Don't act like you don't remember his name.”
A round of laughter erupts throughout the limousine as Ada shamelessly shrugs, almost as if to say “worth a shot”. A quiet laugh escapes you too, though the mention of Jungkook's name makes your crossed leg begin to bounce.
The limousine stops at a red light, almost as if giving Maya the perfect moment to answer while everyone eagerly waits for whatever reaction she'll give.
“And what about the Taehyung guy?” Imani asks, absentmindedly twirling one of her neat braids over her shoulder before deciding to give it a shot.
Maya laughs, her eyes briefly finding yours, just as amused by the effect your friends have on everyone. Even Jimin's name gets thrown into the mix, and you're a little taken aback by how quickly they've remembered all of their names. You still struggle to remember theirs. Then again, you're not interested in them that way, so maybe it makes sense.
“Shh–” Ada hushes the others, her eyes sparkling as she wiggles her brows. “Is he single?”
“Are all of them?” Zara practically pleads, rubbing her palms together, making you mentally snort. They have a good sense of humor, but beneath all the jokes, it's obvious they genuinely want to know.
“There's no way they all are.” Naomi scoffs, clearly refusing to believe it.
“Okay, let's do this one by one. Let's start with Jungkook.” Ada raises a hand, her long, perfectly curled lashes fluttering as she bats them at Maya.
Maya leans back with a sigh, though the smile never leaves her lips. “I think that's a question for Y/N.”
The moment the words leave Maya's mouth, silence settles over the limousine. Only her playlist quietly fills the background as the car begins moving again. Every pair of eyes lands on you, making you uncross your legs as you sit up straighter. You shoot her a quick look, silently wondering why the hell she'd put you on the spot.
You can practically see their minds racing as they jump to the conclusion that you and Jungkook are something more. Realization slowly spreads across their faces before they're suddenly looking anywhere but at you, almost embarrassed that they've spent the past few minutes openly thirsting over him without even considering the possibility that the two of you might be together.
It's ridiculous. That's what it is. The thought alone.
You can almost see them replaying every interaction from the bar, searching for anything that might've hinted at something between you and Jungkook. Maybe a stolen kiss while they weren't paying attention.
Little do they know, a quick kiss would've been the least of what had happened between you two.
Snorting softly, unable to hide the fact that you see right through them, you shrug.
“He's single.” The words leave your mouth, simple and truthful all at once.
“Y/N's his best friend, so she'd know. Actually, she's good friends with all of them.”
They stare at you as if you've suddenly grown a second head. Maya's words clearly don't register with them at first. They simply can't wrap their heads around how you're friends with them. Just... friends.
They try to hide it, but you catch the subtle sigh of relief that passes between them before a few giggles follow. At least now they know they haven't been openly thirsting over your boyfriend.
“Jimin's taken,” you explain. “And Taehyung... well, unless you're looking to get your heart broken, I wouldn't bother. Relationships aren't really his thing. He's more of a hook-up and call it a day kind of guy.”
“We're here!” Maya claps enthusiastically as the driver pulls into the parking lot. Loud bass echoes through the night, colorful lights illuminating the amusement park ahead.
“An amusement park?” you ask, your voice instantly brightening. “You should've told us before we had drinks.”
“It's just the start, baby.” Maya smirks, ushering all of you out as soon as the limousine comes to a stop near the entrance. The vehicle is too long to pull in any farther. The driver lets you know he'll stay nearby until you're ready to leave.
“We're not staying here?” you ask, assuming she'd just call the driver once it was time to head to the next stop.
“I told you, it's just the start,” Maya reminds you with an amused smile. “This is only a stop. We'll go on a few rides, then we're changing locations.”
“Now I understand why you didn't let us plan the party.” You shake your head with a smile as Maya hooks her arm through yours, happily leading everyone toward the amusement park. You do make one thing clear – you refuse to go on anything that turns you upside down and will happily guard everyone's bags instead.
You spend the next hour hopping from one ride to another, the employees kind enough to let you skip the line for almost every attraction. Even the people waiting don't seem to mind once they notice Maya's oversized BRIDE sash and all of your SINGLE tiaras.
You feel like a clown wearing yours at times. You almost forget it's sitting on your head until you catch a group of young men smirking and bowing dramatically in your direction from across the walkway. You roll your eyes while the girls burst into laughter, clearly loving every second of it.
Now you're left carrying everyone's bags, your hands growing heavier by the minute as you wonder if the girls packed actual bricks. While they're riding something far too extreme for your liking, you fish your phone out to kill some time. Ada volunteered to grab the two of you something to drink and is currently waiting at a nearby stand, chatting with one of the guys in line behind her.
As your screen lights up, the name Kook appears.
Embarrassingly, you unlock it a little too quickly.
Kook: Safe?
Instead of replying right away, you record a short video of the girls sitting at the top of the ride, waiting to be dropped. A second later, they plunge downward, their screams audible even over the pounding music.
You send it.
“video.mp4 I am.”
Locking your phone, you keep it in your hand while watching people laugh, scream, and stumble away from the ride with wobbly legs.
Barely a minute later, it vibrates again.
Kook: good choice on your part
Your fingers move before you can think.
“please, you would've been up there with them”
Kook: of course i would 😜
“what are you guys up to?”
Kook: nothing good tbh, went to an escape room
Kook: tae kept cheating, joon almost solved all the clues
“sounds like them”
Kook: who now
“actually both of them lol”
Kook: imagine.jpg
Opening it, you immediately spot Taehyung in the background, pouting dramatically with what looks like clue papers stuck to his forehead. Namjoon scratches his head in concentration while Jimin sits on a nearby chair looking completely baffled.
Then your eyes drift back to Jungkook.
He's grinning at the camera, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth as he throws up a shaka with one hand.
You can't help but smile.
“suddenly i'm happy with our party”
Kook: rude
Kook: how was the ride? joon mentioned he rented a limousine for y'all
“unpleasantly interrogating”
For a moment, you wonder whether you should tell him the truth. You probably will eventually anyway. Somehow, though, you want to keep the conversation going a little longer.
Kook: how so
“the girls had their eyes set on all of you”
Kook: wow really
“don't act surprised jeon”
Kook: 😜
“Come on, here.” A voice nearby catches your attention, making you glance toward the ride. You see the rest of the girls making their way down the steps. Maya has an arm wrapped around Zara's frame, who looks like she's about to be sick.
Locking your phone and slipping it back into your purse, you hurry over to them as Zara breathes heavily. You open your mouth to ask if she's okay, but before a single word comes out, Zara suddenly turns away and throws up onto the grass.
You grimace as the faint smell reaches your nose.
Maya doesn't look much better as she gently pats Zara's back, clearly regretting being the one who insisted on this particular ride. Thankfully, Zara only throws up the drinks she'd had earlier.
The other girls immediately gather around her, asking if she's okay. Just then, Ada returns with the drinks, stopping in her tracks at the sight in front of her. After a brief hesitation, she quietly hands you yours.
“Thanks,” you mumble, not entirely sure you're up for lemonade anymore. Still, you take a few careful sips, hoping the citrus scent will overpower the smell lingering in the air.
“Are you okay?” Maya asks gently, pulling a packet of tissues from her purse and handing it to Zara.
“Hell yeah.” Zara grins after wiping her mouth. “What's our next stop?”
Without waiting for an answer, she steals the lemonade straight from Ada's hands to rinse her mouth.
You stifle a laugh as Ada's face immediately falls into a pout. Offering her your untouched lemonade instead, you watch her happily accept it.
“That's what I'm talking about!” Maya cheers, throwing one hand into the air before pulling out her phone to call the driver and let him know you're ready to head to the next stop.
As you're all seated again, you somehow find yourself in the middle of a conversation about relationships. Ada talks about the toxic relationship she got out of and how she's been single for about a year now. She sounds almost unhappy about it, and as you quietly listen to the conversation, they all seem dissatisfied with being single.
You have no idea where the obsession with women having to be in a relationship comes from. It's as if their whole world revolves around whether they're single or not. You know there's a lot of influence from society and probably social media too.
Zara gulps down an entire bottle of water before asking the driver for a piece of gum. She confides in all of you that she was cheated on, something that really messed her up. It happened recently and, because of it, she doesn't want a relationship right now, though she's not completely opposed to one if it happens naturally.
The rest of the girls are single too, once again confessing how happy they are for Maya and her upcoming marriage, hoping they'll reach that stage of their lives someday.
It's somehow what all of you dream of – to find that one person you get to spend the rest of your life with.
Even you.
And that's saying something, considering Taehyung likes to call you the number one hater of men.
“What about you, Y/N? Are you single?” Imani asks, probably noticing you haven't really participated in the conversation. Then again, neither has Maya, but everyone already knows where she stands.
“Mmm... yeah.”
Maya sips her champagne, raising a brow when you shoot her a glare before shaking it off and offering the girls a smile.
“I was in a relationship,” you shrug, “it wasn't meant to be.”
“What's up with your friend group? Everyone's single.” Aisha laughs, not mockingly, but almost in disbelief. “Y'all are hot, and from what I can tell, you seem like an amazing woman.”
Not entirely sure what earned you such a big compliment, you smile at Aisha in gratitude, letting out a quiet laugh as the others nod in agreement.
“Aish, it's not like there's no interest in Y/N,” Maya snorts, carefully setting her champagne glass down just as the limousine rolls over a speed bump. “She just has a very particular taste in men.”
She wiggles her brows at you.
You snort at that, finding it a little amusing. Maybe Maya's had one glass of champagne too many because the girls suddenly look even more curious.
“Okay, now I'm even more curious.” Imani props her elbow on her knee and rests her chin in her palm, looking completely invested in finding out your type.
“Tall, tattooed, hot, willing to do anything for her, fucking amazing in bed–”
“Maya, let her talk!” Aisha laughs.
Shooting Maya another glare, knowing exactly who she just described, you simply shrug before offering the girls a sweet smile.
“Maya pretty much summed it up.”
“I mean... who doesn't love tall, tattooed, hot men? I sure as fuck do,” Ada comments, earning a chorus of nods and agreement from the others.
The conversation quickly shifts as everyone starts sharing their ideal type of man. Unlocking your phone, you check the time, wondering how much longer the drive will be.
From the corner of your eye, you catch Maya watching you, hiding a laugh behind her hand.
You simply shake your head and laugh to yourself before looking away.
You should've seen it coming.
“Hope you didn't think we wouldn't properly party,” Maya says, leaning over your shoulder from behind as you stare at the club in front of you. The party already seems to be in full swing, all of you arriving at the perfect time.
The girls squeal excitedly, ready to add a little more alcohol to their systems as you all head inside. The club isn't nearly as packed as you expected. Maya tells you they limit the number of people they let in, which is why it never feels overly crowded.
Even so, as you make your way down the stairs, you still have to squeeze through plenty of bodies to reach the main bar. People stare and whistle at your group – some cheering for the bride to be, others eyeing her single friends, yourself included.
You scoff when you catch one guy openly checking out Aisha's ass. Turning around to shoot him a nasty look, you realize his eyes immediately drift to yours just as shamelessly.
If this is what the rest of the night is going to look like, you're ripping this tiara off right in front of them.
And maybe you need that alcohol too.
Fortunately, once you've finished your drinks in record time, you make your way to the dance floor. People naturally form a circle around Maya, encouraging her to dance in the middle while they cheer her on. You join in, genuinely happy for her and soaking in the moment.
The night is amazing. Your feet already hurt, but you can't stop dancing.
At some point, Maya tugs you into the circle, doing the same with her friends as you dance away the rest of the song. By the time the next one starts playing, you're all laughing, slightly out of breath. As the circle slowly breaks apart, you're about to look for somewhere to sit down.
The moment you look up, it takes you a second to spot Namjoon. Maya lets out a loud squeal of surprise before throwing herself into her soon–to–be husband's arms.
“What are you doing here?” you hear her ask, though Namjoon's answer is muffled as your eyes drift toward the familiar group standing behind him.
They stop on one particular pair.
Amusement flickers across Jungkook's face as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You laugh, making your way toward him while, somewhere behind you, the girls erupt into another round of giggles and excited squeals at the guys' sudden appearance. Their chatter instantly picks back up.
Meanwhile, you're still trying to catch your breath, the back of your neck sticky with sweat. Jungkook, on the other hand, looks neat–not a single hair out of place. Of course he does. He's not the one who's been dancing the night away. While one of you managed to throw up and the rest of you danced yourselves half to death, they spent the evening playing an escape room. You can only hope you don't smell like sweat.
“You've got to be kidding me,” you say in utter disbelief as Jungkook's smile slowly spreads.
“See? The tiara's still holding up,” he says with amusement, lightly flicking the tiara perched on your head.
“Don't tempt me.”
He laughs at that.
“How long have you guys been here?” you ask, catching the knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
“You mean, did we see you girls dancing?” he teases. “Yeah... long enough to catch most of it.”
“Oh, don't act so smug.” You nudge him lightly in the chest, but before you can pull away, he catches your wrist, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your pulse.
“Any nice suitors?”
“If you don't count one guy staring at my ass the second we walked in here, then no.”
The sarcasm dripping from your voice makes Jungkook laugh.
You shoot him a glare, silently asking what exactly he finds so funny.
“Well, you do have a nice ass.”
Smiling up at him as if he'd just said the most romantic thing in the world, you muse, “You think so?”
He snorts in amusement, finally noticing the obvious glow in your eyes and the slight stumble in your stance that's not entirely caused by the heels you're wearing.
He knows that much.
“How much have you had to drink?”
You shrug, putting a little distance between the two of you.
“Apparently not enough.”
You've only had three drinks, but the third one was strong. Thanks to none other than Maya, who'd leaned across the bar to whisper something into the bartender's ear.
“You guys wanna grab a drink?”
Another presence appears beside you.
Not one, but two.
Aisha and Ada stop beside you, their eyes beaming at Jungkook as they practically look right through you.
“Oh, no.” Jungkook smiles politely. “I wouldn't want to intrude on your girls' night. We'll probably head to another club to celebrate.”
You find yourself a little annoyed by that. Just like the girls, who sigh in disappointment, clearly not ready to lose the chance to spend more time with him.
“Well...” You glance over your shoulder toward the dance floor. “Maya's already dancing with Namjoon. You might as well stay for a while.”
It comes out more like a suggestion than an invitation. One Jungkook would be rude to decline. Then again, knowing him, he'd somehow find the most respectful way to do it anyway. They'd be head over heels for him in no time.
Jungkook looks around, searching for the rest of the guys. He finds them not far away, already chatting with the rest of the girls from your group.
“Yeah,” he says. “I think I could stay for a while.”
They don't even try to hide their excitement as they quickly usher him toward the bar.
Looking behind you, you find the couple dancing slowly despite the fast, rhythmic music, simply holding onto each other.
You smile.
There's nothing else to do but follow everyone toward the bar and finally have that drink you so desperately claimed you needed.
For the next thirty minutes, you find yourself listening to the girls chatting with the boys. And no matter how hard Jungkook tries to pull you into the conversation, all that leaves your mouth are hums and short answers.
One minute you're approached by a guy who, at first glance, looks like he has his life together. That illusion disappears the second the smell of weed hits your nose and his drunken gaze spends more time staring at your cleavage than your eyes – which isn't even that impressive to begin with. Your dress is short, sure, but still perfectly decent.
As soon as he leaves, yet another guy you've turned down after asking you to dance, you rip the tiara off your head in annoyance.
Maya's too busy with Namjoon anyway, practically glued to him.
“Wow, what a coincidence, right?” she says after coming over for another glass of water. “Almost like it was meant to be.”
“None of them up to your unbelievable standards?” Jungkook leans toward you the one second the girls' attention isn't completely on him.
“If you think my standards are some junkie who can barely look me in the eyes instead of my tits, then you really think low of me.”
Jungkook snorts.
“Wow. Someone's snappy.”
“I'm not snappy!” you exclaim, leaning back in your seat as you stomp your foot beneath the table, making him raise a brow.
“What about your standards, hm? Do you see any girl you like?”
He simply stares at you with an amused grin, pursing his lips to one side.
“You mean any of Maya's friends?”
You shrug, mimicking the face he just made.
“For example.”
“Like them trying to get my attention?”
You chuckle.
“Of course you noticed.”
He smiles.
“Is that why you've been so snappy?”
You clench your jaw, shooting him a dirty look.
“I'm not snappy!” you hiss, nudging his leg beneath the table. Him sitting next to you is dangerous. So is the fact you have no idea which drink you're about to reach for next.
“Go have fun, Jungkook.”
“I am having fun.” He shrugs.
“Take one of them dancing. Trust me, they'd want nothing more than that. They couldn't stop gushing about you on the way to the amusement park and all the way here.”
“And what about you?” he asks, a teasing glint in his dark eyes as the arm resting along the back of the booth finds your hair. He absentmindedly twirls one of the strands around his finger.
Just like he still has you wrapped around his.
“Were you gushing about me?”
“Oh, please.” You scoff, placing your palm against his chest to nudge him once again. “Should I?”
He smiles.
“You could.”
“Go have fun, Jeon. I'm fine. I could just use some food.” You rub your stomach, feeling it filled with alcohol instead of anything solid. They do have crackers, chips – just something to snack on. But what you really crave is something greasy. Something filling. Something that could soak up at least a little of the alcohol.
“There's a kebab place around the corner,” he says. “Saw it on our way here.”
For a brief second, you eye him from the corner of your eye, suddenly interested in this kebab place.
Instead of giving in to the suggestion, you sigh.
“Go dance, Kook.”
“Well, I don't want to.” He leans back in the booth, looking annoyingly comfortable as you narrow your eyes at him.
He stares right back.
“I thought we made it pretty clear that you pushing me into things doesn't usually end well.”
Shit.
Well, you deserved that.
It's almost like Hawaii all over again. You don't take his words personally because they aren't meant to hurt, nor are they said that way. It's a gentle reminder delivered in the gentlest tone possible, even though there's a little sass behind it, just like Jungkook always manages.
“For your information,” you cross your arms, “it was a suggestion. Not a push.”
“Mhm, sure.” He hums, hiding his smile behind the rim of his beer.
A burst of laughter erupts somewhere at the table, both of you too caught up in your conversation to know what caused it.
“Wanna dance?”
She takes her chance, and thank God he doesn't think you had anything to do with this.
The two of you look at her, even though the question was clearly directed at Jungkook.
He glances back at you, and now you're the one hiding a smirk, shrugging.
You know he's too polite to decline.
“You're a great dancer, Kook. Show Aisha your moves,” you tease, catching the way he runs his tongue over his bottom lip before holding your gaze for a few seconds.
He chuckles, shaking his head before turning to the hopeful Aisha.
Bless her confidence, though.
“Sure,” he says.
You stand, giving them enough room to do the same. As Jungkook gets to his feet, he brushes past you, a little closer than necessary, and you catch the familiar scent of his cologne.
He waits for Aisha to slide out of the booth before the two of them disappear onto the dance floor.
Thank God you don't have to watch that.
Looking back toward the table, you find Taehyung already watching you, his lips pursed as he slowly gives you a thumbs-down.
Rolling your eyes, you silently tell him to fuck off.
“Y/N, my friend! Let's dance!” Taehyung calls out far louder than necessary, making sure everyone at the table hears him.
You catch Maya's friends watching in disappointment, and, strangely enough, you do feel a little bad for them.
“I don't want to dance.”
“Yes, you do,” he says, already on his feet as he grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the booth.
You start whining all the way to the dance floor.
One of Pitbull's songs starts blasting through the speakers, one you've danced and screamed the lyrics to together more times than you can count.
Before long, you're laughing, slowly getting into it despite complaining that your feet hurt.
“I'm hungry!” you whine, still wrapping your arms around Taehyung's neck as his hands settle on your hips.
He rolls his hips perfectly, the dance close but still respectful.
You're not sure Maya's friends see it that way, judging by the looks they exchange.
But who cares?
People already think you fucked Jungkook – which isn't exactly false. Only the tense is different.
What's one more misunderstanding?
You and Taehyung dance through the rest of the song, laughing and singing until it fades into the next track.
Just as the two of you decide you need a break, Jungkook walks past with Aisha close behind him, looking even more smitten than she did back at the table.
“Having fun?” he asks, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
“She's hungry,” Taehyung chimes in, brushing past your shoulder and leaving you alone with Jungkook.
Aisha pauses for a second, but Taehyung says something to her that makes her smile before she follows him back toward the table.
“Come on,” Jungkook says. “Let's go eat.”
You let out a small laugh.
“What?”
“You're hungry.”
“I know. I can deal with it. Go have fun.”
“Y/N.” Jungkook frowns.
“Jungkook,” you reply in the exact same tone.
“I can take care of myself,” you remind him, chiming in.
He glances to either side before lifting both hands in a small shrug.
“I never said you couldn't,” he points out. “Now don't be difficult. Let's go.”
With that, he turns on his heel, leaving you standing there in disbelief for a few seconds before you hurry after him, just in time to hear him asking if anyone else wants food or feels like joining you.
The girls have already disappeared back onto the dance floor. Only Zara and Ada stay behind, deciding they'll just order something from the club instead. The guys aren't hungry, Jungkook informing you they'd grabbed something to eat before heading to the escape room.
The moment you step outside, the fresh night air hits your face, making you instinctively take a deep breath. You ask him how the escape room went, learning they all ended up in the same group and already agreed they'd have to come back someday and split into two teams instead, especially since the place offered a competitive mode. It wouldn't be Jungkook if he didn't enjoy a little competition.
In return, you tell him about the amusement park, briefly mentioning Zara throwing up after one of the rides and how the employees let all of you skip most of the lines thanks to Maya's BRIDE sash. Before long, you've already reached the kebab place tucked just around the corner. You order your food and barely wait a minute before taking your first bite.
It's always the first bite that's the best, a satisfied moan slipping from your lips. Deciding to eat outside, the two of you step back onto the sidewalk, both of you knowing eating a kebab can get messy. Jungkook doesn't mind the fresh air after spending most of the evening indoors. While you happily eat, leaning against the brick wall of the building, he slowly paces up and down the sidewalk, watching the street that's still alive despite the late hour.
Once you've had enough bites to satisfy your hunger, your eyes naturally drift toward him. He looks like he stepped straight out of a magazine. One look at you and anyone could tell you've been celebrating something – your hair is a little messy, your makeup no longer as fresh, your face hot from dancing. Jungkook, meanwhile, somehow still looks effortlessly put together.
“You have a nice ass too,” you comment, wiping the corner of your mouth. Jungkook comes to an abrupt stop, his eyes meeting yours before a laugh finally escapes him.
“Where is this coming from?”
You shrug before handing him the rest of your kebab. There's nothing left but meat anyway. It always ends up at the bottom, and you've always preferred the vegetables and all the dressing. Jungkook knows exactly what that means, taking a generous bite without hesitation. Even though he decided not to order one himself, you know this man could probably eat enough for an entire village.
“Just giving back a compliment.”
He watches you as he swallows, a chuckle escaping him. “Is that all it is?”
A cool breeze briefly ruffles his hair, the black satin shirt shifting with it and exposing just a little more of his chest. One hand still holds the kebab, veins standing out across the back of it.
“God.”
The word slips out before you can stop it, immediately pulling you out of your own thoughts as you're met with a pair of thoroughly amused eyes.
“I forgot you get horny when you're drunk.”
You gape at him in offense, frowning. “I'm not drunk,” you point out. “And I'm not horny.”
“Okay,” he hums. “It's just one of your stages.”
“Shut up,” you scold, trying to hide your laugh as he laughs too. See? You can joke about it. It's still a thin line, maybe a little too soon for jokes like that, but somehow it feels normal. Maybe because only the two of you know exactly why he said it.
Jungkook finishes the last bite of your kebab in no time before tilting his head toward the way you came. “Ready to head back?”
You nod, falling into step beside him as the conversation naturally picks back up. And you're happy because you finally get to talk to him. Just the two of you, talking about everything and nothing at all. Maybe, just maybe, you're a little disappointed by how short the walk back is.
a/n: happy birthday to that one reader, you know who you are! thank you for your continued support and love throughout this story ♡
a special thank you to every reader who has purchased early access or simply supported me through ko-fi. your support genuinely means more than you know. thanks to you, I'm still able to make room in my life for writing and continue doing something I love in my free time. every purchase and donation helps me keep that time for MH instead of having to take on a side job and I'm incredibly grateful for that.
Thank you for allowing me to keep creating and, most importantly, thank you for being here and reading.
If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡
Synopsis: Two married neighbours , and a forbidden craving that's about to cross the lines. You're married to Henry, who's always away. Jungkook is married to sophie who loves her city nightlife more. It started during a stormy midnight text exchange breaks the ice. And you both ended up cheating on your partners.
Pairing: Neighbour(married) JK × Neighbour (married) You.
Genre: Neighbour, Cheating on partners, sexting, smut.
( 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ── 𝓢𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ) 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. ˖Ი𐑼⋆ sfw +++ angst. the one where your ex-husband is forced to sit back and watch your new life unfold from the outside, wishing he was still the one receiving your sweet smile. cw: divorced couple!au, ex-husband!jungkook, co-parenting, slow burn, one-sided pinning, second chance romance. wc: 1.7k ( snippet of episode one )
𝓢𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 SERIES MASTERLIST ╱ EPISODE ONE
“you are twenty minutes late.”
as the black jeep suv pulled into the gas station parking lot, your posture was strictly business: oversized sunglasses resting on the bridge of your nose, arms folded tightly over your chest. JEONGGUK stepped out of his car, throwing a charming smile your way, the one he used to give you when he wanted to bypass an argument, as he rounded the hood. he looked frustratingly good in a plain white tee and baggy dark denim, his hair slightly rumpled in that effortless way that used to make your heart beat like crazy years ago.
"we stopped to eat kfc," leaning his hip against his driver’s door like he had all the time in the world.
"jeongguk, he is not allowed to eat kfc after football practice," the edge in your voice sharper than broken glass, because here we go again with breaking things such as trust and rules. "it ruins his recovery, and you know his coach specifically gave us a dietary plan."
"sue me, the kid was hungry," he drawled, holding up his hands in fake defense before resting them on his hips. his eyes scanned your face, and that made your stomach turn. "so anyway... how are 'ya?"
"don't start." because if you talk to him, you have to look at him, and if you look at him too long, the ghost of that day will bleed over the asphalt.
the back door clicked open, and jungmin stepped out, covered in grass stains, and carrying the exact copy of his father’s boba eyes. he was clutching jeongguk's phone, completely absorbed in a youtube video showcasing real madrid’s prime players, then handed the device back to him without even breaking his gaze from the screen until it locked.
the moment your eyes landed on your son, the icy wall around you melted into an eternal sunshine.
"hi, sweetie," you cooed, voice changing into that sweet, caring motherly tone as you stepped forward, leaning down to smooth back his sweaty bangs. "did you have fun with your friends at practice?"
"yeah," jungmin sighed, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand. he was the absolute pride and joy of your life — the best thing to come out of a ruined marriage. he bore his father's last name and inherited his terrifying natural athletic talent. however, when given the choice, the boy always preferred staying in with you. he spent fridays to sundays with jeongguk, sometimes longer if he asked, because as much as you despised the man standing across... your ex wasn't a shitty father, just a terrible husband.
jungmin looked between the two of you, catching the suffocating tension hanging in the air. it was a well-learned pattern by now. every single handoff felt like two vikings fighting over a big piece of territory, while he just tried to survive the crossfire.
"can we go home now?" your son muttered, dragging his duffel bag along the ground. "i have homework to do for tomorrow, and i wanna lie down. being the mvp is exhausting."
you laughed softly, kissing the top of his head. "of course, baby. get in the car.”
he pulled open your car door, slid into the backseat, and immediately whipped out his own phone to resume watching football tutorials, tuning out the adults as he prepared to become one with his bed later. with him sitting there, the warmth drained from your face. you grabbed his heavy equipment bag and walked toward the trunk. jeongguk didn't move. he just stood there against his car with his crossed over his chest, his eyes trailing your every move.
"well, you look great.”
"shut up.”
he just chuckled, completely unfazed by the bite in your tone. stepping closer under the guise of helping, though his eyes casually peeked into your open trunk. his laughter died the second his gaze landed on a sleek golf bag tucked neatly in the back.
he paused, his eyebrows pulling together. "whose golf sticks are these?"
"mine," you answered, tossing jungmin’s bag right next to them. "what now? i can't have a hobby?"
jeongguk raised a skeptical eyebrow, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. "you hate golf. you used to call it an overpriced excuse for rich men to day-drink in ugly pants."
the memory appeared; since before everything shattered, he had tried to get you to play with him once. you had kissed his cheek and called it the stupidest sport on earth. closing the trunk door hard, turning to face him with your sunglasses resting on top of your head.
"okay, fine," you said, turning around to face him with a fake smile, "i'm seeing someone. these are his. happy?"
the smug curve of his mouth flattened into a tight line, and for a split second, the panic in his eyes was so visible it almost made you pause. since he wanted to know so badly, now he knows. and it’s no lie that you’re seeing someone. two years older than you, he’s divorced too, has no kids, and is so kind and sweet. plus, he is really good-looking. a bit quirky personality, but in a good way. he works in photography, specifically in the fashion industry, mainly for magazines, and he even gave you a céline purse, saying it’s not a big deal because he’s very good friends with the ceo.
"oh," jeongguk swallowed hard, his throat working as he tried to keep his voice steady. "i, uh– didn't realize that."
"it's actually none of your business," you said, resting a hand on your hip as you took in the sight of him spiraling. and god, did it feel satisfying to watch him bleed a little.
five years ago, jeongguk had been a master of emotional absence. he didn't cheat — he was loyal and faithful to his absolute core, a man who would never touch another woman while carrying your ring. he had performed every daily duty with a polite smile, posed for family photos, set the dinner table, but his heart had quietly packed its bags and left the building months before his body did.
you had felt the cold void where his affection used to burn, and it made you feel completely foolish and discarded. then came the day he sat you down, a tuesday afternoon, while your four-year-old son was at kindergarten, and looked you dead in the eye and broke you into pieces.
"(name), look... i- i don't love you anymore, and i haven't for a long time," he had said, his voice entirely devoid of anger or any emotion, which only made it a hundred times worse. "nothing bad happened. you didn't do anything wrong. i just don't want this life with you."
no fighting or him raising his voice, just a polite execution of your marriage.
don't want this life? you had screamed internally, tears burning your throat as you stood in your empty kitchen. you don't want a happy wife? you don't want the family you begged for? you're the one who wanted this life more than anything!
you had begged him to tell you if there was someone else. it was easier to process an affair than the horrifying reality that he had simply grown tired of you. he swore there wasn't, but you hadn't believed him. because a loyal man like him doesn't just wake up and quit unless his heart is somewhere else, but he had just shaken his head, looking at you with pity. “there’s no one else, i am not that kind of a man. i have been feeling out of place for the past year. i’m just done.”
the very next morning, you hired a divorce lawyer to cut the cord before he could humiliate you any further. you couldn't stand the sight of him, couldn't breathe the same air, couldn't bear watching him act like a ghost in your home. it resulted in turning every ounce of your soft heartbreak into an impenetrable wall of pure spite.
it took him three full years after the papers were signed to realize what a fool he had been. he hadn't fallen out of love. that is complete nonsense, and if he could go back in time and change it, he would. but even the strongest one panics under the weight of adulthood, confusing routine for stagnation, and throwing away the absolute center of his universe. by the time his senses returned, you had built a fortress around your heart.
and now, standing in the hot afternoon air, jeongguk was choking on his own regret.
"seeing someone?" the tattooed man repeated, his voice losing every trace of its earlier flirtatious edge. his eyes were pinned to yours, searching for a sign that you were lying. "who?"
"just someone," you replied, dropping the information like a bomb. "and he actually knows how to communicate and express his emotions on time, rather than keeping it for a whole year."
jeongguk’s jaw clenched so hard that his hands balled into tight fists inside his pockets. the thought of another man who got to touch you and see the warm smile you reserved strictly for jungmin now was visibly eating him alive.
"ah, then… i’m happy for you."
“thank you,” taking a step backward toward your driver's side door. "so if you're quite done interrogating me about my personal life, i'm going home."
he took a step forward, his tall frame looming over you, and for a second, his guard dropped, leaving nothing but pathetic longing in his eyes. he’s the one who let you go, so why does he react this way? why does he feel so uncomfortable at the thought of someone else taking his place?
"but you don't love him," his voice cracking just a tiny bit as he searched your face. "you're just doing this to spite me."
you stopped, turning your head to look up at him. behind your dark sunglasses, your eyes were as cold as ice.
"even if i am," you whispered, leaning in just enough so only he could hear, "it's still a hundred times better than being with a man who checked out years ago. see you next friday and drive safe, jeongguk "
you pulled open your car door, slid into the driver's seat, and slammed it shut, leaving jeongguk standing alone in the parking lot, staring at his own reflection in your tinted windows, consumed by the consequences of his own actions.
Genre: boss x employee, romance, comedy, suggestive theme, workplace romance
Warning: NSFW, mdi!!
Word count: 2k | one-shot
check out my: masterlist
a/n: thank you for 3k followers!! this was one of the submissions someone sent in + i wrote this based on this request as well! i've never written boss x employee so this was exciting to write 😗🤍 prepare yourself to experience secondhand embarrassment and never use your work main communication software for anything other than work‼️‼️
You always thought Tuesday was the worst day of the week and unfortunately for you, today was a Tuesday.
You were sitting at your desk with your coworkers sitting beside you, who were doing their work while you stared into the abyss, feeling completely done with your life, as your powerpoint stared back at you.
You were asked to analyse some data for a client, which normally wouldn’t have been an issue as it’s a job you’ve excelled in for the past two years. But this project was an exception because the client still hasn’t given you any of the information you needed and for the past weeks, you’ve emailed them, messaged them, called them, and when none of that worked, you even went to their office yourself, three times at that. The only thing they told you was, “We’ll email everything to you before the due date.”
The due date was tomorrow and you still had nothing. And today you were supposed to show the Director of Insights, Mr. Jeon, what he would be presenting to the client tomorrow. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Jeon is also the toughest director to impress in the entire company.
You groaned thinking about what you will have to deal with. This series of misfortunes ought to stop today.
You pushed your chair backwards, grabbed your phone, stood up, and started walking towards the bathroom. Once you were inside, you went into one of the stalls, locked the door behind you and lowered the toilet lid before sitting down on it.
You checked your phone and immediately saw that you had a new Teams message from Yoongi. Yoongi worked in a different division of the company from you. You actually met him at a bar three months ago, and somehow the one night you spent together turned into another, then another, until the two of you now are in a so-called situationship. There were no feelings or attachment involved but it was exactly what the two of you wanted; a lot of fun and a lot of sex.
You opened his message.
Yoongi: So did you take pictures in the new lingerie?
You chuckled at his message before sending your reply.
You: yes.
Yoongi: and where are they?
You: if i send them now won’t you spend the rest of the day distracted at work?
Yoongi: i badly want to be distracted.
You: you’ll get hard
Yoongi: baby, you’re such a tease. i just can’t wait to fuck you.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile forming on your face as you opened your photo gallery. You took three pictures the night before wearing the rose-pink suspenders with floral embroidery with a matching bra and thong set that you knew Yoongi had been waiting to see ever since you mentioned purchasing them.
You selected all three pictures, and were about to choose the recipient. but just as you were about to send them, another Teams notification showed up at the top of your screen.
Mr. Jeon: Send me the deck now and come to my office in five.
Your smile disappeared immediately, “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.
You quickly hit send on the photos, opened your files folder and immediately sent it before locking your phone and standing up. Before leaving the bathroom, you took a glance at the mirror and gave yourself a small pep talk, “You’ll be fine!”
As you walked to Mr. Jeon’s office, your phone vibrated three times inside your pocket. You didn’t bother checking because you assumed it was Yoongi reacting to the pictures you just sent him, messaging you to tell you he couldn’t wait to fuck you later.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook was reviewing documents his assistant sent him when he heard the Teams notification. He saw your name appear on the top right hand side of the monitor, and clicked on the message, expecting to find the deck he asked you to send.
But what he saw was clearly not the deck.
For a few seconds, Jungkook genuinely thought he opened the wrong conversation. But Jungkook was single and he didn’t have a partner who would share these type of pictures to him. He looked at your name again, then back at the pictures on his screen, only to realise that you definitely sent these intimate pictures of you in your lingerie to him.
They were clearly never meant for his eyes, but Jungkook still found himself staring longer than he should have. So this is what you looked like underneath all the clothes, he thought to himself.
“Fuck,” he muttered quietly.
Your nipples were visible in the see-through lingerie and they were staring right at him. Or he was staring right at them, he couldn’t tell the difference. All Jungkook knew was your beautiful tits would fit perfectly in his hands.
Fuck.
Jungkook could feel his cock getting hard at the sight of you in your lingerie.
Fuck.
He looked from one picture to another, studying your body closely as if there would come a time where your body would be right under his and his hands would be roaming all over your body, pinching your nipples and spanking your plumpy ass.
Fuck.
Was this not sexual harassment?
Jungkook always noticed that you were pretty, but he never thought about you as anything other than one of the analysts working under him. Now all he could think about is your body under his with your matching rose-pink lingerie.
Fuck.
Jungkook really tried his best to look away, but you looked so fucking sexy. He wondered what it would be like to eat you out, wondered what you taste like, what you would sound like moaning his name.
Fuck.
Jungkook’s cock was now so hard he had to adjust himself in his seat.
His eyes were still glued to the screen, the pictures of you were now imprinted in his mind. Just as Jungkook was about to message you, there was a knock on his office door.
“Mr. Jeon?" he heard your voice from the other side of the door, “Can I come in?”
Jungkook cleared his throat and took a deep breath before answering, “Come in.”
You opened the door and walked towards his desk. Mr. Jeon Jungkook was dressed in a full suit and his glasses resting on his nose. The whole walk to his office, you were preparing yourself to get fired. Now that you were standing in front of his desk, you bowed your head slightly and immediately apologised, “Mr. Jeon, I’m so sorry. I know I’ll be fired for this.”
Jungkook looked up from his monitor and realised you must have noticed you sent the wrong messages to him. Jungkook didn’t say anything back to you as he wanted to hear what your explanation was, but his eyes were going back and forth from the picture of you in your lingerie to the fully clothed you standing in front of him. He wanted so badly to close the blinds in his office and eat you out right there and then.
Fuck.
Jungkook, you perverted bastard, he thought to himself.
“I’ve tried everything to contact the client, but they just haven’t replied. I emailed them, called them, followed up multiple times, and I even went to their office. They told me they would send everything before tomorrow, but I still haven’t received anything,” you were playing with your fingers nervously before continuing, “the deck I sent you is incomplete because I don’t have the full picture of their data. I understand if you want to fire me.”
Jungkook now realised that you had absolutely no idea what you just sent him. You were apologising for a completely different matter.
You stood there waiting for him to respond, but Mr. Jeon was now looking back at his computer screen, which convinced you further that this was probably going to be your final day at the company. Your entire life was about to change because some client couldn’t do their job. And you were damned because job hunting is difficult nowadays.
You were just beginning to imagine yourself filling out job applications for the next three months when Mr. Jeon slowly removed his glasses.
You immediately started sweating because everyone in the office knew that Mr. Jeon removing his glasses was some kind of habit he does before getting into any serious conversation.
“____,” he finally said with his glasses in his hand.
“Yes, sir?”
“I did not receive the document,” he answered.
“Oh,” you replied, “I’m sure I sent it to you, sir.”
“You sent me something,” Jungkook replied, choosing his words carefully, “but it definitely wasn’t the presentation.”
You frowned, unsure of what this attachment sent to him was, “Then what did I send?”
Jungkook chuckled before leaning back slightly in his chair, his cock still hard against his pants, “Something completely different and considerably more interesting than the deck.”
“Huh?” you stared at him in confusion before slowly reaching for your phone, “what do you mean, sir?”
The first thing you saw when your phone screen lit up on your hand was three messages from Yoongi.
Yoongi: is this the deck for that client you were complaining about?
Yoongi: ugh just send me the pics.
Yoongi: you’re too good at teasing me.
You died then.
Or at least you wished you had died right there and then. You couldn’t believe that you sent Yoongi the deck instead, and you started wondering who received the…
No, you thought to yourself.
NO FUCKING WAY.
You quickly opened Teams and clicked on your conversation with Mr. Jeon and there they were. All three pictures were sent directly under Mr. Jeon’s last message asking you to send him tomorrow’s deck.
You stared at your phone in complete silence as the worst nightmare you could possibly imagine unfolded right in front of you. You somehow sent pictures of yourself in lingerie meant for the guy you were sleeping with, to your boss.
You were utterly and completely fucked. You were fucked from every fucking angle and every fucking hole. You were fucked and fucked some more. You will never ever find another job, or work in this industry ever again.
You were fucking done for.
Jungkook remained silent as you looked between your phone and him, your face becoming more and more red with every passing second. Would your face be this red with his cock inside you? Jungkook quickly shook his head. he needed to stop thinking about fucking you, but you looked too fucking sexy in your lingerie.
“I’m so sorry,” you finally said, lowering yourself beside the chair in front of his desk, kneeling in front of Mr. Jeon and lowering your head, staring at the grey carpet in his office, “Please, sir. I didn’t mean to send those to you. It was a mistake.”
“I assumed that,” Jungkook replied.
You squeezed your eyes shut, pleading to your boss, “Please don’t fire me.”
Jungkook stared at you for a moment before glancing back towards his computer where your pictures were still open, “I’m not firing you.”
You slowly lifted your head to look at him, “You’re not?”
“No, but the next time you send an attachment, check what you’re sending first,” Jungkook said. He didn’t know where he get his courage from to tease his own employee, but he couldn’t help it. The more you speak, the more your lips parted for you to speak, the more he imagined them wrapped around his cock.
Jungkook cleared his throat again, trying to compose himself before finally saying, “Just send me the deck. I already know the problem with the client. Send me whatever you have on their business and I’ll do the rest. You’ve handled it well, so don’t worry about getting fired for something that’s clearly not your fault.”
“Yes, sir,” you answered as you slowly stood up, “should I go back to my desk now?”
You couldn’t and didn’t want to be in the room any longer. You were embarrassed. You didn’t want to do anything else other than die. You wanted to bury yourself six feet under and never come up.
All this time you thought you knew what embarrassment felt like, well, sike. You knew nothing of the emotion.
“That might be a good idea,” Jungkook said. He wanted you out of his office immediately even when there was an elephant in the room that he, as your boss, should probably address. But Jungkook needed time alone and he badly needed to take a cold shower.
You turned towards the door, but before you could leave, Mr. Jeon called your name again. You slowly looked back, bracing yourself for what’s about to happen, “Yes?”
“Do send me the deck,” he said.
You nodded at him and left his office as quickly as you possibly could. You even ran to your desk, making all heads turn to you. You ignored all of your coworkers' questions, opened your email and carefully selected the presentation file. Before sending it, you checked the file, opened the attachment, checked every slide, closed it, reopened it and checked it again.
Your coworker watched you doing the same thing for the fifth time, “Are you okay?”
You pressed send and immediately buried your face in your hands, “I just want to die.”
Across the office, Jungkook received another Teams notification and saw your name appear on his screen again. This time, it was an actual pptx file and the presentation was incomplete, exactly as you warned him, but the client meeting tomorrow was no longer the thing Jungkook was concentrating on.
Mr. Jeon: The deck is fine. I’ll work around the missing data.
You: thank you sir. and again, i’m really sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to send it to you, sir.
You regretted sending it almost immediately, why did you bring it up again? though what was even more nervewrecking was Jungkook didn’t reply to your message straight away.
Mr. Jeon: You should stop apologising.
You: sir, i literally accidentally sent you lingerie pictures.
Mr. Jeon: Oh, I’m very aware.
You: okay… then we can pretend it never happened.
Jungkook didn’t respond immediately, but you knew he already read it. You waited, one minute passed, then five, and you figured the conversation was over. So you reached for your mouse to close the Teams app when you heard the notification sound.
Mr. Jeon: That might be difficult.
Fuck, you thought.
Of course it would be difficult. What kind of person forgets something that mortifying so easily? He was probably sitting in his office cringing in your behalf, experiencing secondhand embarrassment so severe he is considering removing you from his team.
You: difficult?
Mr. Jeon: Yes.
He definitely meant it would be difficult for him to forget. It was probably humiliating for him too, especially that it happened at work from someone who worked directly under him.
You buried your face in the desk when you heard another notification come through.
Mr. Jeon: I probably shouldn’t say this, but I can’t help it and it’s only fair after what you have done to me.
Mr. Jeon: You looked so sexy in it, _____. I don’t think I’ll be able to forget what I saw.
Mr. Jeon: Next time you buy something like that, I’d prefer it if it wasn’t sent as an accident.
For a few seconds, you just stared at the screen because there was absolutely no way in hell that you read his messages correctly. So you read it again and again, and again. He actually said next time as if there was a possibility of seeing you like that again.
This was Mr. Jeon Jungkook, your boss.
The same man who is so professional he rarely, almost never, joins to team outings. The same man who is so insanely professional that no one knows what kind of person he is outside of work.
And this same man, Jeon Jungkook, is basically telling you that not only did he like what he saw, but he wouldn’t exactly object to seeing it again.
The worst part is, instead of making you want to disappear forever, the thought of sending him pictures of yourself in lingeries sent a thrill throughout your body.
in which jungkook fucks you in his home gym whilst taehyung is in the shower.
| PAIRING | : dom!jk x fem!reader
| GENRE | : pure, filthy smut inspired by tae’s insta post
| WARNINGS | : 18+, explicit smut, explicit language, sex against a mirror, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum play, protected sex, light choking, some degrading, jk has his hand over reader’s mouth most of the time, bending over, dirty talk, rough sex, kissing, mentions of masturbation
| WC | : 2.3k
| FROM ME | : i love tatted, big chested, muscly, THIIIICCCC shirtless jk.
19:52 - jungkook: come over?
of course, you were already on your way. jungkook loved to text you that randomly throughout the day whenever he felt like seeing you, no matter the hour or whether he knew you were busy. and every time, you’d show up. because jungkook was irresistible, intoxicating - and he had no doubt about it.
you didn’t really know what pin to put on your relationship with jungkook, you weren’t exactly dating. he called, you came. you called, he came. it was easier like that, less complicated.
trying to be serious with jungkook was practically impossible anyways. he was spoiled, incredibly wealthy (thanks to his parents), impatient, and overly bratty.
he lived in a massive penthouse, spent his days gaming or working out in his home gym with his equally wealthy friends, and went out to clubs or parties at night.
here you were, walking into his penthouse wearing leggings and an oversized hoodie - your post work outfit. you suspected he’d be in his gym, but you soon realised he wasn’t alone. nope, you heard laughing and talking - taehyung.
kim taehyung was one of jungkook’s other rich friends, he was around often enough for you to know he was three things: idiotic, childish, but also ridiculously good looking.
you rolled your eyes, what was he doing here? you always hated encountering his friends, it just made everything more awkward.
walking into the gym, you spot jungkook mid workout - shirtless, his shorts hanging low, sweat dripping down his abs, black calvin klein boxers peaking out. his arms are pumped, the veins bulging out. you then see taehyung, sprawled on a bench nearby, scrolling his phone.
jungkook instantly spots you in the mirror, his eyes darkening. "you came." the sweat sheening over his skin makes the ink of his tattoos pop - you drag your eyes down his sleeve, across his shoulder blades, over his ribs. every muscle is flexed, defined, hard. he catches you staring at him in the mirror, a knowing smirk touches his lips. he curls the dumbbell one last time, veins exploding in his forearm, before dropping it.
taehyung gets up from the bench and walks past you. "hey, sunshine." he smiles, tapping your shoulder on his way out. "i'm gonna hit the shower, see you."
as soon as the door clicks shut, the entire vibe shifts. the gym falls silent, echoing with the sound of your breathing. jungkook drops the weight, spinning around to face you. "c'mere."
you go over to him, he immediately pulls you onto his lap - already hard. “hey. i thought it was only you? taehyung is here.”
jungkook grinds up against you as soon as you’re sat, his hardness presses insistently between your thighs. his arms lock around your waist, pulling you flush against his sweaty chest. his lips begin to trail your neck. "he's in the shower." he murmurs. “won't hear a thing." he nips at your ear. “you said you were coming over."
you sigh, leaning into it. “yeah, but i thought you were alone.”
he pulls back slightly, eyes searching yours, jaw clenching. "i was alone. tae showed up unannounced thirty minutes ago to work out." his hands squeeze your hips. "i told him to leave, he wouldn't." he rocks you forward again - it’s subtle, desperate. his cock twitches against you through your thin leggings. "i can't wait anymore, i need you." his forehead drops to yours. “please.”
uncertainty fills your tone. “he’s still here, though.”
jungkook rolls his eyes, pulling you closer until your nose presses against his. his chest is hot, the muscles trembling slightly - the afterburn of his workout mixing with arousal. “he's in the bathroom, the shower’s running." his thumb gently rubs your hip bone. “we have time, y/n. quick." his lips brush yours, barely a kiss.
you pull away slightly. you don’t really want to have sex whilst taehyung is here, able to come in at any moment. it’d be so embarrassing, you might die on the spot. “but what if he comes back?”
“then he'll see." jungkook counters, his hand sliding up your thigh, under your hoodie. his touch is possessive. "he already knows i like you, thinks we're fucking anyway." the admission hangs heavy. you frown at that, but jungkook doesn’t care, his fingers find the waistband of your leggings. he doesn't wait, he slips two inside to find you wet. "see?"
“oh.” you moan softly, trying to focus on his touch instead of the thought of taehyung. it echoes slightly in the empty, mirror-lined room, the weights clink in the silence. jungkook's eyes lock onto yours in the reflection. he watches your face - lips parted, eyes fluttering as he starts to rub slow circles against your clit.
"look at us." he commands, his voice low and rough. “in every mirror. you’re so fucking pretty like this."
you look up, meeting the reflection of yourself - flushed, mouth open, breathing heavily - you can’t help but feel a little shy projected on the mirror like this. jungkook obviously notices. "don't hide." he murmurs, feeling you bury your face in his neck. he hooks his chin on your shoulder, forcing you to look at the reflection.
"watch." his fingers press deeper, faster. you see your legs spread over his massive thighs, his tattoos flexing as he works you. "see how pretty you look?" he whispers, biting your earlobe.
jungkook doubles his pace, circles becoming rapid, flicking across your clit with punishing precision. your body arches, your reflection shows your head falling back, eyes rolling. “that's it." he watches you crumble in the mirror. your thighs gripping his waist, your orgasm hitting hard. “look at yourself."
your thighs already start to shake, you whimper. “oh, fuck—“ jungkook covers your mouth with his free hand, still working you through the aftershocks, his lips curl against your ear.
"shhh." he breathes, amusement thick in his voice. "moaning like that...tae's gonna walk in and see you falling apart on my lap." his fingers slow, now lazily stroking, overstimulating. "what would he think?"
you’re too consumed with pleasure to reply, jungkook smiles. "you're supposed to be the quiet one, aren't you?" he teases lowly, feeling your pussy flutter around his fingers. "he'd never guess you make noises like that, like a little sex addict." he chuckles. "should i tell him?"
you roll your eyes. “fuck off.” but it’s muffled by his hand over your mouth.
jungkook laughs, his chest vibrating. "fuck off?" he removes his hand from your mouth. "you just came on my fingers and that's what you say? i think someone’s a little ungrateful." he pulls his hand out of your leggings and brings his fingers to his mouth to taste you, then hums “sweet.”
you keep looking around at the mirrors, they almost intrigue you a little. jungkook watches you in the reflection. your swollen lips, the flush creeping down your neck. your eyes - half lidded, dazed, yet locked on the sight of you. him now behind you, fingers slick with you. “it's hot, isn't it?" he murmurs. "seeing yourself like this. knowing anyone could walk in and see what i do to you. anyone able to see how good you are for me."
you bite your lip and nod, it is. jungkook suddenly pulls your leggings and panties down to your knees in one swift motion, the air hits your wet core. you gasp, thighs trying to close, but he spreads them wider. "you're so exposed." he breathes, admiring you from behind. "legs shaking, cunt glistening. all that pretty pink swollen from my fingers."
you whimper as he pushes you against the cold mirror. your hands slam flat, fingers splaying. he lifts your top half up, pushing your hoodie and bra up to expose your back. jungkook’s large hands grip your hips roughly, positioning you exactly how he wants you.
the sound of tearing foil blesses your ears next. your reflection watches him pull out a black wrapper - always black and expensive, never boring. he rolls it on with one hand, not breaking eye contact with you in the mirror as his veiny cock slicks into the latex. thick, heavy, already leaking pre-cum. "stay still." he commands, positioning himself behind you.
jungkook grips your hips, fingers digging deep into your soft skin, and lines himself up. “look in the mirror, pretty." he demands roughly. "watch me take you the way you fucking deserve." without warning, he pushes inside. one deep, thrust that buries him to the hilt. you gasp loud, palms slipping against the glass.
"quiet." he grits out. jungkook knows you like it rough, he doesn’t hesitate to give you that. when another loud moan escapes you, his hand clamps over your mouth again, silencing you. he starts to fuck you slow and deep - dragging out, then slamming back in until your thighs shake. he watches your reflection, your eyes rolling back, your mouth forming silent O's against his palm. he leans close, lips brushing your ear. “feel how deep I am?"
you nod, still moaning against his mouth. your eyes are half lidded, not watching the mirror anymore, too blinded by pleasure. you look so fucking pornographic, jungkook thinks he might cum in 2 seconds. his pace quickens slightly, hips snapping against your ass. the sound echoes through the gym - skin on skin - obscene.
"you know how many times i've jerked off in here?" he grunts between thrusts. “staring at this mirror. imagining you bent over just like this." he grips your hair, forcing you to look at your reflection again. "pictured you every time." you look down, jungkook’s body is a fucking masterpiece in motion. ripped back muscles flexing with every thrust, tattoo of a snake coiling around his bicep, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your shoulder, the way his abs contract when he leans forward to bite your neck.
“look at us." he commands again, watching the reflection. "see how good you take my cock?" he muffles his own grunts against your shoulder, trying to stay quiet. but you can feel his breath hot and ragged against your skin. He's failing - soft, choked groans escape his lips every time he buries himself inside you. he moves his hand from your mouth to your throat. he’s not squeezing, it’s just there, possessive. "keep looking."
the reflection before you makes you want to collapse. jungkook behind you, one tattooed hand on your throat whilst the other presses against the mirror to keep you still as he pounds into you. your eyes flick up to his face - he’s breathing heavily, mouth wide open as he tries to be quiet, his messy hair sticks to his forehead slightly from sweat.
he spins you around suddenly, bending you over the weight bench nearby. your ass is pushed back, your thighs parted. the angle in the mirror is devastating - your arched back, your breasts pressing down, his cock sliding back in. jungkook looks huge behind you. the contrast between your softness and his hard, tattooed body is obscene. "fuck." he exhales, watching the reflection.
your bodies are slick with sweat, the bench creaks under your weight. his hips snap into yours with relentless force - deep, grinding thrusts that hit your sweet spot over and over. your breath hitches as you try to stay quiet, but little whimpers keep escaping. jungkook grits his teeth, jaw clenching.
he leans over your back, chest pressed against you. his lips brush your ear while he keeps thrusting - slow, deliberate, devastating. "you think tae can hear us?" he whispers, his breath hot. "think he's standing outside that door right now? cock hard, listening to you getting fucked like a little slut?" jungkook’s thrusts deepen, making your knees buckle. "maybe he wishes it was him."
“oh, fuck.” your swear makes him grin against your neck. he loves how his dirty talk makes you unravel.
"he probably has his hand on his dick right now." he groans, picturing it. “it’s tiny, not like mine.” he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your neck. "i bet he’s listening to you moan, knowing I'm balls deep in this tight, dripping pussy." jungkook starts to thrust even harder, using the bench for leverage, your tits bouncing on the leather. the mirror shows everything - the way his cock stretches you, the wet sounds, the way your legs tremble.
"gonna make you cum again." he pants. "right on my cock, so fucking loud, so fucking good."
he hits that spot, the one that makes your vision white, your eyes roll back instantly. that sweet spot gets abused - hard, rhythmic strokes that wreck your spine, make your knees buckle. “fuck!” it’s impossible to continue keeping quiet, you clamp your hands around the bench.
"shhh..." jungkook covers your mouth immediately. "fucking keep it down, you slut." you see yourself in the mirror - a wrecked mess. mouth covered, eyes rolling, ass bouncing. "that's it." he knows exactly how to wreck you. angles changing, hitting that spot deeper. faster, more relentless. his hand slides around to rub your clit in tight circles while he pounds into you. it’s overstimulating, cruel.
your orgasm hits harder than the first, your whole body convulses. your muffled scream dies against his palm. the feeling of your orgasm triggers his own. no warning, just a guttural groan vibrating through your spine as he blows hot and hard, your name dying on his lips. jungkook buries deep, holding there, pumping load after load inside the condom. his chest heaves against your back, sweat drips onto the bench. your thighs are shaking violently now, you’re completely wrecked.
jungkook collapses over you, pressing his forehead into your sweaty shoulder, both of you panting heavily. your legs are trembling violently, the bench beneath you starts to creak. "holy fuck." he breathes out. a rough, ragged sound. he pulls out slowly, making you whimper at the loss, then ties off the condom. he kisses the back of your neck, your shoulder - lazy, satisfied.
After a month of late-night texts and unforgettable calls, Jungkook finally drives out to a quiet house in the forest to meet the girl who’s slowly consumed his every thought. She’s everything he’s ever wanted — his dream girl. But when he finally realizes that something is wrong, it’s already far too late.
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Jeon Jungkook x Demon!Reader (use of she/her)
𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀 / 𝗮𝘂: prologue is in smau format, the rest of the fic is written — supernatural au, horror au, dark romance, online to real life, isolated house, seduction, mystery, reader is not what she seems, dubcon undertones.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: explicit language, explicit sexual content, eventual smut, supernatural/demon elements, character deaths, graphic violence, detailed gore, body horror, cannibalism, psychological horror, blood and injury, dark themes, disturbing content.
this is not a soft or light story. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to scroll/ignore.
𝗹𝘂𝘃𝗶’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 (important): fic is inspired by a horror game (will reveal the name in the last chap!) and just to be clear — this story contains dark and disturbing themes for fictional purposes only. i do not romanticize, encourage, or condone any of the harmful or violent acts depicted here. please read responsibly.
!! join the taglist through the form here , comments won't be counted as taglist requests. just keepin it organised xx
SYNOPSIS: Play my memory. You've loved him for as long as you can remember. Long enough to mistake hope for patience. Long enough to outgrow the little girl he never stopped seeing. He never broke your heart. He just never noticed he was holding it. So you decide it's time to let go. And who better to help you move on than Jungkook himself? After all, if anyone knows you... it should be him. Love is unkind. Especially when the person you're trying to forget is the one teaching you how to love someone else.
Pairing: Older best friend brother! Jungkook x inexperienced! reader
Genre: Angst, Brother's best friend, Unrequited love, Mutual pining, Slow burn, Friends to lovers, Jealousy, Romance, SMUT, Sexual Tension, age gape (a tiny age gape yn is 22 and jk 25), College AU
Warnings: Sexual content, Smut (light), Dry humping, Heavy petting, Orgasm (clothed), Dirty talk, Light degradation, Dominance, Tears during intimacy, Emotional vulnerability, Jealousy, Alcohol mentioned (hangover), Body insecurity (breasts), Possessiveness
You woke up to the soft, persistent sound of rain still tapping against the window and the dull, heavy ache of a hangover sitting behind your eyes. For a few seconds you didn’t remember where you were. The ceiling was unfamiliar. The mattress was firmer than yours. Then the soft black t-shirt twisted around your body, the faint scent of cedar and clean laundry rising from the fabric, and the quiet of someone else’s apartment hit you all at once.
Jungkook’s bed.
Heat rushed to your face almost immediately. You were in his bed. Surrounded by his sheets. The smell of him was everywhere, on the pillow, on the t-shirt, on your skin. You sat up too fast. The room tilted. Your head throbbed in protest. Your phone was on the nightstand…10:47 a.m. Your shift at the café started at 11:30. “Shit.”
You jumped out of bed, nearly tripping over the drawstring shorts that had slipped down your hips during the night. Every movement brought flashes back: the cold of the sidewalk, the way his hands had felt when he lifted you, the sharp sound of his palm against your soaked shorts, the low voice telling you he wasn’t your father.
The bedroom door was half open. The apartment smelled like coffee. Jungkook was in the kitchen, already dressed in a plain black hoodie and jeans, hair still slightly messy from sleep. On the counter behind him, your Lara Croft clothes from the night before were neatly folded, clean and dry. He must have washed them while you were asleep. He looked up when you appeared in the doorway. His eyes lifted for a fraction of a second, landing on the oversized black t-shirt that almost swallowed you, the hem brushing mid-thigh. Something unreadable passed through his expression before his gaze returned to your face. “You’re late,” he said simply.
“I know.” Your voice came out rough. You could still feel the heat in your cheeks. “I have work in forty minutes.”
He nodded once, like he’d already figured that out, and pushed a mug across the counter toward you. The coffee wasn’t black. He’d added exactly the amount of milk you always took, the same way you ordered it at the café when he happened to be there. He never asked. He just knew. You wrapped both hands around the mug, more for something to do than because you wanted it, trying not to think about the fact that you were still standing in his kitchen smelling like his sheets.
“I’ll drive you,” he said.
“You don’t have to—”
“You’re still wearing my clothes and you look like you’re about to fall over.” His tone stayed even, but there was no room for argument in it. “I’m driving you.”
Neither of you mentioned the rain or the way you’d fallen asleep in his bed holding onto his shirt. The silence around those things felt deliberate, careful, like stepping around broken glass.
You disappeared into the bathroom with the clean clothes he’d left for you, shut the door, and leaned against it for a second longer than necessary. The mirror was unforgiving. You washed your face with cold water, pulled your hair into a quick ponytail and tried to ignore how strongly his scent still clung to your skin. When you stepped back out, dressed in your own clothes with his hoodie pulled over them, he was waiting by the door with his keys. He didn’t comment on the fact that you were still wearing his hoodie… Neither did you.
The car was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional swipe of the wipers against the leftover rain. You sat in the passenger seat with his hoodie drowning you, the sleeves covering half your hands, arms crossed tightly over your chest. You stared out the window like the wet streets might offer an escape from the weight sitting in your stomach.
Jungkook drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gear shift. He didn’t speak at first. Neither did you. The silence felt heavier than it had the night before, charged with the rain, the messages you’d seen, the way he’d carried you, and everything that still hadn’t been said.
You could still feel the ghost of his palm against the back of your shorts. The low voice telling you he wasn’t your father. The way you’d held onto his shirt in your sleep without meaning to. After a few minutes he glanced at you sideways. “You going to be okay for your shift?”
“I’ll manage.”
Another stretch of quiet. The city moved past in blurred grey and neon. Then, carefully: “About last night—”
“Don’t,” you cut in, voice low. “Please. This was very embarrassing… Forget it… we’re not gonna talk about this… Not now… never.”
His jaw flexed once, the muscle jumping under the skin, but he didn’t push. The rest of the drive stayed silent. When he pulled up in front of the café, you already had your hand on the door handle, desperate to put space between you. “Thanks for the ride,” you muttered, not looking at him.
“Y/N.” You paused and stopped breathing for a moment, half out of the car, one foot already on the damp sidewalk. He kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Don’t disappear again.”
You swallowed. “…Mh.”
The way he said it made something twist low and sharp in your stomach. It wasn’t a question. It was a reminder of the list, of the rules, of the fact that whatever this was hadn’t ended in the rain. You didn’t answer. You just stepped out into the damp air, pulled his hoodie tighter around yourself like armor, and walked into the café without looking back.
Behind the counter, the familiar smell of coffee and warm pastry almost grounded you. Almost. Your hands still felt unsteady when you tied the apron. Every time the door opened you half-expected to see him, even though you knew he was already gone. Your phone vibrated in your pocket five minutes later.
Noah: Still good for tomorrow afternoon? My place at 4?
You stared at the message longer than necessary. The letters looked too bright against the screen. For a second you almost typed that you needed to cancel. Then you forced your thumbs to move.
You: Yes.
The shift suddenly felt much longer than three hours. You kept your phone face-down in your apron pocket the entire time and deliberately didn’t text Jungkook when you clocked out. You pulled his hoodie tighter around yourself and walked home in the damp air. Hana was already on the couch when you opened the door, arms crossed, looking equal parts relieved and annoyed. “You couldn’t text? Not even once?” she said the second she saw you. “I was this close to calling Taehyung.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” She stood up and studied your face. “What happened?”
You dropped your bag by the door and sat on the edge of the coffee table. For a moment you considered lying. Then the words came out anyway. “He’s still talking to Nina. I saw the messages last night. And we… argued….well I argued.”
Hana’s expression softened immediately. She didn’t ask for details. She just walked over, pulled you into a quick, tight hug, then stepped back with a determined look. “Okay. Phones off. Tonight we’re doing a full girl night. Bad movies, worse snacks, zero boys. Deal?”
You almost smiled. “Okay that actually sound like a nice deal.” You turned your phone completely off and left it on the kitchen counter. The silence that followed felt strange at first, then strangely light. You took a long, scalding shower until your skin turned pink, washed the last traces of rain and his scent off your body, and pulled on your softest pajamas. Oversized shirt, old shorts, hair still damp. Hana had already set up the living room with blankets and a ridiculous amount of chips and ice cream. She put on some mid 2000’s rom com neither of you had seen in years and spent the next two hours filling you in on every piece of campus gossip she’d collected. Who slept with who at the party. Who got caught making out in the laundry room. Who was already failing their midterms. You actually laughed, with real laughter. For a little while the weight in your chest loosened enough that you could breathe without thinking about Jungkook, or Nina, or the list, or the way his hands had felt on you in the rain. It felt good so dangerously good.
Around midnight Hana’s phone lit up with a message from Namjoon. She glanced at it, then at you, looking guilty. “He’s outside. I can tell him to wait…”
“Go,” you said, already standing to gather the empty bowls. “I’m fine. Really. Go enjoy ..”
She hesitated, then pulled you into another hug. “Text me if you need anything. Even if it’s three in the morning.”
“I will.” The door closed behind her a minute later. The apartment fell quiet again. You stood in the middle of the living room for a moment, still holding a blanket, before finally walking over to the kitchen counter and turning your phone back on. Several notifications lit up the screen at once… all from Jungkook. Your stomach tightened before you even opened them.
Jungkook: You home?
A few minutes later..
Jungkook: Text me. Seriously.
Then…
Jungkook: Y/N.
That was it, just your name. You hated that it affected you more than a paragraph would have. Because you could hear his voice in it. The same calm tone he used when he was trying not to show that something bothered him. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard.
You could type I’m fine. You could type I got home. You could type anything. Instead, you locked your phone again. Because if you answered, he would ask what was wrong. And if he asked, you weren’t sure you could keep pretending nothing was. You placed the phone face down and went to bed. But even with your eyes closed, his messages stayed there. Not only the words but the fact that he had sent them.
The next morning, you woke up before your alarm. For a few seconds, you stayed still, staring at the ceiling and listening to the quiet hum of the apartment. No rain, no party noise and no music from Hana’s phone. Then your eyes moved toward the kitchen counter. Your phone was still there. You had turned it back on before going to bed, but you hadn’t opened anything else. You already knew what was waiting. You reached for it anyway… no new messages. Somehow, that bothered you more, you hated that you had expected one, you hated that part of you had wanted him to try again.
After everything, after seeing that conversation, after walking away from him, after ignoring him for an entire evening… you still wanted proof that he cared. You locked the screen and pushed the thought away. Today was supposed to be chill. You had a project to finish, a deadline, a life that existed outside of Jungkook.
Noah’s apartment was quieter than you expected. It wasn’t very silent, actually there was music playing softly from a speaker near the kitchen, the occasional sound of traffic coming through the window, the low hum of his computer running in the background. But it was calm, a little bit different.
You sat at the end of his couch with your laptop open, your notes spread around you. Noah was across from you, reading through the outline you had written. For the last twenty minutes, he had been pretending to focus only on the project. You had noticed. Every few minutes, his eyes would lift from the screen, not toward the notes but toward you. “You know what?”
You glanced up. “What?”
He tilted his head slightly, studying you. “I didn’t expect you to be this good.”
Your eyebrows pulled together. “At the project?”
He smiled. “At anything, honestly.”
The words made you pause. You let out a small laugh, unsure how you were supposed to take that. “That’s a little bit rude don’t you think…”
“No, no… Haha not in that way,” He immediately shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s just that when I first met you, you were so quiet. I thought I’d have to drag every answer out of you.”
You looked down at your notes. “I’m not really good at talking to people I don’t know.”
“I noticed.” There was no cruelty in his voice. If anything, he sounded amused. “It’s kind of cute actually.”
Your fingers stopped moving for half a second. So he find it cute, he find you cute. It wasn’t a bad thing. You knew that but something about the way he said it made you feel like he was describing something he had already decided about you. You pushed the thought away. Noah tapped the page in front of him.
“Anyway. This section is actually really strong.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.” His expression turned more serious. “You catch things other people miss.”
That compliment softened you immediately because that part felt genuine, because he was noticing something about you that wasn’t just your appearance.
You smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
“There it is.”
You looked up. “What?”
“That.” He pointed at you. “You do that every time someone says something nice.”
You frowned. “Do what?”
“Act like you’re waiting for them to take it back.” The observation surprised you. You didn’t know what to answer. Noah smiled, softer this time. “You need to stop doubting yourself so much.”
You looked back at your laptop. “I’m trying.”
“I know.” The answer came too easily like he already understood you, like he had already figured out parts of you that you were still trying to understand yourself. You ignored the thought.
Later, when you took a break, you stood up to get water from the kitchen.
“You’re not leaving, right?”
You turned around and you find Noah smiling. It makes you laughed. “I’m literally just getting a glass of water.”
“I know. I’m joking.”
You shook your head, smiling slightly, it was harmless probably but the comment stayed in your mind for a second longer than it should have. Not because it was bad but because it felt like he was already comfortable enough to test where the line was. When you came back, Noah was looking through the photos from the project. “You should dress like this more often.”
You looked down at your clothes. “What?”
He gestured toward Jungkook’s hoodie. “You always wear oversized clothes. You kind of disappear in them.”
You touched the sleeve instinctively. “I just like being comfortable.”
“I know.” He smiled.“But you’re hiding.” The sentence sounded almost thoughtful. Almost like he understood something about you that you hadn’t understood yourself. “You have no idea how much people notice you when you actually let them.”
You stayed quiet because a part of you liked hearing that. A part of you liked the idea that someone saw something in you. “You really think that?”
“Yeah.”His eyes stayed on you. “I think you just need someone to remind you.” The way he said someone made you look away.
You opened your laptop again. “Should we finish the last section?”
Noah smiled.“Sure.” And just like that, the moment passed.. Almost.
You got out of Noah’s car just as the sky started turning the soft grey of early evening. The air still smelled like rain from the day before. You thanked him, closed the door, then hesitated for half a second before leaning in through the open window and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for today,” you said.
Noah smiled, a little surprised, a little pleased. “Anytime.”
You didn’t notice the dark car parked a little further down the street. You didn’t see the way Jungkook’s hands tightened around the steering wheel when he watched the small, casual gesture through the windshield of Noah’s car. You only turned toward your building, still feeling the faint warmth of the kiss on your cheek, and found him already standing near the entrance. That was when you saw him. Jungkook was standing near the entrance, hands in the pockets of his black hoodie, posture still. He had clearly been waiting. His eyes moved from you to the car pulling away behind you, then back to your face. Something unreadable passed through his expression before it settled into that familiar calm that never quite reached his eyes.
You walked up to him without speaking. He followed you inside and up the stairs in silence. Only when the apartment door closed behind you did he speak. “You didn’t text me.”
You set your keys down on the counter a little harder than necessary. “I was busy.”
He looked at you for a long second. “For twelve hours?”
You shrugged, already turning away. “I had things to do.” The quiet that followed felt heavier than it should have. You could feel him watching you. When you finally looked up, his jaw was tight.
You decided to cut through it the only way you knew how. “So what’s the lesson today?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, like he could see exactly what you were doing. Steering the conversation back to something safe. Something with rules, something you could control. He didn’t answer right away. Instead he nodded toward the hallway.
“Your room.”You hesitated only a second before leading the way. The bedroom was small, the bed still unmade from the morning, a desk covered in notes for the campus paper. You sat on the edge of the mattress because standing suddenly felt like too much. Jungkook closed the door quietly behind him and stayed near it for a moment, watching you. Then he walked over and stopped in front of you. “Take the hoodie off.”
The order was quiet, but there was no softness in it. You stared at him for a second longer than you should have, heat already climbing up your neck. Your fingers hesitated at the hem. Part of you wanted to refuse just to keep the extra layer between you but another part already knew you wouldn’t. You pulled it over your head slowly, almost shyly, and let it fall to the floor. Underneath you were wearing a black balconette bra. The kind that pushed up what little you had. You had a tiny mole on your right breast. Your chest had always felt too small, something you tried not to think about, and sitting here under his gaze made the insecurity sharper.
Jungkook’s eyes dropped for a brief second. Not long enough to be crude. Just long enough for you to notice. Then they returned to your face. He sat down beside you on the bed, close enough that his thigh almost touched yours. The mattress dipped under his weight.“You’re still trying to guess what I want,” he said quietly. “Stop.”
Heat rose to your cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“There is no ‘supposed to.’” His voice stayed low, steady. “That’s the point.” He lifted one hand and rested it lightly against the side of your neck, thumb brushing the edge of your jaw. The contact was careful. Testing.“Do you like that?”
The question was simple. Answering it felt impossible. Your mind went blank the way it always did when someone asked you directly what you wanted. You had spent so long making yourself small that the words refused to come. He waited.
“Yes,” you finally managed, almost too quiet to hear.
“Louder.”
“Yes!”
His thumb stroked once along your jaw. “Good. Now tell me if you want me to stop.”
You nodded.
“Words.”
“I don’t want you to stop.” You blushed, pupils dilated, shivering. Something in his expression shifted not softer just more focused. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, and kissed you. It was deeper than the first time even slower at first. His hand stayed at your neck while the other settled at your waist, fingers pressing lightly into your skin.
When he pulled back just enough to speak, his mouth still brushed yours. “What do you want?”
Again the question sat heavy between you. You could feel your pulse in your throat. Part of you wanted to say whatever you thought he expected. Another part, quieter and newer, wanted something else entirely. You swallowed. “I want you to keep touching me.”
His hand at your waist slid higher, under the hem of your top, warm against bare skin. “Where?”
Your face burned. The answer felt too big for your mouth. But he didn’t move further until you gave it. “My waist. My thighs… My waist… over my bra.”
He watched you the entire time you spoke, like every word mattered more than the next. Then he kissed you again, deeper this time, while his hands followed exactly what you had asked for, slow, more deliberate. Teaching you that wanting something out loud didn’t make the sky fall. It only made everything sharper. His hand slid higher under the black lace, palm warm against the soft curve of your breast. You tensed for half a second, the old insecurity flashing through you, but he didn’t comment on the size or the way you immediately tried to make yourself smaller. He simply held you there, thumb brushing slowly over the fabric until your breathing changed. “Still okay?”
You nodded, then remembered.“Yes.”
He kissed you again, even deeper. When his tongue slid against yours you understood what he wanted without being told. You followed, hesitant at first, then more sure, matching the slow push and pull of his mouth. The kiss turned messy fast. You found yourself leaning into him without meaning to, one hand gripping the front of his hoodie like you needed something solid to keep from floating away.
Jungkook shifted, guiding you back until you were lying against the pillows. He followed, settling between your legs without putting his full weight on you. The hard line of his cock pressed against the seam of your jeans through his own, thick and unmistakable, and the contact pulled a small, startled sound from your throat. He stilled immediately. “Tell me. You like that huh?”
Your face was burning. The words felt huge. “I like that,” you managed. “Don’t stop….please”
A quiet breath left him. He rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate, watching your face the entire time. The friction dragged another sound out of you, softer this time. Your hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair.
He kept the pace unhurried. Every movement was controlled, like he was teaching you the shape of your own reactions. One hand gripped your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh to pull you tighter against him. The other moved between your waist, the side of your breast, and the column of your throat, never staying in one place long enough for you to get used to it. “You’re already wet for this, aren’t you?” he murmured against your mouth, voice low and rough. “I can feel how hot you are through your jeans.”
You whimpered. The embarrassment should have been enough to make you stop, but the slow grind of his cock against you felt so good, too new. Your hips started answering his without permission, arching up to meet every roll of his body. A broken little moan slipped out then another. You didn’t even realize your eyes had gone wet until a tear slid down toward your temple. He noticed. “That’s it, ride it,” he said, almost gently, while his hand tightened on your ass and guided you into a harder rhythm. “Let it all out. You’re allowed to feel this.”
He kissed you again, tongue sliding deep, swallowing the next moan before it fully left your mouth. His hips never stopped. The thick ridge of his cock dragged against your clit through the layers of fabric with every slow, deliberate thrust. Your back arched off the mattress. Your thighs tightened around his hips. Soft, helpless sounds kept spilling out of you, mixed with quiet tears you barely registered.
“Look at me. Understand?” You forced your eyes open. His were dark, focused, locked on yours while he kept rolling his hips against you in steady strokes. A faint flush sat high on his cheekbones. His mouth was slightly swollen from kissing you. The muscles in his arms flexed every time he pulled you closer. “You’re allowed to want this,” he said quietly. “You’re allowed to take it.” The words hit harder than the friction. Something inside you loosened.
“Kook-” Your fingers tightened in his hair as the tension coiled tighter, sharper, until it finally broke. You came with a muffled cry against his mouth, thighs shaking around his hips, body arching hard into the slow grind he never stopped giving you. Tears kept slipping out even as the pleasure rolled through you in waves. You didn’t understand why you were crying. You only knew it felt too good to stop. He worked you through it until it eased, then slowed to a stop, still pressed against you. His cock was still hard, thick and insistent against the wet patch of your jeans. His breathing was heavier than before, uneven. A single muscle jumped in his jaw. His forehead rested against yours for a second. Neither of you spoke.
The room felt smaller and warmer. It was charged with everything that had just happened and everything that hadn’t. Jungkook pulled back just enough to look at you properly. His voice was lower than usual when he finally spoke. “That’s the lesson.” He brushed a strand of hair away from your face with surprising gentleness, then pushed himself up and off the bed. The absence of his weight left the air colder. You could still see the clear outline of his erection against the front of his jeans when he stood. You could see it, he was big… massive. “Next time you don’t answer for twelve hours,” he said quietly, already heading for the door, “I’m coming to find you. Rules still stand.” He left without waiting for a reply, still hard, still composed, like the last twenty minutes hadn’t cost him anything.
You stayed on the bed, heart racing, thighs still trembling, the taste of him still on your mouth, trying to remember how to breathe normally again. You turned onto your side and pulled the nearest pillow against your chest. It smelled like nothing in particular, just your own detergent, and somehow that made the absence worse. A part of you wanted to text him, wanted to ask if he was okay, hated that you even cared. You pressed your face into the pillow and closed your eyes. The tears that came this time were quieter. Not from pleasure. Just from the strange, hollow feeling of having been completely undone by someone who could walk away like it cost him nothing. Outside, the evening kept getting darker. You didn’t move for a long time.
A/N: Did you like the smut part? I don’t know if you like super explicite smut description, personally I love it but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable darlings, let me know…How do you feel about mister Noah? I really had fun writing this haha. I kinda feel like we left tae aside so we are going to bring it back, but I feel like I also believe that life is also that, having a little social life outside of our family … if that makes sense :) You’re definitely not ready for next chapters yn and jk are really some freak. Sorry again and always for any grammar mistakes.
𐙚 Tropes : unrequited love, drummer au, rockstar au, angst, slow burn, yearning, she falls first he falls harder, friends to lovers, smut, found family
𐙚 Word count : 7.8k
𐙚 Summary : Sometimes loving someone means silently standing beside them and watching while they fall in love with someone else.
𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 (𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟐) | 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 (𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟒)
a/n : Hi baddies. Usually I'm a big yapper irl, but my brain immediately goes blank when it comes to authors note lol. I posted a wip post so I guess you could check that? Wait, definitely go check that! I have an exciting announcement there for between the soundchecks readers. 🤭
The next morning, I feel like shit.
I actually slept with him. I slept with the stranger French man I saw at the club. And now I feel like shit about it.
Sure, he knew very well what he needed to do. And if my brain wasn’t so full of Jungkook, so consumed by him all the time, I would’ve been able to enjoy it way more.
His face at the club, the look in his eyes while he silently stared into my unsure eyes… It was like my brain was intentionally trying to prevent my body from finding joy in another man’s arms. As if by feeling a few moments of joy with another man, I’m cheating on my feelings for Jungkook.
Which is total crap. We’re not together. He’s not mine. He sleeps with other women when he has physical needs, too. Why can’t I?
I kept asking that question of myself as I tried to push the thoughts and images of Jungkook out of my head and focus my attention on the skillful thrusts of Quentin’s hips against mine. But I couldn’t.
Each time I thought I was free of the clutch Jungkook had on my brain, his face would reappear. I let out a groan of frustration every time that happened. Quentin thought they were sounds of pleasure, so he would pick up his pace. It honestly worked a couple of times. I was able to focus on the pleasure as he accidently hit my g-spot, but that was when things got worse.
When the pleasure spiked up, I imagined Jungkook again. But not with that disappointed, gut-wrenching look from the club. This time he was naked. First, it was the version of him I’ve seen a hundred times.
While he was playing on that stage shirtless. Then in his apartment as we hung out. Then, my imagination took it to a dangerous territory where we had never actually been in.
This time, I saw him pressed against me. His naked, glistening chest was pressed against mine as he bounced me up and down on his cock and left warm, wet kisses on my neck. The strands of long hair were wet from the sweat as they fell around his flushed face. His arms wrapping so gently around my waist and hip, holding me close to him, unlike the thrusts of his hips which were sharp and urgent.
I came harder than I had in a long time. My breathy, loud moan echoing around the hotel room walls as I sagged against his body.
Not Jungkook’s. Quentin’s.
The wave of bliss wore off quick and got replaced by a tsunami of guilt and embarrassment. I had sex with another man, while picturing my friend instead of him.
I came with the fantasy of Jungkook, and I wanted to melt onto the ground and stay there.
I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling as the memories of last night flash before my eyes like a movie while a certain French man sleeps next to me.
I woke up pretty early. But I couldn’t find the will to leave the bed. I don’t want to do anything or see anyone.
While I internally hoped Quentin would get up and leave my hotel room as fast as possible, I secretly hoped he wouldn’t wake so I could pretend none of the things that happened last night actually happened.
If he wakes up it means we have to talk, even as little as saying hi, and I don’t want to do that. I want time to stop for a little longer.
He doesn’t seem close to waking up though. His breaths are heavy and loud as he lies on his stomach facing away from me, deep in his slumber.
I keep my eyes on the hotel ceiling as I let shame gnaw at me a little more.
My calm heart speeds up when I hear a knock on my suite room. My eyes snap from the door to Quentin’s way. He still seems asleep.
I sit up on the bed and remove the sheets off of me in very gentle and careful moves as I curse at the hotel room service for showing up so early. I don’t need fucking breakfast. I need to fucking hide. From everyone, even the man in my bed.
I hear another knock as I bend down to my suitcase and take a pair of pajama pants and a tank top.
“I’m fucking coming!” I hiss quietly at the door.
I hurriedly put on the pants, tripping over the handle of my suitcase. “Fuck.” I curse under my breath.
I get to the door as I put on the tank top. I open the door, and freeze when I see who’s standing in the hallway.
“Hey, Viv.”
Jungkook beams at me as he walks inside the room.
“How are you doing? Were you still sleeping?”
His eyes fall onto my see-through top. I slap his bicep with a scowl.
“Stop looking down at my shirt, Jeon.”
He chuckles.
“I wasn’t. They were looking at me first.”
I groan at him. I can’t take his teasing this early in the day.
Why is he here in my room and what do I do about the naked man sleeping on my bed right now?
I don’t want Jungkook to see him. I know it sounds silly. But this is how we are. We flirt. We go home with strangers from time to time. We make sure the other doesn’t see more than they need to. Then we go back to our silly banter and flirting. It’s our cycle. Our fucked-up routine. And we’ve kept it that way for years.
“What? Are you okay, Vi?” Jungkook asks in worry, a line appearing on his forehead.
“Yeah, I’m good. What are you doing here so early?”
I try to act relaxed. I close the door and try to seem casual.
“Early? Viv, it’s twelve. We’re all supposed to go out in the city for lunch in half an hour. Remember?”
“Fuck.” I cover my eyes with my palms. “I totally forgot about that.”
“How much did you drink last night?” He lets out a laugh.
“Definitely not as much as Jimin did.” I mutter. “How is he? Did you guys come back from the club just fine last night?”
He goes to the shelves on the wall and looks at the decoration pieces.
“He’s okay. We actually got attacked last night.”
“…What?” I ask in horror.
“Yeah. Paparazzi attacked us when we were leaving the club. And Jimin was a little wasted. They almost tripped him to the ground when we were getting in the cars.”
“Oh my god…”
“And that’s not the worst part. His car got followed to the hotel by some crazy ass stalkers.” He clicks his tongue in frustration. “He’s still very agitated about last night.”
A heavy silence falls between us.
This is not the first time such a thing is happening to Jimin. As the singer and frontman of the band, he’s been getting harassed by paparazzi and stalkers throughout the years.
The other members have had disturbing experiences with these types of people, too. But they weren’t even a fraction of what my friend has had to endure. Especially ever since they became more famous and gained this much popularity worldwide.
Everyone becomes uncomfortable every time such a thing happens. Jimin tries to hide the impact these incidents have on him and acts normal. Like nothing happened. But we can see right through him. We don’t bring it up directly in front of him, but we can see how much they affect him.
“Where is he now?” I ask quietly.
“I checked on him earlier. He’s in his room, but he kicked me out fast. Dionne was with him.”
He looks at me with a small smirk.
“Of course she was.” I breathe out a chuckle.
They may not want an actual functioning relationship, but they both know very well, as well as we do, that whenever the smallest dilemma happens, they find their comfort in each other's arms. Their only coping mechanism when facing any hardship is sleeping together.
And honestly, good for them. Even their version of a fucked-up complicated relationship is healthier than whatever the fuck I have.
“Well, hurry up. You need to be ready in half an hour.”
He turns to me.
My eyes widen as I shift my weight on my legs. “Uh… I will. You can go now. Don’t worry, I’ll be ready in half an hour.”
“Will you?” He teases me. “I’ve seen you get ready almost two hours before we had to leave and you still got late.”
I walk up to him and place my hands on his arm and back muscle and push him toward the door.
“I will get ready. Now you can go.”
I put some pressure against his toned muscles.
“Are you actually kicking me out of your room?” He sounds amused.
“No.” I say as I push him toward the hotel room door. “I just don’t need you on my hair making silly comments while I get ready. You’re no help, so off you go.”
“Hey, I can be plenty of help. Anything that will make us not late again.”
He raises an eyebrow at me. And I roll my eyes.
“I don’t need help.” Although Quentin is still right next room, so I guess I have all the help I might need… “Now stop wasting my time. I’m gonna get late because of you.”
I manage to get him three steps closer to the door.
Now he starts resisting against my push and turns his head around to look at me.
“I’m the reason you’re gonna get late?” He scoffs a laugh. “Is that the thanks I get for waking up your majesty? You didn’t even remember we had plans for lunch.”
“Thank you. Now go.”
Putting pressure on his hard muscles feels like pushing at a brick wall. Absolutely useless. He doesn’t move an inch as he stares down at me with his brows lowered.
“Why are you so keen on kicking me out, Viv?”
My movements halt at his serious tone.
“Are you hiding a dead body or something?” He playfully asks.
And I relax at his dramatic comment.
“Oh, yes. And it won’t be alone for too long because your dead body will join it soon if you keep lingering here and then complain about me being late.” I grin at him.
He throws his hands up in surrender.
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
He turns and reaches out for the door handle.
I feel relaxed and even a little victorious, but it’s short-lived when he stops and turns around again.
“But since I’m such a bad influence on you and always make you late, I’ll remember to not make you late by waking you up for our flight tomorrow.”
He gives me wide mocking smile before he opens the door.
I give him the same face. My heart doesn’t rest until he’s well out of the door and closes the door behind him. I breathe out a relieved air as I close my eyes.
It’s not that I feel the need to hide all my one night stands from Jungkook. But this one particular hookup was not the hill I wanted to die on.
I felt exceptionally more petty and sad when I decided I wanted to sleep with someone. Seeing Jungkook and Airi together brought the worst out of me. So I can’t say I make the greatest decisions when I’m feeling that hurt and bitter. I felt lonely and upset. So I clung onto the first opportunity with a physically attractive man.
I don’t fully regret last night. I don’t even think I regret sleeping with Quentin. But god, do I hate all the reasons I did it for.
I gasp in a breath and jump when I hear a door click open. My eyes snap open to meet the naked man. Thank fuck he’s wearing his boxer shorts.
“Morning.” He says in his raspy sleepy voice. “Did I hear talking?”
I blink as I try to not focus too much on the fact that Jungkook was standing in this room not two minutes ago, and now another almost-naked man is.
When are you going to learn to make better decisions in life, Vivien?
“Ah… yeah. My friend was just here. Actually… I kind of have lunch plans with my friends and I have to go in thirty minutes.”
He understands what I mean and starts getting ready as I do. I almost don’t know how to act. I feel awkward and kind of bad.
But I try to not think of it too much as I hide in the bathroom and do my makeup and hair as Quentin gets ready in the bedroom. He doesn’t wait around and overstay his visit. He leaves as soon as he’s ready.
I’m ready and out of my hotel room in thirty minutes. I walk into the lobby in a white summer dress with pastel-blue floral prints, the dress hugging my waist tightly and flowing like water around the rest of my body. In the lobby, I see almost everyone ready and waiting in the waiting area. Jimin and Dionne are sitting on the couch, talking to Lia and Joey.
Mark’s head is low and in his phone, while everyone else are engaged in a group conversation.
The only two people I notice, who are not a part of the conversation and are talking among themselves are Airi and Jungkook. They are deep in their own conversation as they chuckle and set themselves apart from everyone else.
A knot forms in my throat as I watch them. Jungkook has his head slightly lowered as he listens to Airi speaking with a chuckle. What could they be talking about that has them smiling and laughing like that all the time.
I notice all the small body language signs in that short time I have my eyes on them. His lowered head as he gives his full attention to her words… His right leg resting on his left one, leaning on her side… His left elbow resting between them on the back of the couch… Even her body is leaning to him.
Images of last night flash before my eyes. My unconscious fantasies mocking me as I watch the cruel reality in front of me.
I can’t even enjoy physical intimacy with other men, and here he is. Enjoying a simple genuine conversation with the girl he likes.
I move my eyes away from them. Fuck my life.
“Hey guys.”
I announce as I look Jimin and Dionne’s way.
“Hey.” Everyone greet me.
“Where did you disappear so soon last night?” Dionne asks me with a smirk. “We looked for you but Lia said she saw you leave with a hot French gentleman? Did you have fun last night?”
She wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive way. Jimin joins her in giving me a silly smile.
I can feel the heavy gaze of everyone sitting on the other couch on the side of my face. The side of my face tingles as I fight the urge to turn my head and take a glance of Jungkook’s reaction, but I keep my eyes on Dionne.
“Well, you must be mistaken.” I force out a smile as I attempt to make it look genuine. “I didn’t have anything with anyone last night.”
“Wait, so you’re saying you left with a sexy-as-fuck French guy and didn’t get some D from him?” Dionne asks, sounding too much like she doesn’t believe me the slightest.
I lose the fight against myself and take the quickest glance at the other couch.
They have put a pause on their conversation as Jungkook’s head lifts. His attention on me and D as he listens carefully to our conversation.
If I looked too hard, I could see a small line on his forehead.
I look at Dionne with warning eyes. “Let’s spare me from the details. Can we please?”
Jimin whistles with mischief in his eyes as D woos and cheers in excitement.
“Nope. Absolutely not. We’re getting into details.” D says. “Are French men really as freaky and expert as they say?”
I even feel Mark lowering his phone and raising his head, now listening to the new conversation.
“I wouldn’t know. Because I didn’t sleep with him.” I force out as I give Dionne the scariest warning look I can. Get it, D. “Now stop, you two. Because we can go into more details about you, since we’re on the topic of details and last night.”
I point my finger between Jimin and D.
That shuts her up immediately, and Jimin acts clueless as he looks around the lobby.
The other members finally join us in the lobby before we leave the hotel. We have reservation for some of the closer staff, who are more like a big group of friends than employees and staff, and the members.
We leave the hotel in three cars, since some security and bodyguards will be coming with us.
We initially planned on going alone when we were planning to explore the city, but after the events of last night and for everyone’s safety, especially Jimin’s, we thought it would be better if they accompanied us.
Even though the car Jungkook is taking has empty seats for me, I purposefully make my way to the car Dionne and Jimin are taking.
Like everyone would expect, I would normally sit either with Jungkook or Dionne. Today, tough, I’m not sure if I’m feeling ready to sit next to Jungkook an entire ride.
I can feel he knows something is going on. I know it sounds silly, but I will probably act like I’ve committed a felony the whole drive to the restaurant. And he knows me too much not to figure out what’s wrong.
We’ve been through all of this too many times not to realize the signs and behaviors.
D senses something is wrong. She looks at me with a confused look, but she masks it when I drop my eyes, slap on an indifferent face and make my way to the car.
I can sense Jungkook standing by their car’s door as his eyes follow me. I take a quick glance at him. His eyes meet mine for a split second before they fall down on Airi in front of him. She walks in front of him and gets on the backseat of the SUV.
I turn my eyes forward and get in the backseat. Since I’m taking up the seat in this car, Joey takes the same ride as Jungkook. I can tell my best friend knows something is unusual about my act, but she doesn’t mention anything.
The car ride is comfortable and quiet. I sit by the window as Dionne sits in the middle and Jimin on her other side.
I sometimes don’t understand how they do this.
They have an arrangement that seems complicated and confusing to an outsider. But for them, it works.
They don’t date. They throw their entire focus into work and duty, and everything that lifestyle brings with it. They don’t do romance. When it’s just the two of them, they’re just physical.
And when that’s over, they come back to being more than just the two of them, and suddenly they switch to being friends. Acting like they weren’t just fucking each other’s brains out earlier that morning. There’s nothing awkward or uncomfortable between them. Only absolute peace and harmony.
Sometimes I find myself envious of their relationship. I wish I could be this carefree and not get consumed by emotions — and hurtful ones, that is.
At lunch, we are escorted to our reserved big table on the more private corner of the luxury restaurant. Everyone sits around the table, leaving the seat on Jungkook’s right side empty as if in an automatic habit.
I don’t say anything as I sit lastly on the chair, with D on my right side.
We’re barely seated and getting comfortable on our seats, when Jungkook notices a few people on the other side of the glass window standing outside the restaurant and taking photos and videos from Indigo.
My eyes automatically travel to Jimin, and I immediately notice the way his body stiffens. He doesn’t let out too much on his face, but he’s uncomfortable. Everyone at the table are.
A deep scowl grows on Jungkook’s brows and entire face as he straightens his back and calls for their bodyguard and restaurant staff. They take care of the matter immediately. The restaurant manager has his staff close the long dark curtains and apologizes for the minor inconvenience.
Indigo usually doesn’t take fans and random people taking photos of them in public this roughly. But after episodes like last night, they have less tolerance for occurrences like this.
“Are you okay?” I ask Jimin in a whisper.
I know he likes to pretend like nothing happened every time something like last night happens, acting like he’s fine, like everything’s fine. So I try to draw as little attention to him as possible.
“Yeah.” He straightens his back and gives me a forced smile. “I’m good.”
His response does nothing to actually assure me he’s taking it well, but I let it go. He doesn’t like to talk about the dark side of his profession, least of all in a group setting.
Lia speaks up to distract the bandmates now that we have more privacy from the outside passengers.
“Jake says he won’t be coming to the Eiffel tower with us, is everyone else coming though?”
Dionne raises her head from her menu.
“Why aren’t you coming?” She asks Jake. She picks up the glass of water the waiter just put down in front of her.
“I got tickets for a very small band I like. It’s so fun that they have their concert here the same time as we do.”
Jake is all for discovering new, underrated bands and artists, supporting them and attending their concerts religiously. That’s his favorite hobby. And he always supports them by posting them all over his social media.
The members aren’t big on social media. It’s mostly moments of them working in the studio with their bandmates, or sometimes when they’re spending quality time together. Jungkook occasionally posts little snippets and random moments of his daily personal life, too.
But Jimin avoids it like the plague. He hates posting anything remotely personal. I assume it’s kind of obvious why.
“Can’t believe you prefer doing that over spending time with your own bandmates.” Joey says with a dry, offended tone.
“I spent enough time with you when you were broke. Now it’s time for the other bands.”
I snort a small laugh as I bring my water higher to my lips and study the menu.
Jungkook leans down and whispers in my ear with a playful smirk.
“He acts all offended now but watch him kick Jake two streets away in the butt because he secretly took a sip of his drink.”
I snort a loud laugh as a little water splashed from my mouth.
The image of Joey, literally kick Jake forward because he found out it was Jake who drank half of his coffee that morning when we were visiting Las Vegas last year flashes before my eyes. You would think public image matters to the members of such a big worldwide band.
But nope. Morning coffee matters the most to Joey Mercier. He becomes a beast if he is required to do something before eleven A.M and doesn’t have caffeine in his system.
Everyone at the table turns their heads to our way with questioning eyes. Jungkook lets out a small giggle as he covers his mouth. I try to hide my laugh as I look away from Joey. He knows we were talking about him.
We order drinks as we fall into a group conversation, with Jungkook whispering little remarks in my ear as we chuckle and giggle, trying not to attract the attention of the entire table.
We fail. But they’re all familiar with our shenanigans. They know we can’t sit next to each other and keep our murmurs and silent laugh for more than… five minutes. Ten, at our best behavior.
The short walk to our cars after lunch is filled by locals saying hi and waving to Jimin and the Indigo members, but nothing actually inconvenient happens. Fortunately.
Jimin breathes out a relieved breath as we get in the car. Jake takes a separate car back to the hotel, and we leave for a stroll through the heart of the city.
I’m not the slightest surprised to see Jungkook carrying his old camera throughout the whole city, snapping pictures every chance he gets. Of the city. Of the clear sky. Of the freaking birds swimming by the small lake. Of us.
I’m not fond of the photo he took of me while my mouth was wide open as I was eating my ice cream.
I tried to bribe him into deleting that photo. I don’t know why I even tried. He almost gave me an evil laugh and said “In your wildest dreams. This will go on my holiday card I’m sending out.”
I gave that up with a deep sigh.
We arrive at our next stop. The Eiffel tower is as crowded as ever. Some people recognize Indigo immediately. They don’t come too close, but they definitely take some photos and short videos of them before Indigo’s bodyguards stop them.
He doesn’t usually hate the attention, and we’re in broad daylight now unlike last night, but we walk with caution and let Jimin walk in the middle and away from any possible episodes.
Thankfully nothing happens and we all walk casually as we speak and take photos of the area, pretending like we don’t notice some people a few feet away taking videos of Indigo.
When it’s time to visit the tower itself, I slow down and stay behind.
Airi, who’s been walking on my left, notices as she stops too. Everyone else continues walking.
“What happened? Are you not coming?”
She asks with a small frown.
“No, I’ll stay down here.” I scrunch my face. “I’m not the biggest fan of height. This one is particularly freaky.”
I look up at the beautiful, but horrifyingly high tower and immediately feel dizzy and nauseated.
Yup, nope. I’ll pass.
Airi seems unsure and worried, and that’s when Jungkook steps in.
“It’s fine. She didn’t visit the tower last time we were here, either. You can go.” He gives her a warm smile. “I’ll stay here with her.”
That flutters my heart like a boiling kettle on a stove.
He stayed with me here and filled our time by taking cute pictures of me on his camera while everyone else visited the tower last time too. He’s always made sure to make me feel not left out because of my extreme fear of height.
That’s extra heart-warming and precious to me, because I know Jungkook is an adrenalin junkie through and through and loves dangerous activities that have to do with ridiculous heights. Even though every time, I scream at him to not get himself killed as I hold onto a pillar for dear life.
“Okay then. Have fun here.” She tells us with a smile.
“Hey, Airi.” She turns back to Jungkook before she takes a second step. “Take a few pretty pictures for us.” He tells her with a wink.
And just like that, I feel my heart on the ground and under his feet again.
I turn my back onto them before any of them notices the change in my face. I hear Airi giggle.
“Absolutely. You take some pretty photos of down here for me too, will you?” She asks as her voice becomes further away.
“Yes, ma’am.” He says with a chuckle.
I wish I were that bush of flower. She seems to have a better life than me.
“Viv?”
“Huh?”
I turn around at Jungkook calling me.
Did he call me more than once?
“I said do you want a pretzel?” He points to the pretzel cart not so far from us.
“Ah… Yeah. Sure.”
We walk slowly to the cart. He buys me one with a sweet topping and a salty one for himself. We walk side by side around the space.
Now that it’s only the two of us, and not the rest of the band and staff, I feel weird and awkward walking with Jungkook in such a crowded place in daylight. There are still some people that stare at Jungkook. Some of them even take their phones out and direct them at us.
I realize I’ve been looking up and around us for too long when I hear Jungkook speaking to me.
“Don’t mind them.” He tells me while his head is down and his eyes are on his pretzel. “Just pretend they’re not around. Like we always do. Do you want a bite?”
He offers his pretzel to me. I take his as I give him mine. Jungkook keeps his eyes on the pretzel for a while before he takes a bite out of it.
“I didn’t notice you leaving so early last night.” He says as he looks in front of him. “What time did you leave?”
Feeling like I got caught —which I know is ridiculous— I stop chewing as I look for any telling hints on his expression. I see nothing. He doesn’t let anything on. He looks like he’s asking the most casual question.
“Um… I think it was a little after you walked towards us.”
“Right.” He nods his head slightly.
My eyes don’t leave him, searching for even the smallest sign that could tell me what that ‘right’ actually meant. I see nothing. There is nothing.
I feel like I’ve been whiplashed when his voice travels between us with passion.
“That view by that little fountain is cute. You wanna take pictures?”
“Will you delete that one where my mouth is five feet open?”
“Not a chance.”
He tells me with a sweet smile.
“I hate you.”
I mutter under my breath as I walk to where Jungkook was pointing at.
He takes the other pretzel from me as he crouches down on his feet and snaps picture after picture from me and the view behind me.
And honestly, in that moment, I wish I had a camera of my own so I could snap a photo of the view in front of me.
Jungkook struggling to stay down and keeping his balance on his feet with my bag resting between his thigh and abdomen, and our two pretzels in one hand as he holds the camera in both his hands and takes photos of me with such focus… You would think he’s a professional photographer with the amount of effort he’s putting into this.
I may not have a camera, but I’ll make sure to save this image in my head for the rest of my life.
I love Paris. And I love Paris with Jungkook even more.
I fucking hate Paris.
I huff out an irritated breath as I almost trip on the sidewalk for the fifth time.
“How many times have I told you to not wear heels when we’re going to be out all day?”
Jungkook’s comment doesn’t sound condemnatory. But after being on my feet all day and now having to walk the rest of the way back to our hotel because a moron couldn’t see the red light, I’m a little more sensitive than usual.
The accident wasn’t intense and dangerous, but after it hit the car Jungkook was in, our car also crashed into it. Now we’re all on our feet and walking to our hotel.
“You’re a boy, Jeon—”
“Really? Didn’t know. Thanks for the info.” He remarks with a shit-eating grin.
“… So I don’t expect you to understand that this outfit doesn’t go with anything but heels.”
I raise my voice over his annoying ass comment, with daggers shooting from my eyes as I walk a few steps ahead of him. D is also walking beside me, her head buried in her phone for the past two hours, talking to the managers and already working on our departure plans.
“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to give you piggyback ride. With all the shopping bags your majesty has dumped on me to carry.”
He complains as he points to the — just a few — shopping bags in his hands.
“I thought your mama raised a gentleman?” I raise an eyebrow as I turn my head back slightly.
“And I would gladly open doors and offer you help. But you’re making a workhorse out of me.”
“Jimin has been carrying your bags the whole time and you don’t hear a peep from him.” I mutter to D next to me. “I got stuck with the wrong Indigo member.”
“You know very well why he doesn’t make a peep, Vi.”
Jungkook calls out with a suggestive smiling tone.
His comment makes me giggle as I glance back at him, and that earns me an elbow in the side from Dionne.
“Can you two stop turning every conversation about us?” D says with a scowl. “I swear I will cancel your ticket and make you stuck in Paris for the rest of the tour, Jeon.”
We chuckle as we talk and tease, with Indigo’s bodyguards by our sides until we arrive at the hotel.
The first thing I do when I’m alone in my hotel room is to get rid of my clothes and run the bath. I’ve been waiting for a perfect time to enjoy the big bathtub this entire trip, and now is the perfect time.
I let the warm water run and fill the bathtub as I remove my makeup, wash my face and do a face mask as I gather my hair and hold it in place with a hairclip. I get rid of my robe as I get in the tub. I instantly let out a small sigh as the warm water and bubbles swallow my body.
I lean back my head and bathe in the blissful feeling. A warm, nice-smelling bath, slow R&B music playing next to me, and suddenly I forget all about the frustrations I felt this morning or yesterday.
Put me in an ethereal bath and an expensive facemask with scented candles and music, and I’ll ask Jungkook who?
I let my eyelids fall as I relax my body even more into the water. Pitch blackmess taking me in.
My eyes jerk open with the sound of my phone ringing, and I realize I’ve actually fallen asleep. I sit up as I reach for my phone and see Dionne’s name on my screen.
I check the time before I swipe to answer. I took a nap for only twenty minutes, but it felt deeper and more wonderful than any long sleep I’d gotten in the past few days.
“Yeah?” I answer D’s call.
“Why do you sound so high?” Dionne asks with a laugh.
“I fell asleep in the bathtub.”
She bursts into laughter.
“So, high.”
I chuckle.
“I was going to ask if you want to join us for dinner. We’re having dinner downstairs in ten minutes.”
I consider the idea.
“Actually… I think I’ll just order room service.”
I’m too tired to have dinner anywhere but on my bed.
“Okay then. Have fun getting high.” Dionne sends me a kiss over the phone before she hangs up.
I chuckle as I put my phone down. But unfortunately, I can’t stay in the bathtub anymore. The water is getting colder than what I’d like. I rinse off my body as I walk out of the tub and wrap my body in a soft warm bathrobe. I remove the face mask and let my hair down and free around me.
I walk into my room and look through my suitcase for something to wear.
In my lazy search, I pick a random underwear and a black oversized hoodie that used to belong to Jungkook. Now it belongs to me in a perfect cozy and comfortable fit, barely falling past my ass.
I order room service before I make myself comfortable on the bed and search for an episode of a sitcom on my laptop.
Just then, I hear a knock on the door.
They possibly couldn’t have brought up my order so soon. I get up from the bed and walk to the front door. My heart comes to life when I see it’s Jungkook again.
“You sure have a fondness for my hotel room door.” I joke with a smile as I let him in.
“D called me to join them for dinner, but she mentioned you’re staying in your room.”
He walks further into the room. Noticing his eyes on me, even though it seems innocent and nothing out of the ordinary, makes me realize that I’m standing in front of Jungkook in nothing but an underwear and his hoodie.
“Yeah… I’m too lazy for that right now.”
I let him make himself comfortable, not that he wouldn’t do that on his own, and walk to the bedroom and on my bed.
“I ordered room service just now. Do you want me to call them and order something for you?”
He walks to the side of the bed, where I am sitting and picks up the phone from the nightstand.
“It’s fine. I’ll just do that.”
I go back to my laptop as Jungkook adds his order to my room and makes himself comfortable on the end of my bed. He lies on his side while leaning his body on his right elbow. For a brief moment, I’m shamelessly distracted by the ink on his right arm and hand. The way they cover his veiny hands.
I wish that hand was on my—
Stop!
I avert my eyes on my laptop screen and keep them there.
He dangles his long legs off the side of my bed as he relaxes his body sideways on the end of my bed, facing me as I sit with my legs stretched out front of me, inches away from his thighs.
“What are you gonna watch?”
He asks lazily before he tiredly stretches his body.
“I don’t know. A sitcom?” I reply as I keep my focus on my laptop screen.
“Don’t you already know them all by heart?” He chuckles as he lets his head fall on the mattress.
“What’s your point?” I raise a brow.
I don’t get any replies from him. Just as I find an episode that I like, the laptop is slid away from me.
“Let’s watch a movie instead.”
He turns my laptop and starts messing with the screen.
“Jungkook.” I complain. “I didn’t let you inside my room to mess with my laptop.”
He ignores me as he searches for a movie.
I grunt as I give up.
“What do you want to watch?” I mutter.
“I don’t know.” He keeps his eyes on the screen. “Shall we watch this movie? It sounds interesting. It’s called Who Am I.”
I sigh.
“Just do whatever you want.”
I lean back on the head of the bed, watching him do as he pleases. And I let him. I would rather watch him here on my bed as we eat and watch a movie, just the two of us, than spend that time fighting him over what we watch.
Yeah… this is good enough for me.
He slides his body higher on the bed so he lies next to me as he adjusts the laptop between us so we both have the perfect angle.
Just like old times, when we used to watch everything on my old laptop together.
I love the feeling this déjà vu gives me.
Our room service arrives soon, and that’s when the movie becomes long forgotten. We slowly begin talking, and then we don’t stop. We don’t even talk about any particular important thing. Just what we always spend hours talking about. Nothing and everything.
“I’m actually thinking about getting a new camera.”
I take a bite with my fork as I look at him, completely ignoring the movie playing in front of us now.
“But why? Your camera looks just fine.”
Jungkook is still lying on his side and leaning on his elbow. He reaches his fork out to take a slice of my chocolate cake. I slap him on his hand.
He gives me a dirty look and reaches for my food instead.
“I’ve been thinking about getting a higher model.” He chews his food as he casually says while his eyes look down at the dishes on the bed. “And I kind of want to try the model myself first before I buy one to give as a gift.”
“Oh? Who do you want to give it to?”
I take another slice of my dessert.
“Airi.”
My fork remains suspended in the air as my entire body goes still. I move my eyes on him. He’s not looking at me. His eyes are on his food as he takes another bite.
“Oh?’
I don’t even know how the small sound leaves me. I’m pretty sure all the air has been locked in my lungs. Absolutely still and no movements as I stare at Jungkook. He’s actually thinking about giving Airi a big gift. And they’re not inexpensive. Very much the opposite.
Is her birthday coming up? Did he ask about her birthday and knows more personal details about her? Is he buying her an expensive gift just… because?
I mean, that’s who Jungkook is. He loves to shower his friends and loved ones with gifts whenever he can, not caring about the price.
The expensive perfume he bought me at the retailed price is the very example.
But him buying a random gift for Airi, who joined our team not that long ago, leaves a sour taste in my mouth, which I’m shameful to admit even to myself.
“Yeah. She had a different model of the camera, but it broke a while ago. I thought about gifting her a better model.” He looks up to me. “What do you think? Sounds like a nice gift for her?”
I blink a few times before I realize I’m still holding my fork mid-air. I lower it as I swallow and try to force out words.
“Ye… Yeah. That sounds like a very thoughtful gift.” My voice turns small. “I— is her birthday coming up or something?”
“No.” he shakes his head casually. “I’ve just really been wanting to give her some kind of gift. She mentioned the camera thing back when we were on the plane. And I thought that would be a good opportunity.”
I slowly nod my head with my eyes on Jungkook.
“Right… Yeah… That’s great.”
I fail to let a smile grow on my lips.
It’s stupid. I don’t want to feel so jealous. He’s a grown ass man, entitled to so whatever the fuck he pleases with his money. If he wants to buy someone a stupidly expensive gift, then he should. It’s not like he hasn’t given me a ton of gifts throughout the years.
But I think me feeling hurt and jealous has nothing to do with him buying a gift, and more to do with why he’s doing it. When he bought me — or any other friends — all of those gifts, there wasn’t any underlying meaning. He wasn’t trying to impress me. He didn’t buy those gifts while having romantic interest in me. He did that because he’s an amazing, kind-hearted friend.
Something I can’t claim to be the best at when it comes to him.
Especially since I know how nice, kind and amazing Airi is — even though it pains me to admit it even in my own head. They’re both amazing people. And I can’t confidently say the same about myself when sometimes I secretly wish Jungkook would just forget about his crush, or Airi had never joined our team.
“You think?”
Jungkook looks up at me with his round, sparkly and shining eyes.
His eyes make me melt and turn my heart into a soft mush. I might go weak in the knees when I see Jungkook half-naked. But nothing about him matches the power his beautiful doe eyes have on me.
“Yeah.” I smile weakly. “I think she would be thrilled.” I say softly.
A smile grows on his lips before reaching his eyes too.
He turns his head to the movie still playing on my laptop. He starts eating before he speaks and starts another irrelevant conversation.
Me? I drown deep in my thoughts as I feel the heavy pain on my heart. Almost like a ton of weight pressuring down on my chest.
But I don’t let anything out. I already feel like a shitty friend for him. I don’t want him to doubt or second guess his idea for a gift when he seems so excited about the idea of surprising Airi with such a thoughtful gesture.
I bottle it all in, saving them for the moment Jungkook leaves my room. I can let the ruthless emotions consume me then.
Jungkook doesn’t leave my room any time soon. He stays there, in my bedroom, on my bed. He teases me. Frustrates me. Enjoys messing with me as he lets out genuine soul-warming laughs.
By the end of the night when it gets late and he decides to go to his room and pack the last few pieces before getting some rest, I forget the heavy weight which was crushing my heart earlier. The way he makes me laugh and treasure every moment I get to spend with him does that to me.
And just like every time for the past many years, Jungkook Jeon breaks my heart in an oblivious action, only for him to put all the broken pieces back together by acting like himself.
Ironically, he’s the source of my pain, and the cure for it.
But as I say goodnight to him and lie in my bed between my covers, hugging his hoodie on my body and accidently smelling the trail of perfume he left on my sheets, I wonder how many times you can break something and put it back together, before it’s impossible to mend it again.
Before the tiny little broken pieces start to turn into sand and dust.
Can you really heal a broken heart that has been through that much?
a/n 2 : I don't have any particular thing to say, except I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I would love to read your feedback if you have any.
And don't forget to check my wip post bc I have revealed something so exciting (at least for me) in there! Stay safe and pretty. 😘
