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kooktrash · 7 months

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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

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jungkookschin · 7 months

Text

older

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

synopsis: all your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, the handsome older man you've known since forever, but you just can't seem to let him go. word count: 18k

pairing: older!jungkook x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), social media au!!!, childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes warnings: character death (not jk or y/n), cursing, nudity,

author's note: i am so overwhelmed with the support i've gotten for this fic!! obviously this isn't going to be the best written fanfic, but i genuinely enjoyed writing it!! and yes, there will be a part 2!

“Girl.. be for real. He doesn’t want you.” Beomgyu’s opinion bounces off your bedroom wall but shoots into your heart like an arrow; you subtly glare at him through your vanity mirror. Though, the Snorlax plush headband and unblended concealer in triangles under your eyes is far less than intimidating.

“Okay, fuck you-”

Beomgyu shrugs. “You can wear all the makeup in the world and you would never get his attention,” he nonchalantly utters, not caring enough to even look at you while he addresses you. You pout, sulking as Beomgyu’s very real assertion settles into your system.

Jeon Jungkook would never see you that way.

He adores you because you’ve been acquainted since childhood- your parents being close friends. He’s seven years older than you and has witnessed you blossom from a childish boy-crazy kid to an equally boy-crazy adult, the same way you’ve seen him go from a prepubescent pre teen to a hot, older, rich, man.

“Look, and that’s not to say that you’re not pretty or whatever because you are pretty and a lot of guys want you, but Jungkook… he’s just too old for you,” he offers you an empathetic smile before attempting to assuage the petulance in the air. “Honestly, I would be even more concerned if he responded to your advances because that would be.. hella weird.”

Beomgyu’s claims often transform your brain into a philosophical battlefield. Would it really be all that inappropriate for Jungkook to see you as a woman? An age gap of seven years holds no real significance if you were both in your 20’s, right? But does Jungkook knowing you since childhood completely nullify any chance you have with him?

“Oh fuck off with that. I’m not a little kid anymore. I’m already 19 years old, almost 20-”

“The delusion is never escaping this one…” Beomgyu mumbles. He finally looks up from his phone when you spring up from your chair and stomp over to him. You hold your manicured claw up to scratch his face, but Beomgyu grabs your wrist before you can do any damage.

“You’re such a horse girl, don’t try to scratch me- wait are you crying?” Beomgyu’s gaze melts after noticing the tears accumulating in your waterline.

“No!” you respond, the tip of your nose becoming slightly red. You raise your sleeve to wipe your nose.

“Wait Y/N! You’re going to get makeup all over my hoodie!-”

Beomgyu halts when he sees your unblended concealer transfer onto his very white and expensive hoodie. His lips form into a straight line while he stares at you blankly.

“Sorry?” you squeak. He gestures dramatically- blinking at you like a pissed off owl.

…

You bolt to the door, sprinting from Beomgyu before he quickly follows in pursuit of you. You run through the house, tumbling down the stairs frantically, and when you turn the corner, you stub your toe against the wall, stumbling over and falling flat on your face.

You shriek in pain, holding onto your toe. Your eyes immediately tear up, sobbing through the pain blistering in your toe. And for some reason, Beomgyu is nowhere to be found.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You freeze when none other than Jungkook pops out of his room, completely shirtless with nothing but gray sweats on. His abs are literally ripping in your face and his entire sleeve of beautiful tattoos are practically mocking you- especially the mask one. It's laughing in your face because it gets to be on Jungkook’s body and you don’t.

You begin to cry even harder. No physical pain would ever compare to the pain of not being able to have him.

“Whoa, whoa, what happened?” Jungkook kneels down and takes your foot in his large hands.

Thank God you got your toes done the day before. His thumbs press into the balls of your feet while he carefully inspects your toes. “Not fractured, I think. Think you can get up, baby?”

Baby. He’s been calling you that stupid nickname since forever. That’s what everybody used to call you when you were younger; you were the youngest of all your parents’ friends’ kids after all. But for some reason, the nickname only seemed to stick with Jungkook. He has this horrible tendency (not really) of doting on you, taking care of you, and spoiling you to oblivion.

You sniffle, shaking your head.

Jungkook’s handsome face crinkles into a subtle laughter, an amused expression etched onto his features. He takes his pointer finger and thumb, pinching your nostrils and wiping your snot onto his sweats.

You smile sheepishly, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

This man will literally touch your feet and boogers as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. That has to mean something, right?

Jungkook scoops you into his arms bridal style and takes you into his room.

Why Jungkook has a room in your house is beyond you. It seems like he was always over doing some errands for your parents- not that you were complaining, of course. He sets you down on his bed and uses his large palm to smooth over the frizzy hairs that are sticking up.

“Just stay here for a while. I’ll take you to Urgent Care if it hurts in a few hours.”

Truth be told, that shit didn’t even hurt anymore, but there’s no way you were going to pass this opportunity up. You nuzzle into Jungkook’s sheets, his masculine smell absolutely amplifying your will to live. His cologne smells so good, the musky elegance of his scent making you dizzy as you bask in his essence.

Anyways! Looks like you’re canceling your plans with Beomgyu. Apparently, he already knows that.

Shutting your phone off, your eyes drift towards Jungkook, owlishly blinking at the computer code projected onto his large monitor. He’s got everything going for him: rich, hot, smart, successful. You want to cry again. “Jungkook, can I ask you something?”

His focus remains on the screen, eyes still boring onto the monitor before he absentmindedly responds, “Sup?”

“What would you do if a bear, a lion, and a gorilla just walked into this room right now?”

Jungkook’s fingers pause, hovering above his light up keyboard. He swivels around in his chair, his handsome features crinkling in evident confusion.

“I’m serious. What would you do if a bear, a lion, and a gorilla showed up in your room? If you aren’t able to answer the question, then I don’t really know if I feel safe here,” you elaborate as you gesture with your hands, the bratty tone laced in your voice attempting to guilt trip him for not having a backup plan for this very specific specific situation.

“Easy. I would feed you to them and then escape,” Jungkook bites back a cheeky smile before spinning around and returning to his work.

You gasp dramatically, pouting before you pull his covers over your head.

Jungkook hums to himself, laughing at how obnoxious you can be.

Later on, another question is conjured in your imaginative little mind, and Jungkook’s lip twitches when he hears your classic Jungkook, I have another question.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you think you could put me on with your piercing guy?”

Jungkook swivels around in his chair once again. “Thought you already had your ears and belly pierced.”

“It’s not enough. I want more. Wanna be like you,” you murmur, eyes settling on his five piercings decorating his left lobe, the one in his eyebrow, and the two on his lips.

“It is enough,” he immediately counters, “You shouldn’t put holes in your body.”

You cock a brow at him. “I know you’re not talking.”

Jungkook’s lip twitches upwards at your cheekiness. “Yea, I’ll send you his instagram. Tell him you’re with me and he’ll squeeze you in as soon as possible.”

“And I told Soobin to not piss in the water bottle, but he did anyway. And guess what? I almost drank from the same water bottle. Can you believe that? I was so fucking pissed at him I almost threw his piss back on him…” Yeonjun can tangibly feel that you’re not all there, your eyes occasionally drifting off- so his eyes follow your train of vision until-

“Oh c’mon Y/N!” Yeonjun’s fingers release the grip on the gym equipment, causing the weights to thunderously slam back into place. You yelp, flinching a bit before you swat Yeonjun’s biceps.

“You scared me you bitch!”

“You scare me! And what the fuck are you wearing? What kind of basic bitch wears a pink set to the gym?”

You gasp dramatically. “You did not just say that.”

“And stop drooling over Jungkook! He doesn’t want you-mmmphh!” You clasp your palm over Yeonjun’s mouth mid-sentence, your boba eyes glaring up at him. You release your hand, pouting at him dramatically when you feel you’ve tortured him enough.

Hands on your hips, you continue glowering at him and he gladly reciprocates the scowl on your lips.

Yeonjun acquiesces from the glare-off almost immediately, too entirely soft to hold a grudge against his best friend. “Did you only agree to come to the gym with me to see Jungkook?” he asks, sincere disappointment laced in his words.

You immediately soften, disheartened to hear the crestfallenness in his tone. You shake your head at the notion. “No- I wouldn’t do that. I swear he’s here by coincidence,” you explain thoughtfully, “I’m sorry for being an inattentive friend. It wasn’t intentional. I just get distracted whenever I see him. I’m sorry.” Your eyes return to Yeonjun’s who smiles knowingly at you. He opens his arms, offering an embrace and you gladly accept, hugging all the problems away.

“You’re such a lovestruck girl,” Yeonjun teases.

“I can’t help it. He just looks so good. Look at his arms and his tattoos- oh Yeonjun, I’ll never get over him. What should I do?”

“We just have to kill him. That’s the only option left,” your eyes meet his, his empty gaze boring into your skull before you both burst into giggles.

“You’re right. That is the only option left.” You take a step back to stretch your arms, releasing the tension in your limbs until you sense a very familiar walking pattern approaching you.

“Hey Y/N,” Jungkook casually greets, creeping behind you to wrap a single arm around your shoulder. He pulls you closer to him from behind, nonchalantly nuzzling his forehead into the back of your head. You use both your hands to grip onto his thick forearm. “Um, hey Kook.”

Yeonjun bites back laughter, watching how you practically become hysterical at Jungkook’s casual gesture.

Jungkook uses his vacant hand to dap up Yeonjun- over your head. “What’s up Yeonjun?” Jungkook grins. Yeonjun reciprocates the friendly greeting. “Hey, how’ve you been? You looked great with the tricep presses.”

Jungkook beams at that. “Oh, you saw? I’ve been bulking so I’m trying to go super heavy with the weights.”

“I can tell. You look fucking enormous,” Yeonjun comments.

Jungkook immediately dismisses the compliment with a wave. “Don’t say that. You look good too…”

Tuning out of the interaction, your brain begins to malfunction when you realize that Jungkook is extremely familiar with all of your friends. You definitely aren’t the most social person, often opting to napping in your cozy bed instead of going into the harsh, unforgiving world, but you are lucky enough to have great friends like Yunjin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, and Jungkook knows all of them. That had to be indicative of something deeper, right? Perhaps his underlying affection for you? Or a sign that he was possibly in love with you?

“What are you giggling about?” Jungkook teases, gently using his vacant hand to ruffle your hair.

You crimson intensely. “Nothing,” you sheepishly respond, skitterishly ducking under Jungkook’s arm to scurry behind Yeonjun, using your friend as a protective shield.

“What’s up with her?” Jungkook asks Yeonjun, to which Yeonjun feigns ignorance. “Not a clue.”

“Well then, I’m gonna head out. I’m actually staying at Y/N’s for a bit because her parents are out of town. Can you believe I still have to babysit her?” Jungkook says to Yeonjun, giving you a teasing glance.

“It’s just in case someone stalks me or tries to kill me! I don’t need to be babysat,” you emphasize, scowling at Jungkook and he can’t help but to reach out and pinch your cheek. The casual gesture sends you over the moon.

“Whatever you say. You need a ride home though? I can wait so Yeonjun doesn’t have to waste gas on you,” Jungkook suggests, eyes darting towards yours then Yeonjun’s to detect any traces of reticence or hesitation in his features.

You do the same, glancing towards Yeonjun who actually sports a look of indifference. You playfully link your arms with Yeonjun’s before sending Jungkook a downward smile. “It’s okay Kook. Wanna spend time with my friend today.”

A touched gasp leaves Yeonjun’s lips as he holds his hand over his heart, gesticulating dramatically to convey his surprise that you would choose him over the man you’ve been salivating over the past thirty minutes.

Jungkook has no protests about your preference. “Alright Y/N, see you at home. See you Yeonjun,” he gives you a little squeeze before he departs.

Yeonjun waits until Jungkook is out of ear shot to provoke you, mocking you in an obnoxious, high pitched voice, “I don’t need to be babysat! You’re such a baby- but thank you for choosing me, you know.”

You tilt your head, eyebrows pinching before you subtly frown at Yeonjun’s comment. “Of course I would choose you. You’re my friend.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world- because it kinda is. Bros over hoes any day.

Yeonjun’s lips quirk up at the sentiment, “Oh how touching, thank you so much for gracing me with your presence, my queen.”

Jungkook thinks you can be such a princess sometimes, especially when you drag your feet back into the house, a sour expression consuming your pretty features. Particularly receptive to your emotional fluctuations, he doesn’t hesitate to ask you what’s up.

He leans against the kitchen counter, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows as his eyes settle on your moping figure. “Who made you sad? Bring them to me right now,” he muses.

You pause, letting your light green gym bag (with little Snorlax’s decorated all over it) fall to the floor with a thud before gazing at him with a vacuous expression. “Why are you dressed up?” you point towards his work attire- a simple white button up and slacks. The buttons on his dress shirt are undone and messy, giving you access to his chest and it makes you want to roll around on the floor and cry. His slacks are tight- accentuating his long, muscular legs and you decide that you’d be okay with dying only if you were suffocated between his thighs.

“Had a work call,” he responds, indifference laced in his voice, “Now who made you sad? Want oppa to handle it for you?” he teases, releasing a breathless laugh at the way your nose scrunches up in disgust.

Nonetheless, you spill everything to Jungkook- because you always spill everything to Jungkook and because you trust him with everything in you. He makes you feel safe. Plopping yourself down on the seat by the dining counter, you wordlessly slide your phone across the counter. Jungkook effortlessly stops your phone with a single hand, his eyes scanning across the array of text messages popping up on the screen.

“Not this guy again,” he mutters under his breath, gauging the situation.

“I know!” you concede, “Wish he would leave me alone- but I feel like I have to respond.”

The text messages were from none other than your ex-boyfriend, telling you how much he misses you, how he’ll do better for you, and every other generic I want you back text in the book.

There are various reasons why you feel obligated to respond to him: (a) the whole breakup was a mess and (b) it was your fault. You were in a long-term, committed relationship with your high school sweetheart until you recognized your exponentially growing feelings for Jungkook. The guilt of breaking your ex’s heart haunts you- his crying, tear-stained face often popping up in your mind when you feel shitty, making you feel even shittier. Though you were no longer emotionally tied to him you do feel obligated to give him closure, or at the very least respond to his text messages.

But you’ve had this conversation with your ex numerous times. How much closure does one need in order to move on?

“You don’t have to respond to him,” Jungkook’s sonorous voice pulls you from the thoughts plaguing your mind. “You’ve already told him how you feel,” Jungkook is the rational force in your life, always tugging you towards the right direction, especially when your susceptible mind feels the need to please everyone and everything.

“I know,” you sigh, “I just feel bad. He was my first kiss, first boyfriend. It feels like I just abandoned him.”

A look of contemplation blankets Jungkook’s handsome face, evident by the way his fingers trace over his chin and lips. “That’s true,” he eventually asserts, “but no one as young as you should stay in a relationship out of obligation.” He approaches you and settles himself down on the vacant seat beside you. “Actually Y/N, I’m proud of you for building up the courage to let him go. It would be more painful if you forced yourself to stay.”

You purse your lips and nod, allowing yourself to enjoy the sensation of Jungkook comfortingly rubbing your back. “t’s just sad. I used to love him.”

“I know Y/N, but sometimes you just have to start living in the present instead of the past. If you respond you’re just going to give him false hope. Just let it be,” he articulates, using prudence to assuage you.

You nod, craning your head to sustain eye contact with him, making the conversation feel all the more intimate and personal, “How would you feel if you were him? I mean- if your girlfriend broke up with you and you were still like- in love- with her?”

He tilts his head, thoroughly contemplating the question because he takes your feelings seriously, and he wants to give you the right answers. “If my girlfriend loses feelings then she loses feelings, there’s nothing I can do about it. I definitely wouldn’t beg for her back, I’d go out and make a lot of money instead,” he smiles, “But I wouldn’t know how it feels. I’ve never been dumped before,” he adds.

“Seriously?” you interject, not believing that Jungkook has never been dumped in his 26 years of living. “What about that one girl you brought to Thanksgiving Dinner a few years ago? What happened to her?”

“Ahh her?” he somewhat grimaces at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, “She was getting a little too suffocating so I let her go. She was really pissed off- tried to key my car and shit,” he states.

You gasp. His ex-girlfriend was so sweet to you- she even bought you a Snorlax plush keychain. But you can imagine Jungkook trying to hold her back while she jostles out of his grip, trying to key his car- his baby. “No way? If she ever comes back, just let me know. I’ll throw hands for you,” you enunciate, showing him your fists to which Jungkook just scoffs in amusement.

“Yea, I’ll definitely call you,” he remarks sarcastically before getting up, “So are you good, baby?” he asks, casually resting his hand on your shoulder, and you nod.

“‘M good. I’m not gonna respond to him.”

Jungkook’s lips quirk up at that. “Good.”

Jungkook is livid. You can tell by the way he spam calls you even after you repeatedly reject his calls. You quietly sneak out of the lecture hall and answer his call once you’ve reached the hallway.

“What? I’m in class,” you impatiently mutter.

“You’re fucking kidding, aren’t you?” he scoffs through the phone, “I canceled your appointment, by the way.”

The color drains from your face once you realize what this is about. “He told you?”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you thought you could go through me to get your nipples pierced! I can’t believe you thought I would let you do that!”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” you whisper shout into his phone, “I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want!”

“No you’re not. Baby, you can’t even drink,” he reiterates, a little more calmly this time.

“Who cares? You’re not my mom! I can do whatever I want. Even if it’s through someone else!” you bark back. The silence that ensues intimidates you.

“Baby.” His voice is low, and it’s kinda hot but you don’t pay attention to it because of how angry you are at him trying to monopolize your actions.

“I’m not a fucking baby anymore so stop calling me that!”

“You’re not a baby?” Jungkook laughs lowly into the phone, as if the claim itself is ridiculous.

“‘m not.” He can practically hear your pout through the phone.

“You can’t even get on a plane by yourself.”

You gasp at Jungkook’s low blow. That was one time. A month ago, you took a flight to Vegas for EDC to meet up with Yunjin, who flew out the day before you. But you had no clue how to check your bag in, and were far too intimidated to go through the security check by yourself. What if they thought your ID was fake? Or worse what if they sent you to jail? There was just no way you could go through by yourself.

You remember the way Jungkook shook his head at your preposterous notions but nonetheless still agreed to take care of you.

So Jungkook drove you to the airport, carried your bag for you, weighed it, and checked it in. He also stood with you for the entire thirty minute wait at security and only left the airport when called and told him you were waiting at the departure gate.

You don’t respond, and he takes it as an opportunity to further his point.

“That’s what I thought. End of story. You’re not getting it done.”

He hangs up and you blissfully sigh. This literally takes feminism back 32904098 years, but you kind of love a man that can put you in your place.

Jungkook goes to the gym everyday solely so he can beat the shit out of Taehyung and Mingyu, who get off on tormenting him for his extremely complex and profound feelings for you.

Hooking up to the bluetooth speaker and blaring the sound of police sirens, going “Ayo! He’s right here, officer!” every time they walk past a policeman- they even go as far as putting handcuffs on him while he sleeps- hooting and howling in laughter when Jungkook wakes with his hands restrained.

Initially, it made his intestines twist and turn with pure guilt, guilt about harboring feelings for you, the little girl who used to prance around his room and do cartwheels in futile attempts to impress him.

His friends make him feel like shit, but they’re his friends for a reason.

“Hey, so how’s Y/N?” Mingyu casually asks, sinking into the welcoming leather of Jungkook’s sleek, black sofa. He props his feet up on Jungkook’s coffee table- mahogany brown and custom designed to suit Jungkook’s meticulous and elegant taste.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the nonchalance of the comment, half expecting Taehyung to pop out of nowhere in policeman cosplay, ready to put him in cuffs. “Why’re you asking?”

When Mingyu detects the hostility blanketing Jungkook’s features, his jaw drops in realization of the reality of the situation. “Wait.. you don’t take us seriously when we tease you about that shit, right?”

Jungkook cocks his head in confusion, settling beside Mingyu, chopsticks in hand as he blows on his ramen. “I mean, kinda. I feel guilty about it.”

Mingyu eyes his friend for a while, and Jungkook slowly turns his head towards Mingyu when he feels lasers boring holes into his skull. “What, asshole?”

“Ah, sorry man. I didn’t know it bothered you. I kind of thought it was a given that you and Y/N are cute together. Didn’t know the age gap bothered you.”

Oh.

Jungkook pauses, setting his sizzling ramen back into the plastic container instead of into his mouth, and Mingyu feels the need to further elaborate.

“I mean, you’re always helping her out, taking care of her, that’s pretty cute.”

Jungkook blinks at Mingyu, raking his tattooed hand through his hair. “Doesn’t that just make me look like a dumbass?” he mutters, before letting out a bitter, light-hearted laughter at the reality of his assertion.

His emotions for you run deep and intricate, but one thing remains unequivocally clear: he doesn't do these things because he expects something in return. That would be selfish. Obligation doesn't factor into his decisions either. Jungkook doesn't subscribe to such motivations when it comes to his personal life. He views it as unnecessary and cumbersome—except when it involves you. Whether it's looking after you, lending you money, helping you with homework, or driving you to the airport, he does it all because he genuinely loves you.

He acknowledges the peculiarity of his natural inclination to care for you. In the past, he's ended numerous relationships due to girls he found excessively clingy, suffocating, or overbearing, all attributes he easily uses to describe you- but he lives for that shit when it comes to you.

Mingyu’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “What? That girl loves you, Jungkook. If she does good in school and gets rich, you’d be bathing in that shit,” Mingyu jokes, causing Jungkook to sputter out laughter at the absurd thought.

“Right now though?” Mingyu continues, “She wouldn’t be able to change your tire or some shit, but she brings you this sense of peace, and that’s something every guy needs in his girl.”

Jungkook pauses at that.

Jungkook is abruptly awoken by the blaring sound of his ringtone. Groggily, he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, eyes barely open.

You, the only person that would call him at 3 in the morning, and you the only person he would answer at 3 in the morning.

Babysitting is the last word he would use to explain why he’s at your house right now. He’s at your house because, well, he would do anything for you, even if you aren’t aware of the lengths he would go to keep you satiated and happy.

He’s aware that men find you charming for your ditzy and oblivious nature, but Jungkook likes you regardless of whether or not you possess such an arbitrary trait. But it is true that there are a lot of things you aren’t aware of, like how utterly lovely you are. Jungkook knows you- sees how oblivious you are to the men who shamelessly ogle at you, or the boys who practically break their necks to get a glimpse at you.

You have this resonating effect on him. You drive him crazy and you don’t even know it.

Initially, Jungkook had never truly focused his attention on you, yet as time passed, an irresistible attraction began to pull him toward you. He vividly recalls an incident in particular that left him dumbfounded.

Jungkook’s mom visited yours to drop off some vegetable. Gifting fruits and vegetables from their gardens are the way the aunties demonstrate their love and appreciation for one another. Jungkook reckons you didn’t know he was there because you pranced down the stairs with the tiniest boy shorts and camisole top. Jungkook isn’t the type of man to become disoriented over the sight of a woman’s body, practically desensitized from all the women he’s been with, but he stiffens at your presence.

“Wow baby!” His mother giggles, using your classic nickname as she ogles you shamelessly, “You’re getting really sexy!”

She playfully nudges your mom, “Are you ready to have grandchildren?” The joke makes your mother roll her eyes, though a smile lingers on her lips, infinitely proud of her beautiful daughter.

“I wish someone would marry my daughter!” Your mom jests, “All she ever does is sleep! I just wish a man would even look her way!”

Jungkook’s eyebrows pinch in bewilderment. He knew your mother was only joking, teasing you as per usual- because clearly, you are captivatingly gorgeous. You make a sly comment in return to make his mom giggle, always so smooth and sociable with the old ladies.

Suddenly, you randomly swivel around, yelping at Jungkook’s presence. “Oh hey,” you greet, fidgeting in place, “I didn’t know you were here. Sorry- I should cover up a little.”

For the first time in his life Jungkook is speechless in front of you. You. You just look so pretty standing in front of him, your manicured fingers twirling a single strand of hair, gazing at him and gnawing your lips like he makes you nervous when in reality you make him tremble with just one look. It makes his chest tighten and he inhales deeply to compose himself.

“No. Not at all, you should be comfortable in your own home,” the smile he offers you is forced, polite, and you’re bewildered at the tension accumulating between you and him. Your eyes glint downward; you can’t even look at him, and suddenly a bold wave of impulsivity washes over you.

“Hey Jungkook, can we talk in the other room?”

Jungkook’s eyes flash towards his mother’s then rapidly back at you. Subconsciously, his eyes trace down your body and he feels like has to physically gouge his eyes out to prevent himself from looking.

“Yea, sure.”

He follows you upstairs into the guest room, taking extreme measures to keep his pupils focused on the ceiling lights above your head. However, his efforts work against him because the ceiling lights shine on you like a spotlight, illuminating your gorgeous figure as you make your way up the stairs.

Your fingers wrap around his forearm and you pull him into the room.

You waste no time getting straight to the point.“Jungkook, I think I’m pregnant.”

Jungkook blinks, processing what you just said. “Huh?”

You bite your lip anxiously, crossing your arms while you look down at your toes. “My period is late, and I don’t know what to do- you’re the only person I trust to talk about this.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to confirm the sentiment. “You can trust me with anything. I’ll always take care of you- ‘m just a little shocked because I thought you were still a virgin.”

Gasping dramatically, you pout at him and stomp your foot. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Yea, clearly not, he thinks. “Just act normal. After I drop my mom off at home I’ll come back with a pregnancy test.”

You nod and give him a downward smile. “Thanks- ‘m just really nervous and I hope I’m not pregnant because I don’t even remember who the dad is and-“

Jungkook frowns at that, perturbation morphing onto his features. “Y/N, you don’t remember who the dad is? Please don’t do that- only sleep with people you trust. Please.”

“I trust you.”

The words tumble from your lips immediately, before you can even process your thoughts. You clasp your hand over your mouth, a small gasp leaving your lips as you gaze up at him in pure horror.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to think- doesn’t even know if that was just a fragment of his imagination. He blinks at you, brain too fused to even conjure a proper response.

“Wait- I didn’t mean it like that!” you blurt out. At that moment, you give up on any attempt to salvage the situation and scurry out of the room, stumbling back down the stairs.

Jungkook runs his hands over his face.

He’s going to hell for the thoughts running through his mind.

Thank God you weren’t pregnant but after that night Jungkook just never looked at you as just a family friend. It’s complicated . It’s morally conflicting, and it frustrates Jungkook like nothing else.

“Hello?” he speaks into the phone

“I bled on my bed,” you sniffle into the phone, “Just please come upstairs,” you say before abruptly hanging up.

He begrudgingly rises from his bed. Though tired, he doesn’t hesitate to throw his black t-shirt over his head to look presentable for when he checks up on you. Rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his black sweats as he makes his way up the stairs. He gently opens the door to see you sitting idly under your covers, clinging onto your Snorlax plushie for dear life. You’re wearing

He sits on the edge of your bed. “You ran out of pads?”

You don’t say anything, remaining stiff like an ice sculpture, not melting under Jungkook’s warm touch like you usually do.

He nods at you and gently tugs on your oversized T-shirt, urging you to get up as he sticks out his hand. “Change the sheets and I’ll go out and buy you some pads-“

“Jungkook, I'm in love with you.”

Abrupt.

Impulsive.

Messy.

But you feel like you just have to say it. With a radiant glow on your rosy cheeks, you purse your lips in a demure manner, physically unable to look at him. You have to look at Snorlax to get your words out instead.

You inhale deeply. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry if it creeps you out but I’ve always had feelings for you- and I hate you for it because I don’t think I’ll ever have the capacity to love anyone else like I love you.” With glossy eyes you finally peer at him just to see an entirely indecipherable expression- you’re not sure if it conveys shock, bewilderment, or horror but it evokes the most unsettling and humiliating sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Just as day transforms into night, humiliation morphs into anger, and anger morphs into nonsensicality. Outrage bubbles within you and you chuck the Snorlax plushie at his face.

“Fuck you! How can you treat me the way you do and expect me not to feel anything?! I emotionally cheated on my ex with you! You’re the fucking worst and I hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” Your hands frantically search for every single squishmallow, plushie, and teddy bear you have and you violently chuck your beloved squishies at him. From zero to one hundred, you’ve escalated rapidly and you feel like you’ll die if you don’t convey everything to him right now, in this moment.

Jungkook remains stoic, somewhat resembling the statue of a Greek god: handsome and stagnant, not even flinching at the impact of your squishies hitting his built body or the way you nonsensically scream at him.

“This is all your fucking fault Jungkook. You ruined my life! You ruined love for me! I’ll never get a boyfriend, never get married, never have kids because of you! I’m going to die alone and it’ll be all your fucking fault! How could you do that to me? How could you do that to me?” You erupt into sobs, pushing your face into your hands as you violently cry. Snot, tears, and saliva leak from your face as the chagrin completely consumes you.

“Y/N.” The sound of Jungkook’s deep, baritone voice is barely audible over the sounds of your heaving.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He does sound sorry, but you can’t help but question the authenticity of his words because he didn’t do anything wrong in the first place. It’s like he’s merely uttering an apology to appease you.

But for Jungkook, he’ll apologize a million times if it helps dry your tears. He never let his pride get in the way when it comes to you.

He sits at the edge of your bed, using his finger to tilt your chin up, revealing your disheveled, snotty, and glossy face. You whimper when your vision clears and focuses on him.

He wipes your face with your own shirt, tugging up the hem to absorb your tears, still gentle and attentive. You swat his hand away. “You need to stop doing that,” you mewl, blinking more tears from your eyes.

“You need to stop crying. It makes me sad,” he retorts, passing you the same Snorlax plushie you violently launched at him. You cushion the plushie on top of your thighs and bring your knees to your chest. You inhale and exhale deeply, trying to settle from your emotional high.

“You don’t even take me seriously,” you mumble, peeking up at him.

“I always take you seriously,” Jungkook responds, “but I want you to stop crying first-

“Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe out, “If you don’t hate me, then kiss me,” you say, your eyes fluttering shut, delusionally- as if he was about to kiss you. Instead, you feel his large palm on your head, softly caressing your hair.

“I’m not gonna kiss you. You should get some rest.” His voice is deep, calm, and composed. How can he be so normal when you’re on the brink of losing your mind?

Your face scrunches up in indignation before you erupt in tears once again, practically screaming. “Fuck you! I hate you! I hate you!”

“Y/N.” He calls your name repeatedly.

“Y/N-”

“Shut the fuck up you asshole!”

“Y/N,” his voice becomes more stern with everytime he calls your name, but you don’t let him get a word in. You keep screaming at him, calling him every name in the book of insults, shaking him off every time he goes near you.

When he attempts to sit by you, you violently push him away. “Go away! I’m not a little kid anymore! I don’t fucking need you anymore! I’m gonna be single forever because of you! If you don’t want me to be single forever then just fucking leave and never come back!”

You’re aware that your words are horrible, but the overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame erupting in your system prevents any rational train of thoughts from developing in your mind. You’re embarrassed and devastated that Jungkook doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and it sends you spiraling.

He attempts to calm you once more by sitting on your bed, but you push him even more violently. “Don’t fucking touch me! I’m never gonna find love because of you! Just fucking die, just leave forever if-”

He staggers on his feet, caught off balance from the force of your push, and for the first time in his life Jungkook yells at you.

“Y/N!”

Giving you no time to say or think anything, he seats himself on your makeup chair, tattooed hand gripping onto its top rail. “Y/N,” he scowls deeply at you, features blanketed in exasperation, “We’ll talk about this later, but you need to calm the fuck down. You’re hurting me when you talk like that.”

Your eyebrows furrow deeply in horror, your cheeks tear-stained and your eyes filled with sorrow. The haunting realization of what you just said settles into your system. Your quivering lips barely enunciate your words. “Kook, I’m so sorry,” you blubber out. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t mean it!” You shoot up, stumbling over your own feet and collapsing onto the floor. You’re a mess. Your face glistens with a layer of your own snot, and your hair is matted and tangled, the result of the countless times you tugged at it during this interaction.

Unbeknownst to you, there's a red blotch near the lower hem of your T-shirt, and droplets of blood escape you and drip onto the floor as you stumble out of bed. Jungkook notices though, eyebrows pinching in concern as a very disturbed expression morphs on his face when you collapse to your knees, your trembling hands holding onto him for support. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it! It’s all my fucking fault!”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything.

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you sniffle. “I’m so sorry I said that. That was so horrible of me. Please don’t die. I’m so sorry.”

A sigh of vexation leaves his lips, but nonetheless he remains patient, compassionate towards the devastation that consumes your face. “I’m not gonna die.” He cups your face with his tattooed hand, and uses his thumb to wipe the idle tears on your face. “I forgive you. It’s okay.”

“Promise? Promise it’s okay? I’m so sorry,” you cry even more, desperately latching onto his hands, using the side of his fingers to wipe your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he confirms, tilting your head upwards before wiping your face with a makeup wipe from your vanity. “‘M really tired. I’m gonna go get your pads then I’ll be back.

You sniffle. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The smile he gives you is forced, and it makes you feel horrible.

He motions his head towards your bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when I come back.”

You tiredly listen to his words, getting under your covers and holding onto your Snorlax plush. “Good night Kook.”

“Night,” he says, somewhat emotionlessly, flickering the lights off and vacating your room.

Horrible. You wake up with puffy eyes, infinite eye boogers, and an awful pit in your stomach. The memories of last night come flooding in and you immediately check your phone to see if Jungkook texted you. There’s nothing there.

Why would he want to talk to you after what you did?

You decide to send him a text message to further emphasize how sorry you are.

You throw your phone on the bed and scream into the stomach of Snorlax.

Dry. He’s being so fucking dry and it’s all your fault.

The next few weeks are spent with you attempting to redeem yourself.

You have no idea why you’re in front of Jungkook’s work, let alone with a lunchbox cake in hand. Begrudgingly, you stumble inside the tall building, awkwardly smiling when you come face to face with the sweet old security man. Jungkook’s work place is fancy as hell. Every floor of the tower hosts the office of an aristocratic company. There are even enormous, airport-esque x-ray machines stationed towards the entrance. You have to walk through a metal detector to be granted access into the building.

“Why hello, young lady! What business do you have here today?”

“Um, I have a cake for someone. H-he works at HYBE Tech Solutions.”

“Alright, go ahead and put your bag and belongings here,” he says, motioning towards the tray on the X-ray machine conveyor belt. You watch as your belongings pass through the machine and come out on the other end. Then, you step through the metal detector, holding your arms up to be properly inspected. You bid the security man goodbye and walk towards the elevator.

An ominous feeling of stupidity washes over you as you press your fingers onto the elevator buttonsYou feel stupid. You feel dumb. You feel silly. You would never do this for a man, but here you are.

You take a deep breath before you stumble in, coming face to face with the lady that works at the front desk. Your eyes settle on the badge on her blouse. Dorothy. You vaguely remember Jungkook ranting about this woman, venting about how she crossed professional and ethical boundaries- often sneakily creeping her fingers up his chest while they spoke and even going as far as to dig into the company’s database for his personal information.

You clear your throat. “Hi, how’s your day been?”

“I’m great! Thanks for asking, hun. How can I help you today?” She asks, voice bubbly and uplifting, perfect for customer service.

“Oh! Um- I have something for Jungkook. He works in the tech department.”

Her bubbly and friendly atmosphere immediately diminishes, and she raises her eyebrows at you before eyeing you conspicuously. With a vacuous expression, she picks up the landline, pressing her thin fingers into the numbers. “Hey, can you let Jungkook know that there’s a child here for him?”

You purse your lips at that, rocking back and forth on your heels. You try to avoid eye contact with this woman by looking elsewhere- pupils frantically darting to the daisies on the front desk or the grandfather clock that sits idly against the beige walls- but she’s persistently staring you down.

Thank God Jungkook appears from the end of the hallway.

He sports a light blue button up and brown slacks, a stack of papers in his tattooed hand while the other rakes through his short hair. He looks delicious as ever and clearly Dorothy agrees because she practically moans as he walks down the hallway.

“Y/N?” He narrows his eyes in your direction, confirming that it’s really you.

“Um hi Kook. I brought you something.” You use two hands to present the styrofoam box to him.

Jungkook’s eyes scan from the lunchbox to you. He places the stack of papers on the front desk before accepting the box and popping open its lid. “A cake?” he questions, and you nod shyly, fidgeting in place.

“Thanks,” he plainly says, giving you an awkward smile before his eyes dart towards Dorothy, who is intensely scrutinizing the interaction. There is tension in the atmosphere, and Dorothy’s presence isn’t helping.

He clears his throat. “You didn’t have to, you should be studying,” he says, his words a little more light-hearted this time.

You shake your head. “I wanted to do this for you. I’m sorry for last night, Koo.”

He stares at you before letting a sigh escape his lips. “t’s okay Y/N. Told you I‘m not mad. We’ll talk about this later.”

You twiddle with your fingers, your puppy eyes flickering towards him.

“Hug?” he asks, cutting the tension, tilting his head while he holds his arms open. You pout, nodding before running into his arms. He holds you tight, and whispers into the top of your head so Dorothy wouldn’t catch heed of the conversation. “You made me sad last night, you know.”

“‘I’m sorry.”

“‘It's okay. I can never be mad at you for too long,” He subtly releases you from his embrace and pinches your cheek. “Now go home, okay?”

You take a step back and offer a nod. And for some reason, Jungkook feels that you’re looking at him as if you’ll never see him again. “Enjoy your cake.”

Jungkook smiles back, waving you goodbye. You turn to the office lady, who quickly averts her eyes once you notice her blatant eavesdropping. “Thank you auntie. Have a nice day!”

Jungkook has to physically restrain himself from laughing.

A heart emoji. Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his most insignificant actions. You hold your phone to your chest and bite back a smile.

Loud music booms and vibrates through the walls of this massive mansion. There’s a huge pool, complete with a waterslide and waterfalls spilling into the pool. You’re surrounded by tons of other like-minded college kids, clad in nothing but a white lace bikini. You’re able to acknowledge that it isn’t the most tasteful outfit, but you feel good and you look good.

After jumping in the pool and violently pelting water balloons at each other (effectively scaring away all the hoes), you and Yunjin lie under a cabana mindlessly scrolling through your phones. You only look up from your phone when you sense Yunjin holding up her phone for a selfie. Jungkook would have rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Can I show you something?” you abruptly blurt out, eliciting a cynical look from your friend. “Is it bad?”

You immediately shake your head, composing your posture so you can properly show Yunjin your texts with Jungkook. Her eyes rapidly scan over the phone in moments and she shoots you a sly glance.

“So do you think?-”

“I don’t know… but I really, really, really hope that it means something. I don’t want him to see me as a little kid anymore, you know?” Bashfully, you smile at her, your demure expression a complete juxtaposition to your practically naked figure.

Yunjin cups your cheeks making your glossy lips pouty. “Y/N! You’re about to pull Jungkook!”

“I am?”

“Yes you are-”

Yunjin flinches dramatically when a harsh stream of water unexpectedly drenches you. You both whip your head to the culprit in question: Beomgyu standing directly in front of you with a massive water gun.

“You bitch!” Yunjin shoots up and runs after him with you rapidly following your partner in crime’s lead. But as you’re running towards Beomgyu (who maniacally screams and dashes), another stream hits you from the back.

The second culprit. Soobin. You sprint towards, latching your claws onto his white T-shirt him while you tug him towards the pool. “Wait Y/N! I just dried off. I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

No mercy for this bitch.

You position yourself behind him, using your whole body to push him into the pool. Splash! You jump and squeal in excitement when he emerges from the water wiping his face with his hands. You laugh hysterically in his face, childishly pointing your finger at him, finding it even more hilarious when he gives you the stink eye. “That’s what you get, asshole!-“

You pause and shriek in horror.

Somebody just pulled on the strings of your bikini top, exposing your boobs to the entire party.

You instinctively crouch, shoving your chest into your knees.The gasp of horror that leaves Soobin’s lips mirrors yours, and he immediately springs into action, rapidly lifting himself from the pool and sprinting after whatever asshole just violated you.

“Y/N!” Your savior, Yeonjun appears in front of you, crouching to your level. He rapidly rids himself of his shirt and pulls it over your entire figure. “You’re good, you’re good,” he whispers calmly to you, trying to prevent you from having a full blown panic attack. You stand up reticently, folding your arms over your chest, eyes trained on the ground and only looking at Yeonjun’s feet to gauge which direction you’re heading in.

“You okay?” Yeonjun settles under the cabana. “That guy is such a dick,” he mutters to himself.

You nod and sink into the cushion of the outdoor-couch. “I’m so fucking embarassed.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, Yeonjun immediately shakes his head. “No, no. Nobody saw anything.” You shoot him a skeptical look, knowing damn well everybody in the party saw your bare boobs.

“Is that Jungkook?”

You immediately whip your head towards the left, and indeed Jungkook is walking your way. You can’t believe he’s real. All heads whip in his direction as he makes his way towards you. He flicks his head back to prevent hair from falling in front of his eyes, barefoot, black T-shirt, and gray shorts. He looks so handsome you can’t even comprehend it.

“Y/N!” He shouts, quicklyducking under the roof of the cabana before he positions himself in front of you. He inhales and exhales deeply, the blistering sun forming particles of sweat on his forehead.

You look up at him and your heart melts. The sheen of sweat on his face, the way his eyes fixate on you. Your heart skips a beat. You want to cry. Again. Out of embarrassment, and how emotional you become at Jungkook’s mere presence.

You bury your head into your knees, making Jungkook's eyebrows pinch. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Yeonjun opens his mouth, hesitatingly glancing at you to confirm if telling Jungkook is okay.

You shoot up and practically catapult yourself onto Jungkook, latching onto him like a Koala. “Nothing happened,” you say, nuzzling your face into his shirt. “Come swim with me. Please.”

Jungkook sighs, using his large palm to tame your frizzy stray hairs. “Y/N. We need to go home.”

You cock your head in confusion.“Wait why?”

His voice becomes oddly stern. “Y/N. It’s important and we have to go home.”

“To your place or mine?”

“My place. Just follow me.”

You haven’t a clue as to why Jungkook is behaving so urgently, but you follow him nonetheless. You pick up your purse and give Yeonjun a quick hug, running after Jungkook who cooly breezes past everyone, not a single person missing the hot guy who suddenly showed to the party.

Jungkook opens his car door for you and allows you to step in.

“Jungkook… is something going on?”

“Yes, there is,” he says grimacing slightly, shutting the door for you before he climbs into the driver’s seat.

This nauseating anxiety bubbles inside you and sends chills up your spine, making you flinch when Jungkook closes the car door on his side. Jungkook doesn’t say anything, just looks behind his shoulder to reverse from his parking spot before zooming out of there.

“Is this because of what happened the other night?” you ask, and he glances at you quickly.

“No, it isn’t.”

“Well.. are we going to talk about it?” you push, twiddling with your fingers.

Jungkook shakes his head, noticing your trembling fingers in his peripheral view. He reaches over and puts his hand on top of yours. “Not now.”

You don’t respond, shifting in confusion.

“Here,” Jungkook starts, throwing his phone in your lap, “You can play whatever song you want.”

You purse your lips and silently nod.

Sooner or later, you arrive at Jungkook’s apartments, and he leads you up the stairs and sits you on his black leather couch.

He cups your face with both hands, caressing the apples of your cheek with his thumbs. With your eyebrows pinched, you peer into Jungkook’s eyes, conveying your confusion through your scrunched facial features.

“Y/N, before I tell you what I want to tell you, I want you to take a few breaths. Just know that I’m always here for you.”

You nod steadily, pretty facial features still crinkled in confusion.

“Y/N, your parents were in a car accident, and they didn’t make it.”

“What?”

And as the haunting realization settles into your system, all you can remember are your shrieks of terror echoing throughout his apartment and the way Jungkook holds you against his body while he wipes your tears and assuages your loud cries.

The few days that proceed are a blur, but Jungkook takes care of you and is far more attentive than he ever has been. You cling onto him like fragile glass ornament hanging from a delicate thread- like he was all you had left because he was all you had left. He was your spring solace after a harsh winter, and the way he treated you indicated as much.

Jungkook works from home so you aren’t alone. For the entire day, you sit on his bed and watch him work. You eavesdrop on his meetings, falling asleep to the sound of his voice and whenever you wake up Jungkook ensures that he feeds you, constantly worried about your inability to eat.

You’re queasy just thinking about going back to your house, so your daily and nightly attire consist of pieces from Jungkook’s wardrobe. You haven’t verbally acknowledged what has happened- not ready to talk about the death of your parents. You’re just trying to survive, and you feel like you’re barely making it.

Thankfully, all your friends and family have been extremely helpful trying to get you through your grief. Jungkook’s mother stays with you for a few days, and after that Yunjin sleeps over with you for a few days- but you know that a piece of your heart has been ruthlessly ripped form you.

“Y/N, you need to take a shower,” Jungkook expresses, obstructing your view of the TV. His toothbrush hangs from his mouth, toothpaste residue bubbling around the perimeter of his lips. You owlishly blink at him, observing how his expression hardens at your look of indifference.

You scoot towards the left end of the couch, hoping to get a clear view of Ever After High projected on his flat screen TV.

“Y/N you haven’t showered in three days,” Jungkook interjects, “Please take a shower.”

“I will. Later.”

He pushes up his glasses, staring at you with intense disapproval. “Y/N,” he says sternly, trying to be gentle despite his qualms.

You acquiesce, pouting at him. “Okay, fine. Later.”

His frown deepens. “Y/N.”

You chew on your bottom lip, deeply contemplating what Jungkook has asked of you. His large frame remains frozen in front of you. No matter how you position yourself on the couch, he renders you unable to watch the princesses prance around on the TV.

“Okay… but will you at least come with me? I don’t want to be without you.”

Jungkook pauses.

“I don’t mean like getting in with me, but will you just sit on the toilet and talk to me?” You ask, sinking into the leather of his sofa and using your sweater paws to sweep your hair back.

“Yea, I’ll do that.”

Once you step in the shower, you close the curtains, and strip yourself from your clothes, handing the pile of clothes to Jungkook. You turn on the water, yelping at the sensation on your body. Jungkook was right. You needed this and you kind of do smell like butthole.

“Wait Y/N, do you want me to go to your house and get you underwear?”

After folding up your (his) T-shirt and boxers, he notices that you haven’t been wearing any undergarments.

“No!” you call back, “I don’t want you to go there! Not yet,” you call back.

“Then do you want me to buy you some?” he responds, placing the folded clothes on the bathroom counter.

“Um, maybe we can order some on Amazon.”

“Just send me the link and I’ll place the order.”

“Okay.”

A wave of silence washes over the bathroom, and you peek your head from the shower curtain to see what Jungkook’s up to: scrolling on Instagram. On his screen is some instagram model’s bikini pic, his fingers pausing on the screen so he can look at the photo.

“Who is that?” you ask, making Jungkook jump in his seat.

“What the- Y/N, just take your shower!” Jungkook feigns annoyance but can’t help himself but scoff in amusement at how petty you can be.

“Is she prettier than me?” you ask, glaring at Jungkook with disapproval.

Jungkook purses his lips and tugs the shower curtain past your face and holds it against the wall, preventing you from peeking your pretty head past the curtain. He holds it there for a good minute, unfazed by the thrashing against the shower curtain.

Swish.

You swipe open the shower curtain from the other side. Your eyes bore into Jungkook’s and Jungkook thinks you’re foolish not to realize how alluring and sultry you are. Your bare body is akin to a sculpture of the goddess Aphrodite. Water drips from the crevices of your body and you gaze at him with anticipation etched onto your face. You’re just standing there, but your posture is so seductive- or maybe it’s just the natural curvature of your body.

“Why don’t you join me?” your sweet voice makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat.

When he doesn’t respond, your features morph into humiliation, regret consuming you. You nod your head. “Sorry Kook, I’ll just-”

“Y/N, you’re gorgeous. Any man can see how lovely you are. Honestly, you take my breath away every time I see you,” Sensing the trepidation on your face, he solidifies his claim, “I mean it Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I want to join you but I’m not going to. You’re hurting right now and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you.”

And he isn’t lying, he yearns for every kind of contact with you, but he’s not going to go through with this. Not when you’re traumatized from the death of your parents. Not when you’ve been so unhinged for the past week, refusing to even shower.

You stare at him for a second, dazy eyed and your eyes darting around the room. “Okay Jungkook. I’m sorry.”

He smiles sweetly at you and gently closes the shower curtain. “It’s okay Y/N. I’m gonna head to my room. You’re welcome to come visit me anytime.”

Boys’ night. Jungkook being the handsome stud he is, happens to have friends that are also handsome studs. Jungkook offered to postpone boys’ night but you declined his attempts to make you more comfortable. Jungkook has exerted so much effort to take care of you. There’s no reason for him to forgo time with his best friends. Besides, you can always hide in your room.

You crack your door open slightly ajar, peeking through the crack to spy on Jungkook and his friends. Antisocial is the perfect word to describe you.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was your cue to lock yourself in your room. Jungkook knocked a few times, but you were too scared of other people that you didn’t even grace him with a response.

Clearly Jungkook got the message because he opted to leave a greasy piece of pizza outside your door, sending you a quick text message about it.

You just wanted to scout the scene, see who was there. Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Namjoon. Soju bottles are scattered around the table, and there’s some music blaring from the TV. You’ve met everyone here a few times- they all know you, but you aren’t close with Jungkook’s friends like he is with your friends.

“Oh Y/N! Come join us!” You freeze at Mingyu’s words, and all eyes in the room whip towards your direction.

“Umm..” you close the door gently and leap into the safety of your bed.

You overhear their banter through the wooden door. “Hey! Why are you making little kids uncomfortable!” Jimin yells, slapping Mingyu on the neck.

Your lip quivers, and you inhale deeply, gathering the courage to step outside of the room. You quickly put on deodorant, and step out stealthily, taking a seat next to Namjoon on the couch. No one seems to notice you, and you tap on his shoulder. Namjoon whips his head towards you, the confusion on his face melting into fondness.

“Hi,” you squeak out, fiddling with your fingers.

“Hi Y/N,” Namjoon greets, the kindness laced in his voice assuaging the trepidation bubbling on your inside. Jungkook’s red lava lamp illuminates the room with shades of crimson, and your eyes flutter shut when a ray of light shines on your face.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon inquires, holding his hand up to shield you from the light.

“Yea, I’m fine,” you blink a few times. You don’t say anything, just awkwardly take a bite of your pizza while your eyes dart around the room.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to know what to say to you either, so the two of you just sit and eat pizza in silence. For a moment, your eyes lock. You owlishly blink at him and he blinks at you for a good minute.

But then, to your surprise, Namjoon sets his pizza down, opening his arms. Your features scrunch up, and you let yourself melt into his warm embrace, glossy tears rolling down your face.

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” he expresses, gently caressing the back of your head with his palm. You sniffle. “t’s okay,” you sob, “but I’m so sad. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You’ll get through this. We’re always here for you.”

His words invoke a tornado of intense feelings in your system, and your strong facade crumbles as you become vulnerable in Jungkook’s friend’s embrace. By this point, everyone has noticed your presence, and suddenly the night becomes about you.

After wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you find yourself sitting in between Jungkook and Namjoon in a “friendship circle”. It’s quite cute that these grown men still sit criss-cross applesauce in a circle, but you’re overjoyed that you’re welcome to the group.

“I brought you a cake Y/N,” Taehyung announces, handing you a lunchbox cake. With your doe eye, you look towards him before opening the lid of the cake. A lunchbox cake with Snorlax’s face iced on the top. “Jungkook mentioned that you really liked Pokemon, so I thought you’d find this cute,” he continues, slightly trailing off. You’re Strong! Is what it reads, and you fall into pieces, your features crumpling up before you burst into tears.

Jungkook laughs in fondness at the vulnerability of your reaction, wrapping a single arm around your frame.

“Th-thank you,” you sniffle, offering Taehyung a crooked smile. “Can we eat it together? I don’t want to get f-fat.”

At that, a chorus of no’s echo through the room, and you giggle a bit.

Your heart is incredibly full. Family. Friends. People who care about you. This is something your soul desires, something your soul needs.

The night meets its unfortunate end, and you stand in front of Jungkook as you bid his friends goodbye. Before the boys walk away, you find your fingers clinging onto the hem of Jimin’s oversized shirt. Before he ventures off, he turns around and graces you with an endearing look of confusion. “What’s up?”

“Can I come with you?” you spout.

“You want to sleep over at our place?” Jimin questions, gingerly scratching the back of his head.

You shake your head steadily, “I just want to talk to you,” you clarify, gazing up at him shyly. Jimin’s eyes dart towards Jungkook’s for approval and Jungkook nods his head. “Go ahead. I’ll give you guys privacy,” he pinches your cheek affectionately before closing the door. You stand on your tiptoes, peeking through the window of the apartment to ensure that Jungkook isn’t eavesdropping.

Jimin leans against the railings, observing you carefully.

You tug on the hem of Jimin’s tee, urging him to follow you to the lobby of Jungkook’s apartment. He follows in your stead, not questioning you until your actions pause. You shift around uncomfortably for a bit, and you look up at him. Taking a deep breath, you find the courage to ask him the question that’s been lingering in the back of your mind.

“Do you think Jungkook and I could ever.. be a thing?” you finally question, shifting your weight between your feet, a crimson sheen sweeping over your cheeks.

Jimin’s eyebrows pinch, and he repeatedly opens and closes his mouth, looking for the right words to say. “Like romantically?”

Your eyes cumbersomely drift towards the painting behind Jimin. “Y-yea. I really like him, and I want him to be my boyfriend- and I know he’s attracted to me but won’t act on his feelings because of his ethical qualms,” you stutter out, pursing your lips after seeing how Jimin’s face morphs into astonishment.

“Well, I don’t think Jungkook is seeing anyone right now- but Y/N, if I’m going to be totally honest, I don’t think you and Jungkook being a romantic pair would be appropriate. I mean, he’s known you since you were a kid. Even if he does like you, I don’t think he would cross those boundaries.” he very gently explains, meticulously finding the correct wording to not hurt your feelings.

You bite your lip bitterly, sinking into the realization of his assertion. “Yea, you’re right. I don’t know. I guess it’s just a stupid crush,” you dismiss your confession with a wave and offer Jimin a shy smile.

Jimin pouts at your invalidation of your own feelings. “Don’t say that. I know you’ll find someone who cherishes and loves you. Someone you deserve,” he asserts. You smile at him, nodding before he ruffles your hair and leads you back up the stairs.

Someone you love.

Would you ever find it in yourself to love anybody that wasn’t him? Jungkook has successfully monopolized your heart, your soul, your very being.

Ping!

Tonguing his cheek, Jungkook impatiently and abruptly brakes at a red light, accelerating rapidly when the light turns green. He changes from his casual clothes to a black sleeveless shirt, loose leather pants, and a beanie. Mingyu sits on the passenger seat, frantically typing on his laptop as Jungkook zooms down the highway at record pace.

Breaking into a frat house to terrorize some dumb college kids definitely wasn’t a part of the plan tonight, but Jungkook was down for some last minute terrorism.

“So what are you gonna do? Threaten the kid? Call the cops?”Taehyung questions from the backseat, both hands gripping on the headrest of Mingyu and Jungkook’s seats.

“Look, I’m really trying to not sound corny, but I’m going to torture him,” Jungkook enunciates, which evokes a few seconds of silence.

“This bitch-”

“He’s lost his fucking mind,” Mingyu mumbles.

Jungkook laughs to himself, amused by the comments of his friends. Jungkook is an intelligent, rational person. Normally, he wouldn’t take it this far but he deems it extremely necessary for this particular situation.

“What the- now he’s creepily laughing to himself-”

“If we tell Y/N about this she’s going to be scared of you,” Mingyu abruptly comments, shooting Jungkook a pointed look.

Jungkook pauses, seemingly deeply considering the utterance of his friend, toying with his lip ring for a while he finally makes a comment. “I won’t do anything bad. I’ll just intimidate him a little.”

His friends sigh, not pressing further on the matter because Mingyu and Taehyung were pissed off too. Instead, Mingyu rolls down the windows of the car, allowing the breeze of the cool night to consume the interior of the car.

Jungkook considers this very night a milestone in your healing process. You isolated yourself in his apartment for two consecutive weeks, your grief severely limiting your social capacity and ability to normally interact with people. His friends were privy to your situation, purposely not coming to Jungkook’s home out of respect for you. But tonight, the color that reappeared in your aura overwhelmed his heart with joy.

While you were on the couch, talking to Namjoon about something, Jungkook got an alarming text from one of your friends- Yeonjun. Jungkook is cool with your friends, but not close enough to be sending private text messages, so his eyes brows pinch in concern when he sees the notification pop up from his phone.

Mingyu’s eyes drifted towards Jungkook, who was noticeably brimming with indignation. Jungkook scoffed to himself, a macabre smirk on his lips before he laughed erratically at the message. He repeatedly wiped his face with his hand, chuckling in amusement. Jungkook discreetly passed his phone to Mingyu without a word, with Taehyung looking over his shoulder, both of them gasping at the message.

This whole time, you were oblivious to the scheme Jungkook was contriving and Jungkook intended to keep it that way. You were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and Jungkook would cut his limbs off to lessen that burden. The indignation and resentment bubbling within him threatens to erupt because he’s so fucking pissed off.

You’re everything to him, and the thought of you being violated makes him want to indulge in his violent impulses. He can’t imagine how you would feel knowing that video spread around, and usually he would confide with you about these things but right now he needs to sweep this under the rug and make sure it never comes back up.

Luckily, he and Mingyu both have degrees in computer engineering and know how to hack into technical infrastructures.

Jungkook pulls up to the frat house, rolling the window down steadily before he rests his elbow on the ledge of the window. He sits there for a second, toying with his lip ring while his eyes bore into the interior of the house. He’s sure he looks creepy as hell- just staring into the house.

After a few minutes of waiting in silence, some guy arises from the house and approaches the car.

Jungkook keeps his lips sealed until he’s close enough to perceive his features.

“Uh is there something yall need?” the guy asks, innocently scratching the back of his head.

“Yea,” Jungkook responds, voice firm and somewhat chilling, “Your name Josh?”

“Yea? What’s up-”

Jungkook kicks the door open, knocking Josh over until he’s rolled on the floor, clutching his leg as he shrieks in pain.

“Oh shit, are we really doing this?” Taehyung mutters before joining Jungkook outside the car.

Jungkook sits on top of Josh, continuously punching the shit out of him before he spits on the kid’s face. He uses a single hand to lift him by the collar, and violently pushes him against the car. “You mad Y/N rejected you? So you pulled that shit?” Jungkook menaces, his face centimeters away from Josh’s.

Josh whimpers, crying- too horrified to coherently respond. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he pleads, tears and snot streaming down his ugly face.

“Shut the fuck up!” Jungkook repeatedly bangs Josh against the car. “I’m gonna say this shit once and I’m not going to repeat myself,” he seethes, satisfied by the way Josh whimpers and nods his head pathetically.

“You’re not shit. You’ll never ever be good enough for Y/N. You’re the same as the shit on the bottom of my shoe,” he breathes against Josh’s face, who whimpers and cries, “If I ever see you messing with Y/N ever again- I will ruin your whole life.”

Josh nods, unable to do anything else.

“Got it?” Jungkook seethes, pushing Josh’s head against the car door.

“Got it!”

“Good. We’re going inside, and you guys are going to watch us go through all of your iClouds, and we’re going to delete every single copy of the video there is, alright?”

“Yes! Yes! That’s fine! I’m sorry!”

Jungkook scoffs in amusement at his despicable demeanor, before he throws Josh on the ground and enters the house.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Mingyu mumbles, following Jungkook’s lead into the house.

You anxiously wait for Jungkook to return home, absentmindedly toying with the Switch to distract from the hysterical thoughts frantically racing through your mind. You’ve done everything you could to distract yourself, your restless heart aching to do something of substance.

You’ve been isolating yourself from society for the past month simply because you can’t bring yourself to leave Jungkook’s home, as if it was your safe haven.

You dread the moment you have to return to your home, memories of your family coming to mind. You’ve been trying to avoid thinking about everything, and you reckon that it’s time to process everything. There are aspects of grief that you find unfathomable- questions you have that make you want to throw up.

What will happen to the home that holds the memories of your family within its walls? How will you assimilate back into society without your father, without your mother? You’re not confident that it will ever be the same, and your heart sinks into your stomach at the notion- but you have to be resilient; you have to face it.

It feels worse to avoid the reality of your life than to face it head on.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorknob turning.

“Jungkook!” The way you call his name is breathless, and his eyebrows pinch in concern when you pounce on him. Nonetheless, he allows you to nuzzle into his embrace and he soothingly rubs your back- like he always does.

“Wasn’t gone that long,” Jungkook absentmindedly comments.

“I know- just missed you. I’m sorry for being clingy,” you murmur, to which Jungkook shakes his head at the absurdity of your words.

“Not at all. Stay here for as long as you want. I’ll take you with me wherever I go,” he adds, settling into the leather of his sofa. You shuffle after him like a cute little penguin, sitting your ass directly next to Jungkook despite the vacant empty space on your right side.

“Then am I allowed to sit next to you?”

Jungkook’s features crinkle up in amusement, nose scrunching as he laughs lightly at how cute you are. He pinches your cheek, “It’s one thousand dollars for every minute you’re within a five foot radius of me,” he comments, tone stoic and firm.

He doesn’t have to look in your direction to visualize the way your pretty lips fall open, swatting at his bicep for his cruel words. “Jungkook, I don’t have that money! You know I only have 35 cents in my bank account!”

“Okay, then go sit over there,” Your eyes follow the trail of his pointed finger, the corner of the room.

“Fine! You fucking asshole,” you mutter bitterly, jumping up from the couch and stomping away with a hmph, until Jungkook slyly wraps his hand around the circumference of your wrist and pulls you to him. You collapse onto the couch, your back against his chest, and your butt between his legs.

He clings onto you, almost suffocating you with the way he wraps his arms around you, grabbing his elbows as he locks his arms over your head. “‘M just kidding- you know that. I can’t survive without my baby either, y’know?”

Your chest erupts with butterflies, and you hold onto his forearm with both of your hands. “I know.”

The next day, you return to school. Your professors were so empathetic and understanding to the nuance and confusion of your situation, allowing you to complete your coursework from the comfort of Jungkook’s home.

Grief isn’t a linear process. Though you’ve found it in you to return to school, it’s the mundane and the typical that you’re becoming increasingly bothered by.

No one in your Philosophy class is paying attention to this movie, clearly. You can tell by the lit up screens scattered within the clusters of students, and you aren’t diligent enough to not be one of those students, doodling flowers and Snorlax’s on your paper.

For the second you do look up at the movie, your heart stops. It’s always the most mundane, irrelevant details that get to you. The scene barely occupies a minute and it makes your chest tighten in the worst way possible.

The main character walks down the wedding aisle, her arm linked with her father’s. The haunting realization settles in your system- you will never ever experience that. You begin hyperventilating, your hand crumpling the paper, and you quickly rest your forearms on the table before shoving your face into your forearms. People are already looking at you and you can’t fathom the humiliation so you stay like that until class is dismissed.

You finally lift your head, rubbing your eyes to adjust the blinding ceiling lights.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You shriek at the unexpected voice and whip your head to the left.

“Hey hey hey- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he breathes out, rolling his chair towards you before rolling back so as to not scare you further.

“No no, you’re good,” you breathe out, inhaling and exhaling to bring you down from your petrified high. “Just having a shitty day,” you explain, sweeping away the hair dried to your face by your tears.

He seems to be unable to conjure a proper response, peering at you with an empty gaze and you sink in your seat, feeling the need to further explain yourself. “Well there was that part in the movie where Emma got married, and that made me feel horrible because I recently lost my dad.. And my mom.”

“Wait, I’m sorry. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he articulates, “I just noticed you haven’t been in class for a while and was kinda worried when I saw you crying. I’m sorry if I pushed your boundaries.”

“You know me?”

His lips tug up in embarrassment as he gingerly scratches the back of his neck. “Well we usually sit next to each other so I thought we formed an acquaintanceship or something,” he mumbles.

“Oh I’m sorry,” you pout at him, “I usually tap out during class so I never noticed you. What’s your name by the way?” You shyly stick out your hand, and he gives you a straight lined smile before shaking your hand gently.

“Sunghoon. I-I’m really sorry for your loss by the way,” he adds, and you find his nervousness quite endearing. You shyly smile at him, and he gazes back at you with similar amity. He ever so softly pulls your wrist towards his and scribbles his number onto your forearm. “Feel free to text me if you ever need help with homework. You missed a lot of school,” he offers, and you find yourself giggling at his forth forwardness.

“Thanks Sunghoon."

When Jungkook returns from work that night, the first thing he’s met with is you shoving your boots on, seemingly ready for a vivacious night out. Your figure is adorned with a white satin slip on dress, and your hair is put up in an elegant updo. Jungkook pauses, eyes settling on your figure before scanning up to your face; he thinks this is the first time he’s seen you with makeup on since he wiped away the mascara running down your cheeks the day he broke the news.

“Hey daddy,” you purr, “Where have you been? The kids have been waiting for you,” you giggle, sliding your mini purse down your arm.

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, humorously scoffing at your corny choice of words.

You giggle, skipping towards him before jumping onto him, latching around his neck before you whisper in his ear. “‘m going out with my friends, don’t wait for me to get home because I might stay the night with Yunjin.”

Jungkook stiffens, remaining frozen while you back up from him.

“So, do I look like an angel, or what?”

“Always look cute,” because despite the infesting irritation bubbling in his system, he would never not tell you how it is. You are cute, always cute, always like an angel.

“Thanks,” you giggle, skipping towards the door but before you can skip past him, he latches onto your wrist. “Wait.”

You tilt your head, slightly confused. “I bought something for you.”

He digs in his backpack and pulls it out. Nipple pasties. “You never wear a bra, so I thought you’d be safer if you put these on before you go out.”

“You were the one who said I had small tits!”

“Okay, well you still have nipples- so at least put these on to keep you safe.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but he doesn’t back down. You snatch the pasties from his hand and march into the bathroom. “Fine!”

Jungkook lounges on the couch, eyes trained on you before you bid him goodbye and skip out of his apartment. He inhales deeply to settle the erratic palpitations in his chest. He needs to stop being so protective of you.

Your arms linked with Yunjin, you skip around from one club to the next, dancing and partying your little hearts out. When the night comes to a close you prance to the local ramen shop around your campus. From a distance, you can already make out Jungkook casually speaking with his friends. He’s always so animated when he’s with his friends, dramatically gesturing and hip thrusting in the air while his friends laugh at his immature jokes. He’s got a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger, taking slow puffs, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs before he tilts his head to exhale a long plume of smoke into the atmosphere.

That’s right. Jungkook smokes occasionally but never lets you do it. What a hypocrite.

His eyes drift off for a second until they land on you, and his lips curl up in your presence.

“Well look, if it isn’t my favorite girl,” he teases, letting out low laughter at the way you crimson when all his friends’ heads whip in your direction.

You narrow your eyes at him, giving him a dirty look that Jungkook cooes at. Even when you were trying to intimidate him you akin to a cute Snorlax, so adorable, eyebrows pinched and lips pouted- how could he feel anything but adoration at that?

“Aw angel,” he jests, throwing your words right back at you, “Don’t ignore me, ‘m sorry for teasing you,” he catches you as you walk past him, pulling you towards his chest before resting his chin on top of your head.

He casually smiles at Yunjin. “How’s my angel been doing? Has she been behaving?”

Yunjin’s jaw drops at the bold statement and you attempt to wrestle out of his firm embrace to berate him.

Just kidding. It’s getting late, though. Do you girls need a ride home?” he asks, finally letting you go just for you to stumble out of his grip and almost land on your face, but luckily Jungkook pulls your shoulders back without even looking in your direction.

“Jungkook, it’s literally 10,” you deadpan.

“Oh c’mon, I don’t want you girls to get kidnapped or something,” he snarkily responds.

“How about you give us some money instead?” Yunjin jests, clearly joking, but Jungkook takes it so, so seriously. He raises a brow at both of you. “How much do you need?”

“Wait no- I was kidding,” Yunjin quickly clarifies, her ears becoming slightly red, “you don’t have to..”

Jungkook looks from you to her, then back at you before whipping out his phone, taking another puff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke upwards, careful so you don’t inhale any smoke.

Ping!

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion when you get a notification, and you unzip your mini purse to grab your phone, allowing the screenlight to illuminate your pretty features.

JEON JUNGKOOK HAS TRANSFERRED YOU 500 DOLLARS VIA HYBETRANSFER.

“250 each, alright?” Jungkook laughs, taking another puff of his cigarette before he saunters off, his friends pushing him around and teasing him.

“Ayo, when did Jeon turn into a sugar daddy?”

You and Yunjin are left dumbfounded, even more so when Jungkook turns around and makes kissy lips at you.

You fall to your knees.

The next morning is the weekend.

You absentmindedly chomp on your cereal, eyes still crusty and mind still hazy from the morning daze. Jungkook arises from his bedroom, hair still messy and sticking out in various directions- but he still looks as handsome as ever, the tired and morning glow suiting him wondrously.

“So, I’m planning a trip with my friends at the beach. We’ll stay in an AirBnb. You wanna come with?”

You pause, features crinkling up in confusion. “Which friends? The ones from last night or Mingyu and them?”

“Mingyu, Tae, Jimin, Namjoon,” he counts off, before shrugging, “I already planned to take you with me so it’s not like you have a choice anyways.”

You scoff to yourself in amusement. “Aren’t you being too forceful?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes and graces you with a look of skepticism. “So you don’t want to go? or..”

“No!” you rapidly interject as you shoot up, clearing your throat and regaining your composure at the way Jungkook smirks at you.

You settle back into your seat. “I do want to go,” you exhale, “but do I have to pay for my own room or something? I’m broke.”

“Oh, I was just gonna have you stay in my room,” Jungkook responds, trailing off as he tries to detect any trace of apprehension on your features, “Is that alright with you?”

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until you breathlessly exhale. “That’s perfect.”

So that’s how you found yourself at the beach, in nothing but your black bikini, prancing around the waves with Taehyung.

“Jungkook watch!” you call as you swivel around towards Jungkook, who’s applying sunscreen to his legs, not really paying attention to what you were doing.

You stand in front of the upcoming wave, holding your arms out as if you were going to embrace the wave. “I’m going to stand against the wave!”

At that, Jungkook whips his head upwards, eyebrows pinching in worry as he shoots up. “Tae! Get her! She’s gonna get swept in by-“

And on cue, the wave collapses over you and you tumble into the unwelcoming water. “Motherfuck-“ You thrash and scream, powerless against the unforgiving currents until a pair strong arms pull you from your armpits and drags you to the sand.

“Holy shit Y/N, are you alright?” Taehyung asks, crouching beside you as he pats your back, allowing you to cough the water up.

“Y/N that was so dumb,” you hear Jungkook’s voice as he approaches you, crouching beside you as he hands you his black steel water bottle. “Take a sip,” he urges, and you nod shakily, grasping the bottle with both hands before you take a sip from it.

“I’m okay. Thanks for saving me Taehyung,” you smile at him and he releases a sigh of relief. “You scared the shit out of us!”

You gulp down the water and close the cap, returning his bottle to him. “Sorry, I won’t do that again, but can we get back to playing now?” you smile as you playfully fling a ball of wet sand at Jungkook.

Jungkook closes his eyes on impact, scoffing in amusement before he grabs you by your legs, signalling Taehyung to grab your arms before they both lift you and run into the ocean.

Jungkook waits outside your shared room, knuckles softly knocking on the wooden door. A towel loosely wrapped around his lower waist, water drips from every crevice on his body, but he can’t enter until you’re done changing.

“Oki! I’m done!” you call out, opening the door for him, a towel in your hand as you use it to scrunch up your damp hair.

“Wow. You’re really muscular,” you giggle, fingers hovering over his abs before you look up at him for approval to feel, to which he gently pushes your head aside and waltzes into the room.

When he’s done changing he beckons you back to the room, and you plop in the king sized bed, belly down and legs swinging back and forth in the air.

Jungkook lies down beside you, resting his head on the pillow as he scrolls aimlessly on his phone, only looking over when he hears your ringtone go off.

You answer the call almost immediately.

“Oh hey Sunghoon!” you greet, shooting up from the bed to touch up your appearance in the facetime camera.

Sunghoon. Jungkook knows all your friends and he hasn’t heard that name before.

“Hey Y/N, how’s your vacation going?” Sunghoon asks, and you take a seat at the desk, propping your phone up against the wall. You twirl an idle piece of hair around your fingers. “It’s really fun here, I feel great,” you explain, “so what’s up?”

“You look like you’re having fun- wait, is there someone in the room with you?”

You rapidly turn around and look at Jungkook, then tilt your phone at an angle where he isn’t visible. “Oh, he’s just a family friend, do you want me to go somewhere more private?”

“Oh no that’s cool, I was just wondering but I called to ask you about the homework…”

A family friend? Jungkook scowls at that. Wordlessly, he breezes past you and exits the room, closing the door and sits next to Jimin on the couch.

Jimin takes a few moments to acknowledge Jungkook’s presence. “Hey, is there anything going on between you and Y/N?” Jimin finally asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern when he perceives Jungkook’s sour face.

Jungkook pauses. “Why are you asking?”

Jimin shrugs. “I don’t know. Don’t you know she has a crush on you? Isn’t it inappropriate for you two to be sharing a room?” Jimin continues, nudging Jungkook with his elbow.

At that, Jungkook buries his face into his palms. He’s let this go on for far too long. “I know,” Jungkook murmurs, voice projection muffled by his hands.

“You know? The other day she asked me if it was possible between you two and I straight up told her that you wouldn’t go for it.”

Jungkook remains wordless at that, and he thinks he’s developed an idea of the reality of the situation.

Jungkook was too scared to address the subject with you; he let it linger for far too long. He didn’t want to burden you with anything else besides what you already had on your plate, and you got in your head about it. He never explicitly stated that he more than reciprocates your feelings, leaving you dangling on a string.

He’s going to fix that.

“No Jimin, that’s not it,” Jungkook clarifies, wiping his face with his palms. “I like her too, and I’m going to tell her tonight,” he states firmly, slightly craning his head to gauge Jimin’s reaction. His reaction isn’t what Jungkook expected. Instead of a look of concern, worry, or horror, Jimin looks over the moon.

“Well shit! I wish I knew that before! You guys look perfect together!” he exclaims before eagerly patting Jungkook on the back.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at his friend. “Really? Don't you think I should wait a little longer? Until she's ready?”, to which Jimin simply shakes his head.

“Y/N's an adult. She can handle herself. I thought you wouldn't go for it because of the age gap, though. I guess I shouldn't have told her that," he says gingerly, scratching the back of his head. ”Sorry Kook."

Jungkook doesn't say anything, seemingly in deep contemplation. "It used to bother me,” Jungkook clarifies, "but it doesn't anymore."

“So what’s wrong with it?"

That’s right. There is nothing wrong with it.

A cool night on the beach. You feel the cool breeze through your air, the lunar radiance of the moon illuminating the beach. You’re adorned in a lovely, summer-esque two piece set with floral patterns running along the fabric, The top piece is cropped and strapless, exposing your collar bones and belly button piercing, and the bottom piece is a long, flowy skirt that blows marvelously against the wind.

You gingerly step outside the beach house, enjoying the cool sensation of the night breeze. The guys are all hanging out in the yard, soju bottles and beer cans scattered on the wooden benches positioned on the beach. Namjoon and Jimin are posted up on the benches, chowing down on meat whilst engaging in pretty animated conversation. You spot Mingyu and Taehyung running around the beach, slapping each other and chasing after each other, their dirty heels slipping against the coarse sand.

Jungkook is stationed at the grill, frying meat for his friends. His tall and built figure is concealed by his loose black T-shirt and black sweat shorts that you have worn a few times during your extended stay at his place.

You creep up behind him, swiping away the stray hairs that the wind blew into your face. Tapping him lightly on the back, you coyly skmile at him, a bashful glow illuminating your face.

Jungkook sensed your presence the moment stepped foot from the house, but still acts like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you. He does a double take, eyes scanning up and down your face and body- you look so lovely and elegant in your little two piece set. “Hey,” Jungkook finally returns your greeting, a little breathless.

“Can I have some?” you ask, pointing to the grill.

“Uh yea, I actually made a plate for you a second ago,” Jungkook takes the prepared plate of your favorite meats, but pauses before he hands it to you. He hasn’t a clue if you’re doing this on purpose, but you’re looking at him with the sultriest of eyes, and it drives him crazy. His Adam’s Apple bobs in his throat, and he collects himself before handing you the plate.

You tilt your head, sending him a look of confusion at his hesitance, but Jungkook sees it as a gateway to talk to you. “Y/N, can we talk? Like now?” Jungkook asks, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“Sure, what about?” you solicit, setting the plate on the table.

Jungkook immediately shoves his hands in his pockets, and motions his head towards the beach, obliging you to follow him. “About what you told me at your house..” he trails off, “that one time in the middle of the night,” he adds.

He perceives the way your features morph into embarrassment, so he decides to take the lead on this conversation. He approaches you, standing beside you momentarily before smoothly lacing his fingers through yours. “Let’s go.”

Unable to conjure a proper response, you follow his footsteps in silence until your bodies appear as distant figures by the ocean. With your toes kissing the water washing up on shore, he turns back to look at you, fingers still intertwined. But you stop him before he can open his mouth.

“Wait- Jungkook. Let me explain myself first,” you begin, thankful that the night sky conceals the obvious bashful glow on your cheeks.

Jungkook who is seemingly expressionless nods his head, signaling you to let your words out.

You gently pull your hand from his, twiddling with your fingers before you can speak. “Firstly, I just wanna apologize.. to you,” you begin, ignoring the way his nose scrunches in confusion, “I feel like you’ve been so good to me- you always take care of me. Your family is the only family I have left,” you continue, bashfully tucking an idle strand of hair behind your ear.

“So I’m sorry for forcing myself on you, and I’m sorry for mistaking your care towards me as romantic affection,” you continue, subconsciously gesticulating with your hands. “I know you said you don’t like it when girls are clingy but I’ve been nothing but clingy, and you still take care of me and care about me.” Your words are passionate, and they’re true. “Everyone told me that a relationship with you would be inappropriate.. but I was too persistent and too selfish. I’m so sorry Kook. You must’ve been so shocked when I yelled at you and when I.. opened that shower curtain,” you finish, shaking your head in embarrassment.

When you finally complete the sentiment, you tilt your head upwards to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows pinch in confusion, and his mouth is slightly agape. “What?” he asks breathlessly, eyebrows pinching even further. He runs a tired hand over his face. “Y/N- just- I can’t believe you said that. Y/N, I love you. And I don’t care if you’re clingy, and I don’t care what anybody else thinks of us.”

You gasp at his words, a profound sense of emotion absolutely overwhelming you.

“What I care about is what you think of me, and whether you’re happy,” His fingers find yours, and he holds your hand and looks right into your eyes to properly convey his sincerity. “Y/N, I’m so sorry for not telling you sooner. You were just going through so much shit and I didn’t know if you were in the right headspace or if you were even serious about how you felt for me-”

He stops when you yank your hands away from him, using the back of your hands to wipe the tears streaming down your face. The shapes of his eyes turn into little crescents, petrified at your reactions. He removes your hands from your face, holding your wrists.

“Y/N, don’t cry. Please say something.”

“Jungkook, it’s too late. I-I don’t think I can do this- with you- I mean,” is all you’re able to say and Jungkook’s chest tightens impossibly.

His heart drops to your stomach, a crestfallen expression morphing onto his handsome features. “I-is that how you really feel?”

Another tear streams down your face and Jungkook itches to wipe it but suppresses that urge.

“I love you Jungkook. I do. I really do!” you cry out, “But I can’t date you, ever. I never want to lose you,” you sob between sniffles. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m sure of it!”

The situation is bitterly ironic. Jungkook spent months tiptoeing around his feelings, your feelings, because he wanted to ensure he was what you wanted. Even when you blatantly threw yourself at him, he made the conscious decision to not pursue you. He spent months deciding your feelings for you- and now you’re telling him you don’t want him and he can’t do anything but accept it.

“Y/N, you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be here. Even if you change your mind.. I’ll always be here.”

“Jungkook, I lost my whole family. You’re all I have left,” you explain, trailing off a little bit, “If I lose you then I have nobody.”

“No, I swear- Y/N, you’re it for me, and I mean it.”

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks, eyes, and nose once more. “What- hiccup- does that mean?”

“It means… whatever you want it to mean,” he concludes.

“Jungkook…” you trail off, “Don’t wait for me. If you find a girl you like, then you should go for her. All I want is for you to be happy. It’s what you deserve,” you offer him a soft smile, a direct juxtaposition to your tear stained cheeks.

His chest tightens at that and he shakes his head. “You’ll always be my priority. Me? I’ve dated enough girls, I can be single for the rest of my life.”

You immediately swat his chest at the sentiment. “No, Jungkook. You should be with someone who takes care of you, not someone you have to take care of all the time. I’ll just always be your family friend who had a stupid crush on you in college.” Your attempt to lighten the atmosphere is futile and makes Jungkook’s scowl deepen.

“You’re more than that to me. You’ll always be.” His hand latches onto yours, and you pull yourself from him.

“No Jungkook.. I’ve made up my mind. I really don’t think we could ever…” When your voice breaks and more tears accumulate in your waterline, Jungkook stops you, not wanting to cause you any more pain.

“I got it, Y/N. But just know I’ll always be here… in any way you’ll take me.”

taglist: @babycandy111 @jk97bam @bellagrayson-wayne @honeeybunneey (can't be tagged), @talyaaas-blog , @jjeonjjk7 , @lovingkoalaface , @rvck0lover (can't be tagged), @kissyfacekoo , @dontcribuyabag (can't be tagged), @ash07128 , @cinnamonbambii , @jeon-ruby , @starlight-1010 , @hellbornsworld , @dodoneck, @papiibuprofen , @canyon-lwt , @appleh4ad , @screamertannie , @jeonjenny (can't be tagged), @ahgasegotarmy116 , @badaismygf (can't be tagged), @oopscoop , @gabsrecs , @hiii-priestess , @junniesoleilkth (can't be tagged) , @caro134340lina , @ellesalazar

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts jungkook angst #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabbles #jungkook series #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 1 month

Text

SUMMARY: Life was easy until you meet the eye candy of your life and the adventure with him is a hell of ride, but there is certain someone who seems to get hurt in this.

PAIRINGS: Gynecologist Jungkook X reader ft. bartender yoongi

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

A/N: lol I see no one wants to get tagged in this when I posted the snippet but anyway the tag list is open, and please guys don't let this flop; [ I worked really hard to get motivated enough and write, and this a series and this the first part.✨smut will be there eventually ✨

Note : this is inspired by a web series and I’m GONNA EDIT IT , I’m not gonna make it a whole ass 3 season containing 10-12 episodes per season and I felt like I could do something with this series. Thankyou

Your surroundings suddenly felt hot, the interns did a great job explaining the project to the clients sitting in front of you. The air conditioner did a shit job of keeping the surroundings but it's just you because you see your other intern rubbing her palms under the table.

The meeting was about to end and just when you were about to get up from the chair to leave the hall, the intern called out your name just so you could brief out the entire thing and thank the clients, grabbing on the metal stick you stand in the place where your intern was speaking.

"I hereby extensively elaborate on the profile success of our company, we all can see the numbers of shares growing quickly, see for yourselves" You point to the whiteboard where the graph was made, your company making progress in these past years.

"We can be a great profit for the leading country, sir, I hope you can see the numbers growing live" You then point to the laptop which has a live count of people buying the shares from the company, in the middle while everyone was focused you undo some of the buttons of your red satin shirt and mutter about the poor air conditioner "why am I so damn hot?"

Just when you were about to continue you see Mr. Jeon sitting on one of the chairs that too naked, just in his Calvin Klein boxers, what the fuck? "Yes Ms. Kim, why are you so damn hot?" Jungkook says he rises from his seat climbs over the desk and walks towards you.

you can see the client in shock and eye him, while he climbs down from the table your doctor "Mr. Jeon" is in front of you, his eight packs abs and muscular biceps all out to see, just when you are registering about his details, he picks up the glass of water on the table and drops it all over the neck and you hiss at the cold feeling.

Jungkook scurries the files away from the table and picks you up so you can sit on the table, your shirt is then unbuttoned by him, and he lays soft kisses and slowly bends you down completely until your back is pressed on the table.

Beep beep beep

A loud beep of your alarm drags you out of the dream and you gasp and sit up "fuck did I just have a wet dream about my doctor?" you mutter and grab your phone to off the alarm, you check the number of notifications you had overnight and stumble upon the "doctor's appointment" reminder.

Gasping for the second time now you scurry away from the bed to get a nice warm shower and head to the mister ever so sexy man your doctor "Jeon Jungkook".

"It's itchy lately, hasn't got better since last week" You talk to the man who is between your legs while you keep trying to not moan while checking your vagina. "You may get dressed now and it looks completely fine, and I can't see any infection" Jungkook says and stands straight and moves to his chair right behind the desk giving you some space so you can change.

closing the blinds and getting dressed you place the hospital gown tidily in the basket and move to his table, you grab on the sanitizer which is on his table pump a few drops on yours and apply it while your doctor writes down the prescription.

You notice the hot features of a sleeve tattoo of his you saw on his Instagram when you stalked him on the first day of meeting him, the depth of his gaze looked enchanting, and the afternoon sunlight complimented his skin tone well while you were busy studying his features a small cough brings you out of the daydream.

"Here miss y/n" The doctor hands you the prescription and you widen your eyes seeing at the statement which had written "bath three times a day" You eye him and check yourself by smelling when he isn't looking, and you smell perfectly fine because you sprayed almost the bottle of the perfume and bathed with the new soap bar you bought recently. Giving him a crooked smile you leave the room embarrassed.

Crumbling the paper you place it in your purse and straight away call your best friends to meet up for a brunch and she gladly accepts.

"No, but like seriously y/n" Chae and Yuna both seem shocked and confused and you appear to be more embarrassed "Yeah, he wrote that in the prescription" You show her the paper Jungkook gave you, and she says he wrote it so that you could maintain a proper hygiene and you buy it and proceed to eat your brunch in the cafe.

"Chae Yuna, you can go ahead I'm staying back so I can spend some time with Yoongi, I haven't been catching up on him." Tell her you give her a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, and you part ways.

You head to the bar where yoongi works as a bartender and you make sure to buy his favorite chocolate on your way, you reach there in less than five minutes and there you see Yoongi arranging the glasses in line just to make them fancier.

"Hey, how are you?" Yoongi is slightly confused to see you in the middle of the day and that too a weekday, you chuckle at him, and you tell him you are fine, and you had to meet a friend and not tell him the details about the meeting with the doctor.

"You up for a drink y/n?" The sweet boy asks you and you gladly accept it, looking here and there you realize he is working alone and his intern who never fails to hit on Chae is missing.

"Is Taehyung not here?" you ask him, and he says he had ditched today just because he had an early date and will be here for the night shift nodding you accept his famous highball, "you want any help? I'm free for the day" you offer him, and he casually refuses, and you become a bit sad, but you play it cool.

Yoongi looks at your features and chuckles and tells you he is just kidding and won't mind your help and he's rather happy you want to help him, before coming back to the other side of the table you hand him the chocolate you bought.

Helping him and chatting for a while you hug him and say goodbye, you notice a bit of blush creeping on his cheeks but you wave it up because it can be the alcohol you both drank, and you get back to your home and get a bit of rest so you can wake up fresh and get back on your work from home.

Taglist: @jungk97kwife, @kimmingyuswifee ,@kingofbodyrolls

A/n : this short but hehe more is yet to come 💖

#jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfics #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook x oc #jjk smut #jjk series #yoongi #min yoongi #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic bts smut

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taegularities · 1 year

Text

candles & flames | jjk (m)

chapter I: water

Summary: He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: so! they’re both royalty/high in society (gd should’ve called this ‘royals’), fuckboy jk, banter, past side character death mentioned, hints of fake dating but not really, angst!, the ending.., douchebag jk at times, crying, guilt, jk is sus too, bits of jealousy, society sucks, explicit sexual content: carriage shenanigans, sexual tension, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), mouth fucking, spit stuff?, manhandling, spanking, dry humping, dirty talk, angry foreplay but things get softer, he comes in her mouth <3, they’re hiding during all that <3 ➳ wc: 24.6k 😐 ➳ a/n: sooo. i love e2l and regency aus, but i haven’t written much/any of those, so they’re not my strongest suit. but hopefully y’all will still enjoy reading it, bc i did enjoy writing it. it’s just the beginning hehe <3 this entirely new genre/trope took some brainpower lmao so i’d love if you dropped by and told me what you think !! 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

Jeon Jungkook’s sincerity doesn’t run as deep as his undeniable beauty.

His lopsided, rosy smile certainly has the unyielding power to deceive; but the confident walk and elegant bow are only convincing until he opens his mouth. You thought she knew — thought she’d be wiser than to fall for some deceitful doe eyes.

So your violent disappointment doesn’t come as a surprise when she strolls into your mansion tonight. An arm linked with his; her gentle hand remains on his light blue coat, and he looks as mannered as ever.

If you didn’t know about his nightly activities or what reputation he holds, you’d perhaps fall for the soft, treacly smile.

You stand on the second last step of your stairway, awaiting your sister’s arrival with the same old vexation you’ve felt since you met Jungkook for the first time. Years ago.

When he spots you, he sends a sly wink your way — he knows exactly what you harbour for him.

You respond with an unpleasant grimace, and he rolls his eyes with a scoff, bidding your sister goodbye for the night. She’s well mannered, too, or at least more than you.

Not that you walk the streets with a lifted dress and curses falling off your tongue. But she definitely hides her distaste for people better than you.

What surprises you, though… she’s not hiding anything with Jungkook. She genuinely respects him. Which you, personally, don’t quite understand.

When their farewells are over, she greets you with a nudge of your shoulder, and you follow her to her room with a deep sigh. You plump on her bed with worry carved between your eyebrows, watch her grant her scalp relief from the complicated hairdo.

“Tell me,” you start, meeting her eyes in her vanity mirror, “what do you like about him so much?”

You expect a grand confession of love; musings, poetry, a list of dozens of traits that won’t sound like him at all.

But the actual reaction you get back throws a thousand question marks into your brain.

“Nothing.”

You wait a moment. Perhaps she’ll elaborate, provide an explanation you can get behind.

When she doesn’t, you ask, “...What?”

“I mean. He’s kind, of course. He didn’t insult me or anything. In fact, he’s been nothing but a proper gentleman. But.” She lifts her shoulders in nonchalance and takes a deep breath. “I thought I needed to do this, because I was raised for this very moment all my life.”

You groan.

You’ve heard this speech before — and you still deeply disagree.

“Slowly dissolving in fencing and horse riding classes when I don’t even wish to get married,” she admits, and your eyes widen. “Or at least not to him. Just didn’t realise until now.”

“What do you mean?”

“It means that I’m not suitable for marriage yet. Honestly, you should be the one he courts.”

You let out a slightly shrill laugh, wondering if you misheard. But her insanity never knew any boundaries, so you shouldn’t be surprised that she uttered such a suggestion at all.

“You’re joking.”

“No!” she defends. “He suits you a lot better. Besides, I spoke to mother and father already and asked them to put Jeon’s hand in yours.”

Now that’s a piece of information that makes your heart race.

No way.

Just because one sister rejected, it doesn’t mean it’s the other’s turn. You live in a twisted world.

But you’re not playing her or anyone’s game, not today, not with that… man.

“Excuse me, what the hell did you say?” you snarl, leaving the bed in a hurry.

You step next to her, raging. Your heaving chest is bursting; even more so when she barely even flinches, unbothered and calm.

And then she dares to question, “What’s the problem?”

“The problem?!” you nearly yell back, nails digging into your palm hard enough to leave crescent scars. “I cannot stand this man. I— I heard from Aera just yesterday that she saw him leaving some tailor’s place. Buttons open.”

“What tailor?”

“The one near the theatre. He frequents that place sometimes.” You gesture around wildly, shaking your head like she’s lost her mind. Which you’re certain she has. “And her friends’. And that’s all that Aera sees, so God knows where else he puts his—”

“Does it matter?” Your sister turns in her seat, looking up to you with a sombre expression. “He’s a man, and he’ll get away with it. They do those things all the time. But… He’s still an important suitor and he’s not off the market. Heard he’s in search of someone.”

You fold your arms, tilting your head. “Off the market? Mother always says that about us as well. But we’re not objects to be sold.”

“It’s how the world views marriage, sweetheart. You should be happy our parents allow our suitors to court us.” You turn away, rubbing your eyes. It’s common these days, though. No need to deem yourself lucky just yet. “If we lived a few hundred years earlier or were raised by more authoritative parents, we would’ve been married with kids by the age of eighteen.”

“You’re genuinely insane,” is all you throw back.

But she doesn’t capitulate yet; instead, she clarifies, “You don’t need to meet him. But I just want to state that I won��t anymore, either.”

“And… you said just that to mother?”

“Of course,” she persists, running a fancy comb through her silky hair, “I’m her darling daughter, so she’ll do anything to see me happy.

You squint your eyes. “What did you say?”

“I said… that he and I aren’t compatible. That I do not want to spend my life with a man who doesn’t understand what I desire.”

You look at her in a faint mock, shifting your balance to one leg. A hand planted on your waist, you ask, “And you think I would be a better fit for him?”

“I mean, it’s a Lord, for God’s sake! Such royalty doesn’t approach us every day! And yes, I think you’re very different from me. And a lot like him,” she emphasises, once more.

“Whatever.”

Her eyes flash back to her mirror, cautious hands taking off the precious jewellery. For a moment, you don’t think much of the silence, but when you spare her another glance, she looks distracted.

An empty gaze and a frozen body; something that only ever occurs when she’s lost, deep in thought. Which means — something must be wrong.

You kneel next to her, placing a warm hand on her arm, and ask, “What is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying,” you immediately snap back, “and you were never good at it anyway.”

She clicks her tongue, puffing out a breath. Leans forward and rubs her temples as she whines, “What do you want me to say? That I got to know his cousins while spending time with him? That I might or might not have fallen for one of them?”

You’re speechless. Baffled and unable to make sense of her babbling.

“But that I can’t possibly chase their gazes, because they’ll be gone in a month again?” she adds.

You have a slight hunch about what she might be suggesting. It’s not particularly difficult to figure out — not when you’re aware of Jeon Jungkook’s immediate relatives.

“Are you…” you whisper. “Are you talking about—”

“His name is Kim Seokjin,” she tells you, gulping hard, “and he has me wrapped around that pretty finger of his.”

“Does… does Jungkook know?”

“No, he doesn’t,” she explains; all of a sudden, she sounds exasperated, “but he knows something’s off. That’s why he’s not trying as hard anymore, though he genuinely seemed interested in me. That’s also why I needed you to take my place, because I do not want to hurt him.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, humming for a moment before you tell her, “I doubt you’re hurting him.”

She looks at you carefully; her fingers wander from her temples to her forehead. “Because of the things you’ve heard?”

“It just doesn’t sound like he cares a ton. And he has no manners,” you look away, hiding the transparent disgust in your countenance. “He’s frustrating and unpredictable, and his parents… caretakers had to save him several times.”

In a moment of despair, she grants you the tiniest of smiles; doesn’t notice your hesitation or the flaw in your sentence. Her eyes carry ache and hopelessness; you wish you could change reality in a way that suits her.

Gently, she assures, “Say whatever you will, sister. But upon meeting him… I don’t think you would still hold the same opinion about him.”

“...What?”

“He’s a gentleman when he wants something. And in the end, he won’t remember his weekend flings across town, but… the one he falls for. I’m just not suitable to be that woman.”

She’s lucky neither her nor Jungkook made a great deal out of their brief friendship, or the streets would already be talking about their falling out. As far as you recall, they never attended a ball together, or spent time anywhere but in one of his mansion’s private halls, sipping some beverages.

You knew it sounded boring.

But you didn’t think it’d be over within a week.

And you won’t question again when she, your mother, your father or anyone involved in this wicked case began picturing Jungkook and you as a duo. You’ve never expressed anything but utter disdain for him — so you’re bewildered.

Instead of clutching the indignation raging in your torso, you simply mumble, “Alright…”

She reminds you, “I’m not forcing you.” You grimace, and she responds with a weak smile, “I started this as a joke in fact, but now that I think about it… do consider it.”

And that’s it.

She stands from her chair, mindlessly braiding her hair; not quite ready for bed, but clearly in dire need to be left alone with her thoughts. Which you understand momentarily when she turns to you, softly stating, “I shall rest now.”

“Alright,” you repeat, arguments and confusion ebbing down.

And eventually, you stroll to your room to battle your very own muddled up thoughts.

The night stretches endlessly, and the morning is quiet.

Your father withdrew to his room possibly before your eyes slipped open, and your mother is, if you were to believe your sister, already promenading with some of her friends. Titles are scattered across the peerage, so you guess it’s more of a circle to exchange rumours than anything.

Your morning remains uneventful until noon breaks in; you soon wish you could continue wallowing in boredom when you fly down the stairs, opening the door where the three loud knocks came from.

Half expecting your tailor to bring new gifts for an upcoming ball, your smile soon drops when you see who’s actually ogling at you.

Eyes flit from the ground to yours. He puts on a sweet smile, taking off his gloves. He’s wearing a long dark coat with a red waistcoat underneath, matching the colour of the obligatory hat that you’re sure he didn’t wear.

His hair is too flawless, not a strand out of place, parted on the side.

You might never be able to understand his lifestyle or his will to roam around the town so recklessly, but you’ll never deny how unnaturally handsome Jeon Jungkook is.

Might be the slightly tilted smile, the big, jet black eyes. Or the golden skin, the button nose. Constantly pouty lips, deep dimples that he doesn’t need to smile for.

If he wasn’t as imprudent as his reputation suggests, you’d probably be one of the many women sighing and dreaming in his presence.

But alas.

“Good morning,” he says, his voice as mellow as his simple nod dashing, “is your sister present, perhaps?”

He sounds amiable, attempting his best to not vex you more than he already does. You want to respond in similar kind, but you can’t quite blandish the truth when you tell him, “She doesn’t want to see you anymore.”

His eyes widen, but blink just as fast. The initial shock ebbs down as soon as it came — as though he expected it, but hoped for a different outcome.

Jungkook sighs, quietly complaining, “Figured that… but she could’ve told me.”

“She… she said you knew.”

“I suppose I did,” he says, clicking his tongue. He tilts his head for a moment, his pupils shaking in distress like his soul is falling apart. Then, he averts your gaze to stare at the outer wall of your house. Pausing, uncertain what to say before he finally asks, “Did she tell you why?”

But you won’t break this easily. Not due to the honey sweet tone in his voice. “She’s my sister. I can’t spill secrets to a stranger.”

Jungkook and you neither meet nor speak too often. But whenever he crosses your path, no matter how often you try to dodge his looming presence, there’s familiarity in his words.

Like now.

“Are we really strangers?”

You suppose you’re not.

And the truth is, if Jungkook wasn’t out to clash with you every chance he gets, you might be able to forgive what happened so many years ago.

Perhaps you’ve forgiven already — perhaps there’s even a shred of empathy left in you that feels guilty for disliking him as you do.

If he was nicer to you. If he didn’t mess with your kindness so much.

“I can’t. And I won’t say anything,” you answer eventually, straightening your back.

“Very well. I guess I’ll figure it out myself.”

“I guess you will.”

Annoyed, he half turns around, giving up with a shaking head before he halts. He hesitates, delaying whatever he still needs from you. You await his unspoken question patiently.

And then he finally looks at you, only moving his head, still in flight position, “Is she okay?”

The few times you granted him a look at balls or gatherings, his smirk was mischievous. Passing by you, the gazes he threw were sly and arrogant.

But right now, you see none of it. He looks genuinely worried; somewhat apologetic. So you nod, and tell him, “She is. We’ll be going on a walk today.”

Jungkook has never quite been as kind to you as today. But once you reassure him that the gap between him and your sister won’t linger, he hums. Sighs. The gentle armour falls off his face, and his usual cocky demeanour returns.

But you won’t let him emotionally damage you today. Instead, you ask first, “What about you, prince? Another appointment somewhere?”

You know he’s not quite a prince. He’s the Duke’s son — but maybe you’re purposely trying to be rude.

And it truly is demeaning to switch the title. It’s most likely redundant, too.

But you can’t bear his words anymore. Hurt accompanied his presence one too many times in the past, and you can’t hear any of it anymore.

He looks confused, eyebrows shifting closer, and asks, “Appointment?”

“I just… I figured you have plenty of other rendezvous you can attend. That you’ll get over my sister quickly.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow in irritation, fingers fiddling with his gloves, “Hold on. Did I do something to you?”

What?

He must be mocking you.

“You don’t kno––” you begin, only to be cut off.

“I know we snapped at each other at parties, but… you can’t hate me this much.”

Funny. Because you know he hates you just as much.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you emphasise, stepping closer to the threshold, “if you truly don’t remember, then it’s not worth mentioning.”

“Wait, I— I honestly just—”

“Go take a walk. Maybe you will know then.”

You shut the door without granting him a chance to justify himself and press your back against the cold wall. Your chest rises and falls once, heavily and deeply, and you shut your eyes.

You despise confrontation more than him. To him, you might seem like a shameless, wilding brat, but you’ve never been this defensive with anyone before.

Reputable kindness, endless grace, yet a respectable feisty nature let you shine in people’s eyes.

Not in his. And that’s alright.

When your eyes crack open again, your mother’s stepping down to you, a soft smile playing around her lips. You raise your eyebrows, confused as you ask, “I thought you were out with your girlfriends.”

“I was… an hour ago.”

She must have come back when you were scouring the library. You didn’t hear.

“What happened there?” she wonders, pointing a finger to the door.

You push yourself off the wall, flattening your dress. “That was nothing.”

Your mother silences. Looks at you knowingly; then spits the topic you dreaded, “Your sister has broken her affiliation with him.”

“Affiliation? Maybe that’s why.”

“What about you?”

“...What about me?”

She’s careful when it’s about Jungkook. You’ve always reacted to him like this — even when the trio announced him as your sister’s potential future husband for the first time.

So she waits for your expressions to relax, folding her hands, slowly blinking, before she reminds you, “There was a time, long before he courted your sister, when he was almost your suitor.”

No.

You stuffed this very memory in the back of your mind, and you won’t let her tug it to the front. You won’t even tell her what occurred back then; why you wrote him off, all the things he said.

You used to taint him in others’ eyes; but you’re tired now. The negativity may as well stay within you.

“So?” you finally murmur.

“You could meet him. You should.”

“Why? Why does everybody say that? Or… or expect that from me?”

“It’s not about expecting anything from you,” your mother argues, “and in the end, it is up to you what you decide. But your sister has rambled on and on, multiple times, how he reminds her of you, how you’d be perfect if you gave each other a cha—”

“That sounds surreal, mother.”

“If there is any chance for you to be happy, to be something your sister can’t be yet… why not try?” She’s persistent, you must admit. You do wish she put her energy into something else, though. “But. I understand. If he was to ask, you would undoubtedly say no… right?”

“Precisely.”

She smiles at you, briefly closing her eyes. Then, she turns on her heel, lifting her shoulders just a little as if to mock you, and breathes, “Very well.”

In a way, you often wonder whether mothers possess the gift of sight.

One time, she foreshadowed rain on a seething, sunny day, claiming that her headache only occurred when weather conditions changed drastically.

Another day, when you were around twenty years old, she’d warned you to be careful when boating with your friends that day. You remained home, heeding her message, only to find out not long after that there had been a dangerous fight amongst gangsters just where you would’ve rented a boat.

It seems that even today, her mocking sarcasm and cunning smile didn’t disappoint.

Or, perhaps they did.

Because in the best case scenario, she would’ve walked away and finished the topic nonchalantly — that she didn’t, manifested the second knock on your door today, close to your bedtime while everyone else is already asleep.

Not you.

The late night snack happens too often these days, your hidden guilty pleasure. Not rarely does your tailor wonder why your corset needs new stitching each time, but you can’t bother less about this age’s beauty standards and starvation techniques for women.

Dropping the biscuit, you rub your hands clean off the crumbs, rushing to the door without expecting anyone tonight.

The first thought that flashes through your mind is that it might be someone your father awaited. Last week alone, he had two visitors at this time, discussing some more finances, some more business.

But not today.

Instead, the same familiar face greets you that you sent away this noon.

“You’re… here again,” you say, but Jungkook’s expressions don’t budge a bit.

He looks nervous, somewhat lost. As though he spent his hours adrift on lonely streets, unsure what road leads home.

What he says surprises you.

“Could we go on a walk?”

“On a walk?”

“I need to speak to you.”

The atmosphere and mood differ vastly from when he appeared on your doorstep before. He’s looking at you directly this time, not quite averting your gaze as he did last time. At noon, he sought out someone else, finding you.

And now that he’s face to face with the exact person he needs, his eyes are more piercing, more focused.

Rejection lies casually on your tongue. It’s an easy word for you when it comes to him; and you know exactly how effortless it would be if you sent him home now as well.

But then, you remember what your mother said — wonder whether she delivered a secret letter to him, urging him to come back. Or perhaps, she once again foresaw the future and gave you the faintest signal to do the opposite of what you’d usually do.

Maybe.

So you take a deep breath, glancing behind you, hesitating for a moment as you ask, “You shouldn’t be asking a lady to accompany you on a walk, not at this hour.”

“I’m not trying to abduct you. I just need to talk a little, and I will send you back home safely.”

You can’t tell him that your mother would jump at the opportunity to bring you closer to him — perhaps not so late, and perhaps not alone. But she’s not the one whose permission you need.

But your own.

“What if someone sees us?” you try again.

“They won’t. All you have is a garden nearby, and the worst beast we might encounter is the sin… lust.”

You grimace in disgust, ready to step back before he starts chuckling and clarifies, “Not with me. But. I am saying that those who still roam the streets will be more terrified of tainting their own reputation than yours.”

You’re out of options and excuses.

Licking your lip, you spare another glance to the hall behind you. Nothing, no one.

And eventually, you let the shawl you dropped on your shoulders an hour ago fall, wrapping it around your arms and chest as you step out into the night.

The garden, as Jungkook deduced, lies few minutes from your house. It’s a pleasant night to spend time outside, and if you weren’t a homebody during the weekend, you might have taken a stroll tonight anyway.

Your area is safe; your mother still doesn’t enjoy your lone escapades.

Once you’ve reached the garden, you let out a relieved sigh. In truth, you can barely see the colours of the flowers around you, but you do register the fragrance that the summer breeze wafts towards you.

You like the scent; bask in it. It feels as though it’s repairing broken fragments of you that you didn’t know existed in the first place.

As you take a seat on the low, cold stone wall, you break the silence of the last minutes, and ask, “Why did you seek me out anew tonight?”

Jungkook snickers for a bare moment, leaning forwards and spreading his legs, folding his hands between them. He looks up to your puzzled expression, and states, “You don’t need to speak so formally to me. We’re not at the Queen’s castle.”

You exhale, letting your shoulders drop a little, and repeat, “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

His laughter continues faintly before it dies, but in the faint light of the moon, you still see the remnants of his smile. Ingenuine, keeping it to hold onto optimism.

He admits, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

You don’t have the faintest clue what that might mean. But you try, “You didn’t have anywhere else to be?”

“Maybe I did. But it’s gotten boring. Trivial.”

You roll your eyes. If you meant resting in his room, then Jungkook means rolling around on someone’s sheets.

If you’re the calmness of water, then he’s the danger of fire.

You tease, “Poor you. Desired by everyone.”

“Not everyone, right?” You see him winking and shake your head in disbelief. Look away and directly into the direction from where the night wind blows. Shiver. “Are you cold? We can go back—”

Something in your mind finally breaks, and you interject, causing him to shrink, “Let it out. Honestly. Why are you being so nice to me?”

He looks baffled, pouting, eyes wider than usually. He plays the act of the innocent lamb perfectly, but you’re not stupid. Not even when he asks, “Am I not allowed to?”

“Sure,” you shrug your shoulders, rubbing your knees, “but it doesn’t suit you.”

“I’ll have you know,” he begins. He leans closer than you’d like him to. “That I’m constantly very kind to women.”

You huff. “So you don’t usually regard me as a woman.”

“I mean. Now I do.”

God.

Insufferable.

You tongue the inside of your cheek, observing his provoking grin for a moment longer until you spit, “Whatever.”

Wiping the non-existent dust off your gown, you stand, wondering why you agreed in the first place, and mumble, “This is an absolute waste of my time. I could be sleeping.”

Perhaps it’s the intensely piqued glare you throw at him; or perhaps, it’s the fact that he came all the way here, to converse with you and have you walk away.

But Jungkook’s strings break, and he rubs his face violently, grabbing your wrist before you can walk away. He tugs at your arm and pulls your body back, eliciting a gasp out of you as he realises what he did.

“What in the worl—” you exclaim, possibly loud enough for the neighbourhood to hear.

But he lets you go immediately, shushing you with a finger on his plush lips before he whisper-yells, “What the hell is your problem?!”

You fold your arms, furrowing your eyebrows. “Ah, yeah. Here he is, the man I know.”

“No, seriously,” he challenges, taking a stand in front of you. “This condescending attitude is just what made me treat you the way I did.”

You let a breathy laugh fall, mustering all the mockery in your voice as you say, “You can’t excuse anything you’ve ever said with this.”

“Why can I not? Were you not going around town, spreading absolute bull about me?”

You remember. You did. But that’s because Jungkook began; knew how to humiliate you, knew how to nearly destroy your persona to the entire peerage.

Seems that he carried this with him just as much as you did. Only, you never feigned kindness; never forced yourself to amity to the point of implosion.

And Jungkook… Jungkook is imploding.

Annoyed and harsh, you inquire, “Have you ever wondered why?”

“I knew why. But you started the hostility.”

“I did not,” you defend, “You just don’t seem to recall everything.”

Pause.

Unsteady breathing, clenched fists.

His expression is changing, and his body is backtracking. Suddenly, his eyes look crestfallen, not as filled with fury anymore.

And you know why.

“I remember,” he admits, “But I… I’d rather pretend I don’t.”

Again… you know why.

“I understand,” you tell him, just a portion calmer. “It still didn’t feel good.”

You think you see the same fragments of guilt that are cutting your heart. Because when you think back to what he’s pretending to forget, you still can’t hate the boy for what he did.

Only for the things he kept doing.

“I needed to speak to you, but… I never wanted to bring up all the moments I hurt you,” he mutters.

You bite your lower lip, shaking your head. And then, you tell him, “You didn’t just hurt me. You humiliated me.”

“I—”

“You say you remember. But what about all the details, all the tiny moments? The exact things you said.”

He shakes his head, urging you to stop.

Yet, you say, still calmly, “Let me help you remember it all.”

His mouth opens to speak, but you’re already a step ahead.

“Apart from that very first night when we were children, Jungkook,” you begin, closing the distance by a bit, “you would always tell your cousins how stuck up I looked standing aside at any gathering.”

“I—”

“That I was an outcast. You would compare my dresses to fruits, laugh at them, or point out a minor flaw about me, or make fun of how I never smiled because of how tight my corset sat.”

The words spilling out of you were long overdue.

In truth, you’ve never been alone with him. You could never lash out at him at balls without him embarrassing you back a thousandfold.

And right now, your chest is burning, sadness in your eyes as you narrate further, “And I loved those dresses. The young and naive me would… prepare them days before and jump in joy. Just to hide in the back once she saw you.”

Remorse overtakes his features. You’ve never witnessed such a thing before — and despite the gratification coursing through you, you can’t help but feel bad, too.

“I didn’t know,” he murmurs, “I was… reacting. I was furious, because I know what you told people about me. I was never interested in becoming the honourable Lord everyone wants me to be, but I still despised the judgemental side-eyes.”

“I did it, because I remembered how you’ve always treated me. Besides, I never ruined your reputation, because you did it very well for yourself!”

Shit.

You regret it once you’ve said it.

He winces, and you step back again, clearing your throat. You shut your eyes, and open them again, talking on when he doesn’t respond, “And you know what else? Do you know what the worst thing you did and my biggest mistake was?”

He knows. He must.

Because the time you’re referencing, on that very gathering, your eyes met just briefly. And he could see the damp dejection on your waterline.

“Listen…” he tries, but you inhale, loudly and deeply.

“When I was being paraded by boys, I still thought it a good idea to accept you as a suitor, because my mother convinced me to. I thought… Odd! I’m just a Viscount’s daughter. The Duchess’ son might court me? An honour.”

Your voice is trembling; less because of the tears that hold back, but more because of the anxiety that confrontation brings. No matter the damage caused, you feel bad.

But you can’t stop the flood of thoughts.

“We were adults then, and I was ready to forgive you,” you tell him, gulping, “until you told a handful of men who liked me, that I’m the most untrustworthy snake in town. And how my sister,” you laugh; your gaze shifts to the ground, “is much more beautiful and actually worth the trouble.”

The waterfall of your words comes to an end abruptly.

Silence falls between you, and so does Jungkook’s head.

“You never even apologised,” you tell him.

Jungkook’s thoughts whirl around their own axis.

Life threw hurdles at him, and soon made him someone he’d never aspired to be. Half of the things you listed have long escaped his memory — what remains is how empty he felt each night before he fell asleep.

How bitter and cold he’d become after one too many strokes of fate.

Were you the only person he hurt as he did?

Probably not. Though you were possibly his easiest target; good to blow out steam on when you tossed the opportunity to hate you to his feet.

And what’s left to say now?

“I am sorry,” he mumbles.

But you don’t look convinced. Your eyes are misty, your demeanour despondent. You don’t respond.

The reason he knocked on your door tonight emerged due to entirely different reasons. The spat you both just engaged in wasn’t part of the plan.

Yet, somehow, you’ve still arrived at just the right point.

Where Jungkook’s suggestion might make sense to you, only maybe, considering that he has barely grasped his own ideas and thoughts.

Aware how ridiculous it might come out, Jungkook treads carefully, almost back pedalling before he chooses to let out, “Let me court you.”

And the world suddenly stands still.

For him.

For you.

Words echo. Court… you?

You’re confused; your rage is dying. The muscles of your face relax, and you part your lips, probably deeming his proposition a joke before you ask, “What?”

“I know you can’t stand me. And… I think you know you’re not my first choice either, but. My mother wants me to approach you.”

Your eyes widen, as if he’s said something you resonate with. As if you’ve landed in the most absurd coincidence.

“Your… your mother?” you stutter.

Jungkook nods. “She’s acquainted with your sister. And with you as well. She claims that if your sister can’t spend her life with me, I should take a step towards you.”

And when you speak, Jungkook understands your prior expression, because you silently confess to float in the same boat, “Did you talk this out with my mother? Is she involved?”

“No… what?”

“Nothing. What you’re suggesting is insane.”

Jungkook draws a breath; fingers lift to rub his aching eyelids, “I know. As I said… I don’t think we fit together as well as my mother might think, but… you enjoy a great reputation. She thinks I should try it with people like you before throwing my life away.”

By now, you’re finding it ridiculous, because you laugh, discouraging Jungkook further. “Try what? I am not a toy to prepare you for something better. I won’t be your saviour, and I don’t want to be.”

“You wouldn’t be. But, despite the hate we carry for each other, I think that you and I would understand each other.”

“Understand… how?”

You’re not buying it. He can see it.

He knew his idea would land on empty ears — it sounds too stupid, too sudden.

But he still attempts, “Aren’t you and I both… acting like we’re in the middle but never quite there?”

“...How?”

“I walk around town. You have dozens of friends. But when it comes to life or meaningful thinking… how often do you find yourself trusting someone?”

The breeze cools a little more, playing around your locks, dishevelling his hair. For a moment, you look to his feet, and then you whisper through the susurrating wind, “How would you know?”

Easy answer.

“Because I saw you at balls. You would converse and dance with the guests, but once you’d satisfied their needs to gain the attention of the beautiful honourable sisters… you retracted. As though you’d finished a task. They were happy, and you were happy to observe.”

You hesitate.

And then say, “You were, too, weren’t you? If you didn’t observe, you wouldn’t know all that.”

“Maybe. They say keep your friends close, but your enemies…”

“You dislike me, but still want to court me?”

“I… I want to try. I don’t want to regret not trying. And I am sick of sleeping around town,” he confesses. It’s something you didn’t expect, he thinks. Because you tilt your head in question.

He assumes you don’t hear it when he adds in a quiet whisper, “That brute in our mansion is right about one thing… I’m not good for much.”

Jungkook can’t decipher whether you heard it and are ignoring it or whether you didn’t hear and are still ignoring it. Because you state, “I don’t want you to be my friend just to find out who you are.”

And again, he defends, “That’s not what it is. I know who I am. I just need someone to talk about it who will be neutral. If we still hate each other later, I won’t ask anything more of you.”

That’s it. Nothing more… seemingly.

Your thoughts are all over the place.

He says one thing, and then another. You interpret it one way, and then another.

Your head needs rest.

“Do you realise that you barely make any sense?” you shoot, impatient and tired.

“Do you realise that most of our feuds are in the past?” he counters, his voice louder now. “If we hadn’t wounded each other so much at such a young age… I wonder if we could’ve been friends. I just. I don’t wish to foster bitter relationships anymore.”

You remain quiet. So he’s saying… he wants to get closer to you, because he assumes you match his mindset? Similar to your mother, to his mother?

He wants to build a relationship with someone honest, who won’t gloss over the truth.

And.

He wants to eliminate the hatred in his life. Wants to renew his opinion about people. Thinks that with proper peace, you could be friends, if not more.

Is that the summary of his suggestion? Does it make sense? You don’t know.

“I need to redeem myself,” he then tells you, “I know I wasn’t the best person, but I want to be better.”

“All of a sudden?”

“Perhaps. Or maybe not. Maybe your sister brought me closer to a memory with you. And the memory led to what my father wanted. And… that led to me realising… that I’ve become the person he didn’t want me to be.”

Maybe that’s valid reasoning. But you’re sceptical. And if you were to give him a chance, you’d still proceed cautiously.

“Which means…” you start.

“That I shouldn’t have done all that to you that night. I don’t think it’s easy for either of us to find liking each other, because too much happened, but… I want to try.”

Final statement.

He wants to try. Even adds one single, “Please.”

And you’re conflicted. It’s a risk, isn’t it? A risk to get hurt, or to be disappointed, to fall back into old habits without any progress.

But.

Maybe you should try the way he is.

Your, as well as his, mother vowed that you are identical in personality. Your sister did, too.

To you, you’re water, and he’s fire — but perhaps there’s a grey area where you meet. Where you collide and become steam, evaporating, hot yet calm.

So you finally say, “One chance. And that's all you get.”

You remember being eleven at most.

You remember navigating through the darkness, at a time that your parents were long awaiting you at home. You had just stepped out of your friend’s place a few minutes ago; in hindsight, you should’ve never gone to someone whose parents allowed such a thing and never bothered to bring you home.

Even though you didn’t live too far away, the journey home, wading through the rain, felt endless.

Oh, and there’s that, too.

You remember pouring rain.

And spotting the Duke’s son when you least expected it.

Back then, you wouldn’t see him in town too often. In truth, he and his brother spent most of their time studying in a much livelier city, learning manners, acquiring skills.

They’d come home for the weekend, and even then, they wouldn’t leave their mansion and their parents’ side much.

But when the beloved Duke died, leaving your town gasping and in quiet anguish, you saw Jungkook from this close for the very first time.

It was spring, you believe. Warm enough to enjoy lunch near the lake, to exchange conversations and jokes. But the nightly fog and rain were still freezing, yet half as bad with the umbrella over your head.

He was weeping, alone on some run-down bench; legs crossed, barely noticing you when you drew closer.

“Excuse me?” your tiny voice asked; you recall squinting your eyes. “Don’t you need to be home?” He didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at you. “Does someone know where you are?”

Your house was a few streets away, but walking to the mansion took a fair amount of time. You wondered whether he’d run all the way down here; with a childish mind, you also wondered what it felt like running from home.

Arguments are a common human trait, especially as a child grows up. Back then, you didn’t know, and despite your obedience in your house, you wondered if you had the guts to leave, should your parents give you hell today.

Jungkook’s affliction, you understood. You figured why he was here at all, lonesome and lost, unable to take the gut-wrenching cries that probably roamed their castle.

You reached out to touch his shoulder, and leaned in to lift the umbrella over both your heads. It was the first time he met your eyes — the white of them was red, tears on his cheek merging with the rain.

The sheer amount of pain overwhelmed your fragile heart. You were just a child, watching someone shatter and break in front of you. He had big eyes back then, too, the same pouty lips, and his crying fractured something deep inside you.

You’d claim that you’d always been an empathic child — and you’d claim that Jungkook, once upon a time, used to be similar.

But not anymore.

That night changed him. Or at least, you think it was one of the reasons that altered his personality.

Because from afar, he appeared sweet, friendly, and mannered. But you didn’t expect his fiery reaction when you said, “You can come home with me.”

It was a simple suggestion. A sign of a stranger’s sympathy.

But Jungkook either didn’t catch your amenity or didn’t know how to give it back properly.

So he didn’t at all.

When he spoke, he sounded scared. Even in his fear, though, he wasn’t gentle with you.

Today, you can only remember every word when you think about it hard. When you don’t, fragments of sentences flash through your mind, something with home and dead and cosy fantasy world.

You’ve long pushed it out of your head; you wonder how much he remembers.

But you still know that he left you speechless and confused. You were hurt, as much as a child can be hurt from another stranger child; but even then, you knew where his temper was coming from.

You silenced.

You stood in front of him in the cold shower. Water collected in your shoes, goosebumps on your skin, but you weren’t shivering anymore.

His breath fell heavily, and his gaze fixated somewhere near your knees. And despite the things he’d said, you touched his shoulders again, telling him, “Go home.”

To which he replied, “I don’t have to.”

“But you will get sick.”

“Who cares?”

It was tough to come up with something he’d want to hear — and when you lost the courage bit by bit, close to leaving him and walking away, you heard a carriage approach.

The next bits have always been chipped particles of your memory.

How someone stepped out of the carriage, thoroughly irked, calling his name and scolding the life out of him. The man was tall and well-built, handsome to a pleasant degree, but the monstrous anger in his face left an upsetting impression on you.

And Jungkook — he just listened. That is, until he finally conjured up an excuse; you still haven’t figured out what strange reason urged him to come up with, “I apologise. The girl led me to these alleys, and I couldn’t find my way back.”

Of all the things he could’ve said.

You still don’t know.

Lying isn’t the worst sin of them all; but sometimes, it does wound an eleven year old more than it should.

Because he said it quietly and calmly, differently from how he’d spoken to you.

You were too young. You didn’t understand how to effectively defend yourself.

So you panicked when the man you didn’t know — Jungkook’s uncle, his dowager mother’s cousin who later married her and became the Duke himself, as you’d find out — came closer, peppering you with a dozen questions.

He asked what you’d intended to do, or why you’d get in his way on such a day, and did you not know who that boy was? What had happened today? What you were getting yourself into?

That everyone was worried sick and your search for a playmate set the entire mansion ablaze?

You claimed that nothing happened, and that you’d just found him. That you wanted to help, that you would’ve told Jungkook’s family if there was any way to do so.

You were clutching the umbrella tight between your little fingers; and the hold didn’t lose until his eyebrows relaxed. Because in hindsight, you were lucky that he didn’t say anything worse, that he didn’t notify your parents or demanded anything for the damage.

The Jeons were grieving too much; they couldn’t be bothered with some girl.

So they both left.

You snap out of your trance, inches from Jungkook’s shoulder.

It’s bizarre to see him smiling at you now, an utter contrast to your first meeting. In truth, the entire world has changed.

You used to witness it from an innocent point of view; you’d hold onto your mother’s hand, and play with other girls until you started understanding the concept of such balls and soirees.

People are all looking at you, whispering to each other, gathering rumours and information to expand on later. Their eyes are wide when they see the two of you, lips parted.

Not too far from you, your mother and sister are nodding encouragingly, fitting into the atmosphere so much better tonight than you.

Of course they were delighted to hear the news.

Your father escaped to the garden, drinking with people he knows, talking about God knows what.

And here you are, next to the man that voiced the most unbelievable proposition you’ve ever heard.

The truth is.

You think you’ve long forgiven him for that night. The harsh words thrown at you, the lie he crafted, the anger his uncle unleashed on you.

You’ve forgiven him, because you can’t imagine the pain of losing someone so dear. His own father. Reigning during the day, gone that very night.

There’s not much one can hold against a child.

But what you hate is how much that night started. How it rolled out the rivalry without any valid reason.

How you grew to view him from your most bitter side, remembering the fear he put you through despite his own pain. How the gazes you gave him carried a sour taste, and how he consequently turned bitter, too.

He probably wasn’t always like that — but the years that followed made your life hell. The boy you heard of from other people, the reputation he held… gone one day.

As he grew up, he frequented various women’s places, a new one every other month, and they all would never stop swooning over him. He liked that.

Didn’t care about tarnishing his image — perhaps he thought it was his brother who’d reign one day anyway.

And somehow, he respected you the least. All the accusations you threw at him just two days ago, standing in the dark garden, you still take each of them to heart.

At some point you came up with the theory that he connects the memory of that night, his father’s death, too much with you. That this is why he’s always hated you, just because he could.

And you’re sure that this very theory of you is correct, because you don’t know many other of his victims.

But deep-rooted ache of the past or not.

Sometimes, a behaviour can’t be excused.

You look back and forth again.

Up to the chandelier dangling from the ceiling, to the orchestra chiming its music through the hall. Everything is bright and white, giggles drowning in the music, dancing couples ecstatic.

The hall is divided into obvious sections: courting men who impress gorgeous girls. Mothers fanning air into their faces and watching. The host nowhere to be seen and the scent of finger food filling the room.

If it wasn’t for the others’ occasional, judgemental glances, you might even find some liking in the aesthetics.

Jungkook insisted on making this the first opportunity to carry out his plan. Not that you weren’t coming to this fete anyway — you were anticipating this dress for days.

Your apparent suitor kept stopping every now and then throughout the night — or at least since you arrived forty minutes ago. He conversed with whoever approached him, and you realised that he knows far more people than you ever could.

Which shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering his status.

But it’s funny to you — how they’re smiling at him, speaking to him for their own advantage. Because you know for a fact that those are the same people who’d fire double as many malicious rumours about him back at you when you badmouthed him in the past.

They’re different from the men in Jungkook’s life. Because when his cousins trudge along, greeting him gently, their eyes land on you for just a moment; then back on Jungkook.

Kim Taehyung says, “Now that’s an unusual pairing if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Get used to it,” Jungkook counters.

Your head turns fast, and you regard him with a puzzled look.

What? Is he pretending? Get used to what?

You thought you were just trying this thing out.

“What happened to all those evil adjectives?” Taehyung prods, drawing close; Jungkook pushes him away lightly.

You gather that Kim Seokjin must be the mature one out of those two, because he boxes Taehyung in his sides, eliciting a deep groan. He looks at you so softly that you feel immediate sympathy with him.

Even though he might be one of the people who nodded along when Jungkook insulted you behind your back.

“I mean, we’re trying to get used to each other, too,” Jungkook clarifies.

You exhale in relief. Well, that certainly makes more sense.

“What for?” Taehyung asks.

“You don’t need to know everything. Or anything at all.”

“Alright,” Taehyung whines, full lips sulking as he steps away, “not like you tell me much anyway.”

Seokjin gives you one last, apologetic grin, walking away with his brother as though he’s babysitting him. You follow his movements, only smiling once you realise where he’s come to a stand.

You think he’s spotted your sister. And you keep watching as he moves to her slowly; watch as her gaze falls to the ground, eyelashes shyly brushing her cheeks.

He lifts a hand, and by the looks of it, you guess she has accepted his proposal to dance, too.

For a moment, you feel serene. Blend out the noise and brightness around you.

But as your smile widens and your heart soars, Jungkook calls your name as though it’s a melody.

Your focus breaks when your eyes fall on his, your joy replaced by confusion as he clears his throat and offers you a hand. His spontaneity must be a constant character trait of his, because up until now, you couldn’t predict a single word, a single motion of his.

“Would the lady like to dance?” he asks, an arm behind his back, just as high society’s rules claim.

You roll your eyes — he’s truly putting every bit of effort into this affair, isn’t he?

But you’re a lady indeed, and none to decline a gentleman’s kind offer. Not publicly, at least.

You plant a palm in his, and he leads you among the couples swaying away, lost in each other. Some conversing, some not. You throw your locks out of your face, drawing a long breath when his hand lifts to the small of your back.

It’s a soft touch, yet so unfamiliar. Strange. You’re not certain what to make of it.

You conjure a distraction from the questions in your mind, cocking an eyebrow as you state, “They seem to have quite an opinion about me.”

Jungkook’s pupils briefly move to where you assume his cousins must be standing, though you can see at least one of them dancing not far from you. Basking in more amusement than you ever might with the very man staring at you.

Jungkook kisses his teeth; then sighs for a moment. Eventually, he declares, “It’s not their opinion. They don’t care.”

“So you do?”

“I wish I didn’t.”

You scoff. “And I wish I could take this in a good way.”

Imitating your sneaking irritation, he puffs out a breath, guiding you slowly. His feet lead you in gracious motions; and you must admit that despite the insolence that he never fails to rile you up with… your hand fits into his perfectly.

If it wasn’t for his nearly constantly demeaning expression, you could perhaps forget that he despises you.

And you him.

“You didn’t want to dance with me, did you?” you spit.

His eyebrows relax, his lips parting; his silence grants you utter satisfaction. You wonder which justification has materialised in his mind this time.

He doesn’t bark back anymore, instead claiming, “It’s not that I didn’t want to.”

“But,” you argue, “you’re obviously doing things right now, because you’re forcing yourself to all of it.”

Jungkook remains stubborn, opposing immediately, “No. Not at all. I’m enjoying the night.”

“You’re barely looking at me.”

“I didn’t know you’d want that.”

Fair.

You did conclude right from the beginning that this idea would end in a blind alley. But the thought of wasting your time still feels intolerable to you.

“Perhaps you’re right,” you tell him, “wouldn’t know what to say to you anyway.”

He grimaces, and his mood changes; a one-eighty turn from vexed to teasing like it’s nothing. “That’s not so kind,” he quips, “I honestly thought we were trying something here.”

“You were. Jungkook, you suggested all of this.”

Jaw hard, he looks away for a moment before he admits, “It’s not easy. All of this… the execution might be flawed, but I know no other way to hate you less.”

You don’t take his words to heart this time; in fact, you agree. Whispering, “I know.”

In a room filled with laughter, your bicker feels inappropriate. With the mood down and the atmosphere tense, neither of you will win tonight.

And you understand that he thinks the same, because in the next moment, he inhales and asks, “What did you do today?”

You pause. Blink. Sigh, and then hum.

Tell him, “I woke up. I read some of my book. Then I went for a walk, spontaneously crossed paths with a friend.” You think again, smacking your lips. “Got ready for tonight, and now I am here. Very unexpectedly dancing with Jeon Jungkook.”

Another sneering laugh falls out of him, and he nods, clarifying, “It’s not unexpected, is it? You knew we were coming here.”

You shrug your shoulders, unable to argue, and ask back, “What did you do today?”

“I was… hmm. I needed to attend something important with my brother,” he parts from you, turning you around your axis, “thoughts of what you might be wearing tonight.” His body leaves yours once more before his hands pull you back in. “Tried on some clothes, drank some whiskey to prepare for tonight. And now we’re here.”

Your insides burn.

The fire that spreads is ambiguous — you can’t quite say if you love or hate it.

But there is no time to dwell on it, no chance to ask about it; so you choose to ignore his comment about your dress, not least of all because you can barely imagine he means it in a pleasing way.

You ask, “You attend important businesses, too?”

He chuckles, eyebrows drawing close. “Did you think I merely go around town all day and watch the clouds float by?”

“I thought you’re stuck all the time.”

“Stuck?”

“In… someone.”

Another set of eyes rolling. God, you must be irritating him — almost as though he’s swallowing his own medicine, right?

The music just won’t end. You’ve been turning in circles for ages; your breath is turning stagnant by the minute. And this darn conversation knows no end, either.

“You really think highly of me. Very pleasant to know,” Jungkook says, his expression neutral.

Unresponsive, you only shake your head, looking through the sea of guests.

The rest of the couples surely look happier than the two of you by miles. Their enthusiasm dejects you a little; you wonder how high the chances are that his plan will succeed if you keep looking at each other like that.

But… you guess he keeps trying.

Like, when he says, “I meant to tell you that… you look gorgeous tonight.”

If anything between you came out of the blue, then this must be the most unforeseen surprise.

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you lean back, voicing a single, “Oh?”

You’re not able to add to it when you switch sides, grasping his other hand. And then, your bodies separate, apart from the hand you’re holding, stretching your fingers to the man next to you; adhering to the choreography.

His fingertips touch yours just briefly, and a fleeting moment later, you’re back in Jungkook’s arms. His shoulders feel firm and sturdy when you put your hand back on it.

You question, “Not like a fruit today? Or like I escaped a carnival? Or perhaps as though I broke out o—”

“No. No, you don’t,” he interrupts. “You never did.”

His hand moves further up your back.

Slowly, gently.

You don’t think he should be doing any of it in public, that his expression should shift as it just did. But he’s a mystery, and you still can’t shake the glooming feeling that he’s following a greater agenda.

You wish you could trust him easier.

“Why did you insult me then?” you ask.

“It’s… what my personality was made of.”

“That’s an excuse to you? It hasn’t been too long.”

He turns you in his grip, still stepping to the sound. Keeps executing the dance perfectly; your back nearly presses against his chest. You wonder how fast his heart is beating right now.

His hair tickles your cheek, and the heat of his breath skims your neck, “You meant something way worse to me than an enemy. Sometimes I hated you enough to feel closer to you than to anyone else.”

“I…”

“And I hated it. It didn’t feel good,” he whispers, turning you back to him. The warm hand between your shoulder blades pulls you a little closer; the music is still loud, but his touches are calculated and tender. “You were one of so few who hated me openly.”

He gulps; and then adds, “And the only one who did so without scarring me permanently.”

Wait… what is he talking about? And why is his voice so quiet, carrying this odd trace of ache?

“What does that mean?” you want to know.

He shakes his head so slightly you barely notice. “Abhorring you brought me back to reality sometimes. Because where my mind resides… isn’t quite,” he looks around, up to the ceiling, side to side to every guest, “in this realm.”

You try again, “Why are you talking like that?”

His scent is too intense now. His head is tilted, his eyes drunk, though his lips didn’t touch a single class yet tonight.

“Perhaps I should’ve told you that sooner,” he says.

“Then,” you’re breathing irregularly now. The music is calmer than before, so he has an excuse to nearly press your chest against his. “Why didn’t you? Why did you keep beating me up until I broke?”

And that’s when the peculiar haze in his glance dies again. He doesn’t answer; doesn’t know what to say.

You stare at him until you can barely breathe. Stare at his eyes, his nose, the dropping corners of his blooming lips.

Memories of a laughing crowd return. When they’d mock you until the earth spun too fast. When they’d surround you and nudge your shoulder, repeat the obscenities that he priorly whispered to them.

You wish that was all there is — but the voice in your mind keeps throwing warnings at you. That this is not all he has to offer. That he will hurt you, stomp on you, burn you alive.

And when the music dies, you finally break.

Out of the trance and out of his grip.

Your hand retreats from his immediately, and you pull away from him; as other couples bow just a little and grant each other promising smiles, you turn from him and walk away.

Out of the mansion and onto the porch.

You think you hear him calling your name, repeatedly.

You’re sure he understands that any sort of relationship between you is doomed. Because you might keep looking back to the past, holding onto the sting and the guilt.

But this time, even when his voice draws closer, you choose to look ahead.

Only ever ahead.

“I didn’t want to break you.”

You cross your arms over your chest, rubbing your skin; tonight's chill is more palpable now than when you arrived. Takes you back to the eventful night.

You don’t respond.

His steps and voice inch closer to you carefully. His movements are wary now, as though you could attack any moment. Little does he know that you’re already out of energy.

“I didn’t want to break you,” Jungkook repeats, and you move your head to the side, but don’t quite look at him. “But I justified it all by telling myself that I still had it worse.”

As Jungkook lost his father, you think he lost bits of his humanity, too.

It shows in the lack of empathy he had towards you as you grew up. In the way he’s aware of manners, but chooses not to stick to them. And right now, it shows in the way he absolutely doesn’t understand how emotions work.

You turn around, shaking your head in disbelief, “Pain is not one-sided. You will never be the only one to feel a certain thing. And no matter how bad you have it, no one deserves to be put in the same misery!”

“I know!” he exclaims, his voice echoing through the darkness, and you recoil. “I know that now. It’s part of the reason why I am here with you at all, because it’s the first time in my life that I’m seeing people as… people.”

“And why now? Why not earlier, why not later?”

Your heartbeat hastens when he moves even closer, not enough space between you; his scent returns, though it elicits something different now.

“I could’ve approached you earlier… or later. And you still would’ve asked me the same thing.”

You seal your lips once more.

He looks at you with a gaze so piercing that you feel the needles in your chest. He pokes holes into your lungs, robs your breath; his eyes are too apologetic, too sincere.

You wish you had a stronger armour.

Wish you didn’t give into his excuses so easily.

Because he’s right. Any moment in time is ideal to shatter someone; and just like that, any moment in time serves as an opportunity to turn life around.

He whispers, “I am trying to be better. And I am tired of this meaningless life.”

“But,” you try again, quieter this time, “why do you need me to be better?”

“I don’t need you for that,” he immediately explains, “but you’re the first I need to reconcile with.”

Reconciling is the wrong term. You cannot reconcile with someone who never used to be close to you in the first place.

Sometimes, you wonder whether you’re an item on his list; one that contains numerous tasks that will secure him a place in heaven. But then again…

Doesn’t everyone have one of those? Humility is rare; self-interest isn’t. You can’t even be mad.

“I know,” he mumbles, “that I called this a courtship. But… All I want is sympathy. You’re my biggest fiend for nothing, you shouldn’t be, and I…” His hand reaches out, but he doesn’t touch you yet. You focus on his fingers. “It wasn’t you who killed him, after all. Life did.”

You knew it.

Despite any pain you needed to bear in the past, your humanity never vanished. You can still read people; knew what his reasoning might have been.

You ball a hand to a fist. Blink to the ground, and then let your gaze travel over his body, up to his face. “I didn’t.”

“No… no, you just. You happened to be there that night… and maybe you shouldn’t have been.”

So if someone else had found him…

Maybe he could’ve ignited his hatred towards them. Perhaps you would’ve somehow, someway, learned to appreciate him as a friend; would’ve admired him from afar, as so many women you know do.

Or maybe you never would’ve bothered to be acquainted with him at all.

“You’re not a tool to make my mistakes undone.” His digits wander to yours, fingertips finally brushing your skin like a feather; opening your fist. “But if you could make me feel so much resentment without deserving it… maybe you can awaken some of the good feelings, too. And learn to see me as a friend, too.”

Your chest rises. Then falls. He follows the movement shamelessly, though you’re sure he doesn’t mean anything tasteless by it.

But you still feel the cold shiver snaking down your spine torturously slowly; feel the goosebumps he calls forth when his fingernail traces a line along your bare arm.

You hate that you feel that way. Hate that you can’t deny how tempting a peaceful future with him sounds. As his partner, his friend, his acquaintance — whatever may come out of this.

If he just didn’t look at you like that…

Like you’re actually someone who can affect his life when no one else could ever break his walls before.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask, stretching each word without intending to.

“I just,” he inhales, as though he’s breathing you in, “I need some time. And your patience. And in turn… I will practise restraint, too.”

That’s where his promise ends. He doesn’t elaborate on what he needs to restrain, or how much time he requires.

And you don’t ask; instead, you repeat, “You think I can awaken something good in you?”

His words merge with the whisper of the breeze, accompanied by a gentle nod and a light touch on your elbow, “And you’d deserve that affection, too.”

The room is dark but comforting. Brightens your mood; a stark contrast to the brilliant yet dispiriting hall you last danced with him in.

This afternoon, however, passes vastly differently from when Jungkook and you bickered throughout the dance, bringing up memories neither of you was ready to relive.

No.

There’s something about today that keeps the storm at bay.

Maybe the nature of your last conversation. The touches, the freedom you granted yourself. The fact that you’re hiding your irritation towards him, and letting his humanity seep through.

And it feels good.

“You’re not used to this, right?” you whisper, leaning close to him.

He presses his lips into a line, eyebrows drawing close, and asks just as quietly, “Why would you think so?”

“I thought you spent your time at prettier places. Lush, rich, loud.”

Your eyes move from him back to the kids on the tiny stage.

The girl sitting in the middle of it showcases a confident attitude, paper in a hand that hasn’t trembled a single time. The short story she’s narrating is supposedly a dream; an idea of how she wants her future to play out.

The children around here usually speak about the parents they never knew, or the life they had up until now; topics that are far too advanced, far too mature for kids like them.

But you assume that someone who’s seen hell, has persistently thought about heaven, too.

“No,” Jungkook responds, letting out a gentle laugh. He doesn’t roll his eyes this time, and the missing negative tension pleases you. “I think it’s very nice here. Something about the kids and the happiness that surrounds them…”

“Yes, I agree. The orphanage has an overwhelming number of gifted children. They know how to make the best of their days… even though they don’t have much in life.”

Jungkook nods. Lifts his hands to applaud with the rest of the crowd, flashing a smile at the bowing girl on the stage.

A break of a minute follows; the head of the orphanage appears with a radiant grin, fond of the monthly literature and poetry nights. He announces the next presenter, hands in tight, tiny, enthusiastic fists.

Jungkook asks, “How did you find out about this?”

“My father donates,” you explain, crossing your legs under your seat. “Money, clothes, books. He finds education very important, so he likes to foster literacy around here.”

“I see.”

You hum, smile fixated on the boy now fiddling with his paper. The several times you’ve seen him before were the exact same: he always wears a beret, a white shirt, short, brown pants, suspenders attached to them.

He clears his throat each time; dark, big eyes take in the audience before he flashes a sugary sweet smile.

And then, he begins.

He rattles down the poem in a perfect pace and intonation; maintains just the right amount of eye contact; establishes himself as a future, well-known poet that you envision him as.

Eventually, when he’s nearly done, you register a shifting body, hear a sigh from your side and wait until Jungkook says, “This is… beautiful.”

Your head immediately turns towards him.

Not that you forgot that Jungkook is human, too. But the new sentiment, the glassy eyes, the soft rhythm of his voice — you barely recognise him.

You catch yourself fast, deciding to overthink later, and state, “They’re more talented than you’d know. Look at him,” you nod towards the boy taking one deep breath, preparing for the ending of his piece, “he was seven years old when he wrote his first poems.”

“How old is he now?”

“Just twelve. He’s one of the best among them. Very cherished and admired.”

Perhaps you’re too enthusiastic, maybe a little too loud. Because in the next moment, one of the women in front of you turns her head wordlessly, expression frozen and judging. Your teeth dig lightly into your lower lip, and you apologise, chiming in with Jungkook’s quiet chuckle.

His voice even more hushed than before, he leans in further; his breath is hot against your ear. “Have you ever tried writing?”

You puff out a breath, shaking your head immediately, and answer, “Oh no. I just read. I admire literature, because crafting an entire story must be… difficult.”

“Must be.”

“For now I am satisfied with frequenting this place and listening.”

You’re glowing today. It’s the first thing Jungkook noticed when he saw you approaching outside, side by side with your chaperone who hasn’t acknowledged either of you even once.

Which is why neither of you are particularly fond of bringing an observer with you.

You told him just today how you convinced your parents at a young enough age to let you roam around alone. And Jungkook… no one ever really paid much attention to this detail.

But despite the lurking presence, you’re lost in your own world. A personification of joy and tenderness, calm as a still lake, fully in your element.

So he remarks, “You seem to be fond of them.”

“Hm?” you make, and then nod with twinkles in your irises. “I used to teach some of them once a week. I would come over and read with them.”

“That’s…” Incredibly kind. Admirable. Inspiring. All the good things and more, he thinks. “A good way to spend your time.”

The words fall out casually, another sentence in a harmless conversation.

But somehow, you think he looks sad. You wonder whether he feels like he wasted his time; like he could’ve engaged in bigger, better things. You can’t decipher his thoughts.

For all you know, his expression could mean nothing.

And it changes within a heartbeat again anyway.

“And you want kids someday, too?”

The question surprises you. It really shouldn’t. In an ongoing courtship, conversations about the future usually happen way sooner — they’re not abstract, not an abnormality.

But when they come out of Jeon Jungkook’s mouth, they sound unnatural, nearly surreal.

“Uhm… someday. No rush,” you answer, thumbs circling around each other. “Right now I need to experience a little more in life before I can allow myself to think about that.”

Your response doesn’t surprise him; in fact, he agrees, nodding along — a good sign. Yet, his curiosity shines through, and he asks, “Like what?”

“Like…”

You almost don’t say it. You’re not quite embarrassed — after all, your thoughts aren’t rare, more common than people talk about. But it feels strange. You didn’t think you’d ever utter such words to him.

You surprise each other with each second you spend in the other’s company.

“Like intimacy,” you finally tell him, “love. Heartbreak. Love again, but true, pure and final this time.”

You wonder if anyone is listening in. Then again, some have already left their seat to converse with someone else, or to go home, or to snatch the food on the faraway table.

The event must be over.

Jungkook’s voice is louder now, yet calm. There’s amusement in his eyes, laced with a slice of serious interest. He’s close to you. Both your hands are planted against the bench, forefingers only inches apart from each other.

The closeness is alluring, but not as much as his words, “You’re saying all that as if you’re expecting me to fulfil some of that.”

“I…” you stutter, looking away and to his knee. “You asked. And anyway — why would you think so?”

“I mean. Am I not courting you?”

The sarcasm dripping from his words is contagious, and so is his smile. His humour consists of jokes, you have realised; he’s not trying to be condescending. If you took everything personally with him, you’d have to do the same with everyone else, too.

You might be biased, but you can be fair as well.

“Then,” you join in, teasing with a light bump of your shoulder, “what are you ready to give out of all that? Not love, I presume.”

The famous smirk returns; easy to swoon anyone anywhere else. But the people around you don’t care about royalty, nor the nearly illicit touches between you.

Because when his grin widens, cocky and confident, and his finger reaches out to circle the back of your hand, no one notices but you.

And no one but you hears him say, “Just. If it’s not love, then you might want to use your fantasy. Then you’ll know.”

The single moment of hesitation is enough for him to understand your bewilderment; but then, you deliver yourself a mental punch, tearing your hand away from his touch.

You scrunch your nose, eyebrows rising, and say, “Disgusting.”

“So,” he begins under a laugh, “you haven’t experienced intimacy or love before?”

You’re still rubbing the skin of your hand as if he burned you, vocalising in thought until a distant face flickers in your head. You tell him, “Intimacy? I have.”

You say it quietly; you don’t think he’s the most trustworthy person around, and if he did tell anyone, your reputation as a lady might be doomed. But you don’t deem him as someone who blurts such secrets to the world.

You think, and perhaps even know, that when Jungkook hurts someone, he does it in his own different ways. Looking at him, you doubt his mentality fits the rest of the rumouring, cruel society.

Clearing your throat, you continue, “Love? I thought I did. But… love is harder than that.”

“That it is.”

“What about you?”

He looks at you like a puppy, sad and despondent. “Well…” he laughs breathily, just for a moment, “love is harder.”

And that’s where the conversation ends.

The dozen questions you need to ask don’t make it out, your confusion about his melancholy lingering.

Because suddenly, a handful of children run towards you giggling, speaking over each other, calling your name as a girl orders, “Let us braid your hair!”

You lean back, surprised, touching your locks, and tell her, “But I did my hair at home!”

“Come on, we will be careful and—”

Their words overlap once more, the boys behind them scolding to leave you alone, and others urging to ask you again. Perhaps it’s your pretty dresses that lure them in each time, or the kindness they’ve learned to admire in the past months and years.

But they’ll never fail to approach you at least once every time; a true light in the darkness.

You stop their fervent banter as you get to your feet, talking over them, “Alright! Make it pretty, though. Or I will make sure no one sees me during the ride home.”

You fall back on your seat, your grin bright as you look at Jungkook.

And the next hour, he feels, passes faster than the entire week did.

You’re different like this. Different from when he met you at soirees and gatherings, different from the night that brought you together and split you apart in the first place.

There’s a trace of guilt in his heart, because for all the mean years he spent tormenting you, he missed out on all the kindness your pure heart had to offer.

He sees it now.

In the way you speak to the people around you. The way you compliment and playfully scold the children. Your witty responses, the eagerness to entertain them and be entertained by them.

Refreshing.

And once they’re done and dancing on the stage, he can’t resist but fall back into his teases. Only softer this time.

He says things like, “Some of your hair is sticking out there.” Points to a random spot on your braid and adds, “And what’s that?”

“Don’t say that!” you defend. “They tried their best.”

And each time you ramble all your protective exclaims, he nods and says, “I know. You look really pretty.”

Near the end of the evening, a hand touches your braid. Brushes down to its tail, rubbing the tresses between his fingers.

You stay as still as a sculpture, perplexed by the sudden motion; but then break into a laugh when he brings the tail to your ear, tickling you shamelessly.

When you tickle him back, you don’t succeed, and he lets you know.

“Fine,” you say, “but I can still annoy you.”

He challenges, “Can you really?”

And you try; keep trying until he grabs your wrist, pulls you in. Kills your giggles, his eyes unfathomable, but his body suggesting something quiet to come. Beguilement perhaps.

You realise once again how differently today would’ve played out if you weren’t ready for a change.

It’s baffling how much a certain mindset can change, and how much it can affect every interaction in daily life.

Especially with people like him.

You think he’s losing himself in how you look at him; you’re not sure why. You don’t understand what you did, or where the sudden change in mood came from.

But then again, it vanishes as fast as it appeared.

The same children from before call your name, standing near the snacks and waving at you, and with a sigh of strange relief, you ask, “Food?”

All he does is nod.

“Good idea.”

“Will you let me hold your hand?”

The query comes entirely out of the blue, overshadowing the occasional neighing of the horses and the sounds of the rocky road.

You sway a little where you sit, hands in your lap. The carriage ride must have been going for ages now, and you don’t think either of you has said much in that time.

Except the random little statements about nature around you, vibrant and green, leading you to a soiree in the countryside that he spontaneously invited you to. Without chaperones at that.

You glance at his idle form in front of you, leaned back against the carriage seat. He has his cheek propped on his fist, looks as nonchalant as ever as he vocalises said query.

“Why would you want that?” you ask.

“To… feel a sliver of warmth in my terribly ill-lit life?”

You laugh quietly. Your eyes flicker back to the greenery outside, and you pull your feet back, telling him, “Stop joking.”

“But I—” He thinks for a moment, wondering how to phrase his next attempt. “I do think we’d look good together. Your hand in mine is the first thing royalty loving people might want to see, and… it’s the first thing that comes to mind when I think of you, too.”

He’s wrong. In fact, the act might cause a whisper here and there; for a fresh, yet to be established couple, it isn’t common to do such a thing publicly. But you don’t correct him just yet; you play along.

Because your stomach turns.

Jungkook is probably used to such flirtatious, suggestive remarks. He might not think of them too much, might not connect any particular emotion to it.

But to you, it does more than you’d dare yourself to allow.

Because it vexes you to admit that you’re starting to like him. No matter what your past held.

You love and hate that after numerous more promenades and events you attended together, your mind is slowly, surely pushing the pain away and giving way to a new relationship, to sunshine and rainbows.

Arguments are dying, fights almost forgotten.

You zero in on something else, still dodging his question, “First? What else?”

“What?”

“You said it’s the first thing that comes to mind. So if there is a first thing, there’s certainly a second, third, perhaps a last thing, too.”

He laughs, flashing another one of his lopsided grins. You don’t hate it as much anymore. “I’m not one to spill my secrets just like that.”

You hum, sit up, and urge, “Then… why don’t I guess?”

“I was going to suggest the same thing.”

You smile, conjuring up harmless ideas; knowing him, that’s probably not what he needs to hear, though.

“Then. You’d like to dance with me. Again,” you say.

“That is true.”

“We shall, later today then. Hmmm, what else?”

“I thought you were supposed to guess.”

“Right,” you confirm in a gentle giggle; you don’t quite notice when the sound of it makes his lips raise ever-so-slightly. “How about riding? Do you enjoy it?”

“Riding, I do. Does not involve horses, though,” Jungkook admits.

Vexation aside, you can’t suppress the childish titter that his playful words elicit. And when you speak again, it sounds merely half-serious, “You're such a crude.”

“I apologise. Continue.”

You shake your head, and then oblige, “You wish to spend more time with me… in carriages. Talking.”

“In carriages?” he wonders, raising an eyebrow at the detail. “I mean… I do like long distance carriage rides.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Until now… I didn’t either.”

Witty bastard. You’re sure that if he wrote a book on how to court a lady successfully, it’d hit the market with a bang. And get sold just as easily.

Short silence allows the both of you a soft smile. And then you speak again, “Did you mean that? The… riding thing.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to answer, “I’d be a liar if I said no.”

“Mhm…”

“And you’re beautiful. I’d be a fool not to mean it, too.”

You roll your eyes, vehemently averting his menacing eyes. They don’t always resemble a doe, you’ve realised. Sometimes, they’re drooping and dangerous.

But you’re not weak enough to spiral so easily.

You think.

“Do you say that to most women to charm them?” you ask.

“Just the daughters of Viscounts.”

“Right… then, would it be too much to ask…”

You barely know what you’re hinting at, but apparently, he understands. His tongue darts out to the corner of his lips, and he looks back to the horse and its rider. Flattens his waistcoat, clears his throat, glances back once more.

And when he’s eventually made up his mind, he changes his seat swiftly and elegantly, and suddenly, he’s right next to you.

Asking, “Tell me. Would it be? Too much?”

“Would it be? To ask what you imagine,” you finish your sentence.

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, hissing in thought before he teases, “It’d be too much indeed. It’s… A lot.”

“A lot, yes?”

“Would end up writing a book on it.”

“Then,” you say breathily, hidden in a flustered giggle. “Perhaps,” you dare, veins pumped with courage and adrenaline, “you could show me. Maybe it is easier.”

Brave. Bold. Unexpected.

The tension lingering between you for days was quiet so far — now that you’ve spoken it out, it suddenly feels… different. Hotter. And he, albeit surprised, doesn’t back away.

“Here, huh?” Your brazenness is affecting him. You see it in his eyes. Feel it in the air, know it from the way he moves closer. “You won’t let me hold your hand, but this is alright?”

You laugh, leaning in. Your shoulders touch, sparks crackling between you. Should you reach out to his thigh?

“Perhaps you can hold my hand afterwards. As a way to feign innocence,” you suggest. Your thoughts are blurred; so are your ideas.

“Shut up.”

And you do.

Because he’s the first to reach out to you.

His fingers, slow and careful, sneak to where your entangled digits rest. He grazes your skin, free of annoying gloves, pulls at your thumb just a little.

Movements stop, eyes gauging your reaction; and when you don’t refuse his touch, holding your breath in suspense, he continues.

He leads your hand away from your lap, letting it drop in the petite gap between your bodies. And then, he comes back to where your dress covers your thigh, barely touching the fabric as though to observe your response.

Your eyes dart up to his; his expression is one of a kind. Lips slightly parted, tongue sliding between his teeth, eyes digging into you with a harmless candle flame flickering behind them.

“What’s that?” you whisper.

His focus falls back to your dress, his body moving closer, “What’s what?”

“What… are you doing?”

“What you asked me to do.”

“I…”

“What?” he muses. “Were you joking?”

No. It’s strange to admit, but you weren’t.

Your torso leans into him automatically when his forefinger runs along your leg, up to your pelvis. You press your thighs together tighter, and you guess that’s what snaps something inside him once and for all.

His breathing comes out broken, and he halts for a moment before he orders, “Come closer.”

“What?”

“Closer,” he repeats, basking in your gasp when his grip settles on your thigh, pulling you to him. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

What have you done?

Asking for such a wicked thing; more than your fragile soul can possibly bear. He’s inescapable danger, a path to ruin — what if you lose your entire mind to him before you even arrive at your destination?

“What are you gonna do?” you ask him, though you can’t resist his pull.

Jungkook’s head falls to the side just a little, one eyebrow cocking and teeth worrying his tinted lower lip. He breathes in through his nose, and then warns, “Will you stop asking so many questions?”

And then, without a single warning, his arm priorly skimming your dress wraps around your waist. You let out a tiny yelp, and a moment later, you find yourself half on his lap, swinging dangerously.

But in his hold, you’re sure you’re not going anywhere.

“Closer now,” he repeats once more, and this time, you oblige.

You shift in his lap, making yourself comfortable on your seat; not given a generous amount of time before his fingers return home.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know?” You have, too. “Just,” he purrs against the shell of your ear, “want to see how much we can get out of you. Just like that.”

Just like that?

A question floats through your mind, soon to be extinguished when a strong hand parts your legs and moves up. He palms your hot, clothed cunt wordlessly, never preparing you for anything; you choke, eyes squinting shut.

And then, said palm begins to move.

Slowly at first, accompanied by sudden burning kisses along your neck.

He’s never kissed you before.

His lips feel inviting. Hot. Too good.

A quiet voice whispers, “How’s that?”

And you, losing yourself gradually, answer, “Here,” you bring two of his fingers to where your nub aches for him, moving it in a miniscule circle, “touch me here.”

“Like th—”

He swallows the last word when your hips move on his lap; what grows underneath you robs your breath, poking between the cheeks of your ass. You tilt your head for him to kiss you deeper.

“Fuck,” he curses. His unoccupied hand immediately shuts your sudden cry as he bites into your shoulder, pressing harder against your clit. “You’re even worse than me.”

Along with the waves of pleasure, pride crashes against the shore, too; you don’t like a one-sided game.

What did he expect from you?

His bulge soon rock hard, you rub your butt against it in a delicious rhythm. Every now and then, your focus falters, wiggling when his fingers move around your pussy particularly well.

You never thought you’d ever let Jeon Jungkook dig his fingers into your entrance over two layers of clothing.

Or that you’d ever voluntarily enter the same carriage as him at all.

This is either a heavenly dream or a neverending nightmare.

He ruts his hips against you, seeking relief; his eyes only flash open when you tease, “You’re pretty desperate… aren’t you?”

And that’s when another nearly silent groan breaks against your skin. Just as quickly as he tugged you onto him, he’s swirling you around, as carefully as the congested space allows.

He pushes your back against the inner wall of the carriage, his body following. Your mouth drops open when his lips attach to your neck again, sucking harder now, the pace and force nearly bruising.

Knee hoisted up on the seat, he pushes it between your parted legs, allowing at least a hint of reprieve as he busies his hands with something else now.

Impatient fingers hold the nape of your neck, lips kissing a trail to the mounds of your breasts. You sigh, wishing he could swallow you whole, a carve between your eyebrows as he says, “So what if I am? I mean, you… You have never been so…” He places a wet kiss near your cleavage. “Breathtaking.”

God, you ache to reach out to the growing bulge.

You ache to kiss his lips; his everything.

But when the wish threatens to burst out, the coachman, hopefully oblivious, yells back, “We’re arriving shortly!”

Arriving.

Right.

You’re going somewhere. You nearly forgot about time and space.

And all this began with a conversation about hand-holding and horses, didn’t it?

Jungkook’s eyes slowly lift to yours. The warmth of his fingers returns to your face. He looks at you deeply, carefully, breathlessly. Mutters a little, “Shit,” persisting on not backing away.

His mouth is close enough for you to stop your heartbeat; your cheeks are heated beneath his touch.

And then, reality dawns on you.

It’s perilous, the proximity when you’ll probably be passing other carriages very soon. Come to a halt among a crowd of guests, in front of whatever house he’s brought you to.

Society is close — so you break the tension, and joke, “Hide whatever grew in your pants.”

His laugh is sudden, sweet. It differs from the desire that previously bloomed in his eyes, now playful and casual as he promises, “Later. We’ll continue later.”

You use the last two minutes to tidy yourself up as much as possible. Fortunately, Jungkook didn’t dishevel your hair, so you should be good to go.

As you arrive, stepping out, the first thing you notice is that this is not a house. This is an unaffordable luxury. Trees and flowers burgeon everywhere, like a big, blossoming garden. A breathtaking scent, lovely and inviting.

The sky is azure blue, brighter here than in the city, and the heat of the sun isn’t as stinging due to the gentle gust.

But the people? Same old news.

The initial process passes fast. Various things that you expected; various things you brush off fast.

Like, the overexaggerated kindness and enthusiasm of the stranger hostess. Or the loud laugh and slightly inappropriate comments of her husband.

The side-eyes some throw at you, as if you’re the only new face around here. Or perhaps, you are, you wouldn’t know.

And the silent judgement of one of Jungkook’s acquaintance’s eyes, one you do not know, verbalising the strange statement, “Every other woman before wasn’t good enough, was she?”

To this day, you don’t understand the malicious nature of some people. Why they hide their insecurities behind a presumptuous mask, throwing insults straight to your face just upon arriving.

You want to snap back, but before you’ve uttered a single word, Jungkook defends, “Well, I for one am glad no one was.”

Suppressing the smile proves harder than you thought; and when you’re looking at him again, you bet you’re radiating brighter than the sun hanging in the sky.

You register only faintly when the woman laughs, as though he’s cracked a joke, wishes you fun at the fete, nods kindly and walks away.

Ambiguous little snakes.

But who could focus on split tongues and slit-formed pupils when a way brighter charm is standing right next to you? Shaking his head in frustration, rolling his eyes at people’s audacity.

Angry for you; defending you.

Funny, because he used to be the same.

Perhaps he really is trying to change.

You move closer, smile, and breathe, “Jungkook?”

“Yes.”

Who cares what society thinks?

“It’d be okay to hold my hand now.”

You hold his gaze carefully, possibly doting; when he smiles, crinkles appear around his eyes. He fits your palm in his, nods just a little, and then says, “Pleasure, princess.”

Walking deeper into the hall feels different this time.

The carriage’s mood and the touch of his hand elevate your senses, your heart a blissful mess despite the stupidity of the guests outside.

You catch your lower lip between your teeth, because this event is a lot more high-spirited than any other you’ve ever attended before.

“Who was the host?” you ask as you come to a stand; your hand moves to his elbow, just for elegance’s sake, and you point across the room to the man who greeted you.

“It’s one of my uncle’s friends. He’s an Earl,” he explains, leaning to your ear, “they have a son with the name Namjoon who married another rich lady from high society, and that’s why they’re able to live in such luxury.”

Makes sense.

The last ball you went to was hosted by an always-invisible Marquess, so the amount of diamonds hanging from the chandelier tonight shouldn’t surprise you after all.

You don’t think you know too many faces around here. Considering that you rode out to the countryside, a fair distance from your home, you don’t expect to recognise anyone, either. Except perhaps two or three souls floating around, nodding towards you as they pass you by.

The slight hint of familiarity relieves you, but even in its absence, you would’ve been immensely grateful that Jungkook brought you here. To introduce you to the relevant fellowship of the family must be the highest honour, right?

As your gaze wanders from a row of candelabras to the dancing crowd, and then back to Jungkook’s smile, he compliments, “I think I prefer this dress to the one last time. Suits you even better.”

“It very much felt like you wanted to rip it off me just minutes ago,” you jest, nudging his sides, “but thank you.”

“Well I can appreciate the dress and want it… not on you. Right?”

The rapture pools in your lower belly and tickles you; you attempt your hardest to not let the treacherous sigh topple out of your mouth.

“I assume that makes sense,” you say.

“I’ll like any dress on you as long as you don’t wear one of those… those with arched bottoms. I don’t even have a name for them.”

You roll your eyes, groaning just a little, “Don’t remind me. They’re like tents for butts.”

Jungkook chuckles, bringing his hands together to slap with his snicker. And when the two of you have calmed down again and wiped the tears of your very personal joy, he asks, “How do you like it?”

Your gleaming grin is contagious, and Jungkook can’t deny his joy when you exclaim under your breath, “It’s beautiful!”

“Right? Each time there’s something new,” he explains, open palm gesturing to an artwork near the snack table. “Like this glass sculpture.”

You nod towards it, though it’s impossible to miss. “That one?”

“Wasn’t there last time.”

“They like to make their nights memorable, it seems.”

A hum vibrates in Jungkook’s chest, unspoken compliments stuck in his throat as he, instead, subtly hints, “I think, for me, tonight will be the most memorable.”

Caterpillars previously crawling through your stomach, filling you with utmost hate and displeasure, flutter as butterflies across your torso now. Whatever confessions would have riled you up not long ago, are now desired. Your heart craves them.

Perhaps you’re weak and naive after all.

“...Really?” you mumble.

Jungkook smiles with his eyes, too, you noticed. The crinkles at the corners of them, the night sky inside them, the joy around them. His nose sometimes scrunches in the most devastating honey-sweet way; his lower lip is tilted.

An everlasting, unique beam.

It was all there before.

Only now, you know to appreciate it.

His body shifts to yours almost unnoticeably, shoulders barely touching. The picture of the two of you standing there is the exact same as last time, but whatever is blooming with you makes the crucial difference.

“Really,” he confirms.

“You’re… quite enticing.”

You’re joking, but then again, you’re not. You’re trying to elicit a reaction out of him, delighted when he obliges just right, “Am I? Can’t we just…” He sighs, looking around. “Go back to the carriage?”

“Oh, I’d be more than ready to, but society i—”

Mid-sentence, a movement catches your attention. A joyful, familiar face rushes to Jungkook, and you immediately recognise him as Jeon Junghyun — future heir, widely admired, brother to the black sheep.

He nods towards you, your eyes twinkling; you’ve heard nothing but delightful stories about him, so it’s a pleasure to see him after such a long time again.

But he doesn’t regard you much longer before he’s rambling about taxes and random names, urging Jungkook to follow him to introduce him to what’s-her-name.

“It can’t wait?” Jungkook asks, regarding you with an apologetic look.

“The quicker, the better.”

You place a hand on his arm, assuring, “Go. I will be here and waiting. Lords can’t escape duty, after all.”

His lips curl to another sorry smile, and a moment later, he gives in, letting his brother tug him to a small circle of top notch people that you can’t assign names to.

For a minute, you watch as he mingles with the crowd, effortlessly fitting in. He doesn’t think too high of royalty or the tasks that surround it, but he still knows how to behave when he’s thrown and forced into such a situation.

You think he admires you, but he’s not that low of a personality eith—

“Oh, it’s you!” someone says to you. You turn to a face you noticed earlier, from the city, someone who frequents parties as much as you. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

You remember his name to be Byun.

He isn’t anyhow close to you. His mother, a past friend of your own, introduced him to you years ago; as far as you recall, he is easy to converse with, but you don’t think either of you approached the other much after that.

“I did not think I would see you here, either,” you remark.

You sharply hope he doesn’t ask you to dance. You remember your mother telling you that you should never reject a gentleman when he asks for one; or else, you won’t be permitted to do so with anyone that night at all.

And you desperately need a round of harmonious swaying with Jungkook tonight.

But despite the sickeningly sweet smile, Byun doesn’t broach that subject, instead nodding towards Jungkook’s laughing body and remarking, “I didn’t know you two met?”

You know why your mother broke off her friendship with his. You recall her complaints about how that woman had no manners, never asking for anyone’s wellbeing, not interested in small talk as long as it benefitted her.

You reckon her son is similar, because as he skips formalities and jumps straight to your company tonight, you internally cringe.

Smacking your lips, you hope he doesn’t prod, and simply tell him, “We’re becoming… friends.”

“That’s good,” he praises, nodding, “Oh, I… I am not trying to court you, I need you to know that. I just needed to at least ask if he’s treating you right.”

And again, you remember that you do not share a bond with him whatsoever. So you’re suspicious about his sudden curiosity, confused as you question, “Why are you asking that?”

His answer comes immediately; he shrugs with a glass of champagne in his hand. “Because he has… a reputation.”

And you’re quick to say, “He’s not that horrible.”

“I do hope that. I’ve heard he’s not very fond of relationships or affection. My friends call him The Fluke Duke.”

You scoff. Funny, because Jungkook isn’t a Duke at all.

One look at him makes you feel bad immediately. He’s currently staring through the room, drinking nothing much but a glass of water, but for a very brief moment, as though he felt your gaze on him, his eyes meet yours.

You catch a tender smile, but when he spots the stranger conversing with you, his eyes narrow for just a moment. Relaxing when you give him a little wave.

You tell Byun, “That’s incredibly mean. He’s not so bad, I promise… Sometimes you just need to give people a chance.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. Not that you could care — you didn’t come to defend Jungkook all night.

“Sure,” Byun says, “I was solely wondering, because — and don’t take this as an offence — I’m aware that you’re a big man’s daughter. But someone like a Lord usually courts someone of his kind. Or at least announces the courtship in a more respectable way.”

Respectable?

You know he doesn’t mean bad, but the choice of his words doesn’t particularly please you.

You breathe in; patience is a virtue. “Well, Jungkook… he tends to be careful. He won’t court me and have all eyes of society shame us, should it not work out.”

“Not bad. Quite smart.”

The music chiming until now fades, and with it, your chat dies, too. You don’t respond, averting your eyes from him, and when he’s realised that you’re done with him, he raises his glass and says, “To the both of you.”

Slowly, a hand in his pocket, he walks away when Jungkook steps back to you.

A woman in tow, he finishes his dialogue with her; you don’t know whether you’re imagining the glitter in her eyes, but you do know that her hand on his shoulder is happening.

So is the gorgeous smile.

And once she’s bid her goodbyes, you cock an eyebrow, stupidly half jealous, half fooling around, and ask, “A lady winning your heart?”

His eyes raised to yours, his initial smile drops, as though you’ve suggested something profoundly heinous. He blinks, and then responds, “Absolutely not.”

“But why not?” you continue, fallen back into a good mood in Jungkook’s proximity, playful bicker on your mind. “You’re handsome, aren’t you? A catch for sure.”

You think that’s what your relationship has become. That you can banter about such things, even if just for fun; just two days ago he did the same at a picnic.

But you guess he did it in a wittier way; your suggestions, he doesn’t seem to enjoy.

And he hesitates in irritation, overwhelmed by your sudden, odd inquiry. You must say, even for someone as unashamed as you, this came out of nowhere, and you definitely could have cracked a better joke.

Looking closely, you see him clench his jaw, warning through obviously gritted teeth, “Don’t say such things.”

“Oh, I…” you pause, gulping. Was that so bad? “I didn’t mean it. I was just joking that anyone would want you, and—”

Shut up. Shut up. Just…

Your gaze drops to your shoes, and you mumble something under your breath, eyebrows lifted. You fold your fingers, eyes big, intended on asking him what the hell you did before your breath hitches.

He doesn’t give you a single moment to prepare for the sudden pull, fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugging you into an unknown direction.

You wonder whether he’s aware that someone might be watching. But you can’t really see his face, trudging along behind him; not aware of his quiet anger until you’ve climbed the staircase and entered an empty room in a lonely hallway.

The door locks behind you, and he cards his fingers through his hair, sarcastically chuckling before he tells you, “That was humiliating.”

You’re baffled. “W… wait, what?”

“It was humiliating, because we were done discussing business and I was just telling her that we might go further than whatever we’re doing now. That we’re very friendly with each other. So it was embarrassing that you’d say such a thing and bash my loyalty.”

You think he is overreacting. No one even heard what you said.

But something in you tells you that his agitation doesn’t quite derive from whatever you did down there.

“Other than that,” he adds, “she is a childhood friend. Like a sister.”

You watch his finger gesture around, the other hand on his hip, and you say, “I’m sorry, I… didn’t mean to do that. In fact,” your voice grows louder when he laughs, “I was even telling Byun how pleasant of a company you are.”

“Were you now? To Byun, yes?”

“I was. I know him from town, so feel free to ask him anytime, if you’d like. But th—”

“I don’t need to. But my reputation is already dead, and I don’t want it to be tainted in your eyes, too. And…” He pauses, suddenly calm. He licks his lips, his gaze pungent. “Do you know what truly irritated me?”

You don’t answer.

A moment later, he confesses, “I was talking to her… and she was suggesting all those women in the room. To her defence, she didn’t know I’m here with you, but she was pointing to half a dozen girls, listing their traits.”

You don’t know where this is going; not an idea why this irritates him. He just couldn’t care, right?

But you keep listening.

“And then I… I realised that the time for finding comfort in other women is truly over. I just wanted you as a friend, but…” He moves closer slowly. Fingertips on your arm again, lips close to your cheek. “Watching someone stand so close to you… I told myself it doesn’t bother me, but it does.”

“Is that… is that why we’re here now? I haven’t done anything, have I?” you ask carefully, confused when he shakes his head in frustration. “I mean, I— you reacted too much. Jealousy is why we’re he—”

“No. You being you… me wanting, craving you all the damn time. Me finally realising it. That’s why I’m furious… It enrages me.”

Pause.

You fall silent; and so does your heartbeat.

His voice trembles a bit, the gulp audible. “More than anything.”

And... that’s it. The point of no return.

Maybe that’s when all of you breaks.

Or when it was supposed to break.

The tension gathered in the last days, exchanged through distance and every moment without each other, through telling glances and subtle touches… it catches up with you, gathers on your lips and unleashes when you push yourself forwards.

He whispers your name, and you mutter back, “Jungkook…”

And then, your mouth falls on his with vigour.

Hands bury in his hair, back arching; he swallows your gasps, your taste, your sweetness.

The reciprocation happens without a moment of delay; your body beseeches him to come closer.

The kiss never allows a gentle second. Before you know it, you’re drunk on his tongue, stumbling backwards until your bottom hits a wooden table.

You hate the transformation that occurred within those few days. Hate how his hands cup your face; fingers then shifting to hold your chin; then, a palm against your back like he’s treasuring you.

Lips on your neck. Breaths against your veins. Teeth on your shoulders.

God, you despise him now more than ever. Hate that he’s so difficult to truly detest, despite his irksome flaws and incorrigible nature.

Especially when he breathes against your goosebumps like this, mouth ghosting over the mounds of your breasts. Toying with your dress.

He whispers, “My God, you enrage me… yet I need you near me all the time.”

A swift movement, and he’s turned you around. He must be scarring your skin with the way he plants kisses on the juncture connecting your neck and shoulder.

His digits journey down your back, fumbling with the sleeves of your dress. Unabashed, he pushes them your shoulder, all the way down over your breasts, revealing the corset that truly makes it hard to breathe right now.

He fiddles with the strings of it, loosening the knot, and says, “I hate those fucking things.”

You too. Now more than ever.

He allows some space to breathe, but never really opens your corset fully; it dangles half closed around your torso.

Gentle touches skim the skin between your shoulder blades, kisses abundant wherever he’s able to reach. And once he needs more, he brings a seeking hand to the front, engulfing one of your breasts firmly.

You reach back, touching his cheek and his hair, cutting yourself on the jawline before his free hand grasps your wrist and pins it against your back.

“God, your scent is driving me crazy,” he confesses, nose brushing along your cheek.

And all you manage to respond with is a weak, “Touch me.”

“Where?”

”Anywhere.”

His words turn into a salacious whisper, promising you, “I am.”

You shake your head, biting your lip, stifling a moan. And when he lets you go, his touches easing, you claim, “I want more.”

“Figured you did. After what happened earlier—”

“You were cruel to stop there.”

He leans down, chuckling against your back, and you shiver as he asks, “So what? I couldn’t bend you over in the carriage, could I?”

A response sits patiently in the forefront of your mind, temporarily shut down when he lifts the hem of your dress and exposes your legs.

His face keeps shifting downwards; your mind conjures an idea of what he might be doing, but the anticipation is still killing you.

Neverending, not even when he pushes the dress further up, frees you of your undergarment and shoves your torso down onto the table. His hot breath fans your increasing wetness, and you nearly feel shy about your bare lower parts.

But then you remember that you’ve never been timid in his presence; and you won’t start now either.

Though him being in charge isn’t such a bad thing.

He asks, “How does that feel?”

That is nothing more but the still seething breathing against your cunt. So you lift your lips to a smile, your voice mocking as you admit, “It feels like you’re teasing me.”

But his words carry a tinge of confidence, cocky when he deduces, “But I think that’s what you like. Slow and careful… and to prolong the pleasure until you can’t take it anymore. You like that I’m controlling it, right?”

“I… hate you,” is all you can bring up.

“No…” Two fingers suddenly dip between your folds, never inside, “try again.”

The gentle touch nearly makes your body jolt forward. You didn’t expect it so soon, didn’t know it could feel so good without any piece of clothing between him and you.

He rubs slowly, up and down, testing your dampness. Your arms reach forward, clutching the top end of the conveniently empty table; the wood feels cool against your cheek.

Your eyes shut, butt lifting, turning in tight circles as he moves his fingers in geometrical patterns.

And then, his fingers disappear, his panting drawing closer and—

Suddenly, the tip of his tongue plunges in; and you cry out.

A semi-harsh slap lands on your ass, and remains there, squeezing almost painfully. A thousand sensations rush through your veins, and you can’t muster anything more than a stifled, broken moan.

His tongue retreats, and he asks, “Do you still hate me?”

“If hating you… makes you do such things,” you breathe; you’re not sure if he can hear you, “then yes.”

When his lips close in again, only touching your folds, you feel a laugh vibrate against your skin. The feeling of it makes your knees tremble, but his hands push your body up, allowing him to dive deeper.

You realise immediately that he’s experienced, and far more than you at that.

Because he isn’t harsh with your body; or at least not yet. He doesn’t thrust his tongue into you like a maniac, not biting you in his haze.

No.

He moves his wet muscle in figure eights, lapping up your juices with lewd kisses. He moves back once to spit on your cunt, and then comes back to wrap his mouth around your sex, flicking his tongue over your clit occasionally.

God.

Holy fuck; how could you miss out on all that for so long? Just because of some stupid fight?

You can’t move; you can’t form a thought. The ardent sensation kills all of them.

You attempt to reach back to him again, cursing under your breath — but he doesn’t quite want to allow you that touch for now. Snatches your wrist, pins it against the small of your back once again like it’s a habit.

“Hold on a little more,” he whispers when he pulls back for a moment, out of breath. “Just a little more. I need to…”

He pauses, lets the rest of the sentence dangle.

Comes back to your dripping pussy; but this time, it’s not all he delivers. He lets your hand go, fingers suddenly at your entrance; and without a word, he pushes two of them in to his knuckles.

You scream out, but immediately bite your lip, worried someone might hear your forbidden affair.

His digits turn and curl, shoving into you carefully and repeatedly; his tongue never leaves, drinking all of you in. Your sounds make his eyes roll into his head, mingling with his own moans and craze.

He tilts his head, lips buried in and kissing you feverishly; tasting you thoroughly. You’re slowly losing your mind; his hums are too low in your pussy, the smack of his lips too outrageous.

And an embarrassingly short while later, you’re breaking.

Breaking hard and with passion, with shaking legs and unintelligible words.

His touch rotates over your clit, his hands shooting up to hold your ass, so you don’t fall. Your reactions are as seductive as they can get; they make his lower parts ache.

And once he’s parted from you again, he finally concludes, “I needed to finish what we started before. Desperately.”

Sure. He can keep talking if he’d like. You barely register anything.

“Yes,” you only say, catching yourself, stopping the spinning of your head.

Rushing, he gets to his feet, capturing a handful of your butt once more as he angles his body. His clothed member presses against you, rubbing dryly between your ass cheeks, and his lips roam over your head, lowering to your earlobe.

“You sounded so pretty, falling apart like that,” he whispers, kissing your jaw as his hand moves to your chin, “just how I fucking thought you would.”

“Jungkook, I wa—”

Your wish remains unfinished — because the touch around your chin vanishes, instead reappearing around your mouth when he digs a thumb and ring finger into your cheeks.

He parts your lips, forcing them open, and asks, “A taste?”

Despite his beastly nature, he utters his ask for permission tenderly, and your body quivers at the uncommon decency.

You stick out your tongue, registering his fleeting groan, and suck his digits in when he places them inside. Steady movements of your head force an idea into his head, and his breathing falls irregular, his head dizzy.

His grunts are low and inviting; fuck, you want him to split you asunder.

You’ve barely licked all of you off his fingers when he pulls you up, turns you around and faces you with raging flames in his eyes.

Your lips collide again, breaths leaving through your noses. Your body tenses, pliant under his touch; tingling where his fingers land.

He doesn’t know how much you craved his taste. Doesn’t know that you’d lie on your bed staring at the ceiling, hands under your blanket doing what he hadn’t done yet.

Closing your eyes, imagining his mouth on yours. And in reality, the feeling is so much sweeter, lovelier, prettier.

Not what you imagined, but more.

And there’s so much that was missing in your fantasies.

Like, how he wraps a palm around your neck now, pushing in ever-so-slightly. Your head tilts when his does, the kiss deep, his tongue hot and skilled; you taste yourself on it again.

Jungkook holds you in place, ridiculously tight… as if you would ever make the mistake of walking away now.

The unspoken words and the burgeoning insanity have you under a firm grip, and even if he stepped back now, you wouldn’t move by a hair’s breadth.

And yet, you push him from you when his kisses continue on your jaw and your neck. The corset is slipping off, possibly flashing your breasts; and you want him to touch you there, you do.

But the anticipated fondling can wait; you’re salivating too much.

So you gaze into his confused face as you push at his chest; he’s probably wondering if he hurt you anyhow. But you surprise him when you entangle your fingers with his, eyes never leaving his as you slowly, carefully, drop to your knees.

The shock in Jungkook’s face is priceless.

“You… you don’t have to,” he says.

You move your head left and right, “I know.”

“Honestly, just because I—”

“Shut up,” you command, toying with his breeches before you pull them down to his knees. “I’m doing it, because I want to. I’ve been wanting it…”

“Oh… you…”

Undergarments follow; and what awaits you underneath is far more generous than what you expected. And definitely ten times harder than you foresaw.

Pre-cum trickles out of his member’s head, and you wrap a hand around the girth before it can slap back against his stomach, tainting his grey waistcoat.

He winces at the touch, hissing when you move. Fuck, his responses have you reeling; boosting your confidence until you can’t hide your smirk. You continue your ministrations, still high from your own release, but twisting and moving your wrist perfectly.

And when you see his thighs tense, his eyes closing, you lean in and lick his tip for just a moment. A soft swirl of your tongue around his head, collecting the leaking liquid, has him hissing.

The action repeats, over and over again, delicately and diligently, and you revel in his groans. He whispers your name in a manner so filthy that it alone urges you to take him in deeper.

And the way his hips move an inch, longing to thrust into your mouth is both amusing and breathtaking at once.

“Fuck, darling,” he mumbles, and you lift your gaze to his open mouth. If he didn’t control himself, he’d be drooling, you think. “A bit more.”

And you gratify his request.

Breathing through your nose, mustering strength and shoving him in until you gag. His cock is heavy on your tongue. Hot and thick, too much to fit him all in. It twitches in your mouth, releasing pre-cum into your throat repeatedly.

And God, you’re relishing every damn moment.

You nod with his length inside, humming and moaning, and he says, “And I was worried you’d… you’d punch me if I kissed you.”

Goddamn.

You ignore him.

You ignore that he imagined kissing you, that he overthought your reaction, that you were and are one of his daily thoughts at all.

Rather, you focus on not faltering, on keeping your pace, making him break as much as he shattered you. The aftereffect still lingers, your pussy aching and pulsating. Or perhaps, it’s happening again.

Perhaps you’re just yearning for more.

And with the thought pulling at the strings of patience, you swallow around him harder, hollowing your cheeks, fingers wandering to the end of his shaft and then to his balls. They’re firm and full, but you want them empty; released wherever he desires to.

“Didn’t think you’re so good,” Jungkook says, probably more to himself than to you. His speech is blurred. “My God, you’re…”

“Hmmm,” is all you do with your mouth stuffed to the brim; but when you release his cock with a pop, you ask breathlessly, “you sound tormented.”

“Yes, that’s a good alternative to absolutely dying to tear you apart,” he growls through gritted teeth, “more. Keep going.”

“Yes, sir.”

Which only spurs him on further; he fists his cock for a second, pumping, taps it against your tongue when you stick it out, and then pushes in once more.

“Ohhh, you’re the devil,” Jungkook breathes, laughing shakily as he watches his dick disappear in your mouth bit by bit. “I want to do something, but…”

“Mh?” you make again, coating him in more of your saliva.

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

You shake your head, closing your eyes. Pleased when his warm palm comes down to your face, caressing your cheek. He knows he must not mess up your hair tonight, so his digits float back to the nape of your neck again.

And you understand exactly what he desires when he says, “Nod just once if it is alright for me to…”

You do. You do so with utter keenness.

He says, “Pinch my thigh if you need me to stop.”

You nod once more.

And a moment later, his finger wrap around the back of your neck tighter, planting his feet firmly against the ground before—

His body falls a tiny bit forward when he rams his cock inside you; not stopping there, but repeating the action. Over and over again, relentlessly. His hips work with barely any remorse, his hand keeping your head in its spot.

He looks down to you, dark hair strands covering his eyes. The muscles of this face are tense, his jaw clenched, the puffed breaths unsteady and hectic.

“Shit… that mouth does a lot more than talk shit.”

All manners gone, his words become crude, provoking a reaction out of you. But you’re nearly immobile, moving according to the orders of the puppeteer above you; only gaining back control when he finally lets you breathe.

And that’s when you ready yourself for retribution, revenging your sore throat. You shift on your knees, ignoring the pain on them inflicted by the ground, and suck in one heavy breath before you unleash your true beast on him.

Jungkook stumbles again, speechless in surprise; judging the hardness of his balls, you know he won’t last much longer.

And you’re right.

He protests almost immediately, telling you, “Don’t… I want to—”

You don’t know what he wants. You keep going.

And perhaps you’d actually stop if his body didn’t beg otherwise. If he truly snapped at you, told you to back away, you would.

But you know he won’t.

Because his hips still shoot towards you, soon giving up, muttering, “Fuck, you are a brat, aren’t you? Of course you would never listen to me.”

You understand only every other word. He doesn’t allow much peace to your mind, slamming in, loving the saliva dripping from your chin.

And just a minute later, he’s emptied himself inside you, rope by rope, a salty taste and muffled moans.

Surreal. How did you go from absolute hate to… this?

Surreal.

The moment stretches endlessly; his movements are sudden, arhythmic.

It takes him a full minute to recover, though his panting suggested that he would never find his way back to reality again. But once you’ve processed his taste and he’s calmed down, a helping hand falls in front of your face.

As your palm touches his, he lifts you to your feet; an arm wraps around you and he pulls you in, still shaking, his gaze intense. A smile plays around his lips, affectionate and tender, and he says, “That was not what I had planned.”

“I apologise. It was hard to resist.”

“That I saw,” he chuckles, folding his fingers behind your back, “but I am in no position to complain. You looked gorgeous like that.”

“Did I, now?”

“A beautiful view, indeed.” His face nears yours, angling to the side. Lips stop with a tiny gap’s distance from your own mouth, and he promises, “Next time, I want more than that, though. And I won’t give up then.”

“I won’t be in a position to complain either,” you utter, joining his laugh, caressing his hair.

“Well, you’ll be in a vastly different position altoge—”

You flinch when a firm knock sounds against the door. The colourful illusion broken, you land back in the dark room, immediately parting and fumbling with your clothes. Jungkook pulls his pants up, the door catching his attention, and then you.

“Turn around,” he tells you quickly, doing his best at the corset’s knot. He looks to and fro for a little longer, and when the knock chimes once more, Jungkook whispers to you, “More wasn’t supposed to happen tonight anyway, huh?”

You stifle a laugh, backing away. He runs his fingers through his hair, hurrying to the window, checking his reflection until he’s satisfied with himself.

And then, he steps to you and tells you, “Two minutes. Leave a little after me, yes?”

You nod, and he imitates, fixing your hair and grabbing your face in his hands to press one last kiss on your mouth.

Then, he moves away. You scan the room, finding some darkness to hide behind.

When Jungkook clutches the handle of the door, he looks back at you once more; he can’t see you in the shadows, but he still smiles, takes a breath and then steps out.

You don’t catch a glimpse of the person outside, but you hear the man asking what the hell Jungkook was doing in there. He utters a senseless excuse back, and a moment later, the room falls silent.

Everything stops as fast as it began.

Hidden between furniture, your breathing doesn’t steady for the following couple minutes. You hold a still shaky hand to your heart, chuckling, unable to fathom a thought; because never in your wildest dreams did you fantasise about such a deeply personal occurrence.

When enough time has passed, and your attire is decent once more — or at least enough for oblivious guests to not suspect a single thing — you finally leave the room.

The door creaks open, and you grimace, hoping that no one observed the two of you vanishing into and appearing out of the same dark room.

You flatten your dress, head looking from left to right.

Which side did you come from?

You barely remember. It’s lit here, but it’s still somewhat scary. Several portraits decorate the walls; the hallway isn’t infinite, but both ends show a curve — one must lead to the staircase.

You noticed none of this when he dragged you here.

Eventually and instinctively, you choose left, because you’ll definitely come out somewhere, right?

You draw an invisible line along the wall, humming the melody of the music you heard downstairs. The thousand and millions of butterflies still float through your tummy, the heat in your cheek lingering and a glowing smile plastered to your face.

Perhaps he was right indeed.

Perhaps you will be able to forgive each other, feel fondness and replace the gloom, forget the past and your childish feud.

From the way he looked at you, his sentiment seemed and felt real. You won’t necessarily claim he’s in love with you, and you probably aren’t either yet, but you do think that he’s at least reached a stage of affection for you.

One very well reciprocated.

Your steps are light. Your memory filled with the overall gentle mood you just escaped from. Despite the partly feral touches, it felt like he was taking care of you more than anything.

So, maybe… drawing a conclusion from the goddamn grin on your face, you can look past all the misery that you waded through an—

“Why did you drag me here? I have somewhere else to be.”

The familiar dulcet voice stops you in your tracks.

It’s faint, not quite in your proximity, but close enough for you to register immediately; undoubtedly his. You’d recognise the sweet timbre anywhere by now, not least of all because you heard it whisper promises into your ear just minutes ago.

You step into its direction, noticing a door standing ajar. The room is dimly lit, and you can’t see him from where you are. There’s a curious urge to push the door open, see what’s going on.

But then, another voice speaks up, deeper, his absolute contrast, “I won’t keep you here for long.”

“What do you want?”

The other man is upset; if the click of his tongue doesn’t suggest that, the tone of his voice surely does, “Why are you talking to me like that? I thought it was you who wanted to leave the town.”

Hold on.

What?

Jungkook wants to leave the town?

Hmm. Odd.

He didn’t tell you anything about this…

“I know,” he confirms. You try your best to not let it get to you, not questioning what that makes of whatever is transpiring between you — because maybe, he wants to take you with him. “But it doesn’t have to be right away.”

“Why?” The other chuckles, clearly in mock. “What happened?”

Jungkook pauses. Thinks. You almost walk away again, fearing he might flee the room. But then, he simply says, “It can wait.”

“You begged for it for ages. I told you you can walk away, I don’t care. But not alone.”

“I know—”

“I meant it.”

For some reason, the voice sounds familiar to you. You rack your brain, because where have you heard him before…

You listen in as the man adds, his tone sharp, uncivil, “You get married, and you can leave. I’m not betting on you or giving you any money just for you to use it on your usual shenanigans, drinking and whores.”

“Stop. I know. You don’t need to repeat it to me every single day.”

This is…

You have a hunch who that man might be.

You blink. Your heart plummets to your stomach.

What?

Is that why… you’re here? He wants to leave, marry you, take you away just to escape this haunted place?

Are you an option for him to break free? To forget his old life, to start something better, but just for himself?

And if that’s what he wants… why you? Of all people. Because of your status? Your reputation?

“I’ll do anything to get out of here, so do not worry. I have it all planned out,” you hear Jungkook say.

Anything.

Like, make someone marry him for his own benefit.

You feel ill.

Stumbling back, you press your back against the wall. You should leave, run away, stop listening in on their deal and whatever else might’ve been discussed in the shadows.

Your throat dries out. You focus on staying silent, because if you do anything remotely loud now, you’ll be caught spying.

Shit. How could you dive head-first into such a thing?

He wouldn’t change. You knew from the beginning who he was, what made him, him. Why would it differ in a week? In a month? Just because he said it…

The sour taste on your tongue, the self-pity, and the bitter feeling of betrayal irk you.

Your eyes shut close, and only then do you notice that they’ve stopped talking. You move your head to the side just a little, nearly expecting that he’ll rip the door open, see you standing and slowly falling.

He’ll probably feign ignorance. Walk out in all his gorgeous, deceiving glory, and your disgust towards all of this will gnaw away at you until nothing’s left of you.

Jungkook will continue his act, and you’ll smoulder inside, just as you predicted.

But maybe you’re thinking too much. Maybe he’ll say that he was looking for someone, and found that someone ideal in you. Maybe you’re concluding the worst, being dramatic.

But for now, he says none of these things.

In truth, what they talk about next is worse.

“Uncle, is there anything else you need from me?” Jungkook speaks up; sounds tired all of a sudden.

That’s what you thought. The voice haunted the little girl that you used to be for nights, so it’s a given that you’d know it from somewhere, right? A frowning face levitating over a kid’s head.

You suppose you weren’t the only child fearing his presence. There was someone who was surrounded by it all the time, fearful and quiet.

Hesitation. Then, “How are you faring with the girl?”

Another beat passes, and your heartbeat halts, stuck in your throat. Optimistic.

He answers, “She is kind. I like her.”

A sliver of dull hope sparks, though you’re still barely done processing the aforementioned information. But maybe… maybe you can talk things out—

“Enough to swoon her, I assume.”

No… You can’t comprehend what his uncle’s deal is. Perhaps he’s aware of you lingering outside; or maybe he’s truly venomous enough to bring up ideas that shatter you.

But his nephew isn’t better, is he?

No.

“Yes,” Jungkook says, firmly, “I think so.”

“Good. Makes things easier.”

“Yes…”

“I told you it wouldn’t be too difficult,” his uncle says nearly cheerfully, as if he’s celebrating a long-awaited victory, “I know we failed with the older sister, but I do think you have the younger one wrapped around your finger. What was her name again?”

Like you’re a toy to beat up. To control and play with, like you don’t possess a bleeding, beating heart.

Or even a name.

Like you’re one in the faceless crowd.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, and the Duke claims, “It doesn't matter anyway, right? I told you it’s easier to proceed when—”

“—you make a woman fall in love with you. I know,” Jungkook finishes like a mantra, like something that has been preached to him on the daily, “takes no time for—”

“For a man like you.”

You remain without reaction, nearly numb to their words. Your eyes focus on a spot on the floor, unmoving; your body doesn’t want to budge.

“But I’ll take my time,” Jungkook argues, “I won’t propose right away. And I don’t understand why you want me gone so fast.”

“You do know. Jungkook, you’re a menace to our name.”

You take a deep breath. If Jungkook would just defy his uncle’s suggestions… if he didn’t play along…

He’s suffering under his tyranny, right? Perhaps that’s the only excuse you’ll allow; that he’s locked in a steel cage, unable to escape.

But it doesn’t hurt less. Because it means that anything he said, all the touches you shared were meaningless, a product of desire but nothing behind it.

Right?

“Every adult and child knows of your reputation, and I cannot fix it anymore,” the older man scolds, “Keep doing it, and even your brother, my heir, will lose everyone’s respect.”

Perhaps that’s where Jungkook’s patience ends, because he snarls, “Remember that he was already the heir when father died. You were nothing back then.”

“Careful. You were children, and your mother could do nothing for you, so be grateful th—”

That’s it.

You can’t take more than this; can’t freeze yourself against the wall, become one with it, numb all your senses and emotions.

So when you step away, breaking the dam holding back the overwhelming misery that treachery called forth, one single tear rolls down your cheek.

You’re embarrassed; hopelessly drowning in mortification.

You rush through the hallway in a blur, and stop at the railing of the staircase, catching your breath. When was the last time you had a sip of water? You don’t remember.

But the room is spinning.

You were too drunk on him, and he pulled you back into the agonising reality. You inhale the sob, fingers shaking when you lift them from your dress.

You’re so stupid.

Such an idiot to trust him.

That’s what your guts meant. What Byun meant.

And you let doe eyes play with you.

Perhaps it’s not the worst thing that he treated you like a lifeless body. You were used to it; you knew what he thought of you; understood that he didn’t have a shred of respect for you.

What you hate is that he pretended to change that opinion. That he pushed you into this fog of illusion, and double-crossed you as if it meant nothing.

And what if you’d fallen for him deeper? If you’d actually agreed to the betrothal? Would he have told you about his secrets or continued his act until the end of your lives?

It takes time until your chest stops aching; you wonder whether he’s still in that room, saying something worse that you didn’t hear anymore. But if he’s not… you should probably leave, right?

You can’t explain a fallen face just yet.

And you won’t lose yourself because of a man, will you? You shouldn’t dwell in pain, no matter how much it constricts your chest and squeezes your heart.

Your mother always said you’re only true to your feelings when you allow yourself to cry. That hurting is part of life, and that you will one day hurt, too.

But.

She didn’t tell you just how bad it could be.

You give your aching eyelids a rub. Then, you muster strength, once again flattening the fabric of your dress. You wear a neutral expression, tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Wipe at your cheek, fan air into your face.

You straighten your stance, and finally walk down the main hall and out the mansion.

People don’t regard you as much anymore as they did before — fortunately, though you already had an excuse or two at hand, should they ask for Jungkook.

I just needed a fresh breath of air. He surely must be inside somewhere.

The guests lingering outside seem to be having more fun than the ones inside. The atmosphere and weather are pleasant, ideal to get drunk on alcohol, laughter and joy.

You wonder if you can catch a carriage somewhere. Maybe there’s one to spare; usually, there is, in case of an emergency, right?

Because you won’t ride back home with Jungkook. Can’t think back to his lips on your neck, his fingers on you, eyes drowning in yours.

No…

You walk towards the entrance door, calling for someone, asking whether anyone’s available. You barely hear your own calls, working on reflex, tired out and desperate.

When your search seems fruitless, you walk back to the guests roaming around. You could ask one of the guests whether you could hitchhike. But then again, that would evoke questions, and you don’t think anyone here lives near your place.

And it seems that you took too much time just wandering around.

Because a moment later, Jungkook, wearing his usual smile on his striking face, is walking towards you. He calls your name, and you sigh deeply, hearing him question, “I was looking for you everywhere. Where did you go?”

Where were you supposed to go?

You weren’t leaving. It was him who suddenly disappeared.

“Just… here,” you tell him.”

“People saw you walking towards the carriages.” He nods to the exit, shifting his balance to the other leg. “Are you leaving?”

“No.” You gulp. “I mean. Yes, I was going to, but. I don’t have a carriage to bring me home.”

“...You didn’t tell me you wanted to go home.”

“I couldn’t find you, and didn’t want to burden you,” you lie; you’re not sure why you’re fabricating whatever truth. Maybe because you’re exhausted. “I’m not feeling well… But I can’t leave anyway.”

You look around, goosebumps on your skin. Less because of the breeze, more because it carries his scent to you.

Determined to avert his worried eyes, you watch the leaves of the trees oscillate. The cloudless sky allows a direct view to the crescent moon. Around it, a thousand and millions of stars paint the darkness, some brighter than the others.

There’s calmness in that picture, up above in heaven; but no tranquillity here on the ground.

Hell truly is empty.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jungkook suddenly asks.

You look at him; perhaps you’re easy to read, though you always deemed yourself inscrutable. You furrow your eyebrow innocently, shaking your head slowly to hide the true answer:

Yes. Unfortunately, stupidly, yes.

But you were worse.

Trusted just his words, laid your heart open to him, diving deep without asking for proper redemption of him. Just his damn words… his ask for another chance…

“No,” you speak instead. “No, I think it’s the corset. It’s too tight all of a sudden, and I am also starting to get a headache from the orchestra and the heat and…”

“I can help you with your corset,” he offers, shifting closer. You step back; his movements freeze. And just to pacify him a little, you move back to the prior spot again. He tries, “Should I get you something to dr—”

“No. I’ll try and rest somewhere.”

“I… take my carriage then.”

His suggestion is firm. You think he doesn’t quite believe you yet, but he doesn’t insist on an explanation either.

Of course not.

Because he doesn’t care enough.

His finger points in a general direction, and he adds, “I could pester my cousins until they permit me to ride along. You could have one of their chaperones—”

You shake your head. “It’s not very late. Barely nine, yes? I can take another carriage.”

“Which one?” he asks, gesturing around with an open palm. “There’s none left for you… so it’s alright. Go ahead.”

Guilt burns in your veins when you look into these wide eyes of his. Like a kitten.

He sounds resolute; you don’t think you will win this fight against him.

An inside voice chuckles when your knees threaten to buckle — after everything you’ve heard, you still think that deep down, he cares. That despite his battle plan, you took over at least a tiny spot in his heart; somewhere in the back, hidden but there.

But… you need to keep your armour intact.

“Are you well?” he asks.

Amidst the darkness spreading in your mind, you lift one side of your lips to a gentle smile, folding your hands as you say, “I will be.”

And as though he has read the contents of your heart, he puts a finger on your chin, lifting your face to study your expression. Of course he is — perhaps he remembers the hidden conversation just as well as you.

Maybe, looking into the depths of his cold, pumping organ, he’s good enough to overthink his wrongdoings, too.

Because he leans into you, and mumbles, “I am sorry if I hurt you anyhow.”

A tight knot appears in the pit of your stomach. “What…?”

“In that room,” he answers, and you sigh a breath of relief. No confrontation. No pain. Not yet. “I tried to be gentle.”

But not with your heart.

“You were gentle,” you assure, “I am fine.”

Such a vast number of people are gathered around you, and despite the nature of the moment, you still can’t seem to register anyone but him. You’re stupid. Truly stupid.

Jungkook nods, and brings you to the carriage silently. You climb in with your hand in his, and once you’re settled in your seat, he lets go; instead, immediately stepping up to you. Hiding you from everyone’s sight, here in the shade of the carriage where the moon doesn’t reach.

He doesn’t waste any time: grips your face, his thumb soft on your cheek. It’s a sudden movement, half scaring you, half intriguing you. Your breath hitches once more, your chest heaving.

When he looks at you without a single word, you think you’re panting.

He might be taking your reaction as a sign of affection. As he did on your way to this place, or in the room upstairs.

But in truth, his touch stings, akin to a thousand tiny needles pricking your flesh.

Flushed, lavish lips brush the tip of your nose when he leans in. You don’t hesitate or reject, because your own lips won’t push out and reveal your feelings yet. You have barely understood them yourself.

But what they will do is whisper his name one last time.

“Jungkook…”

“I… I hope to see you again soon.”

You smile.

What your lips will do is let him pull you in and kiss you. Will move against his. Will drown in the deep tenderness of his touch, no matter how much it hurts. Will permit him to slide his tongue through, dancing with yours.

When he’s done playing with you, and you’re done letting him, he pecks the apple of your cheek once more, and then mutters, “Good night, princess.”

He steps out. Waves you goodbye.

When the carriage finally leaves, your lips still stay sealed.

And you think another thing they do is… finally tremble.

thoughts? questions? theories? anger, sadness, love? what do we think, how do we feel?

ahhh seriously, i’ve never written something like this before, so it was a really fun yet scary experience. i’m very sorry if it’s not as good as expected; the next part will be better, i promise, but i worked very hard on this, too !! :D

whether you’re an old or new reader of mine, or leave short or long feedback, i absolutely love talking to you all. since support genuinely goes a super long way, please please like, reblog (!!), and talk to me in any way, like through comments; or better yet, as i always say come yell at/with, spam meeee <33

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ahundredtimesover · 4 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (01) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 12k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Happy 2024, everyone! 🎉 Dropping this tonight as a welcome to the new year and the start of the wild journey that is this story. It's a different JK that I'm used to writing. It's also a different arrangement for me as the story is still being written, so just a heads up that updates won't be as regular compared to before, but they'll definitely come (pls don't come at me hehe 😁)! This is also a painfully slow build-up with lots of details and office talk so please be patient! I don’t know how this will turn out and be revived but I hope you enjoy! 💕

Also my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight as always 🥰

Jung Hoseok’s smile is like a ray of sunshine - warm on cool mornings, radiant on sunny afternoons. It’s light and infectious, but more than anything, it’s genuine. There’s comfort in the way his entire face beams and how the rest of his body follows; there’s this sense of openness that makes it easy to be around him, that makes it easy to work for him.

It was 10 years ago when you first encountered that smile - bright and encouraging as he welcomed you and the rest of the interns to his family’s company. It slowly dissolved the anxiety you were feeling over being 1 of 12 chosen students to work for one of the leading real estate and property development corporations in the country. You’d see it again two years later as an employee, and you recall how he perked up at the sight of you, having remembered those eight weeks you spent preparing the conference room for their meetings and serving the executives their coffee.

You wouldn’t have expected that five years after that, you’d be seeing that smile everyday as his executive assistant, and it was one of the things that made the job bearable. Despite the long hours and the amount of work you had to do and events you had to accompany him to, working for Hoseok always felt worth it. Despite the insane amount of pressure he was put under and the stress he had to endure, Hoseok somehow always managed to smile.

He was serious when he had to be, but there was joy in how he did things. He allowed himself moments of calm, of time to check in on his support team for a few laughs. He’d spare himself a few minutes a day to sway to the soft music he plays in his office, he’d preside over meetings with vigor, and he’d start and end every interaction with anyone with that smile - the same smile that assures you that all your hard work is appreciated and which encourages you to keep learning.

It’s that same smile that he has on right now, as he hands you a custom-made cake with ‘you worked hard’ written on it. He says the words as your eyes turn to him in surprise.

“Thank you for all that you’ve done,” Hoseok says. “I know you were new to the role just like I was but you made everything so easy for me. I’m gonna have to get used to being without your brilliance, Ms. Cho. I hope you never doubt yourself ever again.”

Your astonished face turns into a pout, as it dawns on you that it’s Friday, the first unofficial day of you no longer being Hoseok’s executive assistant, given his appointment as President not long ago. Yet despite the big change he’ll be experiencing starting next week, he’s the one affirming and comforting you, something that’s rare for someone of his stature and something you’ll definitely miss.

“You know I don’t cry, but I just might,” you respond, earning you a chuckle. “But really, I… I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me. I know my credentials weren’t like the others but—”

“Ms. Cho,” he interjects. “The only credentials those other applicants had were the universities they went to, but none of them matched your level of skill and dedication to the role. I can assure you that none of them would’ve managed the past three years like you did. I should be thanking you for dealing with all the craziness with me.”

“You’re a good boss, it’s that simple,” you return the compliment now. “You were patient with me and challenged me to be better without putting me down. That does a lot for a person’s confidence, you know?”

“I know that now,” he smiles again. “But really, I don’t think I could’ve asked for a more competent right-hand woman. Jungkook’s lucky he’s taking my position with the most capable assistant to help him out.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your face sours, something that Hoseok picks up, earning you another laugh.

“Not a fan of him, I see,” he eyes you curiously.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Jung, but your cousin is not you,” you explain. “I may have only seen him a handful of times but those are enough to let me know that he does not smile.”

“Yes, I do confirm that,” Hoseok chuckles. “Jungkook’s quite the perfectionist and very much a workaholic. But he’s brilliant and creative and you’ll learn a lot from him, too. He’s being primed to co-lead the company with me and he needs a strong support for that and I think that’s you. His father thinks that’s you, and for the CEO to think so means a lot, ___. Uncle has seen how you work and was adamant that you remain in this role, especially with his son assuming the Vice President position.”

You know that Hoseok means to reassure you, but you suppose your insecurities over having this role and even being in this company won’t ever really go away. You didn’t graduate from a prestigious university in Seoul like most employees here did, and in this society, that usually means everything. You’re thankful for the trust that you’ve been given and you agree that you worked hard for it, too, but it will always be overwhelming; even then, it sometimes still feels undeserved.

At your silence, Hoseok speaks again. “___, as your former boss and as your friend, I’m here to back you up. Jungkook’s family but if he, for some reason, acts like a hard-headed jerk, you let me know, okay?”

He turns serious now, as he silently asks for you to promise him that you’ll speak out if you need to. Hoseok knows what you went through under Mrs. Byun, the former manager who abused her power over you until her own slip-up caused her downfall years later, and he doesn’t want you to go through that again.

“Okay. But I didn’t mean to imply that he’s a jerk just because he doesn’t smile,” you clarify. “I guess I meant to say that… I’ll miss working for you. That’s all. We somehow always got a laugh in, no matter how stressful things were. I’ll miss being with A-yeong, too.”

“I know you also meant to say that I’m the best boss you’ve ever had,” Hoseok chuckles, though you don’t miss the sadness in his eyes, too. “But I’ll just be two floors above you. You’ll still see me everywhere. And A-yeong’s gonna miss you, too, that’s why she can’t let you go without having dinner out, that I’m apparently not invited to.”

“We’re just gonna gossip about you, don’t worry,” you tease, appreciative of the fact that his wife has been kind to you all these years, apologizing to you on his behalf during the rare times he’s cranky, and gifting you little things from their trips abroad. “But thank you again, Hoseok,” you continue, dropping the formalities when you mean to speak to him as a friend, because that’s what he is, and it’s a rarity in this industry where those in power tend to take advantage of those below them. “You’ve treated me well, and I’ll never forget that.”

“Thank you, ___,” he smiles once more. “I’ll finish setting up my new office now. I’ll see you there in 30 minutes, okay? I know Jungkook officially starts on Monday but he wanted to get all the administrative stuff out of the way as soon as possible and since my old room is being sanitized, he’ll be staying at mine the whole morning. HR has everything he needs to sign so please get those documents from them before heading to my office.”

“Oh, so he’s coming today?” You ask, unable to hide the mix of surprise and disappointment in your voice. You’re clearly uninformed about this. “Didn’t he just arrive last night?”

“Yes, he did. I thought he’d at least spend today resting but no, he called me an hour ago to say he’ll drop by this morning so he can get straight to business on his first day,” Hoseok explains, shaking his head at the thought of his cousin wanting to get straight to work. “I know it’s short notice so you don’t need to brief him or anything yet. You’ve been buried in organizing all my files this past week after all.”

“Okay, but I’ve got everything organized for him already anyway in case he wants to start,” you say, having prepared all the documents he’d need to ease into his role more smoothly, knowing it’s your job to help him with that.

“Of course you have,” Hoseok chuckles, impressed as always with how on top you are of everything. “I’ll see you in half an hour.”

You sulk in your seat once he’s out of view, whining internally because much as your files are ready for your new boss, you’re the one who isn’t. You’d held off on mentally preparing yourself for meeting the Jeon Jungkook, second son of the current CEO of Jeon Corporation and the new Vice President, thinking you’d have the entire weekend for that, so you’re caught off guard at having to face him today. It’s one thing to move on from no longer having Jung Hoseok as your boss - that itself took you months to process and accept; it’s another to have to get used to assisting someone else, someone you know is completely different in attitude and approach to his work.

Jungkook used to be an executive in the Singapore office, the Southeast Asian headquarters of the company. In your three years as Hoseok’s assistant, you’d only seen Jungkook a few times, such as when he’d fly to Seoul for an official visit or a family gathering but you never interacted, as you didn’t really have a reason to, especially since you were always busy with making sure the event was running smoothly.

But you’d definitely noticed him, partly because the female staff always talked about him when he was around, and partly because next to his parents and his cousins, who are all personable in their own ways, Jungkook sticks out like a sore thumb. You’re not exaggerating when you say that you’ve never seen him smile - not for the pictures and not when he’s talking to the other executives and employees, a contrast to his father’s infectious charm and his mother’s youthful energy.

You’ve gotten used to Hoseok’s passion balanced with his thoughtfulness and joy - you always enjoyed the videos that A-yeong would show you of their weekends doing ballroom dancing because it’s what he loved to do with her. You’re unsure how you’ll manage assisting someone who’s the complete opposite. You’ve heard of Jungkook’s abilities though; his father always spoke of them with pride. Creative and innovative, he’d say of his son, but he always lived in his head, too, and perhaps that’s why even if he can socialize with others, he prefers not to, given that you’d always seen him at the bar after said events, drinking on his own.

You didn’t think those times that you’d one day be having him as your boss. You didn’t expect the appointments to come this soon, nor did you expect to still be in the company by the time they happened. But here you are, about to meet him and hoping to the heavens that whatever preconceived notions you have of him based on what very little you know would be proven wrong.

Wanting to calm yourself down before meeting him, you head to the management support team’s office for a cup of tea in the pantry, but you’re stopped by Do-hyun, one of the project assistants.

She hugs you like she always does, even if you rarely ever return it, and she whines like you expect her to, given her unusually pouty face.

“It’s only been an hour but I already miss Mr. Jung,” she laments. “Why did they appoint him as President so soon? They could’ve waited for another year or so, or at least let him take us with him!”

You find yourself being the reasonable one this time, as you pull her away from you so you could talk to her properly.

“We always knew he was going to be President, Do-hyun. But then the Board decided to make Ji-woo head of the Singapore office after their uncle stepped down, and that meant Hoseok had to take his sister’s place,” you explain, knowing how generational corporations like this work, with family members rotating in the executive positions. “And much as he’d like to take us with him, the position already comes with its own team. He’s just two floors above us, though. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we popped in every once in a while to say hi.”

“No, I’m bitter,” she pouts again, earning her a laugh from you.

“Well, at least the new Vice President isn’t a stranger,” Manager Lee chimes in.

“I heard the CEO’s son doesn’t smile,” Do-hyun counters. “How do we go from assisting someone who literally gives all of us the energy to work each day, to someone who doesn’t think there’s anything worth being happy about? I also heard he’s a workaholic, so what if he demands that we can’t leave the office until he does? And that he’s kind of a fuck boy, so what if he has a scandal that we have to—”

“Yah! Those are just hearsay, and we don’t listen to those,” you warn her, not wanting the team to start on a bad note because of some rumors about your new boss that may or may not be true.

And if those are, it’s your job to make sure that those are handled properly and that there’s no friction between the management support team and the Vice President. The thought suddenly hits you and you feel nauseous. You’ve never had these worries with Hoseok because he always prioritized the team - he made sure that tasks were properly delegated, that you all took your well-deserved break, that you weren’t burnt out, that you all knew he got your back the way you all got his.

But then again, it’s natural to be anxious about change, especially when what you had was already the best it could’ve been. And much as you were the one worrying about this earlier, you’re now the one who has to reassure the team, especially the younger members, that things are going to be okay.

“You’ll meet him soon, and I’ll make sure he’s properly oriented with everything before he sits down with you all,” you say. “Let’s just be optimistic about this, okay? Manager Lee has been here a while and he can guide all of us when it comes to adapting to changes like this.”

The rest of the team nods, voicing their agreement about being open and welcoming to your new boss.

“Okay, good. Now let me get my tea before I combust,” you chuckle, heading towards the adjacent room.

You’re busy taking breaths in between sips of your hot drink when you see a familiar face in the room through the glass window, prompting you to head back outside.

“Mr. Ri,” you greet, causing the man before you to turn towards you. “What are you doing here? Does Mr. Jeon need anything?”

Knowing you’re referring to the elder Jeon, Mr. Ri shakes his head.

“I’m here as Jungkook’s chauffeur and bodyguard, actually. His father appointed me, wanting people he trusts to help his son,” he clarifies. “I’ve just driven him from his penthouse.”

“Oh,” you say, unable to control the way your face falls a little. “So, he’s here.”

“He is. He said he wanted to get things done today so he doesn’t waste his time when he starts next week. He’s at Hoseok’s office right now. I believe he’s supposed to sign some documents?”

“Oh shit,” you blurt out, immediately setting down your half-finished tea and rushing out the door to speed-walk to your desk, ignoring Mr. Ri’s demand for you to slow down.

With what little you know of your new boss, he seems like the type to not excuse tardiness, so you take your files, head to HR to retrieve some documents, and then proceed to Hoseok’s office. You try to catch your breath as you head towards the door, which opens before you get to knock, revealing Bitna, the President’s assistant, who greets you with a sweet smile.

“Hi, ___. I was just about to call you,” she says. “CEO Jeon is inside as well. Just walk in, they’re waiting for you.”

You cross the small hallway as the door gently closes, and you stop in your tracks the moment you hear Jungkook’s voice.

“I still prefer my old assistant,” he says, obviously displeased. “He was very organized, highly educated, and well-traveled. While this Ms. Cho didn’t even study in a top university in Seoul. And Hoseok says she doesn’t know any other foreign languages when that’s one of my requirements.”

“Son, you’re being too harsh,” CEO Jeon chides. “Ms. Cho is a top performing employee, very hardworking and dedicated. She’s worked here for eight years and she imbibes all our values; she knows the company culture and knows the ins and outs of things with how she’s been exposed to them. Ask your cousin; Hoseok speaks highly of her.”

“___ is great, Kook. She’s incredibly organized and highly analytical and observant. She doesn’t need a Seoul education to be good at what we need her to be good at,” Hoseok argues.

“I still want my old assistant. It’s more convenient that way. Lucas already knows how I work and what I require of him,” Jungkook insists. “I’m just saying that I need things to be efficient and she and I can’t be adjusting to each other when there are multiple projects that I’d much rather give my attention to.”

“And I’m saying that Ms. Cho probably knows more than you do when it comes to these projects,” the elder Jeon counters. “Plus, your old assistant would have to adjust to life in Seoul and that’s harder. It’s just not practical, especially since you’re due to start in a few days. You have other things to worry about. ___ is there to make your life easier. Give her that chance to do her job.”

“But I—”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you greet, not wanting to hear whatever unfounded things that Jungkook has to say, even if you have your own preconceived notions about him which, you remind yourself, are partly founded. Barely five minutes in and you already can’t stand his judgmental and entitled ass.

You walk towards the middle of the room where they’re congregated on the couches, with the elder Mr. Jeon and Hoseok smiling at you while Jungkook merely glances at you, his jaw clenched, perhaps irritated at the fact that you’d overheard him completely misjudge and undermine your abilities without even knowing who you are.

“Good morning, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says. “I know you’ve seen him a few times but I’d like you to officially meet my son and the new Vice President, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turns to you with a disinterested look but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You bow as a sign of respect, even if it’s the last thing you think he deserves.

“My pleasure, Mr. Jeon,” you respond. “I was told that you’d like to proceed with administrative matters this morning. I have all the documents with me and I can explain each one to you before you sign them. I’ve also consolidated all the things you need to know prior to your meetings next week,” you add, handing him an iPad. “This has the resumes of each member of your management support team, including their professional and development goals. Mine are there as well, so you can read about my credentials and achievements in this company the past eight years, which I think have tremendously helped me in performing my duties satisfactorily. There’s also a folder of team profiles of each of the departments you’re overseeing. You’ll also find closure reports of completed projects from the past five years, progress reports of ongoing projects, and approved and working proposals of upcoming ones. I’ve included summaries and key figures for each of them. You may read them prior to your meetings, and if there’s anything missing that you’d like me to include, I can have them ready by the end of the day.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums, as he scrolls through all the folders you’ve prepared for him.

In your periphery, you can see the other two men holding in smiles as you seemingly render the younger man speechless, but while he assesses all that you’ve provided to him, you’re given time to observe the man seated before you. Other than his slightly longer hair, not much has changed from when you saw Jungkook in last year’s gala.

As he drags his tongue across the inside of his cheek with his scrunched eyebrows in judgment, you’re reminded that this is the first time you’ve seen him up close. And even from his angle, you can tell.

He’s unfairly handsome.

He’s got dark expressive eyes, soft-looking pink lips, and a sharp jawline that complement his lean figure. You understand why the staff are enamored by him even from afar and - if the rumors about him are true - why women would shoot their shot with him at clubs, in hopes they’d be the lucky one he’d choose to be with for the night.

The illusion breaks, though, as he turns to you with a hardened gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll find something that’s missing,” he states.

“If they’re relevant and necessary, I can have the files ready by today,” you respond, knowing full well that you’ve included every possible document that would be of use to him.

“I’ll be the judge of what’s relevant and necessary, Ms. Cho,” he counters.

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” you say, conceding. “Whatever it is, then I’ll make sure to have them ready for you as soon as possible.”

Jungkook hums in response, turning his attention to the HR documents this time, breezing through the text and ignoring your brief explanations of the contents before signing at the bottom of the pages. You inform him of sections he’s missed, and he groans at having been corrected but you don’t mind. He’s the one who chose to do all this now and in here, in front of his father and his cousin.

Once he’s done, he hands you the signed files and holds your gaze. “Is there anything else, Ms. Cho?”

“I suppose that is all, Mr. Jeon. Unless there are other things you want to assess, or people you want to ensure are qualified to assist you with your functions,” you say.

Jungkook huffs in displeasure. You can sense the tension build, as irritation paints his face. It’s at that moment that his father chimes in, suggesting that you introduce him to his team.

“You can maybe also orient him on the current projects and partnerships,” the older man says.

“That can wait. I’ve had enough of engaging for today,” Jungkook responds, his voice cold, detached.

“In that case, let me lead you to your floor, Mr. Jeon.”

You step back and wait for him to walk ahead, before you excuse yourself from the older men. You don’t miss the sorry looks on their faces, and you give them a smile as if to say that it’s fine, that Jungkook’s someone you can handle, and his obvious displeasure towards having you as his assistant doesn’t faze you. It doesn’t change the fact that you wish he wasn’t your boss though, or at least, that he wasn’t such a jerk like what he’s being right now.

Walking behind him as you both head towards the elevator, you see the way he carries himself - hands in the pockets of his sleek black trousers, his eyes focused straight ahead, nothing like Hoseok who was always gesticulating as he spoke to you every time you walked side-by-side from one place to another.

Jungkook stands in front of the doors, seemingly waiting for you to press the buttons and you do it before he could even express his annoyance. You stand in front this time, then make sure you hold the doors open for him to exit, and you resume your spot behind him as you walk down the hallway.

“On the left are two small meeting rooms and one conference room,” you start, thankful that there’s not much to tour him around on this floor, given that everything is exclusive to the Vice President. “On the right is a seating room, and up ahead is an archive room. Down the—”

“I’ve been here before, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook interjects as he looks at you blankly. “This is my family’s building; I’m very much aware of how the floors look like.”

Not rattled by his disruption, you nod and smile, wanting to show him that whatever intimidation or humiliation he’s trying to make you feel isn’t gonna work on you. You know if you show any sign of frustration, that will just give him a reason to have you replaced and despite your clear dislike for the man, you need this job, especially this position that allows you to pay your rent in a safe part of town and send money to your family every month. At this point, that’s the only thing that will keep you going.

Approaching the management support office, you walk faster and make sure to enter the room before he does, signaling the team with your eyes that their new boss is coming, your silently frantic gaze telling them to be on their best behavior because their usual antics won’t work on Jungkook the way they did with Hoseok.

Once Jungkook appears, everyone bows and greets him, and you can sense them holding their breaths as they look up, taking him all in. You see him eye each person, and you can tell he’s already assessing them individually. You take it upon yourself to introduce each one, stating their name, where they studied and what course they took, describing their primary role in the team and their specific strengths. You see him follow your words, nodding and humming as you go, and you think he’s processing the information and making sure he remembers them.

There are no pleasantries; Jungkook just goes straight to the point.

“I’m sure you have concerns about having a new boss and the changes that come along with it. But I’m here to tell you now that you should get over whatever those are, as I’d like the adjustment period to be as short as possible,” he starts. “My cousin is brilliant at his job and so am I, but we work very differently, so whatever you got used to doing with and for him, don’t expect the same with me. I demand excellence and efficiency from each one of you because that’s what I commit myself to and that’s the only way that this team will be able to do its job. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the team answers in unison.

“We commit to those as well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee says. “As the head of your support team, I will make sure that all our deliverables are of high quality and that things will run smoothly so that we may properly do our job of assisting you.”

“That’s good, and that’s what I expect,” Jungkook says, nodding at everyone before walking out the door to head to his office, with you trailing him from behind.

“Is my room still being sanitized?” He turns to you.

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did it need to be sanitized? And why today?”

“It’s protocol, sir. We also had a sendoff for Mr. Jung yesterday so the room smelled of food. And he instructed for this to be done today so that I don’t need to come here tomorrow, as he doesn’t like any of his staff working during the weekend,” you reply. “This should be finished this afternoon. I’ve also purchased the oil for your diffusers. The room will be ready for you by Monday.”

Jungkook merely hums and looks around, specifically at your designated area with your desk and shelves at the back, then takes a call before turning to you again to say that he’s heading out to meet his friends.

“Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, thankful that you don’t have to deal with him for the rest of the day.

“No.”

“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you at your apartment at 6:30 AM on Monday. Is that time alright?”

“Sure,” he responds, then turns around and starts walking out. “Just keep your phone on. I work during the weekend.”

He’s gone before you can even respond, and you rush to the support office once you’ve heard the elevator ding that indicates that he’s gone. When you get there, you’re greeted with everyone’s frowns, with Do-hyun close to tears.

“I don’t like him, ___. He looks so unapproachable and too serious!” She complains. “I miss Mr. Jung. Is there an opening in his team? Should I just resign?”

“Aish!” You reprimand her. “Don’t speak like that. And don’t let those few minutes determine everything for you.”

“Well, those few minutes are enough to tell me that I don’t like him. No matter how good-looking he is,” Chin-sun says.

“He is, right!” Do-hyun chirps now, a complete 180 from seconds ago. “I’ve seen him around but I didn’t think he’d be even more handsome up close! It just sucks that he’s a grinch and that makes all the difference. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have a girlfriend! He’s probably too snobby and—”

“Yah! You really need to stop it with those rumors,” you scold her this time. “That’s your boss. His personal life is none of our business. Where do you even hear these things?”

“Every washroom in this building, basically. Staff are always gossiping there, you know?” Do-hyun responds.

“And since when do we listen to gossip,” you scowl at her. “Sure, he’s not our favorite person right now but we don’t have the right to make claims about aspects of his life. And where are people even getting those ideas!”

“People talk, I guess,” she shrugs. “And he’s often spotted in clubs with those Kim brothers so maybe they see things. I’m not saying they’re all accurate… just that rumors often have some truth to them, you know?”

“No, I don’t, and we shouldn’t be sticking our noses in places where they shouldn’t be,” you say.

“Fine, but it’s just a heads up,” Do-hyun says, turning serious now. “You’re his executive assistant, and you have no choice but to stick your nose in places because personal and professional lines are often blurred in your situation, and that’s just how our world’s set up.”

“She’s right,” Chin-sun chimes in. “I mean, you need to know his personal schedule, go to his apartment, do errands if you need to, maybe buy a box of condoms if he runs out… You just got lucky that Mr. Jung’s pretty chill and has a wife who’s even nicer than he is. Your only problem was that he was damn scared of everything that moved and wasn't human.”

You’d laugh at the last statement if you could, but you know they’re both right. Hoseok wasn’t perfect, and neither was his marriage, but it never reached a point where you had to be put in a compromising position because you were his assistant who, by nature of your work, had to be privy to some of his personal matters. The most involved you were was when he and A-yeong had an argument and they used you as their messenger, but even that was more of a miscommunication issue than anything serious. They apologized to you after and promised to never put you in that kind of situation again.

But with Jungkook as a single man, you’re unsure what personal business you’d end up being involved in. You just wish it wasn’t something that would test your principles and cause you to lose your job. Regardless, whatever that would be isn’t something you can even really talk about with others.

“Well, I don’t wanna think about any of that right now,” you sigh, knowing you’ve got enough to worry about, such as how you’re going to start surviving everyday assisting a man who clearly doesn’t want you around.

But if he’s gonna be a hard-head about it, then you’re just going to have to match him. You got to where you are because you’re determined to prove yourself constantly, and you’ll just show him that he needs you, and he doesn’t really have a choice unless he wants to argue with his father.

You try to encourage your team once more and give Do-hyun that rare hug in comfort before going back to your desk, intent on finishing all the presentations for your briefing with Jungkook next week. You begin setting up his room by mid-afternoon, using a photo of his Singapore office as a basis since you were told that he prefers a certain style for his furniture and decor. You’re no stylist but over an hour after you finish, you think you did pretty good. You were so into designing the space that you didn’t notice the time fly by; before you know it, it’s 6PM, because you can hear A-yeong right outside calling for you.

“Hi,” she chirps, hugging you in greeting. “Are you ready?”

“I’ll just pack my things,” you say, walking to your desk.

A-yeong takes a peek at the room and praises your efforts. “This looks so different from how it used to be. And that’s good because those cousins have such different tastes. But I think Jungkook will like this. He’s into the masculine and moody vibe, so good job, ___.”

You know that despite her kindness, she wouldn’t lie, and you could only hope that she’s right. You think it looks nice, but it’s what he thinks that matters; you’ll just have to wait until Monday to find out.

As you’re about to leave, Hoseok appears in the hallway and asks how you are. Your scowl pretty much gives you away.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook, ___. He’s stubborn and a hot-head sometimes but he isn’t always like that, and this isn’t me making excuses for him,” your former boss says.

“Why, what did he do?” A-yeong asks worriedly.

“Basically implied that I’m not qualified for this role, among other things,” you respond. “But it’s okay. Not like I haven’t heard that before.”

“And you know that’s not true,” Hoseok comforts you. “He’s not good with change, that’s all, and you know how these appointments were all pretty short notice and he’s just been frustrated ever since. But whatever it is he said, don’t take them to heart. He’ll get a word from me, and he’ll definitely get one from his father.”

You want to say that it’s not easy to just disregard what Jungkook said; he’s your boss after all, and all that matters is what he thinks about you. But you’re not one to air out these feelings to Hoseok now that you’ve experienced a bit of what it’s like, so you just shake your head and ask the older man to let it go.

“He’s probably just tired,” you make an excuse this time, not wanting to discuss further with Hoseok. “And he had that assistant for over five years. I can understand wanting that familiarity and convenience. I’m just gonna have to adjust; there are a lot of things going on right now and he’ll need to focus on the projects, not his compatibility with his assistant.”

“But that matters though,” Hoseok insists. “I got things done because we worked well together. He’s gonna have to meet you in the middle with this one. And I’ll make sure that he does.”

“I know you said you want to look out for me but I don’t think it’s a good idea if you intervene this time, Mr. Jung,” you say, letting him know you’re serious and you mean business. “I’ll be okay, don’t worry about me.”

You give him a comforting smile, and you hope it’s enough to quell Hoseok’s own worries and it works this time. He returns it before letting you and his wife go, and it’s the Thai dinner and incredible desserts that somehow make up for your not-so-great day.

You think the weekend will give you the peace you need to face your dreaded week - you do your errands and chores on Saturday and go to the market and watch a movie by yourself in the cinema the next day.

All it took was a text from Jungkook that Sunday evening, asking for copies of certain policies and disapproved proposals from the last five years, that just had to ruin it, as you spend the entire evening consolidating the files, making you already wish it was Friday.

Jungkook’s apartment building is one of the Jeon properties that you haven’t been to yet, as it’s one of the newer massive residential structures that they built three years ago. You enter the sleek-looking lobby then submit your documents at the reception in exchange for your own access, and you internally marvel at how luxurious everything looks.

You get to the 42nd floor, and it seems that there are only two units here. You walk towards the one on the right, choosing to be on the safe side by ringing the doorbell. It’s Monday, after all, and it’s your first time here; you don’t want to just enter without him permitting you to do so.

You’re about to press the button again after a minute of no response, when the door opens and you take a moment to process the sight before you.

There, standing just a few feet away, is Jungkook with nothing but a pair of black gym shorts on, his taut chest glistening in sweat, and his entire right arm covered in black and colored ink. His hair is damp and ruffled, and it’s probably due to the boxing he’d just done, as evidenced by the wraps on his knuckles and the way he’s panting heavily.

You get your senses back and look away, not wanting to look affected by his half-naked form, even if you’re the one who has to catch her breath this time because much as you dislike the man, you can’t deny that his body is something that definitely deserves to be praised.

“You’re here,” he speaks first, surprise laced in his voice as he takes in your obviously flustered form.

“I asked if 6:30 AM was a good time to come, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, glancing at him before looking at whatever you could behind him. “Perhaps I misheard your confirmation. I can wait downstairs if you’re not yet done with your exercise. My apologies for coming in early.”

You don’t actually have anything to be sorry for; he did confirm the time, and he’s the one who decided that working out at this hour was a good idea, knowing that his assistant’s scheduled to come. You would’ve appreciated it if he says you don’t need to apologize, but he doesn’t.

“It’s fine, I just finished,” he huffs.

He leaves the door open for you to enter then heads straight to the large room on the right, which looks to be an indoor gym. You allow yourself a few seconds to look at his retreating form, quietly gasping as his broad shoulders and slender waist blind you a little, then scolding yourself for doing so. You stay rooted by the kitchen and look around the spacious penthouse as you wait for him to return. He exits the gym wearing a loose white shirt now, combing his hair with his fingers as he drinks a bottle of water.

“So, Mr. Jeon, uh, I would prepare Mr. Jung’s outfits for the week and then help his house staff make his breakfast. I run down his schedule as he eats. Are you okay with the same arrangement?”

“Sure. I just don’t have any staff with me so you’re on your own. I’m fine with anything though. I’m not usually hungry in the morning,” he says before walking to the other side of the apartment.

You follow him, careful not to enter spaces you’re not given permission to, which is why you stand by his bedroom door before asking to come in.

“How will you prepare my clothes from there?” He huffs. “Of course you can enter. Just be done before I finish taking a shower.”

You nod shyly and then head to the walk-in closet that thankfully has a separate door from the bathroom. He’s already unpacked his clothes, although not everything has been organized. You spot a few suits that are ready to wear, and you fix those first, taking note of asking him if there are things he wants dry cleaned or pressed.

You leave his bedroom in time, hearing him slide open the door as you make it out, and proceed to make his breakfast. There’s really not much you can create with what little he has, so you make do with eggs and toast and whatever spread you find in his cupboard.

Jungkook walks into the kitchen not long after, the dark gray suit looking immaculate on him as you expected. Spotting his crooked necktie, you immediately walk up to him to fix it, unaware of how he holds his breath with how close you are. Noticing his body stiffen, you step back right away, apologizing for not asking permission first.

He looks away and says it’s fine, then sits on the spot at the dining table where you’ve set up his meal. He stares at it for a good few seconds, prompting you to explain yourself.

“That’s… that’s all I could make with what you have, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “I can arrange for online groceries for you, as well as dry clean and pressing for your clothes and—”

“I’m having someone come in to clean my place and do all of that,” he says, as he takes a bite of his food. “So, what’s my week like?”

You start to enumerate the conference and lunch meetings he’ll be having this week, including who they’ll be with and their purpose. They’re mostly with the department leads to discuss updates on processes and current projects, and you’re thankful that Hoseok involved you as much as he did, given that Jungkook’s questions are more specific than you expected.

Sure, he’s a Jeon and obviously works in the same company, but the Southeast Asian projects are different from the ones being implemented in South Korea, and while he used to oversee overall compliance to design standards, he’ll now be in-charge of setting those very standards this time. As Vice President, he’ll be involved in crafting policies; he’s also free to manage his own construction projects, and that’s what the support team is for. Given his much more expansive role this time, there are more departments and projects to oversee, and definitely more executive decisions to make.

You suppose it’s why his questions don’t stop, even after he’s cleaned up and you both find yourselves in the backseat of the car and on the way to the office. He looks through the iPad with all the files you gave him, and you see the notes he’s made on them as you turn to him to answer his queries. Even if you know that he’s also still assessing you - perhaps on your knowledge and attention to detail - you can’t help but admire his thoroughness. You may have also cursed him in frustration for making you work on a Sunday, but he seems to have done way more than you, given that he went through all the documents over the weekend. You suddenly don’t feel too annoyed.

But of course, he has to ruin it again.

“I need these annotated versions of the project and departmental documents ready before my meetings with the respective teams,” Jungkook says, his voice low and stern. “And I expect progress reports to be as detailed as possible, so make sure to check them first before they get to me. The ones you gave need revisions. I believe you’re trained enough to know immediately that these are lacking.”

“Yes, sir,” you respond, noting his instructions on your notebook while internally yelling, given that you’re unsure of the need for them before the meetings.

Surely, he could give you some time to work on them, but with a meeting with one team in the afternoon and seven more the rest of the week, and on top of the other things you need to do for him, you already know you’ll be cramming to get everything done.

You try to manage your breathing. Somehow, your habit of pressing your nails against your palm when you're stressed has miraculously come back today. It was something you developed while working under Mrs. Byun, which you eventually got over after working for Hoseok. You feel the anxiety build up, especially as you look at the half crescent marks on your skin, and it’s times like this that you wish your best friends were based in Seoul instead of Busan, so you’d at least have people to comfort you when things are a little tough.

It’s not to say that work wasn’t overwhelming before. It definitely was, but Hoseok always found a way to make everything bearable and he was always reasonable with what he demanded of you. Now you’re stuck with a man who already makes you feel like your hard work isn’t enough.

You make it to the office with no other words said and a thick tension in the air. It follows you to the elevator and into Jungkook’s room, where he dismisses you so he can prepare for the first meeting of the day. You rush to your desk and get on with your tasks, making sure to work on the annotated project file that he needs by the afternoon.

It’s an hour later when you find yourself in the conference room for the meeting with the management support team. You prepped them just 10 minutes earlier, and while you tried to hide your frustration, your unusual lack of energy told them enough that it wasn’t exactly a good start of the day.

They come in one by one, and you take the time to prepare Jungkook’s coffee, remembering from his former assistant’s notes how he wants it. He’d put it off earlier, given that he prefers to drink his protein shake after his workout, so this is the first time you’re doing it for him.

His eyes flit from the coffee in front of him to you as you place it on the table.

“Two espresso shots and half teaspoon each of milk and sugar,” you state, wanting to confirm that you got it right.

He merely takes a sip, places it down again, and then starts the meeting.

How bold of you to assume that he’d thank you or even acknowledge it, as if he’d shown you even the tiniest amount of gratitude for anything you've done for him since Friday. Which he hasn’t.

You let it go and proceed to sit next to him, your eyes and ears ready for what you already predict is gonna be a long meeting.

It ends over three hours later. As you expected, he had a lot of questions. He made sure that each member had time to explain their current tasks and how they will monitor the projects assigned to them. You didn’t miss the way he’d acknowledged them with “good” and “well done,” and thanked them after they finished. He only nodded at you after your turn, with his eyes barely meeting yours, and for all the confidence you built over the past three years, you can’t process how it’s his non-acknowledgment that’s just going to undo all that. And quite frankly, you’re unsure if that’s on him or if that’s on you.

Half of the meeting was spent discussing the big project that he wants to take on as Vice President. There’s a property they recently acquired - a non-operational arts center that he wants to revive by adding a performance hall, small theaters, a grand library, function rooms, and a permanent exhibition presenting the buildings that his family had developed over the years to showcase their architectural designs.

You saw the excitement in your team members’ faces. Hoseok took over with several unfinished projects so you all had to focus on those. Aside from Manager Lee, this is the first time that you’re all handling something new and different. Even you felt the excitement creep in, a welcome emotion given how your day’s been going, but that shattered once he said that he wants it done by June of next year in time for an International Media Festival happening in August. The 12-month period he’s giving is too short with everything he wants to do, and you saw that the team felt the same.

You go to them after Jungkook leaves for a lunch meeting, and their sighs and pouty faces tell you enough. Mr. Lee does his job of encouraging the team, and you add that you’re all gonna be supporting each other through it all. Sure, you’d have to match Jungkook’s ambition and thoroughness, but you should all take it as a challenge.

You’re clearly not convinced yourself as the words come out of your mouth, but you don’t have time to debrief with them, as you still have that meeting with the design department that you have to prepare for. You take two biscuits and a cup of tea, and you decide that this is enough to last you throughout lunch, given that you’ll be spending the entirety of it working on the files.

You don’t realize that an hour and a half have passed until you hear footsteps and see Jungkook’s form appear in the hallway. You stand to greet him, with him asking if you’re done with the annotated documents.

“I’ll send it in five minutes, sir,” you say, hoping he’ll at least give you that.

“Okay,” he responds. “Come to my office after you’ve sent it.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, quickly finishing the last two pages once he closes the door.

You rush to get everything done and click send, then you head to his office and prepare yourself for more questions. It’s quiet inside as you watch him behind the desk, with his legs crossed and his eyebrows furrowed as he reads the document. You answer one of his questions and it’s at that moment when your very empty stomach decides to make itself known.

You freeze on your spot, as the grumbling sound starts low, getting louder for a few beats before it temporarily stops. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, and you press your belly so hard with your fingers in hopes that that would do anything, even if you’re too far gone at this point. Your only hope is that it was all in your head, but Jungkook’s eyes flitting to you tells you otherwise. The only other sound in his room is the air purifier, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out your intense hunger.

It goes again, and all you can do is look away; humiliating yourself was definitely not the plan for your first day as Jeon Jungkook’s assistant.

“Do you need to step away, Ms. Cho?” He asks, not meeting your eyes.

“Oh, it’s not… uh,” a bowel emergency or something, you want to say. “I just had a busy lunch break.”

You settle for that, a hint that you’d spent its entirety doing something in such a short notice. Hoseok would always be apologetic whenever he had you do something during your break; he always made up for it with a nice meal as thanks. You doubt you’d get anything close to that from this man.

Jungkook hums and surprisingly doesn’t ask for anything else. He dismisses you and orders you to go ahead and prepare the conference room for the next meeting, and you do just that, dropping by the pantry for a muffin that you eat in four bites, in hopes that it would be enough to shut your stomach for the next three hours.

Right as you exit, Jungkook picks up his phone to make a call. And then another one.

“Mr. Ri, please pick up the pastries that Ms. Cho ordered at the food hall,” he instructs his chauffeur. “She’s too busy right now.”

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

Taking minutes of a meeting when you’re starving is not a good thing. You know this because you’ve done this so many times, like during monthly executive meetings and the quarterly board meetings that have you spread out thin. It’s also not rare to miss out on lunch because there’s a report to finish or a site to visit; during events, you go on a day with having barely eaten anything.

But just because you’re used to it, it doesn’t mean that your body has fully adapted, because here you are, eyeing the croissants in front of you, your mouth watering at the gloss and softness of the pastry. They’re so tempting and also out of reach, given that you need to be entirely focused on the discussion that you’re documenting, and munching on something is out of the question. You don’t even know where this is from and you think maybe the design department called for snacks but it’s really not helping your concentration.

You hope the way you’re nibbling your lips doesn’t give you away, but Yoongi from across the table picks it up, as you get a notification of his message.

[From: Min Yoongi] you didn’t have lunch, did you?

You ignore the prompt on your laptop and respond to him with a look instead. You know your pouty lips will give him his answer, and he merely shakes his head at the confirmation.

You do your best to shut out the sight and scent of the food before you, absorbing instead the discussion so you can note this down properly with just minimal edits needed. You have a lot of documents to work on for the next few days after all, and that’s on top of the file reorganization that Jungkook asked you to do.

It works after you hang on by a thread for two and a half hours, a little earlier than you expected to finish. All you want is to sneak out that croissant and maybe some tarts, too, but your heart breaks when you look up and find the boxes empty.

You let out a sigh, relieved that your boss didn’t hear you because he’s already on the phone and heading out the door. But it’s that same time that a plate of food appears in front of you, and it feels like the gates of heaven have opened. You’re not surprised anymore to find out who it’s from.

“Eat,” Yoongi says from next to you. “I could see your hands shaking from across the table.”

“What about you?” You ask, your lips in a pout once more.

“You know I don’t eat these things,” he shrugs.

He doesn’t, and you know this, too. You also know he called dibs on these earlier, seeing as his staff were quick to get them, and he’d saved these so he could give them to you.

“Ten years later and you’re still trying to make sure I eat, huh?” You say, nudging him with your hips to tease.

“If I don’t, who would?” He responds, walking out of the conference room with you. “You have a bad habit of not doing that.”

“Well, duty calls. What can I do?”

“Take care of yourself even if it’s hard,” he replies.

“Says the man who rarely does it himself,” you chuckle.

“You know, the best advice I give are the ones I don’t actually follow, so disregard the fact that I don’t even do what I say because they apparently work,” he says. “But I mean it, ___. Eat this now.”

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you smile, taking a piece of pastry and eating it in two bites.

Your puffed out cheeks cause him to laugh, and despite still being hungry after this, you suppose it’s enough to not make you faint at this moment.

“And eat a proper dinner, okay?” He follows up.

“I’ll be off late, so I’ll just grab something from the convenience store,” you say. “That’s as proper as I can afford tonight.”

“Aish, fine,” he shakes his head. “But let me get you coffee at least. Those tarts won’t taste as good without one.”

“That would be life-saving,” you dramatically say. “What did I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“Don’t know. I mean, I’m not that great,” he shrugs.

You playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll save the compliments once I have the coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he feigns annoyance, gesturing for you to get back to your desk then walking the other direction.

You take your seat and clean up the document, deciding that you’ll just review the meeting minutes tomorrow so you can get on with other pressing matters. It’s 20 minutes later when Yoongi returns, a tall cup of coffee on one hand and a banana loaf on the other.

“This is all they have left,” he says. “I hope it can last you until tonight.”

“It will,” you smile. ��Thank you again. No one looks out for me here as much as you do. And that means a lot, more than you know. I don’t think I would’ve survived all these years without you.”

“Wow, all because of coffee and snacks,” he laughs, teasing.

“It’s a fair trade. You feed me during my greatest need, I boost your ego,” you tease back.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoongi huffs in submission, but you know he enjoys it.

You’re thankful that after everything that’s happened, you’re still able to maintain the friendship that you created when you were a mere intern and he was just starting out his career.

“Anyway, I’m quickly meeting Jungkook and I need the portfolio of the contemporary arts institution joint project from 2019. It was VP-led so I assume it’s still here? Unless it’s in the archive room,” he continues.

“It’s within five years so it should be here,” you say, turning to the shelf behind you to confirm.

You spot what you need and make the attempt to pull it out but your fingers barely even touch the rack.

“Need help?” Yoongi asks.

“And what help could you give, huh?” You tease again, earning you a playful groan.

“You brat.”

You laugh and pull out the small stool you keep for times like this.

“Just make sure I don’t fall and embarrass myself further today,” you say, climbing up the steps then pulling out the heavy folder.

You feel Yoongi’s arm move from where it was near your waist to over your head, as he lightens the load. You both try to balance it and laugh at your distorted faces in the process, and it’s moments of relief like this one that you’re glad you’re afforded after a long day like today.

From inside the room, Jungkook sees you through the window, your eyes crinkling as you laugh along with Yoongi, head of the design department and one of his very few friends in the company. It catches him off guard, as he realizes that since meeting you last Friday, he’s never seen you laugh, much less smile or even have an expression that isn’t agitated or serious.

He knows that that’s probably on him. He’d spoken ill of you after all, something he regretted once he saw the frustration on your face when you made it known that you were in the room with them and had definitely heard everything he said. But he’d been tired and HR confirmed that he could bring Lucas over as his assistant; CEO Jeon was the one who vetoed that decision.

Jungkook had already mentally prepared himself for the ease of his transition, knowing that he’d be assisted by someone who knows how he works and the quality of outputs he expects, only to come here and be told by his father that the current staff will stay, and that you - someone he’d only heard of as Hoseok’s assistant - will be the one assisting him from now on. Your resume didn’t even impress him.

Jungkook doesn’t like change and when he has to undergo it, he needs as much of what was familiar and convenient to remain; that’s the only bit of control he can have and he hates not being in control of things. You just happened to unluckily be at the receiving end of his anger.

But unlike what he expected, you stood up to him in the subtle ways you could. He’s been so used to people just following him, partly because his way is always the best but also because he commands that respect, and he knows his capabilities enough to know that he deserves it as well. So when you answered back, he felt rattled and just a little bit uneasy. He was unable to backtrack after, but he didn’t really plan to.

That doesn’t mean that he didn’t plan on being a bit of a jerk today, too. He’d been exhausted working over the weekend after going through all the files you gave him that he snoozed his alarm so many times and ended up doing his workout later than he intended. When you rang the doorbell and stood by his door with your skirt and satin top, he suddenly felt lightheaded.

He mentally smacked himself once the thought that your pastel colored outfit brought out your eyes more than the monochrome ensemble from last week floated in his head. He just hated that not only are you thorough with your work, you have to be beautiful, too. He’d never admit to anyone that both of those things make him nervous, and it’s the only reason why he thinks he needs to establish his authority so that he doesn’t get rattled the next time you counter him.

That’s why he demanded more work, which he didn’t intend to take up so much of your time, like your lunch break. He’d seen how your hands shook while you were taking notes during the meeting, prompting him to end the meeting early so you can have something to eat of what he’d bought but he’d left before he could find out if there was anything left for you.

Maybe there wasn’t enough, as he also witnessed Yoongi hand you what seemed like food with coffee that the man also got for you just minutes ago. The smile you gave him was bright and sincere. Jungkook doesn’t think he’d ever see that directed at him, considering how he’d been to you on his first day, but maybe that’s also good; that could be his defense. Maybe it’d help quell that initial attraction that he doesn’t want and cannot allow at all to grow.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t agitate him to see you a bit too close with his friend, because with the way you seem so comfortable and with the way that Yoongi sports that rare smile, it almost feels like there’s something there.

Jungkook is the son of the CEO, and having personal relationships within the company isn’t exactly advisable, but he’d gone to university with Yoongi and their introverted personalities instantly clicked. The older man is perhaps the only non-relative company employee that Jungkook kept in touch with when he was in Singapore, not that he even really talked much to his family outside of work anyway.

But in all the years of their friendship, his friend never mentioned any relationship - nor the makings of one - with another staff member. Jungkook hates how his curiosity is slowly getting to him. Maybe a few more moments would tell him more, but something about the scene happening outside his room is making him nervous and uneasy, so he decides to step in.

“Hey, Yoon,” he says as he opens the door. “Can we discuss now? I have to meet my parents for dinner in an hour.”

Your bubble with Yoongi bursts at the sound of Jungkook’s voice, and you immediately return to your seat. Your friend nods at you then enters the room, leaving you the peace and quiet you need to plop down on the floor for a quick snack of your loaf before going back to work, glancing inside every once in a while to see how the two are going, and perhaps confirm the friendship that you didn’t expect the two would have.

“This building is a good starting point,” Yoongi agrees with Jungkook. “If this is the general feel you want for the Arts Center, I can look into other projects and designs and come up with ideas. I’ll just ask ___ for the files I need.”

“You two seem close,” Jungkook says too quickly.

Leaning back against the chair, Yoongi processes the question that he didn’t expect he’d hear. More than that, he tries to read what’s underneath it, knowing that his friend’s tone of voice and feigned stoic expression mean something more.

“You could say that,” Yoongi replies. “She did say that no one’s looked out for her here as much as I have. And that she wouldn’t have survived all these years without me.”

“So you’re actually friends?”

“Yes.”

“Were you more?”

Yoongi chuckles, the question giving him the answer he’s looking for. Jungkook may often be too serious but he can be transparent sometimes, too.

“Does it matter?” The older man asks.

“Just don’t want to be surprised, that’s all,” Jungkook shrugs. “If there’s an employee relationship happening under my nose, I should at least know.”

“It happens here a lot,” Yoongi responds. “I mean, it gives people something to gossip about but it’s how things are - work sucks sometimes and we want someone to hold at the end of a terrible day.”

Feeling like he won’t get an answer to a question that Jungkook doesn’t know why he felt the need to ask in the first place, he just shakes his head to concede.

But it’s what prompts Yoongi to reply.

“We met when she was just an intern,” he says. “We used to take the same bus then found out we both came from Daegu. Then she was employed and we were both on the logistics team before I was reassigned and she got the EA role.”

Jungkook merely hums, taking in the information.

“I also asked her out before,” Yoongi continues, earning him a surprised look from the younger man. “You just can’t help what you feel sometimes, you know? But she turned me down, said she didn’t want to lead me on because she didn’t feel anything more. She also doesn’t like being involved with a co-worker, so yeah.”

“How are you still friends?”

“Asks the guy who’s still friends with his ex,” Yoongi laughs.

“Chaerin and I are civil, there’s a difference. And we haven’t spoken in years.”

“You loved her, though,” Yoongi counters. “I never got to that point.”

“This isn’t about me,” Jungkook huffs.

Knowing it’s a topic that his friend doesn’t like talking about, Yoongi relents. “I moved on. That was years ago,” he says. “And it seemed like she needed someone. I mean, she’s not from here and her friends aren’t here, either. She appreciated the friendship even if she said she didn’t think she deserved it. I guess that made me really get over her, you know? That’s all she wanted and needed from me; it was better than not having her around.”

“How brave,” Jungkook remarks.

“You mean mature?” Yoongi corrects. “Yes, that’s what I am, and it’s the best I could be for her. Especially since she’s got a boss who makes her miss lunch because somehow, there’s just so much to do for your first day on the job.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jungkook groans.

“I will. Only so you could feel bad.”

“I already do. That’s why I…”

“Bought the pastries,” Yoongi finishes. “I mean, I didn’t order them.”

“Was any even left for her?” Jungkook sighs, remembering how he was internally screaming for you to just get from the box and he’d been the jerk to not offer you some even if it was technically for you.

“Sort of. I put some aside for myself so I could give them to her.”

“You sure you don’t like her anymore?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, an attempt to hide his uneasiness over something he doesn’t understand. He finds you attractive, that’s it. He doesn’t know why his mind searches for more answers.

“You don’t have to like someone romantically to be nice to them, you know?” Yoongi responds. “And she needed it. Heavens know the support she’d need now that she has to deal with your rude ass.”

Jungkook sighs, but the remark is a welcome one because he did tell Yoongi not to treat him differently just because he’s the Vice President now. He also partly agrees. But he sees the effort; his friend wouldn’t call him out for how he does things, so the most he would do is offer help to you. And Jungkook could maybe take advantage of that, as Yoongi stands up to leave.

“Hey, could you, uh, grab dinner for her at the food hall? And not say it’s from me?”

“The food hall’s closed,” Yoongi says.

“The cafe down the street, then?”

“You can’t be fucking serious,” the older man groans.

But Yoongi knows his friend, knows the distance he creates from the people around him, knows his need to have control over everything, including his feelings, and knows the walls he builds because it’s easier to keep others out rather than do the hard task of letting them into a space that’s become comfortable because he’s been the only one inside for so long.

So Yoongi does as he’s asked. He takes the money then heads to the cafe to order pork cutlets and curry. He returns and sets them on your desk to your surprise, and you ask what it’s for.

“Just thought you deserve more than just convenience store instant noodles and gimbap given the day you’ve had,” he says.

“Hey, those are delicious,” you pout, but wanting to melt at how good the rice bowl smells. “But thank you, again. I owe you a lot, Yoongi. I mean it.”

“Just make sure to eat on time so I don’t have to buy your dinner again,” he teases. “I mean it. You have to stay healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile brightly. “Get home safe tonight.”

Jungkook glances out the window and holds back a smile himself at how innocent and genuinely happy you look. There’s this joy that you seem to enjoy to yourself and he sees that, he understands that. And somehow that’s enough to lessen the guilt for now.

He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever see that smile directed at him or if he’d ever want that because of how disarming it is. But seeing it from afar is enough; it’s trivial and short enough to let him bask in it without having to climb out of his walls. He’ll watch you from behind, he thinks. He just wishes he doesn’t push you away in the process.

Series Masterlist

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#jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook series #boss jungkook #boss au #workmates au

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moonchild1 · 9 months

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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)

it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad

seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)

candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)

ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)

the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)

bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)

seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)

bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)

seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)

dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)

drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)

as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi

secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)

moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)

angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)

timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)

full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)

spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)

the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)

redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)

denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)

safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)

the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg

over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)

friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)

blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)

the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)

at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)

pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)

aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)

to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)

live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)

my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)

clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)

to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)

one-shot

devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)

accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)

calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)

college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)

love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)

the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)

what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)

jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3

please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)

boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)

masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)

lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)

this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)

freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)

boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)

wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)

orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)

skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)

blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)

cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)

the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)

take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)

overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

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personasintro · 7 months

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Mutual Help | #14

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

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

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.9k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

The front door is shut with Jungkook's leg, his hands too busy fiddling with your dress as he tries to feel you up through the red material. Your mouths are occupied with kissing each other, tingling from the amazing sensation.

You're not quite sure how this all started.

One minute you were stressing over Hoseok on the way to Jungkook's home, whispering furiously to him so the driver couldn't hear you. The next your pretended boyfriend assured you Hoseok won't be a trouble anymore, shutting you with his mouth before you followed his slow but intense kisses.

"We're in a cab, Kook." you reminded him as soon as he pulled away, not too much though. Just enough to catch a breath before he went for another kiss.

"Relax, he's probably seen a lot worse." he said, not giving you a chance to respond or protest. And you went with it, because your dignity wasn't as important as Jungkook's lips were.

The only time when you weren't kissing was when the driver pulled in front of Jungkook's apartment building, while he paid him and helped you to get out of the car. When he did, his hand stayed placed on your lower back as he ushered you inside. Those five minutes in front of the elevator were intense, you both wondering who's going to make the first move. But as soon as that elevator door opened and you stepped in, Jungkook clicked the button on his floor before you both threw yourselves at each other. Your back collided with the elevator wall and you gasped, giving him a perfect opportunity to sneak his tongue in.

And here you are now.

"Jungkook," you whisper, feeling his breath ghosting against your neck.

"Hm?" he hums, sucking your skin there, the tips of his fingers grazing over your exposed thigh.

"I want you." you mumble, nails tracing his exposed collarbones as you wish he'd just take off the goddamn shirt, so you could see his perfectly tanned and soft skin.

"I want you too." he admits, your heart clenching at those words. It's something how he says it, so effortlessly and honestly. He makes you feel wanted without even realizing it.

He dives back for a kiss, tongue swiping across your bottom lip just to bite down on it. Not too harsh, just enough to make you groan both in surprise and lust. You can taste the little of alcohol he had on his lips, and you're certain your own match to his. Surprisingly, you sobered a bit during the ride, whether it was a shock of Jungkook kissing you in a cab where the driver just pretended he didn't hear your lips smooching against each other, or simply of you getting some fresh air.

Although, you're choosing the first reason.

"I want you to fuck me." you say bluntly, staring at his doe and dark eyes which soaks into your own.

His throat bobs at your words, bottom lip clutched between his teeth before he lets it go. "I wanna fuck you too," he says, "But are you sure? We both drank a bit."

Your senses are a little bit slowed down and if it weren't for Jungkook's mouth, your movements would be way lazier than they're now. But you're nowhere near drunk, knowing exactly what you want. And that is Jungkook fucking you.

"Do I look drunk?"

"No," he answers, but still making sure he keeps his eyes on you, checking your expression. "You're cutely affected by alcohol."

Giggling, you shake your head at him, seeing his mouth spreading to a wide grin. "What does that even mean?"

He takes a step closer to you, caging you between the wall and his body again. You can smell his cologne, wondering how he can smell so amazing after hours of being at the wedding and dancing. He clutches your jaw, surprising you by his rough movements as he turns your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. And you expect him to kiss you there, but he doesn't.

"That means," he starts, licking his bottom lip which you failed to see. "that you've stopped drinking just at the right time. Otherwise, I don't think I'd fuck you if you were drunk, especially if it's our first time."

Our first time.

This man is trying to ruin you, and he's completely clueless about it.

"So, are you planning to do it or are you just going to talk about it?" you ask, almost whimpering when his hold on your jaw tightens. He presses his nose against your jaw, inhaling as he chuckles.

"Keep talking and you're going to regret it."

Your core clenches, breath hitching which he hasn't failed to notice.

"Or what?" you press, stomach bubbling with anticipation of what his answer might be.

"Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I think I'll risk it." you smirk, amused by those darkened eyes that gives you an intimidating look, sending a rush of shivering down your spine but you don't let it show.

Provoking Jungkook has always been fun. Well, you never really provoked him in this kind of situation. But you find yourself feeling much more thrill and fun doing it now. You want to push his buttons, see what kind of exact person he is when he's clouded with lust and excitement. You managed to see a tiny bit of his dominating persona during the time when he went down on you. Maybe it's the natural curiosity that's rooted deeply inside of you, but you just can't wait to see him during sex. He seems like a person who likes to handle others, showing them what he's capable of. Just the thought of him being rough with you makes your legs tremble. Again.

The growl that erupts from Jungkook's throat is unexpected, before you're being turned around by his rough hands, chest colliding with the cold wall of his corridor. He pushes himself against you, hands groping your ass as your own are sprawled against the plain white wall. He gives you a perfect opportunity to feel his hardening length against the black slacks he wears. Your bottom lip is caged between your teeth, a single memory of his cock in your mouth makes you salivate, and it leaves you whimpering.

"I told you not to tempt me," he spits, lips brushing against your right ear. "But you like to disobey just for the sake of your fun, don't you?" he chuckles, but it's not one of those cute and bubbly ones he usually makes. This one's dark, low and amused at the same time.

You've seen so many different sides of Jungkook, but you barely get to see this one. Which is understandable, he's your best friend after all. Best friend who you have never had any sexual encounters with before. But this is different. This is like the same Jungkook you know, but he's like another person at the same time. It's confusing.

"Jungkook," you whimper, pushing your ass against his bulge causing him to chuckle at you.

"Are you being a needy slut for me?" he asks, letting the question settle into the air as he waits for your response.

He tenses behind you, maybe in fear that he crossed the line with you by calling you a slut. You're surprised yourself, and you never liked the whole degrading thing or someone calling you a bitch for pleasure. However, even though he just called you a slut, there wasn't an ounce of actual seriousness or that he meant it literally, despite how serious he sounded.

Just when a whiny and breathless 'yes' leaves your mouth, it's just enough for him to relax and continue with what he started. The tips of his fingers brush against your thigh, hiking up the dress as his hand disappears underneath it. Your whole body shivers automatically, leaving you speechless of how lack of control you've got over your body.

He traces the hem of your lacy panties, humming in appreciation and before you can dwell on how it sends another set of shivers down your spine, he's hooking finger exactly where your clothed heat is. Your body jumps backwards when he touches your clit, tracing your wet heat with gentle and slow movements. Your ass hits his hardening bulge, and this time you get to feel it more prominent and hardened. This turns him on exactly like it does to you.

He groans, teeth nibbling on your shoulder before he circles your clit. "So nice and wet. All for me, baby?"

Your heat clenches, desperate to feel something inside of you. All you can think of is how Jungkook's cock is going to feel inside of you. Is it going to hurt? You remember how you barely took him in your mouth, feeling the corners of your mouth being stretched for a couple of more minutes after you were done. Not that you regret it, it was worth every second.

When the palm of Jungkook's hand meets your ass cheek, you gasp into the wall. He doesn't have to say anything for you to understand what it was for.

"Yes, all for you." you confirm, voice slightly shaking.

Gasping, you moan right after he enters you with one finger kissing your shoulder. He slowly pulls out, before he enters you with slow strokes leaving you gasping all over again. He adds another one, praising you for being a good girl. You clench around him and he chuckles, but doesn't comment on it.

"That's it, gotta stretch you out." he says, voice raspier than before as he adds another one.

He's stretching you more than at the beginning, and you can feel the stretch slightly burn but it doesn't feel bad. You take his fingers well, clenching around his fingers no matter how many times he tells you to relax. You can't, it feels to good and if he continues with the slow strokes, you're cumming soon.

As if he could sense that, he slaps you with his other hand, chuckling when you moan out loud. It's almost too loud, but there's no time to be embarrassed over the fact you like being spanked. He curls his fingers, circling your clit with a thumb while he palms the sensitive flesh of your ass.

"So dirty, I didn't know you love to be spanked so much." he muses, an amused tone laced in his raspy voice.

If your mind weren't clouded with so much lust and eagerness to reach your end, you'd roll your eyes at him and tell him to fuck off. It's nice to know your thoughts are still the same, even when he's fingers deep inside of you.

The feeling of how perfect the pace is isn't long lasting, especially when he picks up his pace and pumps you with his fingers much more eagerly. He praises you each time he thrusts them into you, mainly calling you a good girl or baby.

A simple 'fuck' leaves Jungkook's mouth when he feels you clenching even more, tightening around his three long digits. But still, he manages to keep up the pace just the same, bringing you closer to your end. Just as you feel like that's it, you're cumming, it fades with a snap of fingers in a second. The amazing burn nestled in your womb and between your legs is long forgotten, a sigh of disappointment coming from you in response. It takes you a few seconds to understand what has just happened.

Jungkook pulled out his fingers, causing you to slowly turn around with flushed cheeks and an irritated expression which is understandable. But the young man just grins, slowly bringing his fingers into his mouth as he tastes you.

You gasp, staring at him with mouth agape as his eyes don't leave you.

"Mhm," he almost moans, tongue swirling against his fingers before he pulls them out with a soft pop.

"Why would you stop?" you ask breathlessly.

"I told you not to tempt me. Consider this as your punishment." he shrugs, lips twitching with a hidden smirk which you clearly notice as you huff a breath of annoyance.

"Are you serious?"

Punishments. You never talked about that. Plus, you thought your punishment was him manhandling you and spanking your ass. Now that you think about it, it doesn't make sense.

"Absolutely." he answers confidently.

"But I was about to cum!" you exclaim, not believing he just cut off your orgasm like that. It's called betrayal!

"Oh, I know. I could feel you tightening."

Instead of feeling embarrassed by his blunt words, and the fact your best friend says them to you, you're more annoyed. You were so close. You could feel how bomb orgasm that would be. But no, Jeon Jungcock decides to change that just for pure fun and punishment.

"Whatever. I'll just take care of myself then." you huff once again, making sure he gets a perfect glimpse of your pissed off expression.

You're ready to walk away from him, planning to bump into his shoulder just to emphasize your annoyance. But before you can even take another step, he's grabbing your wrists and pulls you closer to him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks lowly, eyes boring into yours.

You don't let it phase you, although you can't feel your heart jumping at the sudden intimidating tone and look.

"To take care of myself. Since someone decided to punish me." Okay, that was kind of petty but you're pissed.

It pisses you even more when Jungkook snorts, his serious facade cracking as he starts to laugh at you. "Awh, are you mad baby?"

"Don't call me baby. You don't get that privilege anymore." you murmur, causing him to laugh again.

"And what privilege do I get?" he challenges you, cocking his brow at you.

"You can stand behind the door and listen to my moans." you answer dryly, knowing very well that you're not able to make yourself cum just using your fingers. It just won't work for you.

"As tempting as it sounds, I'd rather fuck you." he tells you, slowly reaching for your face before he kisses you. And you let him.

Your lips tingle from the rough kisses he delivers, making sure you feel his want and need towards you. Mind still twirling over the fact he said he wants to fuck you, and no matter how many times he has already said it, it bursts that bubble of arousal inside of you. Maybe it's because you haven't had sex for so long, or maybe because you haven't been touched this way — ever.

It should be weird you're so turned on over your best friend touching you this way, wanting to fuck you. But you're not. All you can think of is how amazing he's going to feel once he's inside of you. Jungkook swallows your every breath, before he's forced to pull away.

Smirking at you, he interweaves your fingers as he leads you towards his bedroom. You take that time to admire his muscular back and broad shoulders, the white shirt doing his body justice, not that he needs it.

Jungkook pushes the door from his bedroom open, leading you straight towards his bed as he turns around before he spins you, gently pushing you down his bed.

You help in surprise, giggling when your body funnily bounces, causing the corner of his lips to turn upwards as a soft chuckle leaves his mouth. He starts to loosen his red tie, eyes focused on you the entire time meanwhile you gulp at the filthy sight in front of you.

Fuck, how can somebody be so hot?

Plopping yourself on your elbows, you watch him taking the tie off but he doesn't throw it like you expect him to. It stays in his hands for a few seconds, twirling it between his fingers as he looks through his cocked brow at you. He tosses it at the end of the mattress, before starting to unbutton his shirt.

Licking your lips, you shamelessly watch him and almost disappointedly whine when he doesn't unbutton nor take it off entirely. If he sees your reaction, he doesn't comment on it but the confident smirk is just enough for you to know he noticed it.

He slowly makes his way towards you, knees plopping himself right next to your legs before he's hovering over you. You tilt your head slightly upwards, enough to see his close features before he kisses you again. This time it's slower, more passionate and leaves you breathless all over again. He urges you to completely lay down, your elbows betraying you as your back and head is met with the mattress again. He sits down on his knees, staring down at you with dark eyes and you almost raise yourself again, but before you can give him a glance of curiosity, you're turned around.

It all happens quick, one second you feel his arms around your waist and the next you're turned over to your stomach. A loud gasp escapes your mouth, your head already turned around to look at Jungkook. He just cockily smirks at you, fingers hovering over the zipper of your dress. He lets his finger scheme over your shoulder blades, gently caressing your exposed skin that makes you shiver underneath his touch.

"Do you really want this?" he asks, voice calm and relaxed like he's not ready to devour you whole.

You notice the sudden change of atmosphere, his tone serious yet soft. He's making sure you really made up your mind. He sees the way you patiently wait for him to touch you, leaving you pressing your thighs together. He's responsible for the ache between your legs. He sees it all, yet he needs to hear you say it again.

"Of course, I do." you answer, making sure you stare into his eyes which is quite troublesome since he's right behind you and caging you with his knees on both your sides.

He doesn't react verbally, all he does in response is slowly unzipping your dress while you press your cheek against his sheets, loving how flowery they smell. The room's temperature isn't low, yet it leaves you shivering when the cold air meets your naked back.

"No bra?" Jungkook questions, not hiding a mere surprise.

"This dress doesn't need it." you breathe out, your voice slightly muffled.

Again, he doesn't react verbally but you're shocked, gasping when he pulls your ass up. It leaves you on all fours, the dress slowly falling down your arms.

"Turn around." he demands, and you obey right away.

He chuckles, not wasting time with undressing you before you're left in your panties and heels. He leaves your dress on the floor, not bothering to properly place it somewhere less dirty, even though Jungkook's home is cleaner than yours. He doesn't care they can crinkle if they're tossed on the floor, and neither is it your priority.

All you can focus on is feeling his hands working on your heels, taking them off before he finally frees your ankles and the tight strap around it. Once he's done, he hovers over you again, pressing his lips against your stomach and slowly making his way up your chest. Your perked nipples don't go unnoticed by him, his doe eyes looking up at you before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Arching your back, you gasp while he swirls his tongue against it. The other one is occupied by his hand, molding the soft flesh in his huge palm. He does the same thing to the other one, his lips reddened when he's done. Your nipples look just the same, reddened with the attention they just received while still covered in his saliva. You shiver, meeting his eyes as he licks his lips.

You lean forward, kissing him while your arms wrap around his neck pulling his body even closer to yourself. He grunts into your mouth, arms holding himself as he tries not to crash you with his weight. Legs wrapped around his waist, you thrust your hips upwards making the two of you gasp. He's already getting hard, the bulge in his black slacks says it all.

You're remembered by the fact he's still fully dressed and you don't like that. Your hands already work on their own, unfastening his belt and zipper with needy and quick movements.

Jungkook's smirk is evident against your lips, but he doesn't comment on your sudden eagerness, if anything, he seems to like it as he lets you take off his slacks. He helps you take them fully, meanwhile your fingers work on his shirt. You've never hated buttons before. Just like with the slacks, he helps you take off his shirt too and slides it off his arms exposing his abs and buffed chest.

If you were turned on before, you're completely salivated over him now. He tosses it behind him, hitting the desk in the corner of his room making you giggle. He chuckles, hovering over you again before he's kissing you. You take that chance to feel his muscular back, nails gently scratching his soft skin as he grunts into your mouth.

"I want to—" he kisses you again, "fuck me." you finish, hands slowly sliding down his perky ass.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asks, and you cock your head in confusion.

He's asking you that now? Again? You thought you're pretty clear that you want him. But once he sees your confusion and that cute frown you're about to sport, he explains himself.

"No, I meant— shouldn't I stretch you out more?"

Ah, he means that.

"Don't flatter yourself, Jeon. You're not that big."

Oh, yeah he is. Definitely bigger than your ex. But who would you be if you didn't take the opportunity to bruise his male ego.

"Really?" he asks, his brows mockingly shooting up. "Weren't you choking on my cock just a few days ago?" he cocks his head innocently, but you see his fake facade.

He's enjoying this, even when you open your mouth and dryly swallow the lump in your throat.

"Fuck, you're so cute when you're getting flustered." he comments, laughing while he scrunches his nose.

Rolling your eyes, you decide it's better not to argue with him. You know he's right about you choking on his cock, you're not stupid. "Whatever," you murmur.

"And to answer your question, no. Just fuck me, I'm ready." you assure him, licking your lips while he eyes you.

He nods, reaching towards the nightstand before he opens the first drawer. He pulls out the foil package and rips it open. Since you're feeling bold tonight, you reach for his length, hand disappearing in his boxers where you finally feel him. He bites onto his lower lip, taking them off while you start to pump him. He's hardening with each pump, kissing you as your hands work their magic on him.

He pulls away and you watch him putting on a condom.

The sight of him doing something so intimate feels exactly that. Intimate, close and exhibit. You've never thought nor imagined you'd ever get this close to him. This is so new to you, just thinking that he's about to have sex with you drives you crazy. You've never thought you'd crave for him this certain way.

Of course, there were many times when your heart was craving for him. In a friendly way when you were in desperate need of a friend. But it wasn't just that. You needed him, Jungkook. No matter how many girl friends you've or can have, nothing ever compares to him. There were times when you felt like you're the one who needs your friendship more than him. You don't doubt Jungkook's friendship, of course not. It just often felt like it's you who values your friendship in more ways than Jungkook could ever imagine. Maybe that's why it hurt when he moved on with Kiko and barely got the time to text you, or even spend time with you.

Jungkook's fingers trail to your exposed legs, snapping you out of your thoughts. It's unreal how he brings you back to reality with a single touch, those soft but dark eyes of his dancing on your face.

"It's still not too late to back out," he tells you softly, caressing your skin like he's not talking about the possibility of ending this. "If you've got any doubts, maybe this isn't what we should do."

"Are you regretting getting this far, Jeon?" you ask, your voice neutral, yet the use of his surname comes out almost cold.

His eyes flicker to yours right away and he quickly shakes his head, before he allows himself to talk. "No, of course not. I want this, if you couldn't tell." he snorts at the end, looking down to his hard length that's pressing against his stomach.

Focus, Y/N!

You look back at him, poking your inner cheek with a tongue before you sigh. "We both already did some intimate things. Don't you think that if I wanted to back out, I wouldn't allow all those things to happen?" you ask him softly, eyes filled with curiosity and a small frown settling on your brows.

"I'm just making sure," he mumbles, dropping those dark eyes for a moment while you're met with Jungkook that looks completely innocent. "I don't want you to regret anything. This is our friendship we're talking about. That's the most important thing."

If you weren't so freaking horny, you'd probably tear up from the honesty and softness of his words. He really is thoughtful.

"I want this, Kook. I don't think this will change our friendship. If me sucking you off and you eating me out hasn't, I don't think us having sex will. We're just young adults who need to blow some steam off, let's not overthink it too much."

He nods, agreeing with you as he bites his lower lip in thought. "Okay, because you're my best friend but you're fucking attractive and hot. And all I can think about is fucking you." he admits bluntly, causing you to gasp at his sudden words but you giggle.

You trace your hand down his chest, appreciating how firm it feels. "Good," you gulp, "Because that's all I'm thinking about right now."

Jungkook grunts, hovering over you before he kisses you again. His mouth works quick and needy, nibbling on your bottom lip to show you his desire while you're trying not to moan. It's almost pathetic how quick he makes you be so responsive and loud.

"Ready?" he asks between the kisses, his hand going between his legs as he pumps himself.

You can feel your heart in the throat, this feeling awfully similar to your first sex. That excitement and the feeling of experiencing something new, even though it's just sex. Minus the awkwardness and nervousness, of course. You really wonder how he's going to feel. Something tells you he's perfect in bed, no doubts. Just him eating you out made you see stars and brought one of the best orgasms you've ever experienced.

"Ready." you tell him, breath hitching in your throat as soon as you feel his tip parting your folds.

He takes his time, not entering you right away but making sure he smears the wetness between your legs to your clit and his tip. He stares down, brows pinched together and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, looking focused and almost as if he's savoring every moment.

Eyes flickering to yours, he releases his bottom lip as he spreads your legs wider. Giving him a soft smile, hand placed over his beating hard, you're surprised how fast it beats. It matches your own heartbeat, but somehow it leaves a peaceful feeling inside your heart. It's nice to know he's affected as much as you are.

With a careful and slow push, he enters you for the first time, taking into account that it's been awhile since you've had sex. The last thing he wants is to rush and possibly hurt you, just because he's impatient and horny.

Swallowing down the gasp that wants to escape from the back of your throat, you close your eyes and try to relax as much as possible. Luckily, Jungkook seems to be patient and he's still trying to fill you up at an incredibly slow pace. He even stops, checking your reactions with each push and inch he makes.

"Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you." he groans, but still manages to sound soft and genuine. It takes a lot for him not to thrust into you.

Jungkook hasn't been sexually active with anyone, the last person he had sex with was Kiko, his ex-girlfriend. That means you're not the only one who's been without sex for quite some time, even though Jungkook wasn't left high and dry for that long.

"I know." you breathe out, reacting to Jungkook's words. You know all of that, but the sudden stretch and slight burn you feel is unavoidable. There's nothing you can do and your body just has to get used to it.

Although, it seems like Jungkook wants to help when he starts to circle your clit. You suck in breath, your walls relaxing and taking more of him almost immediately.

"That's it," he praises you, continuing with it until he's all nestled inside of you.

He holds himself, still careful not to crash you underneath his weight as he lets you get used to him inside of you. It feels weirdly new, almost as if you forgot how dick inside of you feels like.

"You took me so well." he grunts, his length twitching inside of you before he gives you a sheepish look, like he's apologizing for being so needy and greedy.

"Fuck me, Kook." you murmur, your walls clenching around his thick length as he opens his mouth at the feeling. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer as you feel the ends of his soft yet thick hair.

"I'm gonna go slow at first, okay?" he asks, although you both know he wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you tried to argue with him, you don't because his reason and decision is understandable and all about you, he'd still do it his way to make sure you're comfortable.

Nodding, he's pulling out of you, a soft breathes leaving his mouth before he slowly pushes his cock inside you. He's restraining himself so much, his face twisted in almost painful expression. Legs wrapped around his frame, heels digging into his lower back, you pull him even closer causing him to get even deeper inside of you.

"You're not making this any easier, you know that?" he chuckles, shaking his head as he still continues with his soft and slow thrusts.

Your giggle is short-lived, especially when his length rubs around a very sensitive spot inside of you, a moan rippling out of your mouth. He stops, adjusting himself before he does it again.

"Stop," you gasp, causing him to freeze and look at you. "I don't wanna cum yet."

"Would you cum right away if I continued?" he asks curiously.

In other situations, you'd probably cackle at the fact you're having a full conversation during your sex. But all you can do is nod in embarrassment.

"Well, maybe not right away but I was getting there." you point out, causing him to chuckle amusingly at you. It causes you to slap his back but he doesn't seem to be too phased, your weak attempt to scold him doing no harm.

"Do you want me to stay still like this or...?" he trails off, causing you to snort at the absurd situation.

You can't believe you're about to laugh in the middle of sex, but Jungkook's distressed expression is priceless.

"No," you laugh, "just fuck me already."

He relaxes, even though he tries to hide it, before he gives you one of his famous grins. "Your wish is my command."

Before you can snort or react in any way at his funny words and the teasing tone, he's already pulling out before he smacks his hips back. It leaves you breathless, almost knock all the oxygen out of your lungs as he repeats the same process over and over again. Your heated skin meets his with each thrust, creating swift and rhythmic melody and just when you think it can't get better, he lifts your legs up and places them over his shoulders.

"Fuck," you breathe out, ignoring the cocky smirk he tries to hide again by staring at your connected bodies.

He fucks you like no one ever has, bringing you an euphoric feeling that you can't seem to get enough of. It feels too good to be real and embarrassingly enough, you've never known that sex could feel this amazing. Jungkook's skills are over the top, triumphing over your ex in all ways. However, with Jungkook's unstoppable thrusts there is no time to think about your ex or anyone else.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well, baby." Jungkook groans above you, head falling between your shoulder and neck, burying his face there.

You shiver, feeling his body pressed against you, his hot skin against your makes the whole atmosphere even more intimate. Years of knowing him, you've never felt this close to him.

"Jungkook," you moan, eyes rolling back when he purposely rub his length against that one sensitive spot he found minutes ago.

He knows what he's doing, and you can perfectly feel that little smirk he always has on his lips but surprisingly, he gives a peck to your neck before he pulls away.

"Can you get on all fours?" he asks, halting his thrusts as you whine.

You were just getting there.

But Jungkook isn't planning on ending anytime soon and when he sees your disappointment, he laughs at you. "Come on, on all fours and ass up." he tells you, your cheeks heating up at the demanding tone he sets.

He pulls out, leaving you empty and greedy for him. Obeying him quickly, you get on all fours as he requested and you yelp when he presses your back down. It causes your cheek to be pressed against his mattress again, his palm staying on your back for a couple of more seconds before he grabs your hips. He lifts your ass even more, your spine and back arched all for him. He palms your ass, grabbing the flesh into his huge hands before he's entering you all over again.

You gasp, clutching the sheets in small fists and when Jungkook notices this, he reaches for them and interweaves his fingers with yours. His chest is pressed against your back while he starts pounding into you at a completely new pace.

"Jungkook, ah—" you whine, your voice awfully whiny and soft to the point you can't recognize it.

"I know, I know." he grunts, tightening his hold on your fingers as you can feel your walls tightening around his thick and throbbing length.

"Fuck—so good." you moan out, shutting your eyes because you can feel them watering.

"You're gripping me so well," he rasps out, not halting his movements even a bit. "Gonna make you cum so hard." he promises, his small dirty talk causing you to moan again.

His balls slapping against your ass feels euphoric, just like everything right now, and it leaves you breathless and wanting to reach your end. Couple of more thrusts, Jungkook's soft grunts and his length brushing against your g-spot brings you the most incredible orgasm.

Mouth agape, Jungkook's unstoppable thrusts make you cry out his name as you're cumming around him. He fucks you through it, continuing even when you're growing sensitive and you whine at the overstimulation.

"I know, I know. I'm getting there." he grunts, hands grabbing your hips so tight that you're guessing they'll probably bruise later but you don't seem to care.

Clenching around him, it takes a few more pumps before Jungkook suddenly halts his movements and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. He's cumming, filling the condom with his seed and you wish you could feel him more.

And fuck, if Jungkook's low groan of pleasure isn't the hottest thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is.

And even though you've just come down off your high, the sound is enough to shoot a little bit lust straight to your core. Enough to leave you clench around him again, causing him to grunt in response.

His sweaty forehead drops against your naked shoulder, a shallow and quick breaths meeting your skin as he tries to calm himself down. It takes him a few more seconds of breathing in and out at a rapid pace, before his breathing comes back to normal and he slowly lifts his head off you.

"You good?" he asks, holding himself up with his hands when he realizes he almost crushed you with his heavy body.

You don't see him, but he scrunches his nose when he pulls out of you, overstimulation getting overwhelming for the both of you. When he manages to fully pull out, he quickly gets off you and plops himself next to you. You flip yourself on your back, eyes focused on the white ceiling as your chest heaves with almost identical heavy breaths like he did just seconds ago.

"I'm perfect," you answer breathlessly, stealing a glance at your best friend who happily lays down next to you, discarding the used condom. "Are you good?" you ask him in return, watching him grin as he ties the used condom full of his sperm.

"Oh, I'm ecstatic." he beams, standing up and throwing the condom in the bin near his desk.

"Are you always this ecstatic when you get laid?" you chuckle, trying not to let your eyes drop to his crotch that he doesn't even cover. He's shameless, walking completely naked to you while he doesn't even try to cover himself. It's not like you want him to anyway, but he clearly doesn't have any issue with nudity.

"It's been a long time, okay?" he jokes, tossing his body next to you without care, causing the mattress to jiggle under his weight. "Don't tell me you don't think the sex was mind blowing."

He looks at you, eyes dropping to your perked nipples before he looks back into your eyes.

"It was." you shrug, admitting it.

He chuckles, turning onto his side as he traces your lips. It catches you off guard, but you don't even blink while you try to look as natural as possible. You look at him, his hand dropping next to his body.

"This doesn't change anything, right? Our friendship, I mean."

You've to ask him, just to be sure. At first, you were the one who tried to convince him that none of this would affect your friendship.

His brows scrunch together for a short moment before he shakes his head. "No, I don't think so. Do you feel like something changed?" he asks back.

"I don't, but what if I will?" you ask, probably more yourself than Jungkook.

What if everything seems just the same right now but yesterday or in a few weeks, you'll feel like you shouldn't have done that? There's no turning back and you really don't want to regret anything. It's just your mind playing tricks on you. This is your friendship that could possibly be on the line after all.

"Then you'll tell me. I don't think there's nothing we can do. We both agreed to it and it doesn't have to be such a big deal." he shrugs, his voice putting at least some kind of ease to your nerves.

"I know that, I know that we both agreed to it. I really don't wanna sound like I'm already regretting it, because I don't. I don't want you to think that it's your fault or make you feel guilty. That's not my intention at all. It's just... I can't help but wonder if we did the right thing. What if this will fire back in a few weeks, months or years even?"

Your eyes are focused on the ceiling, despite feeling Jungkook's doe eyes silently watching you.

"I think you're overthinking this a lot. Let's just focus on the present. We don't have to have sex anymore. I told you, anything that makes you comfortable." he tells you honestly and softly, causing you to feel like a jerk for some reason.

You're stressing over something nonexistent while Jungkook is there for you and your crazy mind.

"I didn't say that. I still wanna have sex." you point out, causing him to snicker.

When you look at him, you can see the confident and cocky glint in his eyes. That's why you nudge his shoulder, snorting. "Shut up."

He laughs, slowly shaking his head. "Just don't fall in love with me. I know that I can be very irresistible but—"

"Oh, get over yourself, Jeon." you scoff, sitting up as you give him a perfect view of your rolling eyes.

He grins at you, hand touching your exposed back as he caresses your skin. "Never." he jokes, causing you to shake your head at his absurdity.

You just hope the next morning will be just as relaxed like this very moment is. You don't want your friendship to be ruined by lust.

But you'll have to wait until the morning comes.

#networkbangtan #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook smut #bts series #jungkook series #jungkook fake dating #personasintro

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httpknjoon · 2 months

Text

surprise, surprise | jjk

plot | When you asked what your boyfriend wants for Valentine's, Jungkook challenged you to surprise him. But when you did, he wasn't the only one surprised.

words | 2.1k+

genres | fluff, secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

warnings | none

note | another part will follow :)) enjoy reading!

main masterlist | drabble series masterlist

It was a late afternoon, during a warm sunny day, you and your boyfriend finally went on with your picnic plans after weeks of talking about it. Under a lush shade tree, Jungkook laid out your classic red gingham picnic blanket. He also has pillows from his place, knowing that you would love to have one while chilling. On the flip side, you brought out the food from your basket which includes various colorful sliced fruits, sandwiches, chips, orange juice, and a bottle of chocolate syrup if ever your boyfriend wants to put it on his fruit.

It has been past an hour since you arrived at this spot in the park, half an hour away from the city you and Jungkook live in. So, with no worries about seeing your friends around, you two were free to basically do whatever you wanted on the grass. Jungkook brought his digital camera and you were already sure that half of the photos he took today are Bam’s. You were just giggling when you saw Jungkook trying to make your pet stand still with his green toy ball and sounds he learned from The Dogist, a dog photographer who posts every dog he meets online.

“One more, Bam. Stay…” he commanded as he closed his left eye to focus on his camera’s viewfinder.

Your pet, eager to have a treat and his toy, heeded. Followed by a shutter sound, you hear a satisfied chuckle from your boyfriend. He handed Bam a treat and then threw the ball for your pet to run after.

“How was it?” you asked, sipping on your glass of orange juice.

Jungkook turned around in your direction and instead of answering immediately, you found him staring at you. Used to him dazing out sometimes, you just smiled and took another gulp from your glass. Jungkook took this opportunity to point his camera lens to you. He moved around, finding the best angle where the light makes you glow from your greenery background. You were an angel before his sight. He clicks for your candid shot. When you hear the first shutter sound, you realize what he is doing.

“Wait! Take another one.”

This time, you smiled for the camera, making him smile behind the lens. After a couple more shots, he sat next to you to show you the results. By the small sound of awe you made, he knew you loved them.

“You’re such a great photographer, babe,” you told him.

“I just have a very beautiful muse,” he replied.

You looked up at him and he laughed when he saw your eyebrows scrunching together. Perhaps it was too corny and sweet. But your scrunched expression softened up before giving him a peck on his lips. He was about to lean in for more but you pulled away with a smile.

“You used to get girls with those lines?” you teased and laughed.

And before Jungkook can defend his game, Bam runs back with his toy in between his teeth. Half an hour passed, and the camera was now in your hands while Jungkook lay his head on your lap, scrolling through his phone. Bam is napping on the grass beside you two, tired from playing. The weather was not too hot since there was still wind blowing from time to time, perfect for a midday nap. With no more energy to take pictures, you settled his camera down. For the next few minutes, you spent the time running your fingers on Jungkook’s hair and appreciating the peace of the place. You can feel your heart feeling at ease.

“I can’t believe we’re already in the second month of this year,” your boyfriend suddenly spoke, eyes still glued on his phone.

“I know, babe. It seemed like yesterday when we celebrated New Year’s Eve at Dara’s and our anniversary,” you replied. “Then, we told Blaire about us.”

He put down his phone with that, looking at you, “We didn’t tell her, you did.”

You just rolled your eyes since you know you cannot really defend yourself. You were too drunk that night, Jungkook had to tell you what you shared with your friend the morning after. And after a whole-day conversation with Blaire, she agreed to not say anything about it and simply called you two “sneaky rats” in a teasing way.

“Anyway, Valentine’s Day is next week.” Jungkook brought up the topic, sitting up. “Do you want to do anything or go anywhere?”

“Well… we already did this picnic.” you clicked your tongue as your eyes traveled away, thinking.

And after a few seconds, an idea pops into your head. An activity you saw online that you found cute and perfect for you two. You beamed as you told him about it. Jungkook nodded as he listened intently, eyes traveling down his tattooed knuckles.

“I love that, we can do that! That’s wonderful, princess.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. “Do you already have any ideas about the design?”

You shook your head, “Oh, not yet.”

“Okay, okay.” he nods again,

You squeeze his hands, “How about you? What do you want to do?”

He looked up at the leaves on the tree as he sighed, “I don’t know… Really. That’s why I asked you. What you want is what really matters to me.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Really? Nothing?”

He nodded his head but not a second after, he spoke again, “Okay, I have an idea.”

“Okay, spill.”

“Surprise me,” he said like it was a challenge.

“Surprise you?” you repeated.

Looking back at your relationship, you were a little weak at doing surprises. You cannot really lie well and always see his reaction when you get him something meant for a surprise. But maybe you can try again.

“Okay, babe.”

“Isn’t this sad?” Wooshik sighed in between the film playing on the television. “It’s the day before Valentine’s. We are both single straight guys, watching Meryl Streep boss around people because we don’t have any plans tomorrow,” he added.

I do, Jungkook said in his head. Today is the thirteenth. It has been days since you two went on that picnic and he has been secretly waiting for your surprise. You didn’t want to give him a spoiler about it since you both know how bad you are at lying. So, you didn’t give him even a single clue.

And since it’s the day before that day, you and the girls in your friend group went out for your Galentine’s Day. You told him your activities for the day, which included going to a baking class and pampering yourselves in hair and nail salons. So, in return, he and Wooshik are pretty much shooed away when the latter begs to come with them.

“It’s for girls only! Go hang out together,” Jenny laughed.

So, they did. Initially, they planned on playing video games in Jungkook’s place. But after two hours of playing and having succeeding losses, they got exhausted and opted to watch a movie. The streaming service recommended a lot of chick-flicks so that’s what they settled for.

“This is fine. The girls are single too. A lot of people are spending tomorrow single.” he noted, focused on the film.

But Wooshik exclaimed, “But love is in the air! I don’t want to be lonely. Maybe we should pull up at a bar or something. Maybe we can have dates tomorrow.”

“I told you, I’m not into those things anymore.”

“Those things?! It’s called dating, JK. So you’re not into dating now?” Wooshik asked his tone in disbelief. Jungkook just laughed at his dramatic reaction. His friend continued, “What happened to my friend who used to introduce me to his new girlfriend every two weeks?”

Jungkook tossed him a pillow, smacking it right to his face, “Hey, people change!”

“You used to hold the record for most partners in a year in our friend group, JK.” Wooshik snickered.

“And now, I don’t. I’m happy where I am right now.”

“Blablabla. That’s something a person with a great high-paying job or a nice love life would say. And I don’t think your job pays you that high for you to say that.” Wooshik quipped while watching the movie again.

Jungkook laughs. He’s right. But Wooshik is not aware of how fun he is having with you. Your friend doesn’t know how much you made his life more than nice. You made his days a lot more warmer and brighter than it has ever been.

“And the girls are not really single. Jenny said she will be busy tomorrow–”

“She is. She works as a head chef in a restaurant. Tomorrow is like a festival in her workplace.” Jungkook cuts him off.

His friend snickered, “Okay, but she’s going on an occasional date with that same guy she met at a food convention. Blaire is having an on and off and on relationship with Grace. Dara is dating–”

“She is?” Jungkook asked.

Wooshik nods like it’s something he has known for a long time, “Yeah… and YN, I just know that one is seeing someone.”

Something in his stomach dropped when Jungkook heard that, “Yeah?”

“Remember when I stayed for like a week in her house when I had something renovated in my place? I swore I saw her sneaking out a guy one early morning.” his friend shared, clueless about the guy who was now sitting in front of him.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah, I just didn’t see him properly since the lights were off. But I heard YN talking to him.”

Yeah, it’s him.

Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Jungkook said, “You know what? Maybe we should go out.”

It’s like Wooshik’s ears perked up when heard that, “Where?”

“Just out. Maybe get something to eat or… I saw this new bowling alley opening up around the corner. We can walk there from here.”

Originally, Jungkook wanted to take you there first. But with his best friend being bored and talking about you and your relationship, he just thought of going to that place.

“Oh, okay. Maybe fate can find me a date there.”

Jungkook chuckled, getting up, “Okay, I’ll just take a quick shower. Then, we can go.”

Wooshik nodded and Jungkook walked away. Left alone in the living room, Wooshik reached for the almost-finished bowl of chips on the center table. He rarely watched chick flicks but he really liked this one. Maybe because of the lead actress. But nonetheless, he enjoys the story.

“I just don’t get why she has to leave her great job for Nate. I mean, he did not even support her when she was having growth in her work and she was in Paris!” Wooshik exclaimed as the screen showed Anne Hathaway walking away from her boss, portrayed by Meryl Streep.

The credits were rolling in when he heard the knock on the door. He was about to call his friend when he heard the distant trickling from his shower. Wooshik got up and opened the door, dusting off the cheese powder from the chips. A delivery guy stood in front of the door, holding a box of pretty flower arrangements.

“Delivery for Jeon Jungkook.” the guy said.

Confused, Wooshik had his mouth slightly open before answering, “Oh… uh, he’s in the shower. But I can receive this for him.”

“Okay. Please, sign here.”

The guy handed him a paper and Wooshik followed. After the flowers were handed to him, he said thank you and closed the door. His eyes scanned the whole arrangement filled with various flowers. A white folded card sat on top of it. As he carefully placed it down on the table, one question stayed in his head.

Who the hell would send flowers to his best friend?

So just like what any nosy, curious person would do, Wooshik flicked the card open.

Blooms for the best person I know.

I was with B in the flower shop and he helped me pick the flowers. I hope you’ll love them.

Know that this is the first of other surprises I’ve planned for tomorrow ;)

But firstly, let me ask you for the first time,

Babe, will you be my Valentine?

-Princess

Princess? Who the hell is Princess? Who is B? Is B a person? Did his friend have a baby and didn’t know it?

“Hey, let’s g– Oh, where did that come from?”

Jungkook came in, hair damp. His eyes land on the bouquet of flowers. Wooshik is frozen in place. His hand is still holding the card as he stares at him.

His eyes gradually squinted, “Who is Princess, and why is she sending you flowers?”

TAGLIST (closed)

@hobiuwusunshine @alinerl @bbangtanlove95 @daydreamiies @craftymoonchaos @awseokjin @yoonabeo @luvrsofbts @hisbutton-nose @bloopkook @chvngbiin @takochelle @wildarmy @cuddlysoftbear @luv-minhyun-world @shydestinyyouth @bbtsficrecs @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @jkbabiey @hopeworldjimin @chieftoadturkeynickel @ppeachyttae @tannies-luv @loomipee @sanctify-mp3 @stuffy16 @laylasbunbunny @di0rgguk @tswisal1 @amara-mars @jksgirlhere @callmejimmeo @rapmonie2047 @petalsofink @daemontargaryenwhore @juju-227592

#bts fluff #bts series #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts secret relationship au #bts established relationship au #bts friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook secret relationship au #jungkook established relationship #jungkook friends to lovers #our little private love affair

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solecize · 2 months

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jungkook x reader 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. swearing 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up.

part one: the storm, the envelope and the granddaughter ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ next. masterlist

i. the storm

for the first time in a long time, your eyes flutter open to the golden curtains of the sun and not the blaring noise of a royalty-free iphone alarm. the rays are harsh and welcoming all at once, as you blink away the stinging sensation and adjust to the muddy path ahead. there was no mistake about it, the town withstood an unforgiving storm last night. however, mud coating the wheels of your bus seemed to be the only indication, as you became distracted with the kiss of summer from the skies above and the clear cerulean painted across cotton candy clouds.

memories of amber valley became bygone over the years, as memories always do. but, amber valley seemed to be a long lost chase you haven’t won in years and the older you became, the town disappeared entirely. it was like the smell of your favourite scented markers and the feeling rumbling at the pit of your stomach on the first day of school - nothing but faint ideas from your childhood.

“we’re not going to visit grandpa this summer?”

at age twelve, you couldn’t fathom missing out on the midsummer festival or being away from your horse, marshmallow. for that age, absolutely everything felt like the end of the world, whether it was missing an episode of your favourite show or not getting an invite to a classmate’s sleepover. it was a little different for you, though, as you looked at your dad’s dull eyes. they’d been dull since the divorce went through that february. they never shone since and that’s how you knew things weren’t going to be the same.

he shook his head at you, but never met your eyes. “no, i’m sorry. he’s coming up for to the city at the end of july, though - “ it would be later in life, precisely at age 25 and months removed from your grandfather’s funeral, when you would learn that he only began coming up to the city to regularly see a hepatologist, “ - so you can see him on your birthday.”

you did, in fact, see grandpa for your birthday and for the rest of the years to come. he laughed with his whole body and his smile never failed to reach his eyes when he gave you updates on the farm and amber valley. grandpa did his best, but time passing came with you losing your bright eyes whenever he spoke fondly of his town. it was inevitable, when the big city enveloped your teenage self and you became more concerned with interests that come with the turn of youth - clothes, parties and boys.

now, there was absolutely nothing wrong with any of those ideas. you stood by this at heart, embracing femininity and defending it alongside your love for science and life. you grew up and began wearing high heels to dates, to university lectures and finally, to your 9-5 on the busiest corner of your city’s financial district. you had long outgrown your riding boots, likely tucked away at the back of your closet in your studio apartment. you began just politely smiling and nodding when your grandfather shared local amber valley gossip about individuals who were just names to you now, also tucked away at the back of your mind.

even though you eventually grew past the age where you needed your parents’ permission to make the trek over to amber valley, past the period of time where your mother refused to speak to your father to coordinate your trip to see your grandfather, the idea of returning to the valley never crossed your mind. like summer camp, it was something you thought you didn’t need anymore and preferred spending your school-less months with your friends in your hometown, working away at your first part-time job and getting your first ever drivers’ license. a seventeen year old city girl wouldn’t want to waste her summer at her grandfather’s old farm.

“mrs. oh’s husband just left the valley for his deployment overseas. may god watch over that family.” it was one of the last times you saw grandpa, late on christmas eve when everyone else went to bed. your mom, her new husband and your little sister had bade their goodnight’s by 10pm and left the two of you sipping honey lemon tea by the fireplace.

your mom’s new husband made a lot of money. that was one of the first things you noticed about him and it was so different from the two bedroom inner city apartment you were raised in. it was certainly different from your grandpa’s farmhouse, where the television only got three channels and all of the windows never fully opened because they would fall apart entirely if you pulled too far. you and your grandpa mused these thoughts on their white leather couch, when the conversation slowly moved back to how the old farm was going.

you tried to sound interested. “oh really?” the reality was you couldn’t remember if the oh family was the one that ran the general store or the one couple who seemed to be constantly fighting, on the verge of divorce.

grandpa grunted in response. “mhm. thankfully, they have jungkook helping out around the store. ah, the wasted potential with that boy, but such a kind heart.”

“jungkook..?”

“oh, you remember him! the two of you would always bike by the beach,” he said. “i’ll never forget, you two would always come back and show me the seashells you collected that day. always made a competition out of everything.”

he chuckled and you joined in, hiding the despondence for being unable to recall. grandpa didn’t seem to notice, though, continuing to discuss amber valley. cranberries and pumpkins were the strongest crops of the fall, mayor kim was re-elected for a third time and something about the town soon getting their first chain convenience store since amber valley’s founding. then, grandpa’s face lost his smile and a serious expression formed on his ageing features. he asked you about your job and how life was for you.

by now, you’re 22 and working an entry-level position with nothing but a bachelor’s in your pocket and a hunger to climb the corporate ranks. like any fresh college graduate, there was no meaning to life if it weren’t for paying overpriced rent, mimosa sundays, dating apps, and maybe remembering to go to the gym every now and then. the life you lived was loud from city traffic and heavy from looming student debt.

“my job is..okay. i’m just starting out and i’m really just trying to do my best,” you replied.

grandpa, still with a serious look, placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “it gets stressful, doesn’t it?”

you opened your mouth to respond again, but failed to find your voice this time. your stress was found in a growing caffeine addiction and getting too tired to give your parents a call on the weekends. adulthood was everything you expected and nothing you expected. you secured a job that you dedicated four years of studies to and just like that, was pushed into a world of hustle and bustle and nothing in between. once this realization settled, you tried to hide it by cracking a faint smile. grandpa saw through it, though - he always did.

“well, darling, if it ever does get too stressful..” you became confused when grandpa reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. he handed it to you and you turned it over, finding no writing other than your name in your grandfather’s decorative penmanship.

you asked, “what is this, grandpa?”

he finally smiled again, but shook his head. “a gift. it’s yours for when you find that you need a break from the challenges of life.”

grandpa only gave gifts from the heart. only, this time, you wouldn’t know that he was giving you his entire heart and soul. you had taken this envelope and slid it in the drawer of your desk at home, where you tirelessly worked after hours, even after returning from the office. it was hidden away, but always poked your curiosity at the back of your mind. however, you restrained from opening it, even when it eventually became one of the last things you had from grandpa.

ii. the envelope

the only time you took the pristine envelope out of your desk was on the day of his funeral.

it was no surprise that grandpa wanted to be buried in amber valley, his home for over fifty years and his birthplace. it was once your heart’s home, too, once upon a time when you were a child skipping rocks by the town river and rode your horse through mustard-hued sunflower fields. for that, you were nervous to return and confront the realities of your coming of age in the face of a town that only lived in your memories, sickeningly reminding you of the years that have gone past.

wedged between your mother and father who had only began speaking to one another as of three years ago, you stared blankly at the onyx coffin that, in about 20 seconds, was gone from your sight and lowered into the ground. it happened all too quick. you clenched your arm tighter, squeezing the envelope tucked underneath and protecting it from the rain. your very last summer in the valley was marked by constant rain and wind and once again, you greet the town amidst storms.

the drive was quick, having gone directly to service after the three hour drive from the city. you couldn’t make much of the town through the gloom and suddenly, the valley was so much colder than you remember. like your being since your grandfather’s passing, it lost its colour. it was unwelcoming and felt like a punishment for your neglect over the years. amber valley was unforgiving as much as it was perfection.

you couldn’t make out much of the attendees through the gloom, either. many of them appeared absolutely devastated, sobbing and cold-faced at the goodbye of a beloved neighbour. your grandfather was always well-liked amongst the townspeople, helping out his friends with mundane tasks whenever he had free time away from the farm and shared his warm personality at community events. this was affirmed through the stories that were shared about him at the service, recognizable for his distinct good heart, but seemed so far away for you, having detached yourself from amber valley.

“oh, an unfamiliar face! what’s your name, dear?” a man around your father’s age with salt and pepper hair was handing out hor d'oeuvres at the post-service gathering in the church basement. he seemed to be the most upbeat one in the room - though, it wasn’t saying much, considering the occasion.

you told him your name, while looking around for either one of your parents. being in a room of strangers wasn’t your favourite activity, especially following a funeral. the last thing you wanted to do was socialize, feeling like you weren’t even in your own body all day. while you were saddened and to an extent, numb, you knew your grandfather’s passing was coming up. his illness was going to catch up to him and you spent months mentally preparing yourself for the day you would have to say goodbye. despite not being surprised, your grief was accompanied by the painful nostalgia of the town that raised you in the summertime.

the man looked at you, appearing to search your face for something. “you’re the old man’s granddaughter? bunny?”

the nickname almost made you flinch, having not heard it in so long that you were surprised you recognized it. you began searching the man’s face, too, also looking for some signs of familiarity. for so many years of your childhood, you were almost exclusively called this nickname by adults and friends alike.

there wasn’t room for a response when the man pulled over another individual by his sleeve, merely attempting to walk by in peace. this one was a man closer to your age and you were too distracted by the glisten of his facial piercings to scan for recognition. the second thing you noticed the adornment of tattoos peeked from below his sleeve and trailed onto his hands. the third and final thing you noticed about him was how gentle his hands were. this was realized because the sight of this man made you drop whatever was in your own hands in surprise.

the only thing you were holding was your grandfather’s envelope, no longer pristine and stained with a few raindrops. you noticed that you had been clutching onto this keepsake the entire service. you bent down to reach for it, when he also attempted to make the save for you. your hands brushed and you looked up at his eyes, suddenly taken away by confusion.

“jungkook, you remember bunny?”

you forgot the older man was in your presence, as he was the one who pulled jungkook over in the first place. jungkook. this was the little boy you spent hours running around with all those years ago. although you seemed to forget when your grandfather had last brought him up, those moments began to rain down on you upon taking sight of him for the first time in years. you had barely looked, but it hit you.

jungkook handed the envelope over to you and you cleared your throat, standing up properly and trying not to wobble on your favourite high heels. he also stood up and seemed to mirror your confusion, not understanding who was the person in front of him. you muttered a thank you and fixed an imaginary snag on your cardigan.

“i just go by my first name now,” you said through a tight smile to both men, still feeling like your gut was punched in after hearing the nickname that your grandpa coined,

“oh, of course. you’re all grown up now!” the man exclaimed. “do you remember me? mr. kim?”

the truth was that you didn’t remember him by face, but instead remembered that your father mentioned a man of this name being the mayor. if he was the same person, mr. kim’s father was the previous town mayor, as well, and was your grandfather’s best friend before his own untimely passing. given his larger than life presence, it was same to assume that the man in front of you was the tiny valley’s politician.

“mayor kim, of course.” you hoped you sounded convincing.

jungkook was still standing to the side, the same confused look etched on his face. “you’re the girl that tricked me into eating mud that one time?” he blurted, as if an imaginary lightblub flashed above his head

that took you by surprise and you almost snorted. “i didn’t trick you, you just went for it.” the quick snap back also took you by surprise, having left behind a bit of your normal self in the city before coming down to the valley for the funeral, as well as your instant recollection.

somehow, this memory was clear as day and you could remember jungkook as a seven year old with a horrible bowl cut and missing teeth. you wore light-up sneakers and candy bracelets that day, sitting on the porch of your grandfather’s farmhouse with him and were exchanging dares to see who would give up first. maybe that was why your grandpa said you two were -

“ - always competitive,” jungkook said.

although the two of you surely shared countless more memories, it was this one that stood against the test of time and it showed when it immediately hit you with a laugh. it took jungkook a second, too, but he eventually gave in and joined with his own. you hadn’t realized it until his swollen eyes became crescents in his giggles, but he seemed to be having his own trouble of a day.

“there it is, jungkook! nice to see you finally cheer up a bit,” mayor kim encouraged and jungkook’s chuckle immediately fell back to a straight face, almost intentionally. you suspected that this was not the first time today that mayor kim was on his case.

before mayor kim could add on, his attention gravitated towards something at the other end of the room. he sighed and set down the hor d'oeuvres, checking the time on his wrist dressed with gold.

“oh, i’m being called over,” he sighed and turned back to you. “it was a pleasure seeing you again, i hope to see you around town before you have to go back to the city.”

swiftly, mayor kim weaved his way through the crowd and just like that, it was just you and jungkook.

you took this opportunity to give jungkook an actual once over, comparing it to the faint image you had of this man from when you were children. undeniably, he was handsome, but you were more concerned with the fact that this was still the little boy you spent your summers with. he grew into his face and you didn’t realize that you accidentally said this out loud.

jungkook looked as much taken aback as he was amused. “oh, you got jokes, huh? that’s what you learned growing up in the city?” he teased.

“i didn’t mean it like that - “ you started, but he waved you off with a laugh.

the conversation was a bit overwhelming, considering you were still stuck in a church basement following your grandfather’s funeral service and could not locate your parents anywhere. jungkook recognized this in your face and eased into a sympathetic smile. somehow, you felt okay enough around him to drop your tense shoulders for the first time that day.

“i’m sorry, i should be giving my condolences. your grandpa was a loved man by everyone here.”

looking around the room, it was clear. everyone had shared fond stories and were making toasts in his honour. you felt out of place, but more so because you felt like you should have been joining in with the attendees. instead of being a kind of extended family that once saw you grow up, these people were strangers. you weren’t sure if anyone recognized you, having tried to lay low and not draw any attention to yourself. the only times you seemed to have caught anyone’s eye was when you were sat beside your parents at the burial, but no one dared approach you then.

“you were like a son to him, too,” you offered. it was true, given the amount of time you spent with jungkook as a child, maybe even going so far to call him your best friend at one point.

he let out a long breath, eyes moving to the enlarged portrait of your grandfather propped up on the wall. “that’s nice of you to say. i miss him already. i’m sure you feel the same.”

you learned quickly that, in light of your disappearance from your grandfather’s farm over the years, jungkook was the one who began helping out and taking over what were your old chores. your grandfather was physically able, but he kept the young boy around for company and made feeding the chickens an excuse to have his presence. hearing this made your heart drop, feeling an unknown sense of regret that you didn’t know existed when it came to the farm.

“it’s not like that!” jungkook cut in, seeing the tears well up in your eyes. “he would always talk about the two of you going on adventures in the city and how he loved spending time with you whenever he came up to visit. he knew that’s where your heart was.”

you sniffled a bit, having already promised yourself to limit your breakdowns to two that day, and took a second to reel it in. “sorry…i don’t mean to - “ you sighed.

“it’s okay. it’s weird being back here, huh?”

it was weird. it was so damn weird that the air of amber valley stuck with you for the months following, like bubblegum in your hair and a melody on loop in your head. you couldn’t shake it. not when you were working an extra 20 hours overtime in a week, not when you became stuck in traffic everyday, and especially not when your boyfriend of three years dumped you because you “changed” so much since the start of the year.

and, it was true. you changed a lot since your conversation with your grandfather on christmas eve, with his words echoing about the stressors of life everyday. it opened your eyes to how much you were really struggling and it wasn’t simply you who had changed, but your outlook on life. ever since you were twelve years old, everything shifted to the fastlane and years breezed by you in the blink of an eye. everything moved so fast and you never got a chance to catch your breath. one moment, you were 15, sneaking a sip of your first ever drink, and the next, you were 24 and drinking straight out of the wine bottle on a tuesday evening. you wondered how you suddenly found yourself jaded at a 9-5 black hole of a job that sucked out your energy and passions.

these days made you think about what truly deserved your energy and what truly were your passions. did you like your everyday routine of gluing on false lashes and slipping on pantyhose? were you happy, alone in your apartment with not even a cat to talk to? your parents had their own worlds and new lives to deal with and long stopped asking why you never call. your friends were co-workers, having no time to meet anyone new. you didn’t even have time for hobbies, given how tired you were every time you finished work and the amount of overtime you did.

one thursday night, you arrived home from work at 10:13pm and decided you had enough. it was constraining, nearly strangling you with exhaustion everyday. you spent the entire day wondering was “it” was and when you kicked off your loafers by your doorstep, it hit you. this was what your grandfather was talking about.

almost walking with fear of what was to come, you creeped over to your desk. after your grandpa’s funeral, his envelope no longer lived underneath manila folders in your drawer, but found a place on the surface. you kept it there, as it mocked you every time you opened up your work laptop after hours. you didn’t realize why you left it in plain sight, until this moment when you came to terms with the fact that you were reminding yourself of him.

“if you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of change. the same thing happened to me, long ago. i’d lost sight of what mattered most in life. . . real connections with other people and nature. so i dropped everything and moved to the place where i truly belong.”

it took you precisely two weeks to pack up your things after opening the envelope. nobody could convince you not to. your mother complained that you were wasting your degree and your father had concerns about the massive role you were about to take on all by yourself. it didn’t matter.

two weeks later, you met amber valley and its sunlight for the first time in years, pretending that the storm ceased and the sun shone to welcome you back.

iii. the granddaughter

the sun faded quickly when you realized the bus dropped you off on a plain dirt road in the middle of nowhere. the movers took the rest of your belongings separately, so you were left with nothing but a duffel bag and a cell phone that couldn’t find any signal.

“oops,” was all you could say. you didn’t think it was a crazy idea, that there would be service at the very least.

it took you a few moments to let the situation settle in and for you to realize that you were abandoned in a place that was unfamiliar to you. was it unfamiliar? you looked around, seeing nothing but fields on fields and accepted that there was no way you could even try to remember where you were, even with the help of the maps app. you knew you made it to town, but you were certainly left at the farthest point of the borders.

and then, you heard it.

it was over at least ten years since you last rode, but your ears perked up at the sound of a horse’s gallop naturally. you had to squint, but it was unmistakable.

they were going in the other direction and they were going fast, so you had to think fast. you tried yelling and waving your arms, but quickly saw that it was useless. so, you dropped your bg and brought your hands to your mouth, releasing the loudest whistle that your vocal chords could handle.

the horse and its rider kept going and for a few seconds, you thought you lost hope. but, then, as you were about to pick up your bag in shame, you watched them take a wide turn back around. they were headed to you.

you waved your arms back and forth again, affirming that you needed their attention. as they came closer, you could make out a figure of a man with chestnut brown hair peeking out underneath his cowboy hat. he wore medium wash, stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt.

“that was the loudest whistle i’ve ever heard,” he hollered, drawing closer to you.

you shook your head bashfully. “didn’t even know i remembered how to do that.”

“pretty sure the whole town heard. my name is namjoon, are you visiting someone here?”

likely a few years older than you, you tried to recall someone named namjoon from your memories. his appearance didn’t ring a bell, so you were searching your brain for his name or if you heard it from somewhere.

you told him your name and then squinted at him, pausing for several moments before speaking again. “are you. . .joonie?”

his eyebrows shot up immediately, looking at you like he couldn’t understand what language you were speaking. “pardon me?”

joonie. he was mayor kim’s eldest son, who was sent to a fancy arts camp every summer when you were younger. you only met him a few times throughout the years, as he often arrived back the same week you were due to leave your grandpa to go back to your parents, but one feature stuck in your mind always. his dimples. you thought you recognized namjoon’s polite smile and piecing it together with his name seemed to be the key.

“i’m pretty sure you’re mayor kim’s kid. i’m bad with faces, but you’re joonie, aren’t you?” the confidence in your voice was fuelled by the fact that no one really left amber valley. it was the kind of place where families would raise their children with the kids they grew up with themselves.

namjoon seemed to still be calculating your appearance in his head when you heard the faint noise of galloping once again. the two of you looked over to see another person on a horse who was looking around the field, likely looking for namjoon. the man in question brought his hand to his mouth and released a whistle similar to yours - though, you did gloat silently because yours was, in fact, louder.

still, it was enough to get the person’s attention and they finally made eye contact with the two of you. they began approaching and you could make out that it was a man’s figure. still, even with how small of a town amber valley was, you were surprised to see who it was.

“jungkook!”

“namjoon, i just spent fucking 15 minutes looking for you - “

you tried to keep your expression neutral when you saw that it was actually jungkook on the horse. he wore an all-black outfit of cargo pants and a wife beater tank that exposed his tattooed arms. it made it hard to keep your expression the same.

“oh, hey. did you come to collect something from your grandpa’s property?” jungkook suddenly ignored his previous frustration at namjoon, cleared his throat and dropped his voice by an octave, in addition to cutting his voice’s volume by a cool half. he swiftly hopped off his horse, too cleanly to be casual.

namjoon’s confusion only doubled, darting eyes between the two of you. “sorry, have you guys met?” he didn’t miss the way that jungkook straightened his shoulders without even trying to be subtle.

you missed it, though, having cut away your stare to double check if your phone managed to get any signal. none. sighing, you shook your head at jungkook, as he began explaining to namjoon.

“ - we called her bunny. remember bunny?” he nudged towards you.

namjoon looked back at you again and concern formed. “you’re the granddaughter. oh, you were at the funeral - i’m sorry about your loss. your grandpa was such a great person.”

you put on the same tight smile every time someone mentioned him. the worst of the grief came back on some days, but you learned how to manage it day by day as time went on. jungkook watched you do so and cleared his throat.

“the old bus stop is the worst,” he interrupted, gesturing towards the tiny sign that indicated that it was in service. “people get lost all the time when they arrive. well, we don’t really have a lot of people visiting by bus - “

you couldn’t help but cut in. “i’m not visiting.”

the two men gave you and your single chanel duffel bag a blank stare and wondered if the idea was so hard to believe. it was for your parents, who both thought you caught them on some sort of prank show when you told them about grandpa’s envelope. you were wearing platform mary janes and a leather skirt in the dead of the june sun, so maybe they had a reason to be confused.

there was a moment of silence, so you decided to speak again. “yeah, i’m not visiting. um, i’ve decided to take over my grandfather’s farm. i’m moving to amber valley permanently.”

#jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #jungkook series #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts series #jungkook reaction #*** / the farmhouse.

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kooktrash · 8 months

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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

[ mini series ] [ masterlist ]

VIDEO BANNER

lim·er·ence

noun

the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterized by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.

LIMERENCE | 18+ | s | a … ex!jungkook

ONE SHOT

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ exes au | Y2K | grunge┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

warnings: TBD. angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26]

[ song inspo : do I wanna know — arctic monkeys {crawling back to you, ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few?}]

VIDEO LOGS :

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 3 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 8 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 11 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 14 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 19 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 22 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 24 ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

COMING SOON

…

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#jeon jungkook #jungkook one shot #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook series #jungkook masterlist #bts masterlist #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc

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chateautae · 1 year

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to turn a bad thing good | jjk. I

➵ summary: jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

➵ pairing: ceo!jungkook x law student!f. reader

➵ genre: series, arranged marriage!au, fwb!au (?), haters to lovers!au, smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating: 18+

➵ word count: 13k

➵ warnings: swearing, loads of angsty arguing, sEXUAL tension, mentions of sexual content

➵ a/n: YAYYY it's here!! thank you endlessly to everyone who has loved, supported, and anticipated this series ever since I announced it. i’m grateful for your patience and hope you enjoy this first chapter. I have so much in store 🥺 pls forgive me for mistakes i did not have a beta bLEH. your feedback means the world to me <3

chapter one: “i’ve been to someone’s tomorrow”

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“Hello! Don’t you two dare get couply with me, I’m having a mid-life crisis!”

“Dude, you’re only 23, this isn’t a mid-life crisis, just a fucking crisis, goddammit.”

Jungkook scoffs derisively at Kim Taehyung’s curt voice over the phone. He rolls his eyes, knowing full well that his ride-or-die, lifelong friend is much more interested in indulging his wife right now. He’s happy for the man, he truly is, but Jungkook’s life is currently on the brink of destruction.

And he goddamn needs some sympathy.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s me.” Jungkook feels blessed to hear Taehyung’s wife on the phone, a much more kindred soul compared to his broody friend. “Go on, what happened to you? Why do you sound so scared?”

God, it’s good to hear that voice. Taehyung’s wife’s concern always sounded so genuine, like she’s handing you a cup of tea and creating a safe space for you to tear out your heart and empty its heft. It’s so goddamn sweet, it makes a person want to spill all their secrets until their soul is cleansed—it’s what makes Jungkook steel himself before relaying what’s happening to him.

After attending his friend Jung Hoseok’s club opening last night, he encountered the most enchanting woman he’s ever met. Her alluring eyes, her graceful body and seductive smile caught Jungkook like a Venus flytrap, unable to escape once nipped; but it was her sharp tongue and cleverly sexy mind games that keep Jungkook captive. He found that he enjoyed being captured, enjoyed the sweet pain of her cage and drowning in her nectar despite the poison; it resulted in the most mind-blowing sex of his entire life that night.

Until he was slapped with the shittiest turn of events.

“What’s up, Jungkook? Did something happen with your hookup?”

“No, I need to tell you the crisis. So I had mind-blowing sex, yes, but then I woke up a couple hours ago and tell me how I heard my parents talking about getting me an arranged marriage, an arranged marriage for fuck’s sake!” Jungkook grinds his teeth with contempt, the word ‘marriage’ tasting foul on his tongue.

“What? You’re getting an arranged marriage?”

“Yeah, my parents were just talking about it and I’ve been having a mental breakdown for an hour now, what am I supposed to do? I can’t fucking get married.” The very thought has been clawing at Jungkook’s stomach ever since. Marriage? Monogamy? Having his freedom stripped away?

He may actually turn green and throw up his stomach contents.

Jungkook has always been far from what most people expected a rich kid in Seoul to be. Devil-may-care, disobedient, allergic to responsibility. The word itself could make a disease break out in his blood, appalled by anything that demanded more than a night of fun or partying—it threatened his formula of escapism.

Ever since Jungkook was old enough to grasp his family’s affluence, he’s had tradition, discipline and business politics rammed down his throat. The sheer force of it trained him to have an acute disgust for anything resembling it, resulting in a “troubled” child that rarely followed what his parents desired.

It was not his fault his father owned one of the largest gaming companies in Korea, on track to raiding the American markets and introducing a global name for Jeon Entertainment. It was not his fault he was his father’s child and his first born son, burdened with the responsibility to inherit the company from the moment he drew his first breath. It was not his fault he carried the weight of a thousand expectations of who he should be.

It was all decided for Jungkook. He had no say in the matter, no method to refute his prominence. No, he’d been forced to bid his parent’s wishes, unable to live a life of his own. So what did Jungkook do? How did he break out of these confinements and live his intemperate, so-called recalcitrant life?

He developed the only method he’d considered most effective; he’d live unapologetically.

Tattoos, piercings and partying proved his disobedience. He wouldn’t be the prim, proper son many expected of the Jeon family, adopting what society believed to be a “delinquent” image. Instead of posh ceremonies and frivolous flattering, Jungkook found his tongue down a woman’s throat in a dark bar or worked out until his muscles burned.

Instead of unsteady politics and people-pleasing, Jungkook traversed every club in Seoul or smoked enough weed to forget the entire events of a weekend. Instead of empty words and fake smiles, he traded them for carefreeness, straight-forwardness, genuineness.

Some would say Jungkook’s too simple, that he indulges in vices and the finer things in life because he’s too daft to comprehend the complexities of the ways of the world. A notorious playboy who’s only merit appears to be his ravishing good looks and god-like stroke game, but that’s only the image he builds, the persona he carefully curates for outsiders.

It’s not that he hides who he truly is, no, he merely goes about life without over-complication, allowing him the freedom he’s been forced to renounce. It’s his plan for the rest of his life; take as much control of it without giving a fuck about others, and he’ll always be happy.

It worked for as long as he was smart enough to understand people, to understand his indulgences and pleasures. But when Jungkook overheard he was being shoved into an arranged marriage, distaste was too light a word—he was filled with absolute loathing.

This is a complete fuck-up to his plan.

“Shit, you’re only 23, too, why would they be marrying you off?”

“I don’t know, I heard something about how she’s the daughter of some what-its-face CEO that our family knows.” Jungkook relays with a hard swallow, clutching his phone in his hand so hard his knuckles must be white. He gazes upon the horizon before his eyes in the early morning, brimming with an orangey hue that bathes the gorgeous skyline of Seoul, its light rays dancing across the Han River.

It rids Jungkook of the nausea climbing up his throat, threatening to hurl over his balcony. “I’m gonna throw up. I can’t do this, marriage is literally my kryptonite and I can’t get married, I can’t. What if the girl’s some stuck up brat? What if I hate her? Oh God.. what if she’s some goody two-shoes? What if-”

“Shh, Jungkook, calm down.” Jungkook took a deep breath at the sound of Taehyung’s wife’s voice—he knows he’s losing it. “Look, I know it sucks and you didn’t agree to this, but maybe the girl won’t be so bad? Maybe you’re being matched because-oh fuck, Kim Taehyung, don’t you dare put your mouth there right now.”

“What? I can’t have my breakfast, thought I’d at least have a snack.”

Of course, this is what Jungkook should’ve expected to hear after he saw Taehyung and his wife nearly fucking each other on the dancefloor at Hoseok’s club last night. They were ravenous, practically impossible to not stumble upon and find either devouring each other with their eyes, one sitting in the other’s lap or lips passionately glued to one another.

Part of him envied their love and intimacy, but he's more glad the two seemed to be jolly again after the fight they’d been having for weeks. And as much as he’d love to hear the lovebirds go at it this morning, his patience was running thin. “Ugh, could you guys not get disgusting in front of me? I’m still having a fucking crisis here.”

“Right.. right, Jungkook.”

“Jungkook, dude, look. Arranged marriages aren’t even that bad, look at how mine turned out.”

“That’s because your wife is literally perfect, you asshole.” Jungkook grits—he’s telling the truth. His friend’s wife was possibly the prettiest woman inside and out he’s ever seen. She’s kind-hearted, head-strong, and even has these adorable doe-eyes that could charm any man. It’s no wonder his friend fell so hard for her, he couldn’t blame him.

Jungkook harboured strong feelings of admiration for Taehyung’s wife—of a Seoul rich kid able to defy the status quo and live for herself.

His friend’s wife was a tale often heard and discussed; the daughter of famous architect and CEO Min Namhyun, running away from the family to pursue her dreams on her own two feet. While it wasn’t an exact replica of Jungkook’s tale, it was still a distant cousin. Someone who despised the closed quarters of a suffocatingly rich family, the disarming responsibilities, the soul-crushing pressure.

Jungkook could only hope he’d escape it like his friend’s wife did, but this marriage tosses him right back to square one.

“I mean, I can’t argue with that.” His friend boasts over the phone, tugging Jungkook back into reality.

“Fucking hell, you guys are just a special case, too. And it’s only because your wife is literally so perfect, and caring, and cute, and cool, not to mention a ride or die. I mean, who the fuck throws a right hook like her? And for your sorry ass? She’s literally the epitome of wifey material, hot and sexy-”

“Jeon, shut the fuck up before I personally murder you.”

“I mean, he isn’t wrong. I’m pretty cool. I also have nice eyes, don’t I? Not to mention my plushy lips? And my cute height, too, Mr. Kim?” Jungkook had to bite back his laugh, remembering when Taehyung became uncharacteristically timid and told all their friends three things he liked about his new wife. His marriage was still fresh after the initial arrangement then, just two strangers forced into matrimony, but even Jungkook knew there was something special between the two of them.

It was obvious; something warm and kindred in the way his friend looked at his wife that indicated his heart was meant to belong to her.

Jungkook knew his story wouldn’t be the same fairytale.

“You’re so sweet, Jungkook. You’re like the perfect package, all endearing but then you have muscles like that too? Do you work out?”

Jungkook nearly blushed, flattered by the compliments. He’s seconds from adding to the joke before Taehyung’s so-calm-it’s-scary voice rippled through the phone.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Princess. You’re naked right now, and I have access to every inch of your body. Want me to touch you while he’s on the phone? Let him hear the way you moan for me? Maybe give him a sneak peek of what happened last night? All I remember is you digging your nails into my back and riding me until-”

“Okay, Tae, shut up! God, you’re so annoying.”

Jungkook heard Taehyung bellow out a laugh, and he couldn’t help but be a shit-disturber like always, their happiness contagious. “Damn, Tae, I’m gonna get turned on over here, you know I have a voyeurism kink. Invite me over next time you’re going at it, I like watching my porn live-”

“Jungkook, you’re dead to me. Goodbye.”

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Tae. What do I do about this goddamn marriage?!”

“Suck it up and marry the damn girl, for fuck’s sake. She’s probably not even that bad, if anything I feel bad for her, you’re the asshole, Jungkook.” Taehyung snips back. “Watch you end up falling in love with her, I’m gonna be there to say I told you so.”

“But-!” And Jungkook’s cut off, left to stare at his phone. He resists the urge to toss it over the railing and let it plummet to the ground, its pieces scattering everywhere until they’re eventually dust. How hilarious; that sounds a fuck-ton like Jungkook’s ravaged freedom right now, his goddamn autonomy, his sovereignty.

What happened to Jungkook’s rights? Why can’t his parents respect the goddamn progressive state of the world and just let him live?

The things he’s fought to preserve ever since he was a kid, the things he valued more than anything else, gone with the wind just like his right to choose. He knew there was no fighting this one either, no manner of escape he couldn’t accomplish without completely destroying his family.

And despite what many want to believe about him, Jungkook isn’t selfish.

He can’t choose himself without damning others, so he swallows down his pride, his anger, his instinct to defy, and marches back into his room. He tosses away his shirt and strips off his dress pants, left to crawl into his bed and marinate in what the fuck he’s going to do.

“Avatar is literally one of the best movies ever.”

“Crap. The best movie ever is Inception and you know it.”

“Oh please, you’re just trying to be edgy. You’re the same guy who hates on Silence of the Lambs for the fuck of it.”

“Not my fault I’m not into serial killers who skin their victims and wear them.”

You snort as you whack your best friend Taeksu in the bicep, giggling into your martini. “Admit it, you just like to be different.”

“What can I say, I’m a one of a kind guy.”

Taeksu’s full-of-it smirk makes you bop him in the shin, earning an overly-exaggerated exclamation of pain from him. You roll your eyes as you request a refill on your martini from the gorgeous bartender who hasn’t been discreet with his few-too looks in your direction and his sexy lop-sided grin. You send him a lascivious one in return, drinking up his bulky muscles and square jaw you ache to kiss.

“Hello, earth to Y/N?” Taeksu flails his hand in front of your face, earning a scoff from you.

“Why are you interrupting my game, loser? What the hell do you want?”

“I asked how your final essay for contract law is going.” Taeksu bites back with the same attitude, swirling around his Whiskey before downing it. “Forgive me for goddamn asking, you idiot.”

“Says you.” You retort, narrowing your eyes at him. He stares right back, challenging you with his formidable eyes, though not threatening in the least.

That was the thing about your best friend Cho Taeksu, his eyes told everything. Their stunning shade of hazel with green flecks made his gaze appear soft and light no matter the situation, and never allowed you to take the man seriously.

It’s what made you two such a great pair; both of you didn’t take anything seriously. You’d discovered your similar laissez-faire approach to life when you met the snot-nosed kid at the age of 8.

You stumbled upon a young Taeksu lounging in his bedroom rather than enjoying the bustling party his parents were throwing downstairs. He was wearing a dapper little button up with his tiny tie a little off-center, sniffling away his allergies. His light-brown hair was mussed and his lips drawn into a pout, annoyed with his constant sniffling.

Your mother had let you wander the Cho mansion earlier, a notion she was comfortable with considering the Cho’s were good friends with your parents.

Taeksu was playing with a model car, imitating the sounds of a roaring engine as he knocked over a tower of wooden blocks. His room appeared as cool as an 8-year-old’s room could; a gigantic lava lamp in the corner, a car bed with a water mattress, a Nintendo 64 with his very own TV. You’d opened his door further as curiosity plagued you, only for the creak of the cherrywood to alert Taeksu of your presence.

Fear gripped you at invading his space; would he be like the other boys that didn’t want to play with a girl? That refused to share their expensive toys with anyone else? That would be mean to you?

“Are you not having fun?”

You tilted your head; what a weird question. “What do you mean?”

“At the party, is it not fun?”

The boy seemed so… calm, relaxed. He continued playing with his car as you ventured inside his room, timidness overcoming you. “I don’t like these parties. Too many people.”

The boy pouted, sighing. “Me neither.”

“Won’t you get in trouble by your parents? For being here?”

The boy pouted again, jerking his small shoulders up and down as he sniffled. “It’s okay. No biggie. I’m having fun like this.”

His lack of care honestly shocked you in that moment, taken by his ability to shut out what others wanted of him and simply pursue something he enjoyed, even if it was merely playing with a toy car. It was a trait of Taeksu’s that remained consistent throughout the 15 more years you’d known him, a trait you’d come to admire.

You found that your lives were so similar, so entangled that being best friends was simply fate. That connection extended to your families, your parents such synergistic friends that forging an unbreakable bond was inevitable.

It doesn’t hurt that Taeksu isn’t ugly either, no, he’s objectively one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen. His eyes were like rare gems of amber and emerald, a product of his Persian mother, complemented by brown, silky hair and flawless face structure courtesy of his Korean father. The man was a beautiful mix of rarity on his own. His physique was tall but lean, straight teeth that made for a handsome smile, and a kind heart that could ensnare the affections of any woman he set his eyes on.

He never really utilized that much around you, though.

After staring too hard, you and Taeksu burst into laughter, the alcohol poisoning your bloodstream by now, becoming loose-lipped and loose-limbed. Taeksu also appears slightly flushed, his grin a little too wide indicating that he’s now tipsy, and easily swayed. “So what, haven’t started your essay for contract law yet?”

“No, I started. Finished, actually.” You correct yourself, glugging your shot of tequila before sucking on a lime. You let the liquor burn your throat and dizzy your mind, leaning your cheek into your palm against the bar counter. “Why are you asking, anyway? Looking to copy off?”

Taeksu snorts. “Please, if I ever copied off you my GPA would drop.”

A look of disgust dawns on your features before punching his arm, once again earning his dramatics. “What the hell, Y/N?”

“You’re the one doing things to deserve it.”

Taeksu shakes his head in disapproval as your drunkenness takes over, slowing your speech. “Why are you even talking about school when that blonde chick over there has been eyeing you for 20 minutes?”

You make a light gesture towards the girl’s general direction, Taeksu flitting a glance to indeed find a gorgeous girl smiling at him, confident enough to even wave him a seductive hi. Taeksu scoffs through his smile, wetting his lips before his gaze falls to you. “I don’t remember saying I’m sleeping with someone tonight.”

“Well, you should.” You encourage him, clasping his shoulder like he’s your teammate. Indeed that’s what Taeksu always was; your partner in crime, your buddy, your homie. As attractive as the man might be, he’s also the same man that’s seen your absolute worst, and you his. You knew the kid when he thought replicating the movie “How to Eat Fried Worms” was a genius idea and his mother spanked him raw for destroying her microwave with cooked worm.

You knew the kid when he vomited all over you during field trips, his motion sickness as persistent as the damn devil. You even knew him when he needed to jump ship on a hookup because his dinner settled terribly in his stomach and he had the runs. You were his saviour that night; you posed as his mother texting him that his aunt had died.

Bless Taeksu’s auntie, but it was his most embarrassing moment he refused to tell anyone—save you.

Suffice to say, Taeksu was and will always be a friend. Your feelings never bloomed beyond that. You could never see him in a romantic light without something foreign crawling through your blood or feeling as though you’re deeply wronging him.

The furthest you’d go is sleeping with him, and that would cause nothing but carnage. Your appetite for sex was nothing like his, used to fill a void that haunts your soul—sex could mean absolutely nothing to you but everything to him. You couldn’t risk rousing those feelings inside him nor jeopardizing the future relationship Taeksu could have with the right woman, someone he truly belongs with.

It’s what always allowed you to operate like this with Taeksu; best friends, and nothing more.

“Why do you think I should?”

“Because law school is so stressful, and you need a good fuck to relax.”

Taeksu frowns. “Who says I’m stressed?”

“Says the damn wrinkles forming on your forehead.”

“My what?!” Taeksuk screeches as he snatches his phone and accesses his front-facing camera, examining his forehead—you cackle.

“Taeksu, if you stress over the wrinkles, you’ll get even more.” You continue to snicker as Taeksu tells you off, flinging insults and teases he never means at all. Your banter persists for another five minutes before your gorgeous bartender refills your glass without you asking.

“Oh, I’m sorry. But my bill’s already quite–”

“Bill? It’s on me, love. Every drink has been.”

The magnetism of his stare has you believing you’re North and South poles, destined to connect. Your body could feel the buzz his own promised; thick muscles and broad stature, the low timbre of his voice invoking libidinous thoughts. The ghost of his whispers, the heat of his desire, the rough masculinity of his roaming hands…

“You look like you’re seconds from orgasming.”

Taeksu’s voice makes you cut a side-long glance at him. “And how would you know what that looks like?”

“Think I’ve made enough women come to know.” Taeksu sips his Whiskey with a smirk. “But neither of you are being discreet. Are you thinking of sleeping with him?”

“Yes, I very much am.” You answer matter-of-factly, your bartender returning to concocting more drinks, but the ghost of a smile on his lips telling you he’s in the same boat as you—your foreboding eyes cut to Taeksu. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Taeksu stiffens like he always does, swallowing a little harder than he should. He steels himself, though, draining the rest of his liquor. “But you’re quite drunk. Sober up before sleeping with him.”

“Don’t worry, I’m only tipsy, Taeksu.” You drawl, stroking your bottom lip with a seductive finger, eyes only for your bartender. “Like I said, how else do you get rid of stress other than a good fuck?”

Taeksu breathes a laugh at your proclamation, nodding. “Like you said about the guy last night. You didn’t tell me much about that.”

The simple reminder of last night left tremors through your body, forced to recall the ecstasy of it. All you had in mind was perusing a newly opened club belonging to an infamous chain owned by Jung Hoseok, a man one would call Dionysus himself. His music was spell-binding, his liquor of the finest quality and his circle of people even more delicious.

You barely remember the man you’d had inside of you last night, but there wasn’t much room for talking once his lips landed on yours. His roaming hands made fireworks explode in your veins, his touch igniting a burning passion within you.

You’d had the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever experienced, a rarity in your usual escapades. The man knew how to touch you, not just that he knew women. He excavated your body, understood your pleasures as though he was a study in what made you tick and utilized it to give you the night of your life.

The sheer memory of him made you sweat, shooing away the thought before you longed for something gone. He’d left by the time you’d awakened in your apartment, alone, wondering whether you were angry at him or angry at yourself for expecting something more.

“Not much to tell.”

“The look on your face says there’s a lot to tell.”

You roll your eyes at Taeksu and flick his cheek, your face contorting with teasing. “You definitely need a good fuck; would teach you to stop over-analyzing me.”

Taeksu chuckles, leaning his elbow against the bar counter. “Whatever you say, loser. Don’t say I never warned you about not being sober tonight, though.”

“Noted.”

You’re ready to make your move, downing your glass of water before straightening out of your dress and breathing deeply. You face Taeksu and blink rapidly, touching your hair. “Is my hair okay? I’ve been running my hands through it all night.”

Taeksu studies you, and it’s the kind of look that could get him in trouble. He gazes like you’re the only woman in the world, that softness shimmering with something indescribable. You swallow at the look, at his hand coming up to your face to softly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb coasts your cheek before he grins, a genuine and sweet one. “Bartender was right to call you beautiful.”

You inhale sharply, returning his smile before nodding and propping off your seat. You’re in the middle of banishing the conflicting thoughts Taeksu’s gaze just stirred when your phone begins buzzing on the bar counter, revealing a photo of your mom.

“Damn, why is she calling me now?”

Taeksu shrugs. “Want me to answer? Could be something important.”

“It’s okay, I’ll answer.” You thank him, snagging your phone and accepting her call without a single idea of the reality that’s going to hit you.

“You want me to what?”

“I want you to come with me on this cruise next weekend, Y/N. We’re meeting some very important people and I don’t feel like going alone.”

“But mooom—”

“Bidulgi, please. I’d much rather journey on a cruise with my daughter instead of alone.”

You sigh listening to the term of endearment your mother used with you. Bidulgi, dove, something she likened to calling you ever since you were four years-old and declared to the world that you wanted to be just like your mother—a lawyer who fights for people’s justice and freedom. She’d taught you that doves symbolized peace, freedom, and love, and wanted you to become not only a lawyer, but someone that emulated those things.

You couldn’t resist her when she called you her dove.

“Fine, mom. But who are we even meeting? And why is it a cruise? How long are we gone for?”

“Just half a week, Y/N. They’ve invited us on a cruise for the day that’ll dock in Hong Kong, and from there they’d like to take us to the Maldives.”

“The Maldives?” You squeak in question, absolutely bewildered. “Who the hell is taking us to the Maldives?”

“You’ll meet them next weekend. Spend this week packing for the cruise and the Maldives.” You sigh at your mother’s neglect for your life, not even registering how sudden this is.

“Mom, as much as I’d love to go on a trip, I have school and my internship. I can’t just up and leave for a luxurious vacation.”

“Taeksu already told me that you’re ahead in all of your class assignments and merely have studying left. You’ll have plenty of time to study upon the cruise and in the Maldives, and we’ll be back before your exams. As for the internship, considering you’re the daughter of the firm’s owner, I see no reason why you can’t have some time off.”

“But mom, you know I love working for your firm—”

“That’s final, Y/N. You will accompany me to this meeting. Am I not allowed to spend time with my daughter?”

You exhale heavily, shaking your head as you rummage through escape plans from this. You come up short in the end, because is there truly a way? There’s no winning an argument against a lawyer; a task as Herculean as beheading a Hydra. “Fine, mom. What about Jihoon and dad, though? We can’t just leave them.”

“Your little brother has school, and you know your father’s condition—he won’t be able to join us.”

Your mood plummets at the news, refusing to let it damper the rest of your night. “Okay. We’ll talk about this more later, though.”

“Good, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Always ask questions before taking any deal.” You breathe a smile at the pride in her tone, her parenting always having been through the lens of a lawyer. As annoying as it could be sometimes, it did have its perks, too.

“Bye, mom.”

“Take care, nae bidulgi.”

Cutting the call, you narrow your eyes at Taeksu. “You knew my goddamn mom was gonna whisk me away to the Maldives? And you didn’t tell me.”

“Hey,” he protests, hailing up his hands in surrender. “She told me not to say anything and you know your mom. The woman’s a kickass lawyer for God’s sake, I couldn’t defy her.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you march towards where you last saw your bartender, fed up with the situation—you might as well fuck your mind off it. Unable to locate him, you land on the first employee you can spot, leaning over the counter. “Hey, have you seen that really good-looking colleague of yours? Dark hair? Super buff?”

“Ah, you probably mean Hyunwoo. He just went to the back. One of my best guys.” The man flashes you a sunny smile as he crosses his arms over his chest, tilting your head at his words.

“One of your guys? As in you’re his boss?”

“Everyone’s boss, technically. I kinda own the place.”

You’re far too tipsy to consider you’re speaking to the Jung Hoseok, having barely noticed him at yesterday’s club opening. You thank him for the information and he tells you it’s no problem, along with what time Hyunwoo gets off work.

His information was more than correct, because you ended up finding Hyunwoo after his shift, sticking your tongue down his throat, and letting him shove his hand in your panties as he pressed you up against his car, grinding like two teenagers in heat. He drove you to his place where you both went at it quick and dirty, rough and nasty, left with enough whisker burn to have scratched you raw.

Though it was like nothing you had with the man the night before, left with the ghost of him haunting you, and wondering if he’ll ever return.

“You want me to what?!”

“We want you to take over the company, son.”

Jungkook scoffs as anger rages inside him, threatening to boil up all his blood. “You can’t be fucking serious, dad.”

“Watch your language, child.” Jungkook’s father rebukes him. “You knew this was coming, son. Why are you so upset? You were always destined to inherit the company.”

“But I thought I had time, time to actually want it.” Jungkook argues, exasperated beyond belief. “I’m only 23, dad. You can’t make me run an entire company.”

“And who says you can’t?” Jungkook’s mother cuts in, her arms tightly folded across her chest. “Son, your father built this company at 20 years-old, who says you can’t run it at 23? Besides, you’ve always loved games, what’s stopping you now?”

“Mom,” Jungkook exhales with a dry laugh, raking his hands through his long hair. “Enjoying games is one thing but running an entire fucking company is another. You can’t just drop this responsibility on me, you can’t!”

“Jungkook, you cannot escape this.” His father’s voice grows stern. “You are my firstborn and only son, and you are to inherit my company. There is no negotiating this; I do not care how hard you try to rebel against me or ruin your image. I do not care if you are nothing more than my playboy son who wastes the last half of his brain on partying and drinking, you will inherit my company and embrace my legacy.”

Jungkook attempts to hide the disgust on his face, the sting in his heart when his father regards him with such disdain. He’d grown used to his undermining and condescending language since he was a boy, speaking to Jungkook as if he were an obtuse child unable to fill his father’s shoes.

This is why Jungkook has always looked the other way, why he’s been fighting for his freedom since the day he understood his fate; disappointing his parents by being the worst was much better than disappointing them with his best.

Jungkook’s fist clenched open and closed, remembering to breathe through his fury, to channel it into his fists later when they met the hardness of a punching bag. His head is pounding, his brain computing five million possibilities at once, his body buzzing with the need to rampage. “You’re already forcing me to marry someone, you can’t force me to own your company. You just can’t.”

“Yes, I can. And you will.” Jungkook’s father remains unmovable, utterly stubborn. “Do not defy me.”

“And what if I ruin your company?” Jungkook venously retorts, jaw tightly locked. “What if I run it to the ground and you lose every precious thing you’ve worked so hard for?”

Jungkook’s father smiles grimly, replicating the malice of the Joker himself. “Then you’ll be damning yourself and the rest of our family, son. And I know you’re not so stupid as to jeopardize that. After all, your money has been my money your whole life; what are you to do without the penthouse you live in or the car you drive? The luxuries you bathe in everyday? What of your mother and sister? Will you let them lose everything because of your ignorance?”

Jungkook’s mind shatters; this is why his father was doing this. He knew Jungkook would have no choice, knew that his one weakness was always his family, that he’d do anything for them. He was manipulating that love, knowledgeable that Jungkook truly had no choice when sandwiched between these two tragedies. He had to run the company as best he could to support everyone, and failure to do so would result in his worst nightmare.

His family destroyed… his sister…

Jungkook laughs, meek and dry. He’s tired, he’s furious, he feels like tearing everything in this room apart. His chest aches and his brain throbs and his shoulders feel heavy with the weight of so much pressure, like a boulder crushing every tendon inside him.

He’s so… so fucking tired.

“Fine,” Jungkook grits, barely able to stand. His eyes fill with malevolence as he accusingly points at his father, his voice taut. “But I am not, and will never do this for you. I’m doing this for Mari… only for Mari.”

Jungkook doesn’t even give his father time to rebuttal before he turns his cheek and throws open the door of his parents’ suite, venturing away with white hot rage radiating through his every step.

“Mom, why the hell are you dressing me up?”

“Because, my love, you need to look pretty for this meeting.”

You grumble as your mother flocks around you like a wild bird, pestering you about your makeup and hair and outfit and shoes and purse as though you’re meeting the Prime Minister of Korea himself. Her constant blithering is enough to make your eardrums surrender, left utterly exhausted.

“Mom, what’s wrong with you? Why are you acting as though this is the most important meeting in the world?”

Your mother stiffens for a millisecond before softening, her expression calm and collected. You know the woman spent the better half of her life schooling her emotions as a lawyer, slaying any feelings of anxiety and doubt like a warrior. But the nerves always showed in her eyes, in her hands that sometimes shook, in the entirely unconscious way she’d clean just to distract herself.

Right now she was tidying up your entire suite on the cruise, her voice distant. “Nothing’s wrong, Y/N. You know appearances are everything and I just want my daughter to look beautiful.”

“Do you mean to say I’m not always beautiful?”

It’s only a joke, your light-hearted tone and a small chuckle saying that much, but your mother gasps as though someone has misplaced one of her files. Your mother has always hated when people touched her files.

She approaches you with a kind smile as she cradles your cheeks, her eyes sweeter than cotton candy. She’s been so benevolent lately that you’re afraid this may be the calm before the storm, wary of what today really entails.

She still refuses to share many details about the meeting today, nor has she informed you of the people part of it. You could be walking into a den of monsters and not know, but she’s your mother—the woman who raised you to be relentless, strong-spirited, a goddess. You’d always trusted her, always let her be your confidant because she offered so much more than just being a mother—she acted as a best friend, a sister, a counsellor even.

Even if growing up under her strictness and expectations wasn’t easy, you like to believe she truly molded you into the person you are today. She did what was necessary; polished a rock hard enough until it became a diamond.

You trust your mother, so you’ll blindly follow her into this meeting if you have to.

“You are the most beautiful woman, Y/N.” Your mother coos, tracing one of the earrings you wear. “You look stunning.”

Your lips naturally curl, touched by her love. “I’m only beautiful because I get it from my mother.”

She grins, wide and true, but you can’t help but distinguish the lightest regret in her eyes, as though she’s shielding something from you. You want to press her, desperate to understand what’s going on, but you know your mother—whatever it is, it’s for your benefit.

Taking a deep breath, you clasp her wrist, bouncing your brows. “Shall we?”

She giggles warmly in return, gripping your hand. “We shall.”

To say this cruise was beautiful is an understatement, it was absolutely lavish, decadent. Its sheer opulence begged the question of the wealth of whomever you were meeting tonight, only a billionaire’s pockets deep enough to afford this.

Your mother still opted for secrecy regarding everything tonight, but she informed you of the cruise. One of the most luxurious to sail; it was owned by the man you were both meeting, colouring you 26 shades of impressed. The activities and events on board were enough to spend days on the ship; it was genuinely disheartening to think you’d only be able to indulge until tomorrow.

Manuevering across the ship and into a more private, though equally opulent room above the main deck, your eyes widen at the sight beyond the windows. The vast sea offers a soothing sight tonight, the scent of salt water like balm to your soul. The sounds of waves crashing are shut out in this room, though present, threatening to lull anyone who listens too carefully to sleep.

You’re so busy admiring the breadth of the ocean that you’re startled by the sound of an older man entering the room, his voice joyful and welcoming. “Bitna, there you are, how great it is to see you!”

“Ah, Chinhae, it’s great to see you too!” Your mother lights up with a merry smile, reaching out and embracing the man with familiarity. “Let me introduce you to my daughter, Y/N.”

“Well would you look at her, she looks just like you, Bitna.” Chinhae politely compliments, extending his hand for a shake. You meet him in the middle and respectfully bow, plastering on a smile. “Nice to meet you, dear. I’m Jeon Chinhae. I’ve heard wonderful things from your mother.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon.” You squeeze his hand, soon shooting your mother a reprimanding look. “I’m sad to say my mother didn’t tell me much about this meeting or yourself.”

“With good reason, Y/N.” Your mother tuts.

“Bitna, how could you? I think you’ve wounded me a little.” Mr. Jeon jokes, causing you and your mother to chuckle. They begin some light small talk as your mind starts to wander, contemplating the significance of tonight’s meeting.

What is your mother planning? Considering this man owns this ship means he’s incredibly wealthy; perhaps a politician? Another lawyer? Someone you could potentially work with after you’ve finished law school? But you don’t know of any extravagantly affluent lawyers by the name of Jeon, already familiar with Seoul’s upper echelon of justice representatives.

Seoul’s upper echelon… now that gets your gears shifting. He must be a member if he’s in possession of such a lavish vessel and freely offering you and your mother an all-inclusive vacation to the Maldives.

You rake your mind for the name Jeon then. It sounds so familiar, a company of sorts often on the news and in stores… ah! Jeon Entertainment.

This must be the CEO of Jeon Entertainment, it’s the only viable option. Of course the CEO of a gaming company could afford all of this; the gaming market remains crazy profitable as technology advances, creating new ways for humans to escape their reality and immerse themselves in alternate worlds.

“She’s only told me of the wonderful trip you mean to take us on, which we’re very grateful for, Mr. Jeon.” You honestly extend your gratitude as you cut into the conversation; it’s not everyday an illustrious family waves you a free ticket for a vacation in your face.

“No need for thanks, dear. I’m certain we’ll be like family on this trip, anyway.” Mr. Jeon smiles kindly, and his words slightly confound you. Like family? Surely if your mom considered the man family, she would’ve told you about him.

“Please, Chinhae. Where is the rest of your family? I haven’t seen your wife in far too long.” Your mother laments, causing Mr. Jeon to regretfully exhale.

“Ah, she’s with my son. I’m sure they’ll be out soon.” Mr. Jeon kisses his teeth with slight annoyance and swivels around, calling out to the corridor he emerged from. “Jagiya, our guests are here!”

You and your mother fall into needless conversation to seem polite as Mr. Jeon nearly stomps his way to the corridor, calling out again. It’s then you hear whispered-yelling, barely coherent but evident. They sound angry and distressed, alerting you that something seems off about this.

Mr. Jeon settles as two shadows appear before him. His smile, though fake, rises. “Ah, Bitna, Y/N, let me present my wife and son. Jeon Aecha and Jeon Jungkook.”

You’re smiling politely, ready to respectfully bow for the two people that enter the room. What you’re met with is nothing you’d expect; your jaw unhinges the second you lay eyes on a frustrated man venturing into the room as though he’d rather watch paint dry, and his distraught mother trailing behind.

Your heart stops, your blood spikes and suddenly every hair on your body rises, unable to fathom…

This is the exact same man you slept with the other night, the one who absolutely rocked your world.

And now here he is before you, his eyes widening just like yours. Clearly he’s as shocked to see you, frozen. It takes all but two seconds for shame to dawn on his features, evidently recalling how things were left between you two—he’d run off before you could even wake up, dooming the night to a simple one night stand.

Petty anger settles into your bones, once again either hating the man for leaving or yourself for expecting him to stay. You weren’t anticipating much; you’re a woman who stands by one night stands, sex merely something you craved and often got. But you at least expected him to stay until breakfast, to have that awkward but mollifying conversation where both parties either agree to continue the relationship or end things there.

And you’d wanted to continue things with this man. He was different, and deliciously good in bed. But no, he didn’t respect you enough to have that conversation, or clearly hated the sex so much that he disappeared like a thief in the night.

Looking at his stupid face now, you hate that he did, hate him for leaving you, hate that his skills in bed were so good you’d been reeling for days.

You decide to toss aside those notions now, forget the fact that you’ve slept with the goddamn CEO of Jeon Entertainment’s son. You could hardly look Mr. Jeon in the eye now, introducing his son as though you didn’t already know what he feels like inside of you.

The thought forces you to clear your throat and collect your wits, schooling yourself as you greet who you now know as Jungkook, and his mother.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” You say, swallowing down the urge to stare at Jungkook. “What could be bringing our two families together in such a wonderful place? I’ve heard the ship actually belongs to you, Mr. Jeon.”

“Ah, yes, it does, dear.” He grins widely. “I’m sure my son would be happy to show you around tomorrow. You’ll be spending quite some time together after all.”

You then remember you’re meant to spend this entire vacation with Jungkook’s family, and of course, Jungkook himself. The thought nearly makes your insides coil, forced to be with the same man that left you that night. Still, your mother was friends with this family, and you’d use every available method to hide the true nature of how you know Jungkook in order to preserve niceties.

No matter that the fucking heat of his stare from across the room keeps distracting you… fuck.

“Of course, the trip to the Maldives. Is there something to be celebrating?” You query, curious as to what occasion there is. Jungkook’s entirely blank face suddenly folds when his eyebrows quirk in confusion, eyes darting towards you. It’s then shock blooms on his features, soon his jaw flexing as he looks away.

“Oh? Did your mother not tell you about our meeting today?” Mr. Jeon asks, shaking your head as you peer at your mother.

“No, she didn’t. Is there something I should know?”

Mr and Mrs Jeon then send each other puzzled looks, your mother barely able to meet your eyes. Your confusion only grows, peeking between both hesitant parties.

Mr. Jeon then grins politely, speaking carefully. “Ah, Bitna, you didn’t tell your daughter about the marriage between my son and your daughter?”

You choke, both literally and figuratively. Your body goes rigid, mind blanketed by a snowstorm. Your very understanding of reality crumbles, chest pierced by a cruel arrow of pain. You glance at your mother, who looks at you with a world of regret, finally understanding why she seemed so off today.

This entire time… this entire time she planned on having you married off, and she didn’t tell you?

“Mom…” You breathe, ribs threatening to cave in, leaving you bare and naked as you face the people in this room. You feel too vulnerable, too seen, too exposed. “Mom… you-you didn’t tell me?”

Your mother smiles with guilt, reaching out for you. “Bidulgi, I’m so sorry. I just wanted you to meet the Jeon’s without any judgement.” She coos, coos like she always does, even using that term of endearment with you to sweeten the blow of her words.

She planned this… she–she ambushed you with this news, purposefully withheld the information so you had no choice but to agree. You couldn’t rudely reject the marriage in front of the Jeon family, not with them letting you stay on their ship and taking you to the Maldives. Not with their son right here, who’s gone so still you’re certain the man is stone.

That’s nothing like you, though. No, you're a whirlwind of emotions; hurt, betrayal, pain, sorrow, betrayal. You feel like you’re living somebody’s life, somebody else’s tomorrow, certain this is all a cosmic joke because this can’t be your life.

But your eyes then fall to the woman responsible for this; your mother. Not anyone else’s, yours, meaning this is your life, and it is happening to you. You feel horribly wronged by her; she knew you trusted her, used that trust and manipulated you into a deadlock of a decision.

Marriage? Fucking marriage? She wanted you to marry someone, and of all fucking people on Earth, it’s to the man who left your bed as though you were some meaningless rump in the sheets?

You’re shaking with anger by the time your mother and Jungkook’s parents begin talking, discussing the most menial of things. Mr. Jeon asks about your father, and your mother gives the usual answer she does. Mrs. Jeon even dares to joke about wedding decorations, her and your mother beginning to discuss which flowers to purchase for the ceremony.

They continue to speak freely, acting as though their children they’re forcing to wed aren’t even there, mere pawns to be moved around on their chessboard. You can barely stand now, white hot fury poisoning your blood. To be in the same room as your mother feels akin to burning, the sting of her betrayal more agonizing than any venom.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, incapable of remaining here, of accepting this. Your embarrassment is gut-wrenching, unbelieving that your mother could do this to you, could leave you looking imbecilic in front of your future fiance’s family—those very words taste wrong in your mouth.

She was always such a modern woman, forward-thinking and progressive. You would’ve never thought she could do something as old-fashioned as marry her daughter off to a stranger—it seems you were wrong.

You can’t even breathe anymore, so overcome with emotion that you excuse yourself for a breath of fresh air, fighting to keep the contents of your dinner in your stomach.

“Uh… hey.”

You whip your head around to find Jungkook hesitantly sauntering onto the deck, shutting the door behind him. You grip the railings of the bow of the ship, letting the sea breeze whisk through your hair.

You’d ventured outside to clear your head, to let the unsettling waters of the ocean perhaps distract you from the choppy waves in your own mind. But it’s far from clear now as you watch Jungkook’s eyes dart elsewhere, lodging his hands into his pockets, feet shifting.

You despise that your memory of him the other night resurfaces, distraught with how he appears the same; strikingly handsome with a boyish charm that completely contradicts his playboy sex appeal.

You could sneak a peek of the tattoo sleeve you knew decorated one of his arms, extending to the back of his hand. His piercings present dangly earrings that glint in the moonlight, his lip ring harkening back memories of its metal against your skin. His hair is longer than your traditional male, falling in soft, slightly wavy strands that frame his face handsomely. A few even curl over his forehead in a comma, a faint undercut adding a hint of roughness to his soft features, his strong brows mesmerizing.

You can’t help but scoff, despising yourself for finding him even remotely attractive. He just had to have a Herculean body with delicious muscles that hugged a tall torso, adding insult to injury. Had to have thick thighs and a thick chest and thick shoulders that could carry the entire world.

Absolutely unfair.

“Well… if it isn’t you.” You snark, ripping your eyes away from the damn traitor. His hesitant behaviour in the meeting earlier indicated that he knew about this marriage before you did, possibly even knew it was to you. “Did you know about this shit? Because if you did, I won’t hesitate to throw you overboard.”

You listen to Jungkook scoff, tonguing his lip ring. “Wow, says the girl who told me her name was Yeji before sticking her tongue down my throat the night we met. Nice to meet you by the way, Y/N.”

“Please,” you narrow your eyes at him, disgust sprawling all over your face. “I don’t remember you hating it, so stop acting wounded. And you didn’t tell me your name, anyway. I was under the impression we weren’t going to meet again… let alone marry each other.”

“Trust me, I want nothing to do with this either. And no, I had no clue my parent’s arranged a marriage until after our… night together. And I just found out it’s to you… of all fucking people.” The last part he whispers to himself, causing rage to simmer within you.

“Fuck you; you’re the same person who left my apartment like I was some trollop.” You venomously retort. “I can’t believe I have to marry you of all people.”

Jungkook visibly stands down at those words. You hate that your hurt is apparent enough for him to soften, his body less rigid. His eyes shimmer with the lunar rays of the moon, reflecting… sympathy. “Look, I’m sorry I did that, okay. That night was… overwhelming, and I never meant to make you feel—”

“Forget it, I don’t want your pity.” You spit his way, tightly clutching your shawl over your body. The sea had grown colder, attacking your exposed skin in this thin dinner dress your mother chose.

Now you want nothing but to toss it into the ocean.

Jungkook sighs deeply as he pinches the bridge of his nose, distress written all over his face. He runs a hand through his hair, lost in his head. “Listen, I know you may hate me, Y/N, but we’ll have to make this work somehow. We have to—”

“Are you mad?” You genuinely question, laughing even. “Jungkook, we’re going to pretend like the other night never happened, and we’re not going to get married, end of story. We’re going to march right back into that room and tell our parents that this isn’t happening.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh dryly, gesturing towards you. “Are you mad? We can’t fucking avoid this. We have to get married, we have no other choice.”

“We do; we simply don’t.” You refuse to budge, tone growing in its malice. “Don’t you see this isn’t going to work? We barely know each other and made a mistake the other night. We are not getting married.”

Jungkook’s features contort in disbelief. “We have to, okay? You don’t fucking get it, Y/N. I need to marry you, I have too much riding on this stupid fucking marriage.”

A derisive laugh escapes you, unbothered. “And what could you possibly have riding on this marriage? What more could a little fucking rich boy like you need?” Your words cause Jungkook’s eyebrows to furrow, a wicked grin forming on your lips. “Yeah, I did a Google search on you the second I came out here. All you are is a spoiled playboy who’s had his daddy feed him with a silver spoon all his life, what more could you need?”

Jungkook locks his jaw tightly, his fists clenching and unclenching. You knew you recognized the bruises on his knuckles, the coarseness of his calluses running over your heated skin that night. He clearly boxed or performed some kind of exercise fighting, indicative of the way he squeezes his hands together to no doubt control his anger. He swallows harshly, hard enough his Adam’s apple bobs and draws unnecessary attention to his neck… a sexy neck.

Fuck.

“Wow, you’re like a fucking angry kitten. Unaware of her size in the world and yet still slashing her claws.”

“Shut the fuck up. I am not a kitten.”

He breathes a tight laugh as he eyes your height, clearly finding you ridiculous. So what if you’re shorter than him? You are not a docile kitten, you’re a lioness ready to pounce on anyone who fucks with you.

Jungkook’s cadence is leveled, his voice condescendingly honeyed over as he folds his arms. “We have to get married, little kitten. We just have to, we have no choice.”

“Well, I don’t want to marry you.”

“And I don’t want to fucking marry you either!” Jungkook suddenly explodes, his eyes wild as emotion overtakes him. “But for fuck’s sake, I have to take over my father’s company! I have to marry someone and prove something to him! I have it the fucking worst, the worst, and yet I’m still trying. I’m still compromising.”

“You have it the worst?” Your voice cracks, tears brimming your tired eyes. “I was fucking ambushed by my mother, the woman I trust most in this fucking world! She betrayed me in front of your family, you can’t possibly have it worse than I do!”

“Please,” Jungkook laughs, his tone cutthroat. “You did a Google search on me? Well I did one on you, too. You’re the daughter of a wealthy lawyer couple with a famous law firm, you were fed everything on a silver spoon, too. How hard could you have it?”

Rage boils inside you, having half the mind to not march over and slap him across the face. He knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing. Indignation becomes your friend, gritting at him. “Says fucking you.”

Jungkook appears exhausted now, shaking his head. He sighs again, hands perching onto his hips as he peers up at the inky black sky. “Look, I don’t care if you don’t want to marry me. You’re the only way I’ll get my parents off my fucking back, so be a doll and just do what you’re told, yeah?”

Now’s the time you truly can’t stand the man, approaching him with angry steps to invade his personal space. “Don’t you dare call me a doll, and what? You’re just gonna use me like you did the other night? Leave me once your needs are satisfied?”

Jungkook becomes formidable then, shoving himself in your face with mere inches between your heated, angry bodies. You hate that you focus on his height in comparison to yours, large enough that he could easily manhandle you. He towers you, sexily so, and you use every ounce of your strength to fight back your arousal.

“If I recall correctly, you’re the one that had four orgasms that night, kitten, so whose needs were really satisfied?”

The rumble of his foreboding voice shoots electricity through you, shoving down the urge to remember those four wonderful orgasms he made explode in your body. His words still implant disgust within you, ready to shove the man overboard.

Jungkook seems to notice the way you swallow, his lips curving smugly, eyes dancing with amusement. “And here I thought you forgot about that night.”

You grind your teeth, hating his stupidly gorgeous face and sexy smirk. “Still doesn’t give you the right to use marrying me for your own benefit, you bastard. I want nothing to do with you.”

“Like fucking wise, wifey.”

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

“Then don’t you dare call me a bastard.”

You’re at your limit, hanging on by a fucking thread as Jungkook refuses to drop your gaze. He stares dauntingly, challenging you with his unmoving look. He’s still in your space, the gap between you two small enough to be closed by a single step. Your body reacts stupidly, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

And something about being burned intrigues you beyond explanation.

You huff in his face, shaking your head in controlled fury before shoving past him and marching towards the door, shooting him an alarming death glare. “Mark me, and mark me clearly, you mongrel. I’ll be damned before I wed you and share a fucking marriage bed with you. Goodbye.”

“And here’s the bed you’ll be sharing!”

You gawk at the suite with wide eyes, unable to speak. It’s similar to the room you share with your mother, except this room doesn’t have two beds… but one.

One fucking king sized bed that belongs to Jungkook.

“Mom, what is this?” You rudely question, ignoring your tone and the fact that Jungkook stands just behind you. “What do you mean I’m sharing his room?”

“Well, us parents just thought it’d be better for you two if you shared a room together, so we decided to place you in Jungkook’s. You’ll be married soon after all!” Your mother appears overly thrilled, smiling widely with her hands clasped together. You can’t believe her at all, shaking with resentment.

“Mom, you can’t make us share a room.” You fume, barely containing your temper. “You’ve already done enough, this is too much.”

“We don’t have much of an option, dear.” She coos, acting as though she hasn’t just entirely fucked up your life. “The Jeons suggested it and it’d be rude for us to not accept their hospitality. Besides, Jungkook’s a sweet boy, and I’d hurt him myself if he ever did anything to you.”

Your mother reaches towards Jungkook and cradles his cheek, her later warning bright in her eyes. Jungkook smiles politely, as though he wasn’t just up in your face and spitting poison half an hour ago. “Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N. I can assure you I’ll treat your daughter with respect. Always.”

Your mother hums delightfully at that, flashing a look at you. You refuse to meet her eyes, emotions still too raw inside you. She sighs and bids a farewell, leaving you two with your dicks in your hands.

You simmer angrily; your things were already transported here so you couldn’t make the excuse of leaving for them—shit. You suppress a snarl, hating every second of this.

“So, what was that about not sharing my bed, kitten?”

You scoff, hissing at him. “Fuck off, and don’t call me petnames.”

“But it’s so fun.”

Patience will certainly become your best friend with this man, whipping your head around with a death glare. “I’ll sleep on the Godforsaken couch if I have to. I am not sleeping with you.”

Jungkook laughs, dry and curt. He makes it a statement to walk towards you, slow and calculative. He invades your space as he pins you with an amused look, eyes as dangerous as the sea itself. “Don’t know if you’ve forgotten, kitten, but you’ve already slept with me.”

The pride in his smirk leaves you unhinged, shoving Jungkook away from you. “I remember it being the biggest mistake of my life.”

Jungkook laughs humourlessly this time, obviously not used to a sharp-tongued woman. His gaze harbours something you can’t quite distinguish, like he’s attempting to figure you out, entertained by solving whatever puzzle you appear to be to him.

You hate that he’s trying, indicative of his still unwavering will to try this marriage, to truly be bound to each other as husband and wife. You can’t understand it, can’t understand how the man is so eager to prove a point that he’s soiling one of the most precious things in human life; the bond of marriage.

It only makes you consider how your mother could do this to you, strap you to some random person’s son as though you’re her doll. For all she knew you were in a relationship, in love, goddamn handfast with someone else, but her refusal to divulge any information or inquire about your love life says enough.

She doesn’t fucking care.

Your thoughts send you swimming in the doubts of your mind, negativity poisoning the waters. You slowly step away from Jungkook, your anger subsiding like a tide that reveals the rocks and shards of your sorrow when it pulls backs.

Her betrayal hurts more than anything. You had always been her partner in crime, her confidant, her person, but she kept something so vital, so life-changing from you…

“I can’t believe my mother would do this…” The words escape you without thought, flattering onto the bed behind you. “I trusted her. I’ve trusted her my whole life… and she didn’t even tell me.”

The vulnerability is evident in your cadence, vision focused on nothing but the hardwood floor. You can’t see Jungkook, who stands a few feet away from you, but distinguish the slight sympathy in his tone when he speaks.

“What about your father?” He asks carefully, his hands finding his pockets. “Did he know?”

“He’s… sick.” You swallow, slapping concrete over your heart so it doesn’t crumble at the thought of your father. It’s a story you rarely tell, and one you’re certain you’ll never tell Jungkook. “Don’t ask about him, ever.”

Jungkook seems to get the memo, ending that topic. He sighs then, long and deep, before taking a few steps towards you. “I’m not even doing this for myself, you know.” He informs, his voice oddly soft, quiet. “I’m doing this for somebody else. Someone I care about.”

Your eyes flicker up to him. “Who?”

“My little sister, Mari.”

“You have a little sister?”

“And you have a little brother.” He adds with a charming smile, taking a seat as furthest from you as he could. You’re unsure whether he did it for your sake or his. “Google search, remember?

You silently absorb that information, tasting it. “Where is she now?”

“Asleep. She didn’t sleep the night before because she was too excited about the trip.”

Your lips don’t know which emotion to convey, left merely blinking. “How could someone like you be doing this for your little sister?”

Jungkook puffs air through his nose as he tongues his cheek, leaning back on his palms. “Just because you don’t like me, doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”

You weigh his words, chewing on them—they’re indicative of the exact predicament you’re in. He needs to be logical about this, there’s sincerely no way you two could agree to marriage when you don’t even know each other’s character, let alone favourite colour. “But that’s the point, Jungkook, I don’t like you nor do I know you well enough to even discern if you’re a bad person. Neither do you with me. Don’t you see that we can’t marry each other? It’s blasphemous.”

“It’s just a marriage, Y/N.” Jungkook leans back with a devil-may-care attitude, completely unbothered. “It doesn’t mean shit.”

“It may not mean shit to you, but it does to me.” You snap back, harmed by his idiotic nonchalance. “I’d rather marry a man who doesn’t leave my fucking bed in the middle of the night like a thief.”

Jungkook scoffs, his stupid doe eyes cutting you deep. “Says the woman who seduced me like a siren.” He spits. “Trust me, I want nothing to do with you and your sorry-ass way of getting attention.”

Now you’re hooked up to a livewire, darting off the bed and accusingly pointing. “Please, you’re the one who craves attention.” You snarl. “Anyone could take one good look at you and know that you only party and act like an idiot for mommy and daddy’s attention.”

“Shut the fuck up.” His eyes harden with clear fury; looks like you’ve hit a nerve.

“Well would you look at that? Seems like I’ve hit a bullseye.” You sweetly condescend. “I’m right, aren’t I? You act like a little tantrum-filled playboy to get mommy and daddy’s attention. What? The silver spoons aren’t enough?”

“I said,” Jungkook fumes, his jaw locked firm enough he could’ve been breaking a tooth. “Shut the fuck up, Y/N.”

What a fucking classic; another boy with anger and mommy and daddy issues, should you really be surprised? It’s a tale as old as time, and you have no energy to poke at it anymore. “I’d shut the fuck up if you put on your big boy pants and told your parents to fuck off.”

Jungkook’s face contorts with disbelief, shooting up from the bed. “Like you’re saying shit to your mother? You’re the same little girl sobbing in a corner just because your mommy made a decision without you. Why don’t you put on your big girl pants and tell your mother to fuck off?”

“Fuck you,” you growl, both words dripping with venom, eyes the very harbinger of death. “I’d rather eat grass than spend another minute with you.”

“Then get used to the taste of dirt, kitten. You’re spending a whole lifetime with me.”

You can’t believe him, you can’t believe how insolent and reckless and idiotic he is. Spend an entire lifetime together? Is he insane? He’d rather spend a lifetime with a stranger than stand up to his parents? He's the very definition of a fool.

“What is wrong with you? How are you okay with spending a lifetime with a stranger? How are you okay with that?”

Jungkook smirks, wide and charming. “Well, we’re not exactly strangers, are we, kitten?”

“Don’t fucking call me that, and stop brining up that night.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks with almost fascination, entertained by your denial. “Why do you want to forget it, Y/N? Is there something about that night that bothers you?”

He crosses the room to you now, his each step fluid, methodical. His approaching only makes you retreat in response, his aura enough to corrupt yours. His very existence alters the workings of yours, leaving your heart racing and your breath hitching and your skin heating. It made no sense, made no sense beyond being physically attracted to the man…

Oh fucking hell; you are ravenously attracted to this man.

And with him approaching you like this, with his eyes intent on you, his gaze hungry, you’re left nothing but to be his prey, succumbing to him.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He purrs, taking his last step before standing mere inches from you, scavenging the depths of your soul with his piercing gaze. “Tell me, why do you want to forget it? Why do you want to forget what our bodies felt like against each other?”

His words surge memories through you, seductive, bitter, sensual, powerful memories you’d much rather purge. You stand your ground despite shaking with arousal, despite your nipples hardening against your dress as you meet the man’s fiery gaze. “Because you were a mistake.”

Jungkook laughs that laugh that’s quick and dry, his voice deeper and richer than an aged bottle of Whiskey. “Was I really a mistake, Y/N? Do you really regret what happened between us?” He invades your space so much your ass nudges the vanity behind you, squeaking. His sex appeal oozes out of him as he stands this close, suffocating you, leaning down to your height until he cages you between himself and the vanity, hands gripping the edge either side of your hips.

You swallow harshly, hormones on high alert. “I-I do. I regret it.”

Again, one of his laughs, making it a statement to tongue his lip ring, tempting you with his tongue. You unconsciously watch the hypnotic movement, recalling exactly what it felt like to kiss him; majestic, Dionysian, ecstasy.

He dares graze his mouth along your ear, causing goosebumps to freckle your skin. “Do you really, Y/N? Because I think,” he breathes hotly, electrocuting your body. He chuckles at your jolt, voice dropping an octave. “I think that night bothers you because you hate how much you want me.”

Disgusted by his accuracy, you become angry, not even understanding this yourself. “Shut up.”

“Why, Y/N? Because I’m right?” He chides, voice utterly spell-binding. “Because you remember the taste of me? Because you remember my hands roaming your body? My lips worshiping your skin? Because you remember the feeling of me inside you, and never wanting it to end?”

You’re an idiot, you’re an absolute fool for not listening to your head and shoving him off, calling him every repulsive name in the English language and demanding that your mother cut off this marriage. You’re an idiot, because your body is reacting too easily to this man, falling right into the trap he so effortlessly crafts for you.

You want to resist, want to break this spell, want to tie up every memory of that night and store it away in a box, but you can’t. That night infiltrates your mind like a dam being let loose, remembering his coarse hands on your body, the cherry taste of his lip balm, how he speared you open with the sheer size of him, bigger than anything you’ve ever felt.

You can’t stomach this, overheating by the second. Your head feels light and your pussy can’t help but throb, hating his heat, his proximity, his fucking scent. “Jungkook… shut up.”

“God, the way you say my name.” He practically groans, his breath fanning across your cheek as he levels himself with you, lips only separated by mere inches of space. “I should’ve told you that night, could’ve heard you moan it.”

Oh, he’s dangerous, he’s hazardous and calamitous and fucking dangerous. The temptation of him is stronger than your will, using every weapon in your arsenal to fight him. “Jungkook…”

“Tell me, Y/N.” He rasps, as overheated as you, breathing hard. “How long did it take? For my hickeys to disappear? For my cologne to stop lingering on your skin? In your hair? How long will it take for you to forget the memory of me touching you? Kissing you? Moving inside you?”

You’re a goner, you’re so close to diving off the deep end, insane with lust. You hate that he’s dictating this situation, hate the power he’s exercising with that stupidly unwavering confidence. Two could play this game, and you need to remind him you’re not the kitten he keeps calling you.

You grab his collar without thinking, digging your claws into the expensive material. You tug him so close you could’ve been kissing him—his eyes widen in shock when you sneer. “And what about you, playboy? Do you like remembering that night because of how much you liked it? Because you can’t forget the way I moaned? The way my nails dug into your back and scratched you raw? The way I pulsed around you when I wanted more?”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to pant, chest rising and falling with his faltering self-control. You hear how hard he grips the vanity behind you, creaking under his grip. You challenge him nonetheless, ready to relish in the way this man snaps.

But he merely smiles, as shaky as it is, and accepts your challenge. “Seems like we’re back to remembering that night, then.”

You shake your head, scoffing at him. “Face it, Jeon. You say you don’t like me but you’re so ready to marry me because you can’t help but want me after that night, and you fucking hate it.”

He exhales haughtily, his smile as wicked as the devil himself. “Then why don’t you face it, too, kitten?” He breathes, lips hovering just above yours, touching them. “You don’t want to marry me because you’ve been aching for me ever since, and you hate knowing what’ll happen if we spend a lifetime together.”

God, you’re seconds from shoving him against your mouth. He’s got you so hot and bothered you’re squishing your pathetic thighs together to stop your pathetic essence from leaking out of your pathetic cunt. You can’t help but breathe into his mouth, mere centimeters from kissing, his hips pinning you to the vanity.

You swear you feel the ghost of his length for a millisecond, and you’re close to transforming into a wild animal. His eyes dart between your lashes and your mouth, clearly losing his sanity the same way you are. The heat between you is searing, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife, only the modicum of respect you have for yourselves keeping you from risking it all.

That very thought sucks you back into reality, recalling the situation you’re in with this man, the gravity of your future. This isn’t going to be a fairytale with a happy ending, nor is Jungkook ever going to be your knight in shining armour or Prince Charming you’ll fall in love with. He’s the bane of your existence, an impertinent bastard that isn’t worth selling your happiness for. All he wants is to marry you to benefit himself.

It has nothing to do with how he feels about you, and all about what you can do for him.

The very reminder of his stupidly sexy face saying those words makes you hurtle him off you, watching him stumble back a few steps. He shakes his head as though he were lifted from a trance, swallowing as his eyes meet yours. You level your breathing and snarl at him, teeth bared. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You don’t give him an opportunity to speak before you’re searching for your night bag, loaded with everything you need for your night routine. You salvage your suitcase for the Godforsaken thing but can’t find it, exasperated when you remember that your mother was using it this morning, so of course it wasn’t here.

You storm out of your shared room with Jungkook and stomp all the way down to your mother’s, using your keycard to open the door. You were glad to find it vacant of her, rummaging through the bathroom for the bag. You find it, but snatch other things she was sharing with you, far too angry with her to lend her anything anymore.

This one task alone eats up over 30 minutes, nearly exploding at just how many of your things you shared with your mother, and yet she couldn’t share this one fucking thing with you—the fate of your future.

As anger becomes your old friend, you march back to your new room, swinging the door open. You expect to harp on Jungkook and his idiocy again, having concocted seamless arguments to counter his ridiculous notion of marriage the entire walk back, but are shocked as you enter the room.

Jungkook has changed into his nightwear, most likely a pair of shorts with a white t-shirt. You can’t exactly tell, because he’s tugged a throw blanket over himself, his hand resting on his taut stomach as the other remains wedged underneath his head… with his long legs nearly dangling off the couch.

Your mouth opens and closes as you find the empty, untouched bed, attempting to manufacture a sentence. Saying anything seems like a moot point now, though, considering his breathing is stable enough to suggest he’s sleeping.

You shake your head, so utterly confused by him. You throw away any trifling thoughts and quietly prepare yourself for bed, careful not to wake him. You despise that his presence remains something you’re careful about, or that your kindness-deprived brain keeps considering the benevolence of his one action.

Labelling it as a stupid whim, you tuck yourself into the unoccupied bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering what on God’s green earth you’re going to do about Jungkook, and considering the hell you’d rather perish in than ever marry him.

a/n: y’all forgive me if it acc doesn’t only take around 24 hours to sail from seoul to hong kong on a direct cruise i swear i searched up the nautical miles and did the loose math if the boat doesn’t dock at any ports. I SWEAR I’M NOT DUMB so if i’m wrong forgive me <33

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #fic: to turn a bad thing good #jungkook series

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