#JUNGKOOKERS I WILL DO HIM JUSTICE!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taexual · 4 months

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sleepwalking ● 14 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, risky motorcycle ride? (idk nothing bad happens but always wear helmets, friends), some fun flirting & jokes, but mostly ANGST AND PAIN (including explicit descriptions of very intense anxiety at the very end)

words: 12.3k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 14 ► this isn't over 'til we talk in the light, said i was sober, but you knew that i lied

In the lounge area outside the changing rooms of “013” in Tilburg, Jungkook was engaged in a very intense game of table tennis against Seokjin—and winning, even though Seokjin would have disagreed—when you entered to inform the band that they were going on stage in twenty minutes.

The game wrapped up as the members began to stretch while simultaneously accosting Jimin about their in-ears. There were never any serious issues – Jimin made sure he was the Sound Technician of the Year – but they enjoyed seeing him panic when everyone started moaning, “could you turn the backtrack up a bit?” or “I literally can’t hear myself.” This last one was Taehyung’s favourite, until Jimin started retorting with, “well, maybe you’re deaf,” and then continuing with his day.

The pre-show ritual was always chaotic, but it was endearing chaos, full of nervous laughter and sparkling eyes as the members of Rated Riot prepared for their performance.

Then, just as Jungkook left the dressing room, putting his own in-ears back in, he turned the corner and almost collided with Sid, who looked more than pleased when Jungkook took a surprised step back.

What an absolute eye-sore, Jungkook thought. As the tour went on, he began to understand your aversion to his friends better.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, and it sounded like he wasn’t just asking about Sid being in this room. He was questioning Sid’s constant presence on this tour. Surely, with Jungkook no longer participating in his little games, he had to get bored and go back home.

The past few weeks have taught Jungkook that some friendships had an expiration date, and sometimes stupid bets accelerated that process. He was okay with that now—he realised that holding onto Sid would be much worse than being left alone.

“Just came to wish you luck before the show,” said Sid, who had never genuinely wished anyone luck before. “We’re here if you want to talk.”

Jungkook frowned and glanced at Minjun—who stood further away from the rest of their friends, and rolled his eyes—then he looked back at Sid.

“I’m good,” he said slowly and cautiously as if Sid was a snake that attacked when it sensed defiance.

Just when Jungkook thought he was safe and tried to walk away, Sid’s saccharine voice—the venomous kind—called out, “don’t forget we’re going out racing tonight!”

Jungkook stopped and turned to him again. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t be like that,” Sid taunted. “This could be your chance to practise riding a rental since it seems like you’re going to lose your bike in five—”

“You really don’t have anything better to do, do you?” Jungkook interrupted. Maybe it was the pre-show adrenaline or maybe he had finally grown tired of Sid’s bullshit, but he added, “I feel sorry for you.”

Sneering because people felt many things for him – mostly contempt – but pity wasn’t one of them, Sid leaned in closer. It was a tactic that Jungkook had already grown immune to, but Sid was a creature of habit.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he hissed, not bothered by the emptiness in Jungkook’s stare. “See you later.”

“You won’t,” Jungkook asserted. “I’m not going out with you. This is all over, including the bet.”

Sid raised his eyebrows. With a very specific sense of justice that no one else in this hallway—or in this world—possessed, he declared, “I get the Katana, then.”

There was something questioning about his tone, however. As if he needed Jungkook’s confirmation that he did indeed lose this bet to Sid.

But Jungkook was firm: “You don’t.”

Sid threw his head back and scoffed with an exasperation that could have put a two-year-old to shame. “Well, then neither do you!”

“That’s fine,” Jungkook said. “Minjun can keep it.”

As Sid huffed and growled in frustration, Jungkook looked at his friend again. Minjun seemed about ready to interject—he was the one person here who did not want the bike and, in fact, wished it did not exist at all—but Sid finally found his words.

“You think Minjun can—the bike is mine,” he insisted. “I won—”

“Sid, you don’t give two shits about the fucking bike,” Jungkook cut him off, very tired of the repetitive argument. “Get over it.”

The conversation with Taehyung at Hoseok’s party weighed heavily on Jungkook’s mind. He knew he had bigger things to worry about right now—forget losing the bike. He might lose you.

In his usual dignified manner—so, not dignified at all—Sid rolled his eyes and snarled, “I agreed to bet on it, didn’t I? Obviously, I do give a shit.”

“No,” Jungkook said. “You give a shit about winning. But it’s over. We’re not doing this anymore. Deal with it.”

There was a redness on Sid’s face that hadn’t been there before. A week ago, Jungkook would have been excited to see it—it would have certainly meant a point in his favour. Now, he didn’t want to see Sid’s face at all.

“It’s not over,” Sid argued, persistent like a fly that keeps hitting the glass of a window. “There’s still five days left.”

“Five days until what?”

Four heads whipped around to see you standing at the end of the hallway, confused by the snippet of conversation that you’d overheard. You had returned to find Jungkook because the rest of the band was already pacing – or, in Hoseok’s case, doing restless sit-ups – by the side of the stage.

Jungkook, Sid, Jude, and Minjun stared at you with eyes so bright and wide that they could have guided ships off the coast.

You’ve never met four boys who looked more stunned to see you. It was as if you had accidentally stumbled into the latest concert of the Masculine Ritual, Absolutely No Femininity Allowed, God Forbid Someone Who Identifies as Female Enters The Room tour, and they could not believe this was happening.

“Uh,” Jungkook was the first to react as he immediately approached you. “I’ll tell you later. They’re just excited about, uh, London.”

You did the mental calculations while Jungkook gently squeezed your shoulder to turn you around and steer you away from his friends and towards the stage.

The London show really was more or less in five days, so you decided not to question that part. But the quick pace at which Jungkook was pulling you away from the others still unsettled you.

As you turned a corner, you looked back and saw Sid frowning at you, while Minjun—as usual lately—looked like he regretted being born, and Jude—as usual always—was picking his fingernails.

“Is Sid in one of his chaotic moods again?” you asked as you walked—nearly ran, actually, with the way Jungkook was pulling you. “Should I be concerned?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine,” he assured with a dismissive wave of his hand. “He’s just… doing Sid things. You know. Nothing to worry about as long as—well, as long as you don’t get in his way. I have everything under control.”

Your primary goal on this tour was to stay out of Sid’s way as long as he stayed out of yours. But now was not the time to discuss it, because Rated Riot had three minutes until their performance.

“Alright, then,” you said. “Leave me out of it and we’re good.”

Jungkook coughed in response and stopped once you reached the other members of the band. You thought you saw Taehyung raise his eyebrows when Jungkook took his hand off your shoulders, but maybe you were just imagining it.

You turned to the rest of the band, all of whom looked pale and fidgety and unsure.

The speakers had malfunctioned during the soundcheck earlier, so Jimin and Seokjin had to cut it short to fix the problem. Naturally, the disruption of their usual routine made the band anxious. The table tennis match between Seokjin and Jungkook—arguably the most unhinged members of the team when it came to games—had distracted everyone, but now they returned to the unpleasant arms of anxiety.

“Come on,” you said, trying to sound more energetic than you were feeling. “Stop looking like you’re going to get hanged. You’ll do fantastic out there. Go and have fun. And don’t bother coming backstage until you’re drenched and the crowd won’t stop changing your names. I mean it.”

Finally, a small smile appeared on Yoongi’s face as he rolled up one of his pant legs—for no reason other than he thought it looked cool. Honestly, it worked for him.

“Why did that last part sound like a threat?” he quipped, standing up straight.

“Because it is,” you replied. When you turned to Jungkook, he had his eyebrows furrowed as if he was still worried about something, but he started to smile as soon as he felt your gaze. You added, “I’ll be out there watching you. Kick some ass.”

You high-fived all four of them and pulled back as the boys erupted battle cries and huddled together before taking the stage.

They were still nervous, but they had you and each other, and there was a room full of people excited to see them perform. This was supposed to be just another day at the office.

Smiling, you headed back to your usual spot by the stage where Luna was chatting with a few girls at the barricade, and Maggie was snapping pictures of the audience nearby.

It occurred to you while standing there, that you were thousands of kilometres away from your house, away from everything familiar. But with Rated Riot on stage, and Luna and Maggie by your side, you felt right at home.

There was nothing you wished more than to stay like this forever.

It was an unwritten law that touring with a rock band was fun, but quickly turned very hectic. Insomnia often became an unwelcome friend—especially for the members of the band who had fashionable bags under their eyes almost every day. But when they were on stage or meeting their fans after the show, they looked alive. They looked happy.

And the more drinks they had after the concert, the more that happiness seemed to grow.

“You know what I think?” Yoongi said on the couch in the dressing room where everyone had gathered after the show. He was tipsy as he swung the green Heineken bottle around, nearly splashing you and Namjoon as you sat on either side of him. “I think next time we’re in Europe, we’ll be performing at Wembley. Stade de France. The fucking Coliseum.”

“And Camp Nou?” you teased.

Yoongi and Namjoon—both avid Barcelona fans—nodded in eager agreement.

“And not as guests at festivals, either,” Yoongi continued. “Headliners.”

You smiled. “I can see that.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi’s own smile widened. “When we announced our tour, Kerrang! called us ‘The Next Reconnaissance’ on their Instagram.”

You felt an uncomfortable twinge in your stomach at the mention of the other band and turned away from the two boys. You remembered the alternative culture magazine running rampant with the moniker—always “The Next Reconnaissance,” never just Rated Riot.

“I… don’t think you’re the next anything,” you said. “I think you’re you. And being Rated Riot is already amazing.”

Yoongi needed a moment to process your words. For some reason, he had expected you to agree with the nickname. Part of him wanted to be “the next Reconnaissance,” considering how much they had achieved. But you were right.

“I like that,” he said. “That’s good. Yes. We’re Rated Riot. We’ll get Wembley. And Camp Nou.”

“I second that,” Namjoon said, pointing his beer bottle at the other boy. “But, oh, we saw Reconnaissance at Rose Bowl last year, remember? Might be the best concert I’ve ever been to. I know they were in town again before we left for Europe, but I didn’t get to go. It was at a smaller venue anyway, I think. Rose Bowl, though... Stadium shows are something else.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked at Namjoon over Yoongi’s head. The producer didn’t normally say this much in one breath. He was clearly getting drunk.

Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t notice anything wrong. He was likely equally as buzzed. He hummed as he threw his head back and took a large swig of his beer. Then he turned to face you.

“We’ve never opened for a band their size before,” he said. “Do you think we even could? I mean, they’re not The Rolling Stones, but they’re… well…”

He let the sentence falter because he couldn’t find a fitting word, but both you and Namjoon understood.

“Uh, well, who says you can never work with them in the future? I know their manager,” you said, trying to sound uplifting, but quickly catching yourself. You could have made your point without mentioning this. But because the two boys suddenly looked at you as if you’d just said you were Kurt Cobain in your past life, you had to explain, “he’s, uh—he’s Nick Zhou. I worked under him after university.”

“No shit?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows even higher. “Are you still in touch?”

“Not really,” you mumbled, finding yourself in a tough spot. Avoiding the subject now, when you were the one who mentioned Nick, would essentially mean lying to them. You didn’t want to do that. Awkwardly, you admitted, “although, he did, um—he called me a few days ago. Back in Oslo.”

“What?” Namjoon leaned forward to look at you over Yoongi, who stopped drinking his beer, distracted by the conversation. “Why didn’t you say anything? What did he want?”

Suddenly, you regretted finishing your beer before you joined them on the couch.

“Well, see, that’s the thing. He, uh—he wasn’t calling about the band. Or, well, he was, but it wasn’t—okay.” You closed your eyes and took a breath. This was a very long detour to get to the most important sentence. “He said he’s looking for an assistant manager.”

The two boys next to you exchanged a look.

“And… he wants you?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “But only because he needs someone quickly and he’s already worked with me before, so—”

“Well, fuck,” Yoongi concluded, cutting off your humble explanation, while Namjoon offered an equally insightful, “wow, shit.”

You nodded – both observations accurate – and quickly added, “I didn’t—I’m not going to do it, though.”

“No?” Yoongi asked. “Why not?”

The hint of surprise in his voice made you uncomfortable. It sounded like the reasonable decision would have been to accept Nick’s offer and leave Rated Riot to work with this much bigger, much more intimidating band.

“I-I guess I don’t want to be anyone’s assistant anymore,” you stammered. “I like running the ship myself.”

The guitarist’s expression softened. But before he could speak, Namjoon slapped his palm on his thigh and cheered so uncharacteristically loudly that you and Yoongi both pulled back from him in surprise.

“I know that’s fucking right!” Namjoon cried out. “Steer us all right and Rated Riot will surpass them. You’ll be calling that guy to get him to be your assistant.”

You laughed at the unexpected proposition, and Yoongi gave your knee a friendly pat.

“We won’t let you down,” he said, much more collected than the boy next to him. “You know?”

“I know.” You were smiling with all the warmth in your chest. “I believe you, that’s why I don’t want to leave. But, uh—would you mind not telling anyone else about this? I don’t want it to, you know, blow out of proportion. It wasn’t even an official offer, really, he just mentioned that there was an opening. But I just… I thought it would be unfair if I didn’t eventually tell any of you.”

Yoongi nodded knowingly. Rated Riot didn’t have a designated leader, since Namjoon—as their main producer—and Seokjin—as their stage manager—called most of the shots, but as the oldest member of the band, Yoongi was typically the one to talk to you about the heavier topics.

“It’s cool,” he said. “As long as you’re staying with us, no one else really needs to know about this, right?”

What he’d just said—paired with the way he looked at you for a few seconds longer than necessary—seemed to imply something else. Your eyes automatically drifted to Jungkook, who was talking to Seokjin and Jimin on the other side of the room.

You lowered your eyes. “Yeah.”

Yoongi finished his beer in one swift gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he looked at you again.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” he said.

You met his gaze. “For what?”

“For believing in us enough to stay.”

Namjoon felt himself smile as he quietly finished his beer. He knew he was tipsy, but he wasn’t drunk enough to interrupt the moment between you two.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Here, you turned to Namjoon. “Right?”

Looking at you in surprise after you addressed him, the producer scrambled to nod.

“Oh, hell yeah!” he said, leaning forward to reach Yoongi’s completely empty bottle with his own. “Here’s to Wembley next year.”

You smiled as the older boy clinked his empty bottle against Namjoon’s, then tipped his head back to get the last stubborn drops.

“Oh, by the way,” Yoongi spoke as he swallowed and immediately coughed. “D-did you find out what was going on with Jungkook and his lyrics?”

It took you a minute to recall your last conversation with Yoongi—the one that had led you to Jungkook, where he had dodged your questions and later snuck into your bunk on the tour bus and kissed you.

“Uh, well.” You tugged at the sleeve of your leather jacket. “He said that the song he played you was just a demo. He’s still working on the melody. And he said that he just has someone who reviews his lyrics for him, nothing more.”

Yoongi nodded to the rhythm of an unusually slow Asking Alexandria song that played from the speakers of the dressing room.

“So, we shouldn’t worry?” he asked, clearly hopeful.

“Apparently, no,” you said with an uneasy smile.

“Alright,” he decided. “Then let’s not worry.”

He looked at Namjoon who nodded in support of this decision.

And so, not worrying was exactly what they did. Instead, Namjoon brought three more bottles of Heineken and you all decided to just feel happy tonight.

As you scanned the room with a new bottle in your hand—while the boys finished their beer in under a minute and Namjoon got up again to bring more—it seemed to you that everyone had made the exact same decision.

Except Taehyung for some reason.

For a good minute, you watched him walk in circles in the very centre of the room. Then, just when you thought he’d stopped, he started another lap around the carpet.

“Excuse me for a minute,” you said to the two boys on the couch—they both nodded—and stood up.

A brief, unexpected fight broke out over the bottle of beer that you’d handed them—Namjoon won—and you hesitated for a moment as you realised you had a new problem and weighed it against the previous one.

The new problem was that Yoongi and Namjoon were getting very drunk. It was almost ridiculous, but probably harmless. Taehyung, on the other hand, seemed to be waiting to perform at four more gigs as soon as he left this room. You had to go to him first.

He had noticed the commotion by the couch, but he did not acknowledge your approach.

“Is everything okay?” You had to stop right in front of him to ask as he continued his frenzied pacing. “You’re kind of walking in circles here.”

Taehyung stopped as if in a daze and looked at you. “Hm? Ah. Lots on my mind, I guess.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“Uh…” He looked around. The movement seemed thoughtful, but without a clear purpose—it seemed like he was just avoiding your eyes. Then you saw his gaze land on Jungkook. Taehyung looked at him for a moment, then turned back to you and scratched the back of his neck in a telltale sign of universal discomfort. He said, “honestly, maybe it’s not me that you should be talking to.”

You glanced at Jungkook, too—he was explaining something to Jimin with very wild hand gestures. He still appeared to be on a high from the concert.

“You mean Jungkook?” you asked, shifting your attention back to Taehyung. “Is he the reason why you’re pacing?”

“Sort of,” the bassist replied, blinking at the carpet.

You didn’t like the trepidation in your stomach. And you definitely didn’t like the unexpected memory of the alarm that you had seen on Jungkook’s face in your hotel room in Amsterdam.

“Why?” you asked because, despite the ominous dread that you were feeling, it was still your responsibility to know what was going on with the band.

“Just talk to him,” Taehyung advised. “But don’t tell him I said so.”

You hesitated, wanting a bit more information before you dived off this cliff headfirst. You asked, “at least tell me if something happened, so I can be prepared.”

He glanced at Jungkook again. This time, the younger member seemed to sense his gaze as he turned around. Taehyung looked away immediately.

He muttered quickly, “ask about his friends,” and then retreated to the very back of the room until he was fully concealed by Hoseok and Maggie.

A reluctant “oh,” passed your lips, but knowing that Jungkook’s friends were involved meant that there was nothing else that Taehyung could have said to you anyway.

You had to go straight to the source.

You couldn’t say this surprised you. You already got an odd feeling when you walked in on Sid and his Asshole Alliance before the concert tonight, but Jungkook had assured you that everything was fine.

However, if this was something that made Taehyung stomp around the room—which never happened unless the situation was extremely stressful, like the time Luna was getting surgery and he almost rubbed off the soles of his shoes, walking back and forth in the waiting room of the clinic—then it most certainly wasn’t fine.

Your original plan was to wait until everyone was back on the tour bus, since you’d be spending the night in Tilburg anyway. But then you remembered all the times you’d asked Jungkook if everything was okay—and all the times he said it was—and you decided that waiting would not cut it this time.

“Hey,” you said right in the middle of his conversation with Jimin. You added an apologetic, “could you excuse us, please?” but Jimin could tell as soon as he looked at you that he’d better leave.

As quickly as it was humanly possible, he nodded and jogged to join Yoongi and Namjoon by the door of the room. The two of them were loudly discussing their plan to go out and find a bar, but they paused after noticing Jimin.

You watched them for a moment, wondering if you should have stopped them from leaving when they were already so drunk, but they noticed you, waved, and left before you could open your mouth.

Sighing, you turned to Jungkook just as he asked, “what’s up?”

He didn’t appear unusual when you looked at him. But he rarely ever did.

“Are you okay?” you asked in return.

You were both tired of the question, but Jungkook disliked the sound of it particularly much this time. He’d seen you—out of the corner of his eye—take six steps in his direction right after you finished talking to Taehyung.

What if he’d told you?

“Uh, of course,” Jungkook said, looking at you with just as much confusion—and a sprinkle of suspicion—as you were looking at him with. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” you said. Your heart rate increased as if you’d already heard the bad news you were expecting to hear. “How are, um—how’s Sid and everyone else?”

Jungkook disliked this question even more.

“Oh,” he said in a relaxed tone that sounded forced even to him. He cleared his throat and scanned the room for the older member, but didn’t find him. Even more nervous now, he turned to you and tried again. “You mean Sid and the others? They—they’re okay. Sid’s just being annoying, but what else is new? But I’m—we’re all okay. Thanks for, uh, for checking in.”

“Of course,” you said. You waited for him to elaborate so you could discover the reason for Taehyung’s anxiety which resulted in two more members of the band that you needed to worry about.

Honestly, Hoseok was the only one who wasn’t playing with your nerves tonight. You saw him peacefully tapping his foot to the music in the room as he chatted with Maggie and a few other staff members.

Jungkook did not pursue the topic further.

“What did you talk about with, uh—with Taehyung?” he asked instead with all the subtlety of a frightened elephant in a porcelain shop.

“Oh, this and that,” you lied. Then, feeling uncomfortable about lying, you scattered a bit of truth in there, “Luna’s face-timing her mum on the bus, so he was—he’s bored.”

“Ah.” Jungkook nodded. “Makes sense.”

He didn’t think—or didn’t want to think—that Taehyung would tell you about the bet after he asked him not to.

And, really, he tried to be reasonable. If Taehyung had told you, would you be here, peacefully asking him if he was okay?

No. You’d use fists, he presumed. Possibly knees.

“So, there’s nothing you want to tell me?” you asked suddenly, interrupting his masochistic fantasy.

Jungkook swallowed. Whatever it was that you talked about with Taehyung, it was clearly neither this, nor that.

“There is, uh, one thing,” he admitted slowly.

You inhaled. “What is it?”

“What are you plans for the rest of the night?”

This was not what you had braced yourself for. Annoyed by his stalling, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket.

“Well, depending on what you tell me, either I’m arguing with you or going to sleep,” you said. Glancing at the phone in your hand, you added, “it’s two in the morning.”

“We have tomorrow off,” he reminded you. “Well, today, I guess.”

“I know, but we’re going to Cologne—”

“That’s only in the evening.”

“Okay.” You looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear the two of you. Not that you were doing anything forbidden—just merely bordering on it. “What are you getting at?”

“You’ve finished all your work for the night, right?” he asked and you nodded apprehensively. He said, “come do something with me.”

Once again, the dilemma that plagued your mind whenever you were with him returned.

The responsible thing to do here would be to, of course, gently suggest going to sleep. There was a long day of travel ahead of you, after all.

However, this could be your chance to determine if there was truly something alarming happening between him and his friends. Not to mention, he clearly still had something to tell you, despite appearing to have lost courage after the strange moment in your hotel room.

And, alright – the truth was, you wanted to do something with him.

“That’s very vague,” you finally said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Come with me,” Jungkook said, gesturing towards the door of the dressing room.

You agreed to follow him to the door but paused before leaving the room.

“I’d like more information,” you said, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest.

You tried to convince yourself that there was no logical reason for the entire room to be watching you and Jungkook right now, but you still felt phantom eyes all over yourself.

This wasn’t Hoseok’s party. You were still at the concert venue where Jungkook was the performer, and you were the manager.

He noticed your unease. First, he sighed. Then, as if he was compromising, he extended his hand.

“Take my hand,” he said. “And come with me.”

“That’s not exactly what I meant—”

“Come on,” he cut in, waving his hand in front of you. “Less talking, more holding my hand.”

Because your back obstructed the view of his outstretched hand for everyone else in the room, you knew you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing this. Still, you let out a slow, anxious breath.

“Fine,” you said with exaggerated irritation to emphasise your displeasure about being kept in the dark. Then you took his hand.

As the two of you exited the room, there were ulterior motives firmly set in both of your minds.

You had to find out what was going on.

He had to tell you what was going on.

And Jungkook had a plan here somewhere. He knew he needed to tell you about the bet tonight, especially since you almost found out about it accidentally right before the show. And also because Taehyung looked about ready to start climbing walls.

He had a rough idea of how he’d like to tell you: it had to happen in a beautiful spot that would make up for the awful revelation he was about to make. If not make up for it, then at least make it worth your while.

And he’d done his research—as always. This was the one lesson from your relationship that he hadn’t learned as he continued to strenuously plan everything in the hopes of making it memorable and unique.

“There’s this spot. The Wandelbos,” he said as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the corridor of the venue.

He pronounced the word with relative ease, making you wonder how many times he’d heard it. Then he showed pictures on his phone.

“This looks like a forest,” you commented, stopping to scroll through several photographs of squirrels and autumn trees—which wasn’t easy because he refused to let go of your hand as you held his phone.

“It’s a baroque park,” he clarified. “It’s beautiful, supposedly.”

You handed his phone back to him. “I’m sure it is. But not at two in the morning.”

“The path is star-shaped,” he continued, ignoring your interjection as the two of you kept walking. “And there’s a clearing in the middle with a pond and a bridge and—oh, and it’s only about six kilometres away.”

He held the exit door open, allowing you to walk out into the brisk night air.

Crossing the threshold, you looked at him with your eyebrows raised. “You want to walk over there?”

Actually, he did. But your question made him pause. “Uh... no?”

You stopped and waited until he walked out into the parking lot, but his attention was suddenly drawn to something behind you.

You ignored that and said, “well, we can’t rent bicycles at this time and—”

“Sorry—hold on for one second,” he stopped you abruptly.

You turned around and followed his gaze until you spotted Minjun by the restaurant across the street. Your lips parted in involuntary surprise, but it wasn’t Minjun’s presence that really startled you. It was the fact that he was leaning against a motorcycle, of all things, and there were two more bikes parked right next to him.

When you looked back at Jungkook, he looked almost relieved.

How wonderful it was, he thought, that Sid was such an insufferable idiot that he would decide to have a drag race in the middle of the Netherlands.

From across the street, the bike Minjun had rented out appeared to be a Kawasaki. Despite Jungkook’s previous bad experiences with the brand—involving a mild concussion and a dented metal fence, which, in his defence, appeared out of nowhere—this gave him an idea immediately.

“Could we go over there? Or maybe you could wait here for a minute?” he asked you while already walking away—and pulling on your hand until you had to let go because you were absolutely not going over there. He promised, “one minute!”

You could tell right away that he’d just found a potential means of transportation.

“Jungkook, that’s probably not a good idea!” you called out as he neared the street.

“I’ll be right back!” he shouted, forming the shape of a heart with both of his hands as he went.

You cringed as he crossed the street without looking both ways, but fortunately, there weren’t a lot of cars around. Unfortunately, however, you couldn’t hear what he and Minjun talked about due to the distance and the heavy gusts of wind.

You waited alone, with only your confusion for company.

If Jungkook stayed with the band while his friends went out, and now he went over there to borrow some devil-sent motorcycle, then clearly, that had to mean that he finally started to make smart(er) decisions while still being on good terms with his friends.

So, what was it that worried Taehyung so much?

“Dude!” Jungkook exclaimed across the street from you when he finally reached Minjun and scared the hell out of him with his shout—he flinched so vehemently that he nearly knocked the bike over. “Whose is this?”

“Uh—mine. We rented bikes for the race,” Minjun explained and glanced at you standing by the exit of the venue. “Sid was about to call you and force you to come with us—”

“I need it,” Jungkook interrupted, choosing to ignore the fact that there wouldn’t have been enough bikes if he had come along.

Minjun turned to him with raised eyebrows. “Huh?”

“I need to borrow it.”

“Borrow—it’s a rental.” Minjun turned his head to look at the neon green motorcycle. He knew that riding down the city streets with Sid and Jude on rented bikes was already reckless. Subletting the motorcycle to someone else, however, might be equally as stupid. “It’s in my name.”

“It’s the least you can do for me,” Jungkook said right away as if he had planned this in advance instead of only noticing Minjun and the motorcycle a mere two minutes ago.

His words weren’t entirely true, considering that Minjun wasn’t the one who had manipulated him into this mess. But Jungkook was appealing to his conscience—and that thing was eating Minjun alive. You could see it from across the street, even without knowing the reason for it.

Minjun bit his lip, fighting a very unpleasant battle with his own self.

“Okay. Fine,” he conceded, even though he knew very well what Sid would say about his impartiality and about the fact that he’d now have to ride as someone’s passenger—likely Jude’s, because Sid would rather cut his own head off than allow someone else on his bike, even if it was a rental. Hurriedly, Minjun added, “you have to return the bike back by midday tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook replied brightly. “That’s more than enough time.”

“I’ll text you the address of the rental place,” Minjun continued, getting his phone out.

Jungkook kept on nodding. “That’s great. You do that.”

His friend typed a text message and pulled out the keys to the bike from his jacket pocket. He tossed them to Jungkook just as his phone vibrated.

“Don’t wreck it,” Minjun warned. “Or yourself.”

Jungkook grinned, swinging his right leg over the motorcycle and putting the key in the ignition. “I won’t. Thanks again!”

His friend glanced back at the restaurant, suddenly grateful that the take-out was taking so long to prepare. This meant that Sid and Jude wouldn’t notice Minjun giving the bike away—even though they would notice it gone and would probably realise where it went.

Meanwhile, Jungkook revved the engine and turned towards the parking lot of the venue.

The Kawasaki felt unusual underneath him and it made him miss his Katana, but he swallowed the disconcert. Beggars couldn’t be choosers—this was better than nothing in any case.

He stopped right in front of you in the parking lot, switched the engine off, and leaned back from the handlebar to give you a smile.

“So?” He patted the side of the bike. “Ready for a ride?”

You shook your head, disapproving of the cheesy grin on his face, and sunk your teeth into your tongue to resist a smile.

There were numerous—numerous—reasons why you weren’t ready to climb on this bright green monstrosity that must have been visible from any space station above. If not visible, then certainly audible.

“There’s only one helmet,” was the one concern that you chose to voice.

Jungkook hadn’t considered that as he glanced at the helmet, attached to the tail of the bike. He leaned over to unhook it and offered it to you.

“No,” you said before he started to speak. “If anything, you should be the one wearing it. You’re the driver. And the vocalist of a band that’s literally on tour right now. You can’t perform if you get your head snapped off.”

“Can’t perform if I get yours snapped off, either,” he argued. “Put it on. I’ll go slow.”

This was still a safety hazard, and at first, you debated arguing. Then you tried to rationalise.

Jungkook hadn’t had any alcohol after the show—which was very unusual, now that you thought about it. He must have been planning something all along.

Additionally, the streets were mostly empty, except for one car whose driver gaped suspiciously at the many motorcycles on the street, narrowing his eyes at each and every one of them as he drove past.

There was also Minjun across the street, looking as though he was praying that you and Jungkook would drive off quickly.

“Come on,” Jungkook encouraged. You understood his impatience—if Minjun was here, the rest of the Insolent Idiots couldn’t be far behind.

You looked back at the helmet in his hands.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten on a motorcycle with Jungkook, but it had been a while.

He had always been a huge fan of anything that could reach over a hundred in under five seconds, so he’d been riding bikes since before he was legally allowed to. However, the two of you had already broken up when he purchased and restored the Katana that he never stopped talking about—so you’d never ridden with him when he actually owned the vehicle.

It occurred to you suddenly that Jungkook had probably never mentioned his motorcycle since the tour started. You made a mental note to ask him about that later.

Now, you finally took the helmet from him and pushed it over your head. Maybe the most important justification for your decision was this: you’d missed the excited twirling of your heart when he took you for a ride.

The joy that Jungkook felt as he watched you put the helmet on surprised him.

He remembered the first time you struggled to fasten the straps under your chin and managed to graze your skin. Now, listening to you sigh as you squeezed the helmet over your head and tightened the straps without his help, he realised that you hadn’t forgotten. That you were still used to this.

Excited shivers ran across his skin as you climbed on the bike behind him. But he could sense your apprehension—your initial instinct was to hold onto the back of the bike.

“Come on, now. This isn’t your first time,” he said, looking at you over his shoulder. “You know I won’t go unless I know you’re holding on tight.”

“I assure you,” you said. Your voice was muffled by the helmet. “I’m holding on tight.”

He clicked his tongue as he turned to face forward again. “I happen to not believe you.”

“Tough.”

“We’ll be here a while, it seems.” He released the handles and leaned back. “Maybe we should see if Sid wants to join us, I’m sure he would love to—”

“My God!” you groaned. “Fine.”

You wrapped your hands around his waist but kept your touch light, almost nervous. Grinning, Jungkook reached for your hands and pulled them closer to make sure you had a strong hold.

When he squeezed the clutch, he felt you tighten your arms around him even more. Satisfied that he could feel more of your weight against his back, he finally pressed the starter and pulled the bike off.

He raced down the street—much to Minjun’s relief—at a speed that definitely would have been dangerous for someone without a helmet if there had been other cars around. But the road was empty and there were hardly any turns to make.

And as he sped down these empty streets, you had to admit to yourself that this was, simply, thrilling.

The rapid pace seemed to elevate your insides, forcing you to hold onto Jungkook more tightly as you rested your head against his back and watched the streetlights blur together. The deafening sound of the engine, the dark visor of your helmet, the intoxicating speed, the rough metal underneath your thighs, and the soft leather of the jacket that he was wearing—all of it was absolutely exhilarating.

Jungkook knew—he’d always known—that you would have enjoyed the thrill of a late-night ride far more than a simple walk down the Tilburg streets.

And he was excited to see your silly grin and dilated pupils after you took off the helmet outside of the park. He was almost flustered by your glow—and by the fact that he was the reason why you looked so happy and so overwhelmingly full of life.

He nearly forgot to lock the bike as he looked at you.

But then the sudden memory of why he’d brought you here caught up to him like a painful crash.

“Uh, so,” he turned away, “should we go explore?”

“Might as well,” you joked weakly. Your legs were still a little shaky from the ride. “Since we’re already here anyway.”

“Right. Well, I wouldn’t mind taking another drive,” he said with a more confident smirk—that only grew in size and arrogance when he saw you smile at the suggestion. Then, he looked down and added, “but I also wouldn’t mind just walking and… talking.”

The two of you had done a lot of that—just walking and talking—since the tour started, so agreeing to this felt natural and harmless.

The park was beautiful indeed, just as the pictures on Jungkook’s phone had promised. Granted, walking through it at night when the streetlights were so sparse, provided a layer of eerie uncertainty—but even now, you were mesmerised.

In addition to the bold squirrels, peeking at you through the tree branches—their fur barely noticeable among the dark foliage, but their little beady eyes glistening—you could also see the sky above. You could see all of it, it seemed. And the patterns of the stars were so bright that you found yourself stopping several times, utterly captivated by them.

You regretted not learning the names of constellations—or how to differentiate them—but looking at the night sky was a breathtaking experience regardless.

The sky looked different here. And it felt closer, too. It was something you didn’t believe you could ever get used to, no matter how much you stayed here.

After a short while, you and Jungkook arrived at a pond, and he informed you that this was the very centre of the park.

It reminded you of home in an odd way, even though there weren’t many ponds back home—and none of them looked quite as charming as this one. Yet there was something familiar here, something homely. Even at night, in a park that resembled a forest more than a cosy picnic spot, there was something heartwarming here.

You could have been feeling this way, you supposed, because Jungkook was holding your hand as he guided you down a narrow plank over a dark creek. Without him, the eeriness of spending the night in an old park alone would have been much more noticeable. But with him here, it just felt comfortable. As if you both knew that you were destined to be safe from all harm here.

The stream ran deeper into the forest, and there were several benches scattered in the clearing on either side of the creek. The two of you sat down on one of them and listened to the silence of the trees and the gentle flow of the water.

Remembering suddenly, you spoke up—quietly, mindful not to disrupt the peace of all living things around you. “Did you know that my parents actually had their first date by a creek?”

Jungkook turned to you. He was more comfortable being loud, because he didn’t feel like a guest here. With you there, he sort of felt like the night—and everything that it touched—belonged to him.

“That’s a… very specific location,” he commented.

“Yeah.” You snickered. “There were no creeks in our town, dad took mum to the city where he grew up.”

“Oh, that’s actually nice,” he said, a little surprised. He’d never met your dad, but he knew that ‘nice’ wasn’t the adjective that was usually used in the same sentence as his name. “Was the creek special to him?”

“Not really,” you replied, shattering the romantic image that had already formed in his head. “It was the only pretty place that he could think of at the time. At least that’s what my mum thought.”

Careful, because this was a delicate topic and he didn’t want to come off like he was defending your dad, Jungkook asked, “she never found out if there was, maybe, more to it?”

“She never asked,” you said. “Either way, that date didn’t exactly end well. In the long-term, I mean.”

Jungkook looked down at the dark ground beneath his boots. A few blades of grass poked through the dirt on the shore of the creek.

“I know what you mean,” he said slowly. “But can you really say that with such certainty? She has two kids. And you’re both pretty great.”

You smiled at this, and it gave him the courage to smile, too.

“Thanks,” you said. “And yeah. I guess you’re right. Some good did come out of it.”

The two of you were quiet for a minute. It was a comfortable minute, too, but only as long as you managed to keep your mind empty.

You succeeded—the memories of the stories that your mum had told you were slowly fading, overtaken by the calming whispers of the trees around you—but he didn’t.

“I never asked—and I don’t want to intrude now, but, uh,” Jungkook started, “from what you’ve told me before, I assumed that your parents got back together at some point, right?”

You nodded with an exhale from somewhere deeper than just your chest.

“Several points, actually,” you said.

Happy that you seemed willing to share this, he encouraged, “yeah?”

“Yeah. She kept taking him back when I was young, and my brother was—well, a baby, essentially,” you said. “Everyone told her not to do it, not even for the kids. They told her to move on, maybe find someone better. My uncle—mum’s brother—protested against this especially much. He had been against their marriage from the very beginning. But my mum loved the guy.”

The smile on your face when you said that last part made Jungkook tense—it contradicted so much with the sadness in your eyes.

“Did he love her back?” he asked.

You were about to respond with a reflexive answer that had been ingrained in you by years and years of your mother screaming about how your father was a good-for-nothing loser, how he could never love anyone other than himself, and plenty of other colourful descriptions that you probably shouldn’t have known at your age at the time. And yet, despite the intensity of her emotions after every break-up, she still took him back. Until one day she didn’t.

And now you had to pause.

“That’s probably a million-dollar question,” you said with a sad chuckle. “I don’t know. Is that awful of me to say? She doesn’t think he did, but she still got back together with him so many times. So maybe he did love her in his own fucked up way. But I-I don’t think someone who loves you is supposed to hurt you like that.”

Jungkook had leaned back as he listened to you and he nearly toppled over backwards at your words.

You were right, of course.

Someone who loved you should have never hurt you.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “That’s, uh—that’s not awful. That’s sad, I think. Your mum deserves better.”

“She does,” you agreed. “But I understand now that—well, in a way, she is who she is because of all that happened to her. She’s very strong and she cares so much. And the fact that her only flaw is loving people too much, it’s—I don’t know. Lately, that just makes me admire her more. Because she sees the best in people. No one does that these days, everyone’s always afraid to get hurt. But my mum, she’s like—she’s fearless. You know? I genuinely respect that.”

“Even if she really does end up getting hurt?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah. Even then. And maybe that’s the thing,” you said, looking up at the sky again. “I mean, in general. The people we love are the only ones who can hurt us like that. Or, rather, it’s precisely because we love them that it hurts so much.”

“Hmm.”

He wasn’t sure if you were still talking about your parents by the time you reached the last few sentences, but he was too afraid to ask. He couldn’t even look at you as he stayed frozen in the same spot.

“I’m probably not making much sense,” you added with a small, uncertain laugh. “I just meant that it took me a while to understand my mum. Actually, I don’t know if I even fully understand her to this day, but um… I watched her give second chances to people who held the most against her and could hurt her the most. I thought they didn’t deserve it. But she... She knew the risk, she was familiar with heartbreak, and still, she stayed hopeful. For a long time, I resented that. I thought that was a—a weakness. It sounds cruel. But I thought I could never do that.”

You paused again. The memories—of more than just your parents—flashed in your mind a little too quickly for you to collect your thoughts. You looked down to compose yourself and felt Jungkook’s hesitant glance.

Finally, you finished, “all these years of watching the back-and-forth between my parents… It made me think that I could never give someone a second chance.”

Digging into the dirt with the heel of his boot, Jungkook asked, “you, uh… you don’t think so anymore?”

He glanced at you once more and then looked away again, even though you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was fixed on the creek in front of you.

“I don’t know,” you said after a moment. “I think I’m less decided about it now. I admire my mum for having the courage for it, even though it rarely ever works out. And now I guess I think that it is more of a case-by-case kind of thing. It depends on the person.”

Feeling as if his chest had absorbed the water from the pond and everything inside of him was being flooded, Jungkook didn’t dare to inhale.

Breathlessly, he asked, “what about me?”

“You?” you echoed awkwardly. He gave the smallest of nods in response.

You realised quickly that you hadn’t said this to him in over four years, and it felt terrifying to admit it now with the solemn trees, a hurried creek, and curious squirrels for an audience.

“Well, fuck.” You swallowed. “I mean, I love you. You know?” You chuckled to hide your unease and leaned down to touch the blades of grass growing under the bench. “Too much for my own good, probably.”

Jungkook suddenly forgot how to breathe. He looked up instead, but only caught a glimpse of the stars in the sky before he closed his eyes. The view behind his eyelids felt more special to him than the shimmering sky above—it was all darkness and dim echoes of you saying you loved him.

He couldn’t tell you now. How could he? You loved him.

And a second chance with you was all he’d ever wanted.

When he opened his eyes again, you were watching him. There was a haziness in your eyes—from the starry night, from the motorcycle drive, from the long overdue confession—and a small smile on your lips.

The moment that his eyes drifted to your lips, he felt himself inhale—more than once and he would have floated away—before he leaned in, responding to everything you’d said with a kiss.

He’d tell you about the bet, he would—but not now. Not when he felt your breath hitch as his lips touched yours. Not when you kissed him back, replacing all air in his lungs with your taste.

Right now, neither of you needed to say any other word as the forest around you settled. The leaves were frozen as if the wind didn’t dare to rustle them for fear of interrupting you.

The thought made you smile into the kiss—what a self-centred way to interpret your surroundings—and Jungkook pulled you closer.

For a minute, he made it feel like the world really did stop turning for the two of you. Like the forces of the universe had interfered to—

He pulled away all of a sudden, breathing so heavily that he was nearly hyperventilating.

He couldn’t do this. He’d already done too much.

The time that he’d borrowed—that he’d stolen—to be with you in peace had run out. Not even the universe could give it back to him.

“I’m sorry. There’s just, um,” he began, looking down and bringing a hesitant finger over his lower lip. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip over a beat.

Immediately, you found yourself returning to the hotel room in Amsterdam. It felt vastly different now and the difference sobered you up—you had been in your hotel room then, but you were alone in an empty park tonight. And you realised that discussing it here would be a mistake.

Whatever he was about to tell you might make it difficult for you to stay here and you would have no way to leave.

“Wait,” you said. The word caught him off guard. “Tell me when we get back.”

He blinked. The very reason why he’d brought you here was to tell you the truth in a place that was yours for the night.

“W-why?” he asked.

“It’s not fair to me otherwise,” you said. Your heart had shifted from pleasant pounding to near-panicked banging, and you were starting to feel nauseous. “I’d be very inconvenienced if I was left here alone.”

Jungkook appeared even more perplexed. “Why would you be—I’m not leaving. I’m staying with you.”

“That’s assuming I don’t kill you after you tell me what you’re about to tell me,” you tried to joke. There was a small—almost desperate—smirk on the corner of your lips.

Jungkook looked away.

“Oh.” Nervously, he licked his lips. He hadn’t considered you being so uncomfortable after he told you that you wouldn’t want him around. And now that he thought about it, he felt a little dizzy. “Well, that’s, uh… that’s fair enough. Should we—do you want to go back?”

The dread in your stomach seemed to grow at this question.

You knew that you had to be aware of what was happening with him, but the ceremony of it—the trip to this beautiful spot and the kiss that unintentionally coaxed him into the truth—scared you.

You wanted to resist the rational parts of your mind and stay here, where you had just forbidden him from speaking about this.

“Not really,” you admitted.

Jungkook nodded, relieved by your honesty. “Me neither.”

So, you stayed still for another minute. Then another minute. And another one. Until all the additional time you’d given yourselves had run out, too.

You peeked at Jungkook out of the corner of your eye, afraid suddenly that he would look back at you and then you’d have to talk, after all.

He seemed very far away. Much further than that first night in Amsterdam, when he came to your hotel room to talk.

Now there were sirens blaring in his head and a relentless pounding in his chest. You could almost hear it when you looked at him.

At last, you said, “but we can’t stay here forever.”

Despite looking like he had drifted into another realm deep inside of his mind, Jungkook sighed. He’d been listening to you breathe, listening to the way the wind played with your hair. He was here.

But he really wished he wasn’t.

“I know,” he said.

Still, the two of you remained on the bench for another five minutes, surrounded by the quiet rustling of the weary trees. Even they seemed anxious for you.

This might be the last silence the two of you would share, Jungkook thought grimly.

He felt terrified.

Finally, he took a breath and turned to you. “Let’s—”

A faint buzzing from the back pocket of your jeans startled you both. The sound seemed so foreign here, like something that had travelled across time and space, and accidentally ended up here—in your universe, where it didn’t belong.

You pulled out your phone and saw, first of all, that it was four in the morning, and then that Namjoon was calling you.

“I should take this,” you whispered, overwhelmed by the tension that had left your hands very cold.

“Go ahead,” Jungkook mumbled.

This was fine, he tried to tell himself while you stepped away from him to answer the call. He would take you back to the truck stop where the tour buses should have been parked by now. And then he would tell you.

And whatever happened next would—

“So, that was Namjoon,” you said, returning to him with your phone in hand. The call had lasted for less than a minute. “Apparently, someone stole Yoongi’s laptop.”

Nearly thrown off balance at the news that sounded somehow disrespectful, considering the many things you already had to process, Jungkook frowned.

“Someone stole Yoongi’s laptop?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said, sliding the phone back into your pocket. You knew something like this would eventually happen. “Namjoon said that he and Yoongi went out for more drinks, and when they got back to the bus, the laptop was gone. They’re not sure when was the last time they saw it.”

Jungkook stood up from the bench. “Well, why do they think someone stole it? Maybe he just lost it.”

“Yoongi’s not the kind who loses things,” you pointed out.

“Well, Namjoon could have lent a hand with that.”

You shook your head to conceal your small, involuntary smile and shrugged, acknowledging that there was a chance that this really was a false alarm. Especially if Namjoon was involved. You all loved him very much, but he had a talent like no one else to consistently misplace his own—and others—belongings.

“They were already quite drunk when I talked to them backstage before leaving,” you said. “So it’s possible they got even more wasted and just lost track of it. Either way, I need to go back and find out what happened.”

You returned to being the band’s manager, and Jungkook wasn’t sure how to handle the sudden switch. He wasn’t sure how to handle anything that was happening. This whole park was spinning around him.

He felt a little bit like the creek behind him as he watched you—flowing somewhere on pure instinct, with no clear destination in sight.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said. Hesitantly, he extended his hand for you to take—to help you over the loose wooden plank again. And to ground himself with your touch. “Let’s go, then. We’ll talk later?”

You took his hand. “Yeah. We’ll talk later.”

The truth was, you did not want to talk later.

You had a terrible feeling about it, and however irresponsible it may have been, you wanted to delay it as much as possible.

When you and Jungkook returned to the truck stop, Yoongi and Namjoon had already figured out where the laptop was. They looked very pleased to have remembered the Locate My Device app, never mind that you were the one who had kindly reminded them about it over the phone.

The laptop was, as it turned out, at a McDonald’s across the city. Neither boy could recall ever going there, so they remained convinced the device had been stolen.

You listened to their hypothesis with a serious face. But, unlike them, you were sober—the few beers you’d had after the concert were long forgotten—and you knew that the “thief” would probably be smart enough not to stop for a McFlurry after stealing someone’s computer.

The logical explanation was that your usually lovable and dependable boys had gotten so drunk that they’d forgotten about the fast food trip and left the laptop there themselves.

Regardless, you had to investigate. Because Yoongi and Namjoon were both pale with terror—and still buzzing from the spontaneous beer-tasting adventure that they’d gone on—it was up to you to find the computer.

You didn’t mind. This was your job, anyway. And you were eager to do something that did not involve talking about whatever it was that Jungkook wanted to talk to you about.

Jungkook, on the other hand, did mind. And it was evident when you exited the bus and saw him standing by the doors, pouting.

“I have to pick up the laptop,” you said, “and maybe report it to the police if it was really stolen.”

“Should I come with you?” he offered, not meaning to give you the option to refuse—which you took, of course.

“No,” you said, “you need to rest.”

“And you don’t?” he countered. “You’re the one who’s so overworked that—”

“Don’t start with that again,” you said, raising a stern hand to cut him off before someone overheard. You caught the flash of surprise in his eyes and the expression on your face softened a little.

You hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but you’ve had an impossibly long day.

“Don't worry about me,” you said. “This is my job. I have things to do. Laptops to save.”

“If I come, then—”

“Stay here,” you interrupted. “You had a show tonight. Now you have to get some sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

Biting his lip as mixed feelings of guilt and regret bubbled in his stomach, he asked, “we’ll, uh—we’ll talk, though. Right?”

“We’ll talk,” you promised. “Tomorrow.”

He fought with himself for another moment and then ended up saying, “okay. You never take me with you anyway.”

You didn’t have time to argue, so you kissed him before you went—quickly, softly, and with a nervous smile as you pulled away—and his heart seemed to leave with you as empty echoes of his racing pulse reverberated through his chest.

Tomorrow was very far away.

That would have been good if Jungkook still felt the paralysing panic from a few days ago. But even though he still felt scared now, he had already braced himself for the emotional consequences of telling you about the bet. Delaying it—against his will, this time—felt excruciating.

He knew he was the one to blame – he kissed you in the park instead of telling you about it right away, and then he agreed to wait until tomorrow.

And maybe this was what he deserved. He should have told you. But he hesitated and tried to convince himself of all sorts of irrational thoughts—and now here he was.

Alone.

And he was so frightened of being alone that he climbed right back on the motorcycle and headed to the address of the rental shop that Minjun had given him. He needed to do something, because he couldn’t sleep and he couldn’t scream at the top of his lungs, either.

Easily enough, Jungkook found himself in the bar of a hotel across the street from the rental shop. The shop didn’t open until eight, so he had a little over two hours before he could return the bike. A little over two hours before the night ended and he had to figure out what to do next.

He finished his first glass before a single thought could occur to him. By the second one, he felt his body start to relax, but chaos continued to reign in his mind.

What will I do, what will I do, what will I do?

As Jungkook lost track of how many drinks he had, he pondered every which way to reveal this to you and all the questions that you might ask.

What was the trip to Paris for? And the persistent way he followed you around? The conversation on the bridge in Stockholm? On the rooftop in Oslo? The bicycles in Amsterdam? The nights in your hotel room?

None of that was truly for the bet. But would it matter?

You said you loved him tonight. But you’d hate him tomorrow.

Maybe he could wait for five days until he formally lost the bet. Maybe he should tell you then. Maybe the fact that he lost something important to him would make up for—no.

Jungkook shook his head, nearly spilling the bourbon in his glass. He paused then, not even sure if he was still drinking bourbon. It all just tasted wet to him at that point.

Regardless, he couldn’t tell you after losing the bike. Even losing it didn’t seem like such a tragedy right now, compared to losing you.

While he agonised over it, the bartender continued bringing him drinks—always on the rocks, even though he couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The bartender was a kind elderly man, who probably should have known better than to keep serving alcohol to someone at six in the morning, but his experience told him that Jungkook was someone who needed it tonight.

Soon, however, Jungkook’s pride—his high tolerance for alcohol—became his biggest foe. He didn’t even realise how intoxicated he had become.

For all intents and purposes, he believed he was still fairly sober, considering how easily he spilt everything that was bothering him to the bartender. He even understood the advice he received in return—not that there was much to it.

“You have to tell her, son.”

He did have to tell you. He knew that.

And he was going to, he decided. Right now.

Jungkook found his way out of the bar with relative ease. Sure, he forgot that he had driven Minjun’s bike there, but he was able to walk without stumbling much, and that surely had to be an achievement.

Swaying only slightly, he stopped in the lot where the bus was parked and found your contact in his phone. Of course, the many emojis he’d used ensured that your name was the first one on the list, but he still found it easily enough.

Now, he had to admit this: he wasn’t sure if you actually answered his call. But he asked you to please, come outside, and within three minutes, you were standing in front of him.

If he had been aware of how drunk he was, he would have realised that he was screaming, so it didn’t matter if you’d picked up his call or not. You would have heard him anyway.

“What’s going on?” you asked, too confused to feel worried. You’d just returned with Yoongi’s laptop about half an hour ago. You weren’t sure if you’d even fallen asleep before coming outside again. “Are you drunk?”

There was exhaustion in your posture that Jungkook was too drunk to identify. You were very tired of dealing with the problems of drunk people tonight.

When Jungkook spoke, words poured out before he could properly think them through.

“Listen,” he said. His tongue felt oversized in his mouth. “I have to tell you something. I can’t—I should’ve told you this a long time ago. Maybe on the same day. Actually,” he hiccupped, “I never should’ve done this at all, then there would be nothing to tell.”

He hesitated for a moment, because in his mind—which was positively swimming in whiskey—he worried that his words may have caused a misunderstanding. He saw the frown on your face and cut in before you started to speak.

“Actually, no,” he said. “There would be things to tell. Because I like—I really—I like to talk to you. I want to tell you all kinds of things...” he paused here. Shook his head. “But not this. I don’t want to tell you this. But I must.”

He thought he came off very determined here, very confident. Really, he just sounded tired and drunk.

“Jungkook,” you said. “When I said we’ll talk tomorrow, I meant in the morning.”

“It’s—” He hiccupped again. “It’s morning.”

He wasn’t wrong, of course.

“After we got some sleep,” you clarified.

“Well, I can’t wait that long,” he insisted, stomping his foot and throwing himself off-balance. He had to lean against the side of the bus to stay upright.

You could tell that whatever he wanted to tell you was far worse than you expected. He was so drunk that he could barely stand, yet he was as determined as ever to get it all out right now.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. The anxiety that you’d evaded was quick to resurface, and even you felt a little unsteady on your feet.

“Okay,” you said. “Well, what is it?”

Jungkook straightened as much as he could.

A deep inhale, followed by a sharp, rushed exhale.

“I made a bet with Sid that I’d get back together with you.”

Silence came next.

You felt a sinking sensation deep within you as if something—an invisible current—was pulling you under the surface of the water. The ground beneath you swirled in uncertain whirlpools.

“Sid said I couldn’t do it,” Jungkook continued after a moment, his eyes cast low. “And I was—I wanted to prove him wrong. He is wrong. He’s always wrong, he’s such a—anyday. I mean, anyway. T-that’s not—I didn’t—this isn’t making any sense.” He slapped himself on the forehead in newfound frustration and you flinched at the abrupt motion. The slap only made the truck stop start to spin around him. Pressing his hands to his hips, he tried to explain, “I didn’t win or anything. Which you obviously know, since we aren’t back together.”

He laughed sadly here. You narrowed your eyes and felt one of them twitch.

The night was cold, and you clutched your arms tighter around yourself. Your posture was not aggressive—you gazed somewhere past him and you appeared frightened. You looked as if the wind might snatch you and carry you off to a place that he could not reach.

But then your eyes met his and there was a frigid emptiness there that he didn’t recognise. He shrunk into himself when he noticed it.

“I-I bet my bike, so I lost that,” he continued. “Well, not yet, but I’m going to lose it soon. Not on purpose, but Sid won’t fucking let me end the bet—” he cut himself off by inhaling again.

It seemed like there was so much oxygen in his lungs—he kept breathing in as he spoke, but never breathing out.

“That’s not the point,” he finished his thought. “What I wanted to do—to say, I mean—is that I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I shouldn’t have done that. It was stupid. Sid got in my head.”

“Sid,” you repeated suddenly. The sharp sound of your voice startled him into looking up. “Got in your head.”

He looked at you for half a heartbeat. Somewhere in the whiskey haze, he could recall his conversation with Taehyung—or someone who resembled Taehyung. Jungkook remembered something about this being his own responsibility.

But then, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who Taehyung even was. Because, to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he remembered who he was.

“That’s an—that’s… that’s an excuse,” he managed to say. The letter S tasted wrong in his mouth. He clicked his tongue and continued, “he’s always in my head. I should’ve known better. I—I’m so sorry.”

You were breathing heavily, but you weren’t speaking.

He blinked his heavy eyes, each one of his eyelashes like lead.

“I just… I want you to know that everything that happened—it wasn’t because of the bet,” he said, swallowing after a great struggle. All these drinks tonight, and his throat still felt dry. “It was because I am—I really have been in love with you the whole time, and I—but I couldn’t—I can’t ask you to get back together while there’s this bet going on. Not that you’d agree—I just hope that you would—but I... i-it wouldn’t feel fair. It’s so—it’s all so fucking stupid.”

He groaned again and covered his face with his hands for a moment while he tried to collect his thoughts. There was so much he wanted to tell you and all of it was coming out so quickly that he wasn’t sure he told you anything at all.

“I had to—I should’ve told you sooner,” he said. Then, biting his lip harder than he’d meant to—the metal piercing dug into it painfully—he added, more softly, “I’m really sorry.”

You remained firm in your position and really started to resemble a statue. Contrary to what he expected, you didn’t ask him a single question. You just stared at him without any distinct emotion in your eyes.

He didn’t know what to do.

“Aren’t you,” he said shakily, “going to say anything?”

You finally moved—to inhale, then exhale. All through it, your chin was turned up as you looked at the line of trees in the distance.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you,” you finally said.

It was a sharp knife to his chest, this hollow voice that was supposed to belong to you.

He hung his head and took a deep breath.

None of this mattered.

It was over.

“You’re drunk,” you added then. “Go to sleep.”

He thought he caught a glimpse of sympathy in your words and he grasped at this flimsy straw and held onto it with all his might.

“Y-you heard me, though, right?” he tried, his voice desperate, eyes watery. “None of it was for the bet, I really—”

“Go to sleep, Jungkook.”

He couldn’t go to sleep, not if it meant he’d have no one to wake up to.

“Can I—” He coughed, the words catching on the sandpaper in his throat. “Can I talk to you in the morning?”

You stayed silent for a long, almost never-ending minute. Jungkook counted each second in his head, and he knew he might have messed up the numbers at least three times, but it still felt like you’d never speak again.

“I don’t think,” you finally said, “we have anything left to talk about.”

You turned around, but stopped for less than a moment, seemingly hesitating when you heard him call your name. Then you took another step and opened the door of the bus, climbing inside and leaving him here alone.

This wasn’t the first time you walked away from him, but this time, he knew it was his fault.

And there was another element to the suffocating grip around his neck—ever since you began to manage Rated Riot, you’d never left him alone when he was drunk.

But you left him tonight.

And even drunk, he knew what it meant.

He thought he’d prepared himself for this. But the sight of your back as you walked away from him, the sound of the bus door as it clicked shut behind you, and the feeling of complete silence around him at the truck stop—it all finally knocked all the oxygen out of his lungs. It made his heart beat faster, ridding his bloodstream of alcohol until all that he felt was pain.

He was not prepared for this. He doubted he ever could have prepared for it.

But he should have known this would happen.

He really fucked up. He ruined everything. It was over.

Hunching over as he tried to inhale but couldn’t, Jungkook pressed his hand to his chest. He felt something pulsating under his fingers, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Someone had emptied out the cavity inside of him where his organs had once been and filled it with rocks.

His vision was white and blurred. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t stand.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

He felt himself slide over the side of the bus until he hit the floor and smacked his head into the bus wall as violent tremors took over his body. He tried to breathe as he counted the beats of his heart until he couldn’t listen to his pulse whispering the same conclusion to him over and over again.

It was over.

It was—

His hand dug into the gravel on the ground, then grabbed the front of his shirt and held it in a tight fist. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Nothing worked to stop the relentless judgment from breaching his resistant mind.

He ruined everything. It was over.

Jungkook didn’t know how long he struggled to fill his lungs with something other than the heavy, opaque pain of losing you again.

He didn’t know why he struggled, nothing even mattered anymore.

When he eventually realised that he was still here and you still weren’t, there was an early morning redness in his eyes and on the edges of the sky above him.

Most unusually, the only clear thought in his head was about the bike that he’d told Minjun he would return. Another promise that he had failed to keep as he suddenly remembered abandoning the motorcycle by the bar.

Then he remembered the bar.

He had already drunk half of it.

He struggled to his feet, rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms, and went back to finish the other half.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “what do you want from me?”

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personasintro · 7 months

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Mutual Help | #22

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 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

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

"Good work today, guys. The photos ended up amazing." Junho praises everyone as he holds the door for you and everyone else.

Thanking him, you walk beside your colleague who's got a frown settled on his face despite how amazingly this day went. "He barely lifted a finger today." Yoongi grumbles quietly, causing you to snort as you shush him.

"Shh, he's gonna hear you." you scold him.

Junho is a supervisor, making sure everything runs smoothly without him even lifting up a finger, just like Yoongi said. He's not a bad man, he just likes his position and forgets that the only reason he got it is because his daddy knows the CEO of the modeling agency you work for. It often leads to him barking orders whenever something gets wrong. The work is stressful, not just for you or for him, but for everyone. But it doesn't give him the right to be rude. However, whenever something doesn't go wrong and quite the opposite, he's a complete sweetheart praising everyone. Just like what he's doing right now.

"I don't care," he mutters, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as you're walking down the stairs. "Is that your boyfriend?"

You lift your head up, eyes dancing across the parking lot before you find Jungkook leaning against his car. Just like he promised, he's here to pick you up. His head is tilted to the side, jaw locked in place as a neutral frown adorns his usually soft features. He doesn't see you yet, and you're momentarily distracted by his tattooed sleeve and one of his tight black shirts that's doing a justice to his buffed out chest. Black ripped jeans show his muscular thighs perfectly, almost making your jaw drop but you're quickly reminded that you're in public. Your colleagues' giggles are sending you back to reality and you let out a small cough, before you shake your head.

"No," you answer, ready to add that in fact, Jungkook is your best friend, but you're forgotten to say it when he turns his head and looks at you.

His frown disappears and he gives you a smile as he waves at you. Chuckling, you look at Yoongi who seems to be eyeing Jungkook before he glances at you.

"See you tomorrow?" you ask, already taking slow steps towards Jungkook, backing away from Yoongi who gives you a nod.

"Try not to miss me." he grumbles, causing you to snort at his dry humor.

"I wouldn't dream of it." you scoff, giving him a wave which of course, he doesn't return but still nods his head in a silent greeting.

Typical Yoongi.

With each step you take towards Jungkook, his smile turns to a smirk as he drapes his arm over the top of his car. "Hey, baby." he jokes, causing you to roll your eyes as you poke him in the ribs.

He barely budges, poking you back as you squeak and frown at him. He pulls you closer, your heels making you stumble against his chest but he holds you tightly. Before you can react, he kisses you causing your eyes to widen but you allow yourself to melt into the kiss, especially when he grabs your cheeks softly. As he pulls away, he nudges your nose with his own and you gasp when you're remembered where you are.

"Jungkook!" you whisper shout at him, turning around to check if anyone saw.

Of course, there's Min Yoongi standing beside his white Toyota with an arched brow, staring right back at you.

Great.

"What?" Jungkook calls out innocently, eyes glancing at your colleague that's already getting into his car.

"Why did you kiss me?" you scold him when he turns his head back to you, facing you with a confused frown before his features soften and he looks innocently again.

In this deadly hot outfit that makes your knees buckle with a sudden urge to blow him.

What— No you didn't just think that!

"Because I felt like it," he shrugs, "Can we go? I'm so hungry." he whines, patting his stomach with a frown.

Sighing, you decide to ignore this whole situation because it's not that serious. Yoongi just caught you lying when in fact, you weren't really lying. He doesn't care about you or your personal life, it doesn't matter that much.

Your own stomach grumbles, reminding you that the chicken salad someone ordered for lunch is long gone and you're getting hungry again. You still need to go grocery shopping before you go to Jungkook's and have a movie night.

So, when Jungkook opens the door for you to sit down in his car, you thank him and send him a soft smile which he returns before he drives out of the parking lot.

Pushing the cart while walking around the shop, you're trying to find Jungkook who disappeared while you were deciding which pasta is the best choice, both in taste and price. It still can get you worked up over how much stuff is overpriced, even if it's food. It's unreal.

Jungkook is found in front of snacks — typical — with a puzzled look on his face while he faces the same struggle like you did with that pasta. He glances at you once you stop beside him, before he goes back to deciding if pretzels or bacon flavored crackers are better.

"I'll just take both." he mumbles, throwing them into the cart which makes you chuckle at his indecisiveness.

"We still need to drop them at mine." you tell him, walking through the aisle while he frowns in confusion.

"What? Why?"

"I won't drag all those groceries to your place and then back to mine. It doesn't make sense. Most of these have to go in the fridge anyway." you explain, tossing a pack of gummies before you can change your mind. You definitely don't need them, but these strawberry ones taste fantastic.

"Then sleep at mine tonight and I'll drop you home tomorrow." he shrugs, surprising you because none of this has been your plan.

Yes, you decided to have a movie night and even though the thought of coming back home late doesn't appeal to you, you didn't think you'd sleepover at Jungkook's. Not that you mind that, you just hadn't planned that.

"But I'm working tomorrow." you remind him.

"I'm having a shoot tomorrow, I can drive you to work and go straight to the shoot after that. And we can drop the groceries before or after your work." he suggests, eyes watching you while he waits for your answer.

"You're not my driver, Kook. I feel bad because—"

"Uh-uh, don't even finish that. I don't mind, really." he tells you, giving you a smile to prove his point and when you see determination behind those cute doe eyes, you know you've already lost.

"Okay," you tell him, rolling your eyes when he gives you his famous bunny grin as he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

You're not sure whether he's doing it because he needs some company, especially after that situation with Kiko, or not. But you feel bad for even thinking that, because this is exactly how your friendship looked like before he started dating her. He really planned most things, wanting to have you close to him while you did the most mundane things. And it's only fair and understandable that he needs his best friend.

"Y/N?" you look up, trying to find a source of the voice that seems familiar but for some reason unrecognizable.

That's until you finally find a young man standing just a few meters ahead of you, brown eyes searching your face before a soft smile appears on his lips. You recognize him immediately because he has barely changed.

"I thought it's you." he says, his eyes slowly drifting to Jungkook before they're back on you.

"Haechan," you breathe out, surprised that you see him here but you still manage to give him a smile while he walks up to you.

He hasn't changed that much. His cheeks are more prominent and hair slightly darker, but he still looks youthful and handsome just like you remember him.

"Hey, what are you doing here? I thought you moved back to Daegu." you smile, voice laced with curiosity and surprise even though there's a slight awkwardness that you feel.

This is your ex, for fucks sake. Even though your breakup wasn't a disaster and you both agreed to it, it's still kind of awkward to meet someone whom you were dating for a few months. And took your virginity.

"I did, but I'm visiting some friends and they asked to buy some food along the way. I know, amazing friends." he chuckles, glancing down to the small cart in his hands.

Wow, now that you look at him closely he seems to be more buffed out. Is he working out?

You laugh at his little comment, biting your lower lip as you see from the corner of your eyes Jungkook, who shifts almost in discomfort. Your eyes widen in realization, catching both of their attentions.

"Oh, this is my friend Jungkook. You remember him?" you say, touching Jungkook's hand as Haechan looks at your best friend and gives him a polite smile.

"Yeah, it hasn't been that long, Y/N," Haechan jokes, your cheeks flaming red as you give him a tensed chuckle and a nod. "Well, I don't wanna bother. It was nice seeing you."

You give him a nod, wondering if he always had such a cute face and smile. No, no stop. You need to remember why you two never worked out and broke up. But you can always admire from a distance, right? He just brings some old feelings and memories that weren't always so bad.

"Yeah, you too. Bye." you wave at him, before he gives a quick nod to Jungkook who returns it and Haechan takes that cue to continue with his shopping.

You let out a short breath when he's gone, glancing behind you but he's out of your vision. When you turn around, you're met with Jungkook's raised brow as he's got that skeptical look on his face.

"What?"

"Why did you tell him I'm your friend?" he asks curiously, tilting his head to a side as you stare at him in confusion.

There's no attitude or edge to his tone, he sounds genuinely curious and slightly confused.

"Because you are?" you remind him, "What was I supposed to tell him?"

"Well, what if he knows one of our friends?" he asks, causing you to scoff.

"I doubt it and even if it's none of his business. Is that all you care about? That your little lie could blow up and someone might find out?" you ask him, not sure where's the attitude coming from but you're getting frustrated all of a sudden.

"No, I thought you might want to see his face once you tell him you have a boyfriend. And it's enough that Hoseok along with Jimin and Tae look really suspicious about us. We need to be careful." he reasons and even though, you know he doesn't have any bad intention and is only being careful, it irks you even more.

"No, I don't need to tell him I've a boyfriend because I don't have any. I don't need to make up some lies because I'm not interested in him that way." you tell him and Jungkook scoffs. You give him a glare that says 'what', not really expecting him to react but he does.

"Oh bullshit, I saw that look on your face. You were checking him out." you gasp at Jungkook's words, growing embarrassed because yes, you looked at Haechan but you weren't checking him out. Were you?

"I wasn't checking him out!" you exclaim, words shushed to make sure no one else hears you.

Thank god, you're alone in this aisle and there's no one else that could hear your conversation.

"Uhm," he scoffs, "And did you just call me out about the whole lie thing? You know why I did that and for you to say something like that— it's not fair."

"That's not what I meant, Jungkook." you shake your head, growing tired of this sudden argument or whatever this is.

You feel a sudden guilt, especially when you see the hurt flashing on his face before he masks it with a frown.

"You know how important this is for me, and the last thing I want is for anyone to find out. I trusted you with this and it seems like you're not really taking this seriously. You said it yourself before, Hoseok was freaking suspicious about us and after the camping trip, don't think I haven't noticed Jimin and Taehyung staring at us. I know that look, they know something's not right." he says, voice low but quick and you know if you weren't in a grocery store, his voice would raise so he could prove his point.

And you understand him and know where his frustration's coming from. Because he's still trying to win Kiko back, despite what he found out and it broke his heart all over again. Maybe he doesn't have everything sorted out yet, but your little plan is still going on. Although you listen to him and understand the meaning behind his words, you can't help but grow even more irritated.

"It's your fault Jimin and Tae are suspicious. If you weren't running after that cheating—," you stop yourself before you can say something that would cause a bigger fight, "They wouldn't notice something's wrong or weird."

"You done?" he asks, clenching his jaw.

Again, you see the hurt in his eyes because you just reminded him what happened all over again, even though he never forgot about that. It's like adding salt into the wound. You just did that.

"I just don't think you're being fair right now." he says, his voice turning calm because there's an obvious tiredness in it. He doesn't want to fight.

"Are you?" But you still shoot right back, voice bitter and cold.

Before he can react, you're already pushing the cart forward ignoring his tired plead of your name that leaves his mouth, ready to pay for your stuff. Even when he catches up to you, he helps you to load your stuff onto a conveyor belt before he packs it into one big bag while you pay for your stuff.

You ignore his side glances, acting like he's not there at all even when he puts your groceries to the truck and goes inside the car where you're already sitting. However, he doesn't start the engine and just sits there standing out of the windscreen.

"I don't know what happened back there," he starts slowly, "But I'm sorry."

"I don't need you to be sorry, Jungkook," you frown, voice bitter again.

You really don't want him to take all the blame when you know you had your share in this fight.

"You should realize that not everything is about Kiko. I'm not going to tell everyone you're my boyfriend just in case she finds out. It's not me being irresponsible. Even if she found out from someone else, we could just say we don't want everyone to know. I don't need to lie to everyone, it's enough that we're lying to our friends."

And again, you put a blame on him without you even wanting to say it that way. But you understand how your words sound as soon as they're out of your mouth and there's no going back. And you're too much of a coward to look at Jungkook.

"Okay, I understand that." he murmurs softly, slowly turning the engine on as he drives out of the parking lot.

"Jungkook, that's not what I meant." you close your eyes, mentally slapping yourself for not being more considerate to him.

"No, I feel awful to be lying to Jimin and Taehyung. I just haven't realized how much until you said it." he admits, slowly shaking his head.

In a way, Jungkook is right. You're not acting responsible and it might look selfish, because you know how much this means to him. That's why you agreed to it in the first place, not because you get something in return. Which is a bonus, but it wasn't the main reason why you chose to help him this way.

"You want me to take you home?" he asks quietly, your head snapping to his but his eyes stay on the road.

He nibbles on his bottom lip almost nervously, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other one rests against the armrest on the driver's door.

"You want to take me home?" you ask instead, no bitterness audible in your voice as he's met with a soft and vulnerable tone.

Your question makes the corner of his mouth quirk up, and your shoulders relax as soon as he shakes his head.

"No, I'd like you to stay over. But if you don't want to, I can just drive you home." he suggests, causing you to shake your head almost immediately.

"No, no. I want to stay over." you assure him.

Jungkook gives you a nod and turns on some cheerful melodic music that contrasts with the atmosphere in the car. One thing is sure, you both regret what happened but there is still some kind of truth in your and Jungkook's words.

Jungkook is choosing a movie on his huge ass television by the time you've placed your groceries to his fridge for the time you're staying here, before you make your way next to him.

"This is supposed to be a new movie and apparently, it has some great reviews." he speaks up, glancing at you as you shift on your spot in modesty.

You still haven't changed your work clothes and now that the two of you fought, you're tense and not so sure what to say without making everything more dramatic and awkward in any way.

Almost as if Jungkook can hear your thoughts, he makes himself comfortable while he stretches his arm on the back rest behind you, glancing at you. "Come here." he tells you softly, giving you a slight smile in encouragement which doesn't make you relax entirely but it helps to smooth the crease between your eyebrows.

Scooting closer to him, you're able to feel his warmth and that delicious scent he always carries that makes you want to swoon all over him. Which you're doing right now, especially when you can't get your eyes off him. Those dark eyes of his are so alluring, beautiful even and he looks so handsome and cute at the same time. Fuck, you're screwed. Why can't your best friend be ugly? Okay, that's kind of a mean request.

"I'm sorry," he tells you softly, eyes dancing across your face as he waits for your reaction.

"Why are you apologizing?" you ask confusingly, partly out of curiosity as well.

"That we fought? Everything, I guess. I shouldn't have assumed you'd tell your ex that— there was no reason for you to lie to him. I just panicked because my mindset is just set that no one can know. It wasn't the right thing to do or say, I'm sorry. It's not my place to tell you what to say or do." he apologizes, seeing you sigh as you shake your head.

"Well, I was overly bitter about it and I snapped at you which I shouldn't have done. I know how important this whole thing is for you, and you've told me how you want things to go. I understand that you thought it was irresponsible of me. I'm sorry that I blew up at you." you tell him quietly, fumbling with your fingers like you used to when you got in trouble in a primary school and your parents were scolding you.

But Jungkook isn't scolding you.

"I guess we're both sorry about something." he chuckles lightly, bringing some light to the conversation that's taking place in his living room.

You muster the courage to look at him, relief settling on your heart as soon as you see his cute smile that he's giving you. "Yeah, I guess we are." you smile, staring at him as he inches closer.

He nudges your nose with his, making you giggle as he lets out another chuckle before he licks his lower lip. "I'm sorry." he apologizes again.

"It's okay," you assure him.

You and Jungkook have barely fought, if ever. It was always just a pure bickering between best friends, nothing serious or worth some serious conversation. But this time it's different for both of you, maybe that's why he feels such a need to apologize all the time and make sure everything's okay between you two. You get that because you feel the same way.

"I'm sorry too." you whisper, eyes admiring his soft features that you see up from close. His little mole underneath his lower lip or the scar he got when he was a kid and fought with his older brother.

You're both moving closer, breaths mingling together before he connects your lips and kisses you hard but slow and passionate. You participate in kissing as much as Jungkook does, moving your lips against his smoothly and following his pace that still stays the same — tender and passionate. His hands cupping your face moving down your neck and getting back to your cheeks feels amazing, his touch leaving an electrifying feeling on your skin.

The need to get closer to him is stronger, and you listen to your heart by slowly moving to his lap as you straddle him. Jungkook's hands grab your hips, squeezing them slightly as he still kisses you and refuses to pull away. Moving your hips, you grind into his crotch and moan when you feel his bulge. He's not hardening yet, his bulge soft but still pretty obvious from what you feel and see when you look down. Cupping your cheeks, he's chasing your lips for another kiss and you happily obey, letting him explore your mouth some more.

He pulls away to catch a breath, allowing you to do the same but he takes that opportunity to hold you tighter before he's pressing you down onto the couch. You squeal, giggling when your body is slowly put down onto his soft couch while Jungkook hovers you with a smile playing on his pink lips. Stretching your legs, you give him much more space between them as he happily takes it and grabs your thighs. He traces your black stockings, admiring them just like he did this morning, before his eyes flicker back to yours.

"Do you like these?" he asks, both palms caressing your thighs as they disappear underneath your hiked up skirt.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what he's asking, your mind already too busy with the feeling of his hands.

"Well, they're not my favorite but I li—" You're cut off by a ripping sound, air hitting your skin that leaves you breathless because you realize, Jungkook just ripped off your stockings right at your crotch exposing your lacy panties.

"Did you just rip my stockings?" you ask him with a frown, glaring at him even though it's quite obvious that yes, he did.

He lets out an amused chuckle, leaning down to nudge his nose against your cheekbone before he murmurs; "You said they're not your favorite." he points out, causing you to snicker.

"That doesn't mean you had to rip them!" you exclaim, mouth shutting as soon as he cups your heat over the lacy panties and squeezes.

He smirks, causing you to glare at him even though there's this huge urge to grind into his hand. Ignoring your glare, he kisses you again while he hooks his fingers under your panties and starts circling your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat, Jungkook's name resounding from your mouth as soon as he starts stroking your heat, noticing how wet you already are. He doesn't comment on it, still kissing you slowly and passionately while he keeps rubbing those long fingers all over you.

"More, I need more." you gasp between the kisses, not caring how pleadingly you sound. For all you know, it only strokes Jungkook's ego when he hears, sees or feels how needy you're for him.

Listening to your pleas, he enters you with one finger which feels amazing, but not good enough.

"More," you murmur against his lips, hearing him chuckle again at your persistence.

"Aren't you greedy?" he teases, still pumping his finger out of you while you whine in response.

"Please," you moan, grinding into his hand that makes him curse and add another finger.

The stretch is stronger now, his fingers moving in and out of you brush against your velvety walls amazingly. Jungkook knows your body and he uses that every time to make you feel good. When you keep getting greedier, Jungkook adds another one and pumps his three fingers with the same pace, making sure he circles your clit with his thumb every now and then for extra pleasure.

"Good, so good." you moan, back arching from the couch.

You need more to be able to cum, as much as Jungkook's finger feels amazing, the pace isn't enough to make you cum. But it still gives you at least some pleasure and you can't bring yourself to say something more. However, your pleasure is completely cut off when Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you and puts them in his mouth to clean them. The view is rather arousing, something worth looking at and admiring.

Jungkook finds the zipper, taking off your skirt as he tosses it on the coffee table before he does the same thing with your panties. Cold air hits your core, even more when Jungkook grabs your knees and pushes them apart, showing your glistening heat that makes his eyes dance with sparkles. Slowly, he licks his bottom lip as he glances at you, giving you a smirk before he plops himself between your legs with his head right there. You almost yelp out of surprise when he starts licking long stripes against your pussy, catching all your arousal to replace it with his saliva as he tastes you. He hums against you, the sound making you shiver as you wait for his next move.

His movements are slow, as if he's savoring every second of what he's doing to you, but he's not overly slow because he's not doing the same thing for an hour but moves to another in a minute. He enters you with his tongue, moving it in and out like he did with his fingers, but this feels different and still fucking amazing, leaving you moaning and gasping for air.

"Fuck, Kook," you moan, his tongue easing out of you as he starts making out with your heat. "How are you so good at this?" you choke out, hearing him chuckle against your pussy.

You feel yourself clenching, body craving for orgasm so much that your legs start to shake but you stop yourself, fingers dipping into Jungkook's thick hair to stop him as you tug on them. But he doesn't completely understand your nonverbal request, growling against your heat as he picks up the pace.

Gulping, you're trying your voice as you tug on his hair even more. "Kook, stop. I want you." you moan out, almost crushing his head with your thighs.

He stops, lifting up his head and the sight that awaits for you as soon as you open your mouth makes your jaw drop. Doe eyes stare at you, surprised that you've stopped him when he could feel you almost coming on his mouth. His black hair is ruffled, completely messy while his face is glistening with your juices and his saliva mixed together. It's naughty, but you love every second of it and it makes you crave him even more.

"I wanna cum around you." you tell him, chest heaving with harsh breaths as he listens to you and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"Whatever you want, baby." he says, pecking your inner thigh before he pulls away and sits onto his knees. He stares at you for a moment, eyes looking much darker now.

Standing up, you watch his every movement, especially those tattoos and veins decorating his muscular arms. His hands go down, reaching for the belt as he starts unbuckling it. He starts taking off his clothes, painfully slow but maybe it's just you because you can't wait to feel him. Sitting up, you join him and start unbuttoning your blouse. He's watching, eyes traveling down your body, stopping at your breasts that are covered with a lacy pink bra that match with your panties that are already thrown somewhere on the floor. He gulps visibly, seeing your breasts spilling out of the bra when you finally take it off. It seems to kick him up, fastening his movements before he stands in his boxers in front of you.

"I'll be right back." he tells you, not leaving before he kisses you and hurries to the bedroom.

Sitting up naked, you hypnotize the open door until Jungkook walks out of there with something in his hands. You recognize it as a condom and bottle of lube which you question with a raise of your brows.

"It'll be easier," he explains, setting it down onto the coffee table.

You know what lube does, you're not stupid. But he has never used it with you, but considering how he ate you out just a few minutes ago it's only understandable that he wants to use one.

"You ready?" he asks, although your hungry eyes that drink him in, standing there almost completely naked and exposing his beautiful body to you, says it all.

It's not just his body. Obviously, he's hot. But it's everything that makes him so perfect. From top to bottom, enough to make you salivate like a hungry woman that's out of control. His hair slowly falling to his eyes, not enough to hide his sharp jawline that seems to be even more prominent the way he stands and stares at you. Dark tattoos contrast with his softly looking skin, decorating it and making him look even more special because all of his tattoos are his. Even though some of them might seem pointless. They're just so Jungkook.

He takes a few steps closer to you, leaning down to kiss you again. It's funny, he's kissing you tonight so much, almost like he can't get enough of it. Or you.

As he pulls away, he slowly takes down his boxers, exposing a hard length that slaps against his toned stomach. Fuck, you could kiss for those abs. You want to touch him, to taste him just like he tasted you because it's been awhile since you've done it. But before your fingertips can even touch his velvety skin, he takes your hand and caresses the back of it with his thumb. Giving you a smile, he shakes his head before he takes the condom and rips it open. You watch his every step, the way he puts the condom until he tugs it down his length to cover it. He opens the bottle of lube, squirming some of it directly onto his length before he uses his hand to spread all over it. You gulp at him giving himself a few pumps, veins popping out of his skin as he moves his hand slowly but holds a tight grip around his hard length.

Glancing back at you, he gives you a faint smirk before he joins you on the sofa and starts hovering over your body. It feels like you're hypnotized, you're laying back down and spreading your legs to give him space between them which he gladly takes. Your hands explore his chest, caressing his skin there as he leans down and pecks your lips.

He stares into your eyes, not budging or even blinking as he takes himself into his hand and slowly enters you. Gasping, you close your eyes but pry them open because you want to see him and fuck, it's such a worthwhile view. He fills you up, not thrusting in harshly but the opposite, slowly and gently. When he's all in, he lets you adjust to his size while he's kissing you, your hands exploring his muscular back and going back to his chest.

There's no need for words. When your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer and signaling that you're ready, he starts to pull out. His tip stays inside before he enters you all over again. The last time you both had sex was at the camping trip in a tent, where it was very similar like right now. Although, his thrusts were slow and you really took the time to feel each other, and explored a different kind of sex, this feels new. His thrusts are slower, almost romantic as he stares into your eyes to the point you feel like he's staring into your soul instead. Your heart shakes weirdly and you need to close your eyes. Jungkook picks up at the pace, still not setting it brutal like you expect him to. No, he sets up a smooth pace that makes you both breathless and grabbing each other, all while he steals a couple of kisses from you before he hides his face into the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he gasps, voice muffled and deep. "So sorry." he apologizes, bringing up your argument that happened just today.

Pulling him even closer, he hits your spot even deeper and you both groan at that.

"I'm sorry," you tell him back, knowing that you've had your own share in the argument. "I'm sorry, Kook."

"No, you're perfect," he groans, rolling his hips that makes your eyes roll back. "You're so good to me."

You've no idea if the lust and emotions are speaking out of him, or he's just blubbering stuff without even realizing what he's saying but regardless of that, it makes your heart jump and hips rolling back into his. You match his pace, giving as much effort as you can to bring both of you an orgasm.

"Kook," you moan, feeling yourself clenching and making it harder for Jungkook to move but he makes it work.

"I'm right here, baby," he growls, sweat coating both of your bodies that are on heat. "Let go." he tells you, setting an even faster pace that makes your breasts bounce and his balls slap against your ass more intensely. He takes that chance to envelope your nipple into his warm mouth as he sucks on it.

That's the last drop, the knot in your stomach relaxing as you're cumming around him. He rides you through it as usual, bringing himself over the edge too and with a couple of more thrusts and you whimpering from overstimulation, he lets go of your nipple and opens his mouth. A growl leaves his mouth before he's cumming, filling up the condom with his seed. He drops his face into your chest, breathing heavily as you coax him by caressing his back.

Kissing your chest, he lifts his head up tiredly to look at you through hooded eyes. You both have fucked up expression, but you're smiling like you're both high.

"I'm sorry." he says, his smile fading as you sigh, running your fingers through his hair that falls onto his eyes, pushing them back.

"You said that," you smile, "a couple of times. And I'm not angry."

"I know you aren't," he tells you gently, keeping his tone quiet and raspy. "And that's why I don't deserve you."

You snort at that, shaking your head. "It wasn't completely your fault, Kook. Stop blaming yourself for everything, we both just got frustrated." you explain to him, not wanting him to feel guilty.

"But still..." he shrugs, his length sliding out of you as you both cringe before chuckling at each other.

"Now, let's not talk about this anymore." you tell him, breath hitching when he reaches for a stand of hair and pulls it out of your face.

"Are you sure?" he asks, head cutely tilting to the side.

Giggling, you clap onto his naked back. "Yup, I am sure." you assure him.

"Let's take a shower, I ordered some takeout when you were putting your groceries to the fridge." he says, carefully not to crush you as he lifts himself up.

He slides off the condom and ties a knot at the end, while you stand up and stare at your ruined stockings.

Well, at least he ordered food.

"You're buying me new ones."

"Hm?" he lifts his head up and stares at you in confusion.

Head nodding towards your stockings. "My stockings. You ripped them for no reason."

Raising your brow at him, you give him a tiny smirk as you walk past him. However, the slap that comes in contact with your ass is a total shock and you jump, ready to send a glare to Jungkook.

But he's quicker, walking past you but not before saying; "Whatever you say, baby."

And he walks into the bathroom, leaving you speechlessly staring where you've last seen him and his disappearing figure. Chuckle of disbelief leaves your mouth as you join him, because this man is purely unbelievable.

#jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #mutual help #personasintro

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lo1k-diamonds · 2 months

Text

Unique 💜 (Part 1)

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon/OC

SUMMARY: After overhearing something he shouldn't have, Namjoon promises to make it up to the bride by keeping her bridesmaid company during the rehearsal dinner party. What was supposed to be an unremarkable night became something so much more.

WORD COUNT: 20.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers (bonus: Yoongi has a secret)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, first meetings, light angst, Namjoon is a communication and consent king, protected sex, oral, fingering/handjob, toys, sapiosexuality, body worship, dirty talk, mouth riding, I think I can say switching (+ BTS being chaotic around RM and making him all embarrassed 😁)

(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted there in March 2023)

A.N. Part 1 stands as a one-shot so I'm going to post it here to complement all the snippets from Part 2. I just love this one bad and I'm not even sure I can do it justice in the sequel 😩

Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. ― Khalil Gibran

“When’s the last time you’ve seen her?”

Jimin’s voice echoed in the corridor as the other six men followed him.

“Before the tour, definitely,” Hoseok answered with a grin.

“Right?” Jimin asked, glancing at the others for confirmation.

“She didn’t even wait for us to have a bachelorette party,” Jin whined.

“Of course she couldn’t, she couldn’t wait until the eve of the wedding,” Taehyung scoffed.

“Why not?” Jungkook pouted with a raised eyebrow. They all stopped in front of the apartment door. “It’s what they do in the Hollywood movies, right?”

“She can’t attend her wedding with dark circles and a hangover,” Yoongi scoffed at their silliness. “That’s a Hollywood invention.”

“But she could have waited for us,” Jungkook pouted.

“And deal with BTS at her party?” Hoseok shook his head with a smile.

“Yeah, this is way better, guys,” Namjoon finally intervened. Jimin rang the doorbell. “This way we have a nice drink with her before the big party, and it will be just us remembering old times.”

“That’s right,” Hoseok agreed with a warm smile.

Jimin turned with a grin, “Maybe this is the time she’ll tell us all about the cream incident—”

“Uhhhh, won’t you look at the time—” Yoongi suddenly stammered, turning around with the intention to walk away.

Jungkook and Jin grabbed him, blocking him while everyone smirked. They teased him about it, but it was short-lived. The door opened and they all turned to greet the woman they wanted to meet.

“There’s our bride!”

“Our Hyejin is glowing!”

“Wow, you look so beautiful!”

“So pure and fresh!”

She giggled with a wide grin, pulling her long dark hair behind her shoulders. “I spent the day at the spa,” she boasted, stepping away for them to come in.

They complimented her complexion and radiance for a hot moment before she shooed them over to the living room.

“Wait there, I’ll be with you in a second.”

Namjoon was the last one in, and he stood around while the guys sat on the sofa and chairs in the dining room. Their chat was nice until they noticed Hyejin was taking way too long.

“I’ll go check on her,” Namjoon offered. He was already standing anyway.

“Bring alcohol,” Jimin asked playfully, making the others laugh.

Namjoon grinned and shook his head at their goofiness, but before he could enter the kitchen, he froze.

“We should finish our conversation,” a female voice said. What shocked him was not that he didn’t recognize it, but that it spoke in English.

“No, we should leave it for tomorrow. The friends I grew up with just arrived,” Hyejin’s tone was soft and hopeful. “I would like you to meet them.”

Whoever it was puffed, “I don’t speak Korean, you know that.”

“Angie—”

“Besides, don’t you think you should think about this before getting married?”

Hyejin released a deep impatient breath, “We shouldn’t speak of it right now—”

“It’s in English, they won’t understand anyway,” Angie dismissed dryly.

Hyejin was pressing her lips, “You’d be surprised. Actually—”

“Stop trying to dodge the issue.”

Namjoon took a deep quiet breath, he should probably announce himself before—

“I’m no one's reference in this, Hyejin,” Angie sighed. “But you should obviously find what works for you, not try to fit someone else’s ideal.”

“You say that, but you’re every guy’s ideal.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows twitched; Hyejin sounded upset. He wondered what they were talking about.

Angie laughed bitterly, “That is so far from the truth!” Unbeknownst to Namjoon, she was shaking her head with a sour smile. “Sure, in theory, every guy wants a girlfriend that enjoys and wants to have sex, but none like it when she has a bigger libido than they do.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows skyrocketed.

“How big exactly are we talking?” Hyejin suddenly perked up. She was very persistent when she wanted to. “No, let’s put a number on it. How many times have you had sex in the last month?”

Angie snickered, “Exactly zero.”

Hyejin was taken aback for a second, then she nodded, “Of course, you’re single.”

Angie raised her eyebrows, “That’s not why though…”

“Alright, then how many times did you masturbate in the last month?”

“Month??” Angie’s brown eyes were wide. “How am I supposed to count? Ahm, I guess…”

Namjoon was blushing, he rubbed his face to hide the embarrassment. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he wasn’t moving.

“Forget it then. What about… in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Three.”

Namjoon raised his head, that was a fast answer.

“Three?!”

Angie rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god, just go and have sex,” Hyejin smirked. “Let’s go out, I'll be your wing woman.”

“It’s not about that,” Angie’s voice was strained. “What I truly crave is intimacy. That’s why once is not enough, the orgasms feel thin as if something is missing. And to have sex, well… You know me, I need to trust the guy, to be able to have a conversation…”

“You’re too picky,” Hyejin had a playful tone.

“And here I was thinking I wanted the bare minimum…”

Hyejin laughed and suddenly gasped. She had crossed the kitchen’s archway to find Namjoon just standing there, out of sight, with his back against the wall. His eyes widened at being caught, his cheeks were red as tomatoes and he opened his mouth to surely stutter an apology.

“I’m going to bed,” the voice from the kitchen said, and Hyejin turned back to look at her best friend.

She glanced at Namjoon for a split second then smiled, “You know I got your back, right?”

Angie smiled, “Of course, and I got yours. You’re right, let’s talk better tomorrow,” she rubbed her face and pulled her sandy-colored hair back. “I’m too tired. At what time for brunch tomorrow?”

“Eleven,” Hyejin smiled after giving Namjoon a stink eye so he would stay where he was.

He was closing his eyes with his lips between his teeth, cursing his stupid curiosity. Hyejin was going to kill him.

“Perfect, I need to sleep my jetlag off. It’s the only hope I have to look like a human being tomorrow.”

Hyejin chuckled at Angie’s playfulness and waved her goodbye. Angie left through the opposite archway to reach the corridor that led to the bedrooms.

Then Hyejin turned to the red elephant in her dining room with a harsh look.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—”

“I can trust that that conversation will—”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.”

“And the other guys?”

“Won't ever know about it.”

Hyejin released a deep breath, then eyed Namjoon from head to toe. The instant she saw him she cursed her luck that the only BTS member who was fluent in English was the one who happened to overhear their conversation. But now… maybe that was actually a blessing in disguise.

“Do you really regret it?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yes, of course!” He sounded pleading. “I should have never—”

“Namjoon! Oh—” Jin stumbled on them in surprise, “What is taking you so long?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, not sure of what to say, but Hyejin answered first, “He’s helping me with drinks. Soju?”

“And beer!” Jungkook yelled from the living room.

Jin grinned at the maknae’s request, then turned back to the two of them. “I’ll help—”

“No, Jin oppa, it’s okay,” Hyejin smiled. “I was talking with Joonie…”

Jin’s eyebrows raised, “Well, and I can’t hear it?”

“It’s important,” her tone was sweet as she pouted, and Jin sighed.

“Fine, I’ll leave you two be.”

Jin shrugged and left them, telling the others they’d bring drinks soon. Namjoon and Hyejin were close, it wasn’t weird that she wanted to speak with him alone.

She turned to Namjoon, “Make it up to me. To us.”

He frowned slightly, but then nodded, “Sure. What can I do?”

Hyejin licked her lips but then decided. “I would like it if you could be with Angie at the rehearsal tomorrow night and at the wedding.”

“Be with her?” He repeated, confused.

“Yes. Well, you speak English fluently and I don’t want her to be left alone and uncomfortable.” Hyejin released a deep breath, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can’t think of anyone else. Truth is I was going to ask you about it tonight anyway.”

“It’s not a lot to ask…” He answered, scratching his chin. “I’m more concerned about the tabloids.”

“It’s my wedding, Joon. No freaking tabloids or media,” her voice was harsh and he immediately regretted mentioning it. He knew how sensitive she was on the subject. “Plus you don’t have to be with her only, stay with the guys too. Just don’t leave her alone.”

He nodded with a small smile, “I can do that, don’t worry.”

She smiled happily with one less worry. “Consider it your wedding gift,” she playfully said, waving at him to follow her into the kitchen. They did need to get drinks.

Namjoon laughed, “No way, we already arranged something else.” His cute dimples were showing and she felt reassured. “Just don’t stress about it.”

She started getting the bottles and cans out of the fridge and putting them on the counter when she suddenly remembered. “Also… I’ll just say it to be sure. Don’t leave her alone with my brother. He has always had a thing for her and I’m afraid of how it could escalate.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows jumped up and a couple of thoughts ran through his mind. A look at Hyejin told him she could read him like an open book, and before he could apologize, Hyejin smacked him.

“Just because she has a big libido, it does not mean she’ll sleep with anyone,” she pointed out with frustration. “My brother included. He’s just a playboy and he’s married. Do not let him get near her, do you understand? He’ll harass her and I don’t want fights at my wedding.”

Namjoon, feeling deeply regretful again for his callous thoughts, just nodded and promised to be good company for Angie over the weekend.

He just didn’t know how to do it. He had never met her, not even seen her. He hoped he would get a glimpse of her before leaving, but throughout the night it was just them and Hyejin.

He kept playing the words she said in his mind, and he wondered what kind of person she was. She was definitely the type to be good friends with Hyejin, otherwise, she wouldn't be staying at her house or have her request that favor of him.

His mind was already contemplating how he should approach her: should he apologize, should he give her some advice, should he be her wingman, should he just play it cool? He kept wondering about all those things and by the time he entered the rehearsal dining hall with the rest of BTS the next night, he hadn’t made up his mind.

Hyejin was at the entrance with her fiancé, whom BTS knew well, and they greeted each other.

"So about that track—"

"No work talk at my party please," Hyejin interrupted quickly, making her fiancé smirk and step back from Yoongi.

"Yes, dear."

Namjoon got close to her and hugged her, "You look so beautiful."

She hugged him back closely, and he knew she was nervous and overwhelmed.

"You'll do what I asked you?" She asked with a hint of anxiety in her smile.

"Of course," he assured her with warmth, rubbing her arms once soothingly.

She nodded, "Thank you. She'll be here soon. Just be yourself."

He chuckled and scratched his neck, "About that…"

But he didn't get the chance to ask, as other people arriving pushed them in after a rushed photo with the bride and groom.

From then on it was a mess for a while. Lots of people he knew approached him and the others for a chat, and he couldn’t say no but he wasn't there to talk about work or pamper them. It was a celebration and he had made a promise, he couldn’t disappoint Hyejin and stress her even more.

The guys ended up splitting between the dancefloor, the bar, and their dining table. He ended up grabbing his whiskey and going to his spot on the table by himself. He sat down and sighed; parties were not his thing, and he got tired quickly.

He placed his glass down and then noticed the names on the cards next to him: on one side, Jin, on the other Angie Wagner. He blinked and leaned closer to see it. She'd sit next to him?

"So," a female voice he recognized sounded from behind him and made him turn. "On a scale of one to ten, how much did you understand the conversation last night?"

She pulled the chair to sit down next to him and he just stared. She was sitting in Angie’s spot, and he recognized her voice, so… Angie?

She was wearing a light lilac string dress that fell all the way to the floor. Her sandy blonde hair was braided in a hairdo, letting a few strands fall around her face and neck. Her eyes were brown and shiny, they looked incredibly astute and he suddenly had the feeling he would not be able to hide anything from her.

She raised her thin eyebrows quizzically and he stammered, “I— Well—” For a second he considered pretending he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he gave up on it. “I believe most of it.”

She nodded, “Meaning all of it.”

He pressed his lips and looked down in clear regret, “How did you know?”

“Hyejin can’t lie to save her life. It was obvious she was looking at someone, despite her attempts to deny it.” Angie sighed, looking around at the card names on the table. “And I heard you speaking in English before.”

She waved back at the bar, and he nodded while pressing his lips in nervousness. He guessed she could connect the dots.

“So are you thinking I’m just a promiscuous Western woman or can I still save some face?”

His cheeks were becoming pink, but he chuckled, “I don’t think being Western has anything to do with it. You’re just freer to talk about it in Western countries, which I find a healthy thing." He looked at her, who was just attentively listening to him. Hyejin told him to be himself so he'd risk it. It was only fair after having learned such intimate secrets. “You’d find equally promiscuous women here, they probably just hide it more.”

She pursed her lips, intrigued by his words, but they were interrupted by a waiter with champagne flutes. She took one with a small head bow.

“Besides, if I understood correctly, you’re not that promiscuous.” He pressed his lips, was he really going to talk about this? “Something about having standards…”

She laughed and his dimples appeared. He was flustered and hot, but it was pleasing to speak with someone so earnestly.

“So you did understand everything!” She didn't look mad, she was grinning and sounded playful. “Can you tell that to Hyejin, though? I have a feeling she wants to ‘help me’ somehow when she doesn’t seem to understand the situation.”

His eyebrows puckered, “How does she plan on helping?”

“Something about a guy babysitting me tonight,” she shrugged. “I’m sure she means well, but it’s not how these things work. Although I must admit I’d be bored out of my mind if you weren’t here.”

“How so?” He laughed to take away from his embarrassment, realizing immediately he was the 'babysitter'. He didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Well, I wanted to make sure you’d keep that conversation private and now I’m pleasantly surprised that not only are you fluent in English, but you can actually have a conversation. I don’t see a way to be bored now.” He nodded with his warm cheeks marked by his dimples. “And with a bit of luck, I can escape the so-called babysitter. I'm not sure I trust Hyejin's taste in men to meet my standards.”

He tried laughing but it came out dry. Did he understand it right? Hyejin had implied to Angie that they'd… and she didn't trust Hyejin to choose someone, but it was him so—

“Do you want some tiramisu?” She interrupted his thoughts after downing her champagne. He looked at her, confused, and she pointed at the walking dinner on the tables at the other end of the room. “I’m starving.”

He nodded and went with her, grabbing not only tiramisu but also other small bites. He made a judgment call then to keep his mouth shut about being the person Hyejin had chosen to 'babysit' her. That way Angie wouldn't feel imposed on and they could keep chatting amicably.

They went back to the table with their food and continued chatting. Some of the BTS members noticed this.

“Wow, Joon made a friend,” Taehyung pointed out from the dancefloor in surprise.

Jimin turned and gasped dramatically, “Really?! Let’s go meet her—”

Hoseok stopped them both by getting in their way. “Oh no, you don’t. Let him be.”

“But he made a friend, I want to know her too,” Taehyung pouted playfully.

“Guys, he’s talking to a girl,” Hoseok repeated, playing with his eyebrows.

“He talks with girls all the time,” Taehyung pointed out, confused.

“Ohhhh, I see what you mean,” Jimin smirked with a nod.

“What?”

“It’s a wedding weekend, people do crazy things,” Hoseok smiled intently at Taehyung.

“So? Are you implying that our Joonie will sleep with that girl?”

“Joonie will sleep with a girl?!” Jungkook’s shocked gasp came from behind Taehyung and Jimin quickly hushed him.

“Shh, we don’t know that,” he told him, making Jungkook truly puzzled. Why was Jimin shushing him, the music was so loud!

“But he’s so shy, there’s no way—”

“Let’s give him the opportunity,” Hoseok interrupted Taehyung.

“It won’t hurt,” Jimin pointed out.

Jungkook pouted his lips, “It will if she hurts him.”

The other three men shook their heads with a smile. “He’s old enough, let him decide that for himself,” Hoseok pointed out, and the other three agreed.

Namjoon was truly intrigued to be talking with Angie about women's emancipation and the feminine movement. It was a topic he had sought to educate himself about but that he rarely got to talk about. He was interested in learning the perspective of a woman, or should he say a Western woman.

“The thing is that it’s not because I believe in equality that I don’t like things like chivalry or an actual man,” she pointed out with a short deep breath that contained her frustration. “In what dating is concerned, I would like a partner that doesn’t fall into extremes and I feel that’s happening more and more.”

“What kind of extremes?”

“Like the woman is always right and can do no wrong, or women are bitches that don’t accept men for who they are. I’ve seen both, I hate both,” she pointed out cleanly, then shrugged.

“That really happens?” He asked, surprised while they ate.

“Oh yeah. You try to date for a few months and it just becomes insufferable,” she chuckled, but he could see there was an inch of bitterness. “I truly just want a partner, an equal partner. I believe this to be a good standard, but then none of my friends understand why it’s so hard.”

He nodded, he sort of understood her. He didn’t hope to find someone who could stand by his side easily, and he wasn’t eager to put anyone through that, but if he could choose, he’d prefer to have someone by his side, not beneath or above.

“Like my friends say I expect too much, that I should just date a genius from work.” Her tone was despairing yet scornful. “And it’s precisely why I’ll never ever date any of them. I mean, I know I’m smarter than most, but I don’t want a genius by my side. I don't consider myself a genius, despite popular belief.”

He was looking at her with wide and intrigued eyes. He opened his mouth, then backtracked — there was so much information to unpack there he wasn’t sure about what to ask first.

“Look and behold, Mr. Namjoon,” she opened her arms with a cocky smile as if presenting herself. “You’re talking with the youngest professor of Quantum Physics at MIT.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more, “Really? Wow!”

She chuckled, closing her arms again and finally reaching for the tiramisu. “I know, I get that a lot. I'm surrounded by people who are pure geniuses in every sense of the word but lack everything else required for socialization. And me being a woman in the middle of men should sound fun, but it really isn’t.” She sighed, with a spoon of dessert in her mouth. She didn’t look very happy. “Everyone thinks I'm at a buffet, when in reality I wish I could go to a Michelin-star restaurant and have that one gourmet meal.”

She was expecting him to laugh at her analogy, but he nodded with a small smile that overflowed with sympathy.

“I get you… I sometimes feel like the Michelin-star meal, only I’m behind a glass and I can’t interact with anyone.”

She raised an eyebrow, “You consider yourself a Michelin-star meal?”

Her tone was playful but he choked on his spit, blushing a strong shade of red. “That’s a way of speaking,” he tried saying through coughs.

She giggled and tapped his back soothingly, “I’m messing with you.” She waited for him to calm down before taking a deep breath, “That must suck balls.”

He laughed, a bit more relaxed. “It does, and it doesn’t. I know I inspire a lot of people, as they inspire me. That’s why I… you know, Michelin meal—” She was looking at him with a mocking smile, so he coughed to clear his throat. “Anyway. It’s lonely.”

“What do you do?” She asked, cleaning her tiramisu cup with her spoon.

His eyebrows twitched for a second. She didn’t know? She was friends with Hyejin and she didn’t know? Should he not tell her? But she surely knew who he was to Hyejin, so should he tell her?

He licked his lips. Be yourself.

“I’m a music producer.”

She whistled, “Like Hyejin’s fiancé, then?” He nodded. “Right, you must work with her father. I keep forgetting that she comes from a music background.” She laughed to herself. “But anyway, lonely? How can that be?” Her pitch was high again and playful. “I imagine you have at least one girl every day trying to make a move on you to fall in your good graces and get that record deal.”

He laughed awkwardly, “I don’t and I would hate it if I did.”

“Because you’re not into women?”

“Because I’m shy,” he answered quickly and seriously, looking into her eyes.

Her features slowly lost their teasing glim and sobered. “I wonder about that… you’re talking pretty okay with me.”

He nodded, “There are… reasons for that.”

“Such as?”

“You’re Hyejin’s friend and you don’t want a music deal.”

She laughed giddily, “How do you know? Maybe this is just us scheming or something.”

He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, “She could get you something just as easily as I could.”

Angie hummed playfully and leaned into him, and he didn’t move away. “But maybe I'd prefer to be associated with the genius Kim Namjoon?”

He held her eyes with a raised eyebrow. He felt hot and proud at her words, which was unusual for him. Normally, he’d be the first to say he wasn’t that big of a deal, he wasn’t that great. He was truly nobody. As the seconds ticked, this truth came to light in his mind. He had to be truthful with her.

“I’m really not that great.” She tilted her head with a smile of who wonders about that. “I’m just a poet,” he added. He tried ignoring the burn on his cheeks, why was that happening? Maybe even that was untrue? “I… I just appreciate art. In all its forms. And try to do something with my thoughts. That’s it.”

He quickly reached for a sip of his whiskey, and then took a deep breath. He felt like he was stammering or vomiting his thoughts without reflection, what the hell was he doing? Why was he oscillating between being relaxed and so freaking nervous?

She smiled warmly, “I’m just teasing you.” She straightened herself and he felt weirdly upset at being able to breathe freely again. “So art. What’s your favorite kind of art? Excluding poetry and music?”

“It’s very difficult to choose,” he confessed. He looked at the table for a moment of absolute focus before answering. “I feel like right after hearing, my eyes are the next sense I rely on. So I’m inclined to say anything visual. Anything that invokes things in me that reflect deep thoughts.”

“Interesting,” she said, creasing her forehead a bit. “Would you say it helps with your music?”

“It definitely does,” he agreed instantaneously. “It has helped me a lot to see my struggles reflected and shaped by the hands of so many artists. To see it given color or texture through other means than sounds, or words.” He smiled, “I could never do it, but I recognize it because our struggle is the same, it’s human. It’s very freeing in a way.”

Angie smiled softly. She was now totally focused on the man in front of her, sitting turned to him and supporting her head on her hand.

“I wish I knew more about art,” she confessed. His eyes locked with hers for a moment before he looked away with a smile. He was shy, she could see that. But he was also very intriguing, definitely the best kind of surprise that night or trip could offer her. She wondered if he understood what she meant to imply with her words.

“It’s an infinite subject. Even I am still learning about it after years of interest,” his smile was kind. He licked his lips and looked at her again, “I could show you a few things.”

Her lips curved immediately, “I’d like that.”

And he pressed his, looking away again. “I went to Europe once to do a tour around many museums.” He turned to her with a smile, “I was in Switzerland for a few days and visited so many exhibitions, then Paris too. I can show you pictures if you’d like.”

She smiled, “That sounds nice. I would have loved to see it myself.”

He sighed, “Yeah. I couldn’t see everything I wanted, I didn’t have the time. I wish I could just go and spend a month or two there, really take in the places. The cultures, they’re so close to each other, but they’re so different. I hiked Mount Rigi last time, but there’s still so much to see in the Swiss Alps, and also in other countries.”

He was so invested in sharing his thoughts his eyes were shining. They were close now and he didn’t mind, quite the opposite. He was normally quiet with his entourage about such things, but with her, he felt accepted. She wasn’t scorning or being derisive, she was drinking his words out of interest for new things.

“You should go and do it. Take time off, pause, and do what you truly want to do.” Her tone was serious. “Life is short. Everyone always told me I’d have to fight tooth and nail to get somewhere, and that I’d get there in my old age. Well, I’m nearly thirty and I feel like I’ve reached that place already. And it sucks,” she shrugged in sorrow, reaching for her drink. “It should feel fulfilling, but it’s empty. I look behind me and see what I’ve missed, what I sacrificed. I realize I’ve won the race, but there’s really nothing to celebrate. And for as much as I may have gained, I became fearful of heights. Because now that everyone knows my potential, everyone would be disappointed if I didn’t meet the quota for just one day. And then… the real loneliness would start.”

A hint of sorrow passed through her features quickly before she downed another champagne flute, and he just nodded solemnly.

“There must be something to celebrate. Though… the responsibilities… they follow us,” he said quietly. “Even if I wanted to pause and go, it’s just not possible.”

“I’m telling you it has to be, Namjoon.” Her eyes were shining, but she didn’t hide them away. “There has to be more to life than grinding, burning out, and chasing the idea of success.” She put her glass down, “I keep convincing myself that this is what I wanted, that it was an opportunity all along, that I’m doing something great with myself, but am I?” She seemed to contain her tears of frustration. “I mean sure, there is an importance to what I’m doing. to what we’re doing. I’m teaching and shaping young minds, and I’m involved in projects that will advance our technology and understanding of the universe significantly. You’re doing music people love and inspiring them, like you said. Surely, all of it has meaning. But then why do I feel spent?”

She looked away with an anxious breath and her eyes fell on Hyejin laughing at the entrance of the party. That was what happiness looked like.

Her eyes turned back at him and his serious expression. She chuckled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with my existential conundrums.”

“Not at all, I feel like… we’re different, but similar in many ways.”

She looked at him and they stayed in silence for a moment. The party and music were developing all around them while they found some sort of empathy in each other’s existence.

“Maybe,” she acceded, with softening eyes. Her lips curved gently, “It’s not every day I get to talk about this.”

He was going to ask why but he never did.

“Ahh!” A yell sounded from behind them that had them both turn. The beautiful and glowing Hyejin placed her hands on their shoulders with a smile that could rival the sun. “I’m so happy you found each other!” Namjoon smiled politely, but Angie was furrowing her brow quizzically. Hyejin squeezed her shoulder, “See, I told you you would like him.”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon opened his mouth, but Hyejin spoke first. “Well, I know you didn’t want a ‘babysitter’, but I chose the best as your company.”

Angie’s eyebrows jumped as her features changed just a little. She smiled with a hint of bitterness, “Indeed.”

Angie cursed herself mentally as she tried not to give her thoughts away. She should have figured the ‘babysitter’ would be the same guy who eavesdropped, though she had thought more than one of her friends would speak English fluently, hence they could have been different people. Honestly, she just wanted to make sure he’d stay quiet about what he heard, but maybe the fact that he was cute and interesting clouded her judgment. Maybe she did have unattainable standards, she didn’t seem to be that bright herself if she was going to let something so simple happen right under her nose.

Her eyes shifted from Hyejin when she was called away to Namjoon, who was looking worried. That was guilt, wasn’t it? He knew about it, he just played dumb. He could have told her he was the guy Hyejin wanted her to meet, but he decided not to probably because he wasn’t interested and didn’t want to embarrass her. Well. She still was.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Hyejin smiled, seeing she couldn’t avoid whatever problem was calling for her.

As soon as she left, Angie dragged her chair back as Namjoon spoke. “I can explain.”

“A bit too late for that,” her voice was stoic as she got up. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She turned to leave without a second thought. That was freaking embarrassing, and utterly disappointing. Maybe she got too tipsy and confident? Maybe. Either way, she never had to speak with him again, so—

“Wait.”

She glanced at him, surprised he had followed her out of the party to the elevator lobby of the hotel, but she didn’t stop. She pressed the button to call the elevator.

And he stopped next to her, “Wait.” He swallowed, and she finally glanced at him. She was showing no emotions on her face and it twisted his stomach even more. “I didn’t know what to say. The way you spoke of it made me feel like it was something bad.”

“Bad?” She knew she wasn’t tipsy, she just had to respond to such a silly idea. “I told you I would never be bored with you, how is that bad?”

“It isn’t.”

“Then why not tell me?”

“I didn’t want to pressure you. That’s why I chose to be the other guy. I wanted to be the guy you chose to come and find and chat with, not the one Hyejin asked to babysit you and that you didn’t want to meet.”

She stepped inside the elevator, pressed floor seven, and then looked at him. She looked confused and hurt and he just stood there waiting for her to say something.

“I guess you’re neither now.”

The elevator doors started closing and he felt a rush. Time slowed, he had a decision to make. He never got to be with someone who understood him. He was always afraid of the backstabbing and image issues, everyone was watching, and it was too risky to do anything. Everything relating to dating had been relegated to the last spot on his priority list, the furthest corner of his mind and heart. But right there he could reach for something that resembled what he always wished he could experience.

So he stepped inside at the last second, squeezing through the doors. Her eyebrows jumped in surprise.

“But I could be both,” he finally said.

The elevator started moving and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. He tried not to feel disheartened. For the first time, she was looking incredibly cold and unapproachable, and it saddened him.

“Explain.”

Despite her detached tone, he felt alive. “I could be the guy you came to find and that stuck around you because you’re interesting and captivating.”

Her lips twitched in skepticism, “You don’t have to work that hard, Mr. Kim Namjoon. I know Hyejin told you to look after me, but I’m going to my room where I’ll be perfectly safe by myself.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’m speaking the truth.”

“Are you? You haven’t exactly been the most truthful.”

He pressed his lips and looked down — that hit him. Hyejin had told him to be himself and lying was not something he ever did. Being dishonest was not like him, and it felt off.

Angie exited the elevator without another word and Namjoon followed her all the way until she reached for a card to unlock her room door.

“Then let me,” he asked. She entered her room. “Let me be truthful.”

She stopped and turned to him. She was holding the doorknob in her hand and the doorway was the line separating them. She considered his words for a moment, then nodded. It couldn’t hurt to hear him out, she already felt humiliated as it was.

“I’m not just a producer,” he said, and she frowned very lightly. He was sure then she truly didn’t know who he was. “I’m an idol. Do you know what that is?”

“People that sing and dance and are idolized by teenagers?” She seemed confused.

He grimaced, “You get the gist.” He sighed, “We are very well known, so our lives are scrutinized and it gets lonely.”

She shifted the weight on her legs, “So that’s why you’re here? Because you’re lonely?”

He let out a tense breath. “I’m here because you are enticing. Your words, your mind. You’re so captivating I could just talk to you all night to learn your ideas about everything the world has to offer.”

“You want to chat?”

He opened his mouth, unsure about what to say. She removed her high heels and threw them inside, then heaved a deep breath.

“I don’t know what to think of you right now.” She admitted, then shrugged. “I figured you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to give me the impression you were interested in that way, and that’s fine. But then why follow me here?” He became flustered, and she just shook her head. “You’re worried about me complaining to Hyejin? I won’t. Are you feeling guilty? You’re forgiven. Let’s just forget about all of this—”

“That’s not it,” he managed to get out.

“Then what is it?”

He opened his mouth and fought his words multiple times until he just let go. “I don’t want it to end.”

“What?”

“Our talk. Our interaction. You said you didn’t get to talk about these things, well, I don’t either. And it’s so much more interesting because you’re not a musician or an artist, and yet we feel things in the same way,” he closed his fist as if he could grab the moment, then threw it down. Was he conveying the message properly? “What I mean is that there’s a potential for a unique connection, for a unique moment. I want to seize it, just like I want to go to Europe and hike the Swiss Alps. Like you said I should. Just pause and do what I really want to do.”

She observed him in silence for a moment as she went over what he said.

“But why didn’t you tell me before? You could have just said it.”

His cheeks warmed up, “You seemed to imply that Hyejin chose someone to… to sleep with you. I didn’t want to scare you away, so I thought it would be best not to mention it.”

Her eyebrows puckered in confusion, “But whatever reason Hyejin uses to choose you has nothing to do with you, you could have still just said it.”

He smiled and rubbed his face, he was embarrassed but sort of happy. “You’re right, I should have.”

She wasn’t smiling. “All of this just because you don’t want to sleep with someone; just say it next time and avoid the trouble.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” she groaned mutely. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”

“No, that’s not it.”

She raised an impatient eyebrow, “I got it wrong again?”

“Yes,” he said confidently, which intrigued her.

“Explain it to me then.”

“I never said I didn’t want to sleep with you.” He didn’t know where he got the courage to say those words, but maybe it was because he didn’t want any more misunderstandings. Her eyebrows jumped. “I said I didn’t want to pressure you, I said I didn’t want our talk to end, I said I followed you because you’re enticing. I said I didn’t want to scare you away. I didn’t want you to think anything we were doing was coming from a place of 'she's just promiscuous and we'll sleep together anyway'.”

Her lips twitched as she tried to deduce something. “Then…”

“I wanted it to just be genuine,” he shrugged. “If you were interested and I was interested, then cool.”

“Are you interested?”

He smiled despite looking at the floor, “I followed you all the way here, didn’t I?”

She blinked as her features morphed into surprise and realization. “You did.”

He gave her a moment before asking, “Are you? Interested?”

She finished her line of thought in which she decided she no longer had reasons to feel embarrassed. His lie had come from a good place, and although she disliked feeling deceived, she was willing to forgive him.

“I am.”

They stared at each other with a lighter atmosphere. He felt warm and sort of happy, but he didn't want to push anything. He was happy they sorted things out. It didn’t feel awkward or anything, he just didn’t feel any need to rush it.

“That’s… that’s good,” he smiled. “Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not coming in?” She asked almost in surprise. He was confused and she turned around to enter the room. “Only if you want to, of course.”

She dropped her handbag on a chair and turned to see him still in the same place. He had his hands on the doorframe as if stopping himself, and she just raised her eyebrows. He looked down, but dropped his hands and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him.

She smiled, “I’d offer you a drink,” she opened the mini-fridge. “But I don’t want us to get drunk.”

He was smiling too, he felt lightheaded. “That’s okay.”

“How about a coke?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, accepting it from her.

She also opened a can and sat on the bed with her legs bent by her knees.

"Didn't you have something to show me?" She asked, then took a sip. He just stared at her. "Photos of your trip?"

"Right!"

He pulled his phone out of his slack pocket and sat next to her. She leaned in to check his phone, but her eyes quickly moved to what risked captivating her more than any work of art he could show her. That tight dark blue suit made his shoulders look broad and firm. He was taller than her, even in heels, and he looked pristine and lean under all that haute couture. She could of course appreciate a man that could talk well and look good, but to find a devoted artist and poet under all that was… like straight out of movies or novels.

She nodded and listened to his explanations about the art pieces and exhibitions attentively. He was light and free when speaking of such things, and she could not see an idol or famous person. He was too real, too grounded, too connected with his inner self to appear shallow and superficial. She didn’t have enough of that in her life, she was always with people who were analytical, cynical, and skeptical, much like she was. That fresh outlook on life, on a human’s soul, on feeling was so touching she wanted to interact with him just to know what it was like.

He was explaining this painting of a fallen angel and the catharsis and redemption themes in it when she got up from bed to put their empty cans away.

“What do they say? To be able to fly you have to learn how to fall?”

He eyed her from head to toe, with her back turned to him, and nodded quietly. He never thought a physics genius could be so empathetic and understanding. She had a caring soul that transpired in every single comment, even when she was rational about the themes he was trying to explain. He felt like she could be an anchor, a defined line around his countless smudges of color. He should feel contained, maybe underestimated, but instead, he felt elevated. He felt like they were mutually showing the other how they perceived life, and it was incredibly unique. He knew that could happen after a few minutes with her, but now after maybe more than one hour, he was completely certain.

“It’s getting late,” she commented and he nodded, putting his phone down.

“You’re right, we need to get some sleep for the actual wedding tomorrow,” he got up with a gentle smile.

“Would you help me with my hair?” She asked, then turned around. “They put so many pins in, could you take them off?”

“Sure,” he immediately acquiesced, throwing his phone on the bed and nearing her. But then he pressed his lips, eying the braided hairdo. “I’m afraid I might hurt you.”

“You won't, don’t worry about it. You should be able to see them pretty well.”

He was still eying her hair nervously, but it was true he could see the black hairpins among her blonde threads. So he risked it and reached for the first one very slowly. He gained more confidence as time passed and they had a few giggles when a few proved too stubborn to come out on the first try.

Then suddenly her braid fell over her back and his smile dropped. He was incredibly close to her, he could smell her orchid perfume perfectly. Her skin looked smooth and delicate, the line of her neck was a feminine invitation. Her hair was beautiful and soft and now he didn’t have an excuse to touch it anymore.

She pulled her braid over her shoulder to open it and pass her fingers through it quickly. She glanced over her shoulder at him, “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Their voices were both low and warm as they eyed each other. She was wondering what she could do to give him a hint, whereas he was fighting his urges. He shouldn’t go too fast and she hadn’t expressed clear consent, so—

She suddenly grimaced and pressed her neck, and he spoke without thinking, “Are you tense?”

She nodded but immediately closed her eyes, her senses overcharged. His fingers were pressing and gently massaging her tired muscles, first on her neck, then her shoulders and spine. Her lips parted in absolute satisfaction at his dexterous hands, could he get any better?

Eventually, his fingers slowed in rhythm and stopped and she turned her head to the side, “Don’t stop.”

Her tone was low and pleading and he looked at her profile with his hands still on her delicate shoulders. She was truly beautiful, like a nymph out of a painting from the masters. He was inevitably attracted by her elegant curves, her dainty lines echoing everything in him from desire to devotion. He felt like any of those foolish men who would wish to lose themselves in the purity and nurturing embrace of such an ethereal creature, and he had to take a deep breath to catch himself.

She turned around and their foreheads connected as he swallowed. He was heartily eager to have her despite knowing that he could lose himself and disappear, just like Hylas once had in that ancient myth.

She touched his jaw gently and leaned in slowly, and he let her. Their lips touched and brushed briefly, and his breath hitched. He was immediately curious and chased her lips so he could feel her better. Her kiss was just as delicate as her and he was filled with this want to discover more, to know more, to partake, to dive in.

His hands were supporting her neck and jaw when she pulled away just enough to speak. “Are you comfortable continuing this?”

He almost chuckled; he was sensible enough to just smile, “Yes.” His tone was sure. “Are you?”

Her hands moved over his shoulders, “Oh yes. Yes.”

She leaned to capture his lips again and he smiled through their kiss, so incredibly happy that he would have the opportunity to touch her, to kiss her.

He of course wanted more than that and as their kiss built up, he started losing his grip. Their kisses were sloppy as their tongues played, his body was spiking with heat at her hands exploring his chest and pulling his blazer off to firmly squeeze his shoulders. His hands which had been respectfully on her waist became curious and decided to palm her curves. Those sensual curves that the dress failed to express vividly enough, thankfully.

She reached for his belt and he swallowed, trying to catch his breath as she kissed his cheek. That was happening, he thought. He looked at her, whose brown eyes were shining with desire while she breathed heavily. He had one second to decide before—

Her hand entered his pants and he closed his eyes, feeling her explore his erection. She was observing his reaction; she found the right angle and pulled his hard-on out. He was utterly absorbed in the sensation of her gripping him firmly and she wondered for a split second if it was genuine. He looked like a thirsty man who had just found an oasis, and she would think this odd if he was a famous idol that millions of people desired.

His hands pushed her to sit on the bed gently. He kneeled on the bed by her side and she eyed him. That man was the reincarnation of Adonis, there was no doubt in her mind about it.

“Can I touch you?”

Her features softened, “You have to touch me.”

His hands grabbed her lilac dress that covered her legs and pulled it up anxiously. She helped him do it all the way to her waist before she leaned back with him half over her. He reached her lips as his hands traced her legs, and the higher he went the more she started losing grip. Still, before he could touch her, she reached for his erection again to pump him gently. He grunted quietly and she smiled slyly, incredibly proud that she could make him sound like that.

Quickly a sigh was escaping her lips when his fingers reached her center over her panties. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be able to get that and more out of her.

“You’re so warm,” he whispered against her lips, descending then to her neck.

Her hand on his erection was making it hard to process, but his fingers quickly pulled her panties aside to feel her and damn. She was so wet and ready that his cock twitched. She moaned quietly with his touch exploring her folds and core, and he felt it in her neck as he kissed it. She would surely make the most beautiful music for him if he played her correctly, and he intended to.

His fingers reached her clit to rub it gently and she gasped, completely frozen by it. He pulled away enough to observe her expression with agape lips, squinted eyes, and knitted eyebrows.

“Like that?” He asked, his voice tense.

She looked up at him, an expression of pleasure so sensual he had a hard time thinking.

“Yeah,” she sighed and restarted moving her hand.

His fingers were too fucking good, or maybe she was just that turned on. Her core was clenching around nothing despite the simple gesture of his digits, but she knew it was more than that. He was an attractive and attentive man observing her through desirous but respectful eyes. Like she was worthy of his praise, attention, and care, and that adoration was really spiking it up for her.

So she tried making it last by focusing on her hand on his erection. It had been a while since she had last done that, but what mattered was reading his cues. He preferred a firm grip instead of light, he preferred the tip instead of broad all-encompassing movements, and he preferred slower and intense movements rather than fast and light. Soon he grunted and she smiled yet again.

“That feels very good,” he managed to get out with closed eyes.

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

They had reached a balance and they could see it in each other’s eyes. So when her lips curved in a playful smile, so did his.

Then he grunted mutely at the view of his hand between her legs. He was imagining what she would feel like, but there was nothing better than finding out. His fingers slipped in and she moaned.

“You’re so tight and warm,” his voice strained at the thought of replacing his fingers with his twitching cock.

She was pulsating around his fingers, “Imagine how comfortable you’d be… inside me.”

He looked at her, and she was already eying him back. Her expression tensed when he reached his thumb over her clit, her jaw clenched. She couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed, every single touch of his felt better than the one before and she would melt for him every time he would like her too.

Suddenly he looked down at her hand on his dick with thin lips. “Do we have condoms?”

She tried thinking rationally for a second, then cursed under her breath. “I don’t.”

She felt irritation spring from deep inside her chest, that was very stupid of her. She couldn’t have known she would meet someone interesting and get involved with him, but fuck should she be better prepared just in case she did.

She took a deep breath, “Don’t worry about it right now, we can have fun in other ways.” She smiled playfully to ease him, but quickly his fingers reached somewhere deep inside her that stole her breath. “Is that okay?”

“That’s okay…”

He was sad he wouldn’t be able to feel her all the way as he intended, but that was for the best. He was already out of his mind, excited that all of that was happening anyway.

He hardened his movements and leaned on her neck, “I want to know what you sound like.”

She tried repressing a moan, his rough movements on her were making it very challenging. “If you keep doing that you’ll find out soon enough.”

He smirked at her teasing and decided to go rougher, though not faster. He instantly knew he made the right choice because her hand on him became sloppy as if forgotten, and her legs started spreading as if to give him more space. He prioritized his thumb over her clit in wide rough circles and her waist started bucking. He pulled away to look at her and surely enough she was close to falling apart.

She looked at him through puckered eyebrows almost pleadingly and he licked his lips, wishing for nothing but the moment when it would happen. Suddenly she gasped and arched her back, then a roll of moans echoed from deep inside her throat. He fucked her with his fingers, completely absorbed by the sensual sounds her beautiful self was producing, and when she calmed down, he couldn’t contain his pride. He made her fall apart, he played her correctly and created that music through her. He felt honored and happy and extremely turned on, and she knew it because she immediately tightened her grip on his dick and hastened the movements.

“Did you like it? How I sound when I come?”

He opened his eyes which had closed momentarily to look at her pink cheeks and shiny eyes. She looked satisfied and hungry at the same time. His lips pulled — nymph was the right word for her.

“Definitely, yes,” he groaned quietly.

“I know you did,” she smiled and looked down. He was covered with precum, it was the perfect lube for her hand. “Have you wondered what I taste like?”

He blinked, his brain freezing for a second, and then he moved the hand covered in her slick still in her core. He could find out.

But she quickly stopped him, “No.” His hand stopped, though his mouth was open and waiting. “Not yet, you can find out after.”

“After?”

“After.”

Then she reached for his glistening hand and guided it to her mouth. She licked his wet fingers and sucked on them all while she kept pumping him.

He groaned. “Is it good?” He asked, completely beside himself.

She chuckled, “You’ll find out in a minute.”

“I will?”

She smiled teasingly, still playing with his fingers and her tongue. “If I’m lucky.”

He groaned through a smile; he wanted to lick her and find out. He wanted to discover everything tonight.

“Where do I come?”

She smiled, “Make my hands messy.”

He looked down at her hands on him, on his tip and base working on him perfectly, then at her body, her lean legs, female curves, the line of her chest in between her modest cleavage, and then at his hand on her chin, now fully cleaned as she looked at him with hunger. He felt a prickle of embarrassment, she was looking at him making faces, but she looked absolutely invested. He dared think she was really into him, that a beautiful nymph like her would look at him twice and be interested in his pleasure, and that pushed him over. The thought of being with her and her wanting to be with him was enough to make him grunt deeply and pop. He grabbed her hands around him so he could slide in them pleasurably as his warm cum collected there and dripped on the sheets.

When he finished, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He didn’t see her smile, nor was he bothered when she got up and went to wash her hands in the bathroom, he just sighed. That felt good, being there was good. He craved that satisfaction though he very rarely attained it. He sighed again.

She came back and laid on the bed again, prompting him to do the same. Their breaths were normal now, but whereas he was still processing, she was smiling playfully.

“Not having condoms sucks,” she puffed and he nodded. “But we can still have fun.”

He adjusted the pillow under him, wanting so much for that to be so when he suddenly gasped.

He got up and reached for his wallet in his blazer on the floor, and opened it. It took some effort, but very safely hidden was a wrapper that he waved victoriously.

She grinned, “Good job! That’s a nice party trick.”

He smiled in embarrassment, “I didn’t even remember about it, it’s been there since—” His voice died when he turned the wrapper around, and then he closed his eyes.

“What?” She asked, curious. She sat up and took it from him since he wasn’t reacting, and when she saw it, she fell on the bed and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t!”

He was blushing in embarrassment, “It’s really been there for years, I don’t even remember when I put it there…”

She was still laughing, “Clearly! I mean, how long do condoms stay good? Five years?”

He tried taking it from her by leaning on her, “Well, we don’t have to use it, forget I—”

She hid it between her hand and her chest and raised her eyebrows, “Are you joking? Using an expired one is better than nothing, we’re using it.” Her voice was so firm he stopped in his tracks. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“I want to,” he breathed immediately, eying her under him. He didn’t even realize he was shamelessly admitting to wanting her that badly, he was just enamored by the sight of her smiling teasingly.

“Then we have that to look forward to,” she smiled, putting it aside on the bed before raising her hands to feel his torso through his shirt. “How tired are you?”

“Not tired,” he murmured.

She grinned and her hands reached his back, “How fast do you recover?”

His cheeks warmed up wildly, “I… it depends…”

“Tonight. How much can I hope to have from you?”

Her hands on him mixed with her words were making him hot and unable to think. “I don’t know, it’s been a while since I… needed to perform like that.”

Her smile softened, “Let's find out together then. For now… I want to strip you.” His eyes roamed down her lilac dress for a second before trailing back up to find her tongue between her teeth. “Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

She sat up, forcing him to move out of the way. Every yes of his sounded like a sigh, almost like happiness or relief for her having taken the initiative. She had no problems with that, but she would love it if he would relax. Maybe he would as they got comfortable.

Being naked always meant a significant amount of vulnerability and they were both aware of that. They kissed slowly while comfortably sitting in bed as they helped each other take off each piece of clothing at their own rhythm. He took most of his off first, starting with his waistcoat, shirt, inner tee shirt, then his slacks but not without getting rid of his shoes and socks first. She giggled when he made his shoes flip in the air with how fast he tried taking them off, and he smiled at her. He laid back down in bed and traced her uncovered legs. She still had her dress on and he pecked her cheek almost reverently before asking, “Where’s the zipper?”

She smiled, he was so cute. “On the back.”

She got up from the bed and turned her back so he could take care of pulling the zipper all the way down. He traced her back skin softly as he guided the strips to fall from her shoulders, then contoured the bands of her bra.

“Can I take it off?”

“I was hoping you would.”

He unhooked the hook quickly and traced her skin again slowly, this time leaning in to nuzzle it softly as he pulled everything off. She felt goosebumps all over, a wave of warmth invading her as she forgot how to breathe. He was so delicate and reverent that she felt like the most precious person he ever touched, and she was into that. It turned her on like crazy to be treated adoringly and he was hitting all the right keys.

She turned to him so he could push her strapless bra off and fully lay her bare, and he didn’t disappoint. He gently pulled it off along with the dress that fell to the floor, and his eyes roamed her body hungrily. She was so beautiful and elegant that he was totally hypnotized.

He didn’t ask for permission and just dove for her chest, lowering himself to reach those wonderful perky nipples and take one in his mouth and another in his hand. He truly didn’t know how long his body would take to react or how he would perform, but he was happy that just seeing her naked immediately pumped him up. He sat on the bed and pulled her by the waist to continue the ministrations of his tongue, lips, and teeth on her chest while she moaned breathlessly and petted his hair. His hands lowered to the small of her back, then to her ass and he squeezed, feeling his hard dick throb inside his trunks. That was the finest offering he could ever have had and he wanted it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told her in between switching nipples in his mouth, with wet traces and suckling sounds. His hands squeezed her asscheeks again, making her moan. “So beautiful. I need to have you,” he admitted, tracing his hands to pull her panties down.

His lips descended to her stomach before his hands pulled her to support her knees on either side of him. Suddenly, though, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her so he could lay her in bed under him. She giggled when her hair splayed over the bed and she looked down at him.

“It looks like you’re ready again,” she pointed out.

He didn’t need to look at the tent in his trunks. “I am, but I want to taste you first.”

Her lips pulled in amusement as he leaned to trail down her body with kisses, focusing on her mound and inner thighs to her delight. She was trembling involuntarily when his lips brushed hers and she squirmed in both want and shyness. He licked her across her slit, taking in her flavor, then he chuckled, unsurprised.

“Of course, you’d be delicious too,” he muttered before getting down to business.

Angie moaned breathlessly and more and more as his tongue circled her clit. Her eyes were closed as she gripped the sheets, so completely focused on what he was doing. She cursed herself for having had one orgasm already because that would make it harder right now for him. He didn’t look like he wanted to give up, but she didn’t want to tire him.

“You’re so sexy,” he still encouraged her, which invariably kept on melting her. “Make that sound again,” he asked as he suckled on her clit.

She did the sound he wanted but gritted her teeth. She was needy. “I want you,” she asked, as soon as she could breathe.

He smiled with glistening lips as he used two fingers to feel her tightness. “That’s a good idea… I was hoping to make you come first, though…”

God, he was so freaking adorable she couldn’t handle it. “Give me a second.”

She reached to stop his hand and gently move him away, and he let her. She got up and reached for something in her bag — a black cloth bag. She grabbed it and then threw it on the bed.

“What’s this?” Namjoon reached to grab it and immediately figured it out. “Oh, I see.”

She hopped on the bed next to him. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she pleaded, suddenly worried. He looked let down despite his smile. “You’ll get me there, but since I already had an orgasm, you’ll probably lose the ability to move your jaw and you might need it tomorrow.” He chuckled at the way she put it and she felt confident in touching him again. “You were doing it wonderfully though,” she smiled, looking down. “And I’m more than happy to return the favor.”

He pressed his lips, “That’s— Only if you want to, you don’t have to.”

She smiled and reached for the vibrator, “You in my mouth will be the exact thing to make me come. So will you?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Would you… let me blow you while I pleasure myself?” He raised his eyebrows further in surprise. “I mean, you can of course control the toy if you want, I just mean… that would turn me on and push me to come.”

“I can use my fingers,” he seemed to think out loud.

She tilted her head, “You can if you think you can focus on two things at once.”

“Fair point,” he chuckled again. “Multitasking is not my thing.”

She bit her lip, “Actually, if you would be into it, you could fuck my mouth.” His mouth opened. “I mean, you know, only if you’re into that.”

“I’m into that, I…” he rubbed his face to clear out his surprise. “You just keep on surprising me.”

“In a bad way?” She asked, fearful.

“No, in a good way.” He reached for her hand, “We’re actually talking about what we want and expect before doing anything, which is great.”

She smiled, “I agree. It’s… very easy to talk to you, in fact.” She looked at their hands, then at the tent in his trunks. “And it doesn’t kill your mood, which is so refreshing,” she admitted. “I love it when I can communicate what I want and like without feeling like everything is ruined.”

He chuckled, “You almost got me… but you want to include me, so that’s okay.”

“What do you mean? Almost killed your mood?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged, “When the girl you’re with seems to prefer a toy to you, I mean…”

“Wow, are you crazy?” She jumped to her knees. “I’m freaking done with toys, so done,” her tone was laced with exasperation and he smirked. She was getting on his lap and he supported her waist to sit there. “I’m one hundred percent into you,” she underlined her words softly, lacing them with want.

Now straddling his lap, they were close and personal. She grabbed his erection through the cloth to position it so it would rub on her nicely as she moved her hips. She had to lean back and support herself on her other hand, making her a sinful view.

He was supporting her waist while eating her with his eyes and drinking her soft moans before she sat back up. He then dove on her chest again, ravishing the flesh in range of his mouth while she moved her waist to grind his cock so slowly and gently, but enough to help him draw those lustful moans out of her.

She gripped his hair, “Did you feel how wet I was?” He hummed while flicking his tongue on her nipple. “Then you know how much you turn me on.”

The more she moved her hips, the crazier she became with the thought of that hard cock inside her. His mouth on her chest was not making it easier.

“Fuck, I want to ride you.”

He hummed, “You want a lot of things.”

She giggled, “I do, it’s all your fault.” She bit her lip strongly and then decided to push him to lay back on the bed with her over him. “Take some responsibility, Namjoon.”

He smiled, “I will. Tell me what you want.”

She was lying completely on him and straddling his cock now felt even better. She moaned over his lips, “Stay like that and let me ride you until I come on your cock.”

He groped her hips to help her move, “That sounds doable.”

She grinned, then reached for the condom. “I hope you can resist because it’s up to you how much we can get done.”

He chuckled, “You’re giving me too much responsibility.”

“I know, I’ll try my best to make it easy for you,” she sassily said, getting off him. He removed his trunks so she could cover him with the condom. “Feel free to tell me if I feel so good you’ll burst,” she added with a sly smile, before moving onto his lap again.

“You’re very confident,” he teased, supporting her on top of him again.

She leaned on him and aimed his cock inside her, “Oh, I am.” She made it a point to take him in slowly and in stages all while nuzzling his nose and seeing his reactions. His lips were agape and eyes closed, and with every inch, his nails sank on her hips. “How long has it been since you felt a tight cunt around you?” He was trying not to groan and it rilled her up. “All dripping just waiting for you to force yourself in?” Her voice was taunting, but laced with lust. “When was the last time you had a woman like me riding your hard cock?”

He bottomed out and she could feel him twitching inside her, which had her taking deep breaths to stay calm. The fact that she was the person getting to fuck him egged her on. That sexy, interesting, and sensible guy was a treasure that she was more than willing to have.

“I can’t recall,” he admitted, panting. “But I certainly never had one with a mouth as sassy as yours.”

She giggled as he smiled. She nuzzled his nose, “I gave you a chance to fuck this sassy mouth.”

“It’s still in my plans,” he admitted, finally looking at her.

“Perfect. Now let me milk you right,” she whispered sensually before adjusting her angle to move.

He was so deep inside her that by controlling her hips reaching an orgasm would be a piece of cake. That dirty talk with him had totally turned her on and him stretching her where it counted was taking her there.

“You feel so good,” he let out, still gripping her hips as if ready to stop her at any moment.

“I know,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “How lucky are you that I’m riding you right now?”

“Very lucky,” he breathed.

“Very fucking lucky indeed,” she groaned, biting his cheek softly. “Will you give me your cum?”

“Oh yes.”

She cursed, grinding her clit in an angle that would get her there before she fell apart in moans over his mouth. He focused on feeling her around him, taking deep breaths to take in that sensation without letting it unfocus him. Then he hugged her body and kissed her when she searched for his lips. She was blushing and glowing and it filled him with pride to see her smile.

“See how into you I am?”

He chuckled and stayed calmly in place, letting her recover from her high.

“How much would you like to fuck me right now?” She was pecking his jaw and eying him with mischief.

“A lot,” he admitted, nodding his head in confirmation.

“I do deserve it after riding you so well, no?” She nibbled on his neck and he stretched while grabbing her asscheeks.

“Oh yes, absolutely.” He couldn’t stop smiling as if he had hit a jackpot.

She bit his earlobe before sitting up and getting off him. They both noticed how absolutely covered in slick he was, and then she got all fours.

“Show me how much I deserve it,” she asked sensually, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder. He sat up and touched her hanging boobs. “Hmm, show me how much you appreciate being able to fuck me.”

He leaned to kiss her as he groped her breasts, making her puff in between their kisses, then he moved to get behind her. He groped her asscheeks, spreading them for him, and licked his lips. She looked so fucking good, like a temptation, and he wanted to bury himself balls deep.

He aimed his cock at her core and slid in quickly, grunting with the sensation. She was so tight it caused an electric wave to go up and down his spine. He moved his hips a few times and shuddered, trying to collect himself.

“Are you ready to admit I was right?”

Her tone was mocking, but he only grunted, “I can admit that you deserve a nice pounding.”

She chuckled at the way his voice was tense and his nails sank on her hips. “If you want to spank me, you can.”

He leaned in and kissed her back with a smile on his lips, “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Aren’t you very lucky?” He smacked her ass, making a thin moan escape her throat. “Does it change anything?” He eyed her as he fucked her slowly. “Does it change the fact that you’re dying to fuck my tight cunt?” He smacked her again and she giggled right after a moan. “I’d love for you to mark me, don’t be afraid.”

“I don’t get you… You want to be worshiped, but you also want to be used?” He cleaned the sweat off his brow. He needed to understand to be able to decide on how to go about it.

“You might use me, but it had to be me.” She was biting her lips at the pleasure shooting from his pounding cock. “You might do whatever you want to me, but the point is that you want this pussy. Only I will make you feel this way. It will always be a form of worship.”

“You do feel very good…” he admitted, then slapped her ass again. “You take my cock very well.”

She moaned between words, “Your cock is so good… I’m fucking happy I didn’t miss out on this.”

He chuckled and leaned forward to grab her tits, fucking her so deep that her moans got to a higher pitch.

“Fuck, you’re deep.”

He groaned, “You're taking me so well…”

Too well, in fact, and he straightened back up and calmed his rhythm.

She giggled, “Too much?” He struck her asscheek so hard it echoed in the room, yet she giggled. “You’re so my type I can’t control it, I’m sorry.”

He passed his fingers over her asscheeks, “I’m your type, huh?”

She wiggled her ass as if she wanted him to move his fingers. “Cute, attentive, sexy, and smart.” He wasn’t sure where, so he moved his fingers away, but she whined. “No, touch me. You can use me, Namjoon. I talk big but I want you to fuck me so bad,” she whined, moving her hips against his for him to fuck her deeper.

He was tempted to, but first, he slid his fingers between her asscheeks, and she trembled. She incentivized him with her bucked movements until he rubbed her asshole, making her moan deeper.

“You like that?”

She moaned again and he decided to rub it at the same rhythm he fucked her. Her asshole started twitching, and when it did he felt it around his cock too. She was getting tighter and wetter and he was completely up to his limit.

“Am I milking you right?” She asked in a breathy voice.

“Yeah, I’m close. I’ll stop playing with you and fuck you now, okay?”

He didn’t see the way she paused and blinked her eyes, confused. “Wh—?”

He positioned himself better behind her and unleashed his energy. He didn’t care how or what he was doing, as long as his cock was ramming right into her every time and hitting deep. Her thin moans were uncontrollable and music to his ears. She wanted to milk him, she deserved a good fucking, and he was going to give it to her.

Her face landed on the pillow as she started losing grip and he angled deeper. She could not think with the fast pace he was entering her, and all the sloppy sounds and slaps were just the icing on top. She never got to shut her brain off, but just there that’s exactly what happened and it was bliss. Her hand darted to her clit, which was covered in her juices, and she moaned desperately for her release. She wasn't planning on it, but she was beyond being organized and structured; that kind of pleasure was not premeditated or controlled, it was imposed.

He leaned on her and was talking to her but she couldn’t really register.

“Yeah?” She finally caught him saying. “You want it? Come for me. Come on my cock with me.”

Her brain lit up like a firework popping and she moaned in a frenzy, cumming so hard he had to hold her hips in place or she would have fallen apart away from him. Her pleasure rippled and rippled until she was left a void drooling mess and it was… odd. Satisfyingly so.

He got off her and laid next to her, pulling her to fall to the sheets by his side gently. “Are you okay?” He asked with a hint of concern as he pulled her hair out of her face.

She was still panting with her mouth open, and she blinked. It took her a moment to react.

“What… What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“You— how did you—?” She opened and closed her eyes. “I’m so mind-blown right now.”

He grinned happily as they tangled their legs together. “In a good way, right?”

She was still shocked, “You— You’re good. My god, are you fucking good. That had never happened to me before.”

“What?”

“My brain shutting down like that,” she shrugged, hugging herself in bewilderment.

He scooted closer and hugged her, “It was good then.”

“It was awesome, it’s what it was.”

Her tone was so firm he just smiled, “I’m happy.”

She reached to trace his jaw with her hand. “You really are something.”

He tapped their foreheads and looked deeply into her eyes. “So are you.”

They were left sweating and calming down, but eventually, the lethargy became too much. As if on automatic pilot, she got up to pee and he took care of the condom and did the same. In minutes they both threw themselves in bed and snuggled together to sleep relaxedly.

Despite her sluggishness, Angie eventually woke up and looked around, confused. She thought it was the jetlag still messing with her after three days. She reached for her phone: 5h53. She sighed deeply and put her phone away, she could still sleep.

Then someone moved behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she closed her eyes. For a split second she thought she had dreamed of him, but that fresh, citrus, and woody scent reminded her that it was all real. She turned, still under his arm, and he leaned to unite their foreheads, still in his sleep. She looked at him with a small smile, feeling so relaxed. She didn’t know how he managed to make her like that but it was certainly something to be praised.

She closed her eyes, ready to fall back asleep, when his nose started nuzzling hers softly. She sighed and hugged him closer — she was awake, and they could do whatever he wanted. His lips fell on hers gently and she smiled at his delicateness and gentlemanly actions. They kissed slowly and softly for a while before she moved her hand to trail his torso. She was getting hotter and she felt like there was still so much of him she hadn't explored.

He seemed to get hot as well and reach for her to come closer, taking equal opportunity to touch her. She squeezed his shoulder in incentive for him to do as he pleased and couldn’t contain the moans as he did. He felt and groped her curves firmly, and when she evaded his mouth so she could breathe out a moan, he quickly caught her neck skin in between his teeth. She scratched his skin and grazed his scalp in approval and rolled with him immediately once he got on top of her.

His kisses were more demanding, but she was completely on the same wavelength. She wanted him to take her, to touch her, and handle her however he saw fit. He had earned that.

He trailed down her neck and quickly made his stop on her chest. His tongue and mouth were warm and wet and she squirmed with want, opening her legs instantly. He bit her once, twice and it only vexed her more; she was already so ready for his touch.

His fingers brushed her folds before searching for her wetness and she stopped breathing, completely focused on what was going to happen next. He was eying her attentively, feeling that shift on her chest. He removed his fingers, which made her raise an eyebrow, but his intentions immediately became clear. He gave her one last kiss before moving down so that his mouth could now reach her mound, and she trembled.

His lips brushed hers softly and increasingly with more pressure until his tongue opened her up and started licking her. She gasped for air with the way he seemed to want to lick her slit clean, knowing perfectly well that was the way to just make her even wetter. His hands grabbed her hips to stay in place when his mouth moved over her clit and he was not gentle. She writhed under him with whiny moans, she could feel his smile on her as he licked her clit deliciously.

She couldn’t stop squirming and trying to escape it while simultaneously being annoyed whenever he lost contact with her bud. She started moving her hips and her moans dragged.

“Use your lips,” she pleaded, and the sensation became less wet but firmer. “Yeah, like that.”

She was unaware of his eyes on her seeing her oscillate with her pleasure hungrily. He was trying to keep a steady pace for her, but she was making it hard.

Then she suddenly propped on her elbows, “Let me ride your mouth.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave her one last kiss. She seemed to realize what she had just said while he licked his lips and sat up.

She was blushing hard, “I mean if you’re okay with that.”

He was already lying down, pushing the pillow away. “I’m more than okay with that, come here.”

She took the hand he was offering and got on her knees. She then passed a leg over him so she would sit on his belly. She was trying her hardest not to just jump on his glistening mouth, out of respect, but he incentivized her by pushing the small of her back in his direction. That along with his hand still holding hers for support just pushed her to raise and sit where she wanted to with a deep sigh.

She cursed, “Tap me if you need me to stop, okay?”

His hands felt her hips firmly before he moved so his lips could disappear under her and she gasped. He felt too fucking good, she would come in a literal minute if he kept—

She sucked in a moany breath and started bucking her hips as gently as she could. He was a fucking sin with the way he managed to suckle on her clit every time it passed his mouth, just to escape it seconds later. And yet every time she did her circular hip movement, he was right there waiting, pressing her hips down so that the rub would be as intense as possible. She was too turned on, too far off, so when his nails sank into her skin to keep her close, she only needed a few seconds to fall apart.

He licked her and mouthed her roughly as she came, keeping her core as close to his mouth as possible. She had to whine because of the overstimulation, and only then did he let go. She stumbled back, completely alienated on how to control her own body, but he had her. He quickly reached to support her back so she wouldn’t just fall and instead helped her sit back on his lap graciously.

He sat up and brushed her hair away from her red hot face, “You make the most beautiful sounds.”

She opened her glistening eyes to him and chortled, “You make me do them.”

He grinned happily, “I do.”

She was still recovering from the hastened heartbeat in her chest, but she reached to kiss him nonetheless. His mouth tasted of her and it burned her. She bit his lip, clenching around nothing. She shouldn’t feel possessive, but she couldn’t help it.

“Remember my sassy mouth?”

He cupped her neck and kissed the corner of her mouth, “I do.”

“I don’t think I can articulate much yet, but how about doing what you planned?”

He chuckled at the hint of neediness in her voice. “You mean you blowing me while you pleasure yourself?”

“Or you fucking my mouth, whichever you prefer,” she sighed, nuzzling his nose.

He brushed his nose back on hers and hummed for a moment.

“We can start with you and see how you feel.”

She pecked his lips and immediately moved away. She grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor before kneeling on it, then she tapped the edge of the bed.

“Come here.”

He moved to sit there with his legs around her and she drew closer, leaning down to kiss his crotch and belly before nuzzling her way down to his balls.

He grabbed her hair out of the way without any pressure whatsoever and just stayed with his mouth agape looking at the way she was licking and nibbling his balls gently. She was soft and mindful of hurting him, but quick and sloppy as if she was hungry and it filled him with anticipation.

By the time she licked up his shaft, she was already drooling and she looked up to see him, to make sure he knew that. She wanted that, she wanted to taste him, to drive him wild into coming and giving everything he had.

She took his tip in and remembered well how he liked pressure there more than speed, and she got to it immediately. She sucked hard on his head while she bobbed her head in short movements, making her best to keep that pressure constant. The way he groaned and tightened his grip around her hair melted her and gave her even more energy. His girth was wide enough that her jaw would hurt for sure after the fact, but that would not be the thing to make her stop.

She added her tongue to the mix, flicking it and searching for the place that made him moan the hardest while she suckled on him.

She must have done something right because his taste hit her taste buds and she moaned. He tasted sweet and delicate and she guessed then that if she wanted the full taste she had to go for it. She was drooling with how much she wanted it and she didn’t realize how much she was pushing him until he groaned loudly and put one hand on her neck to gently guide her out.

She raised her head with a pop of her lips, keeping his hard dick pointing at her with her hands. Its glistening reddened tip was tempting her and she couldn’t look away.

“That was close,” he mumbled, and she finally looked up.

He was panting and he reached to wipe the thin coat of sweat off his brow. He looked down at her and she could only curve her lips in amusement.

“Why did you stop me? I was having a blast.”

She sounded playful and he chuckled, “Well, you never told me where to come. Plus,” he moved away from her to reach for something on the bedside table. “You wanted to pleasure yourself.”

She lowered her eyes to his open hand and saw her vibrator.

She grimaced in disbelief, “You stopped our fun for that?”

“I want you to feel good,” he smiled sheepishly.

Her eyebrows jumped, “How do you think I’ve been feeling so far?!”

He grinned with a hint of shyness, and pride, and she bit her lip down hard so she wouldn’t bite him.

“You said me in your mouth was the thing to make you come… and I don’t want to steal that opportunity from you.”

Her chin dropped in shock, then she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. We’re taking care of you right now and you’re still worried about me?” She reached suddenly for his lips and he supported her through their kiss with gentleness. “You can’t be real,” she whispered, nuzzling his nose before going back down on her knees. “You just can’t be.”

He didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t give him the time to think of something.

“You should come in my mouth,” she told him, grabbing the egg-shaped vibrator. “I need to know how you taste. You can get up and fuck me whenever you want, just please don’t do it too harshly because I gag easily.” She spread her legs a bit so she could accommodate the vibrator. “And if I start coming, do not stop. In fact, I might get sloppy, so take matters into your own hands.” She raised an eyebrow, “Did I forget something?”

“No, ma'am.”

He was smiling in a tease and she pursed her lips before looking down. His cock twitched under her gaze and she looked back up. He didn’t need to ask for attention, so she guessed it was involuntary, which made it even hotter.

She sighed as she took him inside her mouth again and she made sure to take him all the way in comfortably a few times to show him where he could go. He didn’t fit completely in, so despite his moans she hoped he had paid attention.

Only then did she turn on the vibrator and hummed instantly. She was not going to last, she was certain. She was immensely turned on, any nudge in the right direction was enough.

She bucked her hips on the toy and used that same rhythm in her mouth. It was harder to stay focused and she started moaning quickly out of the sheer pleasure shooting through her. He had such a good fucking cock that fit in her mouth perfectly and would spray her full soon. He couldn’t help himself, she would blow him just right until he would pop. He knew deep down that he had no choice. He wanted to come for her, to fill her up, he was helpless. If she wanted it, he had to give it to her, and if he tried holding back, she would blow him and ride him until he blew.

Thoughts like those drove her insane, and his dick in her mouth was exactly what brought to life all of her fantasies. In minutes her whines gained a pitch and he should know by now that meant she was right on the verge of her orgasm. Her hand on his base lost grip, and her lips became less taut, allowing for her drool to drip down his shaft, and he knew what to do.

He got up and she moved with him, allowing him to grab her head and gain complete reign over everything. She let him do it and in seconds her orgasm invaded her, making her moan deeply. And he grunted with those sounds because he could reach her throat that much easier, interrupting them with every thrust. It was so fucking hot that he had no problems in just leaping through it as soon as he could confidently say her orgasm was done.

Then she hummed as his cum started dripping on her mouth and her lips became taut again. She sucked him neatly and swallowed him dry as he did his best efforts to contain his hips jerking. He was still holding her hair and head, and her mouth felt so wet and tight he had to take a deep breath, mastering himself until the end.

He sighed as the pleasure dissipated gently, then let her head go. She pulled out and looked up at him with a sly smile.

“You… are fucking great.”

He broke down laughing quietly and she did the same, holding his hands to get up and stand tall. He immediately supported her lower back and neck and drew her in for a kiss. His tongue licked hers and danced with hers, not bothered in the slightest by his own taste.

He pecked her nose and she sighed. “I could sleep a bit more.”

He smiled, “Me too.”

He let her go just enough for the both of them to get under the sheets again and snuggled her when she came closer, hiding her face on his chest.

They drifted off asleep almost instantly, and so it felt like in the same breath they woke up. They were startled by the knocking loud sounds on the door and she pulled away to blink at him in bewilderment. He had a quizzical eyebrow raised and she had her brow creased, completely dumbfounded.

A woman started yelling in Korean and Angie’s expression became almost comical as she sat up, trying but unable to understand a single word. Namjoon sat up too.

“Late! Late!”

“I’m coming! One minute!” Angie finally yelled, and then it quieted down. It had worked, whoever it was left. “What the—”

“She says you’re late, the bride is asking for you.”

She turned to him, then blinked — of course he understood that. She frowned and searched for her phone, “We just drifted off a minute ago, how—”

She gasped and jumped off the bed in two seconds. She had missed calls, and Hyejin had sent her a roll of messages. She played the last audio.

“Angie! Where are you?! I don’t know if I should be concerned or angry, should I call the police?! I need my bridesmaid, I’m almost done and you’re not here! I’m going to cry, please don’t disappear on my wedding day!”

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Indeed it was almost ten in the morning. She turned to Namjoon, who was now getting up with his phone in hand.

“They’re looking for me too.”

“How the heck did my alarm not ring?” Angie groaned.

“It doesn’t matter,” he reminded her, holding her arms. “I’ll leave you to get ready and go and do the same.” She shuddered and nodded. He was so fucking sexy just calming her down like that and focusing her on what mattered. “Will I… see you later?”

She smirked, “If Hyejin doesn’t kill me or kick me out, yes.”

He smiled and turned to search for his clothes and put them on. She grabbed her phone and tapped to record an audio.

“I’m so sorry, Hyejin, my alarm didn’t go off. I’m going to shower and I’ll be there in ten minutes. Stay calm, I love you.”

She sent it quickly and turned to the man in her bedroom. She felt butterflies in her stomach and swallowed them. She probably shouldn’t, she was an adult and she knew how those things went. Still, he wasn’t out of the room yet and she was too tempted.

So while he bent over to put his shoes on, she walked up to him and held his jaw for him to rise back up. She kissed him softly and he stood up by himself, supporting her arms as he did.

Then she pulled back with a small smile. “I’ll see you soon.”

Namjoon nodded and saw her disappear into the bathroom. He shook his head to get the image of her lean back and perky ass out of his mind and turned to leave. Her shower started just before he closed the door behind him.

He rushed down the corridor and used the stairs to go up to his room. He was super fast and ignored the people in the corridor, even though the chances that they were any of the guys were high. He needed to get ready quickly, he also didn’t want to stress Hyejin or miss anything. It was a special day for her and he definitely wanted to be there, they were close friends.

He showered and got ready as fast as he could. He was putting on his gray blazer when someone knocked hastily on his bedroom door and he ran to open it.

On the other side, Jin had wide shocked eyes. In fact, six pairs of eyes were gawking at him.

“Hi guys—”

“He’s here!” Jin yelled, despite the others being equally aware.

“He wasn't here before,” Hoseok frowned, confused.

“Where were you?!” Jimin asked with a scoff.

“Were you hiding somewhere hyung?” Taehyung asked.

They were barging in the room as if searching for something and he had no chances to say anything.

“Where would he hide?” Yoongi whined, with a puff. “Let’s just go, the wedding is in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I want to catch breakfast,” Jungkook rubbed his hands together.

“We just had breakfast,” Hoseok raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, right, you missed breakfast,” Jin turned to Namjoon and pointed it out with a shrug.

“Well, you know, second breakfast,” Jungkook said slowly.

“What are you, a hobbit?” Jimin laughed coming from the bathroom with Taehyung. Were they looking for something?

“No, but these things always drag on,” Jungkook pouted.

“That’s very true,” Jin agreed. "We're going to be hungry."

“We’re going to be late,” Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Where were you anyway, hyung?” Jimin asked, seemingly confident he couldn’t find anything suspicious in his room.

“What do you mean where…” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck while heading for the door. “Let’s g—”

“Why is your bed still made?”

The room quieted down and everyone turned to look at Taehyung, who was standing right beside the bed eying it suspiciously. They all could see in an instant that he was correct, his bed was perfectly made.

Namjoon scoffed, “What do you mean? I always make the bed when I wake up.”

“That’s true,” Jungkook murmured and Yoongi nodded.

“But this perfectly?” Taehyung insisted.

Jimin jumped on the bed and raised something above his head with a victorious chant, “Ah! The chocolate is still under his pillow!”

Everyone then turned to Namjoon to complain.

“It would have melted.”

“What melted, it would have fallen.”

“You should have eaten it.”

“No one leaves the chocolate there.”

“The bed is too perfect, just me jumping on it made more of a mark than your sleep.”

“If you were here before, why didn’t you respond when we came to call you for breakfast?”

“And why did you not answer your phone?” Jimin added, remembering it suddenly.

The room quieted down for a few seconds and most eyes fell on Namjoon, who just frowned in confusion.

Thankfully, Jungkook rubbed his chin and tried, “Maybe he was in the shower…”

“For an hour?” Taehyung scoffed.

“His hair is wet right now, you just showered right?” Jin smirked playfully.

Jin’s question was the last straw and Namjoon just sighed, turned, and walked out the door.

“We’re going to be late.”

The guys whined after him, with Taehyung closing the door behind them all before yelling across the corridor, “Where did you sleep?!”

Namjoon’s eyes widened in a second out of sheer embarrassment before he groaned and turned to go down the stairs with the other six trailing him. He could not be stuck with them in an elevator right now and he needed to burn the energy that stress was causing.

It’s not like he couldn’t tell them, he thought, as they exited the staircase towards the lobby. He quickly rushed to the balcony of the hotel that led to the garden where the wedding ceremony would be held. There, fortunately, the class and formality of the event quieted the others down. He hoped it would distract them enough as he walked quietly to the beverages table and got himself a coffee.

He could tell them, but he wondered if it was correct to do so. He didn’t kiss and tell, that would be rude of him. Additionally, she would be there at the party and if they met her, it could be weird if they knew. What if they said stupid things or insinuated something, he would die with the embarrassment not to mention he wanted to see her again.

I’ll see you soon.

He blushed and it wasn’t from the hot coffee. He wanted to see her again.

“Seriously, hyung.” He turned and Taehyung was there, reaching to grab a coffee too. “I won’t tell anyone, but the curiosity is killing me.”

Namjoon licked his lips and looked around them. There were definitely too many people there, so he started walking as if nonchalantly wanting to walk the gardens. Taehyung followed him.

“Hyung! Trust me, I just—”

“I wasn’t in my room, alright?” Namjoon turned suddenly, almost spilling both their drinks but Taehyung stopped in his tracks before they could clash.

Taehyung grinned widely, “Ah, I knew it!” He was so giddy he would be jumping right now if it wasn’t for the drink. “Who is she? We saw you with a girl yesterday, you guys were talking.” Namjoon groaned and pressed his temples. The lack of sleep was making his head hurt. “Is it her?”

“Excuse me.”

Both men turned, one with panicked eyes, the other with a pout.

“We’re rounding up everyone for the ceremony to start,” the lady told them politely with a bow.

Namjoon bowed back and took the opportunity to drag Taehyung along, “Not a word of this. I’ll tell you, but not now. Please, let’s keep it quiet.”

He gave him a pleading look and Taehyung smiled, “Not a word, hyung. You can trust me.”

They went straight to their seats on the bride’s side, second row, all to themselves. Most people were already there and ready.

“Where were you?” Jin whispered in a scolding tone.

“Coffee,” Taehyung answered sheepishly, sipping on his paper cup. Jimin eyed him suspiciously, but Taehyung had the most angelical expression on.

Namjoon was unaware of this however because his eyes were avidly searching for someone. And luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long. Music started to play and people started making their way down the aisle. He nodded at the groom and some groomsmen he knew. Everyone bowed when the parents of the groom passed, then the mother of the bride. And finally, there was someone that passed that stole his breath away.

Angie was wearing a dark blue dress that delineated her curves beautifully. Her blonde hair was falling on her right shoulder in delicate waves and her cleavage was deep, though not too flashy. She was smiling the whole time, and the corners of her lips twitched when her eyes finally fell on him. He had no idea what kind of face he was making, but only when she passed by him did he blink and break the spell.

Hyejin was of course stunning and nearly crying in happiness as she passed by her friends and family, and Namjoon felt his eyes wet at the sight of her. He glanced to check on the others and everyone was smiling the same, only Yoongi looked down for a moment while Hyejin was left by her dad to her fiancé at the altar.

The ceremony was beautiful and everyone cheered and whistled when they finally kissed as husband and wife. The tables for lunch had been set on the other side of the garden and everyone made their way there after passing by the bride and groom to congratulate them.

As people who stood up front, BTS were one of the first to approach them. Namjoon was behind Yoongi in line, who seemed to want to avoid the moment, but Namjoon wasn’t having it. He knew Yoongi hated feelings, but it was an important moment for Hyejin and—

“You look beautiful,” Namjoon heard Yoongi say quietly.

Namjoon thought it was weird that was all Yoongi said, instead of congratulations and lots of happiness on your marriage. His eyebrows jumped at the way Yoongi and Hyejin were just staring into each other’s eyes, and he looked away quickly. Whatever story they might or not once had just ended, and he felt for Yoongi. Namjoon knew he would never say anything, no matter the words that crossed his mind right now.

He looked up in time to see Yoongi’s pressed lips as he walked away, and then Hyejin’s eyes filled with tears. Namjoon stepped in quickly to hug her and hide her from the world, and she took the opportunity instantly.

“It’s okay,” he whispered against her head, kissing it. She was grabbing him for dear life. “You look stunning, like the brightest of stars, the most perfect flower.” She sobbed once in his chest and he kissed her head again. “We’re all happy for you. We support you no matter what.”

She chuckled and pulled away, cleaning her tears quickly. “Yeah.” She swallowed, “I’m just emotional today.”

He nodded and reached for her hand then kissed it. “We love you, don’t forget that.”

Hyejin smiled, but her lips trembled. Namjoon was ready to move along but Hyejin tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him to lean in, “I’ll say this quickly before I lose the chance to. You and Angie are my closest friends. You guys are a match made in heaven. Don’t hurt her.” He pulled away with wide eyes and she smirked, “Don’t worry, I told her the exact same thing.”

She squeezed his hand and then let it go. He pressed his lips as he processed all those emotions and walked to join the rest of the members at their lunch table.

The party dragged on, and by the time everyone was celebrating and having lunch together, the seat to the right of Namjoon and the left of Jungkook was still empty.

“Who the hell is ‘Angie’ anyway?” Jungkook read with a stutter.

Namjoon pressed his lips as they all dug into the food. He wasn’t sure how to answer that—

“Hi again.”

All seven men stopped eating to see the woman dragging the chair to sit down. She smiled at them with individual nods, smiling a little wider to Jungkook as she sat beside him. Namjoon pressed his lips at this, he wasn’t sure how to take that smile—

“Did you have any trouble making it in time?” She leaned in to ask in his ear, and he immediately felt a blush creep in on his cheeks.

“No, I was fine,” he whispered back in English, trying not to combust. Fortunately, none of the others could understand them. “You?”

Angie puffed as she got ready to taste the appetizer, “Hyejin almost bit my head off.” She hummed at how good it was then smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, I had to tell her.” She looked worried as she waited for his reaction. “It was a survival instinct.”

He grinned, “I understand. She sounded… authoritarian when she, uh… commented about it.”

Angie’s eyes widened, “Oh no… Did she…?” He nodded and Angie sighed. “I'm so sorry. Damn it, I didn’t imagine she would bother you about it.”

He chuckled, “She told you the exact same she told me.” Angie tried eating a bite as she pondered on what to say. “She seems rather protective of us.”

She grinned, “She does, doesn’t she?”

They were interrupted when celebrations started among tables with people giving their speeches and Angie stayed quiet. Despite being a bridesmaid, Hyejin knew why she didn’t want to do a speech — she didn’t speak Korean. She was there to support her best friend, but she knew she wouldn’t really partake in the party.

Namjoon was sweet and translated most of what was happening so she wouldn’t feel left out, and she was thankful. She could sense the other guys’ eyes on her and she decided to become even more invisible.

She lost track of time, they were waiting for dessert when the man on her right side drew her attention.

“Who… are you?”

His English was probably not good, but she smiled at his effort. “I’m Angie,” she answered, bowing shortly.

“I’m Jungkook,” he answered, with a hand on his chest. “Who…” He looked over at Namjoon and she opened her mouth, then closed it.

Her Korean was truly rudimentary so she tried remembering. She knew the word for friend, but she was stomped on how to explain—

“You can say it, I’ll translate,” Namjoon offered with a smile.

“I don’t want to bother you,” she answered with a pained smile.

“You’re not.”

His eyes didn’t rest on her like she hoped they would, and she tried not to feel discouraged.

“I’m Hyejin’s friend. We were roommates for six years in college, so we became pretty close.”

He translated it and all the guys hummed. Another one asked something.

“Jimin asks if you’re also a physician.”

“No, I’m a physicist.” She smiled, then chuckled at their confusion. “Close, but not quite the same.”

She asked about them and was surprised to find they were all singers and idols. They were all very good-looking, but then again so was everyone in Hyejin’s entourage. It made sense because her father and now husband worked in the music industry, but it was always shocking to meet someone seemingly normal but who was truly so rich and famous.

Which reminded her of who she had slept with last night. She kept chatting with them while in the back of her mind, she considered this. Namjoon was too great, it was hard to believe, but then again not that much. He was smart, sensible, polite, hot, and a good lover. She almost scoffed in disbelief, how was he still single? But he had to be, if not for Namjoon not saying anything, at least Hyejin would have when she told her they had spent the night together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names,” she smiled. “Jungkook,” she pointed at the man on her right, who smiled.

One by one they presented each other and she tried not to give it away, but her eyes fell back on Yoongi. So that was the famed Yoongi. She didn’t mean this musically, of course, she didn’t know anything about that.

They chatted and when the party progressed and they got up to get drinks, she smiled and let them go. She was surprised when Namjoon came back with a flute of champagne for her.

“Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile and sat back down.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah,” he answered, sipping on his wine.

“Do you know anything about Hyejin and that guy, Yoongi?”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows, “Well… I mean, I know something but…”

She leaned towards him and whispered, “Will you tell me? It’s a big mystery to me, it’s the only guy she ever spoke about in college.” Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “She clearly liked him, but when she came back here I guess she chose someone else. It always confused me.”

Namjoon looked down and nodded as Angie smiled at Hyejin dancing with her dad.

“This is a secret, I think I’m the only one of the guys who knows,” he started and she zipped her lips closed.

“My lips are sealed. You and I are the only ones that know about this, then.”

He nodded. “We grew up together, she’s Jungkook’s age.” He eyed Angie, suddenly realizing that she was also Jungkook’s age. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he shook his head. “Yeah, so I have known her the longest since I was the first to join the company, and she reminded me of my younger sister, so we became close. Then Yoongi joined and she was struck. She was only fourteen but she crushed on him hard. For years, she hung out with all of us, but she was head over heels for him.”

Angie chuckled, “You mean getting all quiet and red around him?” He nodded. “I’ve seen that, but only in passing. She dated in college, but it was never really serious. She was always hung up on someone from here,” Angie continued with a sad shrug. “One time she got drunk and wailed about the ‘cream’ incident.”

Namjoon was shocked, “You know about that?” She nodded. “You have to tell me!” Her eyebrows jumped. “No one knows what happened, Yoongi never said anything. It’s probably the only secret they both kept from us. Or at least from me.”

She eyed him with squinted eyes, “Hmm, are you trustworthy with such sensitive information?”

His jaw dropped and then he sat up straight, “I thought we were sharing secrets…”

She grinned, “We are… You’ll keep it a secret?”

“I’ll take it with me to my grave.” He promised with a hand over his chest, then his eyebrows puckered. He had said that before.

“It’s silly, really. Basically, when she was eighteen, before she came to the US, she found Yoongi in the kitchen with a can of whipped cream. I think they played for it or something, but it basically exploded on them and covered them up. She was really worried about upsetting him, so she tried to clean him up and I think things got heated. She might have removed her shirt, or his, I don’t remember, but I do know that he grabbed her by the shoulders and firmly pushed her to stand away, then he ran off.” Her smile vanished as she remembered Hyejin telling her this. “She regretted never confronting him about it, or telling him how she felt.” Namjoon stayed quiet. “She saw that as a rejection, but she never had the guts to confirm it.”

“We never knew about that. We only ever saw them covered in cream and they both refused to say anything about it. We even thought they were dating, but they both denied it.”

“I don’t think they ever dated,” Angie commented, glancing at Yoongi sipping on a drink at the bar. “Otherwise she would be marrying him.”

Namjoon nodded with a degree of sorrow, “I agree… I never saw anything that made me believe he might have feelings for her until today. I think he’s suffering in his own way.”

She sighed after they stayed quiet for a while, “That’s so sad… She’s the one that got away…”

“So is he…”

“But why? I mean, they’re both adults,” she frowned, turning to look at Namjoon. “Why did she not go for it when she came back? Was he dating someone else?”

Namjoon’s lips pulled in an attempt at a smile, “No, he wasn’t. He still isn’t.”

Her eyebrows jumped, “Wow, then why? Hyejin knows better than to suck it up—”

“He’s an idol.”

“So?”

He pressed his lips and looked down, “It’s just too complicated. They’d never have a normal relationship, and it would be a lot of pressure for her.” He raised his eyes and he wished it wasn’t hurting him that much to say those things. “She probably never asked because he would have to say no. Even if he wanted to say yes.”

Angie’s expression was pale as one of her eyebrows was lowered in subtle disagreement. She could understand what he was trying to say, but she refused to buy it.

“I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit.” Her tone was soft. “Look at him, do you think it was worth it? We talked about how success turns into emptiness. I told you that not all sacrifices are worth it, and I’m not a renowned billionaire star.” She paused. She was frowning despite not wanting to be harsh on him. She just utterly refused that thought. “If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine how it is for him.” She looked away at Yoongi and then at Hyejin. “I hope no one else goes through the same thing.”

She dragged her chair and got up, and he stuttered to say something but was too late to stop her. He saw her walk away in between all those people and he felt powerless. What could he say? Maybe she was right. Having seen Yoongi and Hyejin grow up together, he surely would have wished it was them getting married today. In a parallel universe, maybe they were. And it was sad to think Yoongi was not as happy as he could have been, but—

“She’s pretty.”

Namjoon turned to see Yoongi sitting on Jin’s spot. Namjoon passed his hand through his hair but nodded. There was nothing to say other than agree.

“And she seems interesting too,” Yoongi mused quietly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t spend hours talking to her like no one else exists.”

Namjoon pressed his lips, unsure of what to say. “When did I—?”

“Last night,” Yoongi answered. “And today, but you said something that upset her.”

Namjoon puffed and rubbed his face. What the hell was happening with him lately?

“We were discussing you, actually,” he admitted, eying his hyung.

“Me?”

“Yes. And Hyejin.”

Yoongi held his eyes then looked down at his drink and Namjoon reached for his. He wouldn’t say more than that, they were discussing secrets after all.

“I love her.”

Namjoon almost choked and Yoongi scoffed.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know, you were probably the only one who ever noticed.”

Namjoon nodded slowly, “How are you?”

“Miserable,” he answered with a smile, then downed his drink. “I’m burying my heart today.”

Namjoon grimaced but didn’t know what to say. “Things could have been different.” Yoongi scoffed and pushed his empty glass away. “Do you regret it?”

Yoongi heaved a deep breath, “I always wanted to be successful, to have a legion of fans. To have money and comfort. To be recognized for the genius I am.” Namjoon hid his smile with his glass. “But losing her… might be the only regret in my life.”

Yoongi’s eyes were intense and had a pain contained in them that made Namjoon instantly worried. He didn’t remember ever seeing his eyes like that, though it was true that Yoongi was the most reserved of them all, especially emotionally.

“So be confident,” Yoongi told him with half a smile. “Whatever you feel or want to do, be confident. You can do it.”

“Guys, you’re not dancing!” Taehyung neared them with the rest of the gang.

“I’m not dancing,” Yoongi scoffed.

“Me neither,” Namjoon agreed with a forced smile.

Angie got back to the table and sat in her spot after giving them a small smile. The guys restarted chatting, but Namjoon couldn’t pay attention. He hadn’t turned to see her or talk to her, but her quiet presence there burned his back. There were things left unsaid between them, he just really didn’t know what he could say.

“You have something on your neck.”

He frowned at the male voice speaking in English and turned back. All men did, in fact, only to see someone familiar talking to Angie.

Jin tried to call him, “Taesun!”

But he was dismissed quickly with a nod. Jungkook muttered something about him being in his spot, and Taehyung agreed quietly.

“What does he want?”

But Namjoon let out a deep breath. He knew exactly what he wanted. Hyejin had asked him to make sure he wouldn’t harass Angie so he should have expected it.

“Taesun—”

“I’ll be with you guys in a minute, okay?” He gave them a half-caustic smile before turning back to Angie in English. “Did you notice? Right here.”

He meant to reach the skin where her shoulder met her neck and she leaned back to dodge his hand with a frown. By doing this she almost bumped into Namjoon, who caught her shoulders gently. She felt supported by his touch, but that was her fight and she shouldn’t bother him.

“Sorry,” she bowed quietly without looking at him before turning to Taesun. “Yes, I know.” Her tone was dry as if she was being bothered, which she was.

He smiled, maybe choosing not to see it. “Did you hit it somewhere by accident or something?”

Her lips curved, “No, I’m pretty sure it was intentional.”

Namjoon had decided to turn halfway towards his bandmates, who were listening to the conversation unapologetically despite not understanding it entirely. He couldn’t help a smile at the snarky tone of her voice, and he hid it under his hand.

“Will you dance with me?”

Namjoon’s lips pressed at the wanton tone of Taesun’s voice, and he closed his eyes. After the last words between him and Angie, he would understand it if she accepted and—

“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” Namjoon’s eyes jumped to her head, unable to hide his interest. “You see, last night I hit more places than my neck, so it would be really uncomfortable to move.”

His hand was covering his face, but anyone could tell he looked concerned. Did he hurt her somehow?

Yet Taesun chuckled and shook his head, “I got it, I got it. It’s a pity, but maybe you’ll change your mind later.”

Her lips curved in a polite smile, but she turned away quickly to grab her drink and dismiss him. The others might have not understood a word, but body language and tone of voice spoke volumes. Jungkook immediately moved once Taesun stepped away to occupy his rightful place beside Angie, and Taehyung followed him. They both leaned worriedly and quietly asked her if she was okay. Taesun was married, and his attitude was really distasteful.

Jin and Hoseok immediately bit the bullet and jumped at the opportunity to distract him.

Yoongi was supporting his head on his hand when he asked quite loudly, “How’s your wife doing?”

Taesun only gave him half a smile before excusing himself.

“How can Hyejin share the same tree branch with him,” Hoseok wondered aloud.

“I need another drink,” Yoongi said, getting up.

The others seemed to decide to follow when they eyed Namjoon, who was staring at the table in front of him while trying to decide something. He was the only one not moving away and Taehyung smacked Jungkook’s shoulder amicably so the youngster would be assured that leaving them alone was okay.

Namjoon reached for Angie’s hand on her lap and she turned to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she assured him with a quick smile.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“But you just said you’re uncomfortable moving.”

He was fully leaning into her now, fixed on her glistening eyes and quite alienated from the rest of the party.

“Yeah, I am with him.” She underlined with clear aversion before her features softened. “I would be comfortable with you, however.”

He smiled and it reached his heart. His dimples were showing.

“I can’t. Too many eyes.”

“It’s just a dance.” Her smile was fading as she understood what was happening.

“I doubt I could keep my hands off you.” His mouth spoke faster than it should have, but it was truthful. He was nothing but himself, he was confident.

“I wouldn’t want you to.”

Their eyes were locked as they let the silence surround them. His hand was still holding hers on her lap, he was definitely too close not to be obvious to any bystander and life… He only had the one.

“When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He nodded with a sad smile, he only could have hoped.

“Would you… have time to be with me?”

He was caressing her hand before he looked up to her eyes.

She was grinning, “Hyejin is leaving on her honeymoon tomorrow. I have all the time in the world until Monday.”

He nodded, “Then stay with me.”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #update #ao3 fanfic #kim namjoon #bts fanfiction unique #writing wip #bts angst #namjoon smut #namjoon bts #bts rm #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfic #lo1k-diamonds writes 💎

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jiminrings · 27 days

Text

fail-safe finale sneak peek :-)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: you hear everything you've ever wanted, but you don't know if it's too late.

alternatively, yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

sneak peek 01

“And he’s…?” she lets the question hang in the air, eyes trailing from Jungkook’s face, to his bicep, to how his forearm fits snugly against your back and his hand curls around your waist. Your mom visibly looks surprised, although you don’t know if it’s about the fact that you actually came back despite everything, or if it’s because her favorite actor is in her kitchen while she’s sweaty in an apron, or if it’s because said favorite actor leaves no space between the two of you.

“Jeon Jungkook, ma’am. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely, a little jittery now that he’s face-to-face with her. He’s only heard of the woman she is from you and as much as he tried to picture her from memory, your stories don’t do her much justice. Jungkook’s always loved your kind eyes and your sweet smile, but he knows now where you’ve got it from; in fact, if he turns around right now right after shaking her hand and bowing profusely, you’re showing exactly those to him — that, along with a pair of gazes he can’t place.

Those gazes aren’t kind at all. One is confused and dumbfounded, and the other harbors nothing but hostility and anger.

“Sweetheart, I know you. Who doesn’t?” your mom’s at a loss for breath, mouth still agape as she keeps flickering her eyes between the two of you. She knows that you’re his manager, but what she doesn’t know is why the Jeon Jungkook is in her humble kitchen of all places. He has the most expressive and sincere eyes ever — he can’t possibly mistake your childhood home as a filming set and your waist as a hand rest.

You finally placate her thoughts when you speak, the loaded silence between the three of you (it’s buzzing with tension if you account for the other two) breaking. You actually giggle, your laughter taking the load off her shoulders because you’re happy; you don’t feel an ounce of guilt even if you’re lying to her face.

“We’re dating, mom,” you grin. “Jungkook’s my boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles automatically, feeling your hand snake towards his own. His palm’s much bigger than yours yet it’s warmer than you’ve ever imagined, the envelope both of your hands make putting you at ease.

Your mom’s gasp bounces across the walls. Namjoon’s head that’s only been lowered the entire time you’ve been back suddenly whips to look at you and Jungkook. The fridge even lowers its hum to make way for the theatrics aimed at you, yet your eyes are fixed on your mom’s and Jungkook’s alone.

You came home for her and with him. You’re not here for anyone nor anything else because it’s merely a play for your survival, only this time, Jungkook’s hellbent on increasing your odds.

Yoongi freezes evidently, hand tightening around Haneul’s bottle as if it would do anything to release the red from his vision. He staggers silently, breathing suddenly ragged as he stares down at the offending steel cylinder. It’s small. Compact. If anything, he figures it would hurt if he were to throw it at anything. Anyone. Someone, even.

“Wow, that’s.. that’s amazing!” she embraces the both of you, making you and Jungkook share a gaze you only laugh through because he actually looks honored.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to let you know personally,” he apologizes meekly for a mistake that isn’t even one in the first place, the humility in his tone making your ears perk. It’s Jungkook once again with the apologies towards you that he shouldn’t be making at all, and yet, even in front of your family, he persists.

Jungkook apologizes even for the things he hasn’t done, not because he plans on doing them, but because a large part of him wants to be in the actual situation wherein those mistakes were merely possibilities.

“It’s no problem at all. You’re busy getting all these awards, I know how that’s like,” she jokes, unable to stop smiling. “I’m just glad someone’s taking care of my baby.”

“And I don’t plan on missing a single day, ma’am.”

“Stop that,” she chides, shaking her head eagerly. “You can call me mom.”

Yoongi lets the bottle clatter to the sink.

sneak peek 02

“Why is everything with you so hard?” Yoongi whispers, his tears stinging badly from the corner of his eyes to the point that he can only make out shapes. He’s unkempt and frantic as if his life flashed before his eyes and there’s nothing he could do about it, voice strained like much of the times he’s drank himself to sleep.

He resembles Haneul at the moment. He’s always had because there’s not one bit of Hyewon in his son’s features or personality, but he looks especially like him now that he’s crying. The back of his hands harshly dig into his face, sobs bursting right from his throat. “Why do I make everything so hard for us? Why can’t I— w-why can’t I make it right for once?”

There’s a tremble to your chest that you ignore earnestly, the presence of it enough to scare you because it’s familiar; too familiar. Seeing your past play out in front of you in the form of a seemingly content family sleeping on your bed is one thing, but it’s another to see its patriarch crumble in front of you. It’s different to see your past pleading in front of you for just the slightest bit of your attention.

As a matter of fact, it’s different now because you resemble Yoongi the most.

“You never tried,” you seethe, jumping the gun before you even try to decipher what’s in the barrel. It’s a bullet you fire haphazardly that comes from your pocket that you’ve always held onto. It’s a misplaced, misshapen, old bullet that you force into a gun that Yoongi passed onto you.

Right now, Yoongi doesn’t resemble Haneul, and neither does he resemble his ex-wife.

He resembles you with the way his eyes are clearly swimming in hurt while you avoid looking at his, just to relieve the painstaking feeling of guilt and longing compacted into a sob.

“I never tried?” Yoongi exhales shakily, his quivering hands running through his hair to tug on them.“I never tried?”

You hear yourself clearly even if it’s his voice. The tremble and the anger, even all the way to the blind hope.

“I kept trying to reach out to you every single time. Every single birthday, every single Christmas, every insignificant holiday I could search up!” Yoongi cries — he actually thrashes with the way he sobs, shoulders shaking violently. “I didn’t try? If I didn’t try, try looking at every page of my passport to see all the stamps there are whenever fucking Jungkook was reported to be in another country,” he spits his name like poison, the vitriol behind it, however, never catching up to what he feels about himself.

You resemble Yoongi the most because you stand untethered, eyes blurring and lips quivering, yet you only watch him lose himself before thinking of uttering a single word.

“I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, and I’m fucking insufferable. I can’t even apologize to you correctly,” Yoongi lists, chest rising up and down too heavily, he feels like it’ll give out. “But I love you, Y/N. I-I might be every bad thing in your life right now and I own up to that. I’m still trying to be the best for you.”

Not only does Yoongi resemble you — he’s actually become you.

“You can call me the vilest names ever but you can’t say that,” he grits, teeth chattering not from the cold he’s put himself in, but because he can’t stop mentioning your name in between. “You can’t say I never tried because I always have. I’ll never stop because that’s what it takes,” Yoongi mutters; because, he says, not if.

#i am so sorry in advance <3 wanna read the finale now? subscribe to my patreon for early access + exclusive content + everything :D

also yes: the finale will still be posted here on tumblr, but at a later date, aka april 7, 1 am kst :)

#sneak peek

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oddinary4bts · 7 months

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When the End Comes | ch 2 (jjk)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: moving, curses, alochol, explicit content: female and male masturbation, pain kink (Jungkook), mentions of blowjob and penetrative sex

☆word count: 8.7k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: I don't even know what to say about this chapter, just that I FEEL their pain so much :'( justice for my babies

☆a/n pt2: Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, you are the best <3

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End Comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes, Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

Thursday, July 6th

Days and weeks have passed. Apparently, even months have. Jungkook hasn’t really noticed – he’s been stuck in a daze, stuck replaying your breakup over and over again. Wishing he’d begged you to stay, though he could tell that nothing would have been fruitful.

You had made your decision already.

He hasn’t done anything since you left. Hasn’t left your apartment except for looking for a new one, when Yoongi forced him to go. Because alone, he can’t afford the one you had together. And it’s too filled with memories anyway.

All the pictures on the shelves by the window, turned towards the wall the night you left. The echo of your laugh, in every room he steps in. The ghost of you, just a silhouette he can’t ever reach when it’s dark and his mind is playing tricks on him.

The night you left, he thought it was a joke. A sick, twisted prank, and he believed you’d come back. When hours passed and dawn approached, he got up from the spot where he was sitting in, near the door, and turned the pictures towards the wall before heading to bed.

He hadn’t been able to sleep in the bed, and he’d slept with Bam directly on the floor.

A few nights later he’d made an actual bed with blankets on the floor, and he’s been sleeping there since then. But not tonight – tonight he’ll try sleeping in bed, in his new apartment.

A space that shouldn’t remind him of you too much.

He’s packed almost everything before today. He had nothing else to do, and it served to keep his mind busy during the long hours of the day. At night he usually has nothing to keep his mind from going to you, and he thinks he’s stuck in the moment when you left.

It’s a looped film in his mind, a horror movie that will forever haunt him.

The boys are helping. They brought most of the boxes he’s packed to his new place already, a small studio in the same building as Yoongi and Kiko. It’s on the other side of town, far from where he built a life with you, and he really hopes your ghost won’t follow.

Though he doubts he’ll ever escape it.

Everyone is currently doing a trip to the other apartment, except Jungkook and Yoongi. Mostly because Jungkook has been standing in the empty living room, save for the pictures on the shelves.

You left with the couch and the dinner table, telling him to keep the TV even though you were the one to buy it years ago. And that day you came to pick up your stuff…

Another haunting moment to add to the long list that’s been tormenting him since you broke up.

He shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, jaw clenching as the familiar ache takes over his heart. He doesn’t want to cry today – at least not before he’s alone in his new place. Because he hates how his friends are concerned, hates that he can’t just stay home alone.

None of them understand the sorrow that’s been plaguing him – hell, all of them except Jimin are happily dating. A dirty, ugly part of him hates them for it, and he’s been trying to distance himself.

“You good?” Yoongi asks, startling him.

Jungkook’s hand falls to his side, and he forces his eyes open. Yoongi is next to him, an eyebrow cocked in question. “Yeah.”

“Do you want me to put these in a box?” Yoongi enquires, and Jungkook clenches his fist as Yoongi’s pointing to the pictures.

“I can take care of it.”

It takes him a few seconds before he does get in motion, and he heads to the shelves. There’s already a box waiting for the frames, one Taehyung put there earlier before Jungkook told him not to touch anything.

“Do you want help?” Yoongi asks carefully.

Jungkook steels himself as he grabs the first picture. He already knows which it is, from its placement on the shelf. It’s one of his exhibit’s pictures. The one he titled ‘Where I found hope again’. It’s the sunset from the living room of the apartment he’d found for you.

Seeing it hurts, but he barely pays attention to it, carefully putting it in the box before grabbing the next one. There you are, cheeks red and smile bright in the snow of December, and he feels like dying as he remembers the name of that one.

‘Where I learned to love again’. It feels like it’s laughing at him right now, like life is having a good laugh at his expense. He wants to throw it away, to burn and watch your beautiful form crumbling into ashes.

Instead, he puts it away, before moving to the next one. He thinks he goes blind – he doesn’t see the next pictures. Doesn’t focus on any of them, and lets the ache take over his action, over his heart. When he’s done, he realizes that the apartment is once again filled with voices – none of them being the right one, and he wishes to be alone.

Wishes to be allowed to crumble, to let himself be carried by the wind.

The rest of the day is a blur. He barely remembers getting to his new place, riding shotgun next to Jimin while Taehyung and Namjoon talked about something on the backseat. Jimin was silent, respecting Jungkook’s need to not speak, and maybe it’s for that reason that Jungkook says yes when Jimin asks if he wants some company when the others finally start filing out at the end of the day.

They all hug him tight, tell him that they love him and hope he’ll like his new place. With everything placed, Jungkook knows that he’ll always hate it, because it lacks the only thing that he truly wants – you.

And he’ll never have that again.

“Want to order something?” Jimin asks.

Jungkook is sitting on a kitchen chair, watching the condensation on his glass of water when Jimin speaks. He raises his head – his friend is scrolling on his phone, and he shoots Jungkook a look as he remains silent.

“Sure,” Jungkook finally answers. “Did you have anything in mind?”

Jimin nods. “There’s this great dumpling place nearby, and they deliver.”

“Oh.”

If Jimin notices Jungkook’s lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t mention. Because Jimin is a good friend – he’s been one of Jungkook’s closest friends for years for a reason after all.

“Pork and green onion works for you?” Jimin asks.

“Sure.”

“I’ll get the marinated cucumbers too.” Jimin pouts at his phone as he focuses, and then his gaze darts once to Jungkook. “Anything else you want? They got bobas too.”

Just thinking about drinking boba makes Jungkook feel nauseated, so he shakes his head no. Jimin purses his lips, nods curtly and then says the food is on its way.

His statement is followed by silence, until the front door opens as Yoongi returns with Bam, as promised. Kiko was taking care of him all day, since she and Yoongi live in the same building. Yoongi promises that Bam was a good boy, and then he leaves again, nodding his head at Jimin.

As if to say ‘thank you for being here’. Jungkook hates the gesture, hates that he let Jimin stay, but he figures he can always just ask him to leave when they’re done with the food.

He had to eat anyway, right?

Needless to say, his appetite has been off, since the day you left. He’s been working out more though, something to keep his mind busy, but he’s been unable to eat like before. Jimin forces him to eat half the dumplings though, and Jungkook reckons that even after everything, dumplings still slap.

Not a lot of things in life still slap without you around.

One thing that does suck is, Jimin tries to make conversation through dinner. He asks Jungkook if he has any project coming up, if he ever plans on returning to Europe. The answer is easy, and Jungkook gives it without an ounce of hesitation.

“No.”

Jimin cocks an eyebrow, as if surprised by his answer. “Why?”

Jungkook grits his teeth, but offers no answers. He thinks it’s obvious – he’s been hating the European continent ever since the night you left because he can’t bring himself to hate you instead. So he directed it to the place that took you from him, and so far it’s been keeping him going.

“You know…” Jimin carefully says. “We’ve all been avoiding talking about it. But how are you even doing, bro? Every time I see you it’s just…”

Worse. He’s convinced that’s what Jimin was going to say, and he doesn’t blame him. It’s worse every time because he has been getting worse. As if adding another mark on the calendar equals to adding another on his heart, and the wounds haven’t had time to heal.

He doesn’t think there’s enough time in a lifetime to heal from losing you.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook lies easily.

Bam offers him salvation, barking by the door. As he rarely does, Jungkook gets up, a frown moving on his features. Jimin lets him go, even as Jungkook mumbles he’ll take the dog outside. His friend remains silent, and Jungkook is able to slip into the evening without Jimin pressing him about the lie.

As Jungkook had assumed, Bam just needed to pee, and probably barked because of the unfamiliar environment. Jungkook debates taking him on a walk, hoping Jimin would be gone by the time he comes back, but it feels too cowardly, even for him.

So he takes Bam in right away – the walk would have been hell anyway.

Jimin hasn’t moved while he was gone, and Jungkook tries to avoid the conversation by cleaning the table, putting away the empty dumpling container in the recycling bin after he’s rinsed it thoroughly. He feels Jimin’s gaze boring into the back of his head, but he does his best to ignore it.

“You shouldn’t drop your job in Europe,” Jimin suddenly says.

Jungkook whips around from his spot by the counter under which the recycling bin is. “What?”

“Isn’t it…” Jimin winces, shaking his head slightly. “Listen, this will be tough love, but isn’t it losing everything if you just… drop it too?”

Jungkook sees red. “Get the fuck out.”

“Bro.”

“Get the fuck out,” he repeats, putting emphasis on each word.

“We’re just worried about you,” Jimin says carefully, still not moving from where he’s sitting.

Jungkook has half a thought that he could carry his friend out if he wanted to, but surprisingly enough his heart breaks in his chest, tears blinding his vision.

“I just can’t go, okay?” he chokes out, and his nails dig in the palm of his hands as he clenches his fists hard. “I just can’t.”

Jimin watches him carefully, before sighing deeply. “Okay. It’s okay. There’s plenty of stuff you can do here too.”

Jungkook gulps, blinking the tears away until Jimin is clear in front of him again. “Can I…”

He stops, because he knows he shouldn’t ask. Knows he shouldn’t care, yet he can’t help himself. Jimin doesn’t press, waits for him to be able to speak. It takes longer than Jungkook thought possible, and he has to shut his eyes and lean against the counter before he finds words again.

“Can I ask how she has been doing?” he voices, words falling softly, almost soundlessly, in the space between them.

“Jungkook…”

“Just,” Jungkook lets out, eyes shooting open. “Please tell me she’s okay.”

Jimin’s silence is telling enough – you must be going through it too. It fills Jungkook with bitterness, with something vile and disgusting that tastes like bile on his tongue. Because you don’t get to be suffering, you don’t get to have made this decision and suffer from it.

Why the fuck did you make that decision then?

“You know,” Jimin starts carefully. “You guys were together for a long time.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks. “Why did she do this?”

And then the tears are moving freely, and Jimin quickly gets up to hug him. Jungkook rests his forehead against his friend’s shoulder as he breaks in the embrace, like he’s been doing for weeks now.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jimin promises when the tears recede and Jungkook stops trembling, as if his body, too, is too tired to keep on breaking.

Strangely, he gets the feeling there’s nothing left to break anyway.

“How?”

Jimin remains silent for a while, as if searching for the exact right words to say. Jungkook doubts they exist – how can someone repair a broken heart such as his?

“Life finds a way,” Jimin eventually chooses to say. He pulls away from the hug, though he still holds onto Jungkook’s shoulders. “Life always finds a way.”

Saturday, July 15th

You’re tired. Have been tired. Think you’ll forever be tired. A relentless exhaustion has settled over you like a mantle of snow settles on the land during the months of winter. With it comes an unshakable cold, and even though it’s summer you’ve been cradling your hoodie to your frame, draping yourself with it as if it’ll chase the cold away.

The cold is never going to leave. You think your heart turned to ice in your chest, and it pumps freezing blood into your veins. You’ve been trying to warm up, but heat is a mirage to you, an illusion you can’t reach.

Heather and Bridget are hosting a dinner at their apartment today. You’d wanted to avoid it, but considering they offered you a room for a few weeks before you found a new apartment, you couldn’t say no. Yet you dread the moment you’ll be faced with the other girls, some of them your friends because they are dating… his friends.

You’ve been trying not to think about him too much. It’s hard – he’s lurking at the back of your mind, a reminder of your failures. Of the places where you went wrong, the mistakes you committed. Not that the breakup was a mistake – you think you made the right decision, or at least you’ve been trying to convince yourself that you have.

But you didn’t lie to him – you love him. Still do, though now it’s more like grief. Though, what is grief if not the next step in the eternal timeline of love?

You worry at your lips, bury your hands in the pocket of the hoodie. You fumble with your keys as you wait in front of the door, as you try to knock but find you’re unable to. Because it means talking to them, it means pretending that you have been able to eat or sleep for weeks.

You reckon Heather and Bridget know, to a certain extent. Saw you wither like a flower when autumn comes, though you think now you’re settled in deep winter.

You think it’ll pass. You doubt a pain like this can last – no soul can withstand it forever. But that would be admitting that he was your soulmate, and you aren’t stupid.

Soulmates don’t exist. Because if he was, why then was the distance enough to break you up?

You sigh, eyes falling to the ground in front of your feet. You take a steadying breath – it does nothing to help.

You’re a coward. You’ve become a coward, and you think it might be because you put all of your courage in that night weeks ago. It broke you, broke the steel you used to be able to drape yourself with.

Now you’re stuck in the never-ending winter, withered and lifeless.

“Y/n!” Jo says, and you startle.

You turn your head to the side to see Jo as she’s walking around the corner, and she smiles at you as she makes her way towards you.

“Hey,” you reply as your throat goes dry.

If he has a best friend, or at least a female one, you think it’d be her. They’ve been friends since before you reconnected with him, since before you even knew her. Seeing her feels like it’s wrong, but then again everything has been feeling wrong lately.

“Did you already ring?” Jo asks as she stops next to you.

You purse your lips, shaking your head no. “Huh,” you let out. “I was about to.”

Jo nods, and you think she immediately senses your unease. She’s a good person though, and an even better friend. She doesn’t say anything, and she rings the door for you.

You don’t know what to tell her. All that you can think of is, if someone has news about him, it would be her. She’s the only one you believe there’s a chance he’s been honest to.

Before you can say anything, the door opens and Bridget ushers you inside. You realize that you’re the last ones to get there – you usually never are. Usually always make sure to be the first, only so that you can help the hosts.

It seems losing him changed that.

You greet everyone half-heartedly, quickly moving towards Jiho. Jiho hugs you, tells you she’s happy you came. You can’t return the sentiment, so you offer her a tight-lipped smile as Heather announces that dinner is ready.

Their chatter is lively. You feel like you’re watching the scene through a frosted window. Like you’re stuck in a blizzard, watching people reveling in the warmth of the other side, wishing somehow that they’d share it with you. And it’s not that they don’t try; multiple times throughout dinner the other girls try to talk to you.

You reply, you always do, but there is just so little to say, so little words your brain can conjure up. It’s like your thoughts are slower – you’ve been that way at work too. You’re lucky, you haven’t been working on anything big in the last few weeks. But next week you will be, and you don’t even know if you’ll be able to do it.

At least Harrison is on the case with you. As one of the most talented junior partners of the firm, you think he’ll be able to manage the case even with you at his side.

You eat what you can, though you’ve run out of appetite before you even broke up. You force yourself, mostly because you don’t like how Kiko’s looking at you. How you notice her leaning to speak in Jo’s ear more than once during the meal.

You’re aware that they’re speaking of you – do they hate you as much as you hate yourself?

You doubt they can.

When dinner is over, you offer to clean the dishes. Jo ends up on washing duty with you, and you work in silence, water sloshing around as you rub the plates clean while she dries.

You’re cleaning a wine glass when she says, “How have you been?”

The question is a simple one. The truth isn’t so, and you wonder if you should lie. You think it’d be a mistake. Jo’s perceptive, she’d see right through the lie.

“I’ve been better,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders as if it doesn’t matter.

That much is a lie, because everything about him mattered.

“I can understand.”

Heavy silence follows, and you pass the glass to her. You hope she won’t speak more, hope she’ll offer you kindness and let you dwell on your mistakes, but you know it’s unlike her.

Indeed, she speaks up after a minute. “You know…” She pauses, and you glance once at her to find her features troubled. “I was wondering… what brought you to this decision?”

You freeze, hands in the water. It’s hot enough that your skin is turning scarlet, yet you barely even feel it. “What?”

“If you don’t want to speak about it it’s fine,” she gently says. “But I’m just concerned about you.”

“Did he ask you to ask me this?” you enquire, accusingly. You frown at the tone of your voice, and apologize as you resume washing the glass you’re holding.

“No,” she answers. “He hasn’t really been talking to anyone.”

You shudder, with horror and compulsion at the person that you were weeks ago, the one that caused him to isolate himself.

“Oh.”

Jo waits a moment, but when it’s clear that you aren’t going to speak again, she says, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t prod.”

You wet your lips, swallow around the lump in your throat. “It’s okay.”

Perhaps that’s also a lie. Perhaps you believe nothing is okay, nothing will be okay again. But you don’t voice it – it’s all your fault anyway.

“It’s okay if it isn’t okay, you know,” Jo gently says as you hand her a glass.

Your vision blurs, but no tears fall. No tears are left – you cry them to sleep every night already.

“Long distance is a bitch,” is what you eventually say. “You think you can make it through everything, and then long distance happens.”

You want to clench your hand around the third glass, want to feel the shards of it cutting through your palm like the shards of him have been stabbing through your heart. You force your grip to remain loose, lest you stain the sink with blood.

“Like for real, without it we would have been fine.”

You’ve told Jiho the same thing. You think you’ve told him the same thing, but you barely even remember the breakup. Just remember holding onto him at the end, and then winter seeping in through the crevices in your soul.

“I’m sorry.” Jo looks at you kindly when you glance her way. She offers you a sad smile that you want to hate, yet it just makes you want to break. “I’m really sorry it came between the two of you.”

You take a deep breath to tame the aching in your chest, nodding once. “It’s whatever.”

“It’s not.”

She’s right, so you remain silent. Choose to seek solace in a wordless moment, one you spend finishing the dishes. And when you’re done, and she’s wiping the last one, you find yourself asking, “How has he been doing?”

She stops moving, meets your gaze before letting her gaze drop to her hands. “As I said, he doesn’t really speak to anyone.”

“Which means he hasn’t been great.”

You know him enough to know that. She does too – she nods, before shrugging her shoulders. “Jimin and Tae have been making sure he’s okay though. Surviving.”

Because sometimes all there is to do is survive.

You’re relieved that his friends are there for him. It lessens the pain somehow, to know he’s not alone. You aren’t either – Jimin is your friend too and, even though she’s a mom of two, Jiho has been there for you ever since the breakup.

The first time Lisa asked you where Jungkook was though… felt like heartbreak uttered in an innocent sentence. Like the universe had gone wrong, like left and right were interchanged. You were lost then, and you still are today.

All at your expense.

“Good,” you answer.

She looks conflicted, pained – you understand why when she asks, “What about you?”

You clench your jaw out of reflex, as if it’s an accusation. As if admitting that you’re going through frozen hell is wrong of you, somehow. You think it is. After all, this is supposed to be better than the distance.

“I’ve got Jimin too, and Jiho,” you reply, voice strained. “Bridget and Heather too. They’ve been helping.”

Jo nods. “Good. Don’t isolate yourself.” There’s a pause, and her features turn pensive. “And you know, you got me too. You have all of us.”

Tears blur your vision, but like your soul they turn to ice before rolling down your cheeks. “Thank you.”

Smile apologetic, she nods again, as if her job here is done. And it must be – Kiko and Bridget walk into the kitchen, and they clearly don’t sense the atmosphere that’s clinging to you. They strike conversation with Jo, happily, and her stance switches to one that’s more relaxed.

You decide to leave them alone, because these three have always been a little closer to each other than you to them, and you return to the other room, where Chaeyeon, Valeria, Jiho and Heather are lounging on the couches. You debate leaving, debate claiming that you have to work early in the morning, but somehow you choose not to.

Is it a sign that you’re moving on? You don’t know.

When you do leave, later that night, at the same time as Jo and Chaeyeon do, you find yourself walking next to Jo as you head to your respective cars. Lance is picking Chaeyeon up, and she waves you two goodbye as you walk away.

You stuff your hands in the long sleeves of your hoodie, as if the air outside is remotely cold. It is not – there’s been a heatwave around for a few days. Luckily enough for you, a freezing heart seems to be a good remedy for the heat, and you still seek the comfort of your hoodie.

“I was wondering,” Jo says as you near where your car is parked. “Are you still planning on coming to the wedding?”

The forsaken wedding. The thing that set everything in motion – the spark that caught fire on years of your relationship.

You purse your lips, shrug your shoulders. “I think so,” you voice. “Yeah. You two are my friends, even if…”

If you’re closer to him. You don’t say as much, but it’s needless. Jo nods, understanding as ever, and she tells you that you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.

You think she’s a fool for believing that you wouldn’t want to go. Because… what’s wrong with wanting to make sure he’s okay with your own two eyes? What’s wrong with needing to see him in another context than this never-ending winter?

That night, you lie awake for hours. Picturing him behind your closed eyelids, only to find emptiness where he should be. The blankets are cold, the fan overhead not needed, yet you can’t bring yourself to turn it off.

Can’t chase the feeling of his absence from your heart.

You seek solace in memories of him, in the thought of his lips on yours. Of the featherlight kisses you used to exchange in the dead of night, when sleep was evading you or him. You must be half asleep – because suddenly you can almost see him here. Can almost hear his voice as he’d call you baby, mouthing the word against your neck before he’d suck on it.

Your heartrate picks up with the memory – they’re flooding in. The smell of his skin, the taste of his lips, the inebriating sweetness of his kisses. You remember the weight of him on you, the press of his knee between your legs.

And then you seek solace with a hand between your thighs, trying to remember how he touched you. How his long fingers always dragged you to a land of pleasure, how he’d managed to keep you there until you were insane with his taste.

You breathe out his name, a soft moan, though it’s almost a plea. A plea for him to appear, for him to never have been gone.

For you to never have pushed him away.

When you come down from the high that finds you in your memories, you lie on your side, holding one of your plushies to your chest. They don’t replace him; they never have.

You end up crying yourself to sleep over the memories, over the July night sky and the dance crew and every night you took for granted, believing that he’d be yours forever.

You cry for your decision, no matter how right it was. Because you know it’ll always feel wrong.

Friday, July 28th

There’s something about work that’s been setting you on edge. That’s been making you want to pull your hair out of your head – if only that was possible. It’s strange; you’ve been thinking about the breakup less now that you’re neck deep in work.

Now that you spend hours upon hours at work, after the usual closing time.

Luckily enough, you’re almost never alone. Harrison accompanies all of those late evenings as you work through the case, as he tells you what to do and you tell him you don’t need his help. He laughs at that – Harrison has an easy laugh. It makes its way to his lips whenever you speak, and it’s been like a ray of light in the otherwise dark land of your heart.

He’s a good coworker. Someone that’s noticed just how bad you are, but that’s decided to not treat you differently. To let you nurse your heart in peace, while he offers you the normalcy of what work should be.

Today, at lunch break, he suggested going out for dinner and drinks, along with the rest of the team that’s been working on the case. Mostly because you’re finally closing in on something that is clearly going to be good, and he believes it’s important to celebrate. You don’t have it in you to say no, and that’s how you find yourself squeezed between him and Anna, the paralegal that you’ve worked with the most, in the booth of a nice pub near the firm.

You’ve been sharing a nacho plate with Harrison and Ian, another one of the junior partners of the firm, and you’re sipping on a glass of the pitcher of sangria that Anna ordered for you and her. The buzzing of chatter and laughter makes the pub into a lively place, and you reckon you like the atmosphere.

You like the plants that cascade from their pots on shelves in the walls, like the hanging lights that shine brightly onto the tables, like the brick wall that gives the pub a nice industrial vibe. It just feels right, different than your usual.

Or maybe it’s the fact that the crew is different. That you aren’t with people that inevitably remind you of Jungkook, even though they shouldn’t.

Harrison’s English accent catches your attention as he says something to Ian – something about leaving work related conversation to the firm. As you turn your head towards the man at your side, he offers you a glance.

Harrison has clear blue eyes. Pale, like they hold the Caribbean sea in them. His eyes are beautiful, sparkling, and you offer him a smile.

He’s quick to smile back, and then he continues his conversation with Ian, who’s decided to speak about sports instead. You decide to join in, even though you know practically nothing about sports, and the two men tease you for it.

There’s no bite to it, yet it feels familiar. Reminds you of someone that used to tease you all the time, and with the sangria coursing through your veins, you decide to jump on the occasion. To let the past be the past, and live in this moment, for once.

Perhaps it holds some sort of salvation for you.

“It’s not my fault if football is boring!” you insist. “It’s just dudes throwing a ball. Who cares about that?”

Harrison nudges you with his elbow. “Hey come on,” he says. “They don’t only throw a ball, sometimes they kick it too.”

He’s got a teasing smile on his lips, and to your surprise you find yourself rolling your eyes. “And the point system? Stupid.”

“It isn’t!” Harrison says, faking offense. “You wound me.”

You cock an eyebrow as Ian laughs, before turning to speak to Sam next to him as the guy asks him a question.

“Aren’t you British anyway?” you ask him. “Why do you watch football?”

“Because I like dudes that throw balls,” he jokes, before realizing that his sentence sounded wrong as you burst out laughing. “Well, not like that.”

“No, of course not,” you tease back.

“It’s just a fun sport,” he insists. “Used to watch it with my step-dad when I was younger.”

Now, the revelation eases the teasing mood that you’ve been diving into, and you offer him a small smile. “Sounds like fun.”

Because you can get that. You can understand the need to love something because someone you loved introduced you to it – dance was that for you, once upon a time. When your mother had introduced you to it, when you were too young to realize that to her, you dancing was just going to be an accomplishment.

Until it became a curse, as you chose to not pursue ballet the way she wanted you to. But that’s old history – even though you still don’t talk to your mother all that much, the hatred you’ve held for her for years after she’s kicked you out is lesser now. Practically non-existent, and you have your therapist to thank for that.

Years of therapy really did help, eventually.

You realize, tonight, how you haven’t really been living since you broke up. You’ve been a mere ghost, a mere winter wind, but tonight you think the air warms up. It warms up into a tentative spring breeze, and you cling to it.

You say yes when Harrison suggests heading to a club after, a VIP one where he’s a member along with Ian. Say yes to the shots offered to you, and you ignore the texts in the group chat with the girls saying that they want to meet up for lunch tomorrow. You focus on the now, focus on the fact that he’s not all you’re thinking of.

No, his big, doe eyes barely exist in your mind right now, replaced by ocean blue and an English accent. At least that’s what you tell yourself as Harrison says he’s a shit dancer, and you admit you were on a dance crew for years.

He cocks an eyebrow, says you’re full of shit, and that’s how you find yourself pulling him to the dance floor, not caring that his hair is paler than your usual, that his smile rings different.

Harrison is not a good dancer. He’s awkward, clumsy, and he steps on your feet more than once as you dance face to face, swaying to the beat of the club music. The flashing lights feel like a haven, like you don’t have to hide in the darkness left by Jungkook’s disappearance from your life.

You let Harrison put his hands on your waist, let him pull you closer, until he’s resting his forehead on yours. Your eyes shut from the proximity, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Somehow, that’s what makes you remember – not the dancing, but the intimacy of the position. It makes you crave another, makes you need to forget, and you’re the one that closes the gap.

You’re the one who kisses him first, and he kisses you back all wrong. There’s something missing – the piercing, perhaps – but you don’t let it deter you. Focus on the swipe of his tongue on your bottom lip, and you sigh as you let him in.

But Jungkook is there, in your mind. When Harrison’s hands tighten on your waist, it’s in Jungkook’s hair that you want to thread your fingers through. When he groans softly in the kiss, as you bite his lower lip, it’s Jungkook’s lips that you want to be sucking on.

And you think it’ll always be Jungkook. He’ll haunt you forever – a reminder of your weakness, when it came to the distance. A reminder that, after everything, you’re the one that ruined it.

You’re the one that put an end to what was supposed to be forever.

It aches, coldly. You think your heart barely knows how to beat anymore. It’s erratic, painful, and when Harrison pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes finding yours, you think his irises are made of ice.

“Hey,” he says gently.

“Hey,” is all you can think to reply.

If he sees the torment in your eyes, he ignores it. Guides you back to the table, where he leaves you with Ian and the rest claiming that he’ll get a water for you. And he does – he comes back with two bottles of water, and he hands you one as he sits next to you.

You think that’s what undoes you. That’s what breaks you, spills the content of your aching soul right there on the club’s floor. You don’t know who’ll pick up the mess – the one it belongs to is far away from these flashing lights. Far, yet closer than he was when the ending came. Somewhere in the city, you believe, because you don’t think he’s gone back to Europe yet.

Would he answer, if you were to call him? Would he pick up right where you left off, whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if you haven’t destroyed his beating organ?

You hate it. Hate how, weeks later, the torture hasn’t diminished. Hate how you believed it’d be just a few rough days, when it’s been weeks and months and winter hasn’t changed.

So you do what you do best. You escape. Tell the table that you have to go, and make it outside before Harrison catches up to you. He asks if he can walk you home, which makes sense because you live in the same complex anyway. Not the same building, but Harrison lives in the one across the small square-like courtyard between the three condo towers where you’ve found a place to rent after Jungkook.

Up above, stars twinkle in the sky. They seem unaware that, after that cataclysm of a July night, the story came to an end. Like the universe never meant it, when it put you and him together. Or maybe it’s you – maybe you created a new cataclysm. Wrote your own fate, and all that crap.

You’re getting dizzy. Both with alcohol and spinning thoughts, but luckily enough the walk is short. Harrison grants you silence, sensing that you need it, probably. Because he’s gentlemanly. Not that Jungkook wasn’t – it’s just different.

And you shouldn’t be comparing him to Jungkook, but it’s far too easy. Especially as your treacherous little mouth asks him if he wants to share a drink in your apartment, as you tell him that you feel better now that you’ve breathed some air.

He says yes, though he seems unsure. He seems unsure all the way up to your floor, and even more so as you pull him in a kiss when the door closes behind you and him. Especially as you breathe against his lips, “Do you think you can make me forget?”

After everything is done, and you lie awake next to his naked form, both of you staring up at the ceiling in silence, you know the answer to that question.

And it’s quite simple – no. Because no one will ever be able to make you forget the one you were supposed to be with until you turned to stardust. Until all that would have been left of the two of you was etchings on a stone, and memories in the space between this life and the next.

Harrison is kind – he tells you that he senses you shouldn’t have done it, gently. Tells you that the only person that can make you forget is yourself, and time. And when he leaves, he tells you not to worry about anything. That he can be a friend, if you need it, but that he doubts you want anything more.

He’s right, and you cry yourself to sleep holding onto Totoro and Appa, hoping weeks ago you would have listened to Jungkook when he’d said not to break up. Hoping to turn back time, cursing the linearity of it. Remembering the punctuate events of you and him, wondering how the distance was enough to undo your timeline.

The sun winks at you when it rises, mocking you as night ends, with no answer for you. The what-ifs shine as brightly as the rays of the morning, all of them piercing through your darkened heart.

You shiver and hide your face in Totoro, hoping one day you’ll be able to evade winter.

Friday, August 18th

Jungkook’s first thought when he steps into the restaurant is that it’s too loud. Too bright, with happy couples and smiling families sharing a meal as if life’s never ended, three months and ten days ago. He feels like an imposter – he hasn’t smiled since you left, and hasn’t laughed since before that.

He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, when Taehyung suggested it. Maybe because Taehyung and Jimin can be firmly persuasive, when they decide they’ll do something. Though, this time around, they’re not doing anything.

Anything other than having set this blind date with one of Taehyung’s coworkers.

Jungkook decides to find solace in his thoughts. Away from the bustling crowd of the restaurant, into the cool darkness where he’s been evading since he moved to his new apartment. Somewhere where the pain is lesser, where he doesn’t cry all the time.

That’s where she finds him. A shy smile, rosy cheeks as she voices, “Jungkook?”

He meets her gaze, finds her long lashes as she looks up at him innocently. He’s struck – she’s way out of his league. But so were you, and he’s got a whole story to tell about you now. He looks around as if to make sure the girl was speaking to him, as if she didn’t say his name, before he answers, “I assume you’re Emma.”

Another shy smile, and Emma nods her head. “The one and only.”

Jungkook wets his lips, and when the server comes to bring them to a table, he lets his gaze drop to the ground as he follows behind Emma.

He sits in front of her, feeling odd as she blushes and looks through the menu. Her shyness makes him feel awkward, and he doesn’t know what to say.

With you, he always knew what to say.

He shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and then lets his eyelids flutter open so that he can look through the menu too. He thinks, he just has to make it through the evening. Doesn’t have to see the girl again, even though her shy smiles are cute.

She is cute, but she’s not you. No one will ever compare to you.

He takes a deep breath once more, tries to push you out of his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, it’s not as hard. Maybe because his awkwardness is winning over, making him all too aware of every glance the girl throws his way.

They order, barely exchanging a word, until the girl throws him a lifeline. She asks about his photography, admits Taehyung told her about it, and Jungkook settles in his comfort space as he tells her about it, as he answers her question.

It’s impersonal, almost professional, but at least it keeps the pain at bay for a while. He even thinks he’s enjoying himself – by the time they’re eating and he’s drank half of his beer, he does feel lighter. Like he can finally breathe, like the hand clutching his heart in his chest has loosened.

Or maybe he’s just been getting too good at burrowing his feelings deep inside of him. Still, he barely smiles, barely laughs. And he knows none of his smiles quite reach his eyes, and he knows the girl must have noticed. She doesn’t say anything though, focuses on telling him what she does for work, and then goes on to tell him about what it was like for her growing up.

He zones out, nods when he figures he has to, tries to smile when there’s a lull in the conversation. He’s clearly not good at that – he’s never really gone on dates before. Except with Laura, before you, but even that barely counted as a date. Perhaps because he already knew Laura, and he’s struck thinking that the girl in front of him is a stranger. A stranger, yes, but she’s kind. So when she suggests sharing a bottle of wine, claiming that it’s her favourite and that she’s wanted to drink it in a long time, Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to say no.

Even though they’re already done with eating. She does order dessert, and he watches her eat as he nurses his glass of wine, taking sips from it once in a while.

He hasn’t drunk in a long time, and the effects start to be felt faster than usual. Or maybe the beer he drank before the wine was strong. Either way, his head starts swimming with alcohol before they’re out of the restaurant, and he relishes in the feeling.

Revels in Emma’s suggestion to take a walk to clear their head, along the small river near the restaurant. The evening air is fresh, though clouds hide the stars from view. It smells of rain – there are leftover puddles from earlier today – but it doesn’t seem like the sky will cry again tonight.

A soft breeze plays in Jungkook’s hair. He hasn’t cut it in a while. It used to be a lot longer, but he’s not used to it anymore, so it feels weird whenever strands of his hair pass in front of his eyes. He tries to push them back but to no avail: the strands stubbornly always fall in front of his eyes again, and he ends up giving up after a moment.

Turns out Emma is a gamer. She suggests playing some games together the next time they hang out, and Jungkook doesn’t have it in himself to tell her that they, as a matter of fact, won’t see each other ever again. Not because she isn’t sweet – she’s just not what he wants. And he doesn’t even want the distraction.

He did that once, and it didn’t serve him good. Even if he managed to have you in the end.

“What’s your favourite game?” Emma asks as she stops next to some railing overlooking the water. She leans against it, forearms resting on it as she looks at the water, eyes following the ripples in the river.

“I don’t game as much anymore,” he admits. He shrugs, tries to ignore the way his lungs burn.

Because he used to game with you next to him, and he doesn’t need reminders of you.

“Mine is Valorant,” she says, and she smiles at him as if she expected that to make him happy.

“Oh,” he lets out. He offers her a tight-lipped smile, and feels bad when her face falls a little. So he quickly adds, “I took you more for a Sims girl.”

She fakes offense. “What? Why?”

There’s a twinkle in her eyes, and he’s struck silent as he watches it. She seems to take that as a cue for something else, because she takes a step closer to him, eyes dropping to his mouth.

He thinks he’s frozen on his spot when she tilts her head back, tiptoes, and presses a featherlike kiss on his lips. Eyes wide opened, he watches her, until he figures he should be kissing her back.

So he does, hesitantly, as lead forms in his stomach, making him think that he’s going to be sick. Because she kisses him all wrong. Tastes all wrong too, and suddenly you’re burning in his mind, bright magma that moves in his veins until pain suffocates his lungs.

He takes a step back, and Emma’s eyes shoot open, as if startled. They stare at each other for a time, and then she gulps.

“I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t care for her apology. Doesn’t care about anything other than the fact that he feels disgusted with himself. And for what? It’s not like he owes you anything anymore. As a matter of fact, he should be enjoying this. Should be enjoying that even though he was his most awkward self, he still was able to get the girl to kiss him.

Instead, he burns and he chokes on his saliva as he tries to swallow. He wonders why his vision is blurry, and he furiously blinks his eyes trying to keep Emma in focus.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats. “Gosh, I read this all wrong. I…” she pauses, shaking her head slightly, and it seems she’s been wearing a mask all evening, because it crumples into nothingness. “I just got out of a long relationship, Tae said you too and I just… Fuck I just assumed we could comfort each other?” When he remains silent, she continues, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

She’s rambling, and Jungkook just hears his blood pumping in his ears. When he still doesn’t speak, she apologizes once more, and then tells him that she should go.

He doesn’t try to stop her, doesn’t even look as she walks away, head hung low in what he assumes is shame. All he feels is the deep burning sensation, as it settles under his skin. Like a sunburn – he wants to scratch at it, wants to rip it from his skin, but he can’t.

He can’t because you’re gone, and this ache is all that’s left of you. It’s all that’s left, so he clings to it. Tries to keep it close to his heart, where you belong. Picks at the scab, at the wound, until he’s bleeding all over again, breaking out in the city, where anyone can see that he’s lost you.

He doesn’t know how he makes it home. All that he knows is that he’s in the shower, later, head pressed against the tiles as cold water runs on his back. It mingles with the tears streaking down his cheeks, mixes with the saltiness of heartbreak.

It doesn’t cool the sunburn ache, doesn’t ease the pain in his chest. And you’re everywhere then – in the cracks on the wall, he believes he can see you. Believes he can reach out for you, though what he ends up doing is cranking the temperature of the shower up, until it’s not cold anymore.

Though he reckons he barely can feel it anymore.

So he forces his eyes shut, chases memories of you like a dog chases its tail – round in round, in a circle, because he thinks he’ll always circle back to you anyway. He imagines you, in all your glory. Imagines you’ve never left, imagines you’d still run your hands on his back, still dig your nails in his skin.

He doesn’t even know how his hand finds its way to the base of his dick. Doesn’t even know why he’s horny, why the pain makes him crave you more. Why it makes him touch himself, imagining it’s your touch. And with his eyes squeezed shut, you’re everywhere. The goddess of the land of his mind, and he can almost believe you’re still here.

He grunts, perhaps in pain, and picks up the pace on his dick. He remembers words whispered on your skin, your spit on his dick as you’d swallow around the tip. He remembers your tight walls, clutching him, holding him in as you’d ride him like there was no tomorrow.

He remembers a hot tub and the night that followed, remembers breaking and healing with you. Remembers the darkness of the accident, and the light you’d shine on him. The light is gone now, and only darkness remains. It’s not the same – it’s lonelier, somehow. Because he had everything, and now remains nothing. Just the ghost of what once was, and he wishes he could be taken back to the night on the hotel rooftop, wishes you’d never left.

And when he comes, it’s your name that he moans. Like a blessing, though now you’re a curse. A curse to him, and he wishes the pain would go away, wishes it would stay. Wishes it would bring you back, yet knowing he’d push you away. Because he doesn’t think there is pain as great as what you caused him, and then he curses himself for the thought.

That night, he lies awake in sheets cold as winter, weakened by his broken heart as he chases sleep that never comes.

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ugh-yoongi · 9 months

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a yoongi soft thought i have been having recently: streamer!yoongs with an also streamer reader, they both work independently but the fans know about their relationship and love it so much! i was thinking about them deciding to do a stream together where the reader does his makeup and they talk to the public, very cliche very soft lol

hope you like the idea, luv your writing ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

omggg you have no idea how much i SQUEALED reading this message. thank u so much for sending it i am now overwhelmed with soft yoongi feels 😭

i have never actually watched a twitch stream??? so i hope i did this justice & you enjoy! <3

stream is starting

pairing: yoongi x reader (no pronouns used) genre: est. relationship, streamer au; fluff warnings: fluff overload. reader does yoongi's nails and makeup. they kiss a lot. idk what to say they're just very in love!! i don't think i said even ONE curse word in this that's how soft it is. unedited. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 1.6k listen to: carly rae jepsen - run away with me; jungkook - seven (nightfall mix)

It starts, as most things do with Yoongi, after a night out.

He’d gone out with Hoseok. Wanted to blow off some steam after a long week for both of them. You’d sent him off with a kiss, a text me if you need a ride that was met with an affectionate roll of his eyes, and finally a have fun, love you that he returned with a smile and a kiss to your forehead.

Now, it’s nearing two a.m., and you’re in bed with a facemask on, staring down at your phone.

Yoongi had sent you a picture. It’s blurry and unfocused, clearly taken on a whim, but those are undoubtedly Hoseok’s hands. You’d know those slender fingers anywhere, but it’s the nail art that tips you off. Each finger is painted black except for his pinkies, which are decorated with smiley face stickers, sealed with an extra-shiny clear coat. Beneath the photo, two texts from your boyfriend:

Is this hard to do They’re cute

You snort, typing out a quick reply.

No, it’s not hard Why, you want me to do your nails?

You expect him to say no. Not because of some toxic masculinity bullshit, he just does too much with his hands. Chip a nail playing guitar? The acetone would be out immediately. Smudge the polish? His pout would be overwhelming.

So you’re surprised, then, when he says yes; when he sends you a few pictures he plucked off of Pinterest, accompanied only with a half-dozen question marks.

Yeah, I can do that, you send him.

Even more surprising:

Maybe on stream? We haven’t done one together yet You can finally do my makeup too

You shouldn’t be surprised by the numbers, considering Yoongi has been hyping it up for weeks.

Kept posting teasers. Had a countdown timer on screen during his usual streams. Acted all coy and shy whenever his chat would ask him about it. Could barely swallow his smile when they demanded to know if you were finally making an appearance. Couldn’t hide the way his cheeks grew pink at all, and that tiny crumb was enough to send the internet into a frenzy.

So, no, you shouldn’t be surprised, but the view count on Yoongi’s screen seems too big to be real.

Yoongi is as shocked as you, but there’s pride simmering beneath the surface. Not once has he turned down an opportunity to show you off. Refuses to keep you hidden despite how private he insists on being otherwise. Doesn’t want you to feel like you’re a secret; wants everyone to know how much he adores you.

You’re certainly feeling adored now. “Does that say thirty thousand?”

“Sure does. Think you can perform under that kind of pressure?”

You snort. Pinch playfully at his side. Yoongi squeals, twists away from you, but he’s more serious when he comes back around. Reaches for you as he settles, hands on your hips, thumb brushing the warm skin beneath your sweatshirt. “Thanks for doing this with me,” he says, and you know Yoongi means it the same way you say I love you.

All you can do is smile, suddenly overwhelmed by how fond you are of him. How it feels like your heart grows three sizes every time he flashes you one of those gummy smiles of his own.

“Of course,” you say, because there’s only—“Five minutes. You ready?”

He pulls a face. Asks you to sit for a quick light test. Spends a few seconds fussing over it even though you think it looks fine. Makes sure all your supplies are organized and at the ready—you decided to let Yoongi’s stream decide all the colors and stickers, so there’s stuff everywhere, and you can see how stressed he is.

So you reach out, smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Relax, baby.”

He huffs. “I’m trying, it’s just—”

“You’ve done this a million times.”

“Yeah, by myself. Not with you. Not in front of… Jesus, there’s even more of them now.”

You roll your lips to hide the smile that’s creeping up. “C’mere,” you say, sliding your fingers through his belt loops. “Everything is going to be fine, okay? This is just for fun. Deep breaths.”

Yoongi listens. Closes his eyes, sucks in a breath. Holds it for a few seconds before he exhales, and it probably doesn’t do anything to dampen the buzz, but at least he looks glued back together. “I know.” Another inhale, another slow exhale. “I just want this to go well.”

“It will.”

He looks like he wants to argue. Push back on it. But Yoongi knows you just like you know him, and he trusts you implicitly. He wants to argue. Instead, he says, “Okay,” presses a soft kiss to your lips, and that’s the end of that.

“What color did they decide on?”

Admittedly, you might’ve gone overboard. Surely you didn’t need to bring over every eyeshadow palette you own, but you wanted options, and now those options are coming back to bite you in the rear. There are too many.

Yoongi huffs. “I don’t know. I can’t scroll through the chat because you made me put my hands in this ridiculous thing.”

“It’s a UV lamp. You don’t want your nails to chip, do you? After I just spent all that time and effort—”

“Okay, okay,” Yoongi relents, and a familiar blush creeps up his neck. Over his shoulder, you can see his chat explode with messages. “You see what I have to put up with?” he asks them.

“Yeah, it’s awful,” you agree, leaning in closer to the monitor. “Hi, guys. What color eye makeup should we do?” The chat erupts again. Messages come in faster than you can keep up with. “Wow, there are a lot of you. Of course I’m going to do eyeliner. Oh—I’m seeing a lot of requests for purple. That okay with you, babe?”

“Sure. Give the people what they want.”

With a smile, you pat his cheek with a gentle hand, cooing at him. “So accommodating. Isn’t he the best, chat?” Yoongi rolls his eyes, blush deepening. You think he’d hide behind his hands if they weren’t still drying. “Okay, nails are all done. Want to show them how they turned out?”

Like most things with Yoongi are, it’s easy.

He sits patiently while you prime his skin, commenting on how nice it is, and he makes small talk with his chat. Tells them how the two of you met, how disastrous your first date had been, how Yoongi thought he’d blown it for good. He’s told all of these stories before, but it still warms your heart to hear them again—to hear the way he speaks each word with such care, such affection.

“Show them how beautiful you look with your eye makeup done.”

He rolls his eyes, but does as you request anyway. Once again, the chat explodes, and the amount of emotes whirring by nearly makes you go crosseyed. COUPLE GOALS!!!! stands out amongst the chaos, and you know Yoongi has read it because another slow, gummy smile takes over his face.

You do his foundation next even though he doesn’t need any. Even though the chat demands he drop his skincare routine and he admits he doesn’t have one. “It is so unfair that you have this skin and can barely remember to moisturize.” You pretend to boo him. “God truly has favorites.”

“Yeah, you,” Yoongi says, and it’s so quick, so automatic, that it catches you off guard. Has you spraying the setting spray before you can tell him to close his eyes. “Aish, what was that—”

“Sorry!”

“I’m blind,” he wails. “You’ve blinded me!”

“I did not—”

But you’re up and off anyway, disappearing into the bathroom for a wet washcloth. You can hear Yoongi’s raspy laughter from the hall, know he’s not grievously injured and is just playing it up for laughs, and you don’t mind. Loving Yoongi means seeing all of his parts, and you know he’s got a darkness in him just like everyone else, that sometimes he finds it hard to escape it, so you want him to be this carefree and joyous always. Want to hear that laughter all the time.

You’re hovering in the doorway when he says, “Do you think this is what they meant when they said love is blind?”

And you’re… struck. You can feel how much Yoongi loves you in everything he does; can hear it in every word he says whenever he speaks about you. He handpicks each one, wraps it in the care it deserves. Not because they’re fragile, but because he wants to, and that kind of love feels a little overwhelming. Has you blinking back tears.

You’re not going to cry on stream, so you take a second to get yourself together before you walk back in the room. Say, “Are you done being dramatic yet?” because it’s easier to joke, and Yoongi shoots you a smile that says he knows.

“Of course,” he answers. “Please continue. The chat is patiently waiting to see the final product.”

You make a show of looking over his shoulder again, at pretending to read all the comments. You press a kiss to his temple just because you’re there. “Oh, they are, are they?”

One catches your eye: is anyone else painfully aware of how single they are rn.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #yoongi imagine #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #jewel writes

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sopebubbles · 4 months

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Lone Wolf final summary

Masterlist

Here is the little bit of closure I can offer you for this series. I'm really sorry I'm not able to finish this like I planned, but I'm really grateful for everyone who has taken this journey with me. I might come back to this au at some point, who knows, but this is it for now 😔

Hoseok is, in fact, pregnant. Yn could tell from his scent and decided to stay home to help him manage the pack house.

Yn gets arrested and charged for manslaughter. Jin and yn bond when he defends her as her attorney. He learns the rest of the details about her relationship with her former alphas, including the fact that she had actually been pregnant twice while with them, but lost the babies both times either bc she was too small to carry them or bc of abuse. She doesn't know for sure, but that's why she's so afraid of getting pregnant.

Yn is acquitted after a dramatic trial and able to return to the pack.

The remaining alphas officially start to court her.

The pack alphas all go into rut. In this universe, when one pack member starts, the others will be triggered, and yn also goes into heat, creating a really competitive environment. In this case, it's Namjoon that triggers the others. Jin makes protecting Hobi his main priority, but even he isn't able to just ignore YN. Fierce Yoongi, conflicted Jin, whiney tae and joon. Poor Jimin and Jungkook are just trying to make sure no one gets hurt. Poor babies.

After the rut, yn finally accepts them all as well as her place in the pack. Even Namjoon, after finding out what everyone means when they say he's just a puppy.

I'm not exactly sure how things would end but i really like the idea of them all going on like a big camping trip and just like going out and healing in nature 🥺

Sorry there isn't more. These are all the thoughts that are left in my airy little head for this AU.

Feel free to spam my inbox with asks about the characters or the universe or what ifs or any little brain rot about these characters, even tho my answers will probably be kinda short and slow. I really love them a lot and it sucks for me that i couldn't do them justice.

@lilacdreams-00 @wholockian1 @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie @hellokittiesxbae @pamzn @skyys-universe @nicholedobre-blog

@ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @zariaskz @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @coralmusicblaze @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @guinhosletters @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @moon-cupcakes @passionandsuga @zvrjkb @m0v3m3ntsblog @kykyxstandler @writingwithmai @moocow778 @ladyalicesbookstore @yoonseokerist @deejay08 @momoasenthusiasticreader @littlestarstinyseven @bittersweetbaylee

@im-sinking-in-mud @iloverubberduckiez-blog @someshinesomedont @kungsoonie @neverthefirstchoice @kameko-ko

#lone wolf thoughts #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #bts jin #bts x reader #bts fic #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts namjoon #bts hobi #bts a/b/o #sopebubbles 🧼

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shina913 · 6 months

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I wish you would write a fic where....reader is going to get a pedicure but her normal nail tech is out, and the owner's cute son (you pick the member) who's back in town volunteers to do reader's appointment. (hehehe)

Jess!!! I did it 🤣 I didn’t think I could but I actually had a lot of fun with this! Thank you for this ask. I hope I did it justice 💜

******

Self-Care Sunday | JJK

Pairing: NailTech!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Meet cute; fluff

Warnings: Some naughty thoughts but nothing explicit; slight references to gender stereotypes and occupations

Word count: 3k+words

Summary: You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.

A/N: Just for fun! Also, I was too impatient and wanted to actually post on a Sunday, which is why I didn’t have time to find a proper banner image for this. I’ll fix that tomorrow 😅 Thank you @midnightagust for your eyes 🥰 hope you all enjoy this!

Every weekend, you make a point to treat yourself to some form of pampering. Whether you went out to get your hair done or simply curled up on your couch to enjoy a book, ‘Self-Care Sunday’ was a big deal for you. It was a way to reset and prepare for the week ahead.

This weekend, you’re going for a mani-pedi. You walk into the nail salon about five minutes before your appointment time.

The small reception booth in front is empty, but the rest of the ladies who are busy with customers pause to greet you since you’re a regular. You begin to scan the room for your usual manicurist, hoping to check in and get set up.

Oddly, she’s nowhere in sight so you ask one of the ladies closest to you, who was giving a pedicure to another client.

“Annie just left. She said she was feeling sick,” she says to you.

“Oh no.” You look around again to see that everyone else is tending to their own clients. There’s no way any of these ladies would be able to take you on this morning. You’re disappointed but it’s not the end of the world. “I guess I could just reschedule my appointment–”

“No, hun, you don’t have to! It’s why she didn’t call to cancel. Our manager will take care of you.”

The salon’s manager, Lily, wasn’t afraid to jump in to help out whenever it was busy. It was a small comfort to know that the day wasn’t going to be a complete waste and you knew that you were in good hands.

The nail technician points to the vacant spa chair next to her and you help yourself. She pauses her work to fill the basin with warm water so you can soak your feet in while waiting for the manager.

“He’ll be right out, okay?” She says with a smile before turning back to her client.

Your eyebrows scrunch in curiosity. You could have sworn she said 'he,' but maybe you were hearing things. You dismiss the thought and activate the massage function on your chair, then start scrolling through your phone while waiting.

A few minutes later, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. As the figure settles on the low stool in front of you, you raise your head to greet them. Your voice gets caught in your throat when you realize that it isn't Lily.

"Hi!"

You’re stunned at the sight of a man sitting in front of you. He looks young and devastatingly hot. You would never expect to see someone who looked like him at a nail salon, let alone working at one. His big, round, beautiful eyes make you want to melt into the water your feet were soaking in.

“Uhm…h-hi,” you choke out once your brain lurches back to life. “I thought the manager was going to do my mani-pedi.”

He grins proudly, spreading a towel on the footrest of the spa chair. "Yep! You're looking at him!"

You feel confused. Did Lily quit or hire someone new? It’s been three weeks since your last appointment. In the background, you hear the other nail technicians giggling amongst themselves.

Seeing the worried look on your face, he explains, "My mom is taking a break, so I'm filling in for her."

You vaguely remember Lily mentioning her children in passing. Since she looks relatively young for her age, she’s always said that people are shocked to hear when she tells them that she has a grown son.

Well, consider yourself shaken to the core.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way," he extends his hand towards you. You're both baffled and overwhelmed by how handsome he looks. The massage chair's tapping setting propels you forward, snapping you out of your daze.

You reach forward to shake his hand and introduce yourself. Although he has a firm grip, his hands are surprisingly soft, sending a chill down your spine.

“When Annie said that she wasn’t feeling well, I offered to take the rest of her appointments for the day,” he divulges.

You look at him skeptically. You’ve never received a manicure and pedicure from a male technician before—especially not from one who was this cute.

He chuckles. "I know, I know. You're probably thinking, 'Does this guy even know what the hell he's doing?' Well, let me assure you that my mom personally trained me. If she's ever worked on you, you can expect the same level of quality from me. But I understand if you feel uneasy. The last thing I want is for a client to feel that way.”

You’re still apprehensive but he sounds confident. You get a grip and nod, giving him consent to continue with the appointment.

“Thanks,” he says softly and with a look of relief. “You booked a deluxe pedicure and manicure, right?”

The deluxe mani-pedi comes with a longer-than-usual massage on your hands and feet. Thinking about this man's hands kneading your tired muscles makes you sweat.

“Y-yes, I did,” you nervously confirm.

He nods in acknowledgment, and you gulp as he begins to dip the pumice sponge into the basin to scrub your heels. He’s careful and gentle with each pass, totally unlike what you’ve been used to. It’s a stark contrast to these ladies, who have manhandled you in surprising ways—especially the petite, older techs. They’re still sweet, though, and they do a great job, but you admit that this is a nice change of pace.

The rest of your pedicure prep goes smoothly until it was time for the massage.

He drains the water from the basin then he props your feet on the footrest. The stool is too low for his frame but he doesn’t complain. He’d rather make the adjustment so you wouldn’t have to bend awkwardly from your seat.

After drying your feet with a towel, he squeezes some lotion into his hands and starts massaging it into your calf muscles. Typically, some ladies prefer to keep their gloves on for sanitary purposes, but Jungkook has taken off his gloves just before the massage. You figured he was the manager on duty, so he could do whatever he wanted. And not that you had any objections, as the skin-on-skin contact feels nice. Better, actually.

You don't know why, but your gaze is drawn to his thighs, which are spread widely in front of you. It's incredibly distracting and you struggle to look away. You wonder if the awkward positioning of his knees against the spa chair is causing him to sit like that, or if there is something else between his legs that he's trying to adjust for.

“Is the pressure okay?” His question pulls you back into reality.

"What? Oh, yeah. It's good. It's fine," you manage to cobble together. His touch is firm, yet gentle enough to be relaxing. Silently, you think, if he was this good with your legs, how would his hands feel on the rest of your body?

"Are you sure? I could apply more, if you prefer. I always try to start off slow, but I can go deeper, depending on how you like it."

You grip the chair's armrests in response as your mouth goes dry. "N-no, you don’t need to go deeper. What you're doing is...great.” Your voice comes out breathy, but in an effort to distract yourself, you dig your phone out of your purse and start randomly scrolling through your social media feed. Now was not the time to be getting horny over your nail technician.

He suppresses a smile at your response. "Okay then.”

******

You manage to survive the rest of the pedicure without any additional incidents, much to your relief. He slips your sandals back onto your feet with ease, without smudging your freshly painted toes, and helps you over to the manicure table.

Once you settle in your seat, you rest your hands on the cushion and dip them into a cuticle-softening solution while he sets up the rest of his tools. While waiting for your fingers to soak up the solution, he checks in with you.

“Can I get you anything while you wait?”

“I’m good right now, thanks.”

"Okay.” Then, he leans in, lowers his voice, and asks, “How do you think I’m doing so far?"

You smile warmly at him. "I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised." Your toes didn't look streaky, nor did he get polish on your skin. You were impressed!

Your response makes him smile from ear to ear, his nose crinkling in amusement.

"Thanks. I know most women think it's weird to get a mani-pedi from a dude."

You sigh and decide to fess up. He seemed self-aware and appreciated honesty. "Well, I have to be honest—I was definitely apprehensive at first," you admit then follow it with a shrug. "But then I thought, hey, it's a job. If you can do it and have the skills for it? Why not? It shouldn't be restricted by gender."

His brow arches at your remark. "My thoughts exactly!" He agrees emphatically.

You feel another spark of electricity surge through you as he lifts your hand. You watch as he examines your fingers under the light.

“Mm…nice, long, nail beds.” His compliment followed but his thumb brushing over your fingers makes your belly flutter.

“But I bet you probably get that a lot,” he adds with a laugh.

“Not as often as you think,” you say. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was coming onto you.

“Just a regular manicure, right? Not gel?”

“Yeah. I thought, if I got the gel, I can’t get the usual hand massage—”

“I can still give you the massage,” he interjects.

“Oh. But what about the oils? I thought it’s not good for the gel base?” You hesitate.

He shrugs as if it's a non-factor. "I can do the massage after I cure your nails under the light. That way, the polish adheres nicely and it’ll be all set. But if you still prefer a regular manicure, that's fine—we’ll do that. I just want you to know that you have the option," he assures you.

You purse your lips to think for a few seconds. “Well, if you’re sure the massage won’t mess with the gel—”

“It won’t, I promise!” He says confidently. “My mom’s old school and she’d never do it that way but I think that you can still make it work.” After he says it out loud, one of the female technicians next to him scoffs. Seems like she prefers the standard method, too.

Jungkook rolls his eyes subtly at her reaction and turns his attention back to you. “If you don’t like it, I’ll give you your money back.”

That sounded fair to you.

“Alright. I trust you.”

After you decide on gel polish colors, he begins to trim your cuticles and file your nails. But just when you thought you could easily survive the pedicure, him being this close, and at eye-level, was going to be an uphill battle. He looks so focused and precise in his movements; it’s relaxing to watch. Even the little pout he does while maneuvering your finger to apply the polish with the utmost precision to cover every surface of your nail is cute.

You make small talk while he works. Not the usual gossip that you’re used to with the female technicians. You feel comfortable around him but not enough to spill all of your secrets.

“So, are you doing this full-time?”

“No,” he answers before he guides your hand into the curing lamp. “I have a day job but I mostly work from home. My mom said that needed help and I didn’t hesitate to step up. She works very hard.”

Oh no…he’s not only cute but he also loves his mom. You can’t help but feel endeared. You also note that he doesn’t have a ring on his finger. Lily hasn’t mentioned any daughters-in-law, that you recall.

You decide to sound casual to break the tension a bit. “This job must be a great way to pick up women, too, huh?”

He pauses before meeting your gaze. The corner of his mouth curves into a cocky smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your cheeks heat up. You immediately realize that your comment may have crossed a line, thinking you were at that level of comfort with him just because he touched your bare feet. You kick yourself internally for being presumptuous.

“S-sorry,” you shyly tear your eyes away from him. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

He brushes off the exchange. “It’s cool. Honestly, there aren’t many women falling over themselves to go out with a male nail technician,” he says in jest. “Some people have specific perceptions. They’re usually wrong but I don’t bother to correct them.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel bad as you’d made assumptions about him too. “I mean, I think you have a lot of patience to be working on nails. Not to mention that you’re a handsome guy who gives great foot massages. I don’t see why any woman wouldn’t want to get more of that.” You catch yourself too late when you realize what you’ve just said.

He snorts your comment but doesn’t pile on it. “You’d think, right?”

You clear your throat and attempt to recover. “Well, you’re also easy to talk to. You keep the conversation flowing.” Your voice is still tight, embarrassed from your ‘cute guy who gives great foot massages’ comment.

“I appreciate that,” he smiles. He examines your nails, one last time, running the pads of his fingers over the polish to make sure that it has set properly. When he’s satisfied, he says, “Looks good. I’ll be right back, okay? Then we can get to your hand massage.” He excuses himself and gathers his tools to soak them in a cleaning solution.

When he walks away and disappears into the back room, you release a breath you seemed to be holding in for far too long. You’d never been this wound up during a mani-pedi.

A few minutes later, he returns and sets a warm towel down. He then moves the magnifying lamp out of the way, giving you a complete and unobstructed view of him. Unfortunately, this doesn't bode well for you.

“So, do you have any plans after this?” He asks casually while massaging circles into your forearms.

You’re all flustered again. “Not much. Maybe I’ll grab some mid-day coffee or something then head home.”

“Nice. Where do you grab coffee?” The feel of him dragging the pads of his fingers on your slicked skin, couple with his piercing gaze are causing your breathing to go ragged again. Suddenly, your brain blanks out on where your favorite coffee spot is.

“Just, uhm—” you struggle to pull the name out of your memory at first but manage to blurt it out when he squeezes your fingers. “It’s not far from here.”

“Oh. I don’t live in this neighborhood so I’m not familiar.” His thumb and forefinger knead your muscles in a way that should normally not feel arousing to you, but it does. And you can’t help when your thoughts slide back into wondering what else those magic fingers can do.

“I figured, if I was going to be helping out here more, maybe I should get to know the area– especially places to eat. You think you can you give me directions to the cafe?”

You shift in your seat. “Well, it’s sort of a hole-in-the-wall place. The GPS is kind of spotty on it. You have to be a local to really know where it’s at.”

“Well, my break’s coming up after this. Maybe we can drive together?”

It takes a couple of seconds for you to realize it. He's not stupid, and you were right – he's definitely self-aware. He knows that you're affected by him. Smiling to yourself, you’re happy to let him know that the feeling is mutual.

Your eyebrows twitch at how forward he’s being. “A break? But it’s only 11:30?” You laugh.

“What can I say? I think I worked you really hard–”

His response makes your eyes bulge and causes your jaw to drop.

“Oh, sorry–I meant to say, you worked me really hard.”

You throw your head back in laughter, and it makes him laugh out loud, too. He was a cocky little shit but you’re not mad at it.

When your laughs die down, he says, “I think we can both agree that we did our best to fight this–” he gestures at the space between you two.

“Oh, is that right?” You ask playfully.

"Yeah. I think we deserve a little treat. Maybe grab some lunch, wherever you want." You’re mildly aware that the massage is over but his fingers are still lingering on your hands while he patiently waits for your answer.

This is one of the most unusual ways you've been asked out, but there's a first time for everything. After thinking it over, you decide to give it a chance. "Okay. But if I agree to go to lunch with you, do I still need to tip you for the mani-pedi?”

He purses his lips in thought for a few seconds before countering. "Tell you what—if you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night, the service is on the house. We can call it even then.”

His playful proposition catches you off guard but it also intrigues you. Again, you find yourself unable to resist his charm.

“Alright.”

Your response makes him smile full-on and it’s infectious, so you can’t help but smile back. He starts to clean up his station, then turns to the older nail technician next to him who saw the whole situation unfold.

“Auntie, please don’t tell my mom,” he whispers mischievously, causing her to laugh after she agrees not to rat him out.

You giggle at his request and tell him, “I guess I’ll meet you out front whenever you’re ready?”

“Sounds good. We’ll take my car so we don’t ruin my masterpiece there,” he points at your hands.

You laugh at his retort and shake your head. Never in a million years did you ever think that you’d find a date a the nail salon. It’s one of the better things to come out of your Self-Care Sundays.

Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines #bts fanfiction #shina asks

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cr-komi · 4 months

Text

"All's Fair in Love and War"

Summary: You harbored a deep hatred for Jeon Jungkook, your new roommate at Skyline View Apartments. Despite his outward kindness, the constant noise of his nightly activities with different partners fueled your resentment. Envious and frustrated, you couldn't help but wonder if he truly made those women feel as good as they sounded.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6,061

Warnings: Swearing, angst, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), multiple orgasms

Authors Note: This is not proofread. I hope you all enjoy this story, it was fun to write but this is also my first time writing something like this so please be kind!

You hated Jeon Jungkook with every bone in your body.

When given this information, one might ask why you despise a man who has been nothing but nice to you since you became his new roommate at the newly built, Skyline View Apartments, although those who wondered about your dislike for him never had to hear him fucking the daylights of a new girl every single night.

You resented Jeon Jungkook so deeply that it had become an obsession. Day in and day out, the melodic moans and rhythmic thumping from his bedroom invaded your peace, a constant reminder of his promiscuity and your own solitude. Each passionate encounter was like a dagger piercing through the thin walls, leaving you seething with envy and frustration.

I mean, honestly, could he really make all those women feel that good?

---

The apartment was a patchwork of sunlight and shadows, dust motes dancing like tiny fairies in the afternoon glow streaming through the half-closed blinds. You sat on the edge of the secondhand couch that had seen better days, fidgeting with your phone as you checked the time once more.

"Any minute now," You whispered to yourself, the words lost in the quiet expanse of the room.

Your gaze flitted over the ad you'd posted online – 'Roommate Wanted: must be clean, quiet, and okay with late-night baking sessions.' The rent, unyielding in its monthly appearance, had become a specter haunting your bank account. Sharing your space wasn't ideal, but neither was the idea of moving back home to two unsupportive, narcissistic parents.

A knock at the door jolted you from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, smoothing down your shirt as if the gesture could iron out your nerves.

You opened the door to reveal a young man with a bright smile and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Jungkook?" You asked tentatively.

"That's me, you must be Y/N," he replied, his voice carrying the warmth of a summer breeze. "I hope I'm not too early or anything."

"Right on time, actually." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. "Welcome to what might be your new home, I guess."

"Thank you," Jungkook said, stepping past the threshold. He surveyed the room with an appreciative nod. "You've got a great place here. The ad didn't do it justice."

"Photography isn't really my strong suit," You admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Jungkook set his duffel down, careful not to disturb the arrangement of magazines on the coffee table. "I'm pretty easy-going. As long as I have somewhere to sleep and cook some simple meals, I'm set."

"Ah, you cook?" You perked up, interest piqued. "That's definitely a point in your favor."

"Nothing too fancy," Jungkook confessed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "But I can manage well enough not to starve."

You laughed, the sound more relaxed than you felt. "I tend to bake when I'm stressed. So, between your cooking and my baking, we might not be the healthiest household."

"Sounds perfect to me," Jungkook grinned.

"Listen," you started, suddenly serious, "I really need someone to split the rent with. And you seem nice enough. But are you sure you're okay with the rules? My work schedule is kind of erratic, and I need quiet to focus when I'm at home."

"Totally understand," Jungkook assured you.

"I keep odd hours myself sometimes. For the record, I'm clean and respectful of shared spaces. I would want the same if the roles were reversed."

"Guess it's settled then." You extended her hand, feeling the strange mix of relief and trepidation churn within you. "You're welcome to be my roommate, as long as you want to."

"Well I wouldn't be here if I wasn't interested, now, would I?" Jungkook replied, his handshake firm and reassuring.

You nodded, laughing quietly, "I guess you're right. Let me show you around."

---

As the days turned into weeks, your initial reservations about Jeon Jungkook began to dissipate. Contrary to the image you had built up in your mind, he turned out to be an ideal roommate. He was considerate, always cleaning up after himself, and never complained about your late-night baking sessions that sometimes left the kitchen a mess. He was quiet and respectful of your space.

You found yourself growing closer to him, drawn in by his infectious laughter and the genuine interest he showed in your life. It was as if a friendship had blossomed from the ashes of animosity. You began sharing meals together, chatting about everything from work to your dreams for the future. For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone.

That is, until about two weeks ago when Jungkook started banging every girl that he found within a 5 mile radius.

---

The clock struck midnight, and you lay in your bed, the moonlight casting ghostly shadows across your room.

You had been trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but the hope of rest was dashed each time a new wave of noise crashed through the walls from Jungkook’s side of the apartment.

"Ugh, not again..." you muttered under your breath, pulling the pillow over your ears as if it could shield you from the cacophony next door.

A rhythmic thumping against the shared wall set a maddening tempo, accompanied by the high-pitched squeal of bedsprings in protest.

You could hear Jungkook's voice, a melodic baritone, now moaning without any hint of restraint or concern for his roommate.

"Seriously, does he have to be so loud?" You grumbled, annoyance simmering as you kicked off your tangled sheets.

It wasn't just the volume; it was the frequency. This had become an all too familiar soundtrack to your nights, and with every encounter audible through the paper-thin walls, your patience wore thinner.

"God, do they ever get tired?" The thought came unbidden, as you sat up, clenching your fists in frustration.

You paced back and forth, considering banging on the wall or maybe even screaming into your pillow. Each stifled cry and laugh from the other side felt like an invasion of your already cramped personal space.

"Okay, think... headphones. Where are my headphones?" You whispered to yourself, fumbling through your nightstand drawer in desperation.

Stressed and sleep deprived, you froze with a sudden realization: your headphones were in Jungkook's room.

You mentally cursed yourself for leaving them there, how could you be so damn forgetful?

"Are you fucking serious?" You groaned, mentally debating on whether you should interrupt Jungkook's late-night escapade or not.

"Tomorrow," you vowed silently, "I'm buying earplugs. Or soundproofing. Or moving to the moon."

As the seconds dragged on, punctuated by the occasional 'Yes!' and 'Right there!' from next door, your initial irritation gave way to a begrudging resignation. You knew this wouldn't be the last night spent battling for sleep against the symphony of Jungkook's indiscretions.

"It's now or never, Y/N. Just get it over with."

Summoning a newfound resolve, you rose from your bed and marched determinedly towards Jungkook's room. The hallway was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a cracked doorway that spilled out a warm, amber glow.

With every step, your anger fueling your actions, you were prepared to confront him about the disruption he was causing.

Clenching your fists tightly, you hesitated for a brief moment before knocking forcefully on his door.

The sounds from within abruptly ceased, replaced by an eerie silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Your heart raced in anticipation as you waited for a response. After what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open slowly, revealing a disheveled Jungkook standing on the other side, bare chested with a sheet hanging loosely around his waist. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, clearly caught off guard.

As you stood at the threshold of his room, you were met with clothes strewn across the floor. The air was heavy with the scent of passion, mixing with a tinge of regret that hung in the air like an unanswered question.

"What the hell do you want, Y/N? Can't you see I'm busy?"

He gestured with his hand towards the inner parts of his room revealing a girl who seemed to be about your age, wide eyed and clearly uncomfortable with the situation that was playing out before her.

Your anger flared, the frustration of sleepless nights fueling your words. "I want some peace and quiet, Jungkook! This is not the first time this has happened, and I'm tired of being subjected to your...activities." You couldn't help but glare at the girl, her presence only amplifying your annoyance. "And who is she? Another one of your conquests?"

Jungkook's expression hardened, a mixture of annoyance and frustration crossing his features,"Y/N, you shouldn't come barging in like this! The stuff that I do in my time is none of your fucking business. And besides, we were just catching up."

"Catching up?" Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Is that what you call it? Because I've heard more than enough catching up these past few weeks."

The girl let out a whimper, her eyes wide with fear, as if she was suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation.

Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair. Turning to the girl tangled in the covers he stared with apologetic eyes, "Look maybe you should just leave for now. We can finish what we started another time, yeah?"

The girl nodded, hastily gathering her clothes and making a beeline for the door, completely avoiding your gaze.

With a scoff, you turned your attention back to Jungkook, taking in his frustrated expression, "There, are you happy now? She's gone."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his voice low and controlled. "You know, Y/N, you don't have to be so judgmental. Just because my lifestyle doesn't align with yours doesn't give you the right to invade my privacy and shame me for it."

Your anger flared even hotter at his words. "Invade your privacy? You've been invading mine, night after night! This is my home too, Jungkook. I deserve some peace and quiet."

He scoffed, crossing his arms defiantly. "And what about the peace and quiet I deserve? What if I told you that you're not the easiest person to live with either?"

The words stung, but you refused to back down. "I'm not the easiest person to live with!? That's bullshit! This is my apartment, or did you forget?"

He shook his head, frustrated by your accusations. "You act as if this place belongs only to you. Don't forget, Y/N, we agreed to this living arrangement equally. I have just as much right to live here as you do."

You threw your hands in the air, frustration finally starting to boil over, "Of course you fucking do! I don't care whether you have sex or not, or with who for that matter! I just wish you could be a little quieter. Is that too much to ask for?"

Jungkook laughed harshly, "If you don't care who I fuck or when I do it, then why are you standing outside my door right now, getting mad at me for that exact reason?"

If murder wasn't illegal, you would strangle Jeon Jungkook with your bare hands right fucking now, no regrets.

But instead of giving in to the violent urge that bubbled within you, you took a step back, trying to regain your composure. It was clear that this argument was going nowhere, and you knew that escalating the situation further would only make matters worse.

"I came here to address the noise issue, Jungkook," you said through gritted teeth, your voice strained with frustration. "I've been struggling to sleep because of the constant disruptions, and I wanted to talk it out like adults. But clearly, that's not possible."

Jungkook scoffed, "Are you saying I'm not mature enough to handle this situation?"

Oh fuck, someone should restrain you before things get violent.

"What?? When did I say th--" You paused for a moment, thinking before allowing a sly smile to spread across your features, "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You think you're so high and mighty, don't you? Always acting like you're better than everyone else," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

You smirked, the tension between the two of you crackling in the air. "Well, at least I have some self-control. Unlike you, who can't seem to keep it in your pants long enough for me to get a good night's sleep."

His face flushed red, a mixture of embarrassment and rage contorting his features. "You don't know anything about me."

"Oh please," you scoffed. "Enlighten me then, Jeon Jungkook. I'd love to hear your story that justifies keeping the whole apartment complex awake every damn night."

Jungkook's jaw clenched, and you could see the anger flickering in his gaze. But instead of retaliating with harsh words or escalating the tension further, he surprised you by exhaling slowly, seemingly calming himself down before suddenly leaning in close enough that you could feel his warm breath fanning across your face.

"Are you sure you're angry because it's too loud for you to sleep?" He whispered, a devilish smirk etched into his features, "are you sure it's not just because you're jealous?"

"Jealous?" You sputtered, taken aback by his change in demeanor, "of what? Of the fact that you're fucking every girl and their mother?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, "Do you want some of the action, Y/N? Do you want me to fuck you so good you see stars?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at Jungkook, his words hanging in the air between you, the tension between the two of you reaching its peak. A part of you was shocked, but another part was aroused by his audacity.

"What the hell are you suggesting?" You hissed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You really think I'd let you do that to me?"

Jungkook smirked, a predatory gleam flaring up in his eyes. "Don't tell me you're not curious. You've seen me with other girls, you've heard the noises... do you ever wonder what it's like for them? To be in my arms, to be with me?"

Your breath hitched as you processed his words. Was this really happening? Was he really saying these things to you?

"You know, Y/N, you keep complaining about all the girls I've brought home these past few weeks, but you've never once stopped to ask me why."

"Because you have the same sex drive as a horny teenager?" You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

He took a step closer, his body language commanding your attention, "I was home that night." He whispered, eyes sparkling at your retort, a twinkle of mischief in his gaze.

"W-what do you mean? Which night?"

Jungkook's voice lowered, dangerous and seductive, "The night you came home with Taehyung."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," You stammered, feeling your body heat up as his gaze lingered on you.

Jungkook's smirk widened, "Oh, I think you do, Y/N. You came home that night, tipsy and flushed, your hair still wet from the rain that had been pounding on the windows."

You laughed nervously, trying to act innocent despite the fact that you knew exactly what he was talking about, "What...what do you mean?"

"I heard every noise you made that night, Y/N. Every cry, every scream, every moan, every whimper."

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl, "And I watched you. I watched you give yourself to that boy, your eyes closed tight, your body arching back and forth in rhythmic motions. I saw every flush of color, every quiver of your lips, your nails digging into his back as you came undone."

You froze. If you had known Jungkook was home that day, there was no way in hell you would have left the door open as Taehyung fucked you into oblivion. At least...that's what you want Jungkook to think.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You wanted to deny it, to push him away, but at the same time, a part of you was yearning for more.

"Jungkook what are you--"

You couldn't finish your sentence before he was upon you, his mouth devouring yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.

You knew you should stop him, that you should push him away, but the arousal that Jungkook had stirred within you overcame any rational thought. You moaned into his mouth, your body arching into his, desire and want consuming your whole being.

He gently pushed you against the wall, his body caging yours in. Your lips met in a passionate collision that sent sparks flying between the two of you. Jungkook's tongue darted out to taste you, delving deep into your mouth with a groan. You welcomed him eagerly, your hands running through his messy hair before moving to his back, nails scratching lightly against his skin, leaving trails of desire.

He pulled away for a moment to run his nose along your jaw, inhaling deeply. To him, you tasted like cherry lip-gloss and wine, and Jungkook loved it. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on it softly before whispering hoarsely against it, "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted this. How long I've wanted you."

His hands slid down your body, caressing your curves, making their way to your hips.

He lifted you up just enough that you wrapped your legs around his waist, arching into him.

Jungkook's free hand found its way under your shirt, tracing circles on your stomach before working its way up to cup your breast.

You moaned into the kiss, your head spinning from the mix of emotions coursing through your body. You've never been this intoxicated by someone before.

The scent of his cologne filled your senses, making you dizzy with want and need. You pressed your body against his hard length, feeling him stir against you. Your heart skipped a beat at his arousal, and in that moment you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

You pulled away from the kiss, gasping for air as you looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Take me to your room." Your voice came out husky, a mere whisper.

Jungkook didn't need to be asked twice, pulling you closer towards his room. As the two of you moved, he nipped at your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm in his arms.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, the sound of your passionate breathing filling the air. His room is only a few steps away, and he stumbled through the door, out of breath.

The two of you tumbled onto the bed together, your bodies entwined in a sea of need.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," he murmured against your skin before kissing his way down your neck towards your clothed breasts. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of your softness as his mouth traced a trail of fire across your collarbone. Your bodies moved together sensuously, practically in unison.

You paused for a moment, looking down at the obvious erection he was sporting beneath the sheet that was somehow still wrapped around his waist.

You could feel the warmth of Jungkook's body as you sat next to him, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with his breaths.

You couldn't resist the temptation any longer; You reached your hand out to touch the bulge in the sheet that covered his waist. Boldly, You slid your fingers over the fabric, teasing him as you dragged the seets downwards to reveal a hard, hot shaft.

Jungkook groaned softly, his eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your hand around it, encasing it within your warm, soft palm. It twitched in response, pulsing slightly under your touch.

Jungkook moaned softly, his lips parting as he watched your every move, hunger burning in his eyes. You had never felt so powerful before, so in control.

"You're going to drive me crazy, Y/N." Jungkook whispered, a hint of warning in his voice.

You grinned, happy to have succeeded in your goal, "But you know I love pushing buttons." you replied, voice thick with desire.

"Keep going." His voice was ragged, broken. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, guiding your hand up and down his length. The fabric of the sheet brushed against your knuckles as it lay draped against his thighs.

You began to stroke him in sync with his movements, your breath hitching slightly at the feel of him. You took in the scent of his skin, warm and slightly salty with arousal, and the sound of your entwined fingers rubbing against the sheet, rustling softly.

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his neck as you continued to stroke him. His skin was warm against your mouth, and you savored the taste of his sweat.

You nipped at his earlobe, delighting in the way he shivered beneath your touch. "Jungkook, can I suck your dick? Please?" You asked, your tongue dancing along his jawline.

He nodded against your lips, his hips bucking slightly, seeking more contact. You slid your other hand down to caress his balls, gently cupping them in your palm. They were heavy and full, and you couldn't help but wonder what they'd feel like in your hand when they were covered in your juices. The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through your core, and you found yourself growing wetter and wetter by the minute.

"Y/N..." he moaned, his voice hoarse. "Please..."

You slipped the sheet away from him to allow yourself better access, quickly falling to your knees in front of him, and boy, did Jungkook love the sight.

You marvelled at the size of his cock, large and thick, glistening with pre-cum. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you wrapped your lips around the head, feeling his warm skin against your tongue.

Jungkook moaned deeply at the sensation, his fingers tangling in your hair as he felt the hot wetness envelop him. You licked and nuzzled the underside of his shaft with your tongue, teasing the sensitive skin with each flick before taking more of him in your mouth. You pulled back slowly, the head of Jungkook's cock slipping from your lips with an audible sucking sound, and then slid back down, taking him to the root with a loud gulp. Jungkook's hips bucked up off the mattress involuntarily, craving more.

You hummed in approval, cheeks hollowing as you bobbed your head up and down, creating a rhythm that sent shivers down Jungkook's spine. You cupped one of Jungkook's balls in your hand, massaging gently as you continued to deep throat him. Jungkook's taste exploded on your tongue, filling the room with a musky scent that made the both of you shudder. Each time you withdrew, you flicked the sensitive tip with his tongue, driving Jungkook insane with lust.

"Fuck baby...just like that." He moaned, threading his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer to him.

Jungkook's muscles tensed under your touch, his thighs trembling with the effort to hold still. He felt himself growing closer to his peak, his cock throbbing in your mouth. The sounds of your breathing grew louder, faster, and the room was filled with wet, slurping noises as you sucked harder. His eyes fluttered open when he felt your teeth graze against the sensitive skin at the base of his cock, and he cried out, arching into the touch.

"Ahh, shit, that mouth feels so good.”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a smirk gracing your lips. "Like that?" You asked, voice rough with desire.

Jungkook nodded, unable to form words as his body was consumed by pleasure. He reached down to stroke your hair, feeling the silky strands between his fingers as you moved faster, taking more of him into your mouth. Jungkook's hips bucked wildly now, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head. He could feel the familiar tingle spreading through his body, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Fuck, I'm gonna-- shit, I'm close."

With one final thrust forward, Jungkook came, his release hot and thick in your mouth. He groaned loudly, almost giving out as he lost control.

You welcomed every drop, swallowing greedily as you continued to stroke Jungkook's length.

The room fell into silence, the only sound being their ragged breathing. Eventually, you pulled away, a satisfied smile on you face.

"That was amazing," Jungkook whispered, his cheeks flushed with arousal.

You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His hands cupped the back of your head, holding you close as you tasted your own handiwork. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you whispered, your voice still thick with desire.

Jungkook nodded before fiddling with the hem of your shorts, "Let me make you feel good too, Y/N. I wanna taste you."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he began to run his fingers up and down your thighs, his touch sending shivers coursing through your body.

"Jungkook, I'm all yours," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his as he continued to explore your body.

He smiled softly before slowly kissing his way up your inner thigh, his tongue tracing a path that sent a rush of excitement coursing through your body. He paused for a moment, his knees brushing against your legs as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire.

"Just tell me what you want, babe," he rasped, his voice low and full of lust.

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. You had never felt this exposed before, never this vulnerable. But you knew that this was what you wanted, this connection with him, and you trusted him implicitly.

"I-I want you, Jungkook. Please, just touch me."

Jungkook nodded moving himself slightly have have better access to your dripping pussy.

Smiling, he slowly pulled your shorts down your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to him.

You part your legs slightly, inviting him in as he pressed his lips to you slit, exploring with soft little licks and kisses. His warm breath bathed you sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh fuck..." You let out, arching your back slightly into his touch.

His tongue dove in, tracing your folds and flicking against your clit, lapping at your juices like a hungry animal. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily as he began to suck on your sensitive bud, drawing out a moan from the depths of your throat. "Jungkook..." you panted, gripping onto his hair tightly. He sucked harder, pulling on your clit between his teeth, and you gasped, feeling your whole body tense up.

"You taste so good," he mumbled against your entrance, tongue darting around inside of you.

To him, you tasted both sweet and salty, driving him wild.

Your breath hitched as he started thrusting his tongue in and out, in sync with his fingers that are now rubbing your entrance. His other hand squeezed your ass cheek, pulling you closer, and you whimpered, unable to focus on anything but the sensations coursing through you. Each thrust of his tongue hit your G-spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core.

"Fuck, Jungkook," you cried out, throwing your head back, hair falling in front of your face as you lost control.

You tried to push him away, needing a moment to catch your breath, but he didn't budge. His tongue pushed deeper, exploring every inch of you, and you can't help but whimper

"I'm so close!" You warned, voice thin and breaking.

Jungkook smirked, feeling a sense of power in being able to bring you this close so quickly. He quickened his pace, his tongue flicking and thrusting inside of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips bucked wildly, your back arched, and you cried out, your whole body trembling with pleasure.

When you could finally take no more, you cried out his name, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your orgasm gripping his tongue and clenching around him. Jungkook continued to lick and suckle at your sensitive folds, drawing out every last drop of pleasure that he could, until you finally collapsed back down onto the bed, spent and breathless.

He gently pulled away, giving you space to recover, his own breath coming out ragged as he stared down at you, awe written across his face.

"Y/N. That was incredible. You're incredible." He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his hand reaching up to stroke your hair.

You leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, "I want you inside of me, Jungkook. Please."

"But...don't you want to take a break?" He asked, concern clear in his voice as he looked into your eyes. You smiled softly, understanding the concern behind his words.

"No. Please, Jungkook, I need you."

"Fuck..." He lowered his head and you found his dick, hard again after eating you out.

You gave him a few swift strokes, eliciting a moan followed by a string of curses.

You guided him towards your entrance, slowly opening your legs to expose yourself to him. You wanted him, needed him, and began taking him in slowly, inch by inch.

A low growl escaped his throat as you enveloped him fully, the two of you moving in perfect sync. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you closer, deeper.

"Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good," he groaned, chest heaving.

Jungkook thrust into you with a steady rhythm. His hips slapping against your ass as the two of you moaned in unison. The bed creaked with your movements, filling the air with an erotic melody. Your nails dug into Jungkook's back, leaving red marks visible against his perfect skin. He growled, biting down on your neck as he lifted you up and slammed you down onto him with more force. Your breasts swayed with each movement of his hips, nipples hardening against his chest.

"You feel so damn good," he growled, his hips bucking faster with each thrust, his eyes never leaving yours.

You moaned softly, meeting his thrusts with fervor. His breaths came out ragged, panting as he continued to move inside of you.

Your bodies moved together in perfect sync as he pinned you down, not wanting to lose the feeling of being this close to you. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss that left you gasping for air.

To him, you tasted of both of your combined sweat and his essence as he nipped at your bottom lip before devouring it once more.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, urging him to go deeper. He groaned into the kiss and complied, slamming into you harder as he felt your inner walls clench around him.

"Fuck," he muttered against your lips, the word lingering there as you both pulled apart to gasp for air. "You're so fucking perfect, Y/N." He slammed into you again, his pace quickening as he lost control. His fingers dug into your hips, marking your flesh with his nails.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, echoing in the silence. Your head hit the headboard with every powerful thrust, eyes rolled back in ecstasy. You whimpered Jungkook's name, voice hoarse from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You felt everything, each inch of him inside of you, and every touch that sent shivers down your spine.

You gripped onto his hair, pulling him closer for another deep kiss. Your tongues tangled together, hearts racing as the both of you lost yourselves in this moment. With every stroke of his hips, you felt the burning sensation between your legs intensify.

It was as if he was setting you on fire, and you couldn't get enough of it. His cock hit your G-spot over and over again, driving you wild with desire.

"Fuck, Jungkook!" You screamed, "I'm close!"

Your nails dug deeper into his skin, Jungkook hissed but didn't pull away, instead, he growled low in his throat and took your lip between his teeth, marking you.

You responded by biting his neck, hard enough to leave a mark of your own.

"Ah, Jungkook!" As Jungkook slammed into you harder and harder, a familiar coil began to build inside of you, bubbling up until finally waves of pleasure crashed over you, one after the other as you found your release.

Your moans and gasps filled the room, drowning out everything else, and Jungkook followed suit, his orgasm overtaking him not long after yours.

"Holy shit, Y/N, I'm gonna-- fuck!"

With one final thrust, Jungkook groaned and his hips stuttered, his warmth filling you up completely.

Your tongues tangled as the two of you kissed, your hearts beating together.

As you caught your breath and lay there together, your bodies still intertwined, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of completion. The air was thick with the mingled scents of sex and sweat, and your skin was slick with a sheen of perspiration.

Jungkook stroked your hair softly, his fingers gentle against your skin, and you could hear the ragged rhythm of his breathing. Your gaze met his, his eyes filled with vulnerability.

You leaned forward, lips brushing against his cheek, and whispered, "So, was all of that earlier...just to make me jealous? So I would give in and take the initiative?"

Jungkook's cheeks tinged a shade of pink, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, "You have no idea how long I've been into you. When I saw you with Taehyung, I just...I don't know. I saw the way you were with him, and I realized that I wanted to be the only one to make you scream like that."

Woah, that was some confession.

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of surprise, joy, and confusion wash over you. "What do you mean, you've been into me for a long time? For how long?"

Jungkook took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a blend of fear and love. "Since the first time I saw you. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just couldn't resist you. You're everything I've ever wanted, and I knew I had to have you, Y/N."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, and you gently caressed his cheek. "I...I've had feelings for you too, Jungkook."

"Although this absolutely fucking pains me to admit, I knew you were home that day. You know, the day with uh, Taehyung. I did that on purpose. I was...I was t-trying to make you jealous."

Jungkook laughed, continuing to stroke your hair, "Well it fucking worked."

You chuckled softly at his admission, your heart swelling with affection as you traced his jawline with your fingers.

"As long as we're honest with each other, it's all good. And honestly, I don't think I would have been able to resist you either," you admitted, a shy smile playing on your lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I want to make sure we get this right, Y/N. I don't want to rush into anything, and I want to make sure we're both happy."

You nodded, understanding the importance of taking things slow. "I agree, Jungkook. We can take our time, and we'll figure this out together."

As you lay entwined, your sweaty bodies still glistening from your passionate encounter, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. This was just the beginning of your journey together and you knew that, as long as you had each other, you could face anything that came your way. The world had just opened up in the most unexpected way, and the two of you were ready to explore it together, side by side.

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