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Iris | ch 6 (jjk)

☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...

☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter has mature content)

☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff

☆warnings: mentions of what happened in ch 5 and 4, alcohol, cigarettes/smoking, sara mentions, cursing, a panic attack, sasaengs, explicit content: nipple play, they're teases, praise, choking, jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, balls play, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), ass slapping, creampie

☆word count: 14.8k

☆a/n: i hope you like this new chapter <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am

Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, July 19th

The stadium is buzzing with excitement. So is your inner teenager, who never got to see the band you loved so much in concert before. Yet this time around feels strange, different than you would have expected it to feel as a teenager.

Maybe because you’re in a private suite with Jennie, Mingyu, Eunwoo, and a couple of others you don’t know. Even Seokjin’s wife is here, and she looks a little shy, like she’s not comfortable with the people around her. Which you reckon, she might not be.

You too were completely starstruck when you met all of them, a few months ago. And from what you’ve gathered, Minha is fully Korean, and she doesn’t speak English. Indeed, when you tried to talk to her earlier, feeling bad for her, she just looked at you with a pretty smile on her lips and not an ounce of recognition in her eyes.

Thankfully, Seokjin’s brother arrives before the concert starts, and she smiles at his sight. They sit together at the back, ready to watch with a glass of wine in hand.

“Let’s take pictures before the concert starts,” Jennie suggests next to you.

You nod, glancing towards the stage.

You haven’t seen Jungkook yet. Not since you came back to Korea, and especially not since you… masturbated together. He apologized for it the next day, and though you reassured him and told him that you wanted to do it too, it hasn’t happened again.

You think he’s been too shy to head that way once more, and you haven’t had the courage to do it either.

You grab your phone, handing it to Mingyu so that he takes a picture of you and Jennie. You end up taking multiple of them, doing different poses as instructed by Mingyu, who seems to be having way too much fun with it. And then, right when you’re done and moving to grab your phone again, his gaze widens.

“What?” you ask as you try to take your phone.

He raises it over his head, way out of reach for you. “You’ve been texting JK?”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Jungkook’s name, and you stand on your tiptoes to try to grab your phone again. It’s to no avail, as Mingyu is much taller than you, and you take a step back, folding your arms on your chest.

“It’s none of your business,” you grumble, cheeks burning.

Mingyu chuckles. “Don’t be mad,” he says, finally handing you your phone. “Just didn’t think you guys talked.”

“Why?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

Mingyu casts a look to the side, where Jennie is currently taking a selfie, looking effortlessly pretty like she always does. The music in the stadium is loud enough that she doesn’t seem to have heard what Mingyu said, so she offers no salvation.

“He’s been a dick to you,” Mingyu replies matter-of-factly. “I thought he didn’t like you.”

You didn’t expect him to be so blunt, and you just stare at him, blinking twice.

“Oh,” you let out once you’ve recovered from the shock.

“You know what I mean though, right?” Mingyu says, and he looks apologetic, sheepish, like he’s just realized he might have come off as rude.

And the thing is, you do, because you thought the same thing, too.

Until that party at Jungkook’s place…

“I think he was just shy,” you carefully say.

Mingyu chuckles. “JK might be an introvert, but he’s not usually like that.”

It hurts. You don’t know why it does, but it hurts, and you’re not quite sure about Jungkook’s intentions anymore. Not that you were before, but if his best friend is saying that…

There has to be some truth to it, right?

“No?” you press, not knowing what else to say.

Mingyu shakes his head no. “Nah.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and you worry at your bottom lip, before asking, “So you think I shouldn’t talk to him?”

“Huh.” Mingyu shrugs, pursing his lips. “I just wouldn’t get attached if I were you.”

Your heart sinks in your chest, and you nod once. “Noted.”

Jennie decides this moment to pop back in, but you’re distracted, looking down at your phone to see what Jungkook sent you.

[7:43 pm] Jungkook: i hope you have fun tonight☺️

Before Mingyu said anything, that message would have made butterflies spread in your stomach and in your chest. Right now, all it does is fill you with a sense of dread you really don’t like, and you turn off your phone.

Better to see how he acts with you when you talk after the concert. Indeed, you’re all having drinks at a private event after, as they’ve rented a club for the night.

“Everything okay?” Jennie asks after she’s sent Mingyu away to get a drink for you and her.

Lychee martinis, as she’s become obsessed with them since you’ve made her taste one.

“Yeah,” you say, meeting her gaze and offering her a smile that you hope is convincing. “Just excited for the concert.”

“Mingyu said something, didn’t he?” she asks.

Of course she would know. Indeed, she’s the one that gave your phone number to Jungkook after all, as she’s told you. Even though you haven’t told her exactly what happened at the party, she’s very well aware that Jungkook wanted to talk to you.

“He said I shouldn’t get attached to Jungkook,” you admit.

She rolls her eyes, slightly shaking her head. “Don’t listen to him. I think Jungkook just hasn’t told him anything. Mingyu’s always been oblivious.”

The jab makes you snort, relieving some of the tension you felt. “Well, I hope you’re right.”

Jennie’s expression slowly changes, a smirk taking over her features. “So you’re admitting something is going on between the two of you?”

“Girl,” you sternly say, stretching your lips in a thin line. She just laughs before you add, “You know we’re talking.”

“I know.” Her smile turns more genuine, the mischief fading away. “He talks to Tae, and Tae talks to me.”

Your gaze widens, and you gulp around a sudden nervous lump in your throat.

Does she know what happened after the wedding?

“He does?” you say, and you hope she can’t see how the colours probably drained from your face. “What does he say?”

“Not much?” Jennie says like a question. “Just that you’ve been talking, and that he’s glad you’re here tonight.”

There they are. The butterflies you should have felt earlier. They slowly swarm in, spreading through your stomach and chest. You think some even spill in your brain, making you feel a bit dizzy.

A good dizzy, though.

“Aw,” you let out. “That’s… sweet?”

“It is.” Jennie glances to the side as Mingyu comes back with your drinks in his hands. “He doesn’t usually talk about girls.” And then she glares at Mingyu. “Asshole.”

He just stands there, eyes a little wide. “What did I do?”

She grabs your drinks, giving you yours. “Leave Jungkook and Y/n alone.”

“I didn’t do anything!” he claims, raising his hands in defence. “I can’t be the only one that noticed he’s been a dick to her.”

“He apologized!” Jennie replies. “And they talked it out and he asked me for her number, so leave them alone.”

Mingyu’s arms fall at his sides. “You’re telling me you believe he’s moved on from Sara?”

“Hopefully,” Jennie says. “It’s about time.”

“He was watching her stream last night.”

It’s like a bomb dropped in the room. Jennie’s jaw goes slack as her mouth falls open but no words come out, and you just stand there like your heart isn’t squeezing in your chest like a lemon in a lemon press.

It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t. You and Jungkook aren’t anything to each other at the moment. You’ve hooked up once – twice with the nudes – and you have no clue if it will lead anywhere anyway.

But he lied last night. Or maybe omitted telling you the truth. Because he said he was up late because he was anxious about the concert, and practicing some more in his home studio. Not because he was up watching his ex stream.

“You’re fucking with me,” Jennie says, and she sounds just as displeased as you are, if not more.

Mingyu nods. “I walked in on him watching her,” he says.

He was staying at Jungkook’s place last night, for a reason you haven’t been made privy of.

You take a long sip of your martini, and both Jennie and Mingyu look at you. Jennie looks concerned, and Mingyu seems a little satisfied, knowing he’s proved a point.

“What?” you ask as they keep looking at you, not saying anything.

“Are you okay?” Jennie asks.

You shrug. “I’m fantastic.” You swallow, your throat still feeling drier than it should. “We don’t owe each other anything. We’ve barely even started talking.”

Yet it feels like a bad way to start something with someone. And even though you’d want to talk it out more with your friends, the lights in the stadium dim, and the crowd goes so wild you worry that your ears might start bleeding.

The energy is contagious, though, and you let it carry you as you all turn to watch the stage. They all file out in a single line, backlit with bright white screens that make it hard to distinguish anything. You don’t even think you can recognize which one of them is Jungkook, but then they split and head towards their own instruments, and you follow the silhouette that heads to the drums.

He looks tiny, over there. Like a small ant that lives in an entirely different universe than you do. It’s almost as if you can see the precipice between you and him, between the author and the musician, your lives having collided somehow.

Yet you feel distant. So distant, as he plays a short string of sounds that makes the screams in the stadium increase in loudness even more. It’s followed by a few guitar chords, and then a short piano solo. Then it’s the bass, and a saxophone, and the lights suddenly switch off. It leaves a strange afterimage on the darkness that follows, though it’s short lived.

Jungkook hits the cymbals once, twice, thrice, and red light shines on the group as they immediately start playing.

Your eyes trail to the giant screen as it shows all of the members of the group one after the other, and you feel like your heart momentarily stops when Jungkook appears, looking handsome as ever in his black dress shirt. He’s smiling, looking out at the crowd, his eyes shining from the stage lights.

As he finds the camera, you feel like he’s staring right into your soul. You almost believe he is – it’s like time stretches and the music pauses, and you force yourself to look away, eyes dropping to your drink.

You finish it in three long gulps, and Jennie pulls on your arm.

“Please enjoy the concert still,” she says in your ear over the music. “I’ll talk to him after.”

You sigh deeply. “I’ll talk to him myself.”

Jennie remains silent for a few seconds, and then she gives you a nod. “Alright. But I’ll still tell him he’s a little shit.”

You know she will, because that is half of her love language when it comes to her close friends like Jungkook and Mingyu. It’s almost like watching siblings interact, which you reckon they might feel like they are after so many years of knowing each other.

But for now, you push thoughts of this all aside, trying to focus on the music. It isn’t too hard when the second song they play is your all-time favourite from them, and then your inner teenager takes a hold of you, making you scream the lyrics at the top of your lungs along with Jennie.

And Seokjin on the stage, of course.

They play four songs straight, and you’re buzzing with energy – and perhaps a little anxiety from all the times Jungkook appeared on the screen, too – by the time they have a short interlude, where each of them address the crowd.

Jungkook goes last, and you take a deep breath as the camera moves from Jimin to him.

“Hi Seoul,” he says, grinning wide.

He’s ethereal in the stage lights, his skin looking like it’s shining from within. His eyes are sparkling too, and you think you can’t quite breathe for a moment.

This guy sent you nudes just a few weeks ago. And apparently he’s still hung up over his ex. Who was fucking someone else at a party not too long ago.

You see the mess coming at you, yet you know it’s too late for you to stop. Because, as you watch him on the big screen, your heart rate picks up, your soul reaching forward.

You’re in deep shit.

*****

Jungkook is having the time of his life. He’s missed performing, missed feeling the crowd as he plays and occasionally sings. He missed the stage outfits and the lights and the makeup process and everything that makes up his job, but mostly his passion. Because this is it. This is what he was born to do – he was born to perform.

They rush out of the stage for a short interlude, and his heart is beating frantically, like it’s going to leap from his chest from the happiness coursing through his veins. They have to do a quick outfit change, which he reckons is pretty much useless in his case because no one will be able to tell when he’s sitting, but he still complies.

He still has three minutes before they go back on stage when he’s changed, so he drinks water, grabbing his phone where he left it at the vanity where they did his makeup. He frowns as he notices his notifications are void of you. He’d expected you to have said something by now, but you haven’t said anything for a little while, even before the concert started.

He hopes you’re here. He knows you’re supposed to be, but the fact that you aren’t replying is stressing him out.

“Ready?” Taehyung asks him, and Jungkook looks up from his phone, putting it back where he took it.

“Let’s go.”

He glances at his phone one last time, but he hasn’t received anything in the last two seconds, and he doubts you’ll send something anyway.

So he follows Taehyung, joining the other members where they are waiting for the cue to return to the scene. Namjoon gives them all a thumbs-up, smiling wide.

“We got this.”

He doesn’t have time for more encouraging words before the cue is given and they run back out on the stage, where the crowd erupts in wild screams that would probably make Jungkook’s ears bleed if he weren’t wearing his in-ears. It’s energizing, wildly so, and he can’t help but look towards the suites.

As if he’d be able to see you in the distance.

But then it’s music and the crowd and the lights, and you slowly slip out of his mind, like everything does whenever he performs.

It’s just him, the drums, and the occasional line he sings in the mic. He lets the rhythm take over him, and it guides him through the second part of the concert, up until they reach the interlude before the encore.

And as the crowd screams on and on to get them to come back out, he tries to check his phone, but he’s pulled into a group hug by Seokjin, and he runs out of time to check.

Just three more songs, he tells himself as he has to return to the stage.

They’re the three longest songs of his life. Or at least it feels like it, as they play the chorus of the last song again and again, the fans singing with them.

It gives him chills. It’s like, for a moment, the world outside is put on pause and it’s just the lyrics and the music, put on hold to hear the crowd singing better. He takes one of his in-ears out then, and the chills spread through his chest, bringing tears to his eyes.

The members are crying, too. After years of not performing together, the emotions are running high, and he truly does forget about you then. It really is just this moment, and the years that brought them here.

He remembers when they were teenagers with a dream, when they started learning their instruments. They’d been hired by a failing company trying to rewrite the music scene in Korea with a boy group that would not dance, but would play instruments. Not that it didn’t exist already, but in a land of pop groups with elaborate dancing, groups such as theirs were sparse.

They used to practice in a garage, and almost no one showed up to their first concert. It was them and a hundred fans that they almost all knew by name back then, because they were friends and family and people from their high schools.

Jungkook’s first girlfriend had been there. She’d believed in him, pushed him to pursue his dreams, but their young love didn’t survive the years and the rising fame. She broke up with him when they turned eighteen, and then he had years of sleeping around, of enjoying what his fame allowed him before he met Sara.

All throughout those years, they’d broken records and sold out shows and stadiums and they’d toured all around the world. Jungkook went to countries he never imagined he’d visit one day, met people from all sorts of different cultures and backgrounds. And then it was military service, years away from this group, from his family.

He’s crying. He’s crying now, the weight of the years behind him, behind them, hitting like a truck. They’re all crying, and they hug while the fans cheer on and on. And Jungkook remains emotional, even as they finally leave the stage, and the announcement of their album comeback lights up the giant screens.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks as Jungkook wipes his cheeks once they’re backstage.

Jungkook takes a shuddering breath in. “Yes,” he lets out, and he laughs. “Yes. Just happy to be back.”

Yoongi smiles, his own eyes shining silver. “Me too, man. Me too.”

The staff backstage congratulates them for the concert, and they serve cake to everyone, and Jungkook just stays with the members, absorbing the moment. Taking it all in, because who knows how many more of these moments they will have?

They’re lucky for this life. So, so lucky.

“To BTS,” Namjoon says, and he raises a glass of champagne.

Jungkook blinks, and he’s holding a glass too, and they clink their glasses together, the seven of them, as cameras film them to make a small movie for the fans. It’s mostly because of those cameras that Jungkook doesn’t have access to his phone until almost an hour later, when they are finally released to go to the afterparty at the club the company rented.

Luckily, they have time to shower and change at the venue before they head to the club, and so Jungkook can finally check his phone. He’s received multiple texts while they were performing, and he scrolls through all of them, expecting to see your name…

But all he sees is Sara. Sara, who congratulated him for the concert. And it hurts so bad he just deletes the message, choosing to pretend she didn’t say anything.

Especially not after the way she treated him the last time they saw each other, at that party where you were, too.

Jungkook finishes scrolling through the messages, and his heart sinks in his chest, lower than he expected it would tonight.

You haven’t said anything. It’s so strange after how much you’ve been texting over the last few weeks, and Jungkook rakes his brain, trying to figure out what might have happened. But he’s got no time for that. Not when they’re rushed to the afterparty, and he’s swept up in the flashes of the paparazzis and in the drinks that are handed to him the second they walk in.

It’s chaotic, and he’s high on the concert and now getting drunk. It’s an out-of-body experience, much like performing was, but different this time. He doesn’t think he knows what this performance is, yet this feels like one, and he reckons he doesn’t know what he’s doing. Because he scans the main room of the club they’re in, looking for you, but all he sees are countless faces of people that want to celebrate him, and he’s got no way of finding you.

It occurs to Jungkook that he might be starting to panic. He’s suffered a lot with anxiety post-performance in the past – something about the high leaving him fully exhausted – and though he didn’t expect it to happen tonight of all moments, it makes sense that it does.

After all, he hasn’t performed in a long time, and he’s pretty sure he did mess up at least twice.

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jimin says in front of him.

Jungkook raises his head, meeting his friend’s gaze.

“Everything okay?”

Jungkook gulps. “I think I need some air.”

Jimin nods, understanding lighting up his features. He’s also been prone to panic attacks such as the one Jungkook realizes he’s starting to experience, and so Jimin knows what to do. He pulls Jungkook behind him until they’re out of the club, in an alley that’s been closed off to allow the party-goers to come outside to smoke without paparazzis seeing them.

There are currently two people Jungkook recognizes from the concert’s production team there, and they must see something on his face because they immediately throw their cigarettes on the ground in a puddle of water that Jungkook hopes is rain even though he doesn’t think it rained today. They then walk back inside, and Jungkook watches them go before his gaze slides back to Jimin.

“Breathe,” Jimin says as he claps Jungkook on the shoulder. “Tonight was a lot.”

“Shit,” Jungkook lets out. He runs a hand through his hair, and he blinks a few times. “It was amazing, though.”

Jimin smiles. “It was. You did great.”

“Ugh,” Jungkook groans. “Hobi looked like he wanted to kill me during Fire.”

“Hobi always looks like he wants to kill everyone during Fire,” Jimin points out.

It’s true. It’s one of their most musically-challenging songs, every instrument having its own tricky part. It’s also one of Jungkook’s favourite songs to play, but he knows he made a mistake during Hoseok’s keyboard solo.

“Yeah,” Jungkook lets out. He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “This is going to take a moment to get adjusted to again.”

“It is,” Jimin agrees. “For all of us. But I promise, you did amazing tonight.”

Jungkook just smiles at his older friend, thankful for the compliment. And then he takes a deep breath, looking up to the sky. There doesn’t seem to be any clouds up above, but the city lights hide the stars. So it’s just a void up above, but it’s a void that helps Jungkook with feeling smaller, with feeling the way his feet are grounded and the way the air coats his lungs with every inspiration.

“Fuck,” he curses when he’s sure the anxiety attack is pushed back. “Thank you for coming outside with me.”

Right as he says the words, the door opens, and Namjoon and some of his friends from the army walk out.

“Hey!” Namjoon greets them, and he daps them up, before pulling a cigarette pack out of the pocket of his jeans. He hands one to Jimin, who makes a disgusted face, and then hands it to Jungkook, who takes it willingly.

“I’m going to head back inside,” Jimin says, eyes trailing to Jungkook. “You gonna be okay?”

Jungkook nods. “All good.”

Jimin claps him on the shoulder again, and then he’s walking back into the club, and Jungkook puts the cigarette between his lips as Namjoon raises his lighter to offer him fire. The smoke is acrid as Jungkook inhales, but he immediately feels himself relaxing. And though he doesn’t really know Namjoon’s friends, he still stays with them for a little while, just listening to their conversation. He feels like a creep when he finishes his cigarette and still stands there though, so he tells his leader that he’ll see him later, and then he too goes back inside, welcomed with loud music and booming bass the second he steps in.

He heads to the bar, keen on ordering a whiskey on ice to chase the taste of the cigarette away, and he’s pushing through the crowd when the hair on his body stands up, and he raises his gaze.

There you are. At the bar, looking pretty as ever, chatting away with Mingyu. It’s just the two of you, and Mingyu wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug. You don’t resist, and Jungkook stops in his tracks to watch.

He’s a deer, frozen in headlights, but then you turn. You turn and you see him through the crowd and Jungkook feels calm for the first time this evening.

He’s been waiting for you. For the last three weeks, he’s just been waiting to see you again, and his heart finds a steady beat that makes it so much easier to breathe. Especially as you smile, and you seem so shy, so precious, and so, so different from what you were the first few times Jungkook had the chance to see you.

His throat is dry. He swallows, and then he resumes his walk towards the bar, towards you, and Mingyu catches sight of him too. But Jungkook only has eyes for you – it’s like the whole bar faded away when he finally saw you.

“Hey,” he says as he stops in front of you.

You lean back against the bar, looking up at him with those shiny eyes of yours that pictures can’t do justice to. “Hey Jungkook.”

He might die right here right now. The way you say his name…

Flashes of the pictures and videos you sent him go through his mind, and he feels his cheeks burning. Thankfully, he’s wearing enough makeup to cover it, and he offers you a small smile, still ignoring Mingyu.

“Okayyyy,” Mingyu lets out. “I’ll let you guys talk.” He raps his knuckles on the bar once, and then he looks at you. “Just remember what I told you.”

You glance at him, giving him a short nod of acknowledgement, but your attention is quick to return to Jungkook, and he feels like he’s winning.

He doesn’t know what he’s winning, but it feels amazing.

“Did you like the concert?” he asks.

You smile. It doesn’t show your teeth, but it does reveal traces of dimples in your cheeks and fuck, Jungkook really wishes it was just you and him tonight.

“I loved it,” you answer. “It was better than anything I could have imagined.”

He almost drops to his knees at your praise. He doesn’t know why it hits him so hard, but he feels like only your opinion mattered tonight.

Not even Sara, and that stupid text she sent.

You look to the side, just some way behind Jungkook, and he looks over his shoulder to catch Jennie looking. And she looks furious, clenching her jaw, and Jungkook feels like he’s in trouble, though he doesn’t know why.

“Thank you,” he tells you as he turns to look at you again, dismissing Jennie because he truly does not have the energy to deal with her right now. “I’m really happy you were there to see it.”

You just smile, and the silence feels a little awkward, which he reckons was to be expected after what happened over text messages But he takes it in stride – he’s been feeling a lot more comfortable when it comes to you now that he’s gotten to know you better, even if it was only over texts. So he steps closer to the bar, grabbing the barmaid’s attention. She’s currently making someone else’s drink – she’s serving the girl that he saw with Yoongi while they were recording the album – and she gives him a nod to acknowledge him.

“How’s it been to be back in Seoul?” he asks as he waits for the barmaid to come to take his order.

“Honestly,” you start, “it’s been great. I’ve been loving my life here more than I realized.”

Jungkook smiles. “The city has its charms.”

“It’s the people that really make it charming,” you reply with a twinkle in your eyes that makes Jungkook think you mean more than just the people.

That makes him think you mean him, actually.

“That makes sense,” he replies. “We’re pretty great, aren’t we?”

You laugh, and Jungkook is not sure he’s ever made you laugh before, and it’s so addictive he makes a promise to himself to always try to make you laugh. Because when you laugh, it’s like the sun is shining from within you, and you steal his breath away.

Though he thinks you’ve been stealing his breath away since the first time he laid eyes on you. That’s probably why he was so uncomfortable around you at the beginning, because he’s never really experienced that with anyone before.

“Mmh, not all of you,” you joke.

Jungkook chuckles. “Wow, I’m wounded.”

You just smile, your eyes sparkling, and Jungkook has to look away to preserve some of his sanity. To his luck, the barmaid walks over to him then, and he orders his whiskey before glancing at you.

“What do you want to drink?” he asks.

“Lychee martini,” you answer.

He nods, and he gives your order to the barmaid too, and then he turns to face you as she gets the drinks ready.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments you.

Pink splashes on your cheeks as your gaze drops down. “Thank you.”

You really do. You’re wearing jeans with some sparkles on them, and your shirt is open in the back, with a cleavage that’s hanging a little lower than people usually dare to do here in Seoul, though it’s nothing indecent. Your hair is also half up half down, and your bangs frame your features prettily. Your makeup is light, just enough to accentuate your features, and Jungkook smiles as you meet his gaze again.

There’s a short silence, and his heart does a weird thing in his chest as he holds your gaze. It’s like he’s falling forward while staying in place and, fuck, he might need a moment to collect himself.

“Congrats on the concert,” a man says in Korean behind him, and Jungkook turns to see his older brother standing there.

“What the fuck?” Jungkook lets out, and his brother opens his arms, and they hug tightly. “When did you get to Seoul?”

“We all were at the concert,” Junghyun says, and he glances at you.

“This is Y/n,” Jungkook quickly introduces you in English. “She’s…” he trails off, not knowing what to introduce you as, which is stupid because he’s aware you technically are nothing to him…

Yet.

“A friend,” you complete. “Nice to meet you.”

“My brother, Junghyun,” Jungkook says, motioning at his brother. “Mom and dad are here too?”

“Not at this club, no,” Junghyun says. “But they were at the concert, and mom is probably still crying about it.”

Jungkook grabs his phone out of his pocket, and he goes through his text messages again. He didn’t see earlier as he was just searching for your name, but his mother did text him, and he feels guilty for not noticing before. He opens the conversation, quickly replying to her, and then he puts his phone away.

“You guys should have told me, I would have gotten you a suite.”

“You know they prefer to experience the concert in the crowd,” Junghyun points out.

He motions behind Jungkook, and Jungkook turns to see that your drinks are ready. He grabs yours, giving it to you with a smile, and he almost chokes on air as your fingers slightly graze his as you grab the glass. Electricity shoots up his arms and through his spine, and you must have felt it too, because you let out a small ‘Oh’, that makes Jungkook want to tell his brother to leave.

But Jungkook doesn’t say anything, because he hasn’t seen him in a while, and he doesn’t want to make things awkward. So, he asks his brother how he’s been, and Junghyun tells him about work, and about his fiancée, who remained in Busan to take care of her grandmother. You sip your lychee martini through the conversation, though Junghyun keeps switching to Korean, and Jungkook doubts you can keep up. He makes the effort to try and always reply in English, but he can’t help himself sometimes.

“And what about you?” Junghyun asks you, and your gaze widens, like you’re surprised by the question. “What do you do for work?”

You clear your throat, glancing at Jungkook before replying, “I’m a writer.”

“Oh?” Junghyun lets out. “What do you write?”

“Books. Romance books.”

“She’s pretty popular,” Jungkook jumps in. “She’s just finished writing a book that takes place here in Korea.”

“That’s fun,” Junghyun says. “Did you find Korea inspiring?”

You meet Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds, and he swears you’re smiling for him when you say, “I did.”

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. Or three. And he hides his dumb smile by drinking his whiskey, the bitter taste warming his throat.

“I’ll be on the lookout for it,” Junghyun says. He glances down at his watch on his wrist, and then looks at Jungkook. “I only came to congratulate you quickly,” he says in Korean. “But I have to go. We should have dinner before we go back to Busan.”

“When are you going back?” Jungkook asks.

“Next Wednesday.”

“What about Monday?”

Junghyun nods. “Yeah, that should work. I’d say tomorrow, but…” He slides his gaze to you. “I bet you’ll be busy.”

Jungkook chuckles, nodding his head with a lot more confidence than he feels. “I might be.”

“Good luck,” Junghyun says, pulling him in a quick hug. “Bye, Y/n,” he says when he pulls away. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” you return the sentiment, and then Junghyun gives Jungkook one last nod before walking away.

For a second, Jungkook wonders how he even managed to get on the guest list for the party, but he assumes one of the members must have helped. Junghyun is in good terms with all of them after all.

“I wasn’t expecting to meet your brother,” you say next to him, and Jungkook looks at you, laughing lightly.

“Yeah sorry about that,” he says. He takes a sip of whiskey. “I didn’t even know he was coming.”

“It must have been a good surprise for you.” You smile, and then you drink your own drink.

Jungkook nods. “Yeah. My parents came to the concert too.”

“Oh? They weren’t in the suite.”

“Nah, they wanted the crowd vibe.”

“Ah, they wanted the real experience, I see.” Your eyes spark softly. “Can’t blame them.”

Jungkook’s gaze slightly narrows. “Are you telling me you want me to get you regular tickets next time?”

“Next time?” you repeat, and he doesn’t like that you seem surprised.

Of course, he wants you to come to his next concerts. Hell, he’d want you in the crowd at every single one of them, which he reckons might become a problem.

He’s getting attached to you, and really fast.

“Yeah,” he lets out with a short nod. “Unless you don’t want to come.”

“Oh no, I would love it,” you reassure him. “I used to be a big fan, remember?”

How could he forget?

“Well, I’ll get you the best seats in the stadium next time,” he promises.

You grin, nodding your head approvingly. “Perfect.”

Jungkook just holds your gaze for a few seconds, and he can hear his heart beating in his chest so loud it almost covers the music in the club. It’s entrancing, and he feels the need to have you to himself.

So, even though that’s not what he originally meant to say, he can’t help the next words that come out of his mouth.

“Do you want to go somewhere quiet?”

*****

You haven’t been able to stop thinking about what Mingyu said when you were in the suite before the concert. It’s been running around in your head as Jungkook called a driver to drive you to his place, as he suggested.

But Jungkook looked so happy to see you, and has been so sweet since you’ve started talking tonight that you can’t reconcile him with someone that’s hung up over his ex. Especially not after you met his brother, and Jungkook seemed so… happy to be able to introduce you to him.

And the way he seemed proud about the fact you wrote a book that’s set in Seoul…

He’s confusing. Or maybe it’s Mingyu that was unnecessarily confusing, planting a seed of doubt where you didn’t need to have one.

After all, you and Jungkook have been texting constantly since your cousin’s wedding. He tells you all about his days, asks you about yours, and you’ve even talked about your families a lot. Which is why it felt weird to see his brother – you know how much Jungkook values his brother, and you really didn’t want to disappoint.

Which, you reckon you will ask Jennie if she knows any good Korean tutors, because you need to be able to speak better Korean. You could barely follow the conversation earlier, and if it wasn’t for Jungkook talking in English most of the time, you would have been entirely lost.

“After you,” Jungkook says, motioning in front of him at the world outside the club’s door.

It occurs to you that there are paparazzi just waiting to take pictures, and you already can see the pictures on the covers of every tabloid tomorrow. It doesn’t seem to matter to Jungkook, and you just hold his gaze for a few seconds, before nodding once.

“Let’s go,” you say, and then you step outside, and Jungkook is right behind you.

It flashes white. You think you go partly blind, and if it wasn’t for the driver waiting for you at the car and opening the door for you, you think you might have just made a fool of yourself trying to figure out where the door handle was. But luckily, the driver ushers you in the car, and Jungkook gets in behind you. The door shuts, and the darkness that follows is almost just as blinding.

You blink a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the dim lighting as the driver walks around the car to get in the driver’s seat. You feel Jungkook’s arm and thigh pressing against your side, and your heart races in your chest.

You know you have to talk to him about what Mingyu said, but you just don’t know how to approach the subject. Especially not as he leans against the car door so that he can look at you better.

“Please don’t judge my house, I haven’t had time to clean in a few days,” he says.

You chuckle, surprised that he even worries about that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him.

The car starts moving, but your attention remains on Jungkook. On the way he’s looking at you and you only, and your heart strains in your chest.

Why does he have to be hung up over his ex?

“You really do look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook whispers, and it’s barely audible over the sound of the music that the driver just put on.

Your cheeks burn. “Thank you.”

Jungkook reaches for you, but his hand stops midway, his fingers curling in a fist that he drops on his thigh. He looks down as he opens his hand, and you glance at the tattoos on his skin.

“It must have hurt,” you let out.

Jungkook looks up, confused. “Huh?”

Your blush deepens, or at least it feels like it does. “The tattoos,” you clarify, and you point at his hand.

Bolder than him, you reach for him, tracing the tattoos with your finger. They’re letters, representing the name of his group’s fanbase, ARMY. Jungkook doesn’t say anything as you trace the two first letters. You think he tenses, going rigid, and you wonder if you did the wrong thing.

When you look up to meet his darkened gaze, you know it isn’t what it is. You can almost see the tether he’s putting on himself, trying to resist… something.

Or at least you think that that is what it is. Because he seems like he’s barely breathing, looking at you through his lashes like you’re the center of the universe.

Hell, when he looks at you like that, you reckon you might be.

“Did it?” you ask, and you sound a lot more breathless than you thought you were.

Maybe because it feels like there’s a rope between you and Jungkook, and it’s pulled taut. You’re a second away from falling over the edge, and you don’t know where that would lead you.

“Hurt?” he asks, as if to confirm.

All you can do is nod, wetting your lips. It attracts his gaze, and he looks down at your mouth, his eyes growing even darker, ravenous.

“A little bit,” he replies, his voice low. “But it was worth it.”

You trace the M, and you wonder if he can tell how your hand is slightly shaking. “It’s pretty.”

He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to look up at him to say something. When you do, your gaze snatches in his, getting stuck in the dark depths that inhabit his eyes. It feels like falling forward, like he pulled on the taut rope to pull you in, and all you can hope is that he’s ready to catch you.

He turns his hand, palm up, and your finger hovers over him for a few seconds before he reaches up, grabbing your hand. It’s awkward for a second, but then he interlaces his fingers with yours, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. It feels like a lightning bolt went up your arm, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“I’m glad I get to see you tonight,” Jungkook whispers, his voice dark and low, husky.

It’s like a sensual caress on your senses, and your body tingles.

“Me too,” you reply.

“Been thinking about you so much,” he admits, and you wonder if it’s a truth he wanted to say aloud. Because he seems taken aback by his own words, and he clears his throat. “I was looking forward to getting to talk to you in person.”

You chuckle lightly. “Yeah, we haven’t done a lot of that before.”

“It’s my fault, really.” He tilts his head to the side, and you watch as the streetlights coat his skin in orange gold for a few seconds while he seems to be looking for the right thing to say. “I’m really sorry about that, you know?”

“You don’t have to apologize about it again,” you reassure him, and a shot of warmth runs up and down your spine as you add, “You apologized for that plenty the last time I saw you.”

When he was knuckles deep in you, pulling one of the most mindblowing orgasms out of you like it was nothing. You’d run away like the coward you are, and today you wonder what might have happened had you stayed.

“Yeah?” he lets out.

You nod as your throat goes dry, and you almost choke, though you manage to stop it at a gulp. “Yeah.”

He wets his lips, his tongue toying with his piercings, and it’s your turn to look down at his mouth. “What if I want to apologize some more tonight?”

You’re slowly turning molten. Like lava spurting out of a volcano. And you’re not sure if you’ll make it out alive.

“Then I’d say you should take me out on a date first,” you tease.

He smiles. A grin that splits his face open like you’ve just offered him the world, and you reckon he might just like the challenge in your words.

Jeon Jungkook seems like the kind of man that likes a challenge.

“I’ll take you out on a date,” he says like a promise, his grin turning into a softer smile.

You’re smiling too. It’s warm, gentle, like the glow of the spring sun on your face. And you wonder why it is that it was weird with him before, when this feels like the most natural thing you’ve ever experienced.

The rest of the car ride is spent with Jungkook asking you about your time back home, as if you didn’t talk every day while you were there. He seems genuinely interested, remembering things you told him that you don’t even remember, and it’s so sweet it tastes like candy on your tongue.

It’s sweet, and so, so treacherous considering the ex he’s hung up over.

The car drives down the boulevard on which you live, and you look towards your building, motioning at it.

“I live right there,” you tell Jungkook.

He looks where you’re pointing, eyebrows slightly raising in surprise. “For real?”

You nod, and he chuckles.

“We’re practically neighbours.” He says the words with genuine glee, and you can’t help the way your heart beats a little faster, a little warmer.

“We are,” you agree.

As if to confirm, the car turns on Jungkook’s street, the driver starting the climb towards Jungkook’s house. Because, much like many streets in Seoul, Jungkook’s street goes up and up, his house resting atop a large, though flat hill. It doesn’t take too long from there before you finally reach Jungkook’s house, and the sight that welcomes you is…

Not quite you were expecting to see.

A girl is trying to open the door, and she bolts as the driver honks. Jungkook tenses next to you, his fingers twitching in yours – he didn’t let go of your hand as you made your way to his home. You don’t have time to see the girl’s face, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses as he finally lets go of your hand to grab his phone.

“Shibal,” he lets out, and a muscle feathers under his skin as he clenches his jaw. “Let me just see…” he trails off, and you watch as he opens an app that reveals a feed of the camera that is over his front door.

It’s a security app of some sort, and he brings up the footage of five minutes ago. It’s bone chilling to see the girl already there, trying her luck at his door, though she was careful to keep her head hung low. The hat she’s wearing does a good job of covering his features, and Jungkook leans his head back against the car door, shutting his eyes in annoyance.

“I’ll have to send this to the police,” he says, sounding infinitely defeated.

“That’s a good idea,” you reply, unsure what else to say.

He’s retracted somewhere within himself, and you can’t even blame him. God knows how frightened you’d be if someone tried to get into your home, and it’s a recurring occurrence for him.

“I’m sorry,” you add after a few beats of silence.

He meets your gaze, offering you a weak smile. “It’s not your fault,” he says, as if by reflex. “Let’s just go in and forget about that.”

You give him a nod, and his smile falls as he turns to open the car door. You follow him out quickly, and he unlocks his front door with another app on his phone. He also presses a password on the dial pad by his door, which unlocks a second lock that allows him to push the door open.

If you were him, you’d have fifteen locks on that door. Just in case.

Once you’re in Jungkook’s house, the door safely locked behind you, Jungkook turns on the lights with a switch that’s next to the door. It reveals dark walls, and a step up to access the rest of the house, separating the hall to the actual house. You take off your shoes there, and Jungkook offers you slippers that are definitely too big for you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes as he looks at the way you’re floating in the slippers.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I don’t actually need slippers.”

“Don’t want your feet to get cold,” he says, frowning slightly as if what you just said was offensive.

You chuckle, raising your shoulders apologetically. “Sorry, I’ll keep the slippers, then.”

That seems to make him happy as he smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes the way that it did back at the bar and in the car. You hate it, and you immediately reach forward, grabbing his hand to give him a gentle squeeze.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He sighs, shutting his eyes for a few seconds before meeting your gaze again. “I’m so tired of people coming to my door,” he reveals. He gives your hand a squeeze back, and then he pulls you in. You stumble forward, and he wraps his arm around your waist. “Just want peace and quiet, you know?”

You understand that. You don’t know why that sentence warranted a hug, but you reckon he probably needs it, so you wrap your arms around him too, resting your head on his chest.

His heart is beating softly, gently, a melody much more mellow than the ones he played on his drum set at the concert. It’s steady, and as you hold him a little tighter, its speed increases. It makes you melt, and you shut your eyes, taking in the feeling of his strong body against yours.

“That helps,” he whispers.

You’re glad. You’ll help him however he wants tonight, if only so that you can see his pretty smile again.

“Good.”

He pulls back, though he still holds you close. He just pulls back enough to look down at you, and you look up, your gaze finding his.

“This is peace and quiet,” he says, and he wets his lips.

From this close, you can see the way it makes them glisten, and your throat goes dry. “Yeah?”

He nods, his eyes scanning your features as if he’ll find answers in the lines of your face. Maybe he does, because his smile reaches his eyes next, and he looks appeased, calmer.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” he asks.

You’d imagine it would ruin the magic of the moment somehow, though after what happened outside, the domesticity of his words just makes you want to hold him a little tighter, a little longer.

It’s strange to think you used to believe he didn’t like you.

“Yes, I’d take something to eat, honestly,” you reply.

He nods, but he doesn’t move, and you won’t be the one to move either. You just hold his gaze, cheeks growing warm as his eyes drop to your lips. You feel pulled forward again, like a speck of dust in the Sun’s orbit.

You’re going to kiss him. Hell, you think he’ll kiss you right then and there, too, but then he straightens, stepping back, and the moment is lost.

Instead, he offers you his hand, and the loss of his warmth from the hug ending is purely temporary as you interlace your fingers with his, letting him pull you into his house.

You’re not at all surprised to see that the ground floor of his house is mostly dark, with the occasional lighter colour here and there – a blanket on the large couch, an art frame on the wall, a picture of him and the members of his group at the bottom of the staircase that leads to the second floor. In the kitchen, a white rag is hanging from the tap, left to dry sometimes yesterday, you assume, as you doubt Jungkook took the time to wash the dishes today.

In truth, dirty dishes await him in the sink, you notice as he guides you to sit on a stool at his kitchen island, and he immediately starts washing them, apologizing for the mess.

“If that is what you call a mess, you should never come to my place,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“That bad?”

In truth, you like to keep your space clean and tidy too. But your apartment is so small compared to Jungkook’s house, so even just leaving the shoes next to the door gives the impression that the whole place is cluttered.

“Not really,” you admit, which makes you both laugh. When the laughter recedes, you say, “I guess you’ll have to see one day.”

He smiles, and this time, it does fully reach his eyes, making them sparkle much like they were sparkling when you saw him on the big screen during the concert. It makes you feel all too powerful to be the one bringing that reaction out of him, and you wish you weren’t on the other side of his kitchen island.

You really do feel like kissing him.

“I’d love to,” he says. “I love visiting apartments.”

It’s a tiny piece of what makes him the person that he is. He offers it to you on a silver platter, and you tuck it in a safe corner of your heart.

“Do you?”

He nods enthusiastically. “I like to see how people live.”

“I bet you judge them too.”

He narrows his eyes. “No, of course not. Why would I?”

“Because you were judging me for weeks when we first met?”

The quip came naturally, and Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink as his mouth falls open.

“Hey, that’s not true!”

His lips are jutting out in the smallest of pouts, and it’s so adorable, yet so strange with the piercings that adorn his lower lip. It’s a stark contrast, and you can’t help the way you stare at his mouth.

It distracts you somehow, and you clear your throat, gaze dropping to the dark quartz countertop between the two of you.

“Just teasing.”

“You better be,” he says as he hangs the rag back on the tap, now done with washing dishes. “Or I won’t cook you something.”

You wonder where he gets the energy to cook at this time of the night, after a concert. But it seems Jungkook has an infinite supply of energy, because even though he teased, he immediately starts pulling food out of his fridge and pantry, and he grabs a pan that he puts on the stove.

“You like spicy food?” he asks.

You nod. “I can handle my spice,” you reassure him. “I would not survive here if I couldn’t.”

He chuckles, shooting you a look from where he’s opening a pack of meat, tearing the plastic wrapper open. “Good. I’ll make it extra spicy for you.”

“Try me,” you challenge.

He loves the challenge, which only confirms your earlier theory. Jeon Jungkook is a man of challenges indeed, because the food he sets up before you half an hour later is wafting steam that makes your eyes water from the spice, and the first bite makes you wish you hadn’t told him you like spice.

“Damn,” you let out, slightly choking. “That is spicy.”

“Do you like it?” he asks, and he sounds so insecure all of a sudden you have to do a double take to make sure he’s being serious.

“Yes, of course,” you reassure him.

And you do. Despite the spice, the flavours he mixed together meet in your mouth in a delicious explosion, and the spice lingers for a few seconds after you swallow, like it refuses to let go entirely.

“Let me get you water,” he says, and he goes back to his fridge, grabbing a bottle. He hesitates before closing the fridge door, throwing you a look. “Actually, do you want a beer?”

You nod. “Sure, I’ll have one.”

He likes your reply. It shows in the way he grins, much like he did in the car earlier, and you figure his stress from the girl outside hasn’t lingered while he cooked, which is a relief. You much prefer this version of Jungkook, with the sparks in his eyes and the light flush to his cheeks, to the sullen version that appeared when he saw the stalker outside.

He grabs two beer bottles, opening them before walking back to you, and he sits next to you, in front of his own plate. He hands you your beer, and you clink bottles before taking a sip. The beer is bitter, and it douses the spice that was burning in your mouth.

“Thank you,” you tell him as you put the bottle down, and Jungkook gives you a quick smile, but doesn’t say anything.

He’s too busy eating, and you reckon he might have been starving after the concert. It really looks like he does, because he eats his own plate in record time, and you end up giving him the rest of yours when you feel full. He gobbles that down too, which only makes you laugh at him.

“Have you never eaten before?” you tease him as you put your now empty beer bottle down on the counter after having taken a sip.

He narrows his eyes at you, and then his features soften as he says, “It’s just really good.”

It’s cute. He looks proud of himself, and you can’t help the way your lips curl up. “It is.”

He finishes eating soon after that, and he puts your plates away in the sink, quickly washing them and putting them to dry with his dishes from earlier.

“So,” he says, holding the ‘o’ sound for a few seconds. “Let’s go sit in the living room, we’ll be more comfortable.”

You nod, though you make a quick stop to the bathroom – which he shows you is nestled between two bedrooms down a hallway – and then you join him in the living room, where he’s sprawled on the couch. He looks boyish like that, his hair a little dishevelled from the way he ran a hand through it.

“Your bathroom is way too fancy for me,” you say as you sit next to him.

He turns off his phone, putting it down on the coffee table. “Is it?”

“This whole house is,” you say, motioning around. “It must have cost a fortune.”

“I actually got it built,” he admits, almost sheepishly. “It’s my dream home.”

You smile softly. “You’re lucky.”

At that he just holds your gaze for a few seconds, his big, doe eyes shining from within. And then he reaches forward, straightening, and he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers ghosting on your cheek for a few seconds before he pulls away.

You’re burning hot red when he says, “I really am.”

You know he doesn’t mean the house. Not with the way he looks at you. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like that and gosh, you think it’ll make you go insane.

His ex. He’s hung up over his ex.

“Maybe uh,” you say, clearing your throat as your eyes drop to his phone on the coffee table as it buzzes once.

Jungkook ignores it, his eyes staying on your profile as he waits for you to continue. You feel at a loss for words, enough so that he ends up saying, “Maybe what?”

You swallow, wishing you hadn’t finished your beer while eating earlier.

Wishing you’d thought to ask for another one.

“Maybe you could give me a tour of the house,” you suggest.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, features soft. “Oh, you want a tour?”

You shrug. “Why not? I want to see what makes a house your dream home.”

He nods, and then he glances around at his living room, which makes you do so too. The walls are dark, much like all the walls in the house so far, and he’s got one of the biggest TVs you’ve ever seen hung on the wall. Multiple gaming consoles are on the small table underneath it, and you think you spy a Switch 2 amongst them. The wide room houses a large couch and a short coffee table, too, but the rest of it is empty, save for a vase in a corner and a little table in another with what looks like an essential oil diffuser sitting atop it. It sparks to life as you’re looking at it, most likely controlled by a schedule Jungkook set up before, and mist starts pouring out of it, confirming that it’s indeed a diffuser.

“Well, I spend a lot of time in the living room,” he says, and your attention returns to him. “But I’m honestly almost always in the basement.”

Which you saw last time you were here. It doesn’t stop Jungkook from suggesting going downstairs, and you follow him down the corridor where the bathroom is. The door at the end leads to a staircase going down to the basement, and Jungkook leads you downstairs as he uses an app on his phone to turn on the lights.

You’re starting to think his whole house is controlled by apps. You wouldn’t be surprised if it was – Jungkook seems like the kind of man that loves technology.

“So, you saw the bar already,” Jungkook starts as you’re almost at the bottom of the stairs, and he clears his throat, pink dusting his cheeks. “And the gym.”

“Yeah.” You swallow, nodding once. “The gym.”

Jungkook smiles, and then winks at you. “You seemed to like the gym.”

He’s teasing. His eyes twinkle mischievously, and he’s at the bottom of the stairs, and you’re looking down at him and fuck, you really fucking want to kiss him. But all you do is glare at him, though a smile creeps up on your lips.

“Yeah, what can I say? You’re good with your hands.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and his tongue darts out to play with his piercings. “You think so?”

The air fills with electricity. The rope from before, turned to lightning bolts between you and him. You’re struck, frozen in place, though you’re burning from within. Buzzing with current, and you feel it zapping at the skin of your arms as Jungkook just holds your gaze, a quiet intensity filling his eyes. They darken, lust edging at the corners of his gaze.

“Maybe.”

He smirks, dripping with confidence as he fully faces you, pulling you down the stairs. “Well, good thing you’re here right now, mmh?”

You step down the last stair, looking up at him as his hands find your waist, slowly pulling you in. He’s towering over you, his hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at you, and you reach up, pushing his hair back. It’s soft under your fingers, much like silk, and Jungkook just stares down at you with that dark look as your hand moves from his hair to his cheek.

His eyes flutter shut as you barely even graze his skin, going down to the corner of his mouth. He’s pretty. Ethereal. You think you could sit and watch him all day without ever getting bored. Especially as his head tilts to the side like he’s chasing your fingers the second you start to pull away.

He murmurs your name, and it’s like he cast a spell on you. You’d do anything he asked right now – you’re stripped away of your own thoughts. No, all there is now is him, and you’ll be damned if you don’t feel those pink lips of his against yours.

Jungkook’s tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his lips, and they stay slightly parted as his eyes flutter open. They’re filled with an intensity different than the one from before, akin to desire that leans into yearning more than lust.

You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like that. Not when, as you have to remind yourself, he was watching his ex streaming last night.

The thought of it is like a cold shower breaking the spell. He was leaning in, but you break eye contact, your gaze dropping to his chest, and you clear your throat.

“Shouldn’t we finish the tour?” you ask.

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, like he’s confused with your change of heart. But he takes it in stride, taking a step back and looking to the side, where the hallway that leads to the gym is.

“Yeah, uh.” It’s his turn to clear his throat. “I can show you the studio.”

You nod, feeling bad for killing the vibe, but only partially.

You still need to talk to him about his ex, after all.

Jungkook’s home studio is across the hallway from his gym, and it’s just as dark as the rest of the house. It consists of two rooms – one in which the recording happens, on the other side of a wall of windows, and one where he does the producing. He’s got a full drum set in the recording room, along with a mic, and different guitars are hanging on the wall on this side. They’re illuminated by the string of LED lights he hung all around the ceiling, and it currently shines yellow, though Jungkook switches it to red as he moves to the desk.

“So, here’s where the magic happens,” he says as he pulls the chair, sitting on it.

He’s got three monitors in front of him, and they come to life as he turns on the PC that goes with it.

“This is sick,” you say as you walk closer to him, though you diverge towards a small leather couch in the corner. “It looks like we’re at an actual studio.”

“Well.” He chuckles, giving you a short glance before he focuses on the monitor right in front of him, typing in a password. “It is an actual studio.”

Indeed, you can tell the walls on the other side are padded with soundproof panels to help with the quality of the sound.

“Right,” you let out.

“I also use this room as a gaming room, though,” he admits.

“You game?”

As if the consoles upstairs weren’t an evidence of it.

He nods. “Not as much as I used to. I’ve been too busy with my service and then the new album and the show.” He opens up his Steam page, and you catch glances of the store before he closes it again. “I’m not going to game while you’re here.”

“I could watch you play,” you suggest.

“No, I want to spend time with you,” he says, and he puts the PC back in sleep mode. He gets up, walks over to the couch where you are, and then sits next to you, leaning back against it, his thighs spreading. “I can show you some recordings some other time.”

His head is turned towards you, and you meet his gaze, immediately feeling the pull from before again. Especially as he raises his hand, and it’s his turn to ghost his fingers on the line of your jaw before he tucks some hair behind your ear.

“Thank you for coming to the concert tonight,” he says, his voice lower than it was a second ago, more intimate. “It was exciting to know you were out there watching me.”

You gulp. “It was exciting to watch you.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, unable to find words as his fingers go down your neck, before heading to the back of your head.

“I’ve been dying to kiss you all night,” he whispers. “Even when I was on stage.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off.

He’s leaning closer. Yet he stops, humming. “Mmh?”

“I’ve been meaning to…”

You can’t finish your sentence. Not when the earnest look in his eyes shoots right to your heart, and you can’t find it in you to ruin it again.

After all, you’ve been dying to kiss him, too.

So you dive in. Press your lips on his, watching his eyes go wide in surprise before they close. And then he’s kissing you back, all soft lips and hands pulling you closer. It starts slow, sweet, but the pace increases quickly as Jungkook teases your lower lip with his tongue. You tilt your head to the side, deepening the kiss as his fingers find the side of your throat. And they wrap around your neck, and he’s pulling you closer, and you climb on his lap, straddling his thighs.

Jungkook lets out a breathy sound that tastes heavenly, and your tongue teases his before he takes control, leading the kiss down a fiery path that makes you feel like you’re catching fire.

Jungkook is a goddamned good kisser. It might be the piercings pressing small indents in your bottom lip. Or the way his large hands hold your waist, thumb swiping at your skin through the fabric of your shirt. Or maybe it’s the way he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

You don’t know what it is. All you know is that it’s like fireworks are exploding in your heart, making it beat wildly, and you’re holding onto Jungkook’s face as he grunts when you bite into his lower lip.

It’s lustful. Borderlining on sinful. You’d imagined the kiss would be sweeter, more like a candy melting on your tongue, but it’s tequila burning down your throat. It’s two bodies that have been craving each other for weeks, and there’s no way to slow it down.

You’re a car driving full speed at a wall, and you don’t have it in you to stop the crash.

You pull away, breathing harshly, just long enough for Jungkook to start kissing at your jaw, nipping at the skin, and then you’re kissing again. It’s explosions after explosions, a feeling of intense rightness that might make you go insane by the end of the night.

Yet you keep diving in. You keep free-falling, and you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore as to if he’ll catch you. You’re flying – maybe you don’t need him to catch you. Maybe you just need to fly with him, and the way he’s kissing you back, holding your waist, makes you think he’s ready to take flight.

“Y/n,” Jungkook murmurs as you kiss him again, and the plea gets lost in your mouth.

It doesn’t seem to matter. He’s kissing you with such fervor you wonder if you’ll ever be able to kiss someone else again. Especially as his hands, previously never straying from your waist, finally head lower. He cups your ass, squeezing gently, and you wish you weren’t wearing jeans.

You wish you could feel his hands on your skin. So you straighten, pulling away from the kiss as you can take off your shirt. Jungkook holds your gaze, breathing hard, and his eyes dip down to your breasts as you take off your bra, too.

“Shit,” he curses, and you cup your breasts, squeezing your nipples once. “You’re so beautiful.”

The compliment gets lodged in your chest, warming your heart like a gentle embrace, though you think it turns to a wild fire as Jungkook’s eyes dip to your breasts again, staying on your perked nipples.

“So fucking beautiful,” he repeats, his voice an octave lower.

It sounds dangerous, like he’s the beast and you the beauty, and your core grows molten.

“My imagination can’t do justice to you,” he adds, and his hands move up your sides, before going to your breasts.

He pinches your nipples, hard enough for you to hiss, and his dark eyes dart to your face before going back to your breasts. And then he’s leaning forward, and he sucks one of your nipples in his mouth, while rubbing the other one between his thumb and index. You throw your head back as his tongue flicks at you, and you lose your hand in his hair, pulling at the soft strands at the back of his head.

But then he’s pulling away, already, only to wrap his hand around your throat again to pull you into another languid kiss, one that makes you reach for the hem of his shirt. He’s reluctant to pull away, though he finally gives in as your fingers move inside his shirt, and your nails scratch at his lower abdomen.

“Fuck.” He leans back, helping you to take off his shirt, and then you’re looking down at him, at the reddened skin at the top of his chest and the muscles cutting across his skin.

He looks sculpted in marble. Hell, you think he might be, yet the skin you run your hand on is soft and warm, and goosebumps appear in the trail of your fingers. His arm tattoo spills on his chest, and you gently trace up his arm before returning to the hard muscles of his chest.

“You look beautiful, too,” you say, meaning it as a tease, yet it’s so breathless it leaves no place for humor.

Jungkook smirks, tilting his head to the side as he pulls on his piercings. “You think so, mmh?”

You nod. “You’re hot. I don’t think you need me to tell you, though.”

He leans forward, capturing your mouth in a quick kiss that makes your head spin. “Maybe I still want to hear it.”

The male confidence and arrogance dripping from his words make you grab the back of his head, and you pull on his hair enough so that he’s forced to tilt his head back. And then you’re leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down the column of his throat, stopping at his Adam's apple to bite at it.

“You think you deserve it?” you tease.

As you say the words, you grind on him, not surprised to feel his erection pressing against you.

He’s just as hard as you’re wet already, and it makes you go insane. Enough so that you suck on the skin of his neck without waiting for him to reply, and then you start going down his body, moving down the couch so you can kneel between his legs. Jungkook just looks at you, chest going up and down in fast motions as he breathes hard.

“Take off your pants,” you tell him, and you reach for his belt, undoing it in time with his fingers finding yours.

He takes care of the rest, pushing down his pants enough that you can see how his dick is straining against the fabric of his Calvin Klein boxers. Without even an ounce of hesitation, you lean forward, pressing a kiss on his length, and you proudly watch as his dick twitches.

“i’m going to suck your dick,” you say as you look up at him, blinking innocently. “Is that okay?”

“Please do,” Jungkook says. “Might fuck your mouth a little, though.”

“That’s okay, I can take it.”

Jungkook curses in Korean as you pull his boxers down just enough to reveal his dick. It slaps against his abs, and you grab the base, squeezing him once.

He’s bigger than you thought he was. Maybe it’s because you’ve only seen his dick through the screen of your phone, but he’s fat and heavy in your hand, his tip swollen red and leaking precum right now. And as you jerk him off once, the bead of precum grows until it slides down his tip, and you lean forward to lick at it.

Jungkook says your name, and you look up at him as you swirl your tongue around his tip, the heady taste of his precum filling your mouth. The way he’s staring down at you as you take him in your mouth makes you want to sink on him instead of tasting him, but you want to please him first.

You know you’ll get your fun later. So, for now, you shut your eyes, focusing on the way you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, holding your gag reflex in as he presses at the back of your throat. He groans as you swallow around him, and then you slowly move back, your hand moving back up at the same time. You stop when there’s just his tip in your mouth again, and you tease his slit, before sucking hard.

And then you sit back on your heels, looking up at him as you jerk him off slowly.

“How do you like it?” you ask.

You know from the videos that he sent that he likes it rough, but you want to hear him say it. You want him to tell you exactly what to do, just so you can please him better.

“In your mouth, baby,” he says, and he pulls your hair back in a makeshift ponytail. “I want you to suck on me while I’m fucking your mouth.”

It’s so sinful, so far from that earnest look he had in his eyes earlier that you wonder if he, too, has gone insane.

“Like this?” you ask, and then you suck on his tip, this time still holding eye contact.

Jungkook curses, and he rolls his hips up into your mouth. You almost choke, and your eyes water a little, but the way his eyes roll back before he throws his head back against the couch makes you want him so bad you forget about everything.

And then Jungkook unleashes himself. Not that he had a strong tether to begin with – you haven’t even sucked him for a minute. But he unleashes himself, fucking up into your mouth as his hand grabs the back of your head to keep you in position. He goes deep, though when you choke for the first time, he makes sure to be more careful.

You’d tell him you don’t mind him being rougher, but he doesn’t give you time to speak. Not even as a tear does roll on your cheek, and drool drips down your chin. And as he uses your mouth to pleasure himself, you reach between his legs, cupping his balls.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he lets out, and he slows down his rhythm as you squeeze. “Fuck.”

He pulls out, eyes wide, and you watch as a fat bead of cum appears on his slit.

“I almost came,” he says, sounding so surprised all you can do is lick the cum away.

It tastes salty, and you smile up at Jungkook as he just looks down at you, his mouth slightly parted. And then he’s pulling you up, crashing his lips on yours again. It’s intense, especially as he picks you up and lays you down on the couch. He’s between your legs in record time, taking off your pants and panties in one go.

Suddenly, you’re fully naked in front of Jeon Jungkook, looking up at him in the red glow that’s set in the room, and you know you’re about to be dragged to hell.

“I trust you’re clean?” he says like a question.

You nod. “You?”

“Got tested last week,” he says. “In case we got to this point tonight.”

You wet your lips. “You were expecting this to happen.”

He grabs his dick, stroking himself slowly. The sight makes your pussy clench around nothing, and you grab his thighs where they’re resting on the two sides of you.

“Baby, I was dreaming of it,” he says, and then he’s moving closer, rubbing his tip on your clit. “Birth control?”

You nod once more. “IUD.”

“Good fucking girl.” The words are said in a low, raucous tone that almost sounds like a growl, and you moan as he rubs your clit again. “Gonna fuck you so hard, m’kay?”

“Please, Jungkook.”

He leans forward, pecking your forehead once. “Tell me if it hurts.”

And then he’s aligning himself with your entrance, pushing in in one swift motion that makes your vision go white with stars. He’s even bigger when he’s stretching you wide open, the veins on his dick dragging on your walls. It burns, and your eyes flutter shut as he stills deep inside of you, giving you time to adjust to his size. He grabs your legs as he does so, rubbing the side of your thighs, and you can feel his gaze on you as he slowly starts to pull out, only to push all the way in again.

You’ll go insane. Hell, you’re already insane, halfway to the asylum, because the feeling of him inside of you is nothing like what you’ve ever felt before. It feels new, different, so mind-numbingly good that you doubt you’ll ever be the same again.

“You’re so tight,” he lets out, and he moans as he pulls back and pushes in again. “Relax, baby.”

“Jungkook,” you let out in a whine.

“I know, baby, I know.” He leans down, caging you between his arms, and then he’s kissing you, slow and sweet. “You can take me, just relax.”

“You’re so big.”

He chuckles, pecking your lips again. “I know. Do you want me to finger you a little?”

The thought of him leaving you empty makes you want to cry, so you wrap your legs around his waist tightly, arms circling his neck.

“No,” you say. “Just fuck me, Jungkook.”

You don’t need to say more. The second the words are out, Jungkook starts jackhammering his hips into yours in rapid motions that make you scream out his name. The initial burn from the stretch morphs into decadent pleasure licking up your spine, and your nails dig in the skin of his back as he keeps up the same unforgiving pace.

He groans, and then he’s kissing you, and you feel so full of him you think you’ll burst. But he’s right here with you, holding you, fucking you, kissing you, and you think the world stops for a moment.

For a moment, it’s just you, Jungkook, and that undying lust between the two of you. It’s passion and desire entwined, a fire that is just now starting never to be quelled. Because you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of this. Even as he’s still fucking you hard, you think you already miss him.

Jungkook slows down for a moment, aiming for harder and deeper instead, and he rests his forehead on yours to give you both a chance to breathe. You run your hands on his back, through his hair, fingers itching to touch every inch of his skin. His are in your hair, holding your head gently.

“You feel amazing,” he whispers. “Gonna need to fuck you every day.”

“Please do,” you whisper back, and you feel his smile as he kisses you again.

It’s softer this time, gentler, the passion yielding its place to the yearning tenderness you saw in his eyes earlier. He fucks you like that too, like you’ve got all the time in the world in front of you and hell, you think you might.

You’ll take an eternity with him, if he gives it to you.

The tender moment passes, intensity returning to the two of you as he starts picking up the pace again. You feel a knot forming in your lower stomach, and your walls clench around him, hard enough to make him curse out loud.

And then he’s pulling out, leaving you empty, and you whine at the loss of him.

“Shh,” he shushes you, and he makes you turn on your stomach, his hands massaging your ass cheeks before he gently slaps your ass. “Just wanna fuck you like this too.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he pushes back in, the new angle offering different sensations that ought to be illegal from how addicting they are. Especially as he establishes that same unforgiving rhythm as before, and you turn your head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

He’s dangerously beautiful like this. With his chest and cheeks reddened from the effort he’s putting into fucking you, his hair wet at the temples. You can’t see much of him, unable to turn your head enough, but you feel his hands on your waist, and you just know the muscles on his abdomen shift as he fucks you hard and quick, his balls slapping on your clit every time he pushes in.

You’ll come. The sight of him like this will make you come, especially as he moans your name, his dick so hard inside of you you feel every single inch of it. You feel his tip and the rim that’s a little thicker, you feel the veins and the way he fills you up so completely, like he was made for you.

He has to have been made for you.

The knot in your lower stomach tightens more and more as he fucks you, and the second he lands another slap on your ass, you let go, exploding right under him. It’s an explosion you don’t think you’ll ever understand, one that makes you go blind as it crashes into you so hard, scattering your mind everywhere in this room. You can’t focus on anything after that, the pleasure so widely complete you think you’ve reached nirvana. And as your pussy spasms, clenching and unclenching on his dick, Jungkook pushes all the way in with a loud groan, coming deep inside of you, painting you white with his seed.

It takes you forever to come down from your high after that. Hell, you don’t think you ever truly do. Not even as he pulls out, cursing as his cum spills out of you and drips on the couch. You’re so out of your body that you don’t even move as he goes to grab toilet paper in the bathroom, and he comes back to you still in the same position, your mind spinning with ecstasy. He’s gentle as he cleans you up, and even more gentle as he turns you around.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, still unable to form words. All you can do is kiss him back when he leans in for a tender kiss, one that slowly helps with recentering you in this world.

In this room, in this house. In Seoul, in a country you’re starting to love more and more with every moment that passes in the presence of this man.

“Let’s go take a shower,” he suggests.

“Yes,” you weakly reply.

He smiles as he hears your voice, and then he’s helping you up, steadying you as your knees almost give out under you.

You barely register that you have to go up two flights of stairs before reaching the bathroom. Barely register the shower itself, with its black tiles and glass door that’s fogging up with steam as Jungkook helps to clean you, rubbing soap into your skin and letting the water wash it off. You barely register the way he wraps you in a warm towel after, pressing a kiss on your forehead that makes your eyes flutter shut.

And then he’s pulling you to his bedroom, tucking you against his chest under the softest blankets you’ve ever snuggled in. Or maybe it’s just your skin still sensitive from the activity that transpired in the basement. You can’t even tell, as your mind is still in shambles from the pleasure.

“I hope you’re okay,” Jungkook whispers on the top of your head as you lie in his bed.

It occurs to you that you’ve been mostly silent this whole time, and you wrap an arm around his waist, nuzzling your face in his chest.

“I’m more than okay,” you murmur, and he pecks the top of your head,

“Good.”

But you reckon, maybe you shouldn’t be. Maybe you should be wary, because you still haven’t talked to him about his ex. Still haven’t mentioned what Mingyu told you, and the fact that it scares you. Because you don’t want to get attached to someone that will just break your heart in the end.

But as he presses a kiss on the top of your head again, wishing you good night, you fear you might already be too far gone for the man next to you.

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