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69dias · 2 years

Text

baby don’t go (i’m bad at being alone)

genre: bff2l, idiots to lovers

warnings: as slowburn as it gets for 25k words, jk is an idiot and oc is so mean to herself AND to others occasionally. religious themes [Bible verses], mentions of alcoholism, unrequited love (not between jk and oc), mentions and themes of death, resolving trauma, bad childhoods. smut: vaginal fingering, marking kink, ily kink, kinda breeding kink, unprotected sex which is BAD

wc: 25k (this is hefty IM SAWRY)

listen to a playlist for this here!

When Jungkook was seven years old, his mother had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He'd answered, way too confident and much too quickly, that his ultimate passion in life was to be a ninja. His mother had laughed fondly, serving him a plate of fruit that she’d cut up for him, and ruffled his hair

He’s positive that she had convinced herself that he'd figure it out eventually; that she’d probably taken it in stride considering the fact that he was seven, but the memory remains clear as day in Jungkook's head in his senior year of college.

Computer Science. That had turned out to be his actual ‘ultimate passion’ in life, though Jungkook always finds himself hesitating when he says it out loud. Perhaps his younger self had thought that he would figure it out eventually too, shoving the concept of a future deep into his mind until he was nearing the end of his gap year and had to choose something tangible to study, and perhaps he’d made the right decision considering his knack for coding and the outrageous starting salary for his major, but his voice always waivers when someone asks what he’s studying.

After all, Jungkook is nothing like you.

Enter character: his childhood best friend, whose umbilical cord had only freshly been cut when they met, much too young to comprehend what he was even looking at. You were a year younger than him, but always a few grades ahead, thanks to your insane amount of academic aptitude (that came with the burden of being afraid to fail at all, but only Jungkook truly knows that), and you’d always, always, known what you wanted to be when you grew up.

You’d answer, voice too strong and vocabulary too poise for an elementary school kid; “My passion is to study law, like my mother.”

You stayed true to it, as well, and if Jungkook wasn’t too absorbed in being impressed by you, he would’ve been sad that you never had a true, silly dream — a princess, or a ballerina, or an astronaut, or anything that didn’t require you to be so stringent at such a young age. But you’d skipped 3rd grade, skipped senior year, went straight to Columbia, and then to Columbia Law; by the time you had graduated college, Jungkook was about halfway done with his gap year. Simply put, being impressed by you wasn’t difficult.

But back to the point he was making, Jungkook is nothing like you, but he misses seeing your face at the frequency he did when you lived next door. And he misses getting you your ridiculously overpriced iced white mochas from a very specific New York-based small business. And he misses you.

The thought of you makes the aforementioned memory with his mother run through his head a bit more persistently than usual, and it’s hard to ignore on an otherwise quiet Wednesday morning. That is, however, until his roommate pops his head into the bathroom.

Enter character: Jungkook’s roomie, Kim Mingyu. Ripped, tall, extremely attractive, and at any given point, either drunk off his ass, or high off his ass, or hungover as shit.

Today, it’s the latter, if the exhausted lily in his voice is any indication.

“Hey, JK.”

He blinks, and the man in question nods from the edge of the bathtub.

“How the hell do I kick this girl out.”

Jungkook’s toothpaste drips onto his wrist, and leans across the commode to spit it out.

“I don’t know, man. Ask her to leave, and give her breakfast money.”

He is not speaking from experience, but Mingyu nods as though he’s been given profound philosophical advice. Jungkook turns the tap on, and wonders how much his friend has had to drink when he visibly grimaces at the rush of the water.

“Thanks man. See you around.”

We live together, I’ll see you in literally one minute.

Jungkook nods, and lets Mingyu shut the door before he’s rinsing his mouth and tending to the very strict AM skincare regime he’s curated. The memory he was stuck on has taken another path to the back of his brain, and he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to think of it, think of you, or think of how much he misses his mother any longer.

He doesn’t, however, exit the bathroom immediately. The girl Mingyu had over is causing a ruckus in their living room, demanding to know why she’s being kicked out and simultaneously letting Jungkook know that his advice was definitely not taken into account; he’d be a bit offended if he couldn’t practically hear Mingyu’s head pounding as she steadily gets louder.

He decides Comp.Sci is a good option; he’s definitely going to get paid enough to not have to deal with this roommate bullshit once he’s out of this college, but he can’t help but feel bad for the girl, and feel worse for Mingyu.

Jungkook walks out when he hears the front door finally lock, and looks up a sobriety program on his phone as his roommate walks past him to his own room.

“Hey JK?”

He turns around, sheepishly hiding his phone without considering the fact that Mingyu is definitely seeing double and definitely didn’t make out his search.

“Yeah?”

“Do not do this one-night stand thing.”

Hey Mingyu? Do not do this alcohol thing.

Both pieces of advice are a bit too little too late, considering that the two of them are in their final years and are confidently past the stage of needing such freshman-esque tips, but Jungkook chooses to stay quiet so as to not rub salt into Mingyu’s wound, though he’s positive the latter is barely aware of this metaphorical wound.

“Yeah, thanks man.”

Mingyu nods again, this time affirmatively, as though he’s given some profound Kantean counseling before shutting his door. Jungkook copies the cheapest and closest sobriety program he finds, and pastes the link in his notes app for future reference.

—

When you were 17, late in your first year of college, your boyfriend had died.

It’s a horrible note to start off on, and it’s worse to have to think about it on a Wednesday, seeing as you reserve these deep delves into trauma for long weekends and bank holidays, but the thing about grief is that it presents itself in weird ways.

Today, you remember the wake. Specifically, you remember the coffee you’d drank afterwards, and how you’ve ended up with the same drink today. It wasn’t your fault, no, a shaken espresso is a common drink at the coffee shop next to campus, and there’s no way AJ would’ve known, seeing as it’s a detail you’ve quite literally never mentioned.

Enter character: AJ, or Alex Jacob Lee, your closest friend at law school, and barista of another overpriced coffee shop you frequent, not to be mistaken with the one further into the city from where you buy those sinfully good white mochas. He has a game going on with you, where he’ll conjure up a different drink for you every Wednesday after your last class, which aligns with his shifts there.

And today, he’s chosen a shaken espresso. Again, not his fault. Again, not a bad drink. It’s the way the bitterness sits on your tongue, and the first greetings of summer in the evening air that have you thinking of your boyfriend — ex-boyfriend, that is. You think of his smile, the closed casket he was laid to rest in because his body was pretty wrecked from the car crash, and you think of Jeon Jungkook.

You remember his arms around you, and you remember refusing to cry. You remember him buying you the drink, and you remember breaking down in front of him, showing any semblance of weakness for the first time in all your 17 years of knowing each other. You think of how much you miss him, how it’s been a good few weeks since you’ve seen him in person, you think of how you never actually fell in love with your boyfriend, and how broken you’d been after he passed.

You still feel the ebbing pain in the left side of your chest, but that’s not something you’re willing to admit. After all, it’s been a good 6 years since then, and you laid him to rest in the tresses of your mind the second you had left the cemetery after his wake.

When you’re done with the drink, you’re done with the memory, and you decide to return to the shop; that way, you can convince yourself that you’re fine, and you can convince AJ to get dinner with you. The coffee lingers in your mouth, though, and take a quick detour to the vending machine to the left of the shop to pick up a bottle of water and think about how horrible the placement of this machine is.

“Hey, you. What’s wrong? Drink not good enough today?”

AJ’s right next to you when you pick up the water from the slot at the bottom, and you find yourself smiling up at him instinctively.

“I think you’ve lost your touch, honestly.”

He laughs, you laugh with him, and your heart feels just a bit lighter after the thought you’ve just had to throttle out of your brain physically, which reminds you of why you returned to the shop in the first place. He looks down at you, gaze so fixed that you look away for a moment before you even open your mouth to speak.

“Wanna grab some dinner? I’m kinda winded, we can get pizza.”

He looks back at the shop, and then at you. The silence is comfortable, and you can hear the music from within the business as someone opens the door to enter. AJ’s expression is a bit hard to read, but the little furrow of his brow, and the way he’s avoiding eye contact tells you that he’s about to say no.

“Can I take a rain check? I’ve gotta finish up at the shop, and I have an early morning tomorrow.”

I’ll wait, and we won’t take long. We can just take it out, we don’t have to sit and eat.

Your mouth feels dry, tastes little like you’ve just thrown up bile, and your eyes shake just a bit as you think of what to say, think of where to look.

“Oh, yeah? No prob, Jakey.”

The nickname slips out, and his mouth droops into a lopsided grin. You don’t notice the twinkle of his eyes, because you’re too busy unscrewing the bottle of water, eager to finally get the tinge of coffee out of your mouth.

He doesn’t say much more, just tells you that he’ll see you around, and takes a quick jog back to work. Pulling your phone out of your pocket is a bit hard because of how hard your hands are shaking, and you clench your fingers together to stop them from doing so, though you’re not sure why you’re acting like this in the first place. Maybe it’s because you’ve just remembered one of the worst days of your life, maybe it’s because you needed company, maybe it’s because you know AJ doesn’t have classes early tomorrow, and maybe it’s because you miss your old best friend.

You decide it’s the latter, and when you finally, finally unlock your phone, you decide to call Jungkook.

The phone rings, and you can’t stand to hear the way AJ’s voice travels outside the coffee shop occasionally, so you walk onto the pavement, trying to focus on the obnoxious rings of the phone. You let it go to voicemail when he doesn’t pick up, and decide that you won’t deal with rejection today, so text him to get dinner with you instead

[to JayKayz] hey, you down to get some pizza tonight?

[to JayKayz] i’ll take the train to NYU and you can meet me at 2 bros?

You figure he’s either in, or finishing his last class, hence the lack of response for the first ten minutes or so, which severely dampens your mood on the way to the train station, but he replies soon after, and you’d be lying if you said your mood didn’t do an entire 180.

[from JayKayz] this is fucking insane cuz I was literally just thinking about you this morning

[from JayKayz] yes to pizza btw.

[from JayKayz] sorry I didn’t pick up I was dealing with Mingyu who’s fucking drunk again.

[from JayKayz] text me when ur on campus and I’ll pick you up.

You have to physically fight yourself from smiling like a psychopath, which is awkward since you don’t really know why you’re smiling. Maybe it’s because he was thinking of you, maybe it’s because he said he’s, or maybe it’s because it’s funny how fed up he is with his roommate who definitely needs to attend a sobriety program. You decide it’s the latter, and your heart isn’t on edge the whole time you make your way to Jeon Jungkook’s university.

—

The thing about you and Jungkook is that there’s nothing awkward about the silences that tend to ensue between the two of you. It’s not uncommon for there to be no words spoken, especially in the past few years — Jungkook has always been an introvert, and school tends to tire you out of being able to carry the conversation. It’s okay, it’s normal, and it’s happened a lot since you moved out to be nearer to campus, but you’re different today.

Jungkook notices the shift almost as soon as you sit down across from him and slide him his coke, hands otherwise empty, saying absolutely nothing else. Typically (read: every single time the two of you eat at 2Bros Pizza, which is not rare), you make fun of him for ordering the Meat Supreme slice, and you always get a coke float for yourself, which reminds him of the time there was a new employee working the Night Shift, and you, in your drunken stupor, almost jumped the counter when he didn’t know how to make one for you. He tucks the memory aside to ask you what’s wrong:

“No float today? Finally saw the light?”

It comes out wrong, less empathetic than he’d like to be, seeing as you’re visibly struggling with something, but it seems to break you out of your own head, and you look up at him. Your eyes shine under the streetlight just a couple inches away from the table the two of you sit at, and the way a smile breaks across your face sends something akin to a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, I had a coffee earlier. AJ and I have a game going, so - uh, yeah, I’m not that thirsty right now.l

Jungkook remembers this guy, but he also notices the way you’ve started to chew on the right side of your lip as you think about him. He hums quietly, opening his mouth to speak when you beat him to it.

“How’s Mingyu by the way? Day drinking again?”

He laughs out loud, taking a bite out of his pizza. You do the same, eyes a bit less dazed as you listen intently to whatever he’s about to say, but he doesn’t speak for a while again, and the silence that ensues this time is more comfortable than before.

It’s something about Jungkook that’s routinely, and you don’t hate it at all. You’ve been a stickler for organization, for schedules, for routine for as long as you can remember, and while you and him are quite different, you can tell that Jungkook appreciates the stability you bring.

You remember being a child and coming here with your family, Jungkook with his. Your mom would share a cheese slice with you, and his mom would share the abominable Meat Premium slice with him. You’d get a coke float, and his eyebrows would furrow as he animatedly talked about how good everything tasted, almost looking upset because it was delicious. You’d stay quiet, sharing an exasperatedly fond look with the two women who sat across from each other, and then you’d look at Jungkook.

And then, you look at Jungkook.

He has the same pinch in his eyebrows, but he’s been eating here for over a decade so the comments about how good the food is have dwindled, and he just slurps obscenely at the cheese, occasionally stopping to take an equally obscene swig of his drink. You’d be disgusted if AJ ate that way, but it’s Jungkook, so you just laugh, and the question you asked about his roommate dissipates from where it was hanging in the air.

“So this AJ guy, what’s his deal?”

You pause mid-bite, looking a bit confused; the timing is scary, and it’s almost like Jungkook's managed to read your mind in the past minute. You answer with a question of your own.

“So this Mingyu guy, what’s his deal?”

“Touché.”

“No like, actually, though,” you let out a laugh at the way Jungkook goes back to devouring his food. “He needs to get to a sobriety program.”

“Dude, for real. I was literally looking one up for him this morning, like it’s an actual fucking problem and he refuses to acknowledge it.”

“Have you actually tried to get him to acknowledge it?”

Jungkook is many things; he’s smart, capable, strong, his eyes are bright under the streetlights, and he’s compassionate, but he’s never been confrontational. Though you don’t doubt he’s concerned for his friend, you also don’t doubt that he’s never brought it up in front of Mingyu, at least directly; you reckon there’s been a lot of beating around the bush, a lot of surreptitious monologues about ‘seeking help when you need’, etcetera. The thought makes you laugh, and Jungkook looks at you quizzically.

“I mean, I made him watch a TED talk about sobriety last week, and he seemed intrigued…”

You raise a brow. Jungkook would bully you relentlessly for watching those videos, and you doubt he’d watch them even with someone’s best interest in mind.

“We were both high.”

The two of you laugh, looking away so as to not break entirely, and then accidentally making eye contact, breaking almost immediately after.

His laughter is loud, bright, and it brings you back to when you were kids.

You laugh silently, taking in large gasps of air whenever you feel the need to, and Jungkook can’t help but think of how you’ve had this habit since you were a toddler.

When a few tears slip inevitably, Jungkook doesn’t let you use the collar of your shirt to wipe them like AJ typically does, using the pads of his fingers to gently flick them off of your cheeks. (It’s another thing he’s done for years now, but you don’t think about it in the afterglow of laughing so hard that your ribs sting a bit.)

Thinking of AJ reminds you of the question Jungkook asked you before you grilled him about Mingyu. You wonder why you avoided it so desperately, and you wonder why you’re thinking so much about AJ today, when Jungkook is right in front of you.

He’s pretty like this, the pizza parlor’s sign lights up a little after 21:30, and the green and red hues make the dewy skin of his face look softer. He’s chewing at his straw, and has a lazy grin on his face, occasionally giggling when he undoubtedly remembers the outburst the two of you just had.

It’s simple, routinely, laughing with Jungkook, being with Jungkook, and your mind is no longer clouded with the wake, with how much your Tort Law professor hates your whole class, with how AJ lied to you, but you don’t suppose it’d be the worst thing to not leave Jungkook hanging.

“What about AJ, by the way?”

He looks up, and his eyes are just as big as they used to be when he was a toddler.

“You asked what his deal was, what’d you mean?”

Jungkook’s lazy grin is back as he stares at you, reaching across the table to push back a strand of hair that you hadn’t even noticed fall into your face. His touch is warm, and you hope the bright red light of the sign masks the soft blush that warms your face when he strokes the underside of your jaw before pulling away.

“I meant, like, you know,” he pauses, but you shake your head, still confused. Jungkook breathes to regroup, and continues. “The Wednesday drink thing, and how he’s the homescreen of your phone, and how you’re blushing right now after bringing him up? I know dating’s a bit tough but like, maybe there’s something there?”

The realization dawns upon you; Jungkook thinks you’re into AJ, and vice versa. You don’t know why it makes your stomach turn, so you attribute it to the pizza you’ve just had and the coffee from earlier.

The ridiculous urge to defend yourself like Jungkook’s accused you of something fights it’s way up your throat, accompanied by bile. You swallow it down, clearing your throat before you start your rebuttal statement. (You don’t think about how you’re thinking of this like a case, when it’s quite literally just your best friend talking about who you’re dating).

“The Wednesday drink thing’s only because he has a shift there after I’m done with classes, and it’s not like he gives them to me for free.”

Jungkook can’t tell why you look so serious now, back straight and face cold, voice icy. It’s a sharp contrast to the way you were speaking only a mere 10 minutes prior, and he wants to tell you that it’s nothing serious; that he wasn’t accusing you.

“He’s the homescreen of my phone because I look good in the picture, and also because it’s from my 21st birthday, which was just a good day in my life —“

“I think y-you misunderstood me?”

He doesn’t sound confident, but you stop speaking, unable to tell him that you weren’t, in fact, blushing because of AJ.

“There’s nothing there, Jungkook.”

He looks down, and then back up at you, the prickly feeling of discomfort crawling across his chest. Jungkook isn’t sure why he feels cornered, why he feels upset at the way you responded to something innocent he said.

It makes him think of another time, back in your first year of law school when he’d asked you why you hadn’t called him for a week; you’d straightened up, basically recounted every assignment you had due, every other engagement you had, went to hell and back to justify yourself when he was just asking a question.

It makes him think of countless other times, when you’d dissect questions like he was a prosecutor in a courtroom, when you’d pounce at him at the slightest indication of being cornered, when you’d feel the need to justify and self-assess even if he wasn't even in a 100 mile radius of asking you to do that.

He wants to tell you that you don’t have to feel like he’s forcing an answer out of you, that you have a life and you could’ve just laughed it off, that you don’t have to be afraid to have human instincts and relationships and that you’re his best friend.

Instead, he ignores the way your eyes look glossy, ignores the clear indication that you’ve had a stupidly hard day, ignores the screaming cries for someone to tell you that it’s okay, for someone to just ask what’s wrong — something he’s been on the fence of doing for the whole evening. He ignores it all, and gets up to throw his plate away.

“I’m sorry —“

“Need me to walk you to the train station?”

“Uh, no. I got it. Thanks.”

You follow with your own plate, picking your bag up from the seat beside you, and wave at Jungkook a bit awkwardly. He waves back, still not making eye contact with you, and lets you walk away without saying a word more.

Jungkook tries not to think about how pretty you are, tries not to think about how you’re going to cry in the solitude of your room which is how you’ve always dealt with emotions, tries not to think about whatever you could’ve been thinking of that had you on the edge the entire evening. He tries to think about Mingyu, sobriety, and a fraternity party he has to go to tomorrow. He tries to think about skipping his last class, and ends up thinking about how lovely your smile is.

You text AJ to pick you up from campus despite the fake excuse he’d thrown at you earlier even though you don’t really want to think of him, and you hope the person sitting across from you on the train doesn’t notice how you’re crying. It’s your boyfriend, it’s Jungkook and how you lashed out at him for no reason, it’s fucking AJ, and how Jungkook thinks you’re dating him when he’s just lied to you — it’s how AJ lied to you about a morning class — it’s Tort Law, and it’s the shaken espresso you had that seems to still linger on your tongue. You try to think about a party you’ve been invited to tomorrow, try to think about how badly you need to get laid, and end up thinking about Jungkook’s pretty eyes.

—

AJ ends up picking you up from outside the train station, and if he notices your red-rimmed eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

Jungkook’s words, the cause of you snapping him, his insinuations all come to mind when AJ’s this close to you. You can smell his deodorant, you can feel the thin hoodie he dons on your sleeve, you can hear the small breaths he takes; I know dating’s a bit tough but like, maybe there’s something there?”

Is there? You wished you would’ve asked Jungkook to elaborate on this theory of his; he’s observant, and as aforementioned, not one for confrontation of any kind — the thought makes your head hurt with guilt because you’ve just shown him that he shouldn’t, in fact, confront people lest they give him a reaction anywhere similar to yours — and it’s apparent that he was probably sitting on the thought for a while.

Is there? AJ looks at you warmly, the Wednesday drink thing is a bit intimate, he knows your schedule, knows your professors and how you feel about them, knows your apartment even when he's drunk and it’s dark, and you know all of these things when it comes to him. You think about it for a moment, and when you look up at him, he’s already staring down at you. It’s kind, a bit far away like he was doing some thinking of his own, too, and you’re grateful he doesn’t look away immediately.

AJ and you make sense together, if you were to put it logistically. Met in Law School, were friends for years before potentially getting together, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like a puzzle piece fitting into place. But logistics aren’t the game you play, and the longer you look at him, the more it settles in that there isn’t really much there. With Jungkook, for example, you’d notice the pretty doe shape in his eyes, the scar above his cheek, the slope of his nose and how when he blushes, the pink spreads from the tips of his ears inwards — with AJ, all you see is a handsome face.

Jungkook is your best friend, though, and again, it makes more sense to notice these nuances with him than with AJ and fuck, why are you even thinking about this?

AJ continues to look at you, and you’re thankful, not for his eerie silence as much as for the fact that he’s walking you home at night after you’ve had such a rough day. If being with Jungkook is routine, AJ is the soft of your sheets after a long day — he’s always there, always with you, even if he doesn’t really say anything to you.

(You fight this thought from appearing in your head, but evidently fail.)

Even today, he didn’t question where you were coming from, didn’t say that he couldn’t come get you because he had this supposed ‘early morning’ (which he didn’t, which you could not get over), didn’t say a single word, at least it until you did.

It’s a quiet question, one that has lingered in the back of your mind for the whole evening: “Why’d you lie, Alex?”

He looks startled, both at the rare use of his first name, and by the question itself.

“What… what do you mean, exactly?” His laugh is a bit forced, and he steps away from you, looking away.

“You said you have an early morning, but I know your Crim. Justice class starts at 2. You could’ve just said you didn’t wanna have dinner with me —“ you laugh at the end, hoping to lighten the atmosphere but it doesn’t work.

There is seriously something wrong with you today, but AJ breaks through that thought with a laugh.

“Early morning for work, ___. Internships don’t start till June, but doesn’t Cravath ask you to come in sometimes? It’s that. Some petty admin work.”

Your heart stops trying to commit suicide, and your shoulders relax for the first time since AJ handed you that damn drink this morning. You’d both landed top internships; you with Cravath, AJ with Watchell Lipton, and he was right, because you have gone in to do ‘petty admin work’ for them in the past month since you were accepted.

It’s a happy reminder of how well you’re doing, a happy reminder that your friend didn’t just lie to you, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a sheepish one that turns genuine when you realize how accusatory you’d been, and you’re grateful again that he starts laughing along with you.

(You don’t notice his laugh the same way you did with Jungkook, but you also don’t dwell on that too much.)

“Fuck, man. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

He throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his upper body so he can plant a loud kiss on the crown of your head. It’s something he does with everyone, but the conversation you had over dinner remains at the forefront of your mind and you close your eyes to really take in the proximity, the ease with which he just touches you, the way it feels natural, and the way you don’t mind.

“Maybe you should ask questions on the spot instead of working yourself into a frenzy about them, huh?”

“Maybe I should. No yeah, I definitely should. I don't know why I’m being slick about it —“

He laughs at that, taking your hand to spin you in front of him, and then around.

If AJ notices the way your hair frames your face when he stops puppeteering you, if he notices the way your laugh echoes in his mind after you’ve stopped, if he notices the way you’ve remembered his classes, he doesn’t do anything about it. He had, however, noticed the way you were so obviously crying, and though he refuses to pry lest he invade your privacy, lest he finds out that he might’ve been the reason.

He stays quiet about it, though, all the way till he reaches the lobby of your apartment complex, which is when he repeats what Jungkook had done just about an hour prior, fixing a strand of your messy hair.

(You don’t blush like you had when Jungkook had done it, but AJ also doesn’t touch the underside of your jaw as gingerly as Jungkook had, so you convince yourself that it’s nothing)

“If it was hayfever, I know a great remedy, but if not, you should know that whatever you had to cry about, that it’s okay. If you can do Tort Law with Henderson, you can do anything.”

His assurance, paired with the fact that he hadn’t lied, paired with the fact that he’d kissed your head, paired with the way he’d spun you around like he was starring in some Glen Powell rom-com, paired with the way that he’d come and pick you up in the first place — all of it settles your heart fully, and you don’t even really remember why you’d cried in the first place.

“Thank you. For picking me up, and I’m sorry that I was so, you know —“

“Don’t worry about it, it’s literally going to be your job to be ‘so, you know’ okay?”

You nod, chuckling lightly, and watch him wave you goodbye. If you pronounce your own wave a little extra so he laughs at it and isn’t even slightly worried about you being upset, nobody has to know. And if you still can’t stop thinking about Jungkook and how you need to apologize to him, nobody has to know.

—

Jungkook despises his schedule on Thursdays. It’s class after class, a shift at his job, another class, and another class — typically, by the end of the day, his brain is nothing but mush, he’s frazzled; exhausted, and passes out for a much simpler Friday, but as it is, there’s been a lot more unconventional breaks in routine than he’s used to, and he ends up going to a party after his final class on this particular Thursday.

Mingyu invited him, but he’s not thinking about that, because thinking of his roommate makes him think of his conversation with you, which makes him think of how abruptly your manner had changed, which makes him feel bad for you, and also a little upset that you spoke to him that way, which makes him think of the notifications on his phone that he’s definitely not ignoring right now.

[from Elle Woods] jeongguk

[from Elle Woods] im sorry, i don’t know what that was or why I got so defensive about aj, and you didn’t deserve it

[from Elle Woods] i really missed you, it’s been weeks since we’ve talked

[from Elle Woods] actually, can i just call you?

[2 missed calls from Elle Woods]

He’d feel a little bad, because he knows that if you owe each other something, anything, it’s communication — you’ve been friends since you were literal infants, and he should know that there’s probably a very reasonable explanation for yesterday but he shuts his phone off, and recites the excuse for whenever he decides to get back to you.

___ie, I’m sorry, I was just busy — you know how Thursdays are, right?

He’s sure you’ll understand, and he can’t bring himself to continue thinking about it lest he breaks and gets himself into a longer-than-necessary phone call with you when he could be getting shitfaced to forget about the day he’s had; either that, or protecting Mingyu from throwing himself into premature liver failure as best as he possibly can.

Jungkook finds himself shoveling any remaining thoughts of you to the back of his head, another thing he’s being doing unconventionally often, and his short commute to the fraternity house Mingyu’s typo-filled message points him towards — another thing that should debase him, but the promise of alcohol (with a borderline frightening amount of emojis) keeps him going.

He realizes soon, that senior year is an absolute bitch, because it’s been months since he’s seen half of these people and it’s like nostalgia’s kicked him in the mouth, followed by the pungence of miscellaneous alcoholic drinks that you can only drink half a cup of before blacking out, followed by the familiar twinge of the fraternity party patented sweat.

He’s broken out of this haze, watching people pass by him as he slumps against the doorframe of the kitchen by the vaguely familiar voice of somebody he used to know very well —

“Jungkookie? At a party? As I live and breathe!”

Enter character: Lim Nayoung, Jungkook’s ex-fuckbuddy, ex-situationship, near ex-girlfriend. Though the first two are terms exclusively used by high school students, there’s really no other way to describe the relation he has (had) with her, and even as he hears her voice, there’s a rush of emotion that he had to swallow down before he gets a good look at her.

She’s, well, a sight to see; though Jungkook told her he liked her long hair a lot (especially when she styled it like yours, which isn’t something he’s willing to say out loud), she has it cut short. He thinks it suits her, and he makes a mental note to let her know as he tries his best to take a once-over of her subtly, but gives up shortly when he notices her gaze on him; expectant.

“It’s been a while, huh?” A soft grin makes its way up his face, and he fights the urge to pull her into a hug. “I love the hair.”

“What happened to liking it long? In that weird 90s blowout?”

(Your ‘weird 90s blowout’. The same hair you’ve been wearing since junior year of high school, but Nayoung doesn’t have to know, and Jungkook doesn’t want to tell her.)

“I actually still like that look, but this is working for you, baby,” the pet name slips from his lips, force of habit, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way her eyes lit up for a second. “Where’s everyone else?” It’s a quick attempt to salvage his slip-up, but it doesn’t seem like Nayoung notices the deflection. She doesn’t point him to the group of friends he’s so familiar with, though, instead dragging him by the forearm into the kitchen.

He catches sight of Mingyu by the drinks as Nayoung pours him something from a punch bowl, bright red with fruits strewn about the top, and Jungkook’s sure just a smell of it would kill a medieval peasant. He does, in fact have an incentive for being here, and is reminded of that by his aforementioned roommate’s loud shriek of his name.

Nayoung gets to him before Mingyu, passing him a solo cup that she so graciously garnished with an orange slice, and he strokes her hair as a silent thanks, and a preemptive apology for what’s about to hit her, vis-à-vis Hurricane Mingyu;

“Yo, JK? You came, man!” The side hug he gets is sloppy, and Mingyu’s voice is so slurred that Jungkook can’t help but assume he’s been pre-gaming this for a while. The thought is cut off violently when his jaw is grabbed, forehead pressing against Mingyu’s in a manner too intimate for Jungkook to deal with without alcohol in his system. “You’re the man, I can’t believe we haven’t partied at all this year!” He shoves Jungkook away, while the latter looks dazed (read: disgusted) at how strongly Mingyu’s breath smelled of alcohol.

He takes a sip of the concoction in his cup, wincing just a bit as the gasoline-y aftertaste fully settles in, right before the realization that it has, indeed, been way too long since he's last been to a party at all. He downs the drink, trying not to let his aversion show immediately before he looks down at Nayoung, nodding towards the drinks again.

“Down like water, huh? What happened to my whiskey addict?” Nayoung’s voice is bleary over the terrible EDM drop that’s just played over the speakers, but Jungkook laughs anyways — whiskey’s been his drink of choice ever since you managed to get away with buying a bottle at 17, and he thinks about you every single time he drinks it; more specifically, the way you’d all but hurled it in front of a bodega, and then the way the two of you had drunkenly ran off.

Whatever was in the drink is working, apparently, because Jungkook can feel the buzz of the drink in his veins, and as he pushes aside the memory of the two of you, there’s a burst of confidence that pulses through him. It isn’t anything forward, just the personality so many of his friends were well acquainted with — cocky, a little egotistical, a little too hot for his own good — fighting it’s way out of the somber senior he’s been playing for a good few months now.

He leans against the punch table so he’s eye-level with Nayoung, who shies away from the sudden proximity, and if she’s blushing just a bit, he pretends like he doesn’t notice in favor of grabbing the drink out of her hand and drinking it all in one go. It stings on its way down, and she stares at him, mouth agape at what she’s just seen him do twice in a row.

“There’s like, an entire bottle of vodka in that.”

Jungkook smiles, a little lazy and a little lopsided.

“Is there another full bottle somewhere?”

The catastrophic thing about Jungkook isn’t that he makes bad decisions, it’s just that he refuses to admit when he’s made a bad decision.

To set the scene, think of Jungkook, on the lawn of the insanely big glorified fraternity mansion, 7 shots of vodka in and drunk enough that his equilibrium is fully askew and he’s slurring his words in the dialect only you’re familiar with, one he’s grown out of years ago.

Nayoung is still by his side, reasonably sober compared to him, and a couple of his friends — both close and those who he all but neglected in favor of computer science senior year — surround him. They’ve chosen the surprisingly well kempt area because EDM and copious amounts of alcohol stop making sense when you hit your twenties, and as it is, Jungkook’s previous attempts to keep you out of his brain are failing horrifically.

They talk about the time Nayoung and Jungkook got drunk, called Namjoon and told him the only identifiable landmark was the moon, talk about Seokjin throwing up at the foot of the Statue of Liberty, talk about their lives, Mingyu talks about his endeavors in bed (which is weird because he definitely doesn’t know half the people in this vicinity) and Jungkook thinks about you.

He thinks about feeling bad that he’s not replying, thinks about how you don’t drink a lot because drunk driving killed your boyfriend, thinks about how smart you are and how he wishes you had an easier childhood, how he wishes you weren’t so hard on yourself, wishes you were here and that you hadn’t moved out, wishes he could see you everyday, and wishes that he could just get you out of his head.

He thinks about you, uncharacteristically quiet until Nayoung calls him on it —

“What’s got you all worked up?” Her question is really just a figure of speech, but he wants to tell her everything because if anyone knows Jungkook even a smidge close to the way you know him, it’s Nayoung.

“N’thin, nothing,” he takes a pause to breathe out, regroup and look down at Nayoung. It takes him a while to really gather that the group has split up, all going their separate ways after getting shitfaced, presumably to find themselves another drink or a hookup. He wonders if you’ve ever hooked up with someone at a party, wonders if you’d say yes if he were to ask —

“Wanna go upstairs? I hate this fucking music.”

[In retrospect, he should’ve known, at that point, that he was making a horrible mistake, but again, he’d never admit it]

“Yeah. Not because I wanna sit in a fraternity kid’s bed, but because I wanna shoot Avicii right about now.” It takes Nayoung a while to comprehend his slurred words, but she laughs at the sentiment before telling him that Avicii’s very much not alive. It makes Jungkook grin morbidly, and he finds himself grabbing her hand to pull her back into the house.

In the essence of wanting to be a good friend, he looks around to catch a glimpse of Mingyu anywhere, and finds him near the kitchen. He’s, surprisingly so, not drunk outwardly, but Jungkook figures that’s bound to change soon; the party is nowhere near being over. His roommate catches Nayoung’s hand in his, and shoots him a horrifically confused look, which Jungkook pays no mind to.

It doesn’t take long for them to make their way upstairs and into the only bedroom on the floor that isn’t locked or mysteriously producing obscene pornstar-esque sex sounds, and even though the bed is horribly unkempt in a way that would become the butt of your jokes for months on end, they settle.

Fuck, Jungkook has got to stop thinking about you. It’s becoming dangerously apparent that you’re becoming the forefront of his thoughts this evening, and he just can’t figure out why. It’s happened before, too, every time he’d go out to get lunch or dinner with you, every time you’d force him to come with you to The Met or every time he’d force you to come with him to a Yankees game, you’d just plague his brain for the next couple of days. He thinks it because you’re his best friend, that it’s normal to think about someone who’s entire childhood has been riddled with yours, but he can’t exactly focus on that thought when Nayoung pulls her jacket off.

It’s one she bought when they used to… be involved, and Jungkook smiles ever so lightly when he remembers the day.

“That from our little detour to Jersey?”

She looks up at him, and the light of the room is a bit too dim to properly make out her features, but it reflects off of her collarbones, gets his mind all fuzzy when she reciprocates the dopey smile he has on.

“Yeah, yep. I always keep the memorabilia.”

“I mean, the other memorabilias,” he quotes the word, still feeling really fucking buzzed, “were just tattoos. Bit hard to get rid of those, huh?”

Nayoung laughs, and Jungkook feels the claws of past intimacy scratch down his back. It’s familiar, being like this with her, and he values that. Values her, even if she never really gave him an actual reason for breaking it off — ‘we’re in different places, clearly’ she’d told him, and if he sat down to really think about it, he might be able to decipher her words in the context of their relationship but Jungkook literally cannot think of more than three things at once right now.

She lies down flat on the bed, and he has half a mind to tell her off about frat boys and their abysmal hygiene, but he thinks it’s a good idea, and readjusts himself so he’s laying right next to her. She tilts her head to look at him, and he finds the ceiling to be the most interesting thing in the world as soon as it registers in his mind what might be happening.

“What happened with you?”

“Huh?”

“Just… how you disappeared after senior year, how you were dozing off even when you’re definitely drunk. It’s so unlike you to not be like, the one keeping the conversation going.”

I can’t stop thinking about my best friend. I’m worried about her, and senior year is ruining my life because I’m not sure I even want to do computer science and my roommate needs to be put in a sobriety program and I need to talk to my best friend right now but I’m ignoring her.

“Yeah, it’s just — work stuff, ya know? ‘S been crazy this year. You know.”

Though his intentions aren’t to give her the wrong idea about this ordeal, he can’t help himself from turning his head to look at her. He laughs, and she doesn’t wince even when his (presumably) vodka-smelling breath hits her face. Nayoung’s giggle is quiet, and she lifts a hand to his head to push back his hair.

If Jungkook keens just a bit, nobody has to know.

“I don’t know, really. I mean, I don’t have a sick internship, so work’s not that bad for me.”

Jungkook’s pupils are blown out, and when Nayoung’s eyes meet his, he sobers up enough for him to realize just how close they are. With a portion of his brain suddenly not inebriated, he should realize what’s happening, he should pull away, but he also realizes that you haven’t crossed his head for a good couple of minutes, which is good enough of a sign for him to stay put.

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

He’s confused at why you’re being brought up, but he shakes his head as best as he can manage; there’s no way she remembers you, and there’s no way she thought there was a ‘thing’ between you and him. That would be weird, but he can’t help but think of what she’d said — we’re in different places, clearly.

Different places.

“There was… no thing.”

“So there’s nothing with her and you?”

“No, Nayoung-ie. Never was.”

Different places? Was there a thing?

When she kisses him, he doesn’t stop her.

(And when she asks him to fuck her; delirious, eyes wide, skin dewy, he doesn’t stop himself.)

It’s messy, limbs tangled as he’s basically bent her over in half to plow his cock into her, more drunk off the pretty sounds she makes — familiarly, intimacy — than the copious amounts of drinks he’s had. She’s moaning his name out like a prayer, and he’s leaning over her like a god, and Jungkook’s stopped being religious, but he thinks it’s sin, the way she envelopes him and gives herself to him. The way he doesn’t have to ask, the way she’s meeting his hips halfway.

Exodus 20:14, Proverbs 6:32, Hebrews 13:4 — You shall not commit adultery, But a man who commits adultery has no sense; whoever does so destroys himself, Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral.

He remembers these verses, and he remembers your pretty eyes, and you’re all he can think about when he looks down at Nayoung. Does that make him an adulterer? Does that make him a cheater, dirty, sinful? He fucks into her deeper, inevitably hits the spot — familiarity, intimacy — and drinks her moans in. He remembers the slope of your nose, and how you’d laughed together over dinner a day ago, how your eyes had looked under the streetlights. Nayoung tears up, tells him it feels so fucking good, and he thinks of the tears in your eyes. His hips stutter, and it makes her dig her blunt nails into the clothes expanse of his shoulders, but he welcomes the pain better than he welcomes the guilt of having let you walk away.

He feels wretched, feels horribly for Nayoung and feels the vodka in his system crawl its way up his throat but he keeps it down. He’s close, she’s close, and if this was a bad decision, nobody has to know.

Jungkook feels her lose herself over him, and he lets his mind drift to you one last time, biting his lip so he doesn’t groan out your name as his hips lose their rhythm. When he pulls out, one hand lazily pumping his cock, he tries to picture Nayoung, her tits bouncing pretty under her shirt, how she’s trying to regroup all because of him, how she laughed and how it felt when she touched his hair but all his brain can manage is you.

Fuck, he feels wretched. Disgusting, like it’s incestual to think about you the way he is but he welcomes it, let’s you into his mind after fighting it for hours, and when he spills all over Nayoung’s stomach, there’s some sick gratification that coats him.

And that’s the thing about Jungkook. This was a horrible decision, down to every last detail. Fucking your ex-fuckbuddy in a random frat boy’s room after getting shitfaced because you haven’t drank that much in months, and ending up thinking about your best friend even if the goal was to not do that? Bad, bad decision.

But he takes it in stride. Thinks of this as a silver lining, a distraction from you as though you haven’t clouded his head like a stupid wet dream while he fucked somebody else.

And that’s the thing about Jungkook. He refuses to admit that he’s messed up.

Jungkook doesn’t take much time to recuperate from sex. He has incredible stamina coming from the insane workout regime he absolutely has to keep up with, and he can definitely go multiple times in one night, thank you very much, but he can’t bring himself to even think of agreeing to fuck Nayoung again.

He hopes she’s on the same page when he looks at her, the pacing of her breath slowing down as she sits up slowly. He reaches out, stroking her arm right above her elbow where the matching tattoo she got with him sits. Jungkook distracts himself from deciding on what to say as he recalls how they’d gotten it together, how he’d called you right after to show —

Fuck, he hadn’t even thought about you. Granted, you don’t fit into the situation very well, but he doesn’t doubt that you’ll be impartial to telling him off about what he’s just done. He thinks about what to tell you, and remembers the unread messages on his phone, and remembers what he should be doing, which is somehow getting the idea of ever doing this again out of Nayoung’s head.

“Well, you’re never gonna be bad at sex.”

He laughs sheepishly, shuffling to pull his boxers over his still exposed dick. He has no idea what the hell to say to that, and it seems like it’s about to lead to a monologue about how since he’s never ‘gonna be bad at sex’, that they should continue — or return — to be fuckbuddies.

Fuck.

“But we aren’t doing that again.”

Jungkook’s neck snaps up and he lets out a breath of relief he had no idea he was even holding. Nayoung looks incredibly beautiful, and he would lay everything at her feet out of gratitude because she’s just made this whole ordeal inexplicably easy for him. Her face is bright, like it always used to get after they fucked, and Jungkook feels a bout of familiarity catch in his throat, this time accompanied with a sick rush of guilt.

“Uh, w-why do you say that?” His voice is gentle, coaxing the answer out of her, though he can predict what she’s about to say.

We’re in different places, clearly.

“I mean, you were shitfaced just half an hour ago. This was like, a drunken rebound,” Jungkook laughs at that, quiet and low, reaching up to rub at his nape. He doesn’t feel as drunk now, but Nayoung’s next words definitely do the job of sobering him up. “You’re fun, but I want a relationship before I graduate and I honestly don’t think you even like me.”

His world pauses for a split second, and his heart breaks for her; because he made her feel unloved.

Jungkook thinks of Nayoung. Sitting in front of him, face tinged a bit pink from the incredible sex (Exodus 20:14, Proverbs 6:32, Hebrews 13:4), hair cut short and hair long in a blowout (the one you sport all the time) (he thinks your hair is the prettiest shade of brown, and he remembers running his fingers through it). He thinks of Nayoung, matching tattoos and drives to Jersey and how she kissed him with so much fervency and how he tried so hard to match it.

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

He thinks of calling you after getting tattoos, thinks of how your laugh echoed through his phone in the empty street. He thinks of texting you (shit, he has to text you) for ideas of things to give Nayoung. He thinks of Nayoung opening those gifts and throwing her arms around his neck. He thinks of getting drunk with Nayoung and telling her about childhood memories with you — he thinks of the house you grew up in and the one next to it, where he grew up.

He thinks of you telling him how hard school was, how young you were in high school. He thinks of you crying when your boyfriend died. He thinks of your overpriced white mochas and 2Bros Pizza and fucking AJ. He thinks of how you told him to date Nayoung about two years ago, he thinks about how you’ve always been under this multitude of pressure to excel, and he thinks about how he loves you, and how he loves (fuck) Nayoung.

“Of course I like you, Nana.”

Jungkook remembers how she’d lay down on his bicep after he fucked her one night, telling him about the silly nickname. He remembers thinking then, about how you never had a silly nickname because your parents were too focused on getting you into the top ranking kindergarten in all of the Upper East Side. He remembers laughing at Nayoung’s story, and then making a note to give you a stupid nickname.

And then, Jungkook realizes she’s right.

He doesn’t like her, at least not enough to date her. He thinks of his best friend more than he thinks of her, and Nayoung probably already knows this, hence her little comment earlier.

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

“But I think I like you too much to fuck you and let myself leave it at that. So you’re wrong about that. But I also think that I can’t give you that relationship. I’m busy, and I think I need to figure out like, my future job and stuff and fuck, I’m sorry if I led you on.”

The look Nayoung gives him reaches down into his stomach and tugs at his gut. She looks pitiful, like he’s the one who’s being hurt in this situation. He looks equally as confused as she does woeful.

“I don’t think your job is all you need to figure out, Jungkook.”

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

Exodus 20:14, Proverbs 6:32, Hebrews 13:4

He doesn’t ask her what she means, and she doesn’t elaborate.

Jungkook watches her redress, and he chooses to do the same as the reality of being butt naked on a random frat boy’s bed nearly gives him whiplash.

He feels the weight of his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and realizes how desperately he needs to talk to you, to let you talk to him. To let you tell him what went wrong yesterday. He thinks he won’t tell you what just went down with Nayoung.

Nayoung.

She’s beautiful in her clothes again, a little messy, but Jungkook feels the urge to never let anyone hurt her, including himself. It’s love, he knows immediately, when the dim lamp hits the apples of her cheeks and he can see the flutter in her eyelashes when she blinks. But it’s not romantic, and he’s a bit relieved when he realizes this. (It feels nothing like how he does when he looks at you). This love is platonic, not brotherly but friendly, like he’d pick her up from a club and remember her restaurant orders and be the one to haze any of her boyfriends.

And he tells her just this.

“I love you, Nana. You know that, yeah?”

She looks over at him, and it must click in her head what he's implying, because her eyes brighten just a little.

(If they’re glossing over because she’s about to cry, Jungkook will pretend he doesn’t notice.)

“I love you too, Jungkook. You know that, yeah?”

He nods, and he feels the taste of his love for her heavy on his tongue. This love is platonic, not brotherly but friendly, like he’d pick her up from a club and remember her restaurant orders and be the one to haze any of her boyfriends.

(He thinks he loves you platonically as well.)

(If the love he feels when he looks at you is entirely different than the love he feels when he looks at Nayoung, even though he cites them both as being platonic, nobody has to know.)

—

[from JayKayz] im sorry baby, i didn’t check my phone all day.

[from JayKayz] you know how thursdays are.

[from JayKayz] dont apologize. i don’t wanna talk over call, twll me when you’re free

—

It’s about a month after the small reconciliation that Jungkook tells you about how he’d fucked Nayoung.

The last couple of weeks have been incredible; works dwindled down over the past couple of weeks for the both of you, finals are in their last bow before summer, and after a brunch at one of Manhattan’s finest rooftop bars where the two of you had drank a shit ton of margaritas, the guilt of potentially offending Jungkook no longer eats you alive.

It reminds Jungkook of, funnily enough, his freshman year of college — going out as he came in — when the grief of losing your boyfriend wasn’t eating you alive any longer. The two of you had done every cheesy New York tourist thing; ice skating at Bryant Park down to lunch on top of the Empire State Building, and you’d laughed, learned to ballroom dance from YouTube videos only to botch it horribly in the streets; it was the first time Jungkook felt that rush down his throat, and he’s begun to feel it again recently.

It’s like the montage of a romantic comedy where the main characters get to really know each other: a part you savor, and a part Jungkook tends to skip so he can get to whatever conflict awaits. The two of you have done everything together, continued to get weekly pizzas at 2Bros, where you’ve openly made fun of him for his order choice, gotten white mochas at the small business you love too much (he thinks it’s not that great but spends $18 anyways), rewatched the first 5 seasons of Friends (he’s realized you can literally quote it), gone to every Yankees game you could get tickets to (you make him explain all the plays even if he’s done it a million times), spent too much time and too much money at the Statue of Liberty, gotten pictures together at random photo booths in the street, slept under the stars, slept tangled in each other’s arms, drunkenly made out once only to never talk about it —

It’s going better than it ever has, and Jungkook can count on one hand the memories he has that beat out any of the ones that he’s spent with you.

However, as a callback to the Glen Powell rom-com plot curve, there has to be a conflict. So when Jungkook tells you about that drunken memory that still is very much in his mind, you really think you should’ve seen it coming.

It happens over lunch, another sick foreshadow you should’ve seen barreling towards you, and it hits you in a way you can’t exactly explain. He doesn’t take it as seriously; doesn’t think you’d care because it’s not like any of this is inherently romantic. It’s not like he cheated on you; the two of you were just best friends who hadn’t even seen each other in a while when it happened.

(If the Bible verses are at the tip of his tongue when Jungkook thinks of it, he leaves that part out of the recollection.)

He laughs when he tells you, and you savor the sweet sound, the one that’s low and tugs at your heart in an inexplicable manner.

It starts off as a conversation about how he cannot drink vodka anymore, and you immediately wish you hadn’t asked when he speaks: “You know that time, when you got really pissed at me for saying that AJ shit to you?”

The memory sends something queasy down your stomach. It shoots down your legs for a split second before you remember his words from a month back.

You don’t have to explain yourself, I get it.

It must’ve been a hard day, huh? That fucker got you a shaken espresso, Jesus.

Yeah I know he had no idea, but still. I do. And it makes me feel so shitty for you.

You don’t have to explain yourself.

“I’d say pissed is an overstatement.”

“Overstatement for you, you have the best attorneys in the country teaching you on random Tuesday. For me,” his hands reach to rest dramatically over his heart, and you laugh unironically, making a note to yourself to only order mocktails from this moment forward. “It was like getting bitchslapped.”

That genuinely makes you laugh.

“But whatever, the next day, I went to a party and got shitfaced to deal with the pain.”

That reminds you of how you’d dealt with snapping at him the day after — how you had hyperventilated in your room when he didn’t reply, how you had to skip a class because your heart wouldn’t stop beating at the prospect of losing him.

You don’t have to explain yourself.

“And I fucked Nayoung. So no more vodka for me.”

“Lim Nayoung?”

You don’t know why you ask, obviously it’s her.

Obviously it’s Lim Nayoung. The girl who has a matching tattoo with Jungkook on her arm. The girl who has gifts you told him to get for her decorating her shelves. The sweet girl who never stopped Jungkook from speaking to you even if the ‘girl best friend archetype made perfect sense. The girl who has a jacket from when Jungkook and her had almost had a Ross/Rachel wedding after getting drunk in Jersey. His ex-fuckbuddy, hell, his ex-girlfriend because who does all of that with someone who’s supposed to be strictly physical.

Obviously it’s Lim Nayoung.

Obviously you shouldn’t be this fucking surprised.

Obviously your heart shouldn’t sink to the tresses of your stomahc.

Obviously this wasn’t meant to be romantic.

“Yeah, her. It was fucking crazy, I don’t think I’ve ever drank that much.”

His voice is fuzzy in your ears, and you can’t look him in the eyes properly. You take a sip of the drink that’s next to you, willing yourself to suddenly get wasted so you never remember this moment.

Why does it make a sharp pain go through your left side? Why do you have to clench your palms into a fist to subside said pain. Why did you think this was going somewhere, why did you think Jungkook wasn’t still hung up on her.

You think of AJ, and how he doesn’t even know about your ex-boyfriend. You think of your ex-boyfriend, and shaken espressos, and wakes, and how Jungkook’s the only person who’s been through all of that with you.

You think of how you graduate in less than a month, and you think of how Jungkook will have attended six of your graduations by that point. You think of Nayoung, how pretty she is, and how much you think she deserves him.

You wonder why you think you would ever deserve him, and you wonder why you thought it would end in anything but an eternal friendship; beautiful, intimate, but forever bound by the jagged cuffs of platonicity. You wonder if he, even for a fleeting moment — when you were tangled in his sheets, when you laughed at his stupid king-kong jokes at the Empire State Building, when you reached for his hand during the climaxes of horror movies, when your lips were fervent on his in that back alley — thought that this would go anywhere.

“Maybe we need to get you in that sobriety program, huh?”

If your voice cracks, you pray he doesn’t notice. You pray the laugh you get out of him is genuine, and you pray that he didn’t look at Nayoung so warmly, only to feel just as guilty as you had a month prior.

AJ has no idea why you’re at his apartment, nor does he have any idea as to why you’re drunk. It’s way too early in the day for you to be wasted; in fact, he distinctly remembers you telling him that you and Jungkook were going out, which is why you couldn’t make it to the lunch he had proposed.

Were you getting drunk at noon? He knows you like margaritas, but he also knows that you have an insane tolerance; how many did you drink to get you this —

“H- he doesn’t love me.”

You interrupt the tangent of his thoughts with a hiccuped, slurred out sentence, and his entire face contorts trying to decipher what you’re saying, and then why you’re saying it.

“Hey, hey — wait, come in, what are you saying? Who doesn’t love you?”

Your skin is warm under his touch as he gently tugs at your arm to pull you past the threshold of his door, and he tries not to look too hard at the way your lips glisten under the dim light of his entranceway. He tries not to notice the way your hair is a little messy, undoubtedly from the wind, and how pretty your collarbones look under the small top you’re wearing —

Jungkook.

You’re talking about Jungkook, and he knows this not because there’s literally nobody else you could be talking about, but because there’s nobody who could get you this upset by ‘not loving you’.

(Do you love him?)

He sits you down on one of the barstools he keeps in front his kitchen countertop, and you slump your head down onto your arms, mumbling incoherently.

(Do you love him?)

He pours out a glass of water for you, and pats your head gently, touch lingering for a second to give you even the slightest inkling of comfort in this outwardly distressed state.

You lift your head, eyes red-rimmed and glossy with tears.

AJ doesn’t feel like this often. He jokes about how the two of you grew up, devoid of the privilege of showing normal emotions, bottling them up and spilling them over textbook pages and only ever being allowed to feel happy upon seeing numbers scribbled in red at the top of test pages. He jokes about the two of you ending up in Ivy Leagues at the cost of having normal human feelings; he knows that he’s perceptive and sharp and he likes to think that he has you all figured out, but when you look at him like that, he knows that he doesn’t.

He doesn’t know why you told him to never make you a shaken espresso again, he doesn’t know what relationship you and Jungkook even have, he doesn’t know why you’re this upset over him not loving you.

He does, however, know that even if Jungkook doesn’t love you, he might.

AJ met you in your first year of law school, and he remembers thinking that you were the only person in the whole class who was fit to be his rival; you’d been only person other than him who’d gotten through the cold calls, the only person who’d read all the way to the end of the syllabus, the one person he would accept as a ‘rival’, like he was in a Viola Davis drama, if you may.

He’d spoken to you after class — a little cocky, a little smug — and you’d been nothing but sweet. Soft voice, pretty smile, quips that had him looking away to stop himself from laughing, he liked you immediately.

The two of you had really done everything together — studied at ungodly hours, called each other drunk to drive the other home, you had inside jokes and three years worth of memories, you’d helped him through breakups and he’d gotten you free coffee every week for a year now — the rapport he had with you was one he’d never ever expected, and the way he looked at you, felt about you, was something he’d never ever expected.

He had his girlfriends, and he told you about them while you’d answer with a curt joke about never having dated anybody, but he’d never ever looked at them like he looked at you. Never noticed the furrow in their brows when they read something hard to understand, never noticed their lopsided smiles and the way they’d drink, but never enough to really get them wasted. And the thing is, AJ hadn’t cared that he saw all of these things, because perceptive as he was, all you’d ever been to him was a brilliant girl who he’d be sure to keep up with after law school.

Right now, though? He knows. He knows why he noticed, he knows why it bothers him that you might love Jungkook back, he knows that you graduate soon and that he doesn’t have much time, and even if he did, it wouldn’t matter because you might love Jungkook back —

“AJ, Jungkook doesn't love me.”

“Yikes.”

He wants to say more. Wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter what Jungkook thinks, because I love you, and I think you’re incredible and I’ve spent the past 3 years ignoring it but I’ve never ever ignored you and I love you.

“He fucked Nayoung.”

AJ has no idea who that is, but he wants to sock Jungkook in the face for having this girl, this amazing girl with him for his entire life and fucking somebody else.

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry he did that, and I’m sorry you don’t know that I would never do that.

“He —“ you pause to sob: a soft, strangled noise that makes AJ’s stomach turn. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Do you love him?”

Say no. Say no. Say no. Say no. Say no.

“Fuck, AJ. He doesn’t —“ you don’t again, shoving your head back into your arms.

“Do you love him, though?”

AJ’s not sure why he’s asking, because he knows that there’s no way you’d be upset if he didn’t love you back. He thinks of it like a prosecution case; he’s gotten enough out of you on the stand that everybody can draw the conclusion but he has to get it out of you.

A surefire kill.

“Hm?”

Your eyes are bleary when you look up, half from crying and half from being the drunkest you’ve ever been. Your hair is still messy, and your lips are bitten red from all the quiet crying you’ve been doing. He can’t cry in his kitchen, not when you’ve been here laughing, not when his granite countertops hold years of your touch, not when you’re unraveling a foot away from him.

“I think I do, AJ. I really think I do.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry that I thought I could have you, when Jungkook’s always been the one you wanted.

“He used to be like, the one person —“ pause to hiccup. “I never thought I’d love like that. But we got closer after the fucking, shaken espresso day last month. And I guess the proximity j-just set it in.”

He can’t tell if the reason your words are so mangled in his ears is because the sound of his own heart crashing into his stomach is so loud, or because you’re slurring your words that much.

“Drink some water, please.”

Say you’re lying, please.

—

Jungkook doesn’t exactly know why you ordered another 3 margaritas in the middle of your lunch detour, and he doesn’t know why you stopped looking him directly in the eyes right after he told you that he’d had sex with Nayoung. He doesn’t know why you insisted on drinking when you never get to a point where being wasted is even an option, and he doesn’t know why you so fervently denied him walking you home.

He doesn’t know why he stays awake at night thinking of you, either.

Jungkook is surprisingly introspective for somebody who zones in and out of conversation so much, who is typically dazed and doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to picking up obvious hints thrown at him, but he knows himself quite well.

Better than you, he’d argue.

The sheets are warm around his waist, and he has one arm propped under his head as he stares at the ceiling, eyes wide without even a hint of sleep in the tresses of them, which is unusual for it being the middle of the night. He remembers how a month prior, all you’d ever been was his best friend. He remembers the little fall-out and how you’d gotten together for dinner, how pretty you’d looked and wonders why he’d focused on that when he simply never had done that before.

He remembers the day after, and how he’d taken another girl to bed. Jungkook remembers faint Bible verses about adultery, how he couldn’t get you out of his head, and he remembers what Nayoung had told him that night, as long as what she’d told him when they broke it off.

“I don’t think your job is all you need to figure out, Jungkook.”

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

“We’re in different places, clearly.”

He never thought about what she meant when they’d split; the pain of losing someone who’s memory he had literally etched into his skin was too imminent for him to even think about the ending scene. He also never thought about what she meant when she’d walked out of the fraternity room that day; he’d made up with you right after, and the following month was you, you, and more you. Focusing on Nayoung’s words and the small sliver of conversation they’d engaged in hadn’t even been an afterthought, at least until he’s brought her up today and you, like similar poles of a magnet, quite literally repelled him.

But really, what was she even talking about?

Why would there be a thing with you? Sure, the two of you were close, and sure, he’d probably talked about you and called you and FaceTimed you too much for her security, but he’d always thought the concept of him having a ‘girl best friend’ was what annoyed her, and not the notion that the two of you would have a ‘thing’.

Why would there be a thing with you? Sure, he idolized you and told her how smart he thought you were, but him and Nayoung were never official, and he’d only ever assumed that she was confused as to why he was always talking about some other girl after literally sleeping with her -

Oh.

It hits him like a shot to the heart, and he physically sits up to grab his phone because he has to confirm this sudden realization.

The look Mingyu had given him at the party shoots to the forefront of his brain, Nayoung’s words echo, and the way your resolve has crumbled when he told you about her suddenly makes a lot more sense.

In fact, it all makes sense.

I don’t think your job is all that you need to figure out.

She was talking about you. About how he was hung up on you and never even realized it —

We’re clearly in different places.

She was talking about you. About how she was willing to be invested with him, but the place he was stuck at, was you.

The ringing of his phone as he calls Nayoung seems louder than it usually is. It’s daunting, like he’s hoping she doesn’t pick up with each ring so he doesn’t have to face the reality he’s been unknowingly ignoring for… fuck, he doesn’t even know how long.

“Jungkook? It’s 2 in the morning. Are you okay?”

“Why did we break up, Nayoung?”

His voice is hoarse, and if he wasn’t so fucking stressed, he thinks about how proud you’d be for putting on the ‘interrogation voice’ you’d introduced him to in your second year of Law School.

“What?” Her laugh is quiet, laced with sleep, and Jungkook wonders if she should hang up and say sorry for waking her. “We weren’t really together, so I wouldn’t call it a break up —“

Her pause is long, and Jungkook doesn’t correct her, doesn’t bring up the tattoos and leather jackets and how they’d nearly eloped and the fact that they just had sex a month prior. She’s right, and he needs her to continue now.

“But I always assumed that you had something going on with __”

“You mean the time I called her after we got matching tattoos?” He can’t fight the urge to make the joke, even though it just dawned on him that you were, indeed, the straw on the camel’s back that broke him and Nayoung up. It just dawned on him that he might be in love with his best friend, and that he’d hurt Nayoung because of it, and that you might love him back.

Maybe.

He ignores that, and laughs wryly at the silly anecdote, thanking every religious figure he can think of when she also laughs.

“Yeah, that, but also just… your relationship. The way you obsessively talked about her and were literally always on call with her was one thing, but…” she pauses like she’s thinking about what to say next, how to describe the end of it all to him in a way that won’t flip his entire world around, not knowing that she’d already done that. Not knowing that you’d already done that.

“She came over once to pick us up when we got drunk. It was the same night I was talking about at the party, when we told Joon the closest thing to us was the moon? Yeah, ___ came and got us that night.”

“I knew right then, honestly. The way you looked at her was fucking insane. When you used to look at me, my friends would say that it was like I’d done every good thing in the world for you. But when you looked at her, it was like she’d saved you from every bad thing that could’ve ever happened to you. It was like, relief. Like you could let it all down in front of her. And I’d never been on the receiving end of that look; not ever when you were sober. Being like that and looking at her like that completely shitfaced? I knew I couldn’t stand in the way of the two of you, even if it literally killed me.”

He doesn’t process it immediately, choosing to focus on the last sentence, because feelings for you aside, he felt like the most massive douchebag in the world for making her feel that way.

“Nayoung, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I honestly — I had no idea, I really didn’t —“

“Jungkook, I know. And I know you’re probably trying not to drive yourself insane thinking of whether she loves you back.”

He definitely is, but he doesn’t tell her this in fear that it’ll just hurt her more.

“No it’s not like that, I’m just, so incredibly sorry that I put you through that, you deserve so much more, you deserve the relationship you want and I feel like shit —“

“What do you mean it’s not like that, Jungkook? You’re not thinking about whether she likes you back?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t think she loves you back?”

Do you love him back? Do you look at him like he’s saved you from every bad thing that could’ve ever happened to you? Do you? Will you ever?”

“I don’t… know?”

“When you called her that night, you tripped over your own feet. She knew exactly where we were based off of that.”

Summer of 2006.

The field he’d gotten wasted with Nayoung, except he only remembers you.

Remembers how you’d just gotten promoted up to the fourth grade, remembers how you were licking down the side of your ice cream cone; vanilla with sprinkles, as always. He had his mint chocolate chip, and your mothers were on a bench a couple of feet away from you.

The sun had made your hair look golden, your eyes were bright, and your smile was so pretty that he couldn’t hold your gaze for longer than three seconds. He remembers this, because he’d physically tripped over his own feet when you looked at him just a couple of seconds too long.

The small ‘oof’ that he’d let out when he’d fallen, damp grass and soil under his tender palms, knees tickled by the summer green just seconds later, the way you’d gasped and abandoned your ice cream cone on the ground to come tend to him, and your mothers rushing over too, laughing at how much you cared for him.

He’d always, always tripped over his own feet at that spot, always fallen with that little ‘oof’ and soon realized that it wasn’t really because he couldn’t make eye contact with you, but because there was a little hump in the ground at the spot he’d been standing at.

And you remembered.

You remembered even if the first time it happened was more than a decade and a half ago, you remembered even if you had grown out of visiting that field when you went to college.

“She remembered.”

“Yeah, Jungkook. Obviously she remembered. Because she loves you back, and it’s honestly making me more upset that the two of you haven’t worked it out yet.”

“Fuck, Nayoung. Fuck. Thank you. Thank you — I have to think about — fuck, I’m sorry it’s so fucking late and I’ve just called you and went on this weird self discovery path —“

Her laugh is bright when she cuts him off, and Jungkook feels part of his heart ease when he realizes that she’s not angry with him.

“Go to bed, talk to her tomorrow. I love you, Jungkook. And you love her and she loves you in a completely different way, but I love you. And don’t say sorry, I was up anyways.”

She hangs up after, not giving Jungkook space to even say goodbye, and simultaneously giving him a million different things to think about, but only one that he can really focus on: how he’s in love with you.

And how, apparently, you’re in love with him as well.

—

The beauty of New York City is the anonymity it provides, even amongst 8 million other people. Street bustle, skyscrapers kiss the clouds, floods of people drown you in the street, and even through all of that, you have the privilege of being alone. Solitude; a lighter flickering in a Brooklyn balcony, and the drip of water down in Harlem.

Tonight, you and Jungkook have the privilege of being alone, just 20 minutes away from each other, staring at the same film photograph of the both of you from the photobooth you’d stopped at a couple of weeks prior.

The grainy picture features four shots; your hair is damp, and Jungkook can still feel how it felt on his neck, your lips are a dark maroon, and Jungkook can still feel them hovering right above his. Jungkook’s in his leather jacket, and you feel the goosebumps on your arms from when the fabric brushed against your skin. His hair’s also wet from the rain, but the gel he still uses had kept it together surprisingly well; you remember the way you’d made fun of him for his incessant usage of the product.

The picture on the top right is a glamour shot, if anything. You’re smiling, and when he looks down at it, his chest blooms with a warmth akin to spring’s first bloom. He has a softer look; sporting the lopsided grin you’re so used to seeing, and it makes your stomach coil enough to make you physically look away and laugh.

Top left is a lot less serious, you remember he’d made a joke about the two of you being mafioso heirs, and it hadn’t even been that funny, but the picture features bright, childish, innocent grins. Your eyes are shut, smile spreading all the way across your face as you lean forward. His head is thrown back, lip piercing caught between his bottom lip when he laughs. The both of you hear each other’s laughter, echoing in the photobooth and across the empty, rain stricken streets of New York.

You think of how much you miss this, about how this day had inevitably been when you fell face first, defenseless with your guard all the way down. You think of the bottom left picture, not having the courage to look at it fully; you remember how you’d leaned into his body, and how he’d let you do it, how your lips had been just millimeters from touching when the flash had caught you off guard and you’d looked up straight into his eyes like something out of a Glen Powell rom-com.

Jungkook thinks of how much he misses this, about how this day had been one of the ‘moments he knew’, a collection that grows the more he thinks about how irrevocably in love with you he is. He thinks about the bottom right picture, how he’s looking at you and you’re fixing your hair, how he got the picture developed and still didn’t see the stars in his eyes, still didn’t realize that you were always the one.

The four photos are pressed to your heart. You haven’t had it in you to fall asleep, there’s still a full ache in your head from the alcohol and you make a note to thank AJ for getting you home safe today. A tinge of embarrassment shoots down your body when you think about the conversation you had with him today, the conclusion you’d reached, what you’d learned about Jungkook and Nayoung, what you’d learned about yourself; that you loved him, and he didn’t love you back, and how it made you want to die the more you thought of the month the two of you had.

The four photos are pressed to his heart. He wonders if they’ll soothe the ache or not knowing whether you love him, too. The phone he’s just put down should provide him with silence; fuck , he craves silence, but Nayoung’s words just echo in his head. Talk to her tomorrow, but he has no idea if you feel even remotely the same. He has no idea if he’s completely off base, he has no idea if he’s gotten the wrong ideas based off of the last month, and the guilt of potentially having taken your platonicity and genuine friendship as a lead eats him alive.

[But it can’t all be platonic, you think.]

[But it can’t all be platonic, he thinks. ]

No, you think. Because the alcohol might’ve made it easier, but you remember the way he tasted on your lips a little too well. The way his hands traveled down your shirt, sodden and soaked in the rain, caressing the curve of your waist. The way your own fingers had explored the figure of his shoulders, pressing into the hard plains of muscle as he moved his lips against yours too languidly to be a drunken detour.

No, he thinks. Because the drowsy haze of Sunday might’ve made it easier, but he remembers the way your leg was thrown over his thighs, the soft cotton of his own shirt hardly covering any of your legs, the rasp in your voice when you’d mumbled out his name, looking over you as he cooked. The way you’d laughed at his stupid dad jokes, and the way Mingyu had slapped his back after you’d gone, talking about the ‘way she looked at you’ — there’s no way it was just platonic.

There was nothing platonic about the way he’d held you in line at Liberty, the way he’d looked at you when you went up the fire escape when Mingyu had another girl over, the way you’d spoken, hushed into his skin the night you fell asleep at his place. Maybe falling in love, for the two of you, was like having your eyes closed while standing on the shore; maybe it was a wave that came crashing, rushing up your legs and soaking the two of you entirely before you even realized it. Maybe all the two of you had been doing, was enjoying the crashing of water ahead of you, ignorant to the receding waves and how dangerously close you were to being caught up in the mess your ignorance would inevitably bring.

And there you are —

Present day New York City, staring up at empty ceilings with full hearts, itching to reach for your phones with nothing but apprehension holding you back; what if he doesn’t love me, what if she doesn’t love me, what if I’m off-base, what if everything changes, 23 years down the drain, I have to tell her, I have to tell him. Alone, anonymous, lovers amidst millions others, feeling so much that you taste it on your tongues, feeling so much that you want to rip your beating hearts out; alone, anonymous, in love, in pain.

And there you are —

Begging the other not to go, because you’re so bad at being alone, but not being able to tell them why.

—

Cravath asks you to work in their London office after you graduate. It’s one of the perks of

consistently being at the top of your class, one of the perks of having an internship at the best law firm in all of New York, and it’s an opportunity you can’t say no to.

You figure it’ll help you get over this Jungkook fiasco, considering the fact that it’s basically a dead-end for you; you wonder if Watchell Lipton can refer AJ to a firm in London so you won’t completely be alone in a new city, you start to think about how wonderful it’d be to get some time away, to get space away from where you’d suffered such a big loss just a couple of years back — away from where you’d been pushed beyond every limit of yours since the first grade.

There’s nothing loss has taught you other than to put up walls, to close people off and to shut them out at any waking moment that you even come close to vulnerability. It’s not healthy, nor is it a quality you’re proud of; your stricken body’s last attempt at cushioning any further blows, any further losses from even those you claim to be the closest to you. It’s the reason you never told your parents about the intense stress their expectations put onto you, it’s why AJ doesn’t know about your ex but you know about all of his, and it’s the reason you’ve been ignoring Jungkook for a week now.

The realization that you were, in fact, madly in love with him had might as well carved through your skin to make its way into your system judging by the pain you’ve gone through since it’s hit you. You’re a rational adult, and loving someone is human nature, but loving your best friend and knowing that he doesn’t love you back should be something God implements in hell as punishment. You haven’t been able to look at the photo booth picture, have turned every photograph that reminds you of him around to avoid seeing it, have turned to sticking your head in your ridiculously heavy textbooks so you have a way to save face should Jungkook ever text you, and you’re sure that this game of shutting him out is going to be successful when you accept the job in London.

But you don’t.

For some reason, the drafted email accepting the position sits on your laptop, in a minimized tab that you open and contemplate hitting ‘send’ for hours on end, but never do. There’s a sliver of yearning — stupid, human yearning — that you wish you could just turn off, that tells you there’s a chance Jungkook might love you back. That tells you this situation will end with him running to you in the rain and kissing you under the stars, a grandiose recreation of the kiss you’d had almost a month ago now; the little voice in your head is your biggest vice, and you stare at the email over and over everyday, telling it to just shut up, telling you to get over yourself because he’s always loved Nayoung and you will never be her — never be that pretty, that put together, that kind or compassionate — and you tell yourself to just send the email.

Send it, burn this love you have with the littlest flicker of emotion you have left in your heart, move to London and start over. Reinvent yourself and learn to love properly, learn to love things that will love you back, learn to feel properly and not be so stringent on goals, learn to be human because it seems like you’d forgotten how to, until the realization that you love Jungkook barreled towards you like an avalanche of everything you never wanted to be.

Send it, and tell Jungkook. Take his little display of sadness and walk out of his life with the bitter taste of a confession that’ll never leave your lips still heavy on your tongue. Watch him in pictures like he’d watched you sleep, watch him fall in love with Nayoung eventually and move out because Computer Science has a killer starting salary, watch him pursue something he wants to do —

(“I think I really wanna do art. Sing, paint, do something that doesn’t involve binary code.”

“I think you should go for it. Stick it out till graduation and work for like a month because your starting salary is totally gonna support you even if you fail, and take the leap. Kierkegaard.”

“No idea what the fuck a ‘kira gard’ is.”

“Shut up.”

“You think I’ll be able to do it?”

“I think you’re the most talented person I know. If anyone can be an artist, it’s you.”)

If you love someone, let them go. And you want to do it so badly, a part of you craves the final sweet release of pain that New York City will give you before you escape it, but there’s another part that’s screaming in agony because you cannot do this to yourself, like your body fears that giving up someone you love so much that it physically hurts you to think about will be the final straw, that you’ll drop dead at JFK airport if Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he loves you, too.

If you love someone, let them go. Let them go, let them go. If you love yourself, let yourself go. Leave, and enjoy London and free yourself from a city that’s so beautiful that all you’ve done is loved it and the loneliness it’s handed you on a platter. If you love New York, let it go. If you let Jungkook, let him go.

You’re staring at the email again, and you can’t tell if you’re tearing up because of how long you haven’t been blinking, or if it’s because you know that when you finally click the send button, it’ll all be over.

You’ll be putting the fear of shaken espressos behind you, you’ll be putting Jungkook, New York, your parents, your entire life behind you; you’ll graduate in two weeks after finals, and you’ll grab nothing but your passport to go to London. It’ll be over, which is a thought that’s as daunting as it is relieving, but not because of your ex, not because of New York, or your parents —

It’s hard solely because you don’t want to put Jeon Jungkook behind you. The first person you’d ever talked to about how burnt out you were, the first person to sleep under the same sheets with you, the only person to eat a meat lovers pizza at 2Bros, the only person you let your guard down with, the only person who’d ever seen you cry, the only person you’d ever been in love with. The photographs you’ve turned around, the permanent imprint of his lips on yours, the way his hand found purchase on the small of your back, his heartbreaks and your biggest loss, the strum of his guitar back in middle school when you’d blushed under his gaze for the first time, the way he rubs at his nape when he’s embarrassed, his smile, the way he trusts you with his life — you’d sooner die than call it quits on those memories, but it’s even harder to imagine living with them, knowing that he’s never going to feel the same way about it.

Your heart is heavier than it's ever been, even if you’ve been carrying the weight of your own world for the past 17 years at least, without putting it down even for a second. You’re sure you’re crying, if the way the words on your screen blur is any indication. Your left side aches the same way it had a month ago when he told you about Nayoung, and you wonder if that pain will ever go away if you leave.

Your fingers tremble when they clasp the mouse, and you decide that the pain is something you’ll have to live with. It’s the melancholy it’ll leave in your eyes that’ll make strangers fall in love for you and never quite forget; it’s the edge of having to walk away from something, from the only thing, you’ve ever loved, that’ll make you a strong lawyer. Unattached, a bit desolate, and incredibly strong, but only when working. It’ll be this mistake that’ll prevent you from making others, it’ll be this mistake that’ll make you fall harder for whoever will come next; that’ll teach you to cherish those who love you back.

(You fall back onto your bed and break down.)

(You send the email minutes after you’re done crying.)

(You figure you’ll tell Jungkook the day after. That you’ll apologize. For everything.)

(You figure Jungkook’s going to cut you off for not telling him before sending the email.)

(You figure it’s for the best.)

—

Jungkook feels like his heart is being torn from his chest, inch by inch so he feels the surface of his skin ripping, so he feels the blood dripping down his chest and soaking his shirt, so he can feel the poison in his veins, can feel the thump of the organ when it’s pulled out of his body.

You’re leaving.

“You’re leaving?”

You’re leaving.

He loves you, and you’re leaving in two weeks and he’s trying so hard to not look like he’s in unfathomable, unspeakable, unrelentless pain that leaves him wanting to get on the floor of his apartment and claw at his chest so he can scrape some of the ache away.

He clenches his fingers into fists and refuses to look at you.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I thought I’d tell you but finals had me busy —“

You’re fucking lying to him, too. You’re leaving, and he loves you and you’re lying. You weren’t busy with finals, you were ignoring him for whatever godforsaken reason, you were cooped up in your apartment overthinking and fixating on whatever he’d told when the two of you had brunch, and you were doing it on purpose.

Fucking finals.

Your go-to excuse for shutting people out and putting up walls that nobody will ever be allowed to break down. He thought he’d be the first to, he thought he’d already broken them, plowed through the cement when he’d kissed you in a back alley, when he’d held you in his arms after the wake, when he’d bought you your coffee and gotten the order correct, when he had you in his bed. He thought he’d broken them, but he’d been wrong; he hadn’t done shit to stop you from holding yourself away from the world, he hadn’t done shit to help you face vulnerability instead of ignoring it in favor of not facing anyone at all, he hadn’t done shit to get you out of your stupid fucking law school shell, and he was in love with you despite this one tiny flaw, and he knew everything about you, so he knew you were lying.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re fucking lying to me.”

Your scoff is incredulous and it makes Jungkook want to pull his hair out and drag his blunt fingernails down his face until he’s bleeding out to show you; I care, stop pushing me away, why are you leaving, you don’t know I’m in love with you, why, why, why, why —

“I’m not lying, you know I have finals — you have my planner!”

“No. No, you’re not fucking doing this again. In sophomore year, you were upset because of something your dad said and locked yourself in your room for three days straight. You said you had finals back then. After your fucking boyfriend died, you locked yourself in your room and said you had finals. Whenever you’ve been scared, or humiliated, or had any semblance of fucking human emotions, you’ve said you have —“

“Jungkook, you have no fucking right to bring that up now, what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong with me is you! You decide you’re leaving the only place you’ve ever lived in within the week I last saw you and didn’t even think to discuss it with me? Even after the month we’ve had — even after the life we’ve had?”

You stare at him, and he can see the redness in your eyes like he had seen before you broke down at the wake.

He wants to get down on his knees and put his forehead to your feet and apologize, hold you and never let you go.

You’re leaving.

“It’s my life, not yours.”

“It’s my life, too. You know this.”

“No. I don’t fucking know this, because I’ve worked my ass off for the past 17 years to get to law school and graduate and work at the best fucking law firm in the country. It’s not your fucking life —“

“You’ve killed yourself for all this—”

You stand up from his couch, and turn away so he doesn’t see your tears fall.

“You’ve fucking killed yourself. You worked like a dog since middle school to get into that pretentious private school, and you worked even harder to get to Columbia. You never had a fucking dream, you never had a childhood because you killed yourself to get to this point. You never had time to have a fucking ‘life’ or whatever you call it because all you’ve ever done is work for some stupid fucking goal.”

You sob once, twice, and Jungkook has to put a hand to his heart so he doesn’t die on the spot.

“And you can’t tell me that I don’t know this because I’m the only one who knows this! I’m the only person you’ve ever told about this and it fucking hurts because I love you, and it fucking hurts because you’re leaving me —“

“Because my best friend is leaving me,” he backtracks.

Best friend. Because you don’t know, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to have the heart to tell you.

“And it hurts because my best friend is leaving me and she didn’t even think to mention this before.”

“You didn’t think to mention Nayoung even once in this aforementioned ‘month’ we had,” the quotes you make with your fingers do nothing but show him how much you’re shaking. He wants to grab your hands and tell you that it’s okay; that you don’t need to cry and that he has you.

That he’ll always have you.

(But he won’t, because you’re leaving.)

You’re leaving, and you’re talking about Nayoung for some reason.

“Yeah, because we had sex one fucking time! I don’t even like her, why the fuck would I bring her up — and why are you bringing her up like fucking a girl is anywhere similar to moving halfway across the world.”

You sob once, twice, and when you turn around to face him, he feels like he’s holding his dead heart in his cold hands and watching it try to come to life.

“I’m bringing it up because you love her, and you didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“I don’t fucking love her.”

I love you. I love you, why do you think I love her —

Why do you think he loves Nayoung, and why does your face fall when you say it, and why did you start to ignore him the day he told you that he’d had sex with her?

“You do. She’s the one that got away, and she’ll be here so it doesn’t fucking matter —“

“Stop saying that it doesn’t matter. Stop saying that you don’t matter.”

“Because I don’t, Jungkook,” a sob breaks your sentence and it feels like his world has just come crashing down when he realizes how you feel about yourself. “I’ve lived here for 23 years and nobody knows shit about me and you’re right, it’s because I shut myself away, but nobody bothers anyways and I’ve worked so hard to get here so I’m gonna take the chance to leave, so I don’t have to not matter anymore, so I can like… change.”

“You don’t have to change, ___”

Your name on his lips is a prayer, a silent hope to the god he only remembered when he was fucking somebody, a plea and the final chance he gets to have you.

“Don’t change, __”

Don’t let her leave me, God. Don’t let her change, don’t let her go.

“How can you ask that of me?”

He hears his mothers laugh from when he told her he wanted to be a ninja. He decides that he doesn’t want to be a ninja, or a computer science major, or an artist. He decides that he wants you to know how madly in love with you he is.

“Because I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

“No — fuck, I’m in love with you.”

Your stare is dumbfounded, like he’s just told you that he’s a vampire hybrid or something else completely unorthodox. He would laugh at the look typically, but he feels empty, like the compression that had been a steady pressure on his chest for the past few days had lifted, only to be replaced with a pain unlike any other, because what if this messes it up more?

What if you would originally go to London and keep tabs with him and be in his life, and what if he’s told you this and turned you off the idea of ever even looking in his direction again.

What if you don’t love him back?

“You’re in love with me.”

He nods, silently swallowing as he tries to whisper a prayer to whatever god is listening that whatever you say won’t end in you leaving for good.

“You’re in love with me?”

“I am. I have been. I am. I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you, and I don’t even remember how long it’s been since it first happened.”

“Jungkook —“

You chuckle, and it should break his heart because it seems like you’re on the road to mocking him, but he feels his heart rejuvenate in his arms when he hears the sound of your laugh. It sounds like a metaphor he’s been trying to write down for ages. It sounds familiar, it sounds intimate, and his name rolling off your tongue is a balm he presses over the open wound of his chest to soothe it.

“Jungkook — you’re in love with me, and not Nayoung?”

He can’t speak, isn’t used to the lightness in his chest.

He shakes his head, and he swears he sees the world light up behind your eyes. He swears you’re the prettiest girl in the entire world, even when tears track down your face and even when you’re red-eyed and have a snotty nose from crying.

(Especially then.)

“Fuck.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m in love with you too. I am. I have been. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been in love with you for as long as —“

You won’t finish that sentence, he decides, taking one long stride towards you to close the distance between your bodies. Your face in his hands is warm, a little sticky from the tears, and your lips are chapped. He doesn’t doubt that he’s in any better of a condition, but you look up at him through your wet eyelashes and he’s had enough.

He’s had enough of yearning, and pleading, and wondering if you love him back because you do. He’s had enough of waiting and wondering why he keeps thinking of you because he wants to think of you.

In fact, he thinks he’s open to thinking of you forever.

So he kisses you, and he thanks his lucky stars when you kiss back, for blessing him with the embodiment of them in the form of you, a girl who shone so brightly that he couldn’t see the love cooped up in her eyes until she cried, told him she was moving to London, and kissed him in his living room.

He thinks he could die happy, but he doesn’t want to die when he finally has you.

Finally has you.

(Except, you could be leaving.)

Jungkook ignores this because you tilt your head so his lips slot against yours better, and he can barely focus on anything other than the way you feel and the fact that he’s kissing his best friend — kissing the love of his life.

He bared his heart and walked through hell for this, and if the way he feels right now is redemption, he’d do it all over again.

—

It starts with you on a table, umbilical cord freshly cut, wrapped up in a pretty pink fluffy blanket. Jungkook, just a one year old, stares blankly, and starts crying in his mothers arms.

It starts in the suburbs of New York City, where you lose yourself between textbook pages and Jungkook wonders what he’ll ever amount to being.

It starts with your boyfriend dying, and the way shaken espressos feel on your tongue. It starts with Jungkook seeing you cry for the first time, and it starts with you wondering if you can ever love someone.

It starts with law school, and a three week gap in your final year during which you and Jungkook don’t talk. He finds himself thinking of you, and you text him, asking to meet up for dinner.

It starts with him asking you about a friend of yours, and you getting vigorously upset, uncalled for and downright appalling on Jungkook’s part.

It starts with you calling him to apologize while he makes a drunken mistake. It starts with you meeting him to apologize and promising to do better; it starts with him telling you that he doesn’t need you to ‘do better’ like it’s a standardized test — that he just needs you to talk to him.

It starts with an amazing month, trailblazing and falling for each other, starts with drunken kisses and getting soaked in the rain and the ruse of being ‘best friends’ and drinking margaritas even though Jungkook doesn’t really like cocktails. It starts with the city of New York, and the anonymous back alleys where millions walk, but nobody lingers long enough to leave a mark.

It starts with him telling you about this drunken mistake, starts with the both of you realizing how madly in love you are with the other. It starts with you accepting a job in London, and it starts with Jungkook calling his ex and figuring out that it’s always been you.

It starts with an argument encased in the walls of his living room, where you empty your heart out and he empties his, starts with accusations that he loves somebody else and utter silence because he can’t tell you that he loves you.

There’s a million beginnings to this story, thousands of waking moments that could’ve been the moment both of you knew, hundreds of little sparks that ignited into the brilliant flame of the love between the two of you, but there’s only one ending.

This is the end of yearning; his lips are on yours, and his warm hands are holding your body like if he lets go, you’ll really be gone. His hands find purchase on every inch of you like he’s trying to map your very existence out with his ten fingers, and you lose yourself when he licks into your mouth, your own hands flying to his face, tracing the little scar beneath his eye, scratching over his sideburns, on an excavation of your own; to discover him and to never let go.

He has you pushed up against the kitchen counter, large hands groping you through your jeans, soft squeezes at the flesh, quiet moans coloring the air when you move your tongue in tandem with his.

Jungkook promises himself to take it slow, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to honor that thought when your manicured nails play with the hair at his nape, when he feels you pull away so you can get a better look at him —

Fuck, are you a sight to see. Red rimmed eyes, swollen lips, cheeks dusted with the slightest hues of pink; you wear a smile so pretty he thinks he could fall for you all over again, and your warm breath hits his face with every exhale.

You think he’s never looked better, either. His lips are bitten from kissing you, tear tracks down his soft skin, jaw tight and eyes dark when he looks at you as though he’s trying to drink you in like you’re a glass of fine scotch. You rub your thighs together, desperate for some friction to provide even a fraction of relief from this innate need Jungkook’s instilled in you with just one kiss, and he catches your lips in another, clearly wanting this to go the same way you do.

Jungkook encases your face in his hands, he feels you keen against his lips and releases yours to curse lowly. Your hands travel down his chest, toned and warm from hours at the gym, and trace down the trail of hair you know leads down into his underwear. It has him bucking his hips against you lightly and you can barely hold back a moan, readjusting your focus so you can trace the denim of his waistband, letting two of your fingers slip beneath the fabric, rubbing at the elastic of his boxers —

You’re a fucking tease, and Jungkook should’ve known this about you after 23 years but he’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t thoroughly enjoyable. It’s barely been 5 minutes of you fervently making out with him, though, that he realizes how badly he wants you. The bulge in his pants is one indication, but he’s utterly surrounded by you — your cologne, your soft sounds, breathless whimpers, incredulous gaze like you can’t really fathom this; he gets it, he’s horrified that he’ll wake up in his bed and you won’t love him back and you won’t be kissing him and feeling him up like this, and he needs to feel you, needs the reaffirmation, needs you to fall apart between his sheets. He needs everything you have to offer, needs to smell your shampoo on his pillowcases and your perfume on his shirts and he might as well should just die if he’s waited this long to stall some more.

Two hands trail down your back, pads of his fingers pressing into the little dimples at the bottom of your spine before they land on the junction of your thighs. His eyes are stuck on yours, like he’s too afraid to even look away, and you smile against his jaw.

“Jump, baby,” it’s a whispered order, too silent for anybody but you to have heard it, and the thought makes your brain go numb for a second — it’s you and him now, your whispered secrets and hushed tales, it’s the two of you and this space you’ve curated, even if it was out of your own heartbreak. You can’t do anything but oblige; fuck, you might as well should just die if you don’t hang on to every word that leaves the tip of his tongue.

Your legs find home around his waist, and he carries you to his room, telling his high school self and college self and every single past existence of his that you’re his. He’s mapping out this floor with you in his arms, and though they’ve been around many women, he doesn’t think any one of them have fit like you do. It’s simple intimacy, you can see sunlight pouring into the living room as he carries you out, you see the art he has framed, and you see traces of his roommate strewn around the apartment. You wonder what his and your apartment will look like, wonder if he’ll like the interior design you do, and decide that if he doesn’t, you’ll let him choose whatever.

The door to his room shuts behind you, and you notice the only photo frame he has contains a picture of the two of you.

Your eyes tear away from the glass frame in fear of breaking down again, and you choose to look at him. You choose to look at his eyes that hold all the stars in your skies, you choose to run your finger over the curve of his face and the slant of his nose and his Cupid’s bow. You choose to bask in his presence, feel all of his body pressed against you and feel him uncomfortably hard against your thighs — it’s a bit filthy, but you’ll take anything when it comes to Jungkook, and you let that thought linger when you lean forward to kiss him again.

Jungkook closes his eyes because he doesn’t think he can look into yours without going insane. He hasn’t shut his curtains, so the sunlight lands on your face and highlights all the angles and all the slopes and he thinks that he should memorize the planes of your face, that it’ll give him a reason to stay alive. Your lips smack softly, and he readjusts his hips so he can grind the clothed bulge in his jeans against your own, and his thighs stutter just a smidge when you let out the sweetest moan he’s ever heard in his life.

His fingers trail their way down from your waist, pulling gently at the hem of your shirt, a silent final exit just in case you want to back out, but you don’t let him even consider the thought of you leaving when you pull your own shirt off your head. It’s an aggressive jerk, one that catches him off guard and following you, abandoning the piece of clothing somewhere in the corners of his room.

Even when you’re just in your bra, he can’t stop looking at your eyes. He can’t stop thinking of you, how you’re in his bed and how he has you with him now and how he’ll have you with him forever if he has anything to do with it. Jungkook never doubted that you were attractive, not even for a slight second, but he doesn’t dare look at you, near naked and in all your glory in front of him — he wonders if this is what Icarus felt like, wanting to fly so close to the sun because he loved Helios too much, and he vows that he’ll be careful, he won’t look too quickly and that he’ll be gentle because he cannot stand even the idea of losing you, even if he’d be the one crashing and burning.

You pull him closer by the name, and his hands go to cradle your bare shoulders. Before he can even process the proximity, your lips are on his neck, and they’re soft, warm: they’re everything he’s ever wanted and he feels like he’s been set aflame because he’s lived his whole life not really knowing what he wanted, but he knows now. Your lips on his skin are the tantalizing fruit that's been dangling behind his head the whole time and he can see it, can feel it and he can feel it; all he’s ever wanted is you, and he lets himself go, voice breathy and untethered to his own self as he moans, incoherent pleas for you to keep going.

Jungkook prays he’ll see marks tomorrow, if this is even real. He prays that you leave a tangible sign, a purple bruise on his golden skin as a reminder that this was once real. If you leave after he’s made love to you, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to recover from it, but if you leave your mark; the indent of your teeth and the faded stain of your lipstick, he thinks it’ll be enough to satiate him.

You’re not one to waste time, apparently, fingers tracing down his abs agonizingly fast before Jungkook can process the touch, reaching for the button on his jeans so he can be free, get inside you, because it’s been way too fucking long and you need him sheathed within your body like you’re entwined, like you’re one entity. You reckon the thought is one of the filthiest ones you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t matter, because you can feel yourself soaking through your panties and you run cold like ice, wanting him to melt you — needing him to melt you.

This will be your new beginning; fuck London, you decide. Fuck London if it means you have him like this, the pads of his fingers running like feathers over your skin, leaving chills in their wake. This will be your new beginning, his lips grazing over your collarbones as he grinds his hips into yours just hard enough for you to feel through your jeans. This will be your new beginning, desperately bucking your hips up to meet him halfway, to gain some much needed friction until he decides to stop giving you the tantalizing guise of what you need, until he decides to unbutton your jeans with daft digits,, pulling them until you lay before him in all your glory.

Jungkook has never known religion until he sees you like this. The curves of your body and the slope of your waist and the way your bra just barely covers your breasts and the way your panties sit on your hips and your collarbones illuminated by the sun that desperately laps at your soft skin like it, too, wants to have you wholly. He has never known a God until he thanks Him for you, thanks his lucky stars that he has you in front of him, fights the urge to sink to his knees and pray that you don’t disappear into a brilliant beam of light like you were nothing but a figment of his imagination.

His cock strains, and he reaches out to stroke the lace of your panties so gently, almost like he’s afraid to leave a mark, though he yearns for yours on his skin. You want to ink the calluses of his fingers so they leave permanent imprints on your body, so you feel the rough drag forever, but it's only an afterthought when he begins to rub at your clit through the fabric. The added friction feels like heaven on your tongue, like you can taste the waning of yearning on the tip of your tongue –

“Fuck, Jungkook,” your voice sounds dazed in your own ears, and he shifts your panties aside to rub your wetness all over your sex, thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. If there was a way to put the bliss, the desperation into words, you’re sure that you could talk for hours. You hear his breathing, heavy like he’s incredulous, in utter disbelief, and you hear the unrecognizable keens of his name.

“I know, baby. I know, I love you. Lemme have you.”

He repeats it like a prayer, those three words running like water off his tongue as he rubs tight eight-figures of your clit. Eyes raking your figure, he drinks in the tilt of your head backwards, a tattoo on your shoulder blade that he makes a note to ask you about, the bend of your elbows and the way your stomach tightens. Jungkook tries to take his time, but his fingers are drenched in your arousal and he deems you wet enough to slip his index finger in.

You moan, high and unadulterated, and he moans, low and throaty; it feels like you’re complete, and he can’t help but wonder how your walls would feel on his cock. You suck him in, pussy greedy for something to fill it, and he does his best to affirm this when he bends down to catch your lips within his again –

“Shit, doll, you’re soaking me… look at your sweet cunt, look at how she’s taking me,” he uses his free hand to tilt your chin downwards, and the pink of your bitten lips distracts him for just a second before he pushes another finger in.

“Jungkook – ah, fuck, more please, more,” you let your mind go adrift, thinking about how good you feel and then thinking of nothing at all when he curls his fingers in an upwards motion, rendering you speechless and fucked silly. The thought of what his cock would do is lost among a myriad of unsullied pleasure, and you don’t know whether it's because you haven’t cum in so long, but you’re dangerously teetering over the edge of your release, continuing to beg him to just throw you over.

He tells you he has you, eases another finger in until the tears that prickle the corners of your eyes finally spill over. He licks them away, rutting his hips up into his free hand like it gets him off, seeing you cry for him, seeing you writhe under him. He knows it's too much, knows that you’re close like he’s done this a million times before, like your body is his own.

“I’m f– fuck, so fucking close,” you can feel the coil in your lower belly so close to snapping that it makes you want to run away from the feeling. It’s all too much, because his thumb feels rough on your clit and his fingers are jackhammering into you like he has a point to prove, because he’s calling you his and his voice is echoing somewhere in the back of your mind, because all you can do is squirm and push your hips up to get yourself over the precipice of pleasure –

“Fu- fu- uck, Jesus –”

“I gotchu honey, let go for me, just let go, ‘m always hare, let go for me –”

What you expect to be a wave, crashing into you like the realization that you loved him had, is nothing but a soft roll of ecstasy taking ahold of every inch of your skin. It starts in your head, numbing your senses and then heightening them, makes its way down to your arms until you’re clawing at Jungkook’s because it’s so fucking good, rolls down your legs until you clench your toes, grapples at your throat until your voice is choked out and all you can do is pant helplessly. What you expect to be a wave is a slow pulse that leaves you breathless and staring up at Jungkook who seems to be mesmerized by the expression you’re wearing, fingers slowing within you as he helps you ride it out.

“Fucking hell, baby. You’re stunning,”

You laugh, out of it and incredulous as he presses a kiss – too chaste for the mind-blowing orgasm he’s just given you – to your temple.

“Gonna make me do that everyday, Jeon?”

“You can count on it, angel. I’ll make you do that every single day.”

The two of you move in tandem, knowing that this wasn’t nearly enough to satiate you both; your hands fly to his jeans, pulling his zipper down and yanking the fabric off of his legs. Jungkook’s laugh is breathy, pupils still blown out as he watches you try to get him naked and he lets you.

He lets you strip him until his skin is bare, watches you rake your eyes over his figure and pause at the ink of his arms. He vows to tell you about all the secret tattoos he’s gotten that remind him of you; that he got because of you, but all he can focus on is the way your eyes go dazed and glossy when you push down his boxers to pull his cock out.

You’re well aware that Jungkook is beautiful, and he’s never doubted his physical appearance for more than a split second since college, but he never thought that his dick would be the center of said attention. Fuck, he has a pretty cock; it’s thick and your mouth waters at the angry vein running down the underside of it, desperate to get your mouth on him and savor the weight of him on your tongue. It curves up, pretty mushroom tip having been rendered a dark red from when he was getting you off, the pearly beads of pre-cum that spill over the sides of it when you rub your hand over his length a stark contrast.

He buckles over, hand splaying over your stomach as he lets out a choked groan at the contact, and you can feel the wetness of the sheet underneath you as you see him lose himself underneath your touch. You could do this forever, and the inexplicable urge to just get him in your mouth takes over your body reflexively, but Jungkook doesn’t let you act on it; his warm fingers press down on your skin, and he lets his free hand replace yours on his cock.

“Gonna fuck you real good, darling. You’re gonna feel it all the way — shit — all the way up to here,” he pumps his cock like he’s trying to deprave himself of your pussy on purpose and your eyes desperate search for his, no longer trusting your brain to form adequate words to explain just how badly you need him to fuck you.

He knows, he knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows how much you need and crave this. Just as quick as he’d gotten your hands off of him, he presses himself to your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your embarrassingly wet slit. The squelching would typically have you curl in on yourself, but it’s Jungkook, and you’ve let every wall down around him and it feels so fucking incredible when he rubs his dick against your sensitive clit that you just cannot bring yourself to care;

“Please, please Jungkook —“

“I know, I know baby, shhh… just relax for me and I’ll make this so good, ‘kay? That’s my girl,” the hand on your stomach goes lax when you exhale, letting him align himself with your entrance and ease himself in.

He gets his tip in with surprising deftness, rubbing over your torso when you tense your body. He knows you’re not a virgin, he’s done this before and so have you, but with each other? It feels holy, like you’re coming back to earth and coming back to the person each of you is meant to be with.

His inked hand goes to cradle your face, pushing your hair away from your tear-stricken skin, kissing away at the new tears that threaten to slip from your eyes. You breathe out at his touch, and he pulls out all the way to thrust back into you, slipping in and filling you all the way to the brim.

A choked moan leaves you, and your simultaneous gasps color the air, mingling and dissipating as the two of you mold into one entity. Jungkook forgets the Bible verses about adultery, things of new beginnings and redemption and how you’re the Holy Grail he tried so hard to find when you were right there. He curses himself for not doing this earlier, for realizing so late, but it’s all so worth it when you give an experimental roll of your hips, bucking upwards to get him to move.

Jungkook thinks he would give you anything, take chunks out of the moon if you so looked at it with desire, and he thinks that he’ll lay his body down for you if you even implied that you wanted him to. He thrusts into you, a gritty moan leaving his throat when he feels your walls, warm and wet and fluttering around his cock. Your pussy is greedy for him, milking his every drop and he knows you can feel him, knows you feel everything.

He’s right, too, because the veins of his cock, every ridge and every edge of it is fully sheathed within you. When his shallow thrusts get longer, deeper, when he bucks his hips upwards to fuck you just right, when you look down at his hand and see the bulge of his cock in your stomach — fuck, it’s exhilarating, and he seems to notice it too, following your gaze and letting his hips lose their well adjusted rhythm for just a split second.

“G-god Jungkook, so fucking full — shit.”

“Yeah, you are. Fuck, fuck, I told you. Told you I’d fill your greedy little cunt up.”

You think this is the only side of Jungkook you haven’t seen, so when he continues to talk, confidence and this natural allure of dominance absolutely dripping off of him, you thank whatever deity is up there for letting you have him.

“Look at you, tsk tsk. Baby, you kept this pretty pussy away from me for so fucking — shit — long?”

His moans are nothing compared to the high keens, pornographic breathy whimpers that leave your throat. It’s like he’s ripped off every barricade you put up in front of you, has you naked and bare and begging in his sheets like you were made for this, fucks you like your pussy was made for this.

“How’d you keep her satisfied without me, darling?”

He leans down, hands still playing with your hair and holding onto your face in a way that you know will leave pink fingerprints — in a way that makes you wonder if he even believes this is real, grasping onto you so he can reassure himself that you’re tangible. You see the knot in his brows, feel the murmur of his words against your jaw when he presses his lips to the bone, catch the tension in his abdomen as he tries to keep his rhythm.

You’re sure he won’t have to, though, because there’s something about the way he’s leaning down into you, the way he’s thrusting into you so deep, never slow but never too fast, the way he snakes one hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, knowing he won’t be able to last long inside of you. All of it has your head spinning, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever experience anything this riveting, this revitalizing before. It feels like you’re closer to being born again with every thrust, with every bit of the coil in your stomach tightening —

He presses his forehead to yours, thumb rubbing circles onto your clit, cock prodding against just the right spot like he’s practiced this only for you, only for you. Your eyes meet, and you see tears in the corner of his own eyes, you feel his hand trembling in your hair as he tries to leave traces of his prints on every inch of you — you lock your legs around his waist, and the new angle is like the straw on the camel’s back as you’re thrown so violently over the edge that it catches you off guard.

This one is a wave, drenching you and drenching his cock and the sheets and the miles of skin that connect the two of you. He lets out a deep groan, lips connecting to the column of your throat when you throw your head back, nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders so as to lessen the blow.

Fuck, he wants you to leave his back scratched and bloody, needs a reminder of this rebirth; needs the sting of you permanently imprinted if it on his body, then in his brain.

You get the memo, clearly, running the sharp acrylics up and down the toned expanse of his back as you just barely catch your breath — it comes in pants, the achy pleasure of overstimulation creeping its way up your spine.

If he doesn’t come inside of you, it’ll be his biggest regret. You’re smart, he knows you’re on the pill and he knows you would’ve told him to pull out, wouldn’t have had your legs wrapped around his waist if you didn’t want this just as bad as he did, but he opens his mouth to ask anyways.

“Come inside, baby. I — fuck. I fucking love you, I’ll love you forever, come inside of me, please.”

The deliriosity of your orgasm, along with the continuous sensation of being fucked senseless as Jungkook loses his rhythm and resorts to jackhammering into you, chasing his high like you’re nothing but a toy to do it; all of it pushes you into overdrive and you babble, begging for him to finish inside like it’s the only thing you can think of.

He doesn’t dare look away from your face, mapping every second within his brain, feeling the familiar feeling of an orgasm washing its way up to shore. He’s sure you’re on the same page, too, recognizing the face he’s seen twice now etch itself back onto your features —

You cum for a third time when his hips stutter and he buckles over your body, hand never moving from your head, cradling it like the contact is keeping him grounded. You feel the warm ropes of his cum paint your insides, and the third orgasm is nowhere near as intense as the others, just a gentle pulsation of pleasure and a bout of love that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before blooming over your heart.

Jungkook collapses next to you, dirty sheets be damned when he throws his inked arms over your body. For a while, neither of you find it in yourselves to talk — it’s barely even the orgasms, more so the fact that the two of you are best friends who are madly in love with each other, the fact that you’ve just told each other this and then proceeded to have the most mindblowing sex the either of you could even imagine, all within the span of an hour or so.

He’s first to make a move, lifting your chin so you look at him, smiling down at you so gently that you feel every bit of insecurity — every worry that’s already clouding your mind about the future, London, all of it — disappear.

You match his gaze, trying to read what is so clearly written in his eyes. I love you, they say, twinkling brighter than the golden rays of sunshine that pour through his poorly strewn curtains. It’s hard to speak so you don’t, opting to reach up and slot your mouth against his.

Jungkook swears he’s been given a second chance at life when you kiss him, and he decides to plan it out better this time. The thought goes away quicker than he’d like, though, because you slip your tongue into his mouth and his brain short circuits for the umpteenth time that day. It’s hard to imagine anything being difficult if you kiss him like this, it’s hard to imagine struggle, hard to imagine dissatisfaction, hard to imagine not being in love with every waking moment of his life when he’s this madly in love with you.

You pull away.

“I’m not worried, by the way.”

He grins, leaning into your smaller frame to press a kiss against the junction of your shoulder.

“I know. I’m not either.”

“We‘re gonna make it work?”

“Yeah. Of course. It’s us, ___. We’ll make it work.”

—

Jungkook doesn’t like summer, but he thinks you make it better. You graduate law school a week after he graduates college, and he’s in the front row watching you give your high honors speech before getting your degree. You tell Cravath that you can’t work in London, and ask AJ if he’s willing to quit Wachtell Lipton and take your place.

He tells you that he thinks he’s in love with you, that he’s happy you’ve found love with Jungkook, and takes the job.

You decide to give New York a second chance that summer; decide to give yourself a new beginning as you start to work and don’t immediately take immense bouts of stress upon yourself. Jungkook thinks about what he really wants to do, and though he takes a job that is gratuitously well paying – bless the Comp Sci starting salary – he thinks he wants to freelance art on the side.

–

When fall rolls around, you stand in the kitchen with your mother. The two of you look out at Jungkook and your father turning pages of old photo albums, and she tells you that she’s proud of you. You wonder if this is what it feels like to be avenged. It gets colder, and Jungkook gets you all the white mochas you want to drink, especially when you drive up to the cemetery to see your ex in early October. The two of you lay down orange roses, and you tell him that you’ll always love him in a way nobody else knows – Jungkook is proud, you’re proud, and for the first time in years, your heart doesn’t feel heavy when he drives around that part of town.

Jungkook paints portraits of you in the living room of the apartment you share. The two of your extremely well-paying jobs had let you buy a penthouse in Greenwich Village, and you’re just grateful you can find someplace to call home. Speaking of living together, Mingyu had enrolled himself into a sobriety program when Jungkook had forced him to watch that TED Talk, only this time neither of them had been high.

You tell Jungkook’s parents, too, and their excitement is nowhere near as gentle as your parents’ had been. His mom cries, and his dad tells you that he’s been rooting for you and Jungkook for ages.

(As it turns out, Jungkook had been rooting for him and yourself for ages as well.)

–

Winter follows, encasing New York in an icy chill but your heart has never been warmer. You have a classic NYC Christmas, doing all the insanely cliche tourist activities that are manageable. Nayoung moves out of state as well, and Jungkook cries into her shoulder at the airport. You’re there with him every second of every day – baking cookies, forcing him to take notes when the two of you watch Die Hard together for the first time, in his sweaters, in his sheets, in his heart.

Jungkook’s art sells well, he loves this city, and he still loves getting 2Bros with you – he even forces you to get the meat pizza he’s devoured for years, and you decide that while it’s not so bad, that you’ll continue to make fun of him for it. A tradition, just like the coke floats you still buy in sub-zero temperatures.

He makes you a shaken espresso in February, and you tell him it tastes incredible.

You stop putting walls up, and he learns to actually talk about his feelings, and you’re still the same toddlers from two decades ago; a bit immature, bound to end up together, and totally susceptible to throwing your ice cream cones on the ground if the other shoes any semblance of an injury.

–

New beginnings are for spring, though. Months after his birthday and yours have passed, months after new years, right when the first flowers bloom and the cold starts to whisper it's goodbyes, right when he realizes it’s nearly been a year since the day he’d randomly thought of you and set lose this insane chain of events – right in the middle of April, he decides he’s going to marry you.

It won’t be anytime soon, but seeing as how you’re steadily progressing in your career, and he’s earning more with his art than with his job? The budget for a wedding is definitely on the table, and he vows to officially make you his one day.

Some day.

(He already has the ring in his cart on the Cartier website.)

(Mingyu comes out of the program a few weeks later, and Jungkook asks him to be the best man.)

(You’re on the same page, if the wedding themed Pinterest board he sees you shut with insane speed is any indication.)

–

You love infinitely, filled to the brim and overflowing with it; so much so that it gets overwhelming at times, but neither of you go. You choose him, and he chooses you, and seasons go by and Jungkook figures out the direction he wants to go in this new life, and you learn to be gentle with yourself, and neither of you go.

And so it goes.

You and Jungkook, two kids grow into two adults in the most marvelous city in the world. A million possible beginnings in the span of two decades, but one conclusion; one ending: the both of you aren’t flawless – it’s hard to be – you’re just bad at being alone.

—

a/n: U GUYS ITS HEREEEEE. I’m sorry for the incessant word vomit and unnecessarily long smut scene it was important for the plot development hehe. and if u feel bad for AJ and Nayoung… so do I! this is also a birthday fic for my love jungkook and I hope he has the bestest day in the entire universe I love U my little virgo sweet boy I should Kiss u a million times

taglist: @bumblerebbee @brownapsara @smolbitchwithcakes @allfryou @carmen-j @1316s @yoonjinsyy @bishuthot @ahundredtimesover @readingfavorites

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #bts #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook/reader #jungkook blurbs #jungkook angst #happy birthday jungkook #jungkookday #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook fic

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bangtanhoneys · 5 months

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BTS MOMENTS: TAEHYUNG & GRACE - WINTER BEAR

He knew it was going to be hard not seeing everyone he loved on his birthday. It had become the norm after a while when he was busy travelling around the world, performing for New Year's. The few breaks in between were cherished when he could spend his birthday with his brothers, his parents, his siblings, his friends, his Wooga squad, ARMY and most importantly, his noona.

But now he was in the military and that came first. You very rarely got your birthday off and very rarely got time off even as a new recruit. He was a platoon leader, so he had to show an example by not being upset at the fact his birthday wouldn’t be spent with his loved ones.

However, when he returned back to where his bed was, there was a box sitting on the covers. It had been signed off by the military given the green tape covering his name and the stamp of approval from the office.

“Special request,” Taehyung read on the stamp and sat down to carefully open the box. Even if it was a saesang’s box, it wouldn’t have made it past the first check and the fact it was sitting on his bed meant it had come through with special orders.

When he finally got the box open, there was a present wrapped in birthday wrapping paper with an emerald green bow. On the tag read: “Taehyung, it’s your birthday! I miss you. I have one at home with me and I’ve named him Winter Bear. Happy birthday, my little bear. I love you.”

It was signed off as ‘noona.’

“She remembered,” Taehyung whispered and quickly pulled off the wrapping paper, opened up the box and found a brown bear in the same military uniform with a blue tag on, which was removable as he moved up the ranks.

The bear sat on his bedside table every night and no one said anything, no one made any comments when asked. Nothing more needed to be said when a little name tag was stitched on ‘Gigi.’

He would be home soon enough and he would see his noona as soon as he could where he could lean against her, let her take his worries away and not think about anything other than being home and being with her and the boys again.

Note: Apologies for the delay but I'm back! Happy belated birthday to our Winter Bear - go and kick ass in the military and we'll see you very soon.

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts fic #taehyung happy birthday

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back2bluesidex · 3 months

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Your Lips, My Lips - Apocalypse - JHS (18+)

Pairing: Demi God!Hoseok X Fem!Reader

Summary: For meddling too much into humans' business, Hoseok has long been kicked out of heaven. He has been wandering ever since. But he never felt this strong of an urge of settling down with a human untill he came across you, a mysterious, beautiful woman who likes to drink all alone every Friday sitting at the same damn spot of the same damn pub.

Theme: Angst, implied smut, open ending

Warning: Will be mentioned in the final post.

Word Count: TBD

Posting date: 16th February, 2024, 12:30 EDT.

You can comment down (if you are not in my permanent taglist) or send me an ask if you wanna be tagged.

#bts angst #bts smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #jhope angst #jhope smut #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #bts x y/n #hoseok x y/n #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts oneshot #bts fanfiction #bts jhope #hobiuary #jhope birthday fic

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

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flutter (teaser) (3tan) | myg

title: flutter (m) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the aftermath of a night of confessions and relief. note: teaser for the next drabble of three tangerines. this takes place in a timeskip in forfeit :D note 2: apparently 300 for a goal post is way too easy now🥴 good luck if we end up with another one🧍‍♀️but anyway, happy birthday to the people celebrating today! today was supposed to be the actual drop day (since the one-year 3tan anniversary is tomorrow) but alas, life! i didn’t get to write as much on vacay, then traveling and a big ass headache took me out lol. hope it’s ok and i hope this is still a decent gift<3 the final drop is 100x more menacing ahaha🙃 warnings: nothing for teaser other than yoongi being yoongi lol, and maybe some kisses.., and soft moments.., possibly a shower scene you never know👀 (there is), final list of warnings included on drop day! est. drop date: november 19th, 2022, 2:17pm est teaser word count: 1.5k🦋 est. word count: 7k🦋

“Come shower with me.”

Oh.

What.

Did he really just say that?

You blink more than once before checking, “You sure?”

“Mm.”

Despite being exhausted down to every fibre of your being, you nod. Because you don’t think this kind of opportunity will present itself until the next blue moon.

Silent, Yoongi leads you out of bed, huffing when you wince at the beautiful soreness between your legs. And in your legs. And everywhere, actually.

“Rude.” You thump back sideways on the bed and sigh. “This is your fault.”

Expecting another laugh, you don’t get one. Instead, he simply lies next to you again, soft but firm stomach pressing into yours. “You wanna just wait for me?”

“No,” you whisper, snuggling into his chest and feeling the clinks of his jewelry. “I wanna go. I just… You got me good.”

He laughs down at your cheek, bringing your chin up and pulling you in for a kiss. “I did, huh.”

Ass. “I’m hearing a severe lack of apology here.”

And you wordlessly repeat your insult when he chuckles even deeper. But he nudges his forehead against yours, and you find yourself suddenly, incredibly shy.

Maybe it’s the fact that, while you don’t see his smirk, you certainly hear it in his question,

“You want me to?”

Immediately, your lips curve upward.

Of course not. Despite your observation, you know that he’d right any wrongs if you were truly hurt. It’s quite considerate of him to still ask in the first place.

“No,” you finally respond, breathy and right before a giggle. “That was hot as fuck.”

He hums, kissing your forehead and making you one with his sheets. “I was going easy on you, doll.”

“Be for real.”

“No lie.”

“…Well, damn.”

A soft snort wisps out, and you feel his muscles stretch as he reaches behind him. When you tilt your head, you realize he’s checking his phone, so you snuggle back against his chest to give him privacy.

You aren’t quite sure how to navigate that part yet.

After a handful of seconds, he sets it back down with a clunk. “When are you gonna leave?”

“Early. I work.”

“K.”

Your fingers come up to play with one of his necklaces, and you tenderly rub each link, one after the next. As your knuckles brush against his skin, you find yourself the utmost content. The most at home.

Yoongi has taught you many things, but one of them has nothing to do with sex. But about people. About how houses can be built with words instead of tools, and take residence in a person instead of anywhere else.

It’s fascinating—and frightening—how someone can become that for you. Especially if that person isn’t quite yours.

Yes, you’re in his place, and yes, he wants you to stay. But there’s still something missing, and you want to keep running until you find it.

If there is a universe out there where you already have, you hope that version of you realizes how lucky they are every day they live.

Your question leaves in a whisper, “Can you help me wake up?”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Thank you.”

Worries aside, you may have lucked out in this universe, too.

Shifting your legs, you breathe and curl into his chest again, realizing only later that he let you sit with your thoughts this whole time. “I think I can get up now.”

He still doesn’t say anything in return, simply vacating the bed and helping you stand.

When you stumble to the bathroom, you weakly pout while he lets out a few hisses of amusement, plotting revenge every tiny step of the way.

“I’ll fight you.”

“You can’t even use those legs.”

“There are other ways.”

“Show me later then.”

After you make the journey, he leads you to lean against his cabinets while he gets the shower ready, opening the glass and turning on the spray.

No other words are spoken, but they don’t need to be. You’re purely content to admire his body in the bright light. Because while you have seen more of this man than you ever thought possible, you haven’t truly taken him in.

As he tests the temperature, you watch the flex of his muscles, noticing how tone he is and how broad his back has become. When he flicks water off his hand and turns to walk back over, a few scars catch your eye.

So many stories of his you still don’t know.

You move to the side when he opens the cabinet behind you, but his stray kiss on your cheek before he gathers towels sets all the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy.

He’s gonna be the end of you.

Watching him leave again, your head tilts.

Yoongi’s being a lot more touchy than you ever suspected. To think this is the same person that almost let you walk out without a word makes your chest squeeze.

And squeeze some more.

This tightness is what makes you push off the counter and follow him to his shower rack, stopping him before planting a light peck of your own on his lips.

When he blinks, you softly beam, taking one of the towels and setting it where you think he was planning on hanging it. Turning, you motion for him to give you his, and you set it next to yours, knowing that you’re both still very naked, not fucking, and not giving a single shit about it.

Yoongi’s voice is almost drowned out by the running water when he asks,

“Does this still hurt?”

Your answer appears in the flinch you make at his touch, but you manage to hum anyway.

“It’s swelling, but I got ice. We can use that after this.”

How has he ever thought of himself as not enough?

You turn to face him, but he’s already opened the door, signaling for you to step inside.

So you do.

Steam and hot water envelop you instantly, and when Yoongi closes the door, you take in the large area and the backsplash that goes nicely with the floor tiles.

While the size of the shower surprises you, the contents of it do not. Yoongi has everything organized here, too, and you can’t help but smile at his consisten—

Wait.

Pause.

You’ve been in here before.

Damn, you didn’t even notice until now.

Makes sense, though. Given your harrowed as fuck state, you didn’t think to observe a single thing the first time.

While you’re casted back to that dreaded night, wet hands lightly grip your sides and pull you back. Your skin feels slick on his, and you find comfort in how his head lightly rests against your shoulder blade.

“I wanted to be in here,” he admits. And after a pause, his clarification has you choked up,

“Last time.”

You squeak out his name, eyes closed under the spray.

“But I didn’t know if you wanted that.”

The twist you make to face him is awkward, but it’s okay—normal. “You did everything right,” you confirm. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be having nightmares.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond.

“Besides,” you add, observing bangs that are not entirely wet but sticking to his forehead regardless. “I like this being the first time instead.”

Yeah.

He’s so fucking beautiful when he smiles.

When he looks away, he states the most matter-of-factly, “I’m still charging you for all the water we use.”

You laugh through a grin. Looks like he’s consistent in many other ways. “You’re in here, too!”

“So?”

“Fifty-fifty, at least.”

“You’re the reason I have to take one.”

Your eyes roll heavenward before you find the body wash, but Yoongi stops your moments with a touch to your arm. When you swivel your head, his tone drops to a rumble,

“I got you.”

He what? “Huh?”

Yoongi holds his stare on your lips before flicking up to your eyes. “Let me.”

Oh.

This is very new.

Speechless, you shuffle, carefully switching positions as he stands under the water. When he lathers a scrub with body wash that smells entirely him, you let steam shroud your tiny smile.

You’re aware that Yoongi is nothing if not meticulous. But it’s the way he makes sure every inch of you is cleaned that you’re glad the running water covers your face.

Someone tending to you this way?

This is so, very new.

His movements are gentle, yet thorough; soft, yet determined. Whenever you think you’re clean, he keeps going, as if this is something he needs to get absolutely perfect.

Is he scrubbing more than just today off your skin?

Just the thought makes your tears bigger in size.

When he shifts you both so that you’re back under the water, he’s still silent. Almost reverent. If he knows you’re adding salt to the drain, he doesn’t show it. If he hears your little sniffles rebounding off damp walls, he says nothing.

Instead, he straightens, grabbing his shampoo before regarding your head.

He stares, and you know he’s going to ask—because of course he is. But it remains: you’re still going to appreciate his consideration, no matter what.

“Can I.”

You nod, and he slathers the shampoo in his hands before stepping close. When he stills, you search his eyes, noticing that the bags underneath them are almost gone.

“Tell me if I’m doing this shit wrong, okay.”

And butterfly wings tickle your bones all the way up to your heart.

tbc. :)

how is it so far! feel free to let me know 🥺🦋

A/N: AHHHH i hope this was a good enough snippet to hold us over until drop day! gonna try to make it saturday the 19th but, you know, life can happen lol. how did we like it! is it what you expected? is it boring? dkfdkj anyway, can’t wait to show y’all the rest bc there is so much more left to this part :’)) A/N 2: 3tanversary is tomorrow, november 16th! if you haven’t seen the little survey, here is the link for it :D ++ ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist

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l0mljeonjungkook · 2 years

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AGING FINE LIKE WINE | JJK x Reader

summary - It's your best friend's, no no no, your boyfriend's birthday and you slated a surprise for him, bestowing him with what he asked you eight months ago. But a simple beach date under the starry sky, on his birthday, was something which he least expected, you make his twenty-fifth birthday one hell of a souvenir.

Pairing - Jungkook x Reader

Warnings - 18+, a beach date, sex in the car, nipple play, explicit smut, pierced nipple kink, pregnancy mention, unprotected sex, lots of hickeys, breast kink.

Genre - childhood best friend au, childhood best friend to lovers, fluff, smut.

Word Count - 7k

A/N- It's a drabble of Home is where the heart is but could be read standalone. The first chapter of this series is - the present scenario and this drabble carries you to the past, and yes! there was no silhouette of Taehyung.

Series Masterlist

*Alarm blares* you abruptly quiver, as if the blaring sound of the machine beside you, is drilling a hole in your head. You shut the machine abruptly like a shot it's half past four, and you turn your head to watch the man beside you, sleeping soundly. You rise a little and lean towards him, drinking in the sharp features that make him look ethereal diurnal, you smile when his lips turn up a little with your gentle touch and you love to see him smile and faint crinkles near his eyes, whilst he's in deep slumber.

You plant a soft and long kiss on his forehead, "Happiest Birthday the sweetest kookie of my life, I ever had and will forever have until I die, the best gift of my life, I could have ever asked in this lifetime, love of my life. May that smile shall remain forever on your lips and I would be grateful if I would be the reason for your smile, my love", you whisper in your very much raspy voice with blurry tears in your eyes, as you trace the left cheek scar with your thumb before placing a soft kiss.

If your memory serves you, it would be his fifteenth birthday with you as a friend, but as your boyfriend - it's fourth, to be exact. You have been subjected to a lot of conversation, rambling about why he does not like to celebrate his birthday but rather loves to stay at home, beside you binging your favourite cookies together he loves to bake for you, whilst playing video games and making you lose the game by distracting you in all the filthy way he could.

You silently slide off the blanket, but stop, leaning closer to him you peck a soft kiss on his lips, "happiest birthday baby, I hope to make this day the best birthday of your life ", you see him licking his cold piercing on his lips after you kissed. You slide the blanket and rise on your toes. You pick up your phone and strut out of the room. First black coffee, you can't even walk without this elixir, you parade to your kitchen to prepare the early morning cup of your black coffee, albeit routinely it starts after eight in the morning but today, for a day you call yourself a morning bird. It's his birthday, twenty-fifth to be precise, you are wide awake to pack some of the gifts, which are left unpacked.

Last night you hibernated after one in the morning faking that you got some office work as Jungkook yelled at you for not seizing proper rest even after returning home from the office, though he slept after waiting for you for an hour, whilst reading books on different recipes he loves to try, in reality, you were baking the salted peanuts butter cookies for your kookie - his favourite.

Often you have been subjected to a conversation, rambling about his favourite cookies, when his mother baked salted peanut butter cookies, how he shoved them all at once and mentally prepared himself for the scoldings he'll get from his mother. YES! You never foresaw yourself baking cookies, but for him, you can do anything, even cook if he asks!

Here you're in your kitchen, preparing a huge cup of black coffee for yourself at half past four in the morning! And there are still a few left for you to pack.

Pouring the hot black coffee in the cup, whilst thinking about Jungkook, the way he yelled at you god, how you deterred yourself from kissing him, how hopeless and frustrated you were, watching him so bothered about you, yea that was desirable enough to strip him off then and there in your kitchen. Sex in the kitchen! sounds divinely pleasing.

Thinking about sex - a hot cup of coffee in hand - and your nasty brain as you took a sip of blazing hot coffee because you were feeling about hot steamy sex in the kitchen hah!!!

Oh good god-- what an incredible start of the day.... your holy mucky senses. Your burnt tongue is a remembrance of your brain rich in filth. You make your path to the coffee table in front of the couch, you pick up the fresh red roses as you parade lazily to your home library.

As you stride in your eyes trip to the table with the five gift boxes that you already sealed with brown paper and written tinges on white paper as you labelled over the crown of each box. You shut the door behind you, as you check the boxes, and mumble - touch, smell, sight, taste, sound. Whole!

You draw out rose petals and plop them on the tray. Pleasant my babe's gonna love the surprise, I'm optimistic.

Now the lone thing left is - the elegant tiny letters. Your favourite and the toughest role, the foremost rationale why you saved this task tardy on your plan.

On the table beside the gifts, last night you maintained some short paper tiny letters - for writing your heart out on each of them. You tug the notes in hand and the bottle of his favourite cologne of yours and you drizzle on each note before writing on them. The short paper notes are creamy in texture and thick like a card. Some short papers are plain red - others are more baroquely designed with cute little candle doodles in red, blue, yellow, pink, and purple colours, in the corners of some notes, or pretty rose petals in Persian red on others, some with cute pink lips doodles, and a few with heart eyes emoticons, without ruining any more time you jump to take the red marker to write on each of the notes because it's quarter past five and a lot of work is left to be done.

Placed the notes on the same tray of rose petals, with scotch tape and scissors. You move to your shared room to adorn it before he wakes up, unhurriedly open the door and on tiptoes, you saunter towards your bed, place the tray and move to the library to pick up the remainder and return to the room.

Subsequently, fifty minutes after adorning your room with everything you had, it's quarter past six, and you do the latter work, before striding out of your shared apartment.

The slight leak between the curtains, lets the sunshine through the wide glass windows, earning him to rub his eyes as it tumbles promptly on Jungkook's face, however his eyes are still shut. Taking a lungful of your essence on sheets jumbled with the intense and spicy fragrance of roses earns him a smile.

In reflex, his hand trick to your side of the bed, sensing the sheets cold carves his eyebrows furrow, but what earns his eyebrows knit together are the rose petals which he feels under his skin, "y/n" he calls you, voice raspy and eyes still shut.

"y/n?" Kookie whines like an infant, whilst rubbing his eyes.

And when he infers, you are not around him in this room and not actually in the apartment because if you would be here, he would just .... know. It's your tradition to wake him up in the morn with a cup of black coffee in your hand. However today he feels odd. He swivels over, picks up his phone, and from the side of his pillow, he unrolls his eyes to check the time... Oh, I woke up early.

He feels odd on his forehead, and in reflex, his hand moves to his forehead.

A note is taped on his forehead, as he plucks it out to check it with a scowl on his face, but that frown doesn't prevail long, "I can feel you callin' my name babe!!! ", and it turns to a smile when he read your note, he turns the note around, "Happy birthday to my lifeline, I desire you all the love, harmony and joy in your life... By the way, there's a lot besides, text me as you read this love, your princess ".

He kisses the note with a grin, and he takes a lungful of the pally and friendly essence of the note, as he shuts his eyes whilst drowning in the pool of this divine whiff jogging his remembrance, as he soon reckons about you. The perfume nudges him about you.

Kookie 7:30 am: Good morning princess, I'm awake, where are you?

He glimpses at your image on his phone screen wallpaper, 'I miss you, princess, doubtless the first morning in four years without you beside me, and I do not appreciate this y/n'. He glances around the room, and his eyebrows shoot up, LV keepall bag on the table, rose petals and balloons all over the floor, and he whirls his head to find rose petals with a wine bottle of Vigor Sangiovese and five boxes of gifts with titles which he dominated. She did all of this but when?

Your phone jingles and you're retreating to your home. You browse your phone, oh he wakened. You smash reply.

You 7:35 am Happy Birthday My Love, I LOVE YOU. And I'm on my way. Did you get my note?

Kookie 7:38 am: Of course I got it. My princess taped it to my head.

You're cackling uproariously in the morning on the road, like crazy. You implemented this, and you can foresee the sight of him frowning at the taped note on his forehead.

He picks up the bottle of red wine, "Woah, Vigor Sangiovese.... She's amazing", and picks out the little note with heart eyes emoticons on the fences, "AGING FINE LIKE WINE ", he snorts, as he rubs the back of his neck with another hand, oh god this girl, he cackles.

Retaining the bottle back on the bed he bends forward to the gifts as he grabs the box, marked touch. He unwraps it. There's an orange Louise Vuitton box, inside it is a - LV Baroque Ranger Boot - colour black.

His eyes glow up, and his smile is brighter than the Sirius. His eyes meander straight to the boots but something hooks his eyes - the lid of the box, a note taped on it too, "The start of every new journey entails a new pair of shoes, and I am dying to start one with you, so here are your shoes and tie your shoes strongly I don't want you falling for anyone else! And yes thank you for knot running away from me, staying with me in all the stormy situations, my love... Happy Birthday." A tear escaped from his eyes, after reading the note.

And the boots - he was eyeing for months and couldn't buy because foremost - because of its unavailability and additional - when it was attainable, you interrupted him from buying, telling him, "Babe, we'll go to LV store this weekend, you could buy then?", and that weekend never reached you two. So naive of him he paid heed to what you swore and since then it's been four months. Now, he understood why you stopped him.

The ensuing box is labelled as sight. It's tiny and featherlight as if filled with cotton. He unwraps it and there's a folded pink sheet. Unravelling the sheet, it seems it's a letter and yes he's not wrong. You wrote a letter to him -

"I hope you know that you're not the one who loves the most, this letter is for you to let you know that I love you the most here. Got it!! I'm not intimidating you today, and I won't intimidate you today I promise, but can't promise about tomorrow or the day after or the future.

Getting to know you after being with you, is different like I never knew you. And it's like my life is changed. My heart was barren and it absorbed me, but you filled my heart with your love and your smile. I can see my future more clearly now cause you're the light in my light. You overlooked my flaws.

When the entire world was sombre, covered with dark clouds. I found myself to be bound in an endless winter, and you brought the rainbow to my life, the warmth beside you felt like the sun in the cold morning.

Jungkook I love you, I didn't know I would ever love someone again or be loved by someone. But you proved me wrong and I'm grateful that I have you by my side whether the whole world averses me, I know I have you beside me, my home, my rainbow, my light in the darkness.

When I look into your eyes, your colourful eyes glistening with love for me, I see a reflection of my soul in them. And in your arms - there's no place on earth that could ever give me the serenity, warmth, comfort, safety, that I would rather be.

I can't stay away from you and can't imagine my life without you, my love. I hope you feel the same.

I love you,

Your princess."

The blurry vision, whilst reading your letter could tell he feel the same for you. You're the one, he wants to cherish in his lifetime. Their love for you grows twofold because he's so grateful for you.

The love you both have in your heart is immeasurable. He brushes out the tears.

Picks up another box, labelled as sound. This mini box is as light as the earlier one. He marvels, at what it could be. He brings the box close to his ear and jiggles it, but there's nothing to be heard. He presses his lips into a thin line as he unwraps it, ohhh concert tickets for two--

You 8:15 am: I'm hoping that you must be getting ready... If not then scoot and take a nice shower... I'm coming.

Kookie 8:17 am: come on, I'm waiting princess.

The butterflies blossoming into the pits of your stomach by just reading princess, honestly not reading you could hear him say.

He takes the yield of another one - labelled as smell. This one's heavier though. He unwraps the box, there are two gifts 2nd one isn't a gift but regardless, that allures him. It's your thong, yes! Thanks to your mucky brain. His eyebrows shoot up, and oh boy you should catch that lopsided grin on his face like it's the best gift you gave.

Kookie 8:25 am: The box labelled as smell, has my favourite stuff in it.

He takes your thong close to his nose, taking a brief lungful of your flavour, and the urge to fuck you right now is eating him. As he looks over to his phone, waiting for your reply. He checks the other stuff in the same box, a Flaconnier with three sets of perfumes from Louis Vuitton. And you should see the smile on his face, he was eyeing this set for months and now it's in his hands, but the thong remains fixed at first on the list.

The last one - taste... He knows this one for sure because you have been doing this on his birthday for four years. He open the lid of the box, and yes he was right. It's his favourite salted peanuts and butter cookies. This is the only box without a note.

He slides away the blanket, really wanting to know, what is she up to. make his way towards the door. There’s one more tiny wrapped box. He picks it up, unwraps it… open the box, and again there's a note, "what if I tell you, your wish is my command. The wish you wanted to come true... It's happening - so get ready."

Kookie 8:30 am is the number of gifts I have unwrapped today since morning, hypothetically will end up stripping you off tonight.

You 8:33 am: oh love you don’t know how much I have been waiting for this.

Kookie 8:35 am: Then why wait for the night princess, come home.

Jungkook took a fresh warm bath, now he's waiting for you with his cup of black coffee in one hand and the cookie you made in the other. His eyes flicker back to the front door.

There's a creak of the door heard, you're ultimately back, with a huge rose bouquet. You dug into the flower stores for the flawless bouquet for 2 hours and found it at last.

He positions the cup on the kitchen counter and parades towards you, he did miss you. The corner of his mouth turned up from ear to ear, as if you both met after a long time, "princess" he chimes seeing you home, he picks you up and spins you around.

"Jungkook, happy birthdayyyy... Kookiieeee I'm scaredddd," your breathless laugh echos around your apartment, and his heart swells with love for you... Your laugh is harmonious to his ears. "Thank you, princess, for the gifts and everything but the most precious gift for me is you and that's never gonna change," his palms are cupping your cheeks as he presses a kiss on your forehead.

He kisses you, long and relentless. His arms hug you tightly around your waist, as he buries his head at the crook of your neck and plants butterfly kisses from your shoulder and stops below your ear.

He leans closer to you, as he softly outlines your hair, his hand slides down to your cheeks and you lean your face on his palm, "My princess, I'm gonna just appreciate you right now... The cookie is divine--"

"Babe let's go, there's a surprise for you, a hint - it's a beach date", you park a gentle kiss on his palm.

"One more? And beach date? Did you read my bucket list?" His eyebrows shoot up, and he leans forward and parks a kiss on your forehead, "princess, the likelihood of the rain is increased threefold," he looks outside the window, "perhaps it could rain anytime soon" as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

"Truthfully I want that... But by judging the weather it won't rain until tonight so come onnn", you whine and rise on your tiptoes to place a soft peck on his lips. He chuckles at your childlike excitement, "my precious baby,", and he kisses you back.

"I'm stunned already with all those gifts and my favourites are the cookies", his eyes glinting with contentment and delight.

"Ouch, here I thought those lacy black thongs would be your favourite... Aahh poor me", you bite your chuckle, looking everywhere but him. You push him aside he parks his ass on the couch. You stroll back to your bedroom.

He grabs your wrist and drags you back and your hips are plopped on his lap, his dark eyes peeking deep into your soul and grin braided with lechery, making cold shivers run down to the south, and you feel your core twitch.

"That was delicious, princess" he whispers.

"Ya-- yaah! time trickled down now, do not make up, I got it cookies were favourite. Now, let that ass work a little and pick up the bag and let's move to your next surprise--"

He kissed you hungrily, his hands travelling to your back, holding you close whilst kissing you, as you throw your arms around hugging him, your hands grabbing the nape of his neck.

He breaks the kiss yet your lips touch each other, "Princess I wish I could freeze this time right now, and be in this moment with you forevermore." His hoarse whispers into your mouth.

He kisses you on the angle of your nose and chuckles, "the same baby", your eyes travel from his lips to his eyes, a frown between your eyebrows.

You rise from his lap, as he grabs your wrist again to stop you, softly rubbing your ass, "Jungkooookiie--", he smacks your ass hard, "ouch", you yelp, and you can imagine the burning imprint of his heavy hand.

"This is what I wanted to listen to," he smoothly slides his hands to soothe your now scarlet skin. "I'm taking the bag with me, waiting for you in the parking lot, princess," as he picks up the bag and struts out of the apartment.

You rub the area where he smacked you a few minutes ago. It stings.

This is the day to yourselves, more often than not.

You're wearing a black drop shoulder rib knit tee paired with shorts, something comfy for long car drives.

You saw him in the parking lot leaning to the car, talking to someone over a phone call. You silently on tiptoes make your way to him. Wait, Mr Jeon.

You stand behind him, groping his ass, as he turns around and you rub his ass to stop him from turning, "R E V E N G E", placing a kiss on his back. He chuckles as he put the phone aside.

"Oh, I love this revenge, princess." He grabs your hand and turns back.

"Whattt?" You whine as you slide your hands into your pockets. His eyes drink in your features.

"Why don't we go back home and continue what you left right--"

"Shut up," you hiss.

"did you just say 'shirt up', oh anything for my princess," he grabbed the hem of his double sleeves black Balenciaga t-shirt, stripping it off.

You place your hand on his trying to stop him, "YOU! Kookie I know you heard what I just said," you narrow your eyes on him, and you see a ghost of a smile that melts away as you notice, "get inside!"

He's laughing seeing you all flustered scarlet cheeks with his mere act. He opens the door for you, "mi lady", you nod and give him a small peck before entering.

"are you going to wear those cute heart-shaped sunglasses" he chuckles loudly.

"yes!!" You declare, crossing your arms around your chest.

"where's mine then?"

"You too want this??" His question shooks you, is he serious or just chaffing?

"Both of us in black... The sunglasses should also be the same!"

"Good for you I do have one more in blue hah!" How proud you are!

He enters and starts the car to venture to your destination.

Your heart rate is higher than the speed of the car, and the thoughts haunt you, what if he does the same as you did, like you did eight months back, staying silent at the sudden question that tumbled out of his quivering lips, on the snowy Christmas night. But all your thoughts fade away when you hear him singing, his sweet dulcet tumbling out of his lips along the song whilst driving filling the car with his melodies satiating your soul, your favourite part in long drives.

You look at him, with all the warmth in your eyes, your heart is so full of love for him.

"don't just look at me princess, come on sing along", his eyes are on the road and doesn't even spare a glance at you.

"Baby you can, ride it ooh yeah, bring it over to my place, and you be like," he sings as he gestures you to sing.

"Baby who cares?", you let your body flow with the beats, oh you just love this.

"But I know you care, bring it over to my place", he sings, side-eyeing you, smirking. His eyes roam around your body, bite his lips, circling on the cold metal piercing with his tongue and pulling it into his mouth, teeth biting the metal.

"I can feel you staring at me," you say in a song-like voice, and he chuckles that you got it right. "Oh I love this line - tie it up, put a chain on it,... It should be my cut that it - tie me up, put a chain on me," placing your hand on his thighs, and you feel him twitch under your touch yet he doesn't spare a glance.

"Oh, you want that right,"

"Oh YESSS", your hands just so close to his crotch.

"y/n, I'm driving", he claims shifting the gears, as he huffs out a breath.

"Sorry sir.."

The weather is windy kind of stormy, with dark heavy clouds hiding the sun behind them. You secretly wish it to rain today. You leave the busy streets of the city behind, as you are on the way to the beach.

Strangely, there's no one to be seen here, but you are grateful for that. Perhaps it's the magic of the stormy weather. After a long drive to the beach. You look up to the sky the dark clouds cover the sky. It's 7 pm, the weather as said.

You both unlock the door and move out of the car. "Princess are you sure, you want to stay here... I mean we could go back home."

"Uh no no.. it's actually perfect"

He holds your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours, as you both move towards the ocean. "It's been years since I visited this place" his face lighting with joy, taking in the view with his sparkling eyes and cheerful smile making him glow in this cold weather. You watch him smile and that smile makes the pits of your stomach bloom with butterflies, you adore the man beside you. You want to make this birthday the special one, the one that will be engraved in his memory. You want to make every second of this day special for him. You bring your hand intertwined with his and place a kiss on the back of his hand. He looks at you with his starry eyes, mirroring your eyes.

You both are silent beside each other, taking in the sound of waves that is giving peace to your soul. The breeze smells so fresh like the ocean water, the wrinkling waves touching the shoreline, the rhythmic sound of the waves, drawing you and Jungkook to sit down. As you both sit, the curling waves touch your feet, tingling your feet.

You lean your head on his shoulder as he scoots you closer to him, his thumb drawing circles at the small of your waist.

This is what you were waiting for, rain. It suddenly started raining Jungkook rises from the sand. "Come on love, we should stay in the car."

"No", you rise, you move closer to him, "hold me tight and never let me go", as you place your hands on his chest, you faintly press the hard metal on his pierced nipples. "Never! at least not in this lifetime" his arms hugs around your waist, you place butterfly kisses on his collarbone, to the jaw as he moan "y/n", you rise on tiptoes, "NO let me", looking at his warm and plump lips as you lick your lips and kiss them and he let you, your mouth on his, the rhythmic sound of the waves faints. You slide your tongue into his mouth and he let you. His hold tightens onto your small waist making you clingy. The lovely scrimmage of your tongue over his tongue, the dominant moments of your tongue make his member behind a veil of his pants.

He breaks the kiss, taking a lungful of O2, panting so painfully sexily, looking into your eyes, his dark gaze giving you shivers down to your spine. His chest heaving sorely.

His hands wander across your curves, "Princess, the hell you are so-- soaking wet!" he yells between his shaking breaths. "come on, let's move inside the car!"

"A b-- big NOOOOOO", you jump in excitement.

"you’re goi-- going to get sick." his voice shakes.

"It's ok-- okay. My baby boy, you’ll take a-- care of me anyway, come on! Join me, love."

He crosses his arms and watches you with his dark eyes, giving you cold stares.

"What babe it's your birthday enjoy it like a brimful." You chortle.

He still is looking at you, and you blink your eyes owlishly, you roll your eyes.

"Do Not ROLL YOUR EYES"

You blink nervously you didn't intend to roll your eyes. He stretches out his hand and as you hold, you both run towards the car. You both are sitting in the back of the Mercedes.

You pick the towel, and rub his head to dry out his hair as you sneeze, "see, I told yo--" he sneezes, and you chuckle, "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that", you side-eye him, and points your finger to the place you two were, moments ago.

"Yea I did but see --" you both sneeze in unison.

"repeat after me that was a ridiculous idea", taking hold of the towel from your hands.

"I know." You utter under your breath, eyes wandering out watching the junction of the waves and the raindrop meeting like him and you, and you lick your lips at the image popping at the picture frame inside your head.

"Then why did you do it?", as he gently wipes your face and hands.

"So that you’ll do it with me." You murmur under your breath.

"Was that the only reason?" He softly traces your lips with his thumb.

"your bucket list," you bite your bottom lip, looking everywhere but him. An exaggerating sigh vacates his pierced lips, parking his palms on your cheeks, you whirl your head to face him and he places a kiss on your lips. A strange feeling bubbling in the pits of your stomach.

He places his hand with a few cold rings on your bare thighs giving you chills that crawl to your spine, sliding smoothly under your shorts. His fingers are gently rubbing your clit, "Bare pussy I love that, princess. I'm loving all the surprises." He whispers into your ears, warm breath hitting the crook of your neck and bites your lobe before leaning back.

"you need to get rid of these wet clothes, you know?" Contrary to his honeyed voice, his boorish hands are at odds.

"You too", with the space of a minute, as you couldn't compel your hunger. Your body under the influence of your filthy brain, unbuttoning his tee, a slight smirk on your face. Tossing his tee away from your sight, you take his pierced nipples between your fingers and pull them peeking deeply into his dark eyes, unveiling your dominance over him as a groan left his lips making your chest swell in the lord. Do you need to stop salivating over his pierced nipples? Isn't it obvious hah?

You were fine with him, rilling you up with his lingering touches on your thighs until his fingers drew circles on your clit. The other hand is hoisting slowly your loose tee, whilst kissing you, oh no no not just kissing biting, sucking, in whole... eating you up! with just a kiss? He's hungry, baby! for you, to be exact. Satiating his thirst is what you love the most. Your breathy moan gets lost in his mouth.

The next minute he's overshadowing you, whilst you are uncomfortably lying in the backseat of your car. As if you are so wet is not enough, his deep dark gaze on you makes you weak on your knees. The sweat trickles down shining in the dim light like diamonds on your skin, with his oh-so-intense look.

Your fingers pull his pierced nipples, while his one hand is now on your waist holding you tightly. The other is on your ass tapping it gently, gesturing you to follow his lead as he's hoisting your loose tee up, placing kisses on your neck to your lobe. A moan slips out of your lips, with your bare skin under his gaze when he throws your tee at the back which hit the window and slides down.

You both quickly slip out of your remaining clothes.

"Eyes on me, princess", he says his hands find purchase on your ass and grab them. His nipples are still between your fingers, caressing them.

He pulls you as your legs wrap around his waist, his member just an inch away, he leans down, "enough played with mine," he takes your nipples between his teeth, "now I'll play with yours", with his muffled voice. How would he not? Probably his favourite business. Biting your nipples, plucking them out as your moans give him two p's - peace and pleasure. Your moans overshadowed the rhythmic dulcet of waves and the rain.

Your back arches off the uncomfortable seat as he pulls your nipples with his teeth and your moans escape, flooding up the car. He holds his thick veiny dick, rubbing the precum all over his member before shoving it inside you. He traces your slit softly with his other hand. He uses his fingers to part your lips careful to not startle you, as if uncovering the food cloche from his favourite dish. He pulls your clitoris keeping it between his index and middle finger, pulling it hard, and looking intently at you, you arch your back. Moans only louder this time.

He runs his shaft between your folds, teasing you but never sliding it in.

"JUNGKOOK..." you whine,

"You sound desperate" he whispers.

Without many words... Fucking under the sky is making him crazy just like you... Is what you think?

He slides his thick veiny member inside your opening, even in the dark he knows where it is... knows every inch of your skin. He's balls deep inside you, you gasp for breath before he cuts you off and slides his tongue into your mouth navigating every corner of your mouth. But he never stops ramming his dick into your tight pussy.

"You're so fu-- ckin tight princess", he says between kisses his words getting lost in your mouth.

Your hands on his back scratching his skin, and just the way you scratch him is enough to let him know how good is he fucking you. His member diving deep inside of you. The grip of your legs tightens around his waist. He's biting every inch of your neck, and you could already envision the marks on your neck that he's going to adore on the drive back to your home. He's rocking his hips deeply into you.

He adores how your tumbles out from your lips and you lick your dry lips over and over again. He's ramming his cock deep inside your pussy. He hits the sweet spot for the seventh time if your memory serves you and your back arches back, a moan escapes your lips filling the car with your sonorous sensuous moans.

"Fuck you feel so good around me," he hisses.

"Baby I can't hold it anymore" you whimper between your moans as he hit that soft spot for the eighth time. Your eyes shuts taking every drop of the pleasure he's offering you.

Your pussy clenching around his dick and cries only growing louder flowing out of your mouth just to fill his heart and the car. His grip around your waist tightens at the clenching of your pussy around him, as he shuts his eyes.

"Fuck, cum princess." He can feel you on the edge now. He groaned looking deeply with his dark eyes into your eyes which are barely open, "eyes on me princess."

You open your eyes like a shot and the clenching of your pussy only tightens. His hips ramming deeply, couldn't contain, "cum".

"Jungkooook, aaahh fuck" you let go, your nails dipping into his back.

"Are you ready princess," his breathy whispers are no less than the waves dulcet.

You nod, "Yes baby fill me up", panting hard after you realise.

Paying heed to your green flag, he cums inside of you, filling you up with his warm cum. Your walls clenching around his member. As he dips his head at the crook of your neck blanketing your body with his - his warm breath tingles your skin. Your hand softly brushes his dark hair.

"Now that's a first", you chuckle into his ear.

"What princess?" His voice mixed with exhaustion and beseech.

"Sex in the car,"

Sex in every possibly uncomfortable position, that's a norm.

"soon planning for the second trip... This was on my bucket list, sex under the sky, kiss in rain--" he pauses and leans back, a vague look on his face "DID YOU READ MY BUCKET LIST!" His voice increased two folds.

"N-- Noo" you stutter.

He looks at the peak of your bud, and pulls it between his fingers, "really? Princess" you move a little with his touch.

"Yea I did.."

He leans down placing a gentle kiss on your lips as he chuckles. He picks his shirt from the bag. "Get up princess wear this, and let's move out." He places a kiss on your forehead, and you nod.

He moves out only in his tropical print waist shorts, hands in his pocket taking a lungful of the ocean breeze.

Wearing his shirt which ends a little above your knees and your thongs. You move out, taking the most special gift for his birthday with you, hiding it behind just not to let him know until the right time. You look up at the now clear sky. You admire the junction of the ocean and the moon.

The never-ending ocean seems like the love in your heart for him - never-ending. The beating sound of waves is calming your soul. The rain stopped a few hours ago. Probably when you two were wrapped around each other. Looking at the sky it seems eight in the evening.

You two make your way to the place where you ... Kissed, sitting down beside each other, your head leaning on his shoulder. You both intently look at the moon. Your heart pounding inside your chest, thinking about how to do it... You did everything so smoothly today but this one... This one is special for you both.

"You made my day special y/n..."

"Kookie. I have some-- something for you"

You pick the box from your left, open it up in front of him picking out the ring. You look at him, his now teary eyes on you looking at you with so much love in them.

"Jungkook, do you remember... Uh just go back to the Christmas night-- you proposed to me? asked me to spend the rest of my life with you. That you do not want to introduce me to your friends as your girlfriend but as your wife....." You pause tears burning your eyes, containing them only burning your throat, "I apologize I didn't answer you then, though my heart was yelling at me to just utter a yes my lips were frozen... I apologize kookie though it took me longer to build up the courage to say a Yes to spending my life forevermore beside my best friend... I'm so so fortunate I guess that I have you by my side... My love, my best friend"....your voice quaver, his eyes never leaving you, "I apologize for the blunder I did then, but now I'm very much clear, and now I'm here with you beside the ocean, under the starry sky with the moon as our witness... promising you that I'll stay with you in every stormy and cloudless situation of our life..." you harrumph, hands shivering, "Will You Marry Me Mr. Jeon Jungkook.." your heart is going to explode any minute now... He's not saying a word since you started speaking. A tear escapes your eyes falling on your cheeks, he quickly wipes them off with his thumb.

"Yes yes yes hundreds of times yes if you'd ask me, now I'm speechless... I know why you were when I asked" he chuckles.

You take his hand in yours and put a ring on his ring finger. He takes your hand and places a peck on it.

"kookie wait here I'm coming" you rise up and quickly stroll towards the car.

Retreating with a bottle of Vigor Sangiovese in one hand and a cupcake with a cute candle on the crown of it.

You sit beside him, keeping the bottle down, and you light up the candle. "Make a wish kookiiee" you chuckle. Taking your hand in his, closing his eyes, "my only wish since I fell in love with you, is to marry you and start our little family together", and he blows the candle. Your heart skipped beating after beating as if it stopped beating after his confession.

After having the cupcake and wine. You both lie down under the starry sky on the dry sand as the cool waves tickle your feet. Your head on his tattooed arms, stargazing is one of your favourite hobbies you two always wanted to do.

"Hey, I have never asked you this," his eyes were still in the sky as if counting the stars.

"Uhh hmm," placing your palm on his chest feeling his heartbeats.

"What do you think of having our-- our baby you know in future?" He stutters

"What--"

"No no nothing nevermind I'm being --"

"Noo kookie please continue I always wanted us to talk about this if you ask me." You look into his eyes

"y/n aahh, I'm scared though i don't know how will you react over this, never ever we discussed about the idea of us being pregnant, having our own baby... Like do you want to have kids or --"

"oh my love ever since I accepted you, accepted you as my partner, ever since then, I have two dreams one to marry you and two to have our kids" you chuckle the excitement in your eyes only mirroring your heart.

"Oh y/n really! Let's do this like right now,"

"Kookie your next birthday, you'll enjoy it beside me and your daughter" your chest bubbles with love for the picture at the back of your head.

"Not your ours, princess." He places a gentle kiss on your hair.

"I'm already picturing you changing a lot of dirty diapers shortly." You chuckle uproariously teasing him to the core.

"yaah I won't mind that though", he brushes your lips with his thumb and kisses you on them.

He leans back, eyebrows furrow, "Do you think I'll make a good father?"

"The best, kookie who'll ruin our kids by baking the cookies cupcakes for them."

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #happy birthday jungkook #bts jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook smut #bestfriend!jjk #l0mljeonjungkook

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kingofbodyrolls · 5 months

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Taehyung fic recs 2023

In honor of Taehyung’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Taehyung fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I haven’t read that much of Taehyung, just recently gotten into it, so the list might be short, so I’ll leave some of the fics I’m really excited to read from my ‘to read’ list 💎 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(💜) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.

⭐One of the Boys by @littlemisskookie // kth x f.reader // childhoodfriends!au, slice of life, bestfriends!au, neighbors!au, high school!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 All your life you wanted only one thing- for Kim Taehyung to like you. You did everything you could to make this happen, from picking up his hobbies and rejecting anything feminine. But who do you start to become when you stop trying to impress him?

🗨️ Woaw! This was so incredibly good, it’s almost hard to describe, but I’ll try: it does a brilliant job at setting the story up, following oc and Taehyung since childhood, and how their friendship develops over time (and their feelings). It’s really cute and funny and with great smut at the end. Overall a brilliantly good read 💯

⭐Baby, Oh Baby by @jungkookiebus // kth x f.reader // established relationship, noneidol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Taehyung and you have been trying for months to get pregnant; you’ve tried crazy diets, stuck to your calendar, got him to diet, but it’s all been for nothing. No matter how healthy your doctor says you are, you can’t conceive. Taehyung tries everything within his power to show you that everything is going to be okay and for one night he makes you forget all about the calendars, schedules, and all the crazy things that came with you trying to have a baby.

🗨️ This was just really cute and loving 🥹The smut was also just ❤️‍🔥💯

⭐Baby Maker by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // marriage!au // 🥵🥰

📝 You're pissed at your husband for being late to your weekly baby-making sessions.

🗨️ Aish, the smut in this 🔥Also all the dirty talk really had me going 🥵

⭐Under wraps by @jungkxook // kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

🗨️ I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU 🥵 the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built 👏🏾 I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating 🥹 the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and tae’s parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels 😂 ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) 😍 a really great fic that I’ll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come ✨ I loved it! Please go read it if you haven’t already 🥹

⭐Farmer boy, I Love You by @strawberrynamjoon // kth x f.reader // farming!au, lowkey e2l // 🥵😂

📝 Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

🗨️ This was just utterly sweet, so fluffy 🥺 I really liked this: the way that reader and Taehyung’s friendship deepens, their friends and their banter 🥺 everything was so good, soft, sad sometimes, and just really great and funny too 🤭

⭐The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // 🥵

📝 You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

🗨️ At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore I’ve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT 🥵 There’s a lot of banter and their mutual ‘hatred’ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing ✨

⭐Loverboy by @kookslastbutton // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

🗨️ These coworkers gotta go, okay?! 😠🤣 Planting seeds of doubt in OC’s head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real ‘loverboy’ 😍 Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC 🥹 That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it ✨

⭐Hush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung // kth x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, music festival!au // 🥵

📝 Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..

🗨️ Pure gold ✨ — I don’t really have much to say, except GO READ IT.

For all of the other lovely fics that I haven’t gotten around to read, but I’m very excited about, I’ve compiled my ‘to read’ list 🙂

‘To read’ list ⬇️

Maybe I do [series; completed] by @chateautae

Gold Rush by @ditttiii

Fanservice by @bangtanintotheroom

Trip by @daechwitatamic

The Art of Obsession by @kooktrash

Dick on the Go by @jeonggukingdom

Love me or we both go down by @gukyi

Gank Mid Lane by @kth1

Good for Me by @icedmatchatae

Something about him by @kooktrash

Love, secret Santa by @jamaisjoons

All I Want for Christmas is You by @ladyartemesia

Buzzed [series; completed] by @junqkook

I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAEHYUNG!!! 💜 🥳 🎂

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exouniverse · 5 months

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Three Little Words

Pairing: taehyung x gn reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Warnings: canon context and time with Tae being enlisted, but no signs of major angst otherwise

Summary: A happy birthday for Tae only required three simple words and your presence, whether you were physically together or apart.

Word count: 1.3K+

A/N: This one turned out small, but I couldn’t let myself continue or I would ruin it lol I found myself surrendering too much to the angst at some point and I really am trying not to for this project. I know it’s not on the specific date again, but bear with me, I’ll get them right at some point hahaha. Happy (late) birthday, Tae!

Also, I made the dividers, so please credit if you use them 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

“Happy birthday Taetae!”

Just hearing your voice through the phone after the first month apart made him feel like the happiest person in the world. It was all bittersweet, but he was okay with how things were working between the two of you. “Thank you Y/N! Ah… I miss you so much!”

“I miss you too!”

He sighed cheerfully. “How is your trip so far? I wanna hear everything.”

You noticed the eager tone in his voice, so you giggled. “You have nothing to share? It’s your special day.”

“I wanna hear your voice more than anything. Not having you around has been tough… I’ve been thinking so much about where we were a year ago.”

“A year ago?” you asked and reminisced. “Everything changed just a year ago.”

Lately, being alone together has somehow become an oddly tense situation. For you, it felt as though any step closer would cause the butterflies in your stomach to flutter away. It was exciting and, at the same time, frightening. You wondered if, after all this time knowing him, the affection you felt surpassed mere friendship and ventured into a realm of deeper connection. As for Taehyung, he found himself needing to fixate his gaze on any random object around him; otherwise, the magnetic pull towards your eyes would win, and he would spend a lifetime studying the light that danced within them.

“Do you want to listen to the demo Yoongi was working on?” You asked to break the silence.

Taehyung glanced at you with a smile and nodded his head enthusiastically, offering some strawberry gummies for you two to share. The thought hadn’t crossed his mind yet until you placed the left earphone in his ear and moved closer, accompanied by a sweet giggle. His gaze quickly shifted back to the mixing console, but the captivating music drew his attention back to you. He didn’t anticipate that you would be staring back at him, but you were almost hypnotized.

You blinked twice and giggled again. “Wha-what do you think?”

“I love it!”

The silence was not uncomfortable; both of you were just enjoying the music and editing the photo sequences of the music video you were working on.

The chaos was within both of your hearts, which could have served as background percussion to the instrumental piano music the two of you were listening to on your phone. The chaos also came with Hoseok’s call, which interrupted the music. Taehyung was too concentrated to even notice, so he kept helping you organize the video footage on the other computer. Meanwhile, you answered the call, oblivious to what your friend might have in mind to call you at this time.

“Y/N!” His voice rang through yours and Taehyung’s ears. Taehyung was still too concentrated to notice he was still listening in with your earphone, and you seemed to have forgotten as well—too concentrated on the gummies and the photo frames.

“How’s the video going?” Hoseok asked, actually uninterested in that piece of information, so you didn’t have time to answer. “Has anything happened?” he continued, his tone meddling, but you didn’t think much of it. “Tell me my plan worked and you ended up working with Taehyungie all by yourself and now the sparks are flying—“

You turned the Bluetooth off right away, but the audio only switched to the speakers on your phone. Taehyung did hear what Hoseok said from the moment he heard his name, so he was now looking at you with a sweet smile on his face.

“—your moment to tell him you like him.”

You hurried to end the call, even knowing that there was no way to erase Hoseok’s words or prevent Taehyung from hearing them. However, before you could disconnect, Taehyung gently stopped your actions by placing his hand lightly over yours.

“Y/N will call you back, Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung said out loud, leaving Hoseok speechless until he ended the call himself.

The silence was uncomfortable for you, but Taehyung was the calmest he has been since you arrived at the studio and found out you were going to work on your video without Hoseok’s help. He knows Hoseok can be playful and joke around with you, but he is sure about him never lying or exposing someone’s feelings just to play mind games.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t!” Taehyung held your hand just a little bit tighter. “I like you.”

Your heart steadied.

“I like you,” Taehyung repeated, but more to himself in case he had only said it in his mind.

“I… I like you too,” you giggled less nervously than you had done before.

Taehyung smiled fondly at the memory. “I'll never forget how nervous I was that day. I thought my heart might burst!”

His laughter faded as tender affection welled in his gaze. “Yet your smile, your sweet spirit—they gave me courage, and that moment was the best birthday present. Ahh… Hoseok hyung’s meddling ways were on the dot.”

You giggled at his unique expression, making you miss him even more. A comfortable silence fell as he reminisced. It had been the beginning of everything. Now, a year later, distance kept you physically apart, but your bond remained strong as ever.

“I really miss you so much, Y/N. But hearing your voice, remembering that day... it makes this all feel okay somehow. As long as we have each other, I can bear anything.” He sighed contentedly.

“You’ve always had me, even just as friends, and you’ll always have me; you can be sure of that. I’m here to stay.” You heard his breath getting caught through the phone, so you hurried to keep the mood light. “Wanna know what happened to someone on the staff?”

His laugh was soothing as you told him about the monkey stealing the microphone and the staff member’s snack and how you ran around trying to get it all back. Nevertheless, time seemed to fly by as you shared your anecdotes about your trip.

“It’s getting late for you, isn’t it? We only have about ten minutes more, but you also must be tired,” he said with a soft sigh. As much as he dreaded ending your call, your well-being always came first for him.

You smiled as you played with the necklace he gave you a couple of months ago, a token for you to keep him close while he was away on duty. “I wanted to wait until the end. I planned today and tomorrow’s activities so I could talk to you.”

“I don’t want to keep you, jagiya, though I may be selfish and wish to hear your voice all day long.” A gentle giggle escaped him. “I suppose I’ll just have to settle for dreaming of you instead.”

You laughed with him. “Tae! But did you already call your family? Don’t spend this time only talking to me!” You deviated bashfully.

“I did; I just saved most of my time for you… you’re farther away. But promise me you’ll rest well tonight, for my sake, if not your own. Your health and happiness must come before all else, even talking to a lovesick fool like me.”

“Another lovesick fool on the other side of the world wants to keep talking. I promise I’ll rest well.”

Taehyung agreed to your request. He was more than happy to share some more minutes with you over the phone. Your promise remained, with only cheerful moments while you two were apart. Soon enough, you will be able to see him when you come back, and visits are available.

When the moment to say goodbye finally came, you were almost asleep. “See you soon, Taetae! Be safe and have a happy day.”

“Rest well, Y/N! I love you.” His send-off only managed to wake you up. You were unable to contain the laughter bubbling within you; it couldn’t have been more true to character of him to say those words so casually and all at the same time figure it out in a nervous attack that ended up the call.

Only a minute later, you saw the incoming call from him and immediately answered. “I love you too!”

#happy birthday taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts #bts fanfction #bts v #birthday fic #exouniverse

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 8 months

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epitome of love - Jimin drabble

Happy Birthday Jimin!

warnings: Not really a proper fic, just pure fluffy, emo thoughts about the angel that is Jimin. Literally, just a random drabble for Jimin's bday because I love him so much and I don't know how else to express it. Not proofread though. a/n: I wanted to write something a lot proper and planned for his bday but once again school has been maddening and this is all I could do! Anyhoooo, Happy birthday to the prettiest boy

masterlist

It was like watching a flower bloom during a pleasant spring morning every time Jimin smiled. The way his eyes turned into crescent moons that disappeared as his plump pink lips curved up lighting up the entire world.

You'd known Jimin since he was a little boy, with the same crescent moon eye, bright smile, and a delicate beauty in every movement. Even through his years of inexplicable anger and hot tears, he had looked nothing less than an angel. Growing alongside him felt like having your own guardian angel next to you.

His tenderness mustn't be mistaken for weakness, for Jimin is arguably one of the strongest humans this earth has seen. For someone who could break a log of wood into two with his bare hands and break stages with his sheer presence, he chose to be kind, polite, grateful and tender.

You had stood on the sidelines watching as the world analyzed him, criticised him, adored him and loved him. You remember the nights he was so fragile from withstanding the sheer intensity of the hate from bystanders who'd never understand the art and love that this angel of a boy and his brothers pour out into the world. On the other hand, you had been blessed enough to witness countless tears of epiphany and insurmountable love that millions of people poured onto him. And how gracefully he soaked it all up and gave it back multifold.

Growing up you'd seen Park Jimin be the constant ray of light through the harshest nights of winter. You'd seen his wax and wane like the moon- thriving on borrowed love and happiness when he tried his best to keep his smile afloat in the rampant wave of hate and pain.

You saw the tears that glistened on his bruised face, patching the pieces of wounded hearts around the world. His ability to illuminate rooms and stadiums across the world with love and joy was also why he crawled into your embrace in a frail state. The way his face still lit up, albeit like the shy sun on a harsh winter day, as his body gave out into exhaustion was proof enough that Jimin was the personification of love and everything good and pure in this world.

You never needed words to define what you felt for him, there was no necessity. Jimin had leaned into your touch since the time you had been playing in a kiddy playground in your diapers. Jimin had held you close, the love flowing out of him like the river of gods as he nursed you back to happiness.

The boy who had sat under the stars, pouring out his adoration for the universe, was the same man under the powerful lights with eyes like fire. He was always the same person and no amount of worldly glamour had stopped him from dragging you out to a hilltop at 6 am to watch a sunset right after a strenuous performance just hours prior.

Jimin stood strong as an oak tree. swaying along like the angelic winds of autumn air and caressing bruised hearts with a single smile through hurricanes and storms. Jimin will continue being everybody's angel and your soul. He is the angel that the universe has lent the earth to spread his wings and light up every side he gazes.

You never needed to be in love with Jimin...

Jimin is Love.

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sopebubbles · 2 years

Text

Chapter Fifteen

Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you’ve gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you’re far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they’d do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?

Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc

Warnings: body dysmorphia/yn trying to hide her scars, lots of fluff here tho AND THE SEXUAL TENSION AHHH (no sex here tho)

A/n from beastie🐾: sopebubbles 🧼 really out did herself here. This is all her! my brain has been all kinds of goo, so I've really been no help in the plot development department. but honestly, I'm really glad because I don't think I would have written this half as well as she did (my exact words to her were: "Forget screaming into your pillow, this is tearing your pillow open with your teeth and thrashing around your room." lmaooo) I know you all will enjoy this chapter as much as I did!

Word count: 9.3K

<-previous | masterlist | next->

Hoseok had heard you speak his name, and he was sure, even through all the fog, that it wasn't a dream. He heard you blame yourself for what had happened to him, but he knew that these risks were part of the life he led, a life he chose and wouldn't change. Even if you were caught up in a messy web together, he wouldn't blame you, ever. He wanted to tell you that, but he couldn't open his mouth to speak, barely even able to breathe. He felt your fingers skim the back of his hand, but he couldn't make his hands move to reciprocate the touch. He couldn't raise his arm to grab your wrist as you turned away. Turned to leave. He wanted to stop you, but he couldn't lift himself out of the heavy, morphine induced slumber covering him like a weighted blanket.

He heard Yoongi stop you. He heard Yoongi say all the things he wouldn't be able to say even in the clearest of head spaces. And then the two of you were gone and Hoseok went back to sleep.

When you awoke, the sun was already up, higher than it usually was when you got up. You felt tired, from the inside out, although you had slept better than you had in weeks. The bed you were in was comfortable, softer than your own. When your eyes opened completely you saw Yoongi, laying a foot away from you, hair messy and his cheek squished against his pillow. You remembered how you had fallen asleep with your head on his chest last night, and it made you ache to fill the distance between you again. But that was last night, and now it was morning. Would he still feel the same now as he did when he was tired and the moment was critical?

You should get up and go to the kitchen, find Jungkook, and act normal, if you could. You were staying but that didn't mean you had to stay in this bed, even if it was comfortable and inviting and you very deeply wanted to.

A new concern crossed your mind. What if you weren't here when Yoongi woke up? He would worry. Maybe even panic that you had left while he was sleeping. And that would hurt him, wouldn't it? Or at least scare him. Was it arrogance to believe so? Did you give yourself too much importance? It would be better to stay put until he woke up and made a polite excuse to leave or found a nice way to ask you to go. You didn't want to make him worry.

As if Yoongi could sense the potential energy generated by your thoughts, his hand reached out for you. A muffled, mumbled "Val," left his lips and his fingers searched for you across the cool sheets. They met with a fabric of a different texture, his t-shirt draped over your body, drowning you even more than it did him. His fingers curled into the fabric, gently pulling, too tired to really drag you toward him. Without even thinking you scooted yourself closer to him, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you until your chests were pressed together. His lips landed on your forehead.

"Still here," he mumbled against your hairline.

Your fingertips drew circles in the fabric of the shirt he wore. "I'm still here. Is that okay?"

"'S perfect," he smiled sleepily. Yoongi felt torn between staying in a soft, warm heap with you, lingering on the edges of consciousness. If you both stayed like this you wouldn't have to think about right or wrong or consequences. You could simply enjoy the comfort of each other's presence. On the other hand, he sensed that you were more awake than he was, and that meant you were probably already thinking. He should wake up and speak with you properly, to let you know that he still felt everything he had said the night before and so much more. That he cared for you and he wanted you to stay. That whatever you wanted was okay with him as long as you wanted it. So he tried to come above the drowsiness, but you were so warm and he was so comfortable.

While he was trying to wake up, he failed to notice how you melted into him, how you let yourself relax against his chest and nuzzled into his neck. Then your lips grazed his skin. They pressed against his jaw. Your mind had cleared of thoughts but felt hazy, and you unself-consciously allowed your body to seek him out and find comfort in him. Your lips had just found the corner of his mouth and he turned slightly to catch your lips when a sleepy groan reached you from the other room.

"Hoseok," you whispered, frozen in Yoongi's embrace.

"Uh uh," he mumbled against your lips. His body pushed back against yours, not wanting to let this moment be ripped from his grasp. Another, unidentifiable sound emanated from the other room.

"Yes, it is!" You smiled and pulled yourself away from him quickly, leaving Yoongi bereft.

In haste, you ran out unthinkingly, not considering your state or who else might be out there. You hadn't thought about only being in Yoongi's shirt and your underwear, or that Jin would already be by his lover's side. You stopped abruptly in the doorway when you saw both men. The extra large shirt may have fallen to your thighs, but it left just enough to the imagination to inspire thoughts in each man's mind.

"You're awake," you smiled as both men stared at you.

Yoongi appeared behind you, his head peeking over your shoulder, visible to both men.

"Am I still dreaming?" were Hoseok's first words, uttered in a raspy, mumbled Korean.

"I'm not entirely sure," replied Seokjin, still gaping at your appearance.

Before you could turn to disappear and put on pants or offer any semblance of explanation, the door to the clinic burst open to introduce a breathless Jungkook.

"Val is–" his eyes scanned up and down your body. "Gone," the word fell empty from his lips.

"No. Just her pants are," Hoseok grinned.

You turned instantly, understanding their Korean well enough to feel embarrassed, and pushed past Yoongi to go find some bottoms to put on. When you bumped Yoongi's shoulder he couldn't help the teasing smirk that lit up his face as he met Jungkook's eyes across the room.

While you were trying to get your feet into the correct holes of the jeans you had discarded last night, a sleepy Taehyung and an even sleepier Jimin joined Jungkook in the doorway.

"What's going on?" Tae wondered aloud, rubbing the heel of his palm into his right eye. His voice came out quiet and deep.

"She's not anywhere!" Namjoon came behind them, herding the youngest men into the clinic that was much too small for all seven of them. "All the cars are here. How did she go?"

"I didn't go anywhere!" You grunted from the other room as you jumped into your pants. When you came back to the door your shirt was still hiked up, showing a small sliver of your taught stomach as you did the top button. The other three stood staring at you, eyes wide and mouths agape just as the others had done.

"You slept with Yoongi hyung?" Jimin asked, impressed and amused.

"We just slept," Yoongi corrected calmly but there was a warning in his voice.

"Well, and we kissed a little," you admitted, a small smile creeping across your lips.

"You guys kissed?" Jungkook sputtered.

"Before you, as a matter of fact," Yoongi grinned back.

"Oppaaa," you whined as your cheeks and neck warmed.

"Sorry," he murmured, brushing a hand against your elbow and giving you butterflies. Only Jin noticed, and he found it rather sweet.

"You bastard!" Jungkook cried, enthusiastic rather than angry. "You sat there at dinner last night and asked if I used protection, while you were keeping a secret!"

"Guys!" You wailed to stop the embarrassment they were heaping onto you. That Yoongi had really asked that. That Jungkook had been discussing what you did together at dinner. It was absolutely mortifying. "Please, let's focus on what matters." You moved to perch on the very edge of Hoseok's bed. "Hobi is awake."

"Hobi was awake yesterday," Jimin informed you, leaning into Taehyung's shoulder. "I want to hear about this kiss!"

Taehyung gave the smaller man a harsh sideways glance and pushed him back with his shoulder.

You ignored them and looked at Hobi. "You were?"

He nodded, an unreadable smile on his lips.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, or I would've come to see you."

"I understand. You had a lot to hide from, apparently." His smile became playful and you had to remind yourself that he was still healing to stop yourself from punching his arm. You glared at him instead and got off his bed.

Noticing your discomfort, Jin chose to change the subject. "Now that everyone is together again, Jungkook, we should celebrate your birthday properly."

Your eyes darted up to Jungkook's. "Today's your birthday?" You'd almost missed it. You'd almost left. You never really got to celebrate special occasions and you'd almost missed one.

Jungkook smiled affectionately at you, a slight tilt to good head. "It was yesterday."

"Oh. I didn't-I don't…" You had nothing to give him. Even if you had known you'd still have nothing to give him, nothing to add to the celebration.

Jungkook shook his head at the silly thoughts he could read on your face as if you had a cartoon bubble over your head. He grabbed your hand and pulled you toward him. "Believe me, beautiful, you made it one of the best birthdays ever." He held you against his chest in a light, but comforting hug, resting his chin off your head before he added, "even if you slept in Yoongi hyung's bed."

You pushed away from him and made a face at his teasing, but you both knew there was nothing in it. There was too much joy in his eyes for you to feel any criticism.

"So what would you like to do, Kook?" Namjoon asked, threading a firm hand through his lover's hair. It was the most intimate gesture you'd ever seen between them in front of the whole group, but you were sure by the lack of reaction from the others that you were the only one who wasn't used to it. Maybe you just had never noticed before, too wrapped up in your own thoughts to mind what they were doing. Or maybe Namjoon was just feeling touchy this morning. You’d never know that the truth was he wanted to be touching you, but he could tell how uneasy all the attention was already making you, so he didn't want to add to it. Even though the first thing he felt when he saw you was relief so strong he wanted to wrap his arms around you.

Jungkook only dragged his eyes up and down your body once again, thinking that what he would like to do only involved one of the other men in this room and you. In the growing silence, Jimin offered, "we should have a pool party!"

All six men turned their heads to him, some with raised eyebrows.

"Not one of those pool parties," he amended. Not the kind that involved dozens of scantily clad men and women and a variety of drugs. "Just us, and Val."

At that, most of the attention in the room returned to you. Taehyung watched you with wary eyes, wondering if you would protest, wondering if you would own up to the fact that you didn't even own a bathing suit. He and Yoongi watched as you carefully folded your arms over your middle, as if you were already building up the shield around yourself.

Your throat bobbed before you said, "what about Hobi? He won't be able to swim."

Hoseok smiled up at you, warmly this time. "I don't mind sitting in the shade with Yoongi and watching."

"You don't swim?"

"You know cats don't like water," Jungkook answered with a teasing grin before Yoongi could respond. When Yoongi fired a lethal glare back, you wondered if this was Jungkook's regular teasing or if it was something more like rivalry.

"It's settled, then," Seokjin decided. "I will make some snacks, Val is on drinks, Taehyung is on music, and the rest of you can find something useful to do."

"Drinks? It's barely 9 am," you noted before they could all disperse on Jin's order.

"Why? Do you have somewhere to be later?" Jin teased.

You bristled. "No."

"Great! Then we'll start with mimosas and move on to margaritas later."

You merely shook your head and watched the others as they filed out of the room. With the space and a little more privacy, Yoongi went to Hoseok's side to look him over. You stood nervously to the side, not quite wanting to go, not sure what to do if you stayed.

"What can I do? Do you need anything?" You asked after a minute of hesitation.

"Can you get me some water?" Hoseok needed it, but more than anything he wanted a moment alone with Yoongi. You nodded silently and left for the kitchen.

"Is something wrong?" The doctor asked when he noticed his patient watching you until you left.

"No. I mean, my ribs hurt and the wound is a little sore, but I feel relieved. Thank you, hyung."

Yoongi wrinkled his brows as he checked Hoseok's arm where the IV was inserted. "What are you talking about?"

"You stopped her from leaving. I thought maybe I had dreamed it, but it was real. And if it wasn't for you, she'd be gone."

Yoongi scratched the back of his neck. "I'm not sure I did the right thing. Maybe it was…selfish."

"It wasn't. We all want her to stay, not just you."

"Just because we all wanted it doesn't mean I didn't do it for myself."

"I don't believe that and neither do you. Neither does Val."

"But if leaving was what she wanted—"

Hoseok looks at the elder with complete sincerity. "It wasn't. And you didn't stop her just because you want her, but because you know she isn't ready. Because she still needs to heal and learn. Running away isn't what she wanted. What she wants is to be loved, and you gave her that."

Yoongi lost his breath for a moment before quietly asking, "What if it isn't enough?"

Hoseok thought of Jin, of how good he was of gluing people back together with careful, considered love. The way he had done it when Hoseok was young. The way he did for Jungkook when he was still just a teenager, with a brotherly sort of affection. It wasn't too late for you. You could join Jin's family of broken toys, held together by love.

"Even if it isn't," Hoseok replied, "we'll all give her every kind of love she needs until she doesn't need it anymore. Until leaving is something she can do and not something she needs to."

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully at that just as you came in with water for the patient. He let Hoseok's words replay in his head and decided he hoped that one day you would leave, to know that you could go anywhere and know that there would be people who loved you. At least one person who loved you. Maybe when you left you'd take him with you.

"Oppa?"

Yoongi shook himself out of his thoughts and the fantasies that he imagined last night, making subtle alterations. He looked at you, eyes endearingly confused.

"Are you sure I can go swimming?" You repeated "I'm not fully healed…"

Yoongi's had tilted in further confusion. In all the days he had begged you to take things slow you had never once agreed with him that you were anything less than perfectly fine. You had jumped at the chance for pilates with Jungkook, had pestered the man for more without asking Yoongi. So why? Why were you hiding behind an injury that even Yoongi knew was healed now. Yoongi considered.

"Can I see your wound?"

You swallowed and gave a small nod. Carefully, you gripped the hem of Yoongi's oversized shirt and lifted it up to the bottom of your breasts. Your eyes glided over to Hoseok. You could have turned away to prevent him from seeing, but you had realized when you helped Yoongi with him the other night that the two of you had a wound in roughly the same spot. You had seen his while he was shirtless on the table under Yoongi's hands, and it gave you the feeling of some kind of equality between you. Besides, Hoseok only held your gaze calmly while Yoongi examined you, his eyes never leaving yours. Only the doctor's words broke your silent moment between his patients.

"I thought so. You're healed. I wanted to see if I could take out the stitches yesterday, but…Anyway, I can take them out now and as long as you let me put some antiseptic on it afterwards, you should be fine." Yoongi watched your face carefully as you lowered your shirt, noticing the misplaced disappointment there. But you nodded your head anyway, not willing to pass up the opportunity to be rid of the irritating threads. Yoongi looked over his shoulder at Hoseok. "We can go remove them in my bathroom, if you want some privacy."

It was a silly suggestion when the current proposal for the day was to let all seven of these men feast on you with their eyes. You rolled your eyes and climbed up on the exam table wordlessly. Yoongi knelt on the ground, reaching under the bed to grip the strap of your bag.

"If you want to change first, you can," Yoongi offered, assuming you would need your things.

You grimaced at him before leaning yourself back. "Just do it."

Yoongi gathered his tools and pulled on a pair of gloves while you settled and exposed your abdomen to him. He trained his eyes on your wound, focusing hard on the stitches instead of the lines that led beneath the waistband of your jeans, and hoping you didn't notice when he slipped.

"So, Val, is it four or five of our members that you've kissed now? Did you and Namjoon kiss yesterday, too?" His voice was full of teasing, deciding it would be better to make you uncomfortable in this way rather than through silence.

You stared a hole into the ceiling above instead of giving him the satisfaction of pointing your glare at him, but your face and your neck were hot.

"First Taehyung, then me, Yoongi, and Jungkook! Who will be next?" Hoseok pushed.

Without pausing his work or shifting his eyes, Yoongi retorted, "if I remember correctly, you kissed her, but she didn't kiss you back. So I don't think that counts."

You turned your head finally and stuck out your tongue at him.

Hoseok laughed hard enough to make his own wound hurt and winced. "So four then?"

You smiled slyly. "And maybe I'll let you be last."

"You're cruel, Val. But I'm a patient man. I can wait."

You closed your eyes, shutting him out as you tried to ignore the want growing inside of you. It wasn't an aching want, not yet. But somewhere deep inside you had begun to wonder just how much these men would really give you. When you opened your eyes to look at Yoongi, he seemed entirely unbothered. You could tell he had mocked Hoseok for his own amusement more than any kind of malice.

When Yoongi finished he stood, but leaned over you before you could sit up. He placed his hands on either side of your head and lowered himself to kiss you. He toed the line between sweet and sensual, his tongue remaining in his mouth, but his teeth nipped at your lower lip before he pulled away to say, just loud enough for Hoseok to hear, "since we got interrupted earlier."

When you reached the top of the stairs you met with Taehyung. Such encounters with you almost never occurred, since he'd been staying in Jimin’s room to help you both have the space that you needed. Now he came to you with an offering. He held in his hands the large stuffed bear that he had won on your very first date. The one you had left him as a reminder. He watched you gulp when you eyed him up and down, slow to meet his gaze.

"So you were going?" Taehyung asked when he saw your heavy duffle bag over your shoulder, although you didn't seem to be struggling under the weight of it.

"I was going to," you said flatly and went quiet. You stared at each other but avoided your faces. You studdied the way his thin veiny hands gripped the cheerful bear, and studied your smaller, calloused hand where you clutch the strap of your bag.

"I don't know what it is," you finally said. "Like an itch under my skin. Something that screams in my head when I make a decision. When I don't know what to do, I can only leave." You sighed and smiled wryly. "One of these days, I'll accomplish it."

Tae replied, "I'm sure you will." He gave the bear a squeeze. "But for now you're staying?" You nodded, your brown eyes looking up innocently at him. "Then, can I give you back your bear?"

"You don't want him?" You stretched out a finger to stroke his snout.

Taehyung shrugged like it meant nothing but his words said otherwise. "Me keeping him just makes me sad, but I hope you can still be happy when you have it. Whatever happened after, whatever we didn't or should have done, that day we were really happy."

You smiled softly at the bear, at the memory of that sun kissed afternoon when you really, truly felt like a new person. When you really felt happy. You held out your open palms to take the gift, and the weight on Tae's chest lifted a little. Your fingertips brushed the backs of his hands as you took ownership of the memory.

"I was really happy, for so much of it. I know it wasn't perfect, but I liked…being her. I wanted to be that way, fun and carefree and wild, but I'm not." You hoped he could finally understand that this was your fundamental problem, not him.

Tae tried to smile, but he didn't quite manage it. "Maybe you can take parts of her into yourself. You are fun, when you let yourself be, even if you can't be carefree."

"I'm still trying to work out…who I'm going to be," you admitted.

This time Tae did smile and it reached all the way to his eyes. "That's good. You should take some time to figure it out. And in the meantime, I just want you to be happy. Whether that involves me or my brothers. Just do what makes you happy."

You both became aware of Jungkook moving around in his room through the door at your back. You thanked Taehyung with a squeeze of your bear and walked into your own room. After placing the gift on your bed, you took your time putting your clothes back in their place. You didn't actually have anything appropriate to wear to a pool party, so you simply slipped on a short pair of athletic shirts and a worn cotton tank top. If Yoongi and Hoseok could sit to the side and still be part of it, then so could you. You could even sit at the edge of the pool and dip your feet in. Still, you dreaded talking about why you weren't fully participating, so you delayed as long as possible.

Instead you let your mind fill with sweeter things, Yoongi's lips, his smell when you awoke in his bed this morning; the way Jungkook and Namjoon looked at each other, at you; how it felt to be held between the two of them. You let those pleasant feelings warmth you up and soothe your nerves. You focused solely on them as you stroked the soft fur of the bear with mindless fingers, until you heard a splash from outside your balcony.

You went to the glass door to have a look. Below, Jimin was already in the pool, Taehyung following close behind with a cannon ball. To the side, under a shaded pergola, Yoongi and Hoseok were already lounging. Yoongi appeared to be covering his face with a healthy layer of sunscreen, while Namjoon spread some over Jungkook's shoulders, although it wasn't clear if he was applying it as much as stroking the man's supple skin. The only one missing was Jin, and you guessed he was still in the kitchen. He had given you a job and you had to get it over with, so you trudged down the stairs.

Seokjin was in the kitchen as expected, chopping fruit and placing it carefully on a large platter. When you moved around him to wash your hands you noticed he had already put out champagne and orange juice alongside a large glass pitcher.

He eyed you up and down. You could see the question in his eyes but you ignored it. "Why do I have to make the drinks?" You asked as you examined the bottle of champagne he had put out. It was obviously more expensive than any you had ever seen at your grungy, old dive bar. Jin watched you to see if you knew what you were doing, but to you a cork was just a cork and you covered it with a dish towel before you began to shift it.

"Because you have the most experience."

You let the cork out with a pop, moving quickly to get the liquid into the glass pitcher without spilling much. "I doubt that. I mean, everyone here must have several years of drinking on me." You gave Jin a teasing smile under your innocent eyes. "Right, Seokjin sunbaenim?"

The man narrowed his eyes at you before he continued chopping. "I was thinking, once everything settles down for you, we could hire you at the club. We could keep an eye on you, and you could get out of the house, make some money."

You stiffened for a moment, but tried to make it pass. "You still don't trust me? Or am I just too much of a burden?" You asked quietly.

Jin immediately put his knife down and turned his whole body to face you. "Val, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry."

You shrugged, but avoided his gaze. "I would understand if you're mad at me, after Hoseok." Your eyes burned with tears.

Jin shook his head. "No, I'm not. No one blames you. Hoseok made his choice. We each did. Honestly, I only meant to give you an option for when this…period of your life is over."

You loosened a breath and let your shoulders sag. "Then thanks, but when things 'settle,' I'll be going."

Jin sucked air through his teeth. "Where will you go? What will you do?"

You shrugged again. "I don't know."

Jin finished chopping up the cantaloupe on his cutting board and speared a cube on the end of his knife, holding it out for you. You took it without hesitation. "Well, think about it. The offer stands." He moved the rest of the fruit into the tray before he said, "I think when the time comes, you should do whatever you want. But you need to know what that is. And until you do, you have a place here. You're not a burden."

"Thank you, Seokjin sunbaenim," you murmured.

Jin smiled fondly. "Now take this out to Hoseok. And oppa will be just fine." He winked before he rushed you out the door with the fruit platter and drink pitcher.

You were so focused on not spilling anything out of the almost-too-full vessel that you didn't pay any attention to the looks you were given as you approached the pool area. Hoseok smiled at you as you set the tray on the table next to him. Someone has already brought glasses out and you filled one before handing it to Yoongi.

"Thank you, Val." Yoongi took the glass and then narrowed his eyes at Hoseok. "None for him."

The injured man scrunched up his face at his doctor. Jimin called your name from the pool. When you turned to look at him, Jungkook was standing at the deep end of the pool, poised to launch himself from the edge in a back flip, but he was still dry in his short swim trunks that showed off his powerful legs. The tattoos that climbed up his arm and spread onto his chest were also on display, a beaming smile topping it all off. The other three men were already wading in the pool. Although you had seen Taehyung and Jimin with their shirts off just a few nights ago, you hadn't yet had the pleasure of Namjoon's bare chest. It took real effort to keep yourself from staring at his broad shoulders and thick muscles, but Jimin demanded your attention.

"Where's your bikini, kitten?" Jimin's voice was a unique blend of pouting, teasing and leering at you. You were sure it was well practiced.

You could feel every eye on you as you stood silently, even Jin's from inside the house. "I don't have one," you admitted.

"You live in LA; how can you not own a swimsuit?" Jimin questioned as he tread water.

You shrugged, trying to make it seem like it wasn't weird. "I just don't."

"But that's the whole point of today." He was fully pouting now.

"I thought the point was to have fun with Jungkook. I can do that while sitting by the side, just like them." You looked over your shoulder at the older men, and Yoongi gave you an affirming smile.

"But-"

"Of course you can, Val. Do whatever makes you comfortable," Taehyung interrupted Jimin pointedly, his words barely escaping through his teeth.

"I'm sure we have a bathing suit that would fit you, Val, if you want to borrow one," Namjoon offered. You silently cursed him as you flushed with embarrassment. They were making this impossible.

Taehyung muttered something under his breath.

"Jungkook, take her into the pool house and help her pick something out," Namjoon ordered him when you continued to hesitate.

Jungkook smiled even brighter and came to take you by the hand, leading you away from the others. As soon as you were inside the small house, Taehyung turned on Jimin.

"What is your problem?" He hissed.

Jimin held his hands up innocently. "What? Don't tell me you don't want to see her in a bikini?"

"She's uncomfortable."

"Well she shouldn't be!"

"She doesn't want–" Taehyung let go of a ragged breath. "She doesn't want you to see her scars, idiot."

Jimin paused. He'd forgotten about that detail about your body. But he pushed it aside anyway. "Who cares?"

"She does!" The other emphasized.

"We need to push her a little out of her comfort zone until she becomes comfortable again! Everything is out in the open now, we might as well take the time to get her used to the idea that we all want her. It will be smoother in the long run." Jimin sounded sure, but Taehyung had to stifle the urge to strike him.

"Jimin, you're done pushing. We all need to act like it's not a big deal because it isn't. Try to make her comfortable," Namjoon growled.

Inside the pool house, Jungkook pulled open a drawer that was stuffed with parts of bathing suits, almost none of them complete. They had accumulated over time, an abandoned top or bottom here and there, until it made quite a colorful collection. Jungkook held up a few tops, trying to judge your cup size. You sighed impatiently before he decided on green bottoms with a yellow string bikini top, both of the colors popping against your rich skin. He held them out to you, but you didn't take them. He scanned your face before he asked warily, "what's wrong?" He wasn't impatient, but concerned.

"Nothing," you snapped as you snatched the green bottoms out of his hands, but his other hand retreated before you could grab it.

"Tell me, please."

You huffed. "I don't want everyone to see," you said thickly, trying to ignore the moisture at the rims of your eyes.

"See…your scars," Jungkook exhaled. He hadn't questioned why you didn't take off your shirt when you had sex in the gym yesterday, and he hadn't put together the pieces this morning. He felt like an ignorant fool, but he had just forgotten that particularly shattered part of you. The moment he saw the tear trip down your cheek, he stepped closer, discarding the offensive garment and cradled your face in his hands. He bent to kiss the tear away, his lips feathering against your cheek before he kissed your lips with the same gentleness. "Fuck Jimin. You don't have to wear anything you don't want to," he murmured as he pulled you against his chest. His hands wrapped protectively around your most vulnerable part. "But…:

You angled your head up without moving from his embrace. "You should know that seeing them won't change anything we feel for you. It won't change how beautiful we think you are."

"Don't say that when you don't know," you choked out.

"But I do know! You're beautiful, even where you're broken." He chuckled as you tried to bury your face in his chest. "I think you should wear it, not for Jimin or for any of us. Just so you can get in the water and have fun with us."

You sighed, pulling away from him. "I don't know."

"I have an idea," he smirked and you raised an eyebrow. Jungkook gripped your hip and spun you around, pulling your back flush against his chest. He wrapped his hands low across your stomach and spoke softly into your ear. "Put on the bikini, and once we get into the water, I'll cover you, just like this. I'll have your back," he smiled and kissed the skin where your neck bent to your shoulder.

A quiet moan left you. "The others will get jealous."

"Ah, so you did notice," he tears, lips still on your skin. "Even though it's my birthday, I don't mind sharing."

You lingered in his arms a moment longer before you groaned, "fiiine. Gimme the damn bikini."

Jungkook grinned triumphantly and picked up the top off the dresser where he'd thrown it.

"Turn around."

Jungkook clicked his tongue but turned. "I've seen you naked before."

"No, you haven't. You've seen me half naked."

"Yeah, so we should fix that."

You ignored him as you shimmied out of your shorts and into the bottoms. You tried to do the strings of the top as quickly as possible, but your shaking hands made it difficult.

"Do you need help?"

"No!"

You finally completed a secure knot and let your hair fall away down your back, hoping it would cover a good portion.

"You go first," you ordered him when you were ready.

"Let me at least see you!"

"Go!"

Jungkook didn't resist looking at you over his shoulder as he opened the door, but he didn't draw it out as he strode out toward the pool. You walked carefully behind him so that his body shielded you mostly from sight. Then he sprinted toward the pool and launched himself into a front flip, creating enough of a distraction for you to sneak to the pool's edge and slip with. Water splashed over Jimin and Taehyung and sloshed over the sides of the rectangular pool. And before anyone but Yoongi and Hoseok had seen you, you had submerged yourself in the water. You emerged, smoothing your hair away from your face while your shoulders remained below the water at the same time Jimin did. He met your eyes.

"Sneaky little kitten," he smirked.

Jungkook used his powerful arms and legs to swim over to you before Jimin could and wrapped himself around you exactly as he promised he would.

"Are you using Jungkook to hide from me?" Jimin asked with an arched brow.

"No."

"She just feels more comfortable with me. I'm protecting her from you." Jungkook made a show of holding you close to him, his thick arms protectively crossed over your stomach.

"You act like I'm gonna pounce on her," Jimin scoffed.

"Ignore Jimin," Taehyung told you. "He's particularly horny today and he tends to get rather predatory. But if he doesn't start to behave I'll put him on a sex ban." He shot Jimin a sharp glare.

"You don't mean that," the man replied seductively. He began to move lazily through the water, keeping his eyes on nothing in particular but conspicuously off of you. Jungkook kept his wary gaze on the man who came subtly closer to you. Just before Jimin could get close enough to touch you, Jungkook spun the two of you away, dragging your body with his through the water, toward Namjoon. You shrieked with laughter at the sudden change, giggling as Namjoon took Jungkook's place at your back. His large hands gripped firmly at your waist, thick fingers sinking into your flesh, causing goosebumps down your arms. He steered you away from where Jimin was struggling against Jungkook and finding himself at quite a disadvantage. Namjoon's broad chest covered your back completely with room to spare, and the heat his skin had soaked up from the sun radiated into your own. He pushed you toward the wall of the pool and caged you there. His hands moved to your arms and soothed down your skin.

"Is this okay?" He asked in your ear and a chill went down your spine. He slid his hands over yours and rested them at your hips, his middle fingers tracing over the top of your bikini bottoms. You went still except to nod. Namjoon's hands continued to roam over your body under the water, one feeling the taut muscles of your abdomen while the other caressed your inner thigh. "You have an incredible body, Val," he murmured, mouth so close to your ear you could feel his breath on your skin. "I can't wait to explore you," he added as his fingertips ghosted over the fabric between your legs.

You squealed when Jimin jumped into Namjoon's back, water splashing around the two of you as he tried to reach for you. Namjoon put a foot against the wall and pushed off, giving you room to move away.

"What's going on?" Jin asked, looking at the commotion in the pool as he brought out two more plates of snacks and set them around Hoseok as if they weren't for everyone.

"I think they're playing keep away with Val. Either that, or fighting to get their hands on her," Hoseok answered as he watched you swim down the length of the pool.

You weren't thinking too much about it as you moved down the wall to the next sheltering body. You encountered Taehyung's legs where they hung into the water from his seat on the hot concrete.

"Hey," you breathed when you looked up at him.

He smiled at you easily and spread open his long legs. "I'll guard you," he promised. You slipped between his knees and he crossed his legs over your chest, letting you hold onto his legs to help keep yourself afloat. You kept your back safely pressed against the cool tile of the pool wall as you watched the other men horseplay, splashing and laughing loudly. Jin handed a glass to Jungkook before slipping into the water, taunting Jimin with something in Korean that you didn't catch. When Jimin slipped out of Namjoon's grasp and moved toward you again, you started, but Taehyung kept you locked between his legs.

"Wait," he said quietly. "I'll tell you when to go."

He let Jimin approach you while the others merely watched and waited. When Jimin was within touching distance of you, Taehyung stuck out both long legs, pressing his feet against Jimin's shoulders.

"Go, Val!" Taehyung exclaimed as he held the other man at bay.

Jimin's face scrunched as he stretched to catch you, but you giggled before you ducked out of Tae's legs. As soon as you were clear, Tae caught Jimin between his feet and pulled him into the spot you had vacated. Jimin's hand reached for you, grazing your arm but you carefully pulled it away and swam for the other end of the pool. Jin came out to meet you in the middle of the pool and towed you to the shallow end.

"Having fun?" He asked as he pulled you through the water.

"Yeah," you smiled more naturally than he thought he had seen before. Yet he noticed how as you got to where you could stand, you kept your shoulders below the water. Jungkook almost moved to take you from him, to cover you again. But Jin caught on without needing to be told and he pulled you against him before propelling you both to the edge of the pool once again.

"Look what I caught for you, Hobi," Jin crooned as he gathered your long hair down the middle of your back.

At the shallow end, you stood in front of Jin and the concrete came up to your ribs, leaving your breasts on display in the slightly too small top that Jungkook had picked for you. You hadn't bothered to say anything to him, since it was clear that getting a good look at you was clearly the purpose anyway.

Hoseok licked his lips when you leaned forward slightly and rested your elbows on the warm concrete. "Thank you, hyung. I love it."

"Are you okay, Hobi?" You asked sweetly as Jin continued to twirl a column of your hair, wringing some of the water out and watching as the water slipped down your back. His eyes traced over the pattern of scars over the majority of your back. He wasn't being a voyeur or looking for pleasure. There was no changing your value based on what he saw. But he needed to know. Hobi watched, knowing as he saw Seokjin’s face the tenderness the older man was willing to give you. It warmed his heart to watch his own lover accept you so completely. While his scars weren’t as physically visible as yours, Hoseok knew the heaviness that came with living with them each day. Slowly, Seokjin had taught him how to trust others to share the weight of that burden and he knew Seokjin could do the same for you too.

"I'm great right now, jagiya." Hoseok smiled at you and your chest heated.

Jin let go of your hair and leaned into you. "Yoongi can you get me a drink please." He said it so casually, politely but in a tone that made it an order rather than a favor.

Yoongi was happy to oblige. He stirred the contents of the pitcher to mix what might have settled and then he poured a glass for Jin. He rose and walked to stand in front you before he crouched down to be almost level with you. Then he handed the glass to Jin.

"Are you doing okay, sweetheart?" Yoongi asked as Jin took a drink.

"I'm good, oppa," you answered happily.

Jin squeezed your side. You turned your head up at him. "Yes, oppa?" You questioned.

Jin's free hand came out of the water to cup your throat, holding your face at that angle before he lifted his glass to your chin. "Open," he said with the same authority he had used on Yoongi a moment earlier.

So you parted your mouth slightly so he could put his glass to your lips. The liquid spilled into your mouth, sweet and sour orange juice coating your tongue, accompanied by the fizz of champagne bubbles. You swallowed a mouthful and both men watched a rivulet of yellow slip down the corner of your mouth. Jin pulled the glass away and released his hold on your jaw. You faced forward to Yoongi again, and he reached out to swipe the liquid back up to coat your lower lip with his thumb. Your breath stopped as Yoongi lifted the thumb to his own mouth. He smiled at the taste of oranges and chlorine, then he walked back to his seat. He opened the book he'd brought outside with him and began to ignore everyone.

Your thoughts became hazy with so many hands on you, so many teasing words, so many longing stares. You were vaguely aware of Jin and Hoseok talking over you, but not enough to tell if they were talking to or about you. To your left, Namjoon and Jungkook were tangled together, caught in their own small moment of wandering hands and soft lips. Whether the words Namjoon was murmuring against Jungkook's skin were sultry or sweet was only for them to know. Jin still stood at your back, but not against you, his hands on the concrete caging you protectively but not possessively.

You sank into the water and moved away from him, deciding your attempts to hide were pointless. They were going to see eventually. They seemed to already know. It wasn't as if they didn't already know you were broken. And they were willing to keep you anyway. You reminded yourself of what Namjoon had told you yesterday about accepting their feelings, that they were genuine. Until you could believe that yourself, you would just have to take his word for it. But you couldn't hide. You let yourself float in the water, felt it glide over your skin like another caress, soaked the sunlight into your cheeks.

You felt a hand wrap around your waist, too gentle to startle you, and you kept your eyes closed as the person pulled you closer.

"You've been running from me, kitten. You're not scared of me, are you?" You knew it was him from his hands, but you opened your eyes to look at Jimin anyway. You turned to have him directly.

"I was just playing, Jiminie. Isn't that what you want? To play?"

Jimin set his hands on your hips and pulled you close to him. To his surprise, you wrapped your legs and arms around him, lazily tracing the crescent moon tattoo at the base of his neck.

"You caught on quick, didn't you?"

You merely shrugged. Jimin's hands clasped behind your back as he moved the two of your weightless bodies aimlessly through the water. "Do you want to play?"

"What kind of game?" You asked it innocently even though you knew Jimin was anything but.

"Any kind. I know a lot of games. Some the others don't like to play." He pulled you tighter to him so your chest didn't lean so far away, so he could speak in your ear. "Maybe there are some things you'd like that you don't know to ask for. Things I could show you. You can come play anytime, with me and Tae."

Your legs squeezed around him and Jimin grinned. You looked over his shoulder to where Taehyung still sat at the deep end of the pool. "Would Tae be okay with that?" After everything, you didn't want to hurt him more.

Jimin chuckled softly. "Yes, he would. I think it would mean a lot to him. Even though he didn't want to share you before, his perspective has changed now."

You leaned back again to look Jimin in the eyes. "Can I ask you something?" He nodded. "Do you still play with Mariana?"

His face went stoney for half a second and then he shook his head.

"Not since the night you found out about everything."

Your brows furrowed just slightly. "Why not?"

Jimin shrugged. He honestly hadn't thought about it. "She was just for fun. A little distraction now and then while Taehyung was with you. She wasn't the only one. But since things fell apart between you two, I've been focusing on him."

You only gave him a squeeze in response and continued to let him float you around the pool for several minutes. After that you let each of them pass you around again, enjoying their touches and kisses. You laughed along with their teasing of one another and listened eagerly to stories they told. Morning turned to afternoon and you'd never been so happy to be tired in your whole life.

You nodded, taking in the information, and leaned into him again, letting yourself enjoy the feeling of his embrace. It was just like cuddling.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” you whispered. Jimin's chest bloomed as you settled into him. He nestled his face in your neck and stroked his thumb up and down an old scar. "I know you have Yoongi and everyone else, but just know you can come to me, too. For comfort or a cuddle or an itch you need scratched."

When everyone decided it was time to get out of the sun, you climbed out of the pool and moved with small but quick steps over to Yoongi to grab a towel from the stack beside him. You wrapped the thick, fluffy towel around your body, disappearing beneath the blue and white stripes. You sat on the other side of Yoongi on the double chaise lounge he had chosen to sit on in hopes you'd eventually find your way there. His book was still open against his knees, but his eyes were on you.

"Having fun?" He asked as he watched you examine your pruney fingers.

Your smile was blinding. "I'm exhausted. I need a nap." You rested your head back against the chaise and closed your eyes, your smile not faltering one bit. Yoongi moved a piece of hair from your face.

"You should go shower. Then you can nap in your bed. The chlorine isn't good for your skin."

You pouted and moaned at his words. Your body angled toward him and inched closer. "But I want to stay with you, oppa. Didn't get to hang out with you all day."

That wasn't entirely true. He'd been there the whole time, sneaking glances above his book to watch you share your joy with the other members. But there had been so much of the others and so little of him. Whenever you were with the whole group you were used to being close to him. He was like a security blanket and even though you had learned today that you didn't need him, you still missed him.

Yoongi's smile only grew more endeared. "How about you go shower and come up and clean your cut and then we can hang out a little bit, just me and you."

You opened your eyes to look up at him. His long black hair waved gently away from his face. His expression was so tender, you melted all over again. You could reach up just a little and kiss him. But maybe he would get tired of it if you did that too frequently. The smile you returned came more from your eyes than your lips when you replied, "come up to my room in ten minutes."

Yoongi knocked softly when he came to your room, worried you might not be ready. But you answered with a quiet command to come in. He found you in your bathroom, tying your damp hair into a thick bun atop your head. The air still hung wetly with the floral fragrance of the products you had used. It was mildly intoxicating. You were dressed already, in a loose pair of sweats that hung low on your hips, a bright strip of your underwear peeking out, paired with an old, thin t-shirt and–he could tell–no bra.

Yoongi swallowed as he stepped into the large bathroom. "I brought a cream that will help reduce the scarring. If you apply it frequently, it should be minimal."

You gave him a tight smile and thanks as you finished securing your hair. "Can I?" He gestured with the containers in his hands. You responded by sitting back on the countertop and lifting the hem of your shirt. Yoongi soaked a cotton ball with the antiseptic he had brought with him and dabbed it gently along the lines of your cut.

"There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he said as he waited for it to dry. "As your doctor."

You chuckled lightly. "Sure."

"Birth control," he uttered, like ripping off a bandaid. You bit your lips together to keep from laughing or from showing how shy you were with your smile. "It's up to you of course. I managed to get a supply of pills, in case you want to start today. But if you'd like another method, I can get you in to see an OBGYN."

You blinked at him. "I'm not so good at remembering to take the pill every day."

"I can help you, make sure you take it on time." He nudged your thigh. "It will give me an excuse to see you."

"This is really happening, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"They all actually want to have sex with me," you almost laughed at how ridiculous it was.

Yoongi blushed, but he tried to ignore it. "We," he corrected, "all want to have sex with you. To be close to you. Not all of us in the same way. We're all different but…we all want to take care of you in the ways we know how." He let you take in his words for a moment, watching your face, but you gave away nothing. "Does that scare you?"

You let out a breath. "I don't know if scare is the right word. It's strange. It's going to take a while to get used to."

"That's understandable. Take everything at your own pace, Val. We'll be here."

You nodded and Yoongi unscrewed the cap on the jar of lotion he had brought you. He dabbed it over your skin with the lightest of touches. Then he straightened up to look you in the eyes.

"I meant everything I said last night, Val. I love you, but I don't mind being only one of many who do. I'll give you anything you need or want from me."

You fisted the front of his shirt in your hands and pulled him between your legs so there was hardly any space between you. You looked at him eye to eye, but almost too close to focus, so close his breath was on your lips.

"You're too—"

"No." He cut you off, hands raising to your shoulders, to tease his fingers along your neck. "Not too anything."

You paused, breathing the same breath, but not moving. "What if I don't know how to love you back, even though I want to?"

His thumb stroked along your jaw. Yoongi knew it scared you. But he also knew you were more than capable of it. He knew you would feel it and show it long before you could recognize it. And even if you didn't, he wasn't sure it would matter to him. "Will you stay until you figure it out or decide you don't want to?"

You nodded slowly. "I'll stay."

"Then there's nothing more to want," he smiled before he kissed you.

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