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Holy CRAP! I am so late to finishing this because I was on vacation and then lost my phone in a lake and it was a whole mess. But I just decided to dive into the last two chapters and epilogue while work was slow and OH MY GOD.

This story was so good, so wonderful, so refreshing! I absolutely loved all your changes. Way better than the inspiration. I know I’ve said that, but after chapter 9 it really became a wholely different narrative and it’s way way better. I love how you explained the change to the real world and I love the conversations you built in, not just between the leads but with their besties too. It really fleshed out this story’s even more and gave it context and relevance beyond what could have been the easy route to finishing this story. It’s more honest this way. More realistic and believable and I love it. Again-fabulous story, had me hooked from the very beginning and I think by the end I was just completely in love with these two. Thank you for sharing your gift with us!

Coquet, Epilogue | JJK

Coquet, Epilogue

\ kō-​ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: established relationship; cussing; sexually explicit language; brief hints of penetrative sex; tooth-rotting fluff (these two are just so crazy for each other); a wild Yoongi appears!; JK in the shower because...🥴

Word count: 1,933K words

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: You'll need to read the previous chapter for this to make sense. There are a few callbacks from older chapters as well 😅 I'm going to miss this couple so much! Thank you all for coming along for the ride. 🥰

“Jagiya! Let’s go!”

“Okay, hold on! Sorry, I happen to be cursed with the tiniest bladder ever!” You yell out from the bathroom. You washed your hands, dried them, then proceeded to adjust your dress, smoothing out any wrinkles.

You open the door to Jungkook leaning against the frame with a questioning look on his face.

You widen your eyes at him in silent indignance. “See? I told you, we still have plenty of time to spare before we need to get to City Hall.”

“I’m fully aware of that.”

You scoffed. “Okay, so? Why do you keep rushing me then?”

He leans in, dangerously close to your face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off your ass since you slipped that dress on.”

Your stomach clenches instinctively while your pulse quickens. You sank your teeth into your lower lip.

You slowly grabbed a hold of his tie and started to twist it around your hand, tugging on it. “Well? Are you just going to stand here staring at it or are you going to do something about it?”

******

“Shit! It’s my mom.” You scramble to answer the phone. “Ma?”

“Excuse me? Don’t you ‘ma’ me! Where are you guys? You should have been here half an hour ago!” Your mom barks on the other line.

“Uh—w-we’re almost done here. Then we’ll hop in the car and go.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, well, how much longer? The county clerk might be calling Taehyung and Jennie’s names soon!”

You glanced up at Jungkook who continued to slowly and torturously push into you while smiling mischievously. You bit down on your lips to keep yourself from moaning.

“S-seven minutes and we’ll get on the road.” He flashed a grin before dipping his head to nudge your chin up to suck on your neck.

“That’s oddly specific,” your mom remarks.

“Mom, I gotta go. We’ll be done quicker when I’m off the phone.”

“Alright, alright. See you soon. Bye!” She hangs up.

“Fuck, I never thought that call would end—hhmmmfuck,” you moaned once he thrust into you quick and deep.

“Well, chop-chop—we’re in a time crunch, remember?” His mouth curves into a wide smile while he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure.

******

You and Jungkook arrive seconds before the justice of the peace walks out of the elevator at the top of the marble steps of the City Hall rotunda. Taehyung and Jennie stood side-by-side–him in a simple, gray suit and white button-up and her in a simple, ankle-length, fitted white dress, accented by a birdcage-style veil that was pinned to her hair with a trio of fresh gardenias that matched her modest bouquet and Taehyung’s boutonniere.

They exchanged vows and rings–which your dad carried since he served as best man. The ceremony was short and sweet but no less meaningful. Everyone cheered and a few of you even shed some tears after their first kiss as a married couple.

You came up to hug Taehyung tightly, extremely happy for him. You also move to give Jennie a hug, officially welcoming her to the family. You saw that same look in Taehyung’s eyes when he told you that he was ‘stupidly happy.’ You were happy that they figured things out and rebuilt their relationship. He and Jennie loved each other very much.

The reception was equally low-key. There were only about 30 people in attendance–close family and friends only. It was held at the couple’s favorite restaurant–that served galbi, samgyeopsal, that you can get with a comforting bowl of janchi guksu.

Right before dinner, you were milling around the banquet room. Guests held glasses of beer, some had wine while they chatted and joked around. It was all very relaxed.

“Geez, look at you. You’re such a goner,” Mindi says tauntingly as she sidles up to you. “You get all heart-eyes when you look at Jungkook. It’s so cute.” She pinches your cheek in a tiny way.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, unaware that you had been staring at him from afar while he’s in deep conversation with your dad and Taehyung. “Aish, don’t worry, unnie. I know he’s just as crazy in love with you, too.”

Jungkook stops for a moment and finally locks eyes with you. He gives you a wink before turning his attention back to his conversation.

Your stomach does a little somersault. Mindi’s cackles filled the air. “What did I tell you, unnie? craay-zzy!!!“

“You’re one to talk! Look at you, bringing your own wedding date,” you retorted, shifting your gaze at her boyfriend, Yoongi, who was currently chatting with Auntie Dahlia and Jimin.

You’d been privy to their relationship’s progress. Mindi often talked about how much she swooned at how Yoongi dotes on her. He even went so far as moving closer to her, cutting his travel time by over two hours.

“Trying to get in good with the in-laws, already, I see?”

She groans. “I hate how eomma is head-over-heels for him. She’s always asking when he’s going to come around next, always wanting him to stay for dinner.”

“And that’s bad?” You try to stifle your laughs.

“Not really, but…” she sighed deeply. “I just know that she can smell his bachelor blood in the water. I swear, she’s ready to pounce on him especially now that Jennie and Tae are married!” She then slips into a voice that resembles her mom’s. “Aish…Mindi-yaaah, you’re going to die alone! Don’t let this one go!”

You fall into absolute stitches.

She laughs then shakes her head. “I wish Jimin-oppa would just start dating someone already so it takes the pressure off me,” Mindi says. “Yoongi and I just want to be chill.”

“Then just be chill. I’ll talk to Auntie Dee. I got you.” You nudged at her.

She smiled at you. “Thanks, unnie. I better go and rescue my man before eomma eats him alive.” A few seconds after she walks away, you return to your seat to check your phone for any emails. Jungkook saunters over to you.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you.” You tilt your chin up to him and he presses his lips onto yours for a kiss before he sits. “That was a nice ceremony, huh?” You remarked.

“It was,” he agrees. “And they look happy. That’s all that matters.”

You hummed. “I think they were meant to do something small and intimate like this–instead of a huge party.”

He lowered his voice and whispered in your ear. “Is that what you want, too?”

Your eyebrow quirks and you slowly turn your attention to him. You’d been together just shy of a year and you’ve casually talked about the future but haven’t made any concrete plans since he was still working through a couple more years of his residency. He ended up choosing to specialize in internal medicine.

“Are you trying to ask me something?” You wonder out loud.

He shrugs, his expression completely ambiguous to you. “I’m just curious.”

“‘Curious’, huh?”

He gave you a nod while still anticipating your answer.

You sighed, then smiled at him. “If and when the time comes, all I want…is for you to be at the end of that aisle, waiting to meet me. Anything else is–icing on the cake.”

“Duly noted,” he says cryptically, looking away while sipping on his drink.

You keep eyeing him questioningly. “Will you also be taking notes while we’re at Mayumi’s wedding next month?”

He shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. “Hmm. I might.” You smiled softly while shaking your head.

After a moment, you stop and stare at him quietly again until he senses your eyes boring holes into him. “Can I help you with something, miss?” He gave you a cocky, flirtatious smile.

You tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting. “Are you real?” You ask softly.

With a chuckle, he picks up your hand and presses it to his chest. You feel his steady heartbeat against your palm. “I am.”

Your cheeks start to hurt from smiling. “Can you kiss me? Please?” Your tone is soft and affectionate.

Without hesitation, he does. 

He kissed you as if you were the best thing he’s ever tasted. A taste that he constantly craved and was helplessly addicted to. You lived for it.

“I love you,” he utters, nuzzling his nose to yours.

“I love you, too.”

You knew that you were right where you belonged.

******

You dared anyone to come up with a more awe-inspiring sight than Jeon Jungkook taking a shower.

It amazed you that he could be so matter-of-fact about running his hands over those perfectly defined slabs of muscle. Through the misted glass of his–now also your–bathroom shower. 

After over a year into dating, moving in with him was, as you both had said before, all but a forgone conclusion.

It started off with a toothbrush, followed by a hair dryer. A few pairs of underwear–only because he conveniently hid them from you a few times after you spent the night. Next thing you knew, you had your own drawer which eventually led to one whole dedicated side of his walk-in closet.

You even got used to the mattress that he kept on the living room floor and the bedroom. You found them odd at first. He reasoned that he kept it for convenience—so he could fall asleep wherever he wanted. You came around after he fucked you good on both of them. It was definitely convenient, alright.

You watched the rivulets of soapy water run down the ridges of his abdomen, flowing to the length of his legs.

Reaching out, his hand swipes at the condensation a few times, revealing his face and breaking your reverie. His brow arched in curiosity.

“What? I can’t enjoy the show?” Your tone was playful. The scent of his body wash mixing with the steam that was filling the bathroom, teased your senses and stirred your body into delirium.

You licked your lips, stifling a moan when he casually stroked the length of his cock.

“It’s an interactive show,” he said, his eyes warm with amusement. “Want to join me?”

“You’re such a fiend,” you laughed. In reality, your thighs were still slick with traces of his cum beneath your robe, since you were the lucky enough to wake up to his desire.

“Only for you.”

“Ding! Right answer, Dr. Jeon.”

He smirked. “I deserve a prize.”

You moved away from the threshold and stepped closer. “What would you suggest?”

“Whatever you like.” He answered with a devilish lilt to his voice. That, in itself, was a prize for you, too.

Tempting as it was, you knew that he was scrubbing in for a big procedure today and that the chief of surgery was expected to attend at the gallery. “I don’t think we’ll have enough time to give you what you deserve, baby. And I’d hate to cut things short when they’re just starting to get interesting.”

You set your left hand on the glass. The ring on your finger clinked against the surface. “Maybe we can revisit after your shift tonight? You, me…and whatever I want to do to you?”

He shifted in the stall, faced you head on, pulling the shower door open. His heated gaze slid so intensely over your face–you practically felt it. His features hardly gave away what he was thinking. But his eyes…they revealed tenderness, vulnerability, and love.

“I’m all yours, YN,” he said so quietly, you saw them more than heard them.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Yes,” you agreed. “You are.”#

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If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

This story, man. Sheesh. I’m a total wreck. From start to now it has been a rollercoaster of exceptional twists and turns. The characters-fascinating, the plot-creative and engaging, the cliffhangers-on point. I’m seriously robbed of words regularly. So in love.

And JK? Sexy as hell. Just complete manly manness and in the best ways possible as he’s not toxic or overbearing in his manliness. He’s just perfection. And I just love this world and these characters so much!

wicked • 14

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 10k

Previous | Next

tags: oral (f receiving), breath play, slight spit kink (it does not end well), lots of kissing >:)

Note: surprise shawtysss!!! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I have! I cannot apologize enough for this incredibly late chapter but I hope a lil somthing makes up for it ;)

“How do you feel?” 

“Umm, nervous?” 

Wearing armor was….different then you had anticipated, first off it was heavy- which you knew logically it was, but you didn’t realize just how heavy it was. Jungkook had gotten it fit for you once you had started up training and only in the past week had you started wearing it to train in. 

Time, however, had run out. 

Meaning today was the day. 

Keep reading

Hot. Damn. That was perfection! I was a bit behind on Paradise, but this still remains my favorite fic on tumblr and this Jungkook destroys me. I loved this hot and heavy chapter and the equal amounts of heavy feelings coming to light and getting clearer with every moment. I love OC and all of her awesome friends and all the wonderful twists and turns of this story.

Get some good rest, Sunny, and thank you for this masterpiece!

Paradise | JJK - Eleven

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, grinding, special guest appearances by Stripper!Namjoon and Stripper!Hoseok as well as Jimin and Taehyung, dirty talk, fingering, wall sex, slow fucking, mention of sex toys, the body chain returns, Jungkook is a smirky teasing demon (but what's new), Jungkook's stamina is insane, capitalism is a cockblock, gratuitous use of comic book character dog names, more dirty photos

Word Count: 16.4k (I'm sorry!)

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: Sorry this one took so long! I thought about splitting the chapter but ultimately felt it worked best kept as one. I'm technically on a tumblr hiatus, but I finished this today and want to get it out there. I appreciate everyone's patience with this story - I can't believe it's been over a year already! I'm really trying not to have such lengthy periods between chapters, but muses are pretty fucking fickle.

Been excited about getting to this chapter for a while, so I hope you like it! 🥺

Unbeta’d as usual. Please don't be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist

Friday morning arrives with a sense of relief. Not just for the end of the work week, but also for your run-in with Wendy last night and the tiniest possibility that you might have a way out of your job already. Would you seem too desperate if you emailed Wendy as soon as you logged on for work? It’s not like she didn’t understand your current situation - she left your company as soon as she could. But maybe you should wait a few days before reaching out.

The first thing you see upon logging in is an email from your boss, informing you that there will be a mandatory video call this afternoon for your entire department. The announcement is cryptic, only providing a time of one o'clock and a topic of “department changes.” This strikes you as ominous. Then you read an email from one of your coworkers that mentions whispers of possible layoffs looming at the end of this quarter. 

You immediately open a blank email and start composing a message to Wendy. 

The flowers that Jungkook gave you on your date last week are still sitting in a vase on your desk. Knowing you have a long day ahead of you, you pause long enough to lean over and breathe in, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the bouquet. The scent conquers up a memory of the soft smile on Jungkook’s face when you’d opened the door that night. The vision lingers in your mind as you dig into your work. 

An hour later, as you’re fighting with a report that has your head aching with frustration, your phone trills, "Be still, my heaaaaart…”

Of course it’s not Wendy, that would be ridiculously fast for her to be calling already with news of a job opportunity, but you still have a split second of nervous excitement when it goes off. And then you see who is actually calling and grin anyway. 

“Good morning, gorgeous,” a cheerful voice greets you. “Hey, Jin.” 

“I hope it’s okay that I’m calling. I realize you’re probably working.”

“I am, but I could use the break.”

“Great.” There’s a sigh on the other end. “I’m glad you got home okay last night. I know you said you didn’t mind, but I feel like I should apologize for leaving you at the reception like that.”

“Oh, Jin, it’s fine! Really.” Okay, yes, you were rather disappointed that that’s how your night ended, but you couldn’t exactly blame him for jumping at a great opportunity. The Nosh execs were clearly trying to woo him, he would’ve been a fool to walk away last night, no matter the reason. Right? “Tell me how the drinks at Dionysus went!”

“Well, my agent and I are having dinner tonight with their head of marketing, if that gives you any idea…?” 

“Jin! That’s fantastic!” There’s a chime from your laptop. Email from a supervisor asking if your report is finished yet. You stifle a sigh. “It sounds like they’re really excited to possibly work with you.” 

“Apparently Hongjoong-ssi’s wife is a big fan of my show, and when he went home last night and told her we’d met, she freaked out!” His windshield wiper laugh makes you giggle. “Told him he’d be an idiot if he didn’t sign a deal with me. So I guess I need to give her a shoutout on my next stream.” He laughs again. “It’s a little surreal how quickly things are moving.” 

“But it must be so satisfying, too.” If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Jin in the short time you’ve been dating him, it’s how hard he hustles. There’s something so admirable about the way he’s chasing his dream. Makes you wish you had one of your own to fight for. 

“Well, I’m not complaining. But speaking of satisfaction…”

“Smooth.” 

“Thank you. Listen, I still want to make last night up to you, if you’ll let me. What’s your weekend look like?”

“Um, tomorrow I have maid of honor duties in the morning, then I have a hot date with Jisoo.”

“Oh, really?” he hums. 

“Mmmhmm. But I’m free all day Sunday.” 

“Let’s go back to the hot date with Jisoo.” 

Rolling your eyes, you grin. “Nothing that exciting, I promise you. I think we’re just planning on doing face masks and a movie or two. What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, there are plenty of things on my mind, if you’d like to know…”

“For our date, Jin, not for me and Jisoo.” 

“I was talking about our date! What are you trying to imply?” His pitch rises in mock indignation before your giggles break him. “My offer to teach you how to cook still stands. Any interest in making dinner together?”

“Hmmm, free cooking lessons from an in-demand chef? Why would I say no to that?” 

“Perfect. I thought maybe I could take you to see the site of the restaurant my business partner and I are working on. We can use the kitchen there, since it’s bigger than mine or yours.” As if the massive kitchen in his luxury condo would be too small for the two of you to work in. “I can give you a private tour before the place opens and the waitlist gets long.” 

“You know, that brings me to an important question - how does it work when one’s dating the chef? Do I automatically get a reservation whenever I want, or…”

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he purrs, and you shiver at the sudden change in his tone. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“Oh, well, in that case…” you trail off, giggling. Your laptop chimes again. Same supervisor, same question. Can’t these people understand that you’re too busy flirting to work right now? “I gotta get back to work. Supervisors are stuffing my inbox.” 

“Kinky,” he squeaks. “I suppose I should get up and get moving myself. I need to start planning a menu for Sunday night. Is there anything in particular you’d like to learn how to make?”

“Ummm… honestly, I am a true novice here, Jin. The most complicated dish I can make is a basic stir fry. So I guess… whatever you think would make for a nice beginner meal?”

“All right. I’ll take care of it. And then I’ll see you on Sunday - let’s say I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” A third chime. Your supervisor is really testing you today. “I’ll see you on Sunday, Jin.” 

He murmurs a sweet goodbye, and you close your eyes, savoring the gentle tone of his voice before diving back into your report before your supervisor has an aneurysm. 

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of emails and spreadsheets. When noon arrives, you pad out to your kitchen to grab a granola bar and some grapes, too into the thick of things to want to stop and pick up a real meal. 

At 12:30, there’s a jarring beeping next door. 

You wonder if Jungkook slept as soundly as you did last night. That’s twice now that you’ve gotten an amazing night’s sleep thanks to your neighbor. He just seems to have the magic touch… even though he didn’t actually touch you last night. Didn’t seem to matter. 

If only he didn’t have to work tonight. The offer he made to test Lil Jackson Wang’s range is super tempting, knowing he could put you to sleep with just a few deft swipes on an app, but you want more than just another restful slumber. Not that an orgasm wouldn’t be welcome, but… what you’d really like, tonight, or maybe right now, as you yawn and stretch, would be to fall asleep in his arms again.

Hmmm. Well now. That’s a thought you’ve not really had before. You’ve repeatedly found yourself daydreaming in the past few weeks about Jungkook, but typically in these visions the two of you are doing anything but sleeping. 

Staring into space, you sigh, imagining being curled up in Jungkook’s warm embrace at this very moment. Picturing his messy bedhead and soft sleepy smile. Maybe you should’ve called out from work today. Then you could be experiencing this vision instead of simply dreaming about it.  

Maybe you could try to convince Jungkook to take a sick day himself. 

You grab your phone. 

(12:45): I have a confession

Kookie 🦌 (12:45): morning jagi

(12:45): Good morning, I have a confession

(12:46): Something I’ve been waiting for years to tell you

Kookie 🦌 (12:46): fuck

Kookie 🦌 (12:46): keep talking

(12:46): I hate your alarm clock

Kookie 🦌 (12:47): not exactly what i was hoping to hear

(12: 47): Just had to get that off my chest

Kookie 🦌 (12:47): feel better? 

(12:48): I do, actually. Thanks for listening

(12:48): What about you? Is your leg okay?

Kookie 🦌 (12:48): just woke up but feels ok so far

Kookie 🦌 (12:48): you want me to get rid of my alarm clock?

(12:49): Would you? I could replace it for you

Kookie 🦌 (12:49): i’m not going to say no to that

Kookie 🦌 (12:49): you can wake me up every day if you want

It’s funny how you can feel his smirk in his words. 

(12:49): Not what I meant but

(12:50): Not opposed either

(12:50): Although I don’t know if I’d be any good at getting you OUT of bed

Kookie 🦌 (12:51): come over

Your stomach swoops at his response, and you shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together, suddenly feeling needy. Just from two innocent words! What is this power that this man has over you?

If only you could go over there right now. Stupid capitalism. 

(12:52): For what, practice?

(12:52): Make sure I can get you up?

Kookie 🦌 (12:53): jagi i’m already up

Kookie 🦌 (12:53): just for you

His next text is a photo.

You nearly drop your phone. 

(12:53): I can’t believe I’m saying this but

(12:54): I have a stupid important call to jump on in a few minutes 

(12:54): Like possibly career changing important

Three grey dots appear and disappear, over and over, making you frown. You just said you don’t have much time. What is taking him so long to respond? 

A sudden knock on your door startles you off your chair. 

Kookie 🦌 (12:56): let me in?

As soon as the door is open, Jungkook’s arms are around you. Your fingers curl into his thick hair, tugging him as close as you can, and your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you, pressing himself into you, and holy fuck do you regret not calling in sick today.

With a happy sigh, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you. “Good morning.”

He’s shirtless, just a pair of black joggers slung low around his hips, doing little to hide his current condition. His hair is in fact just as shaggy as you’d imagined, a dark cloud on his head, and his eyes are scrunched in happiness to the point that they’ve become thin crescents. 

“Mmm, good morning, Kookie.” You sling your arms over his shoulders, keeping him close. His skin is so warm, heat radiating everywhere he touches you, and it’s all you can do not to just drag him into your apartment and straight into your bed. 

Why can’t you do that, again? Oh, right. Damn responsibilities. Adulting sucks. 

His cheeks redden a little. “I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to say hi.” His eyes fall to his hoodie, which you’ve cloaked yourself in again, and he yanks on the drawstrings playfully.

“Oh. Well. Hi,” you beam, and his eyes crinkle once more as his shy bunny smile makes an appearance. Fuck, how you love that smile. “Be honest. You just wanted to tease me.”

“Always.” The cute bunny disappears, leaving behind a smirky demon, who suddenly grinds into you, and you clap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from moaning loudly in the hallway. After last night’s vocal exercises with the toy, you really don’t need to annoy your other neighbors any further. “Don’t be late for your call, jagiya. And make sure you stay focused.”

You swat at his shoulder. “Fuck, you play dirty, Jeon Jungkook.” He just nods, looking way too pleased with himself, and you laugh as you untangle yourself from his embrace, pushing him away. 

He grins as he strolls backwards towards his apartment. “Go on, get on your call. You said it’s important, right?”

“Yeah.” 

“Then good luck.” 

After your meeting, in which your boss informs you that your department will be reorganizing, which is code for ‘downsizing,’ your coworker emails you again, this time to ask just what the hell was making you smile so much.

For the rest of the day, your phone barely leaves your hand. If Jungkook hadn’t already left his apartment while you were on your call, you might’ve been easily swayed to take the rest of the day off to hang out with him. But he had to head to the club to help Namjoon and Hoseok with a new routine they’ve been practicing. From the sound of it, Jungkook helps a lot of the dancers there to perfect their performances. You can’t blame them for wanting his help, replaying Jennie’s lap dance in your mind for the millionth time. 

The conversation winds on and on, the two of you discussing anything and everything. Your annoyance with work. His latest commission (a portrait for one of the bartenders at the club). Your excitement about Jennie’s wedding. 

When he sends you a photo of himself hugging Taehyung’s puppy, a guest at today’s practice, you make him promise to invite you the next time he dogsits. Then Jungkook mentions wanting a pup of his own, and together you brainstorm dog names that make you giggle harder with every increasingly ridiculous suggestion. Jungkook really likes Peter Barker, named after his favorite superhero, while you prefer M’Barku yourself. 

After ordering some takeout for dinner, you crash on your couch for the evening. There’s a random movie playing on the big screen in your living room, but all your attention is focused on the tiny screen still glued to your hand. Even once Jungkook’s started his shift at Paradise, he pops in during breaks between dances. Every time your phone vibrates, there’s a matching flutter in your chest. 

The previous night’s lack of sleep catches up to you, though, and soon you find yourself starting to drift off between Jungkook’s replies. He seems to be getting busier as the night wears on, taking longer and longer to respond. You close your eyes for a second, wondering if he’s performing the same routine again, with that same wicked smirk….

A thudding sound wakes you and you sit up with a start, realizing you a) fell asleep on your couch and b) managed to kick your tumbler off the end table in your sleep. You also discover that you’re still clutching your phone, and glance at the time. It’s almost three in the morning. 

You have messages waiting.

Kookie 🦌 (11:21): you still there? 

Kookie 🦌 (11:56): always falling asleep on me

Kookie 🦌 (12:45): sweet dreams jagi

Saturday morning arrives with sunny weather, a nice break from the gloomy cloudy grey of the week. Despite having slept most of the night on your couch, you feel pretty refreshed, even before you treat yourself to an iced coffee on your way to meet your friends for Jennie’s final wedding dress fitting. 

The dress shop is a tiny boutique only a few blocks from your apartment. Halfway there, you cross paths with a man walking an adorable little beagle. The puppy stops to sniff your sneakers, so you snap a quick photo and send it off to Jungkook. Even though it’s early for him, the hour being before noon, he responds immediately, and you’re so distracted by your chat that you walk a block past the shop before realizing you missed it. 

While the seamstress helps Jennie into her gown in the store’s only dressing room, you and the other girls mill about, flipping idly through the racks, catching up on each other’s weeks. Your friends are aghast when you talk about your evening with Jin and how he left you at the networking reception. Not even Lisa, the captain of Team Worldwide Handsome herself, thinks it was okay, even though you keep stressing how much it might’ve helped Jin’s career. But you just wave their concern away and change the subject, asking Rosé about her big date Friday night. Clearly, it went well, given the way she’s currently spinning about the room with a giant smile on her face.

“So then Namjoon and I were talking about our hobbies and I mentioned how I’ve been trying to take better care of my houseplants. You remember that orchid you got me for my birthday, Ji? Poor thing’s not doing so hot these days. He offered to give me some tips, because apparently he’s like an amateur botanist! He even said I could bring it over to his place. He’s got a tiny greenhouse out back, and he’ll nurse it back to health for me.” She beams. “Isn’t that cute?”

“Super cute!” Lisa confirms.

“Adorable,” you second.

“I couldn’t believe how sweet he was! Like, he was telling me how his halmeoni taught him about gardening, and he kept giving me this shy smile…” she dips her head, looking up at everyone bashfully, and giggles. “I swear to God, if our waiter hadn’t returned at that moment with our dessert, I was this close to leaping over the table and just eating him up.”  

“Okay, you had an amazing time at dinner, we get it. Get to the good stuff,” Jisoo demands.

Rosé sticks out her tongue. “This is the good stuff! Some of us like to actually talk to our dates.” 

“I talk to mine!” Jisoo retorts. “How else will they know what I want them to do?”

“I’m talking about having a real conversation, not giving out orders.” 

“I have conversations!” Rosé scoffs and Jisoo’s eyes narrow. “I’m serious! I go deep!”

“That’s what he said?” you whisper to Lisa, who giggles and shushes you.

“Oh yes, I’m sure “Come for me” has led you to some very profound discussions about the human condition!”

“Actually, not that you need to know, but yes, it has!”

You and Lisa just roll your eyes as the two squabble. It’s nothing new. They love winding each other up and usually spar until one of them gets bored. Holding a floor-length white sequined dress up to herself, Lisa tips her head as she stares at herself in the mirror near the dressing room. 

“So when do I get to meet one of Jungkook’s handsome friends?” She pauses. “Or Jungkook himself, for that matter?”

“You’ve met him,” you insist, and she shakes her head. “Uh. Haven’t you?” 

“Not really. Just said hello in passing a few times.”

“Huh.” Apparently you were so used to seeing your neighbor around now, you’d just assumed your friends had all met him. “I guess I could probably see if he and his friends wanted to hang out sometime, if you all wanted to? Like I’m sure Taehyung and Jimin would be in if Ji will be there, and now Namjoon and Rosé…” 

“Well, what about next Saturday? The wedding?” Rosé asks. Having abandoned their bickering, she and Jisoo join you at the mirror. 

“What about the wedding?” 

Rosé gives you a strange look. “Won’t we all get a chance to meet Jungkook there next week?” 

“Oh. Um, I’m not sure how you’re gonna do that, since I don’t think he was invited?”

All three of your friends groan your name at various volumes. 

“What??” 

“Babe. Why haven’t you asked him to be your date?” Jisoo inquires. 

“Well, for one thing, I didn’t tell Jennie I was bringing a plus one, and it’s a little late to throw one at her now…” 

“Oh, please,” Jennie’s voice calls out from the dressing room. “You know if you want to bring Jungkook, we’ll find room for him! I just assumed you and Jin would be coming together?”

Jisoo snorts.

“Um, well, actually…”

Another chorus of groans. 

“Look, I don’t want to make things awkward!”

“How would going with Jin be awkward?” 

“I think she meant picking one over the other might be weird, Lis.” Rosé replies.

You sigh, rubbing your temples with the tips of your fingers. “I just don’t know what will happen if they’re both in the same room again. You remember what I told you about Jungkook when I ran into him at Dionysus, right? The way he reacted to seeing me on my date with Jin?” 

“Oh yeah,” Jisoo hums as the others nod. “That was ridiculously hot of Bambi.” 

Hot or not, it had left your head swimming. “Yeah, well, I’m not looking for a repeat. I mean, what if they get into some sort of argument or something?”

Lisa cocks an eyebrow. “You think they might fight over you?” 

You shrug. “I mean, no. Not really. Neither of them seem the type to punch another guy over a girl.” Although Jungkook does seem to have a sharp tongue when he’s drunk. Would he say something rude directly to Jin’s face? How would Jin react? “I don’t think, at least.” 

“Well, if you’re unsure, how about we not find out at my wedding?” Jennie suggests cheerfully. “Let’s just keep everything nice and neat and as drama-free as possible!”

Jisoo sighs. “Speaking of drama, Jennie, will you come out already? I think you’ve amped up the anticipation enough.” 

“Okay, but only because you asked so sweetly, Ji.” 

The kindly grey-haired seamstress reappears, throwing open the curtains to the dressing room, and Jennie emerges. She’s a vision in white, swathed in lace and satin, the train of her gown trailing behind her as she slowly approaches the rest of you. 

“Jennie!”

“Beautiful!”

“Oh my god, you’re gorgeous!!”

A loud sob makes you all turn. As you watch with your mouth agape, Jisoo bursts into ugly, full-body-wracking tears. The rest of you coo and rush to hug her as Jennie shakes her head.

“You’re such a softie, Kim Jisoo!” She reaches into the scrum, careful not to get too close and wrinkle her dress, and squeezes Jisoo’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Just - just happy for you!” comes a muffled response from where Jisoo’s face is buried in Lisa’s shirt. 

“She’ll be okay,” you assure Jennie, rubbing Jisoo’s back gently. “I’ll pull her back together tonight when we’re hanging out. But how do you feel right now? I’m honestly surprised you’re not in here crying with her.” 

Jennie inspects her reflection, fingers straightening the lace over her bodice. After a moment, she catches your eye in the mirror. The smile that lights up her face is blinding, and for a second you’re afraid you might start bawling like Jisoo. 

“I’m tempted to text Yoongi right now and tell him to get his cute lil’ peach down here so I can marry him this very minute. I can’t wait, I’m just so excited!” 

The subject of your wedding date (or lack thereof) doesn’t come up again as the morning fades into afternoon. Your friends are more interested in showering Jennie with love. As are you. But it gnaws at you anyway, as you listen to your friends breathlessly discussing the upcoming ceremony. 

Should you ask Jungkook to be your date? Would Jin get upset if you didn’t ask him? How weird would it really be to have them both there? Maybe you’re making a bigger deal out of this than you should. 

God knows it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done that. 

Jisoo knocks on your door around eight with a bottle of your favorite green grape soju in hand, dressed like she’s ready for the club - black crop top with a keyhole cutout over her chest, scandalously short pink leather skirt, hair pulled up in a high ponytail and eyeliner winged straight to the heavens.

“Holy shit,” you greet her. “You look amazing, but uhhhh maybe a little overdressed for a movie?”

She swans into your apartment, the heels of her boots clicking on the hardwood floor. “The movie can wait. It’s Saturday night. Time to get fucked up.” 

“Uh.” The last time you got quote unquote ‘fucked up’ was the night you went to Dionysus, and recalling the morning after makes your stomach lurch a little. Following your friend into your kitchen, you watch as she pulls two shot glasses down from your cupboard, then pours you both a dram. “Okay. I’m not opposed to having some soju with you tonight, but the outfit still seems like overkill.” 

“Babe.” Jisoo holds out your glass for you to take. “Obviously we’re going out. We’re too young and gorgeous to be wasting ourselves away on your couch tonight! Do you really want to deprive the world of this?” She waves her hand to indicate the two of you, and you look down at yourself with a raised brow.

“Actually, I think the couch is the only place for this,” you reply, gesturing to your clothes. Leggings and Jungkook’s hoodie. The sweatshirt has become your second skin at this point. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll take care of that,” Jisoo informs you. “We’ll find you something to wear. But first things first.” She lifts her glass in the air. “Geonbae!”

The liquor goes down so smoothly. For all her deadpan ability, Jisoo can’t stop herself from making a face at the tang of the shot. It’s the same face she’s made every time you’ve shared this soju over the years. A wave of nostalgia rolls over you, bringing with it all the memories of evenings spent drinking and laughing with your friend, and you throw your arms around her and give her a tight squeeze.

“I know it’s good soju, but this is a little much,” she mutters from where her lips are smushed into your shoulder.

“Sorry. I’m just really happy we’re hanging out. I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh god, you’ve bypassed the funny drunk phase and gone straight to sappy reminiscing, haven’t you? Let’s get you some water, lightweight.” 

Double fisting soju and water, you let Jisoo lead you into your bedroom. There’s no point in trying to argue with her about going out, so you don’t. At the very least, maybe if you get ready quickly, you can come home sooner than later. Sitting on your bed, you play dj and queue up some music on your phone while Jisoo stares at your closet in horror. 

“There are just… so many hoodies. Why?” 

“You sound like Jennie. And what’s wrong with hoodies, anyway?! They’re comfortable!” 

Jisoo merely grunts while rifling through your clothes. For a few minutes, you just vibe to the music as your friend rummages, mumbling the occasional “What on earth” or “Oh, babe, no,” under her breath as she flips through the hangers.

“You know I can hear you, right?” 

She simply shoots you a tragic look.

“Anyway… I noticed you didn’t say anything in the shop earlier about what you did last night.”

“Nothing to report. I stayed in.” 

“Alone?” 

Your phone buzzes. 

Kookie 🦌 (8:15): matt murdog

Grinning, you glance at Jisoo, still elbow-deep in your closet, before replying. 

(8:15): That one’s a bit of a stretch

Jisoo pauses, hands in mid-pull on a shirt you immediately veto with a shake of your head. “Yes. Alone. I’m not always out with someone.” 

“Y’know, it seems like you haven’t been seeing a lot of different someones lately. Just Taehyung. Or Jimin. Or both.” 

Kookie 🦌 (8:17): pupper potts

(8:17): Honestly, not the worst

(8:18): Woofsbane

Kookie 🦌 (8:18): deep pull

Kookie 🦌 (8:18): respect

Jisoo hasn’t said anything while you’ve been texting, and you put your phone down to watch her studiously skim through your clothing. “Is there anything there you want to tell me, Ji?”

She stops again, this time with a dress you haven’t worn in ages. You start to shake your head, then reconsider, gesturing for her to hand it to you. “If I had anything to tell you, I would. Don’t I always?” 

“Yeah. I suppose you do.” Shimmying out of your clothes, you tug the dress over your head. It still fits, and if anything, looks even better now that you’re curvier than you used to be. “Is it me or does my ass look amazing in this?”

“It’s you.” Jisoo laughs, ducking the pillow you throw in her direction. “No, you’re right, you look fucking fantastic. I think we have a winner.” She pours another round of shots for you to tip back. 

Settling in front of your makeup mirror, you smile sweetly at your friend. “Do my makeup? Please? I can never get my eyeliner to wing as perfectly as you do.” 

“Flatterer.” 

As Jisoo rummages through your makeup, you pour more shots. Jisoo clears her throat. “They were both working.” 

“Huh?” 

“Last night. Tae and Min were both at Paradise.” She gently swipes some color over your eyelids. “That’s why I was at home, alone.” 

“I’m sorry, Tae and Min?” 

“Stop smiling like that and hold still!”

But you can’t stop grinning at your friend as she frowns, trying not to poke you in the eye with a liquid liner. “You gave them nicknames? And sat at home alone because they were at work? Ji, are you even dating anyone else right now?”

Jisoo rolls her eyes. “Calm down, will you? Otherwise, your eyeliner is going to be less of a wing and more of a smear.” You hold as still as you can, despite the and she sighs. “No, I haven’t seen anyone else in a few weeks. Just Tae and Min, and yes, that is what I call them, and no, it is not technically exclusive. We’ve never discussed anything. I just… haven’t wanted anyone else.” She scowls. “Stop looking at me like that!” 

“Like what?” You glance in the mirror as she finishes your eyes, turning your face left and right to admire her skill. 

“Like I have little cartoon hearts in my eyes. I’m not in love. But I am happy right now, and I don’t see any reason for that to change by bringing someone else into the mix. Or whatever. I just… I want them. And right now, I have them. That’s all I need.” 

“Well, fuck.” 

She arches a brow at your pithy response, and it’s your turn to sigh. 

“I just envy you sometimes, you know?”

“Of course you do,” she drawls, flashing you a grin. “But what in particular is it this time?” 

“The way you just know what you want, and go for it!”

Jisoo plops down on your bed, assessing you with one of her scrutinizing looks. “Okay, who got in your head now?”

“No one. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately. About what I want. Take work, for example. I’ve gotten stuck in this job because I’ve just gone with the flow for so long. I never intended to end up where I am, but the company kept promoting me, kept moving me around from department to department, and I just went along with it. I never really stopped to think about what I wanted.” 

Your friend nods slowly. “And now you’re starting to?” 

“Yeah. And there’s just so much to consider.” 

“Is there, though?”

“What do you mean?” 

Jisoo shrugs. “You said you didn’t think about what you wanted. So that’s all you need to do now. Just go for what you want.”

But you don’t know what you want. Isn’t that obvious? And even if you did, it’s not as easy as Jisoo makes it sound. For you, at least. For her, it is. Anything she’s ever wanted, she’s gone after. No second guessing, no worrying about what others might think or say, not stopping until she obtains whatever her heart desires.

When you don’t answer, she frowns, brows knitting together in concern. “Come on. It’s not that hard, is it?”

“I guess not. I just don’t know where to start.” 

“Do you want me to try to help you? Or do you wanna keep drinking and forget your problems?”

Both, honestly. “Help. Help me please.” 

Jisoo motions for you to join her on the bed. Curling your legs under you, you glance at the phone in your hand. No new messages. “Let’s play a round of rapid fire answers. I’ll ask you a few questions and you have to answer immediately, no thinking.”

Lifting your head, you give her a funny look. “This is going to help?” 

“Yes. It’ll force you to bypass the portion of your brain prone to overthinking, where all the ‘what ifs’ dwell. Trust your instincts, and answer right away. Okay?” 

“Fine. Why not.” 

“Okay.” She nods, clapping her hands. “What’s better, spring or fall?” She speaks quickly, words clipped as she spits them out, and you answer just as fast.

“Spring.” 

“Do you prefer pants or skirts?” 

“Pants.” 

“Favorite soju flavor?” 

“Green apple.” 

“Black or white?” 

“Black.” 

“What’s your favorite word?” 

“Mellifluous.” 

“Night or day?” 

“Night.” 

“Jin or Jungkook?”

“Jung - Jisoo!” 

“Haaaa!” Jisoo claps again, either to end the questions or to applaud herself for her cleverness. “I knew it!” 

“Fuck you, you don’t know anything! I was just in a rhythm.” Your lower lip slides out in a pout. She plucks it between her thumb and forefinger and you dissolve into giggles. Jisoo’s little game might not have helped you figure out your problem, but it did make you laugh, and you feel a little lighter now. 

“Sure you were, babe. Also, mellifluous? Really?” 

“I think it’s pretty!” 

She grins. “As pretty as Jungkook?” 

Your phone buzzes. 

“Okay, who keeps texting you??” Jisoo snatches the phone before you can, eyebrows rising as she glances at the screen. She whistles before tossing you the device. “We summoned the sexy demon himself. Bambi says hi.” 

You flip the phone over in your hands and suck in a breath. Jungkook sent you a photo of his wardrobe for his shift tonight. He’s wearing the body chain again, trailing beneath a low-cut leopard print shirt and tight satin pants. Low-cut doesn’t really do justice to describing the top, which is open all the way down to his navel. That familiar smirk is back, igniting a fire inside you. 

“Speaking of nicknames… Kookie?” 

Heat creeps into your face. “What? It’s cute!”

Jisoo snorts. “I guess he’s just too sweet, huh?” You resist the urge to whack her with another pillow. “You know, if you want to invite him to go out with us, I would be okay with that.”

“What happened to tonight being just the two of us?” 

She shrugs. “I’m just saying. I might want to dance tonight, and I know you’d rather stick your tongue in an electric socket than dance.” She’s right. “He’d probably dance with me, at least. And he looks like he’s going out, anyway.” 

“Ah, yeah, that’s actually his stagewear. He’s working tonight.”

“Mmm, I see.” She leans over to glance at the text again, but you tip the screen away before she can read the message he sent after the photo, not wanting to explain to her what he means by asking if you want to play with that app again tonight. “He sent you a photo the other day of his outfit for work, didn’t he? With the same chain?” 

“Yeah.”

“So is this a regular thing, then?”

“I guess?” Trailing off, you turn your attention back to your phone, careful not to scroll back too far to the pic Jungkook sent you this morning. No need to share that one with anyone else. “We text. He sends photos. Is that so surprising? I mean, I am dating the guy….”

“You ever send any back?” 

“Not yet.” It has crossed your mind, the idea of taking some photos of your own. But you’re not as comfortable in front of the lens as he is. And as long as he enjoys sending you these pictures, you’re sure as fuck not going to complain. “How am I supposed to compete with that?” You gesture to the screen.

“It’s not about competing? But also, have you seen yourself lately? You’re hot as fuck, babe. Stop selling yourself short.” She holds out her hand. “Let’s send him one right now.”

“Ji…”

She keeps her palm out, and you hand the phone over. You can always just delete it if you don’t like it. 

“Ok, tuck your legs under you more. Yeah, like that. Now arch your back a little.”

“Seriously? I’m just sending him a photo, not working on a thumbnail for a camgirl vid.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

You grouse a little more, but you do as instructed. Jisoo hums happily as she snaps a pic.

“Oh, that’s perfect.”

She tosses the phone back and you blink. You actually look kinda… hot? Quickly, you send the photo off. 

(8:27): Jisoo’s dragging me out tonight

(8:27): Save me?

“Fuck, I might need you to do a whole photoshoot, Ji. Did Tae teach you some tricks or something?” 

She wiggles her brows and you roll your eyes. 

“Forget I asked.” 

“So does Jin ever send you any pictures?”

You shake your head, rising off the bed and grabbing your drinks, heading for your kitchen. “Nope. We’ve mostly just texted about making plans. He has called me a few times.”  

“He calls you? Huh.” She snorts. “That’s surprising. You hate talking on the phone.”  

“I mean, we haven’t really talked. They’re not conversations so much as us planning our dates.” Not that you’d really paused to think about it much, but Jin hasn’t reached out to you very often. Not like Jungkook has. Of course, communication goes both ways, and you haven’t texted Jin out of the blue, either. 

But that doesn’t mean anything, really. Other than the group chat, you’re not much of a texter.

Usually. Except for the last few days. With Jungkook.

“Interesting.” Jisoo hums, and you sigh.

“Ji, enough with the questions! I thought you said the other day you were gonna let me figure this out at my own pace?” 

“Figure what out?” The head tilt you give her makes her laugh. She knows you know exactly what she’s trying to get at with all these questions. “Okay, fine, I’m sorry! I just feel like maybe you know what you want, babe. You’re just afraid to voice it.” 

Your head is starting to get that swirly sensation that drinking brings. You yearn to lean into it. “I think I’m going to need more alcohol if this is how the night is going to go.”

“That can be arranged.” She starts to pour another shot of soju, but your phone goes off, and she snatches it up instead, dodging your hands as she reads the message out loud.

Kookie 🦌 (8:29): goddamn jagi

Kookie 🦌 (8:29): if i were there you wouldn’t be leaving that bed

“I think he liked the picture,” Jisoo informs you while you chase her down the hallway, cursing your friend’s natural athleticism as she continues to sidestep you. “What should we say back - ooh, wait, what did he say now?” 

Kookie 🦌 (8:30): take that toy with you and i’ll make sure you have a good time tonight

Her eyes widen, as does her smile, and you finally manage to grab your phone back, holding up a finger to silence her before she begins. 

“Let’s get going and I’ll tell you on the way, okay?” 

“Bitch, you better!”

With one last shot of soju, the two of you head out. Jisoo orders a ride, saying it’ll be cheaper to drive out to a bar on the edge of town where she knows the bartender so you can drink for free. You’re too tipsy to question her logic, letting the alcohol carry your thoughts away, hoping your worries will go, too. 

Your driver is an older gentleman who politely ignores the two of you as you giggle in the backseat. True to your word, you fill Jisoo in on Jungkook and Lil Jackson Wang’s introduction the other night. Jisoo then regales you with a story of the time she wore a pair of vibrating panties to work, only for them to malfunction and get stuck on the highest setting while she was trapped between floors in an elevator with her boss. By the time the car stops, you’re snorting with laughter at Jisoo’s tale, too swept away in your delight to realize where you are, until you climb out of the vehicle. 

To be greeted by the bright neon lights of Paradise.

“Um. Jisoo.” You stand and stare at the building in front of you. “What are we doing here?” 

“I told you. I know the bartender here!” Jisoo’s smile is the smuggest of grins. “Come on!” 

“You know the… are you kidding me?!” You drop your voice, grabbing her arm as she tries to walk towards the door. “You were talking about Jimin?!” 

“Yes, I was talking about Jimin! Why are you whispering??”

“I don’t know!” you hiss back.

Truthfully, you don’t know. You’re caught off guard, not expecting to be here of all places. Although as well as you know your friend, you probably shouldn’t be surprised that she’d decided to bring you back here.

“Well, stop it, because it’s freaking me out.” Jisoo uses your grip on her arm to pull you towards the entrance. “I need a drink!” But she stops at the look on your face. “Uh-oh. What’s going on? Do you not want to be here?” 

No, you very much want to be here. When it comes to want, at this moment, unlike earlier, there’s no confusion clouding your mind whatsoever. You want to walk straight through that door and find him. 

The question is, should you be here? 

Will Jungkook think it’s creepy or strange to have you show up here unexpectedly? It’s not like he’s your boyfriend or anything. Is it weird to visit someone you’ve just started dating at their place of work? Especially if they work at a strip club? 

Fuck, maybe you’re overthinking things again. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Or maybe that’s the soju. Maybe you should ask the soju what it would do in this situation - go home? Or go inside? 

You’re not sure who made the decision but suddenly you’re walking, gesturing for Jisoo to follow.

“Come on, Jimin’s not going to give me any free drinks if you’re not with me.” 

The strip club is packed tonight, blue and pink lighting bathing the other customers in a vivid kaleidoscopic glow. Jisoo heads directly to the bar, propping herself against the counter. The pink-haired man behind it has his back to you, so Jisoo clears her throat until he turns around. 

“Kitten!” Jimin smiles brightly, eyes crinkling in joy. Unlike the waiters here, Jimin wears a shirt, but it’s a black mesh top that leaves very little to the imagination. Your eyes dip a little to find “Nevermind” tattooed on his side. “Just give me one second.” 

He turns his back again to finish whatever he’s concocting and you take advantage to catch Jisoo’s eye and mouth “Kitten?!” She flips you off before he turns back with a cocktail in each hand, placing them on a tray on the bartop before leaning over. 

“Did you come to visit us?” Jimin purrs, fingers lightly tracing over the back of Jisoo’s hand. “I missed you last night.” 

“Aw, poor baby. So you mean the video I sent wasn’t enough?” 

Oh, you’re so texting the group chat later. But right now, you keep your gaze fixed on a drink menu, trying to pretend like you’re not hearing every word Jimin and Jisoo exchange. They appear to have completely forgotten you’re standing there. It’d be cute if it didn’t feel like they were two seconds from fucking on the bartop.

It occurs to you that that’s not beyond the realm of possibility of things they’re already done, and you delicately remove your clutch from the counter.

“You know it wasn’t nearly enough. Not when I could - “ Jimin whispers something into Jisoo’s ear, making the corner of her mouth curl. The heated look they share lasts so long, you start to feel like you’re intruding on something, and look away. 

There’s no one on stage, a slight lull in the usual din as the crowd waits for the next act. As your friend and her bartender murmur quietly beside you, you scan the floor. There are several incredibly handsome shirtless men wandering between the tables, flirting and bringing drinks, but no familiar doe eyes to be found. 

So he’s probably giving a private dance right now. That’s cool. That’s a good thing. Make that money. Your nose scrunches. The soju’s loud.   

A dark-haired man slides up behind Jisoo, leaning over her and across the bar to grab a couple of drink umbrellas, and you hear, “Well, if it isn’t my favorite kitty cat,” before he moves towards you with a boxy grin. “And my dear friend.” 

“Hi Taehyung.” With a smile of your own, you accept the hug he gives you. 

“Hi angel. Have you come to see Jungkook?” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbles in your ear as he reaches past you to grab the tray of drinks. You try your best to keep your gaze from wandering too low, but it’s difficult when he’s standing next to you in naught but a tight pair of black leather pants and a smile. You do get a good eyeful of his toned stomach before you divert your gaze.

“She’s here because I promised her free drinks,” Jisoo answers. You catch a slight twitch of Jimin’s eyebrow at the word ‘free.’ “But if Jungkook happens to be around, I’m sure she won’t mind. Right, babe?”

Three pairs of eyes lock onto you. You feel like diving over the bar and hiding, for some reason. 

“I mean, if he’s available…” you trail off lamely. Very smooth.

Taehyung surveys the crowd. “He’s out there somewhere. I’ll find him for you.” He flashes that brilliant smile again. “I know he’ll be happy to hear you’re here.” 

“Thanks, Taehyung.” He nods and disappears into the throngs of drunken revelers starting to come alive again as another dancer takes the stage. The volume in the room suddenly doubles as people start shouting and throwing money, and you crane your neck until you can make out the figure on stage, spotting blond hair. Not him. With a sigh, you turn back to the bar. 

“So, free drinks, huh?” Jimin inquires, smirking at Jisoo. 

“Just a line to get her out of her apartment.” You’d protest, but there’s no point. Jisoo and Jimin are in their own world as she skims her fingers up his forearm. “You know I’ll pay. I wouldn’t deny you what you’ve earned.” 

Another heated look. You can’t wait to torment her about this later. But right now, you’d like a cocktail and to sit down for a minute, so you bump her with your shoulder.

“Ok, kitten, can we please get our drinks now? I can’t stand in these heels all night.” 

With your cocktail in hand - an Adios Motherfucker because they were strong as fuck the last time you were here - you spy a couple of customers vacating a table not far from the stage and claim the spot for yourselves. The rest of the crowd is busy cheering on the very cute blond man working it out on stage. His hypnotic hips have whipped the other patrons into a frenzy, and you and Jisoo happily join in. 

“Yes, baby, take it off!” As he tears away his shirt and pants, Jisoo reaches into her clutch and pulls out some cash, tossing it in the direction of the stage. You watch her make it rain with an incredulous expression.

“Let’s give it up for Bang Chan!” the DJ booms, and the man on stage takes a bow before running off. The spotlights dim, the lights in the room coming back up, as the stage is cleaned for the next performance. 

“Came prepared, huh?” Snatching one of the bills from where it fell on the table, you wave it in front of Jisoo’s face. “Be honest - were you planning on bringing me here all along?”

Your friend is the picture of perfect nonchalance as she shrugs, sipping on her whisky. “I just thought we could have some fun here tonight. It wasn’t something I’d considered when we made plans earlier this week. Just a spur of the moment decision.” 

“But the cash?” Who carries cash anymore?

“Maybe I’ve started keeping some bills on me.” Her shoulders are up around her ears. “Just in case!” 

“Just in case…” You trail off as you remember something she’d said in the group chat a while ago, about Paradise being a great place to take a date. Of course. She’s probably been here with one of her boys. Or both. Perhaps she comes alone, to watch them work.

That seems supportive, in a weird way. Or maybe it’s not weird. Maybe you just think it’s weird because now you’re wondering if you should be doing that. 

Before you can fall any further down that thought spiral, Taehyung appears at your table. He places two drinks on the table, even though you haven’t ordered more yet, before he brushes his hand down Jisoo’s arm. “Are you ladies having a good time?” 

“Of course we are.” Jisoo smiles up at the handsome man, letting her fingers glide lightly over his. 

“That’s what I like to hear. But I’m afraid I have some bad news, angel.” You cock your head curiously as Taehyung gives you an apologetic smile. “Jungkook’s a little tied up tonight. He and a couple of the other dancers have been booked for some private parties.” He leans a little closer. “He was very disappointed that he couldn’t come out here and say hello himself.” 

“Oh.” And just like that, your heart sinks, nearly knocking you breathless with how unexpectedly fast it dives. Well, of course he’s busy. Who wouldn’t want a dance from him? Or a whole evening of dances, apparently, if he’s been requested for a private party. Multiple parties, actually, if you heard Taehyung right.

There’s a tiny voice whispering in your head right now, filling your mind with all the possibilities of what’s happening in that room. The way he’s probably grinding up on someone, watching them with darkened eyes, teasing them with his moves. You try to shut the flood of images out but can’t. 

Your gut twists sharply. 

Oh god, you’re jealous, aren’t you? This is so stupid! It’s literally his job to do those things, to entice and seduce, and you know this, yet if you think about it another second longer, you might burst.

“Aw, I’m sorry, babe.” Your face must telegraph your dismay, because Jisoo finds your hand under the table and gives it a little squeeze. 

Taehyung nods, warm hand patting your shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, even though Jungkook can’t see you right now, he’s still going to make sure you enjoy yourself.” With one last gentle touch, he winks at you both before sauntering away. 

“You gonna be okay?” 

Nodding, you drain the last of your drink and reach for the fresh cocktail. “I’ll be fine. I mean, of course he’s busy, right? He’s at work. It was nice of him to send us some drinks, at least.” 

“Very sweet of him,” Jisoo agrees. “I’m still sorry, though. I just thought from all those messages from Jungkook earlier that he might like it if you stopped by here to see him. And vice versa.

Obviously, I didn’t count on him being so in demand.” She shakes her head, swirling the ice in her glass. “That was pretty dumb of me in retrospect.”

“Aw, Ji! Stop it.” 

She ignores you, rambling on. “I thought we’d have a few drinks, watch a few dances, you’d go sit on your neighbor’s face in one of the champagne rooms. You know, have ourselves a killer night. But now it’s just the two of us.” 

“Ji, that’s all I wanted earlier!”

“To sit on Jungkook’s gorgeous mug? I know.” 

Smacking her arm lightly, you shake your head. “Fuck off, you know what I mean. I thought tonight was going to be just the two of us anyway. So don’t apologize.” 

“All right, are we ready for more?” The speakers overhead suddenly buzz as the DJ addresses the crowd. 

The room practically vibrates with anticipation as the lights go down again and the other spectators around you shout their response to the mc’s question. Okay. Sure. You’re sad that you can’t see Jungkook right now (don’t think about what he’s doing, don’t think about it), but that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, right? Just let it all go, all the thoughts and questions and worries, sit back, and enjoy the show. 

“Well, it sounds like you’re ready, but I don’t know…” the DJ playfully responds, and the crowd whoops louder. “I’m not sure if any of you are ready for this next double act! Coming to the stage now, please welcome Hoseok and Joon!” 

The platinum blond and the blue-haired man bound onto the stage, dressed identically in tight white buttoned-down shirts and even tighter black pants. Instead of heading towards the chairs that have been set up facing each other in the middle, they roam the edge of the stage, pointing into the fray. 

“We’re going to need a few volunteers for this one. Is there anyone out there who’d like to help these two out?” From the audience’s enthusiastic reaction, you’d say that yes, there are a few people who would like to help. Just a couple.

Clapping your hands in glee, you grab your clutch, ready to fire off a text to Rosé, knowing she’s going to lose her mind when she finds out you’re about to watch Namjoon dance. But before you can dig out your phone, Taehyung reappears, placing a hand on both you and Jisoo’s backs. 

“Ladies, your assistance has been requested. If you’ll please follow me?” 

“What?” Eyes widening, you glance up at Taehyung, who smirks, prying your clutch from your grip and placing it on the table. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch your things. Just come this way, please.” 

Jisoo gives Taehyung a questioning look and he bows his head to whisper in her ear. She grins and rises. “Come on, babe!”

Taehyung offers you his hand and you take it, feeling confused. Neither you nor Jisoo had jumped up, trying to get the men on stage to pick you. As Taehyung pulls you to your feet, he dips his head to speak into your ear, to be heard over the yelling of the crowd. “I told you Jungkook was going to take care of you.” 

Oh, shit. This is what he meant? 

Well, all right. Why the fuck not? The first Adios Motherfucker has joined the soju spiraling through your system. At the moment, you feel pretty fucking good. Why not indulge in a lap dance?

Taehyung stops at the bottom of the stairs and helps you climb onto the stage until Namjoon steps forward, sliding your hand out of Taehyung’s and covering it with his own. “Hi, love,” he rumbles, leading you over to one of the chairs. “You ready to help me show this crowd a good time?”

“Absolutely!” 

He laughs at your effusive response, motioning for you to take a seat. Instead of helping Jisoo onto the other chair, Hoseok sits, then pats his lap. Jisoo doesn’t hesitate, looping an arm around his neck as she perches on his thighs. They both look over at where you and Namjoon are as the music begins to play. 

“Grind With Me” by Pretty Ricky thumps through the soundsystem as Namjoon drops to one knee. He’s still clutching your hand, lowering his plush lips to the back of it to gently kiss your knuckles. Then he glances up at you with a mischievous look, one of his dimples popping as he suddenly leans forward, burying his face in your lap. 

You hear Jisoo hooting gleefully above the rest of the crowd as you cover your mouth with your hands. Hesitantly, you reach out for him, but he slides away, rising off his knees. He dances around the chair, trailing his hands along your shoulders behind you, before he appears in front of you again. With another smirk, he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt, rolling the sleeves up as he dances, slowly exposing his forearms. LIke he’s about to get down to business. 

And then he straddles you, rolling his hips, and you realize with embarrassment that the loud “Oh shit!” you just heard came from your own mouth. Namjoon winks down at you, grabbing your hands and placing them on his thighs. They’re huge. Like tree trunks, except you’ve never felt a tree flex like that as Namjoon moves. Did Rosé get her hands on them last night? She’s going to completely combust when you tell her about this tomorrow. 

Namjoon body rolls himself backwards a few feet, reaching for the collar of his shirt. Rather than unbutton it, he simply tears it off, and both you and Jisoo shout as he tosses the ripped material into the crowd. He dances around you again, toying with the howling audience, throwing out flying kisses and winks, before he places both hands on the back of the chair. 

“Come on, love, on your feet.” Again, he takes your hands, urging you to stand. Then he sits, pulling you into his lap. You rest your shoulder against his broad chest, and the spotlight shifts to Jisoo and Hoseok. 

“By the way, thank you for setting me up with Rosé,” Namjoon murmurs into your ear as you watch Jisoo and Hoseok switch places, your friend settling herself comfortably on the other chair. 

You give Namjoon’s shoulder a friendly squeeze as you nod. You’re about to ask him if he had a good time on their date last night when Hoseok tears off his shirt, whipping it over his head and directly into the audience. He spins around, coming up behind Jisoo’s chair, and you scream with laughter at the surprised expression on her face when he grabs her arms from behind, tugging on her wrists and guiding her to raise them over her head. Then he presses her hands to his chest, sliding them down the rippling muscles of his torso. 

“Oh my god!” Jisoo shrieks as Hoseok whirls around the chair again, thighs astride hers. You’re dying, watching her reaction. Jisoo’s the queen of the poker face, but right now, there are a million micro-expressions flitting rapidly across her face as Hoseok takes her hands and puts them directly on his ass. He grinds himself into her lap, hips bucking as she grasps him through his skintight pants, and you know your other friends are going to be absolutely devastated that they’re missing this. 

You’ve honestly forgotten that you’re part of this routine too, just having a hell of a time laughing at your friend, when Namjoon gives you a gentle nudge. “Okay, love, let’s switch.” 

Once you’re back in the chair, Namjoon and Hoseok glide towards the center space. In unison, they launch into a series of sharp b-boy moves, popping, locking, and dipping down towards the floor. Your voice starts to crack as you cheer for them, catching Jisoo’s eye. She blows you a kiss, and you send one back, feeling nearly euphoric with joy. 

But the routine isn’t done. The two men high five as they return to your sides. Still in unison, they both dolphin kick, pushing themselves off the floor with devious grins. Then they slide on their knees over to each of you, grabbing the sides of the chairs and shimmying their way up your bodies. Namjoon takes your hand and runs it through his hair and down his chest, and Hoseok does the same over his shoulder with Jisoo. 

The look Namjoon gives you makes you giggle helplessly. It’s too hot, and you glance away, into the crowd - 

- to find a pair of dark eyes gazing at you fiercely. 

There’s a wild stutter in your chest as you realize that Jungkook is standing by your table, intently watching the performance. Is he done with the private party? Parties?

Namjoon suddenly places his hands on your thighs, lowering his head towards your lap again, and the shift draws your attention back to him. His hair tickles your bare legs and you shiver, giggling, looking back at Jungkook again, automatically seeking him out.  

You expect to find him laughing at you. Maybe flashing that sweet bunny smile, nose scrunching in pure bliss at your reactions to Namjoon’s movements. But the expression you spy on his face knocks the wind from you instead. Eyes narrowed under a furrowed brow, mouth drawn in a thin line, jaw firmly clenched.

What the hell?? Is he mad? Or wait. He couldn't possibly be… jealous? 

That makes no sense. As dumb as it was for you to get jealous earlier, it’s even stupider to think it’s also happening to him. After all, this was his idea! And even if it wasn’t, he knows this is all an act!

So why do you feel like his gaze is burning through you right now? 

And why do you like it?

Instinctively, your thighs twitch, and you attempt to close your legs, but Namjoon holds them apart. “Keep these open for me,” you hear him say before he rises to his feet again and takes a step to your left. Before you can react to his strange instruction, you gasp as he launches himself into a headstand, the top of his head coming to rest on the chair. 

Directly in between your legs.

There’s no more thinking about Jungkook, there’s only you screaming as Namjoon thrusts his crotch right into your face. How the fuck is he holding himself up like that? Just gripping the sides of the chair, veins in his forearms popping as his body undulates smoothly. The crowd around you has totally lost their minds, a hurricane of money flying into the air, fluttering in the lights illuminating the two men grinding upside-down over you and Jisoo. 

Both men hurtle themselves out of their headstands, deftly landing on their feet before they turn back. Then Namjoon straddles you again, body undulating in time with the heavy beat, and you find Jungkook in the crowd again. 

His expression hasn’t changed. Still so sharp. So intense. 

A wicked idea comes over you. Maybe it’s time the teaser becomes the teased. 

Slipping your hands around Namjoon’s waist, you urge him closer, tilting your head up to peer into his face, biting your lip as you do. He plays along, fingers pressing into yours, leading you to grab as much of his round ass as you can. “That’s it, love, help yourself,” he grins, making you toss your head back in unbridled laughter as he continues to wind. 

But you don’t get a chance to see if Jungkook saw your reaction before Namjoon lifts you out of your seat, large hands cupping your thighs as he carries you to the edge of the stage. At this point, the only words you can say are “Oh my god,” which might explain why you’re chanting them over and over. 

He lays you on your back, and you turn your head to see Jisoo lying next to you. She’s laughing hysterically as both men simulate fucking you, hips grinding into yours. Namjoon lifts your legs into the air, making your ass bounce with the power of his thrusts, and suddenly it’s Jungkook in your mind, the night of your date, when he’d danced for you. Tipping your head back, you look towards your table again, but from your upside-down point of view, Jungkook’s nowhere to be found. 

The music ends and the room erupts into chaos again, more cash pouring onto the stage as Namjoon helps you to your feet. He gives you a big hug, sweeping you into his strong embrace, and you hug him back, a little loopy from all the thrusting. Jisoo slips her arm through yours as you make your way back to your seats, where Taehyung is waiting with a knowing smile. 

“Enjoy yourself, kitten?” 

You don’t catch her response, scanning the crowd. Where did Jungkook go? There’s no sign of him anywhere. Did he run out of the room? After giving Jisoo and Taehyung a minute, you clear your throat.

“I thought I saw Jungkook a second ago. Was he out here?” 

“He came out for a minute to grab a few bottles of champagne for the next party,” Taehyung replies. Of course. He wasn’t done. He only had a second to watch before he had to get back. Totally explains why he didn’t wait. 

Makes more sense than him being so jealous, he couldn’t watch any more. 

But that look on his face….

“Water. I need water. Can you grab us a few glasses, Tae?” Jisoo flashes Taehyung a sweet smile and he nods, heading for the bar. She leans across the table and grabs your hand. “Okay, so, that happened.” 

Despite the disappointment you feel yet again that Jungkook’s not around, you can’t stop giggling about what you’ve just experienced. It hits you that this is probably the routine Jungkook told you about earlier, the one he was helping Hoseok and Namjoon to perfect. If it is, he did a fucking bang-up job. 

“Is my head supposed to spin after a lap dance? Because it is!” 

“That just means they did it right.” Jisoo’s not a giggler, but she collapses onto her arms on the table, and you feel another bout of delirious laughter bubbling up inside you. “Holy shit, I thought Hoseok was going to hump me right off the stage!”

“I know! Fuck. If Namjoon’s stroke game is anything like his dancing, Rosé’s in for the ride of her life!” 

“You’re definitely going to have to give Jungkook my thanks for that one,” Jisoo smirks. “Probably should thank him twice, actually, once for the both of us.” 

“I mean, I guess,” you sigh dramatically. “If I must.” 

The two of you cackle as Taehyung returns with two waters and two more cocktails. As you recover from your lap dance, downing more drinks, that euphoric feeling comes over you again. Thank god Jisoo dragged you out of your apartment tonight. You’re having the time of your life right now, swaying in your seat to the bass pounding through the club. 

Eventually all the drinks you imbibe have you in search of the ladies room. Stumbling down a dimly-lit hallway, you realize you must’ve made a wrong turn somewhere, because you can’t find any doors. It’s nothing but purple velvet curtains lining the walls around you. 

More than a little drunk, you trip over your own two feet and grab at the drapery to stop yourself from falling. The heavy material slides aside and reveals a door behind it. It takes you a few seconds to realize that you’re looking at one of the club’s private rooms. They must all be hidden behind these curtains. You’re definitely not in the right hallway. 

Jungkook's behind one of these doors right now. Part of you wants to open them all up, poke your head in each one until you find him. Maybe it’s a big party he’s entertaining. Maybe no one would notice if you slipped in. 

Oh, but you don’t want to sit in a room full of people and watch him dance. You want him to dance for you. Just you, and no one else. A private performance. 

Well, you’re here. Why not ask for one? You just gotta find him first. Wait, what were you looking for again? Maybe that third drink was a mistake. Fourth drink? Shit. You need to pee. Better find the bathroom. 

Turning to retrace your steps, you run into a wall. No, not a wall. A man. 

“Jungkook!” you yelp, wobbling on your heels. Before you can tip ass over teakettle, he grabs you by the waist, pushing you up against one of the curtains, the velvet softly nuzzling your legs as his arms come to rest on either side of your head. You let your hands curl into the silk of his leopard-print top, helping to steady yourself.

“What are you doing back here, jagi?” 

You hear his question clearly, but it takes you a minute to answer because you’re too busy admiring him. God, he’s so beautiful. The ends of his hair are damp, hanging in his face as he towers over you. There’s a bit of kohl liner smeared around his eyes, giving him a smoky look that takes him from gorgeous to out-of-this-world. And then there’s your little friend, that cute lil mole, decorating his pretty pink lips. 

“Trying to find the bathroom,” you finally respond, giggling. “I think I’m lost.” 

He merely nods, dark eyes wandering over your figure. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here tonight?” His left hand drops to your leg, rubbing the hem of your skirt between his long fingers.

“Didn’t know. Ji-Jisoo brought me here as a surprise.” You hiccup slightly, extending a finger to tap lightly on the lil mole. 

“Oh. So you didn’t dress up for me, then?” There’s a hint of a sullen tone to his voice that makes your chest ache. You wish you had. You want to dress up for him. Just for him and him alone.

A shiver rolls through you as his fingers leave your skirt, skimming up the bare skin beneath. It’s either the Adios Motherfuckers ganging up on you or it's his touch that makes you blurt out, “Is your party over yet?” The chain of his body harness dangles over his chest, and you reach out, lightly grasping the metal links, winding them around your fingers. “I want a dance.” 

“Oh yeah?” The silver piercings over his eye shift as he arches his brow. “You didn’t get enough on stage? Seemed to me like Namjoon-hyung was giving you more than you can handle. Although you were sure trying.” 

More than you could handle? He has no idea how much you can handle. 

“Is that so?” 

Shit. You must’ve said that out loud.

“Yes. You did.” Jungkook chuckles as you stare at him, wide-eyed. “How drunk are you, jagi?” 

“Dunno. A little.” Tugging on the body chain, you grin as Jungkook is drawn closer to you. The scent of his cologne curls around you, like an ocean breeze. The look on his face reminds you of his expression during your lap dance, and you sigh as you peer at him through lowered lashes. “You wanna know what I think?”  

“What’s that?” His hand resumes its path, traveling around the outside of your thigh.

“I think you’re jealous.” 

The hand stops. Jungkook exhales a laugh through his nose. “Jealous? Of what?”

“Of the lap dance. Of the way Joon was dancing on me. With me. To me?” What’s the right way to say that? 

Actually, should you be saying any of this right now? It feels like you’re talking a lot. 

“Joon?” The hand that was on your thigh is now gripping your hip. If anyone walked by and saw him with his hand this far up your dress, it probably wouldn’t be good for him. But he doesn’t seem concerned, so you figure you shouldn’t be either and say nothing. 

“Namjoon. Whatever.” Flapping your free hand in the air, you go on. “Irregardless. The point is, you’re jealous. And it’s stupid.” 

Even though you’re the one sloshingly full of alcohol right now, it seems like he’s the one struggling to keep up, based on the way he keeps repeating your words. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Yes, it’s stupid! Like me. Like, I was stupid earlier, because I was jealous! I couldn’t stop thinking about you being back here, dancing and smiling and flirting and - and I didn’t like it.” Pouting, you drop your gaze to the body chain again, watching the light reflect off the links as you twist them around. “And then I realized it’s stupid because it’s your job and it doesn’t mean anything. And it’s the same with Namjoon. He was just doing what he does. It didn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter if he dances for me, or if Hoseok does, or Taehyung. None of it matters. Because at the end of the day, the only one I want is you, Kookie.”

Wow, that was a lot. The words just sorta wouldn’t stop, just pouring out of you without any thought. Like they’ve been floating around in there for a while now, waiting to be said. 

Maybe you’ve said too much, given how silent Jungkook is in the wake of your babbling. Not that you really notice. You’re hypnotized by the movement of his chest underneath your fingers. His breathing seems to have sped up a little at your speech. Rise, fall. Rise, fall. 

“Jagiya.” His voice is husky when he finally speaks. “Just me?” 

You nod, mesmerized by the way the harness glitters as you twirl it. “Just you.” 

He’s quiet again for a moment before he sighs. “I wish I could dance for you tonight. But I’m not free yet. There’s another party coming in.” 

“Fuck. You’re super popular, huh? You stay booked.” Humming, you tug on the chain again. “So when do the parties end?” 

“Late.” Gently, he covers your hand with his own, untangling your fingers from his harness. Your lip puffs out further, a wordless whimper sounding from your chest. You don’t want to let go, you want to pull him into one of these rooms and ride him like - like - 

“Like what?” Jungkook smirks, fingers slipping under your chin to raise your head. “Ride me like what?” 

“Wow, okay, I think I might be more than a little drunk,” you confess, staring into his eyes again. In the low lighting of the hallway, they seem to sparkle. 

“Yes, you are.” He traces your cheek with a tatted knuckle, and you nuzzle into his touch, leaning forward with pursed lips, but instead of kissing you, he tucks your arm into his and guides you off the wall. “Come on, jagi. Let’s get you back to Jisoo.” 

“Noooo, Kookie, I want a dance!” But the haze of lust is burning off, replaced by the nagging pressure of your bladder, and you let Jungkook lead you back to your table, where your friend cracks up before rising to her feet. 

“Oh, babe, you’re a mess. Let’s find the bathroom together. Thank you, Jungkook, I’ve got her from here.” 

Jungkook nods. His hand rests on the small of your back for a minute before it falls away. “Make sure you drink some more water, okay, jagi?” he murmurs to you. Then he nods at Jisoo again. “Enjoy the rest of your night, ladies.” 

And then Jisoo is dragging you away, but when you glance back, you find him still standing there, surrounded by cheering patrons and flashing lights, eyes focused only on you.

You can’t sleep. 

It’s been an hour since you and Jisoo left Paradise. After Jungkook escorted you away from the private rooms, Jisoo decided you’d had enough fun for one evening. She made you drink a glass of water, brought you home, made you drink another glass, then tucked you into bed. You’d offered her your couch for the night, to save her the trek home, but she’d waved you off. 

“No need, I have a key to Min’s place.” And with one final exasperated “Stop giving me that look!” she left.

And now you can’t sleep. 

It doesn’t help that every time you close your eyes, you picture Jungkook’s intense stare. The end of the night is a bit of a blur. You remember running into him in the hallway, remember him having his hands on you, remember wanting to jump him then and there, but everything else about your encounter has washed away with the alcohol. But that look on his face from when he watched your lap dance burns just as brightly in your memory now as it did at the club. 

It’s keeping you awake. It makes no sense. Between the long day and all the drinking, you should be exhausted. Not fired up. Ready to ignite. 

Why can’t you get that look out of your head? It’s the smirk all over again.

Goddamn it, go to sleep.

…

Well, yelling at yourself isn’t working, so you kick off your sheets with an angry grunt and shuffle towards your living room, yanking Jungkook’s hoodie over your thin satin camisole and shorts as you go. You don’t bother to turn on any lights. Maybe scrolling endlessly through your streaming queue for a while will lull you into slumber. It works most nights. 

Naturally, it’s not working now.

Tonight, no matter how long you flip aimlessly through the options, there’s no tricking yourself into sleep. Eventually, you pick something old to watch, an romcom so treasured that you can recite the lines along with the actors. It’s so easy to lose yourself in a silly story like this, one where it’s completely inevitable that the leads are going to get together but you fall into it anyway. 

As the credits roll, you pick up your phone. Put it down. Pick it up. Unlock it. Lock it. Put it down. 

Inhaling deeply, you breathe in the scent of the ocean. A trace of Jungkook’s cologne lingers in the hoodie. 

You pick up your phone, unlock it, open your texts, and fire off five words.

(2:14): Are you still at work?

A quiet creeps over the room again, a stillness matched by the static image of the movie on the screen, asking if you want to watch again or return to your queue. But despite the calm hush, you’re on edge, fingers tapping, pulse racing while you wait for a reply. 

Will he respond? Maybe he already left. He’s probably hungry, might have gone to grab some food. Maybe he’s hanging out with the other dancers.

Maybe he left with someone el-

Bzzt! Bzzt!

Kookie 🦌 (2:16): shift’s over. having a drink with hoseok

Kookie 🦌 (2:16): you’re still up?

(2:17): Yeah

(2:17): Can’t sleep

Kookie 🦌 (2:18): need some help?

Kookie 🦌 (2:18): been waiting to play with that app again

No. No toys tonight. You want him. 

(2:18): Kookie

(2:19): Come over

His reply is immediate.

Kookie 🦌 (2:19): on my way jagi

As if he were currently just down the hall and not all the way across town, you jump up off the couch, running into the bathroom, pleased to find that you don’t look like a total wreck after the evening you’ve had. You brush your teeth again, then dash into your bedroom, rummaging through the bedside table until you find the box of condoms stashed in there, making sure they’re close at hand.

Halfway down the hall, you turn around, go back to the box, and stuff one in the pocket of your shorts. Just in case.

You know it’ll take him some time to get here. But you’re too keyed up to wait on the couch. So you pace instead. There’s a clap of thunder in the distance. As you roam your apartment restlessly, it starts to pour, heavy drops rapping loudly against the window in the kitchen. Tiny rivulets of water run together, forming large streams that snake their way down the glass while you watch, trying hopelessly to distract yourself again. 

It doesn’t work, and when the knock comes, you’re already waiting by the door.

Even without the flash of lightning that lights your apartment, there’s a charge in the air as you and Jungkook stare at each other. His dark hair is damp, ends clinging to his face, and his clothes drip on the hallway floor. He must’ve gotten caught in the storm on his way out of Paradise. Maybe he rode his bike in the rain again. You hope he was careful, but you get the feeling he rushed over here as quickly as he could. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, voice rumbly and deep.

‘Hi,” you reply softly, fiddling with the knob as you lean against the door, suddenly incredibly conscious of your hands, not knowing what to do with them. You want to bury them in his hair, but you’re frozen under his gaze, waiting to see what he’s going to do. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, eyebrow lifting in curiosity. “Are you still drunk?” 

You shake your head. Stone cold sober now. Nothing but anticipation flowing through your veins, though you find that’s almost as heady as alcohol. “No.”

“Good,” he sighs, sounding relieved, and then he’s on you.

One of his hands slides around your back while the other cups your chin, and then his mouth finds yours, hungry and desperate. He nibbles at your bottom lip, teeth sinking into the plump flesh, then sucks it, tongue brushing away the sting. Keening, you hold him as closely as you can, hands wandering over the broad planes of his chest, clutching at the soaking material that covers him. He’s so warm. Or maybe that’s you, aflame for him. 

“Jagi,” he hums, leaving a trail of kisses along your cheek, “Can I come in?”

“God, yes, come in.” Curling your fingers into his hoodie, you walk backwards, pulling him into your apartment. His greedy mouth follows quickly, whining impatiently until he’s across the threshold and the door is shut behind him and then he’s on you again, kissing you fast and hot and breathless.

You keep shuffling backwards, leading him down the hallway to your bedroom, but it’s slow going, because you don’t for one second want to part from his mouth. Jungkook clearly feels the same sense of frustration you do, because his hands slip beneath your thighs to hoist you into the air. Gasping, you lock your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his shoulders to hold on tight as he suddenly turns, pressing your back into the wall. 

“Do you feel that?” He rolls his hips up into your spread legs, and you moan, feeling him rubbing against you. He’s rock hard. “Been like this ever since you texted.”

His mouth latches onto your neck as he ruts against you again. With you pinned to the wall by his torso and hips, his hands are free to roam, and they paw at your sweatshirt, searching for the soft skin underneath.

“Too many clothes,” he mutters, and then he’s tugging his sweatshirt off of you, dragging your tank top with it. He tosses the offending items to the floor. The vent overhead blows cold air across your skin, making your nipples pebble as Jungkook’s hot hands grope your bare breasts. 

“You too,” you pout, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie and trying in vain to peel it off of him, but he refuses to let go of your chest long enough to raise his arms. “Jungkook! Take it off!” 

He just grunts into your collarbones as he kisses his way across. Undaunted, you keep tugging  until he mutters, “Aish, okay!” and reaches behind his head to pull the sweatshirt off in one swift motion. He barely jostles you, keeping you pressed to the wall with ease, and you marvel at his skills. Probably more tricks learned at Paradise.

Warm metal brushes against your chest. Fuck. He’s still wearing the body chain.

“Better?” he huffs. You nod, running your hands over his soft skin. Your fingertips brush over one of his nipples, and he whines, a high-pitched noise that makes you clench involuntarily. God, you want him so bad.

He grinds into you again, swallowing your gasp with his kiss. His tattooed hand grips your knee, slips up your thigh, and under your shorts, fingers not stopping until they find exactly what they’re looking for.

“Jagi,” he hisses, dropping his head to your shoulder. “So wet. Always so wet for me.”

“Always,” you moan as your lips brush over his ear. He shudders, sliding his finger along your slit. Applying just the right amount of pressure to make you buck slightly, urging him inside. “Please, Kookie.” 

He groans, pushing one long finger into your folds.  “You drove me fucking crazy tonight. Sending me that photo. Wandering around Paradise in that little dress. Just wanted to pull you into one of those rooms.” His finger strokes your tight inner walls. “Touch you. Taste you. Let you ride me like you said you wanted.” 

A second finger enters, joins the first in rubbing away. Meanwhile, his thumb circles around your clit before flicking over the sensitive nub. Your head kicks back against the wall as a jolt shoots through you. Struck by lightning. His husky laugh is the peal of thunder in its wake.  

“Next time, jagi,” he continues, “next time, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Take you in a room and make you fall apart.”

His fingers start to pump, and oh, he feels like heaven, fucking you open with a fervid urgency. Like he’s just as impatient as you are, just as eager to bury himself inside you as soon as he can. As soon as you’re ready for him.

“J-Jungkook,” you stutter, nails digging into his arms as you cling blindly to him. “More. Please.” 

“You want more?” He licks his lips, tongue pulling the kiss-swollen bottom between his teeth as he adds a third finger. “I’ll give you everything. Whatever you want.”

The two of you are panting, filling the air with hot exhalations and grunts, mixing with the lewd squelching between your legs to create an obscene cacophony. As talented as his hand is, it’s not enough, just has you losing your mind with desire for more of him. For all of him. 

Your words come out a broken mewl. “Want you, Kookie, just you. Please!”

“Ah, jagi, don’t say shit like that unless you want me to fuck you right here, just like this,” he groans, eyes closing. 

“Kookie.” Groaning his name, you grasp his chin to tilt his head until your gazes meet. “In my-my right pocket.” 

He glances at you questioningly, but as his left hand slips into the silky material, his expression shifts, eyebrow rising as he hums. He pulls out the condom and his right hand withdraws. Your feet hit the ground. “Shit, that’s what you want, huh? Right here? Now?” 

“Fuck yes, please!”

In an instant, his joggers are around his ankles, your shorts are on the floor, and the empty condom packet flutters to the ground. You watch as he sheathes himself, hurriedly rolling the thin rubber over his already leaking cock. He grabs your thighs, picking you up again, pushing you up the wall until you can feel his tip rubbing through your dripping folds. 

His hand reaches between you and grabs yours, guiding you to grab the silver links that dangle down his chest. Immediately, you loop the body chain around your fingers.

“Hold on, jagi,” he murmurs as his face hovers close to yours. His lips quirk into that familiar smirk. You bite your lip, waiting. 

And then he slides into you, burying himself to the hilt. 

“Fuck.” Your shaky moan elongates the word, turning it into an entire sentence. An entire song. Jungkook slowly draws back and then thrusts in again, prompting another moan. Another melody. He does it again, and again, building up to a steady pace, making you bounce. “Oh, fuck, Jungkook!”

“That’s it, jagi. I wanna hear you.” His hands squeeze your thighs, kneading the flesh as he pins you to the wall with his pistoning hips. “Those moans sound so much better without that fucking wall in the way.” 

“Hnnngh,” comes your response. Your free hand roams over his shoulders to lock into the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “Fuck!”

White-hot pleasure roils in your gut. That fierce look is back on Jungkook’s face, sweat starting to drip from his brow. His stamina is insane. The fact that he’s holding you up like this while pounding into you like a wild beast rutting away… well, it would blow your mind, but his powerful strokes are already doing that. 

“You feel so good, baby, shit,” he growls through gritted teeth, dark eyes staring at where he disappears into your welcoming heat over and over. “Such a tight little pussy. Wanna fill it up. Leave you dripping with me.” 

“God, fuck, Kookie, your mouth.” Dirty talk drives you crazy, and this man does it so well. Of course he does. He lives to tease you, to wind you up in every way he can. “So filthy.” 

The sound of him fucking into you is just as filthy, between the wet slap of his thighs hitting your ass, and the needy exclamations dropping from your lips. These only increase as he tilts his hips just right, curved cock hitting your g-spot. 

“Jungkook!” you gasp, feet flexing, legs starting to tense around him. Reading your reaction, he does it again, and shit, you might actually come just from his cock. 

“Can’t help it.” His sweat drips onto your chest, rolling down the valley between your breasts. His right hand comes up to wipe it away before he rubs his thumb over your lips. “Need to tell you how you make me feel. Tell you how fuckin’ good you’re taking me.” 

He presses the tip of his finger into your parted mouth, and you obediently suck him in. He groans lowly as your tongue swirls around his thumb a few times before he pulls it back out. It disappears between you, to land on your throbbing clit.

”What about you, jagi? How ’m I making you feel?” He thrusts hard, bouncing you further up the wall, and your eyes roll back in your head. Light reflects off the gleaming body chain with every rebound. You haven’t let go for a second. “You like this? Me holding you like this, making you just fucking take it?”

“Fuck, yes, Kookie, so good!” The fervor with which he fondles your clit is nothing short of relentless. You’re burning up, ready to burst into flames. “Ah, ah, give it to me!” 

No one’s ever fucked you like this before. His movements are so raw, so primal. That feeling from earlier is back - the sense of urgency. Of need. And you feel it too, this untamed desire, surging through your veins, setting every inch of you on fire. All you can do is hold on to him, fingers gripping sweat-soaked skin and metal, lips seeking his again and again. You’re pinned to the wall, completely at his mercy, and all you want is more. 

“Come on, jagiya, I wanna feel you,” he wheedles, whining sweetly. “Come on this cock for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy likes this.” 

His chin tilts up, mouth capturing yours in a sloppy kiss, all tongue. Saliva coats your lips, spills down your chin. Between the sweat, the spit, and your arousal, you’re a sopping mess. You don’t give a single goddamn. All you care about is him. 

“Ahh!” With a wordless wail, your climax arrives. Cunt clamping as your clit twitches, pleasure racing through your body with every beat of your madly thumping heart. Jungkook snarls as your walls grip him tighter, but he doesn’t stop, still pumping away as you ride out your release.

“Jungkook,” you gasp when your lungs finally refill with air. “Come on, fill me up, Kookie. I want it.” 

He whines, kissing you frantically. When his tongue traces the inside of your mouth, you massage it with yours before sucking so hard your cheeks hollow. His body tenses, and with one, two, three hard pumps, he spills into the condom, cock twitching as he breaks the kiss to moan your name. 

Heavy breathing fills the hallway as his hips finally still. He drops his forehead against yours as yours for a few seconds, and then he relaxes his hold on your thigh, helping you ease your legs down until you’re standing on your own. Well, your feet are technically on the floor, at least, but the wall is doing all the work as you lean against it, knees a bit wobbly. 

You already miss the feeling of him inside you.

Jungkook seems to be catching his breath already, and you marvel again at his endurance. If that vigorous fucking didn’t exhaust him, then what exactly would it take to tire him out? 

That’s a thought for another night, when your legs don’t feel like they’re about to collapse.

“Jesus fuck,” you declare loudly.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Is that a happy curse, or…”

“Yes. It’s happy. I’m happy.” You beam at him, wiping sweat from your forehead, your cheeks, your stomach. “I’m a fucking mess, Jungkook, look at me!” 

He steps forward, arms wrapping around your back. “I am looking, jagiya.” This time when he kisses you, it’s a slow, lingering caress. “You’re gorgeous, all fucked-out like this. Makes me wanna wreck you again.” 

“Mmmm,” you hum, leaning back. “I don’t know if I could handle that.”

“Oh?” Goddamn, will you ever get over that sexy smirk? “That’s not what you said earlier. You made it sound like you could handle anything I could give you.” 

“Well, that was then. I’ve never been manhandled like that before!”

“Manhandled?” Oh no. Oh, you don’t like the look he’s giving you now. Like you’ve just challenged him. “You want manhandled?”

Your neighbors are definitely awake now, based on the volume of your shriek as Jungkook bends and slings you over his shoulder. You instinctively flail your arms, seeking something, anything to hold on to, but it doesn’t matter. He’s got a firm grip on your legs, keeping you locked in place. So that’s how he carries you to your bedroom, upside-down, ass pointing at the ceiling. He delivers a sharp slap on one of your cheeks, just enough of a sting to surprise you, and you screech before starting to giggle.

He tosses you lightly onto the bed before he disappears into the bathroom, returning without the spent condom. You giggle again as he crawls over you, kissing his way up your stomach and over your breasts. Cupping his face, you urge him closer, pressing your mouths together in a slow burn of a kiss, a kindling flame that grows hotter and hotter until you’re both panting, desperately pawing at one another. 

He’s ready to go again and so are you, and you tear yourself away from his hungry lips long enough to reach into your nightstand and find what you need. Once he’s sheathed, he’s inside you again. But now his thrusts aren’t frenzied or hasty. Now, he strokes into you slowly, taking his time, groaning brokenly as your tight walls hug his aching length. His fingers lace with yours, pinning your hands to the bed above your head as he fucks you like he has all the time in the world, and he’s going to use every single second to give you all the pleasure he can. 

You arch your back, meeting his movements with your hips, taking him as deep as possible. Trying to make this good for him, trying to deliver just as much satisfaction with every tilt, every clench. Without your hands, you can’t pull his face to yours, and you have a delirious need to kiss him, taste him, claim his mouth with yours. You whimper, tipping your chin up, and somehow he understands your pitiful whines and slots his lips against yours.

This time, your orgasm doesn’t smash into you. This time, it builds, until it overwhelms you, takes over, wipes your mind clear of all thoughts, all sensations, everything except for him. Your body hums like a guitar string, stretched so tight, strummed by his beautiful hands, ringing out one single note. 

“Jungkook!”

He kisses you as his hips stutter, cock spurting hot and white inside you. He doesn’t pull away when his high finally passes, but lies on top of you, head nuzzling into your shoulder. Your hand finds the nape of his neck again, twists the sweaty strands of his hair. It’s a comforting weight, his strong body covering yours. You can’t explain it, but you like it. 

Which is why you pout when he finally props himself up on an elbow to gaze down at you, a soft smile on his face.

His bright eyes will be the death of you. 

“Are you in need of more manhandling?” he asks. 

You laugh, a full, body-shaking belly laugh that jostles him and makes him grin even more brightly. “I think I’m good right now, thank you.” 

He rolls onto his side, slinging an arm over your hip as you turn to face him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

The rain taps a soothing rhythm on your bedroom window as you consider everything running through your mind at the moment. Should you call it a night and get some sleep? Does he want to take a shower first? Maybe together? Do you think you could go for a third round?

But instead of answering him with any of these, what you say is,  

“Are you free next Saturday?”

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© 2022 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

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How cute is this story?!? Absolutely love this. I love a good enemies to lovers, especially when it so readily makes sense that they went from point A to point B. It’s hard to do in a shorter fic and not chapter after chapter of it, but this story did that very well. The side characters were adorable and the party was so perfect with them crushing on each other and not even knowing it yet. Super fun!

The Dimple Theory | KNJ

The Dimple Theory -> Seven With You (follow-up fic)

Summary: You’re in your final year at university. You almost have your dream graduate job. If only your arch nemesis, Kim Namjoon, wasn’t applying for the same job at the same firm…

Pairing: Namjoon x Female!reader (with a healthy drizzle of ot7 throughout)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Genre: University!AU, e2f2l, drama, romcom (ish?), final year student!Joon, final year student!reader, completed oneshot

Word count: 14k 

Warnings: (lots and lots of) swearing, mentions of financial struggles, strained (step)parent-child relationships, mentions of parental death, tae tries it with oc but joon was having none of it (so, jealousy, I guess?), someone gets mugged, knives, blood (it’s not much), brief talk around sexual violence against women, softest ever!Joon, tad bit of angst, eventual smut, fluffiest fluff

A/N: I just wanted it to be a simple ass story with 6-8k words lmao. Huge disclaimer: this is NOT an accurate depiction of university life, Set Theory or Economics or graduate jobs or anything tbh. Please remember this is all a work of fiction and in no way represents any of the persons mentioned in the story. With that in mind, ENJOY! (More A/N at the end of the fic)

——————————————————————————

“The answer is B. If X is a subset of Y, then X is equal to Y if and only if Y is a subset of X.”

Keep reading

This was flipping adorable!! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 such a cute concept and these two are so cute together. The contrast in their characters is perfectly poetic and their equally doe eyed affection for each other is sweet. I loved every second of it. 🥰

Helping Hands || Min Yoongi

Pairing: Caretaker! Yoongi x Kindergarten teacher! Reader

Genre: Fluff || Smut || Strangers to lovers || Non-idol AU

Summary: Yoongi always had a knack for fixing things, and with producing getting him nowhere, he ends up working for the school his long-time friend Seokjin, teaches at. With his new job, he meets you, and although your first encounter hadn’t been the best; at least not in Yoongi’s eyes, he could have never guessed how your relationship would bloom. And Yoongi gets to show you his hands can do more than fix your faulty heating.

Word Count: 13.3k

Tags/ Warnings: fluffy, smut in the forms of: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, protected sex (because that’s cool), they hold hands while they fuck, boobie play, squirting, boyfriends taekook, namjoon is a bit of an ick.

Notes: this idea was derived from a tiktok, but the original creator has deleted the video :’( but the idea of someone having a crush on you and helping fix up your classroom was too endearing to pass! when i thought about writing this i didn’t think it would be very long, and i thought how on earth am i meant to write a decent story from this vague-ish concept but here we are 13k words of two people falling in love. considering i’ve never had a s/o i don’t think i did too bad… but maybe this is just what i want from someone i like even if the idea of becoming a teacher makes me want to hurl. if there's mistakes, no there isn't.

edit: the tiktok that inspired this fic! thank you @devilonmyshouder for finding it! my savior 🥲

<3 <3 <3

“Have you asked for her number yet?”

“What?” Yoongi releases a long sigh, head turning so his eyes can meet Seokjin’s, who had a sly smile pasted on his annoyingly handsome face. And it’s at times like these where Yoongi wonders why he still puts up with Jin’s bullshit.

“The kindergarten teacher you’ve been staring at since we sat down” Jin points out, watching you as you laugh with a few of your co-workers on the other side of the cafeteria; in perfect eyeshot from where Yoongi sits.

“No? Why would I do that?” said man asks, stabbing a piece of meat with more force than it deserved. Yoongi has to will himself to not let his eyes wander back in your direction; like hell would he give Seokjin what he wanted. Yoongi doubted he had enough patience stored up to deal with the impending teasing that his long-time friend would surely thrust upon him if he were to prove his point correct. Plus, he was nothing more than being a little intrigued by you.

“Because you clearly like her” Jin tuts.

“Do not”

“Do too. You can’t deny your little crush. I’ve seen the way you look at her” Jin exasperates, flinging his arms above his head dramatically, catching the attention of a few other teaching staff scattered across the growingly scarce cafeteria.

Yoongi cringes, eyes squinting in distaste at his friend’s flamboyant antics that seemed to always garner the eyes of everyone around him. But Yoongi supposes with Jin’s face, it shouldn’t come as a surprise the attention always seemed to be on him, even if he was acting somewhat civilised. Yoongi had never thought of Jin as more than a friend, even if he did swing both ways; but, he could see why Jin’s face had such an appeal, even Aphrodite would have a run for her money if Jin were to rock up in those times, stealing the attention all for himself with his aggravatingly perfect face.

“It’s not a crush. This isn’t high school Hyung” Yoongi grunts, shoving his lunchbox back into his bag. Uncaring as he squashes a banana, already a little too overripe for his liking anyways.

You’d have to pay him millions before he dared touch the cafeteria food, in no way, shape or form would he risk growing a third arm from the slop they served. It’s offensive they had the gall to call it food, let alone serve it to the poor children. And he swears he saw one of the chefs spit in the pasta once, he doesn’t care if it adds flavour.

Now, Yoongi didn’t like children. Not in the slightest.

Thought they were disgusting, foul little creatures that had no sense of personal hygiene or self-awareness. With their sticky hands and voices that carried across miles, everything about children made Yoongi recoil.

And that may leave you wondering why on earth is Yoongi working in a school?

Money. That’s the simple answer.

Yoongi had a knack for fixing things, he’s good with his hands (interpret that how you will). And he really needed the money. His little ‘side hustle’ of producing only made him so much money, and as inflation increased, so did Yoongi’s bills, and slowly he had started finding it a little harder to pay bills and food for not only him but Holly; his cute little dog that he refused to believe wasn’t a puppy any longer. Jin had argued that Yoongi spoiled his dog, buying premium food and overpriced treats, but Holly only deserved the best.

Therefore, the job had to change and not his dog’s nutrition.

So, when the same Seokjin who complained about his pampered pup, had told him about the open position in the school he worked at, Yoongi was sceptical to say the least. He’d dropped out of college after a semester, taking on shoddy part-time jobs to pay for his producing equipment and clearly that had only brought him so far. So he couldn’t see any good reason to waltz back into a school.

Not only that, the thought of having to share space with tiny terrors for hours a day, 5 out of 7 days a week, the offer didn’t seem all that worth it. Until he saw the salary.

Not only was he now making 10 times more than he had been, basically teachers wages (still not enough but better than nothing), he got his own little office in the far end of campus, so he wouldn’t have to interact with any sticky babies and loud-mouthed teens unless absolutely necessary.

With his shiny new office, secluded from the crowd of teachers that gathered at lunch, Yoongi had zero intentions of sitting in the crusty cafeteria; even if his Jin Hyung had begged him for the first two weeks of his new job, to come and sit with him and his other teacher friends. He’d never enjoyed everyone gathering in one place to eat, crowds of people sounding more like squawking birds than hushed chatter that always ended up in arguments.

That was until Yoongi had met you. And suddenly the cafeteria seemed like the only place he wanted to be.

Pretty you who looked like a goddess among humans. Even with the splodges of paint staining your dress, and snotty babies clinging to you like nothing Yoongi had ever seen.

Yoongi had only been working at the school for a month, the start of the school year rolling by quicker than he had initially anticipated. And before he knew it, two weeks had passed by; and that second week on the jobs was when he had first ‘met’ you.

‘Met’ was generous. It was more a brief encounter where Yoongi couldn’t get the words off his tongue quick enough and had been left dumbstruck. Worried he had scared you off with how rude he must have been. You’d strutted out of your classroom, a model among the little children waddling behind you like little ducklings would their mother, hot on your tail as you led them to the bathrooms.

Yoongi had been fixing one of the fan units in the hallway, and you’d politely smiled up at him, making sure none of the children would knock the ladder Yoongi had been stood on, worried their little bodies would bulldoze into the wonky frame and Yoongi would be sent flying. And although that would make a memorable first impression, Yoongi didn’t want to be rushed to hospital with a concussion and his pride bruised.

‘Good morning’

Two simple words and Yoongi felt as if his heart would implode; he felt silly, coughing, and then only managing a curt nod as a reply, words sticky on his tongue like taffy. Clogging his throat as he holds his breath momentarily.

You see, Yoongi was prone to worrying, anxiety always laying under his skin like an itch that he could never get rid of, irritating but part of his life whether he liked it or not. And that night he’d laid awake, worried he hadn’t made a good first impression, scaring you away when he hadn’t even gotten the chance to learn your name.

And sure, he could have asked Jin, but that man had enough blackmail material already; he didn’t need to know about Yoongi’s budding interest in the pretty kindergarten teacher. If he hadn’t embarrassed himself enough then Seokjin surely would.

To Yoongi’s surprise you hadn’t seemed too offended by his reply, or lack thereof, as a week later you’d greeted him during lunch; even going as far to hold the door open for him as he languidly wandered into the cafeteria, in search of Seokjin.

This time Yoongi felt a little more prepared, muttering a short ‘thanks’, small smile stretching onto his lips as he points it in your direction. He doesn’t wait for your reply, legs already pulling him out of what could be another embarrassing encounter, a little disheartened that the day he finally decided to eat with the rest of the staff (secretly hoping to see you), your encounter had been so brief.

Yoongi’s easy smile however, remained throughout the course of lunch, heart fluttering like little butterfly wings locked in the cage of his chest; and if Seokjin noticed his friend’s flushed cheeks he chose not to say anything.

The caretaker thought he was sly with his little crush, never mentioning you to Jin, only stealing short glimpses of you from across the cafeteria, that short half an hour a day enough to recharge his motivation to continue this job. And he has the gall to be surprised when Seokjin finally decides to bring it up.

“Might want to hurry up, Jungkookie might beat you to it” Jin calls out, and if Yoongi hadn’t seen a few kids running around the area, he would have flipped off the elder. But Yoongi does nothing more than wave him off, and he may have been worried if he didn’t know Jungkook was already seeing someone.

That someone being Kim Taehyung, the high school art teacher, who occasionally sat at their table at lunch. Most of his time hauled up in the art rooms where students were welcome to work during the lunch hour.

Yoongi wasn’t one to stereotype but Kim Taehyung was the very definition of eccentric art teacher. Style a little unusual, paintings so abstract Yoongi felt like he was on acid while trying to decipher the meaning.

He had seen how Jungkook looked at Taehyung, the little galaxies that shone in his eyes when he looked at his love, where each star represented one thing that Jungkook adored about his boyfriend, his gentle gaze enough to show the absolute adoration they held for one another.

Yoongi had complained, telling them to get a room on more than one occasion when they’d decided to lick into each other’s mouths during afterschool dinners. But truly he was happy they had something so precious, a love like a warm hug, infinite trust between the two of them; something that Yoongi secretly yearned for.

More often than not Yoongi felt a little misunderstood. He never meant to come off as cold or disinterested, he liked the silent company of a person as much as he enjoyed his time alone, you didn’t have to always be talking; silent comfort of another person enough for him.

Yoongi didn’t want to come off as rude, he just didn’t know what to say sometimes, happier to prove his love with acts of service than empty words that even he doesn’t know the meaning of. He doesn’t want to come off as unapproachable, but when you’re tired from work and lacking the energy to act like a ray of sunshine, much like the physical education teacher, Hoseok, Yoongi could only wallow in his own self-pity some nights. Wondering why only a select few seemed to enjoy his company, or why so many romantic relationships have been washed down the drain.

As the first semester of school progressed, the weather had started to get colder, autumn slinking by before anyone could comprehend the unusually warm summer.

Kids starting to layer uniform, and teachers turning to the heaters to defrost their fingers as they arrive early, grass still dewy with air that nips at your skin like little needles.

Yoongi jolts up from his seat at the gentle knock of his office door, his feet flying off the desk from where he’d been resting them; worried that it was his boss coming for his usual weekly check-up.

However, Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find you stood in his doorway; soft-looking sweater cocooning you in its warmth, nose tinted red from the frosty morning air, tips of your fingers barely peeking out from where you try to warm them up from the confines of your sleeves. And it takes all Yoongi’s will, not to tell you he had more ways than one he would love to heat you up (though he supposes he should take you out on a date before that).

Yoongi thinks you must have been sent from the sky, pretty, even in the dim morning sunlight, kissing your skin like Yoongi would if you would let him.

“Good morning” you smile, nose twitching at the strong scent of coffee that permeates the air of Yoongi’s office.

“Morning. Can I help you?” Yoongi asks, leg bouncing up and down anxiously. He has no time to curse himself for how blunt he must have come off, tone anything but inviting, before you’re opening your mouth to answer him.

“Yes actually. The heater in my classroom isn’t working”

Yoongi nods, pushing himself from his seat, ignoring the piping hot coffee he was moments away from drinking as he picks up his little toolbox that sat beside his desk.

“Lead the way” he motions out of the room, not daring to make eye-contact with you; worried he were to drown in the depths of your eyes, calling him in like a siren would with song.

He watches your back as you walk him to your classroom, fingers itching to hold your hands, help you warm them up as the stupid heater in your classroom couldn’t do its job properly.

Yoongi didn’t exactly know what he expected your classroom to look like, never working up the courage to peek inside and take a look into such a large part of your life.

The flurry of colours was expected, paintings from what he assumes to be your classes over the years hung on the wall, with paints and pens stacked on short shelving by each wall of the room.

Your desk sits at the front of the room, little trinkets lining the edges, papers covering the surface like a blanket. And Yoongi has to stop the smile from pulling at his face from how disordered you are; just like him. And he can somewhat appreciate the beauty in the mess of your classroom, it showed it was loved, enjoyed by more than just the small group of children that spent nearly every hour in here every day, loved by you who clearly spent time lining the walls with letters and drawings all addressed to you, carefully printed and cut letters of the alphabet climbing the walls like vines and fairy lights hung like tree snakes lounging on a branch.

“This one over here” you point to the heaters under the window, and Yoongi cringes at the cool air that caresses his cheeks as he stalks the length of your classroom. Nipping his cheeks like little jaws trying to pull apart his skin.

As he kneels down, pulling his glasses from the front pocket of his hoodie, he takes a closer look at the pipes connected to the main framing of the heater. Yoongi tries not to pay attention to you as you shuffle through the mountain of papers on your desk, he tries not to focus on the way you bite your lip; the little devil that rest on his shoulder whispering for him to just kiss you.

Yoongi distracts himself with your heater, fingers a little shakier than usual as you wander around the room, picking up pots of paints off the shelves, brushes stored in separate drawers and laying them all on the little tables, perfect for the little toddlers you taught. Chairs so small they must have been the first bear’s that goldilocks had thought were too uncomfortable to sit on, they sure looked it; no amount of colour enough to mask the hard plastic they were made of.

Yoongi frowns when he finds the problem with your heater, somehow a bolt had gotten loose; he can only assume one of the children had fiddled with it. Little fingers always having to play with something, another thing he hated about kids. If it’s not meant to be touched, then don’t touch it.

He pulls a spanner out of his toolbox, fingers skimming over a screwdriver. He looks over at shelving unit by the heater, screws glimmering in the slowly growing sunlight that climbs its way over the top of the neighbouring school building.

And that same little devil on his shoulder whispers something a little naughty, something Yoongi knows he shouldn’t do. And maybe Yoongi was a little bit of a hypocrite, after just saying kids shouldn’t touch everything, but the screws looked so shiny, so inviting, a little accident that means he may get an extra half hour with you.

He peers over at you, sat at your desk, typing something on your laptop. And decides that what’s the worst that could happen? He quickly tightens the loose bolt to your faulty heater, turning the knob on the side just in case before he scoots his way over to the shelf that had been holding the paints you now had on the table.

He licks his lips, sucking in a sharp breath before he unscrews a few nails. Silently praying the shelf can hold up until he leaves the room.

You stay none the wiser, typing away on some blank document from what Yoongi can make out. He tucks his glasses back into the front pocket of his hoodie, dusting off the imaginary dust that clung to the knees of his jeans before he’s clearing his throat to catch your attention. You startle, eyes wide when they meet Yoongi’s, who thinks you look a little like a puppy caught doing something they were told not to.

He stifles his laugh, coving it with a cough, “Your heater should be working, I turned it up a little so the room should heat up quicker” he explains, motioning towards the offending object. Your shelves staring at him, and Yoongi worries you can see the guilt swimming in his eyes.

You nod, pushing yourself from your seat, you bow a little in thanks, “You’re the best” you grin, and Yoongi can feel his heartrate pick up; cheeks dusted in rosy red.

You were so pretty.

+ + +

Yoongi waits all day, ears perking up when footsteps echo down his end of the hall throughout the rest of work. Begrudgingly helping a few other teachers that seemed to have had heating problems in their classrooms too; a common theme it seems.

Or, the occasional pitter patter of kids running down the hallway like a heard of wild animals during breaktimes, or teens sneaking off to the bathrooms where they liked to make out, or a few other things if their dishevelled uniform meant anything as Yoongi wandered around for his afternoon walk.

He tries to spot you at lunch, his mood only souring when you never walk into the cafeteria, your melodic laughter not gracing the usual grating sound of stressed teaching staff, that all seemed to have a passion for complaining about their jobs.

Jin had tried to cheer him up, offering to share his homemade lunch just to get even a hint of a smile out of Yoongi, and usually the caretaker would love to bless his tastebuds with actual decent food; but it seemed nothing, but your pretty smile would suffice to sate his grumpy mood.

The minutes before the home-time bell slowly creep up on Yoongi, and on most days he would be ecstatic that he could finally escape this hellhole. He never understood why teachers would willingly return to the place that is designed to fuck over students; especially when the pay isn’t all that great. And most of them seemed to despise their jobs anyways.

Even after the bell rings, startling Yoongi from his own little reverie, he remains sat at his desk; a little quiver of hope still left inside of him that you would be stood in the doorway of his office once more.

He thinks it must be a daydream when you show up, unable to properly comprehend that you were once again stood before him. That would be the second time in one day.

He isn’t at all surprised when you give him a sheepish smile, “Do you have any spare screws? It seems my shelving has broken”

And a small flame of guilt licks at Yoongi’s heart and mind, but the pretty smile that stretches onto your lips when Yoongi only lets out a little laugh, picking up his little toolbox, is enough to expel any of his worries.

He once again gets to stare at your back as you walk back towards your classroom, pretty sweater still veiling your body; and Yoongi licks his lips at what you could be hiding underneath the layers you wear.

A blink of an image flashing behind his eyes of you sprawled across the sheets of his bed, his head tucked in-between your thighs. He knew he’d get addicted to your taste, surely with such a sweet voice, all of you must be just the same. Your arousal thick like nectar on his tongue as he pushes you over the edge to your own pleasure.

“Mr. Min?” you wave a hand in-front of his face.

Yoongi blinks, “Sorry?” he coughs, heat creeping up his neck, pinching the tips of his ears.

You point towards the mess of your bookshelf, paint pots and art supplies scattered across the floor from where the shelf had caved in on itself. A mound of mess that you would now have to tackle once Yoongi acts as your saviour; a dark knight that had secretly put you in this messy situation.

“I was putting the paint pots away when it sorta of just… collapsed”

Yoongi lets out a grunt of understanding, that same guilt from earlier tickling up his spine as he looks over the huge mess you’ll have to clear up once he fixes your shelving. He shouldn’t have taken those few screws that morning and should have just worked up the courage to ask you out instead of making your day harder. But he supposes what is done is done and now he must fix his selfish doings.

You remain sat at your desk, finger scrolling through your phone as Yoongi rummages through his little box of screws.

His fingers dip into the pocket of his jeans, shiny steel nails pricking the tips of his fingers.

“Do you need any help?” You startle the caretaker, worried smile on your face as Yoongi picks up a few of the fallen shelves.

“No, it’s alright” he waves you off.

“Would you like something to drink then?” you ask.

“Black coffee is fine, thanks” he shoots you a quick smile, gums on show.

Yoongi doesn’t notice the bristly heat that burns the soft skin of your cheeks as you wander towards a cabinet in the back of your classroom. Rummaging for the granulated coffee that a few of your co-workers stored by your kettle. Not your first beverage of choice but a few of your friends took advantage of your little drink station.

As the kettle boils your water, Yoongi can see you intently watching him from the corner of his eye; and he feels his palms get clammy from your attention set so closely on him. He would have compared your eyes to those of a hawk if you hadn’t been so utterly soft; tempting Yoongi to wrap you up in his pocket and dote on you.

“How did you get so good at this?” you wonder aloud, awe evident on your face as Yoongi easily slides a shelf back into place.

Yoongi pauses, “Honestly I’m not sure. Guess I’m just good with my hands”

Your tongue peeks out to wet your lips at that; body jumping when the little click of the kettle finishing boiling. You whip back around to finish Yoongi’s drink, said man finding it hard to stop a little smirk from tugging at his lips at your flushed cheeks, pretty even painted in red.  

You place a rounded pink mug on the windowsill by where Yoongi is working, and he mutters a quick thanks before he’s focusing back on holding the panel of wood back into the right place, silver nail balanced between his lips.

“I never got your name” Yoongi says when you take a seat at one of the student’s tables, warm mug of hot chocolate heating your cold hands up.

“Y/n” you tell him, “And you are?” you ask, only knowing of him by his surname.

“Yoongi” he tells you, pushing himself up with the help of your now sturdy shelf.

You push yourself up from the desk, placing your cup of drink down before you start picking up the scattered art supplies. Yoongi follows, tucking his screwdriver into the back pocket of his jeans as he picks up the paint pots that brought him back into your room. The vibrant colours glaring at him; a reminder of his sins.

“You don’t have to, Yoongi” you tell him, but said handyman ignores you; brain replaying how nice his name sounded when it came from your lips, dipped in sweet honey, addictive in the way that makes Yoongi want to beg you to say it one more time. Something about your voice enchanting, pulling him closer like a snake charmer does a snake with its pipe.

Instead, he brushes you off, “I’ve stayed this late, what more is a few minutes?”

Your nose scrunches at that, “Sorry about that”

+ + +

“Have you asked for her number yet?” Seokjin asks.

“What?” Yoongi feels a sense of déjà vu as he sits in the corner of the cafeteria, you sat at another table with a few other teachers. Though today you seem more focused on your lunch than any of the baseless chatter the others on your table seem to be immersed in.

“You stayed after school with her, had dinner together after that and you still haven’t asked for her number?” Jin gawks.

“No?”

“Min Yoongi” Jungkook shakes his head, “Ask the poor woman on a date or something”

“What if she was just being polite?” he asks the youngest, chewing at the skin of his bottom lip.

“She must be interested; she went out for dinner with you after you’d fucked up her shelves”

Yoongi’s head snaps in your direction, worried you'd somehow heard Jungkook, “She doesn’t know that, keep it down”

Jungkook snickers, “Seriously, ask her out. Otherwise, someone else might” he nods in the direction of your table, a stupidly handsome male laying his hands on your shoulders. Green jealousy bubbling inside of Yoongi as he just watches.

You turn to look up at him with a smile, grateful as he places a bag on the table in-front of you.

Yoongi narrows his eyes, “Who the fuck is he?” he tuts.

“Kim Namjoon, works in the high school”

“Cute dimples” Taehyung pulls out a spare chair beside Jungkook, leaning over to lay a wet kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

Yoongi grunts dramatically pushing himself from his seat. His hands slam onto the table, “You guys are going out tonight, right?” he turns towards Jin who only nods, confusion evident on his face.

Yoongi storms over towards the table you’re sat at, and as he draws closer, he can only wonder where this burst of confidence came from; ignition slowly burning to nothing but warm embers as he pushes one foot in-front of the other. But when he makes eye contact with slimy looking Namjoon, a cursed smile being shone his way Yoongi’s anxiety seems to be the least of his worries.

“Y/n” he calls you, endeared by your wide eyes that flit to meet his own, happiness enveloping your eyes as you look up at him.

“Yes?” you stand when Yoongi makes it to your side, still having to stare up at him from beneath the veil of your eyelashes, ones that Yoongi finds very pretty.

“We’re going out for dinner tonight” he throws a thumb over his shoulder towards his table of friends, Taehyung waves, boxy smile an attempt to placate your worries, “And I was wondering if you wanted to… wanted to come with us?”

Yoongi knows you must be able to see the unease that swims in his eyes, and he worries that maybe he looks a little desperate, stalking towards your table unannounced; but with your small group of co-workers all staring at him like he’d grown a second head, he’s seconds away from scuttling out the cafeteria.

“That would be lovely, Yoongi” you smile.

“I’ll meet you at the gate after school?” he asks, eyes brightening in hope. You nod and Yoongi has to bite his lip to stop the huge smile that threatens to pull at his cheeks.

+ + +

“I swear he isn’t always like this” Yoongi shakes his head, turning his attention to look at you.

“I think it’s amusing” you turn towards your new friend, wincing when Seokjin, who had previously been dancing on a chair, falls onto a table. Both your eyes snap towards the eldest of the group, trying to gauge if he was okay or needed immediate medical attention.

Yoongi supposes the alcohol coursing through Seokjin’s veins was enough to help him stagger to his feet like he hadn’t just body slammed into a table, and Jungkook has to wave off a worried bar tender who had already pulled his phone from his pocket, moments away from calling for an ambulance.

Taehyung scans Jin’s body, trying to figure out if he had a concussion or not. And Jungkook tries to ask his hyung if he remembers who he is.

“This isn’t what I imagined dinner to be” you turn back to Yoongi who elegantly brings his glass of whisky to his lips, somehow looking like royalty in such a grimy bar, tucked away in an alleyway.

He hums, letting his taste buds soak in the refined flavour of the liquor before he answers you, “Me neither. Usually, we go to that shitty Italian place down the street”

“I like it there!” you exasperate, “Their dessert is really good”

“I don’t like dessert”

“What?” you breathe, “You devil, how could you not like dessert?”

Yoongi snorts, a little unattractive on his part but he couldn’t help himself, “Why stuff yourself more when you’ve just had a meal?” (Maybe you liked to be stuffed, but you thought it was a bit too soon for that conversation)

“Because you always have a second stomach for dessert” you tell him instead, “Honestly I got that vibe from you”

“What vibe?”

“Dessert hating vibes, I knew the moment you told me you liked black coffee, with no milk, no sugar that you were a dessert hater” you explain, dramatic shake to your head.

“I’m not a dessert hater, doll. I just have priorities”

“Really bad ones. I refuse to accept any dessert slander”

Yoongi opens his mouth, eyes widening a little in shock when you place a finger over his lips, “Uh uh” you shake your head.

Yoongi laughs at that, tongue poking out from between his lips to lick your finger. You recoil, nose scrunching at Yoongi who only laughs. (He had always preferred his own fingers in other people’s mouths, never really enjoying them in his own).

“Okay, lovers, we’re going home” Jungkook pushes between yours and Yoongi’s seats, “Jin’s about to pass out and I’m moments away from leaving him on the streets”

Both you and Yoongi turn to look over at Taehyung who holds up a very wobbly Seokjin, and you nod in understanding. But Yoongi feels his heart sink at the thought of having to go home already, he had started to enjoy your company, slowly peeling back each layer of your very being.

“I’ll walk you home” Yoongi places a hand on your shoulder when the five of you make it out of the bar. You nod, giving Jungkook a quick hug before he helps Taehyung lug their friend home.

You and Yoongi walk in silence, nothing uncomfortable; just the two of you basking in the company of one another.

Yoongi startles a little when you take a sudden hold of his wrist, “Yoongi, let’s go there” you pull him towards the familiar, drab Italian restaurant that he’s spent way too many weekends drinking in.

The lights at the front blink, bare wires hanging on for dear life to keep the neon lights hung about the windows of the restaurant. The fluorescent light momentarily blind the both of you as you wander inside.

Yoongi makes no fuss as you pull him into a booth by the window, encouraging you even, by handing you a menu. You flip it open, “My treat” you say, ignoring Yoongi as he opens his mouth to argue.

“You can treat me, next time”

Next time.

You wanted to see Yoongi again. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through him, making him that little more delusional that you could feel the same about him as he does you.

“Fine” he drawls, motioning for a waiter to come to the table when you drop the menu with a little smile.

<3

“Did you really have to order only dessert?”

“I got you black coffee as well” you argue, “if you don’t like them, then I’ll eat it”

Yoongi tuts, watching as the waiter brings over your tray of treats. More sugar than the mad hatter had at his tea party balanced on one rusting metal tray.

You wiggle happily in your seat, and Yoongi turns his head to look out the window, coving the blush that coats the skin of his cheeks in dusty red; and Yoongi wonders if this is what falling in love feels like, a new addiction worming its way into his heart. And Yoongi worries he won’t be able to stop himself, fingers itching to feel this again even if it’s only one more time.

“I got you tiramisu, because it tastes like coffee” you push the small plate towards him, eyes wide with wonder as Yoongi take a fork from one of the napkins, everything he does fascinating you as he holds himself with the grace and dignity a lot of people aspire for.

He awkwardly takes a forkful of cake, worried you were scrutinizing him for not eating this right. What if he hated it? And you got offended? What if you were turned off because he didn’t like the same foods as you? Is it a red flag to not like sweet things? God, Yoongi would shovel this cake into his mouth if it meant you’d give him a smile.  

Yoongi thinks you must be able to read his mind, “You don’t have to like it” you remind him, picking up your own fork as you pull a plate towards your body, excitement of a child in your eyes.  

+ + +

“What are you doing for Christmas?” you ask, turning towards Yoongi who dips his paintbrush into the can.

“Probably spend it with my dog” he shrugs, rubbing his gloved hands across his sweats, hoping to warm them up a little.

“You have a dog?” you gape, “Why didn’t you tell me?” you sulk.

Yoongi had told you he’d noticed the paint on your heaters chipping, a potential fire hazard (or so he claims), and that he would repaint them for you with heat safe paint. You’d nodded, offering to help him during the weekend, He’d shrugged, telling you it was your choice, that the room would be cold as you couldn’t paint on scorching hot metal, but you’d only giggled, telling him to pass his phone so you could add his number, and that you’d see him tomorrow. And Yoongi had felt dizzy when you’d brushed him off, determined to meet him that weekend and help.

Now he finds himself with you, both bundled up in coats, and woolly gloves to keep the both of you warm as you paint the morning away. The morning birds haven finished their songs for the day, probably ready to eat as lunch neared, afternoon sun squeezing minimal heat into the classroom through the windows.

“Do you have any plans?” he asks, foot tapping anxiously on the floor.

You shake your head, “I usually visit my parents, but they said they’re sick of white Christmases. So, my dad whisked them off to some tropical island until the end of February when it gets a little warmer”

“You didn’t want to go?”

“It’s not that, I just have a job, and I wouldn’t be able to stay all that long with work chasing me during the holidays”

Yoongi hums, “Want to spend it together?”

Your eyes widen, turning towards Yoongi who continues to paint, acting as if he hadn’t just offered to spend Christmas with you.

“Huh?” you breathe, “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude”

“On what? Me and my dog? Jin Hyung usually stops by, but I think he secretly has a girlfriend because for the last two years he drops off some cookies and then rushes out the door, without his obligatory kisses”

“What about Jungkook and Taehyung?”

“They spend the holidays together, probably fucking. They can’t keep their hands to themselves” you giggle at that.

“They’re cute” you tell him, happy smile pulling onto your face as you recall the ‘dinner’ you’d had together a few weeks ago. And how much Jungkook and Taehyung seemed to be drawn to one another; you think they must the definition of love. Just pure, unadulterated love between the two of them. Two little lovebirds who are mates for the rest of their lives, always drawn to one another.

Jin had showed up to your classroom with a box of chocolates to apologize on the following Monday, babbling how unprofessional the whole encounter was. You’d waved him off, inviting him for coffee or tea during break times if he ever needed a breather from the swarm of students that always seem to gather outside his office door. All hoping to spend a little more time with the good-looking language teacher, innocent crushes pushing them to work hard in class.

He’d thanked you. Apologizing once more before he’d scuttled away with a sheepish smile plastered on his face. Late for a meeting he had with the head of department, and he had already missed the meeting the month prior.

“They’re cute when they’re not sucking each other’s tongues” Yoongi grunts, nudging the sleeve of your jacket so it wouldn’t fall into the pan of paint, worried it wouldn’t wash out from your sleeves.

“Let them be in love” you whine, wiggling a little in place, “Could you imagine loving someone like they do?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Never been in love”

“Really?”

“I mean I dated in high school but nothing close to love” Yoongi turns towards you, “What about you?”

Your cheeks flush, “I’ve never uhh—I’ve never dated. Like at all”

Yoongi blinks, “Not even that smarmy dick?”

“Who?”

“Kim Namjoon or whatever his name is?”

Your tongue wets your lips, and then your eyes widen, “God no” you let out a long breath, “He asked me out last year and I said no. Why on earth would a high school literature teacher ask me out?”

“Because you’re pretty?” Yoongi replies, avoiding eye contact by mixing the paint a little.

“That’s shallow of him” you scoff, “He’s a narcissist anyways, I would never be as good looking as he believes himself to be” you tell Yoongi, and the caretaker wants to bash his head against the table behind him with how oblivious you are.

“That’s shitty” Yoongi agrees, though he feels his heart constrict. Didn’t you know how perfect you are?

“You know he told me I should have studied for a more sophisticated profession, and asked why I wanted to work with kids below the age of 15” you frown, “I thought that was a little mean, so I told him to go fuck himself”

Yoongi laughs at that, “I always see him near your table at lunch”

You hum, nodding—“He’s been trying to win me over with cakes and cookies, I only smile so I get free stuff out of him”

“So, you’re leading him on?”

You drop your brush into the paint pan, “Is that what I’m doing? That’s really shitty” you look at Yoongi with guilty eyes. 

“I guess if he’s a bad man then it’s a little more forgivable” he gently places his paintbrush beside your own, “But he doesn’t deserve you if he’s an asshole”

You nod at that, small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

+ + +

“Please Yoongi” you tug on the sleeve of his jacket, trying to veer him towards the ice rink.

He only grunts, “I don’t skate”

“But it’s Christmas” your shoulders fall, and Yoongi feels as though he just kicked a puppy with your sad pout.

“Fine” he takes your hand, pulling you towards the old woman at the rental booth.

<3

Yoongi can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat, having just watched you fall onto your bottom only minutes after getting onto the rink.

“Hey!” you point an accusing finger at him, “It’s not funny”

“Just a little, darling” he tries hard to stifle his laugh, but fails miserably when you try to push yourself to stand; stood more like a new-born doe who hadn’t grasp the concept of walking yet.

Yoongi misses the devious smile on your face when he bends down to help you stand, your cheeks warming at the pretty smile the caretaker had, warm like a spring afternoon.

“When you offered for us to go skating, I thought you’d be good at it”

You cross your arms over your chest, instantly regretting the sudden action as you wobble. You let out something akin to a squeak when Yoongi takes a hold of your arms, helping stabilise you as your stomach tenses.

“My little deer” he laughs, hands skimming down the length of your arms to hold your hands.

You feel heat creep up your neck, burning the tips of your ears; feeling some relief knowing that your nose and ears were already red from the cold, so you only bite your lip, trying not to let your shuddering breath become known to Yoongi.

He, however, sees your eyes glaze over, something he hadn’t seen from you yet. And it only feeds into his little fantasy of you sprawled out across the sheets of his bed, his name clinging to your tongue, dripping like sweet honey as you beg for more. More of what? He has yet to decide. He’s imagined eating you out, sure that you’d recoil, shy, when he tries to go down on you. He wonders what you’d look like, bouncing prettily on his cock, begging for him to help you, legs shaking as he pounds into you, if your moans would be as soft as your voice, if you’d try to cover your mouth with your hands.

Yoongi coughs, bringing his attention back to you who wobbles, another attempt to skate towards him on your own. This time, Yoongi is ready when you stagger forwards, holding onto your waist as you tumble into his chest.

“Sorry” you whisper, “I don’t think I’m very good at this”

Yoongi laughs, “Nothing a little practice can’t fix”

+ + +

“Merry Christmas Yoongi” you beam, handing him the neatly wrapped gift, little cats printed on the paper.

“Merry Christmas” he takes you hand, pulling you into his warm apartment, heat enveloping you, cleansing you from the toe biting cold of the outside world.

You startle at the wet nose that prods your bare fingers, gaze flitting towards the floor where the fluffy little dog sniffs at your clothes, a cute puff of brown.

“That’s Holly” he tells you, placing your gift underneath the small tree into the corner of the living room beside the one he had bought you.

You crouch down, scratching Holly under the chin, giggling as the excited dog circles your legs.

You wander into the living room, not so subtly peeking at Yoongi’s home. You liked it; it was cosy, and ever so Yoongi. You take a seat on one of the couches, Yoongi following suit once he’d turned the tree lights on, green like vibrant dragonflies dancing from branch to branch.

“I hope you’re okay with takeaway, I looked up how to cook Christmas dinner online, and it’s a little too advanced for me”

You smile, “Don’t tell my mother, but I’ve never been a fan of Christmas dinner”

“Perfect”

<3

“You make music?” you gawk, “That’s so cool”

“It’s a nice side hobby I suppose” he shrugs, not delving into how deep his love for music really is; he knew that if he started, he wouldn’t know when to stop. A little too passionate about his producing than he would like to let on, the last thing he needed was for you to leave when he was enjoying your company.

“You’ll have to show me one day” you tell him, nudging his shoulder as you sit beside one another. Knees pressed snug, body heat warming one another up.

Yoongi picks up another slice of beef, placing it on your plate, “maybe” he shrugs.

“You’re very secretive” you point out.

“Private”

You hum at that, “That is a good trait. More for me to uncover”

“Yeah?” he asks, smile tugging at his lips, “What are you trying to uncover”

Yoongi doesn’t miss the as your eyes flit down his body, straying a little at the waist band of his sweats before travelling back to his lips.

“Everything” you tell him honestly, and he can see the naked emotions that swim behind your eyes; raw need.

“I suppose you should get started then” he whispers, eyes flicking between both of your own.

“Right now?”

Yoongi nods, turning his body to face you; his hand coming to cup your cheek. You close your eyes, low moan reverberating up your throat as Yoongi presses his lips gently against your own. And as cliché as it sounds, Yoongi thinks he hears fireworks somewhere in the distance, lips tingling with want as he feels the warmth of you pressed along the length of his body.

Yoongi drinks in every little sound you make, spurring him to deepen kiss, his tongue flicking to part your own. As you both pull away, Yoongi leans in for a quick peck to your lips before he falls back into his seat.

“I guess I also have a lot to uncover, huh?” he whispers, fingers tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I really like you Y/n” he admits, hands clammy as he gauges your reaction.

“I really like you too” you tell him, and Yoongi smiles at the red hue that coats your cheeks; he can only imagine his match your own.

+ + +

“We should totally go on a double date” Taehyung grins, arm wrapped around Jungkook’s shoulder.

“We’re not dating though” Yoongi grunts, leaning back in his seat. His gaze flits over towards your table of co-workers, you more focused on something on your phone than what they were gossiping about.

“You went on a date, spent Christmas and New Year together, kissed, confessed and you’re not dating?” Jin gawks, astonished by what he was hearing.

Yoongi had asked after your little Christmas escapade, if you wanted to spend New Year together as well. He took you out for lunch, and then the two of you milled around a little market on the outskirts of the city. He’d met a few of your students, their happy smiles when they spotted you, warming Yoongi’s heart. And God forbid he didn’t hate children as much as he used to. (They could be cute sometimes, but only when it comes to you.) As well as conversing with a few parents, more than a few commenting on how cute you and Yoongi were together.

Nothing much more than kissing had happened, and you’d found the excuse for a few more kisses when you’d spotted little brushes of mistletoe hanging from the market huts, left over from the Christmas market that plagued the streets only weeks prior. And who was Yoongi to deny tradition?

The two of you had sat on a hill on New Year’s Day, Yoongi with his coffee, and you with piping hot, hot chocolate, both a little hung over from your little festivities the night prior (with a kiss when the clock hands struck midnight), and the both of you talked about the future. Your individual futures, and the future you want to have together.

You’d both agreed to take it slow, neither of you needed to rush into this relationship. You both knew you liked each other, that much had been established, and there was a mutual understanding that you had all the time in the world to learn more about each other before defining your relationship. You both understood what you had was exclusive, but neither of you felt labels were necessary. The unnecessary shadow that would loom over your shoulders, creeping up on you until your relationship evidently crumbles under the pressure of societal labels and standards of what a ‘good’ relationship is.

“So what?” Yoongi turns towards Jin, “We’re taking it slow”

“Slow my ass, you both act like you’ve been in a long-term relationship”

“Do not” Yoongi argues, feeling stupid that his reply had come off so juvenile.

“Yeah?” Seokjin challenges, and Yoongi knows he shouldn’t take the bait.

But he does, “Yeah”

“Whose lunchbox is that then?” he points at the prettily wrapped lunch that sat before you on the table. New shiny bento box that Yoongi had ordered online especially for you, with enough layers to make sure you would eat a nutritional lunch. With how many sweets you ate, Yoongi worried you spoiled yourself, so he took on the role of your chef; making sure you were eating healthier.

Yoongi coughs, “Mine. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Tease you” Jin laughs, pushing himself from his seat when Yoongi shoots him a hard glare. Waving at the small group before he makes his descent back to his classroom, a small group of students having filled in what was meant to be an easy lunch.  

“I think you’re doing great, Hyung” Jungkook soothes, smiling over at Taehyung who nudges his side.

“Kookie is right, you don’t have to rush into these things. As long as the two of you are happy, that’s all that counts” Taehyung nods.

“Plus, Jin Hyung is definitely projecting, he’s hiding someone. I just know it” Jungkook nods, head falling onto his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Yoongi!” you call as you skip towards his lunch table, perking up at your voice.

“Yes?” he pulls out what was once Jin’s chair, pulling you to sit beside him.

“What do you think about these for Holly?” you shove your phone into his face, “I really like the blue one” you mutter.

“They’re lovely, doll” he smiles, taking your phone so the bright screen wasn’t blaring in his eyes, the images more of a blur of colours, messily mixed like paints on a pallet.

“Personally, my favourite is the purple one” you scroll down when Yoongi places the device on the table. He looks down at the little sweater you have on a website that specialises in dog clothes.

“It’s cute” Yoongi agrees.

“But Yoongs, Holly would look good in like red or something” you sigh dramatically, prominent frown pulled at your pretty lips, begging Yoongi to kiss it away.  

Yoongi scrolls up, eyeing the other dog clothes they had on the website, “Why not get both? One for you and one for Holly” he shrugs, “There’s still a few weeks left of winter”

You nod, small smile now tugging at your lips and Yoongi feels somewhat accomplished. He ignores the intruding stares of his two friends sat across the table, kicking Taehyung’s shin when he opens his mouth to surely make a comment on Yoongi’s somewhat soft behaviour. Emotions on display for everyone to see.

“Okay!” you push yourself to stand, “I’m going to find my credit card” you announce and Yoongi grunts at that.

“I’ll pay” he also stands, but you push him back into his seat, shaking your head.

“No, you won’t. It’s my gift”

“Doll” Yoongi stares up at you, and he thinks he sees a crack in your resolve. He smiles when you cover his eyes with your hand.

“Don’t look at me like that” you whine, skin prickling with goosebumps when Yoongi skims his fingers down your arm, blindly seeking out your touch.

“Like what?” he asks, teasing lilt to his tone.

“Like you can tell me what to do”

“Is that so?”

You pull your hands from his eyes, frowning down at the caretaker, “I’m leaving” you tell him.

“I’ll take you out for dinner then” Yoongi calls when you turn away from the table.

“Okay!” you call over your shoulder, “text me later” you wave at him.

Yoongi turns towards Jungkook and Taehyung who have two annoying smiles plastered on their faces.

“Neither of you say a word” he points between them, “Not one”

+ + +

“Y/n!”

You startle, Yoongi using his hand to cushion your elbow before you could whack it on the edge of the table.

Both you and Yoongi turn towards where the honeyed voice came from, and Yoongi let’s out a low grunt when Namjoon saunters towards the table you’re sat at.

Yoongi had asked you out on a little coffee date, nothing too fancy, something to help the two of you wind down from another hectic week of work.

Yoongi had bought you a cake, getting the one that had little cat ears cut from sugar paper, and got himself a black coffee. You got sweet tea, and then you told him everything you’d been up to, talking of parents that had given you gifts at the start of the semester, and that you’d have to give him one of the funnier mugs for his coffee in the morning.

Everything was serene, perfect even. And Yoongi couldn’t have asked for anything more. His favourite girl by his side, with a perfect cup of coffee. Until Kim Namjoon decided to ruin his good mood.

“Namjoon” you greet, empty smile being thrown at the high school teacher.

“Fancy seeing you here” he laughs, inviting himself to your table. Taking a seat opposite Yoongi. Said man places his hand on your thigh gently, silent reassurance that he is there for you just in case this unplanned meeting goes south. And as much as you wanted to tell him to go away, you knew you would see him around work and the last thing you needed was an awkward encounter in the halls, you could feel your skin crawl at the thought of it.

“Yes, funny coincidence” you squeeze out, turning to look at Yoongi who gives you a curt nod.

“And who’s this?” Namjoon motions towards Yoongi, acting as though he was the one who had just barged into his café date. Eyes narrowing in slight distaste.

“Her boyfriend” Yoongi tells him, smug smile unmissable when Namjoon’s smile drops.

He turns to look at you, as if asking for confirmation. You nod, only deepening Namjoon’s frown. Yoongi’s fingers tighten on your thigh, and you feel a dull throb between your legs when he does, squirming a little in place, and if Yoongi notices, he doesn’t make it apparent.

“I didn’t know you two were—” he wags a finger in your general direction, “a thing” he finishes, the words leaving a bad taste on his tongue.

“Not everyone drones on about their relationships, Namjoon” you point out, finding it hard to fight off the smug smile that threatened to show. You see, Namjoon had a track record of bragging about his escapades, either it be a quick fling with a woman who worshiped the ground he walked on (his words, not yours), or short-term relationships where he would boast about every detail of his sex life. Something you had no interest in.

“If you’ll excuse us, I was enjoying my date” you motion to Yoongi beside you, a bored expression taking over his features.

“You heard her” he adds, motioning for Namjoon to leave. Translation: Fuck off.

Yoongi thinks he sees the tips of Namjoon’s ears flush red, slithering its way down his cheeks and neck, and Yoongi feels his heart swell when you lean against his shoulder; Namjoon glaring at the two of you as he stands up.

“Boyfriend, huh?” you ask when Namjoon is out of your general vicinity.

Yoongi turns to look out the window, his silent wish of you not bringing that up clearly not being heard by some higher power.

“Only if that’s okay with you” he mutters.

“Is this you asking me out?” you laugh, head falling backwards, and Yoongi turns, wanting to catch your smile.

“Y/n?” he calls, hand coming to hold your cheek as you tilt your head back down to look at him.

You hum.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

+ + +

“Okay!” Seokjin claps his hands, “News for this week. Yoongi first”

And all three pairs of eyes land on the caretaker. Now that the weather had started to warm up a little, the sun no longer shying away behind fluffy, cotton candy clouds, lunch times were spent behind the school. Away from students, and the beady eyes of other staff that had a habit of eavesdropping on everyone’s conversations. And then before you knew it, the whole faculty knew about your secrets.

Yoongi places a hand on his chin in thought, “I helped Y/n build a new desk for her classroom and put up some new blinds that she bought. Oh...” he drawls, “And she’s now my girlfriend”

Seokjin’s jaw drops, and Yoongi wants to make a snide comment, being cut out by a loud gasp from his hyung. Jungkook and Taehyung laugh from their spot opposite Yoongi, nodding their congratulations as Jin pinches the bridge of his nose.

“And you didn’t think to text me?” he mutters, mock offense lacing his tone.

“What about your partner Hyung?” Jungkook prods, not missing the wide eyes of the eldest.

“How did you know about that?” he whispers, leaning across the table.

“You were kind of obvious” Taehyung placates, wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“So? Who are they?” Yoongi prods, having waited years for his friend to finally spill the beans on this secret relationship he’d been trying to hide (and clearly failed).

“I met her in the town over, she already has a kid, but the father left. We’ve been taking it slow, but I really do like her” he admits, and Taehyung can’t help the mushy smile that takes over his features.

“On the topic of children…” Jungkook trails off, giving a look to his boyfriend, who only nods in encouragement. “We’re planning to adopt”

Yoongi’s eyes widen a little in surprise, it’s not as if the two hadn’t fiddled with the idea of adopting; he just never expected it to be so soon.

“Oh my god” Seokjin cried, “I’m going to be an uncle”

“That’s a really big decision” Yoongi nods, a small smile toying at the edge of his lips.

“It is” Taehyung agrees, “But we both have stable jobs, and a home. Neither of us plan to go anywhere anytime soon”

“What about the wedding?” Jin asks.

“A wedding can happen any time. We both know that we want to spend the rest of our lives together, so there’s no rush really” Jungkook shrugs.

“What about you Hyung? When are you getting married” Taehyung points his attention towards the caretaker.

“He only just asked me to be his girlfriend” your arms wrap around Yoongi’s neck, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss on his cheek.

Yoongi scoots over to make room for you on the bench.

“Not with your friends?” he asks, hand coming to rest on your thigh as you pull your own lunch (courtesy of Yoongi), placing it onto the table.

“Nope” you shake your head, handing him a neatly cut triangular sandwich, “Namjoon came over, so I lost my appetite” you tell him, and he hums in understanding. Muttering a short ‘bastard’ under his breath.

+ + +

Perfect didn’t seem like the right word to describe your relationship with Min Yoongi. It was beyond anything you could have ever asked for. Something that not many people had during their first relationships; trial and error finally pulling you down the path of your soulmate. However, you seemed to hit the jackpot, first try.

Before you knew it a year had flown by, memories floating by like the wind would, caressing your cheek in the morning on the way to school. Days merging into weeks and weeks into months. And even with a mush of weeks and days, Yoongi always made you feel the most special, like you were the only one he had eyes for.

Yoongi had never been the most vocal man, but you’d learnt that he loved you all as much. He would pack your lunches in cute little boxes, and on Friday’s he would slip a little note into your bag with plans for the weekend or a shopping list so you could both wander around the supermarket as soon as the home time bell rigs. He would come to your classroom after school with cold drinks in the summer and overly sweet hot chocolate in the winter.

Although he would never admit it, he really did like the tiramisu from that shitty Italian restaurant at the end of street, and he thought it was ridiculous how many dates the both of you had spent in there. He’d voiced out a concern one evening, you sprawled across his bed like a dream, with your favourite candle lit, and Holly filling the gap between your bodies; he worried he wasn’t doing enough. You had told him you really didn’t care, as long as you were together, even lounging in bed for the day made you happy. And as if to prove a point, you and Yoongi had spent the whole day in bed together, binging your favourite shows (amongst other things).

You walked around fair grounds together, shared secrets between kisses, and it was the small things that he would do for you, that reminded you that Min Yoongi really did love you. Like washing your face of an evening or picking up snacks from the convenience store because he knew you’d ran out.

You remember the evening he opened up about his music, not just a silly little hobby like he had initially told you. He told you about how cathartic it was for him to produce. He showed you notebook upon notebook of lyrics that he had written from his teens through to his adult years; a little window into the man you were dating.

You know he likes dogs more than cats; you know he adores Holly. You know he hates sweet coffee, the bitter taste on his tongue somewhat of a comfort for him. You know he liked to stay home rather than melt within a crowd of rowdy people. And if the two of you ever found yourself trapped with too many sounds and too many bodies, Yoongi would place his hand on the back of your neck, reassurance that he was still there, helping ground you from all the overflowing number of stimuli that were trying to scratch at your brain.

Min Yoongi liked to cook, liked to experiment in the kitchen and he loved it even more when he could cook for you. He liked watching your face light up when you liked something, he liked the way your nose would scrunch up in that cute way when a taste was unfamiliar or too bitter.

Yoongi liked the curtains in your apartment, thin in a way the sun would caress your skin as it woke before you. As he would lay there, fingers trailing over the naked skin of your back, loving the way you’d slowly start to become conscious of the world around you. And the smile that would stretch onto your face, unconditional love mingled with tired eyes as you woke up to the sight of sleep roughed Yoongi first thing in the morning.

Yoongi liked the winter more than he did the summer. Maybe it was because that is when he first worked up the courage to talk to you.

Yoongi liked wearing the colour black, something so simple but looked so good on him. He, however, adored when you’d wear colourful shirts, dresses that complimented the tone of your skin, and he thinks if he were to turn this into a metaphor, you were the one who finally brought colour into his monotone life. An endless cycle of loneliness that he hadn’t realised he was drowning in before he had met you.

Yoongi liked that when you had moved into his home, small parts of you leaked into his, your, living space. Canvases of unfinished paintings, and photos from your childhood. His closet was no longer half empty, overflowing with a concoction of both your clothes. Odd pieces of furniture that you hadn’t wanted to let go of now filling the gaps of his once arguably scarce apartment.

Min Yoongi loved you.

He loved everything about you.

He loved how kind you were, patient in a way that only a kindergarten teacher could be. He liked that with others you always seemed a little reserved, shy in your actions, but with him you had no qualms about what you said or how you acted. Min Yoongi loved you because you always thought of him as much as he thought of you. He would feel his heart flutter when you would leave coffee on the desk in his office or help him pick out what shirt to wear to work.

Min Yoongi loved that you were the last thing he would see before he went to sleep, with his arm slung around your waist, and he loved that from the minute he would wake up, there you were, right by his side.

Min Yoongi loved that you were the last missing puzzle piece of his life. Fitting ever so perfectly in the gap he never knew was missing.

+ + +

“Yoongi, hold on” you gasp, head falling back into the plethora of pillows he had thrown onto the bed.

‘So you’re comfy’ Yoongi had frowned. And if you could think a coherent thought maybe you would thank him. Your head rocking up into the pillow padded headboard; pleasure licking up your spine.

You feel Yoongi’s tongue flick at your clit, a mixture of his own spit and your arousal dripping down his chin like liquid honey. And Yoongi makes sure to try and save every delicious mouthful of your essence. Something so uniquely you, so sweet, something that only Yoongi gets the pleasure to taste; because he had no plans of letting you go anytime soon.

Your boyfriend prods his tongue at your entrance, your legs shaking as his thumb gently brushes over your overstimulated clit. You see, Yoongi had this game, he liked to see how long he could eat you out, and how many times he could make you cum before he fucked you senseless on his cock. Leaving your clit to throb in a mixture of want and denial, swollen from being toyed with.

“One more, baby” he takes a deep breath, wasting no time in diving his tongue into you, molten arousal coating his lips, and as much as Yoongi loved it when your thighs would clamp round his head, today he wanted you bare. Spread out prettily just for him to devour. So, he holds your thighs open, straining them as he tries to push his head as far between your thighs as physically possible, lips pulling into a grin when you thrust your hips to meet his tongue; chasing your own pleasure.

He feels your fingers thread with his hair when he pushes his tongue in a little deeper, thumb still strumming at your clit. And he wonders if he could make you cum from just playing with your clit alone. He’d made you cum just from toying with your nipples once, the picture of you, flushed face, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies as his teeth clamped down on your puffy nipples, red raw from his mouth, and he remembers the surprised moan you’d graced him with when you had come.  

“I can’t” you moan, mouth falling open.

Yoongi grunts, pulling his face away from your cunt, his index finger sinking into your entrance.

“Yes, you can” he tells you, fingers delving, eager to find that spot which will make you see stars, groaning at the sound you let out when he sinks a second finger into your greedy cunt.

He uses his other arm to hold down your waist as you try to eagerly buck into his fingers, little whimpers tumbling from your lips, and Yoongi thinks that was his favourite sound. He had asked once to add your moans to a song, your cheeks had flushed, laughing like Yoongi had been joking. And then your boyfriend had fucked you in his home office, with your hand clamped over your mouth, a little game to see how long you could stay silent.

He was surprised how long you’d been able to keep it up, and it had become his own personal goal to make sure you moaned his name every time he played with you.

“Please, please, please” you whine breathlessly.

“Please what, baby? I can’t help you of you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he frowns, tone mocking as he slows his fingers to a gentle thrust.

“No, no, Yoongi faster please” you cry, tilting your head to look at him, and Yoongi leans up to brush the stray tears from your cheeks, sadistic smile on his face.

“Yeah?” he asks, watching as you nod; pitiful as you rock your hips to try and push his fingers deeper inside of you.

Your boyfriend leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your pouty lips, your sad frown enough for him to finally give you what you want.

He trails his lips down your body, stopping to press a gentle kiss to your nipples, tongue flicking out to toy with them as you wiggle underneath him, shuddering breath reverberating around the otherwise silent room.

“Cum one more time and then I’ll fuck you” he mutters, “Okay, baby?”

You hum, and Yoongi pushes himself off your body.

“Words” he reminds you, and you have to wrack your brain.

“Yes”

“Good girl” he pushes his head back between his legs, something comforting about being here; like Yoongi belonged, sandwiched between your thighs.

Two of his fingers strum at your clit, a breathy chuckle fanning over your sensitive cunt when he laughs as you moan. His tongue lapping up the arousal that had started to dribble from your hole.

“You’re really wet, baby”

You hum, not quite sure you heard him or not. But Yoongi laps up another string of your essence, acting more like a starved puppy than a man, but he supposes he always was a little feral around you.

“Think you can squirt for me?” he grunts, exchanging his tongue for his fingers as the wet muscle in his mouth now plays with your clit.

He suctions the sensitive pearl, teeth grazing it as he sinks three fingers into your hole. You moan into a pillow, thighs once again shaking as Yoongi thrusts his fingers into you in quick succession. He can feel your walls clench around him sporadically, tips of his fingers nudging that spongy tissue as he curls them upwards.

“Cum, baby” he grunts, wrist straining as he tries to keep a steady pace.

He feels his fingers being pushed from your hole as you squirt, his shirt soaking through with your juices. Your thighs shakes as he pushes his fingers back into your cunt, thrusting them in a couple of times before more of your arousal leaks onto the bed sheets.

“How messy” he tuts, pulling his shirt from over his head.

“Your fault” you argue, chest rising and falling, uneasy as you catch your breath.

Yoongi pushes himself up your body, arms flexing as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips; a lot slower, more passionate than those from prior in the evening.

Yoongi brushes a wet piece of hair from your face, your forehead glazed with a thin layer of sweat.

“You did so well for me” he whispers, hands trailing down the sides of your body, an attempt to ground you a little. When he sees a little more clarity in your eyes, legs not still shaking where they rest against his thighs he presses a gentle kiss to your cheeks.

“Think you can take my cock?” he asks, “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to” he reminds you.

You nod, “I’m okay, I don’t know if I can cum again though”

“Guess we’ll have to check” he pushes himself to sit on his knees.

Yoongi ignores you as you eye his sweats, hard shaft hardly veiled by the grey fabric. And you think you are moments away from jumping the man. With how perfect he looked in the orange glow of the lamplight, chin shining in your arousal. It was hard to stop your pussy from leaking, and it would have been a little embarrassing just how wet you were if you didn’t know Yoongi absolutely loved when you got like this for him.

You watch as he leans across the bed, lithe fingers tugging the drawer open. Your fingers toy with the waist band of his sweats, and Yoongi lets out a breathy chuckle when you tug on them.

Your boyfriend sits up, shiny foil packet held between two fingers, those same two fingers that had brought you to your high twice already tonight.

“Can I help?” you push yourself to sit up, biting your lip at the dull throbbing between your thighs.

Yoongi hands the condom to you, scooting himself off the bed to discard the rest of his clothes. You watch as he pulls off his sweats, having foregone any underwear that evening, and your eyes train on his cock.

You think that your boyfriend maybe had the prettiest cock, he took pride in grooming himself; always making sure to be clean. You can only wonder how long it must have been erected for, cockhead an angry red, shiny with Yoongi’s own arousal, little beads of pre-cum cascading down his length.

You lean forwards, taking the girthy cock into your hands, the familiar weight making you salivate a little. You run the tip over your lips, coating it in Yoongi’s pre-cum.

“No teasing, doll” he grunts, and you smile, pulling back.

You roll the latex over his shaft, leaving it to bob uselessly against the skin of his stomach as he climbs back onto the bed.

“You sure you’re, okay?” he checks, helping lay you down comfortably, lifting the lower half of your body by your ankles, his other hand grabbing a pillow to cushion your hips.

He drops your legs back onto the bed, watching as you smile up at him.

“Come here” you tell him, and Yoongi obliges, humming into the gentle kiss you place on his lips, your own cum still staining the taste of him.

He wraps your thighs around his waist, one arm holds him up as he lines himself with your entrance.

Your mouth falls open into a silent ‘o’ when he pushes the head in, and Yoongi always makes sure to watch your face when he finally fucks you; not only as reassurance that you like what’s happening but so he knows just the right spot to drill into you.

Yoongi holds your hips as you try to rock forwards, his own hips stuttering in anticipation; but he holds himself back, liking the intimacy of having you sprawled out beneath him, fully trusting that he’ll take care of you. There had always been something so fulfilling to Yoongi about these intimate moments with you, your bodies joining to become one, your body pliant to his every move.

His hands leave your hips, skimming up your body before lacing his finger between your own.

“You good?” he whispers, unsure if he could utter anything more with how warm and wet you were, cunt clenching rhythmically around his length.

“Yeah” you whisper back, fingers tightening around his own when he gently pulls out before thrusting back into you.

Something akin to a squeak, tumbles from your lips when Yoongi picks up his pace, hands never letting go of yours as his hips snap forwards, thighs slapping against thighs with nothing more than the music of your bodies filling the silence of your bedroom.

Yoongi can only describe the sounds coming from you as pornographic, his thrusts pushing you up a little on the bed, he feels your nails dig into the skin of his hands, his own grunts mirroring your own pleasure.

“So close, so close” he chants, using whatever strength he has left in his arms to lean down, greedily sucking your left nipple between his teeth, teasing nips sending jolts of pleasure down your body.

Your boyfriend can feel your legs shake as he sucks a love bite just above the sensitive skin of your nipple, your hips bucking to meet his own.

He lets go of one of your hands, “Play with yourself, pretty. Let’s cum together”

You nod, sweat trickling down your neck as you trail a hand down your body. Slicking up your fingers from where Yoongi thrusts into you, your fingers start to play with your clit, jolt of pleasure causing your cunt spasm around Yoongi’s cock.

“Gonna cum” you whine, Yoongi’s teeth clamping around your nipple enough to push you over the edge.

Your legs tighten around his waist, stopping Yoongi’s sloppy thrusts, as you push him as deep inside of you as humanly possible. Your mind a blank slate as it rewires, slowly trying to become conscious of your surroundings.

You feel his cock twitch, his own cum shooting him the condom.

Yoongi collapses on top of you, a rush of air squeezing from your lungs when he lands with a dull thump.

“Ouch” you giggle, not protesting when his arms snake around your waist, flipping the two of over so you lay gently on his chest. 

Yoongi’s fingers brush through your damp hair, “You did so well for me, pretty” he tells you, golden glow of the lamp illuminating him in that post-orgasmic bliss. If you though Yoongi looked good on a normal day, you had been utterly in awe when you’d seen him after he’d came.

“Thank you”

“For what?” he laughs, chest rumbling under your ear.

“Making me cum three times”

“Nothing I like more than my girl feeling good”

You hum at that, trying to push yourself up. Yoongi grunts, tugging you tighter against his chest.

“Yoongs I need to pee, and I feel all sticky” you complain, fingers toying with the divot of his collarbone.

“5 minutes”

“Min Yoongi” you laugh, pinching the skin of his neck.

“Fine but be quick” he loosens his arms. When you push yourself to sit, he pulls you back down.

“Hey!” you complain.

“Need a kiss first” he puckers up his lips, and you indulge him this one time, never in a hurry when it came to kissing your love.

And as you wash up in the bathroom, door slightly ajar where he can see you milling around, his fingers play with the little beaded bracelet you’d gifted him when you spent that first Christmas together.

Yoongi loved you a lot, more than he would ever be able to describe in words. He loved that he could give you a helping hand no matter the situation, and the shiny little ring, hidden away in his nightstand shrouded in a pretty, purple velvet box was his promise to you; that he would stay by your side for the rest of his life.  

What a creative concept! I love idiots to lovers so much and I like a good boss b!tch as OC too. And you managed to flesh out their personalities in such a short amount of time. Very fun and sexy!

cursed (Jungkook x Reader)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 11,617

Warngings: Angst, bickering, colorful language, mentions of bed hammers, fuck or die scenario (but there is consent, no worriews), smut, so much smut, and overdue library books.

Listening to: Stay Gold by BTS

Author's Note: This is me fulfilling a request (below), and I had a blast. Wasn't sure what to do then the idea fairies beat the shit out of me and poof. This happened.

The request was for a continuation of this, instead I made it bigger and hopefully better.

my masterlist

“Fuck…. Fuck… oh, come on, you gotta be shitting me,” you mutter to yourself as the things in your arms keep tumbling to the floor. Giving up, you place your water bottle, pencil case, and phone on the floor next to the other things you couldn’t carry, then go to get your backpack.

Walking into your bedroom, you glance at the time on the alarm clock next to your bed and hiss, “Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” You’re going to be late. Rushing out of your room, you practically fall to the floor and haphazardly shove things into your bag. On your feet, you get your shoes on and grab your keys, but before you can get to the door, you have to go back for your phone. 

“I can not be this duck-dicked,” you whisper as you lock the door and finally start heading to the cafe in the dreary November weather. 

Checking your phone, you have four minutes to walk somewhere twenty minutes away. While waiting to cross the street, you send a message to Jungkook that you are going to be late. You know he won’t care, but you don’t want to be rude and late. 

For three years you’d been studying with him, and not once had he given a shit that you were late because you were usually late. At least you weren’t unprepared. You were pretty sure that the only reason he still bothered with you was because it was just the two of you in this program, and you took better notes, but you didn’t care. It was nice not being the only one trying to cram all this shit in your head. 

You didn’t know if Jungkook even had a social life; you certainly didn’t. There was too much to do with school and work, you didn’t have time to do much more than replying to texts within 24 hours, and even then, you failed. 

The only thing keeping you moving forward today was the idea of coffee. Not having to study in the library and having coffee and snacks readily available was like a dream. 

Somehow making it in eleven minutes, you pushed the door open too fast, and it slammed hard against the wall. You cringed, mouthing, “Sorry,” to the barista that you’d terrorized with your aggressive clumsiness, then looked around for Jungkook. 

He was in the corner, head in his hand as he shook with barely stifled laughter. You sighed, ordered a drink and croissant, then went to the table to drop your jacket and stuff off. 

“It’s not that funny,” you said as you pulled your laptop out and set it on the table. 

Jungkook looked up at you, his hand covering his mouth, and you could see his eyes were watering. He took a breath before he dropped his hand and said, “You’re face—” Then he was lost again. 

You rolled your eyes before glancing over your shoulder to see the barista holding your drink up. Picking it up and apologizing again for the door, you finally sat opposite Jungkook at the table and sipped your coffee. 

Leaning back in your chair as Jungkook wiped his eyes, he said, “I have good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” you replied as you sat up and opened your laptop. 

Before you could press the power button, Jungkook was closing it on your hand. You glared at him as he said, “I need to go to the library.”

“Fuck you,” you whined, immediately thinking of your croissant that you would either have to eat too fast or wait to enjoy. 

“But,” Jungkook said, looking around before leaning close and continuing in a conspiratorial whisper, “The good news….”

Mirroring him, you asked, “What?”

He leaned even closer and gestured for you to do the same. Then he was whispering in your ear, and despite yourself, you blushed as he said, “Hspspspspssspss.”

You took a deep breath as you sat back and looked pointedly away from him as he giggled. Today might be the day you finally kill him with the biggest, oldest book you could find. Finally looking at Jungkook, he shrugged, “Better than there not being any good news, right?”

“Why do you need to go to the library?” you asked, still not ready to accept this turn of events. 

Jungkook pulled a paper out and slid it across the table toward you. Unsure why, since you’d both gotten it at the same time, then he pointed at the end of a bulleted list in the middle of the page. His finger tapped over the resources needed on the syllabus, and you wanted to scream. 

Leaning back hard in your chair and arms crossed, your whole day had been turned into a fresh pile of steaming shit, and you weren’t ready to deal with it. Jungkook put the paper back in his bag and started packing his stuff up. You were able to finish the coffee and croissant, but it tasted like your plans had changed, and that was bitter and unpleasant. Then you were both shouldering your backpacks and heading out the door. 

You walked in almost silence to the library. At first, you were trying to think of the last time your day had gone your way. Then you bumped into him, apologized, and it happened again. Your cheeks were burning again, but your scarf hid that as you realized you hadn’t walked anywhere with someone in a while. With Jungkook? Never. 

“Not used to walking?” he asked, nudging you with his elbow. 

“Shutup,” you said through your scarf. Your plan at this point was to make it the few blocks to the library without walking into him again. 

Jungkook’s arm went around your shoulders, and he pulled you against his body as he said, “Don’t worry, I got you, Nerd.”

You panicked for a moment but got control of yourself quickly. Jungkook had never done anything like this, but he did weird flirty shit all the time, and you were used to it and could brush it off. It didn’t mean anything, and you weren’t going to succumb to whatever ridiculous ideas you got late at night when you were alone in bed. 

Jungkook was attractive, thoughtful, and fun to be around, but you had priorities. Maybe if you kept repeating that at some point it wouldn’t feel like the flimsy excuse it was. Even if you thought he might like you, you didn’t have a reasonable way to bring this up. Every fantasy you had was of Jungkook approaching you or attacking you because the feelings the imaginary Jungkook had been too much for him to hold back. But that’s not how relationships started. It was just something fun to think about while you fell asleep, nothing more. 

His arm stayed draped across your shoulders until you got to the library; the walk had gone quicker than expected. Jungkook dropped his arm and held the door open for you, and asked, “Usual spot?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said as you held open one of the second set of doors for him. 

Jungkook walked past you, then greeted the person at the front desk. You did the same, but Jungkook went to the counter. He leaned on his folded forearms as he talked to his friend, and you went to find a pair of desks. 

As you dropped your bag on the privacy desk, you looked up to see Jungkook waving at you. Furrowing your brow, you took your backpack and went back toward the desk. He was grinning, and when you were close enough, he said as quietly as he could, “We can use one of the rooms.”

“Why?” you blurted before adding, “We don’t need a room.”

The guy at the desk, Jimin, according to his badge, rolled his eyes before holding his hand out and saying in a bored voice, “Student ID.”

“C’mon, we never get to use a whole table,” Jungkook whined, tugging at your jacket. 

You watched as Jimin gave Jungkook a reproachful look before he took your ID and started typing. Jimin dropped your ID onto the counter and then handed Jungkook the keycard and a sheet of paper before he leaned close and said, “You get the room for the rest of the day and this card….” Jimin held it up and continued in a severe tone, “It’s a master, so I need it back.”

“You are a lifesaver,” Jungkook said sincerely as he took the card and paper with the rules for using the rooms, “I owe you.”

Jimin’s eyes darted to you before he sat back down and said cockily, “Yeah, you do.”

You tried not to judge people, but it was hard when they were that bitchy. Jungkook started heading toward the room, and as you walked around the desk, you tapped it and said with a grin and venomous tone, “Thanks for all your help, sweetheart.”

Hearing the chair he’d been sitting in move and the frantic whispering, you had to look. You turned around as you walked away and saw Jimin staring daggers at you, and you smiled as he muttered something and sat back down. 

You didn’t know why he didn’t like you, but it didn’t matter. Knowing that you couldn’t do much more than return the same bitchy attitude, this was the extent of your fun, plus being antagonistic to men who didn’t like you was like a drug. It was probably why you had such an instant attraction to Jungkook. He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t mind how rude you could sometimes be, and he never assumed anything. 

Catching up to him, you asked, “How do you pay him back?”

“What?” Jungkook asked before rounding another corner. 

“That guy, how are you paying him back?” you elaborated. 

Jungkook checked the card once he stopped at the room, then dragged it across the black pad next to the door. The red light on the black pad turned green, and there was a click, then he was opening the door as he said, “Don’t worry about it.”

You walked in, placing your backpack on the large table, and realized that you’d gotten a conference room instead of one of the private rooms, “Oh, I’m going to worry. Aren’t these expensive to rent?”

“You need to stop,” Jungkook warned as he took a seat next to you and started to unpack. 

“I won’t,” you said as you unpacked, “Tell me, or you can go a week without my notes.”

Jungkook turned in his chair to look at you, his lips pursed as he raised his eyebrows, “Good luck with the Greek vocab.”

“Why am I being punished?” you ask, nearly shouting in your incredulity. 

“Because you don’t mind your business,” he said, holding a finger up, then added, “And don’t act like one of us needs the other more. This is mutual destruction, bro.”

Sighing, you knew he was right, but you didn’t understand, “I just don’t see why I can’t help pay—”

“Because you don’t have what he wants,” Jungkook cut you off and sounded irritated. He took a deep breath before he said in a gentler tone, “How about a distraction.”

Jungkook ordered you both coffee and snacks from the cafe on campus. They delivered, but it wasn’t as good as the coffee shop you were supposed to be in. You tried to stop him, but he insisted that if you didn’t order something, he would order for you. This was something you didn’t understand about him. It wasn’t like you were destitute. You worked and could afford your own place. Jungkook was the freak that still lived in student housing but acted like he had money to burn; in summation, the math didn’t math. You didn’t even know how to ask for clarification on what his financial standing was, but it didn’t matter. If he wanted to blow his money on food and coffee for you, then you wouldn’t stop him from achieving his lofty goals. 

An hour later and you were barely an inch away from your laptop screen and about to lose your mind. Dramatically you dropped your head to the table and grunted, then asked without lifting your head, “Can you read this?”

You heard some papers shuffling, then felt the heat of Jungkook’s body as he leaned over to look at your laptop. He typed and clicked a few things, sighed, then said, “No one can read that. Who scanned that in?”

Sitting up and frustrated, “Good question… bet I could find them before you.”

Jungkook laughed, then pointed at the screen, “The book is here.”

“So? It’s in the archive, and we aren’t allowed to touch their precious books,” you said. You knew it was at this school, most of the books you needed were here. They were copies or less rare printings, but it was the same reason Jungkook went to this school. 

Holding up the keycard for the room, Jungkook asked, “Or…. we go on a field trip?”

“Shut your fucking whore mouth,” you practically whimpered. You hadn’t missed what Jimin had said. You just didn’t think about actually using it for that. 

Jungkook’s lips were pressed into a hard line before he said, “Rotten people who say mean things don’t get to go to the archive.”

“You tell me what I need to do to get into the archive, and I will do it. I have no shame,” you said, leaning forward and staring into his dark eyes. 

He seemed unsettled by this, but only for a moment before he shook his head and said in a weaker than usual voice, “Don’t make it weird, let’s just go.”

You could barely contain yourself as you and Jungkook snuck into the archive. It wasn’t against any rules for you to go back there, but taking things without permission wasn’t technically allowed or going down there without a chaperone to babysit the books. Neither of you had any intention of stealing. You were legitimately borrowing them and would put them back. No one would know about this, and you were convinced of this as Jungkook found two pairs of white gloves. It had to be a good omen; finally, something was going right today.

Slipping the gloves on, you both split up to grab what you needed. As far as you could tell, the only person on staff right now was being a bitch at the front desk, and when you asked Jungkook, he confirmed this. 

It didn’t take long for you to find what you needed, carefully getting the last book out and making a note of where you got it from on a post-it. As you walked out of the aisle, something fell behind you. You turned on your heel, expecting to see someone. The thud had been so loud that there was no way it had happened accidentally. But there was no one behind you. 

Glancing down, you found a book face down on the ground, not even a foot behind you. You set the rest of the books on a table nearby, then went to make sure that the book that had fallen wasn’t damaged. 

You carefully picked it up and turned it over, immediately knowing that there was something off about this book. The leather was strange. Even with the gloves between your skin and the book, you could feel how rough it was; the weird looping stitches around all the edges only added to the ickiness. The front cover didn’t seem damaged, the corners were fine, and when you cracked it open, the binding all seemed good. Other than it being old and bound in low-quality leather with a thick cord around the edges, the book seemed fine. 

Before you closed it, a word on one of the pages caught your eye. As you opened the book fully to read, you heard Jungkook whisper from a few aisles away, “Let’s go.”

Closing the book and grabbing the others, you quickly jotted down on the same list where the fallen book had come from before catching up to Jungkook. You giggled as you saw the stack he had, and he did the same at the pile in your arms. You both had only needed two books, maybe three if you were ambitious, but you were walking up the stairs and back to the conference room with thirteen books combined. 

Back in the room, you set your books down near your stuff, and even though you knew you should get to work, you couldn’t help yourself. Pulling the last book you’d gotten from the stack, you carefully opened it and started reading. 

Mostly in English, which was a surprise. You figured it had to be some sort of collection, maybe a journal, since it was handwritten. The first few pages had a strange dedication and long poem that you half-read, then you came to the first part. 

Every page had strange illustrations of anatomy and notes, some in English and French. You made it to the second part, and the illustrations were of herbs, flowers, and fungi. The handwriting was similar, but this section was in German. You flipped back and forth to compare the writing, and if it wasn’t the same person writing, then someone went to a lot of effort to mimic the original writer’s handwriting. 

The third section was astrology and in a mixture of Spanish and Swedish, two languages that did not work together well. You continued, finding the fourth section, and you figured out what this book was: a grimoire. 

You chuckled to yourself as you looked at the different recipes, drawings, and instructions, all written in a combination of the previous languages. As interesting as this was, you knew that magic wasn’t real, but the people like whoever made this book were intriguing. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

Glancing up to see if Jungkook was busy, you wanted to share what you’d found with him, but he looked deep in thought. You didn’t want to interrupt him. Back to the grimoire, you flipped another page then your eyes locked on something new. 

At the bottom of the left page, there was a newer note in different ink. Sighing as you realized that it was written in Greek for no good reason. Pulling your gloves off, you did your best to sound it out as you wrote it down on a post-it. Absently you were running your finger along the edge of the page, and as you wrote down the last set of characters, the old paper cut into the pad of your index finger, and you hissed as you pulled your hand away.

Jungkook coughed and startled you as you popped your finger into your mouth. When you looked over at him to ask if he was okay, he looked like he was about to be sick. His arm clutched his lower stomach, and he grunted before he turned to look at you. A pained smile spread across his face as you asked, “You good, bro?”

He shrugged and made a noncommittal noise, then got up and left the room, hunched over and still clutching his lower abdomen. You assumed he must have eaten something he shouldn’t have, or maybe he had IBS. If something had been wrong, he would have said something or asked for help. 

With your copy of the strange note, you started working on translating. The comment Jungkook had made earlier about helping with Greek was not him grasping at straws. Out of everything you tried to study, Greek just didn’t make sense to you like other languages did. 

A knock at the door had you panicking until you heard Jungkook’s muffled voice on the other side, “I forgot the keycard. Let me back in. I miss you.”

You got up, opened the door, and asked, “What happened?”

Jungkook rushed past you and sat down without replying. 

“Alright,” you said to yourself as you went back to your seat. Nudging Jungkook once you sat down, and he nearly toppled out of his chair, you asked again, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, giving you a dirty look before pulling his coat over his lap, “Just.. my stomach. Do you need something?”

The book, you remembered, replying, “Yes,” as you moved closer and grabbed the grimoire. Placing it between the two of you, you tried to ignore how twitchy Jungkook was as you explained what you had found. 

He leaned close, and you heard him inhale deeply, then he said, “It’s probably nothing, doesn’t even look like words—fuuuuuck.”

You froze because the sound Jungkook just made was not even remotely close to pain. He slammed a fist on the table and ducked his head, breathing heavily again, before groaning, “I’m… fuck, fine—ohmygodfuuuuck….”

“Bullshit,” you hissed as you moved away from him. Watching him closely, your mind raced as you asked, “What the fuck is going on?”

Turning away from you slightly, Jungkook moaned again but tried to cover it up with a cough before he did a shitty job of acting like everything was fine, “Nothing, it’s—fuuuuuck—nothing, promise.”

“Do you have a remote-controlled buttplug in or something? Maybe took viagra instead of Adderall?” you offered, knowing full well that Jungkook didn’t take stimulants. It didn’t make any sense why he was acting like this and trying to pretend that he wasn’t moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shutup,” he whined, “And don’t make fun of me.”

“You gonna explain?” you said, hoping he would as much as you just wanted to pretend like none of this happened. 

Jungkook sighed and faced you. He looked exhausted, but his face was flushed, and when his eyes met yours, you gasped; his pupils were blown. Almost panting as he gripped the edge of the table, Jungkook tried to speak but only moaned and doubled over again. 

Whatever was going on with him was serious, and you decided he could have his little meltdown in a safer place than the library. “Fuck this,” you muttered and started gathering your stuff. Quickly packing both your stuff and Jungkook’s while he tried to stifle the moaning, you asked, “How far are the dorms?”

“The… what?” he whimpered. 

“Fuck that too,” you muttered as you pulled out something from your backpack you rarely used. Thankful that you had packed your canvas bag despite not thinking you’d need it, you shoved the books you weren’t supposed to borrow into it. You explained to Jungkook as you scribbled on a note for Jimin at the front desk, “We can go to my apartment, then get an Uber or something once you’re over this.” You didn’t want to scare him by saying ambulance, but that was your first thought. Something was very wrong with him.

He didn’t seem to have any problem getting up and taking his backpack; Jungkook even tried to grab the canvas bag. Shaking your head and letting him shoulder the books, you opened the door for him. 

With a noticeable bulge in his pants, he walked through the doorway with his head down. You rolled your eyes, and before the door closed, you saw the keycard and note for Jimin still on the table. “Fuck me left, right, and center.”

Thankfully you had still been holding the door open, and you were able to walk back inside. Reaching out to grab the card and note, there was a thunderous banging on the door. In a panic, you ran, as much as you could run for only three steps, and yanked the door open to see a very terrified Jungkook. 

Holding up the note and keycard, you said, “Almost forgot these… you need to relax.”

Jungkook gripped your upper arms and pulled you out of the conference room, pushing you up against the wall, saying ominously, “Don’t do that again.”

“Do what? Forget things? Sorry, but it’s a horrible character flaw, and if I could—” 

His hand clamped over your mouth, searching your eyes, and hissed, “Don’t leave me alone.”

This was quickly becoming more serious than you were capable of handling. You nodded, now worried that Jungkook might have finally snapped from all the pressure. As he released you and you started to walk toward the entrance, Jungkook took your hand. You glanced over your shoulder as he laced his fingers between yours, and he seemed okay again. 

You’d heard of people having breakdowns or psychotic episodes, and Jungkook was at the right age for something like schizophrenia or bipolar disorder to start, but it didn’t fit. He wouldn’t be fine for the entire time you knew him, then in a matter of fifteen minutes lose his whole fucking mind. 

Getting to the desk, Jungkook tried to pull you away and out the doors, but you reminded him, “We need to give the card back.”

“I’ll do it,” he said, standing too close and then glancing at Jimin, who was watching the two of you, “I don’t trust him.”

You shrugged, handing him the card and the note, which he read. Then he was dragging you with him and slammed both on the desk as he said in a rush, “Here, we’ll be back later.”

Jungkook continued to pull you along, even though Jimin was standing and yelling something, but you were already out the doors. For a moment, he led the way, and you asked, “You going to be okay in the dorms or…?”

“No,” Jungkook shot back like you’d offended him, “We’re going to your apartment.” He stopped, his hands on your arms again, and he looked like he was about to cry, “You promised.”

Yupp, he’s broken, you thought before you forced a smile and said, “I did, but this isn’t the way to my place.”

Jungkook sighed then smiled at you, “Okay, you should probably lead then.”

“Yeah…” you said, wondering how bad this would get. 

Unlike walking to the library, Jungkook kept your hand in his the entire walk, running his thumb along yours constantly. That spot would probably be sore by the time you got to your apartment, and it was. 

You unlocked the front door, ignoring the mailbox or anything else. During the walk, Jungkook would jerk you away from anyone else who happened to pass. You went ahead of him up the three flights of stairs, then down the hall to your apartment, and that’s when all the adrenaline of helping someone in distress wore off, and the anxiety kicked in. 

As you got your door key isolated and lined up with the deadbolt lock, you realized that you had never had anyone else in your apartment. You took a deep breath, unlocked the door, then let Jungkook in. This wasn’t going to be a big deal, and if something was really wrong, you’d call 911 or something. 

Frustrated that he wouldn’t release your hand, you did your best to lock the door and get your outside stuff off, but it was no use. Irritated, you shook your arm as you said, “Let go for a fucking minute.”

You were free, but it didn’t last as you were slammed against the door a few seconds later. Jungkook was bearing down on you and looked completely unhinged. It was hard to say if he was going to cry or shout at you, maybe take a bite out of your neck; none of these options appealed to you. 

Before he could decide what he was going to do, you started in the kindest voice you could muster, “Sor—I’m sorry, I needed to get my coat and stuff off. It’s okay.”

Cautiously raising your hand and hoping that this would help, you brushed his hair out of his face, and Jungkook seemed to melt into your touch. His lips parted, and his head tilted, then he kissed the heel of your palm before his eyes opened. With a heavy sigh, he whispered, “You aren’t mad at me?”

You said exactly what you were thinking, “What?” Quickly pulling it together, since one of you had to be rational, you added, “I wasn’t mad, just a little frustrated. It’s—what are you doing….”

Jungkook didn’t reply as he continued to kiss your hand. You were too scared at this point to do anything but let it happen as his tongue ran along your index finger. It wasn’t until your backpack fell off your other shoulder and crashed to the floor that either of you was aware of anything else. 

He grinned, looking a little drunk now, as he said, “Show me around. I’ve never seen your place before.”

“No, you promised you’d tell me what was going on,” you lied. He didn’t promise anything, but you hoped that he wouldn’t remember that. 

His brow furrowed as he thought, then his eyes met yours, and he shrugged.

Now you were getting angry, and you took a steadying breath as you explained, “You were fine, totally normal, then you started acting like—”

“I’m not high,” he cut you off, then looked up as he hedged, “I didn’t take anything… I don’t think I’m high.”

“Alright, let’s skip what happened for now,” you said, deciding to help him get his coat and the bags off as you asked, “Can you tell me what’s going on? Are you in pain? Do you feel sick?”

“It comes and goes… I think,” he said as you set his backpack and the canvas bag down, you heard Jungkook chuckle. You glanced up before you started to unzip his jacket while his arms were hanging at his side. When you pushed the coat off his shoulders, he tipped his head forward and rested against your forehead as he sighed, “I feel really good now that you’re taking care of me.”

Guiding his moody ass to the couch, you told him you just needed to grab something, and then you’d be right back. He nodded but got up and followed you as you went to grab the grimoire out of the canvas bag. Jungkook also followed you back to the couch, insisting on sitting as close as possible. 

It didn’t matter. You could look things up on your phone while you flipped through the book until you found that page again. Once you were on it, you didn’t waste time trying to read the note but focused on the rest of the page. 

You didn’t believe in this stuff, but it didn’t seem to matter how many times you thought that since Jungkook was still trying to get even closer. By the time you caved and asked him what he thought, he was sitting behind you with his arms around your waist. If you had had any doubts about what was going on with him, they were obliterated the second he started inching closer to you. 

“Hey, can you read any of this?” you asked, holding the book up and hoping he could focus for even a few minutes. 

You nearly dropped the book as Jungkook spoke he sounded like himself again despite what he was doing, “Yeah, move it a little closer.”

Now that you were waiting for him while he muttered in French, German, Swedish, and Spanish, you were able to process what he was doing. You knew, but you didn’t really pay attention until you didn’t have the book distracting you. 

He had both arms around your chest, one pushing up under your breasts, so they were resting on his forearm as he continued to squirm behind you. Jungkook’s front was flush against your back, his legs bracketing your own like you were both on a motorcycle, but you were the one driving. You knew what that was being pressed against your ass, but you didn’t want to think about that. You shouldn’t think about it, but you could feel his heartbeat pulsing from the bulge digging into your ass despite both of you wearing jeans.

Mercifully, Jungkook chuckled, and that got you out of your head. He rested his chin on your shoulder as he said cheerily, “That’s cute. Where’d you find it?”

“What’s cute about it?” you asked, desperate for any information. 

“It’s a bunch of dirty words,” Jungkook replied. The arm that had been a shelf for your tits started moving, “I think it’s cute.”

If you had the ability to be honest with yourself, the attention he had been showing was exactly what you had wanted, but these were not the right circumstances. Good thing you weren’t going to be honest with yourself… yet. 

As his hand cupped your breast, you laughed awkwardly and stood. Turning and taking a step back, you held a hand up and said in a too friendly voice, “You need some water.”

You didn’t turn around as you backed away from him, worried he might do something drastic again. Barely ten feet away from him, so close to the kitchen and a moment to yourself to think, you watched as Jungkook’s dopey smile and dewy eyes seemed to lose focus, then he clutched his stomach and howled in agony. 

Back at his side, water and that moment to think forgotten, you did your best to get him to sit up and realized too late where you wound up. On your knees between his legs, both your hands holding his face as you were about to ask where the pain was when you noticed he had relaxed. An awful idea popped into your head, but you couldn’t do it without telling Jungkook. 

Getting him to look at you was hard, he seemed dazed but made eye contact and smiled at you. You smiled back, then said, “Hey, there you are. I want to try something.”

“Yeah?” he asked dreamily. 

“Stay calm, and if you let me do this, you can have whatever you want,” you said, then felt your stomach clench. You spoke without thinking, but it was too late, and you needed answers more than dignity. 

Jungkook’s arms were around you and pulling you close as he practically purred, “You can do whatever you want, then my turn.”

“Okay, cool,” you said, feeling genuine panic as you tried to get out of the death grip he had on you. Finally, on your feet, as he looks up at you, you instruct, “Stay on the couch and let me know if it starts to hurt. Okay?”

Nodding up at you, you start backing away. You wait after each step, and instead of making it to the kitchen this time, you barely make it four steps before he winces. Closing the distance but still standing, Jungkook wraps his arms around your legs as the pieces start falling into place in your head. 

Jungkook sniffles and asks in a weak voice, “This game is shit. Is it my turn yet?”

You sigh because you need more information, and the only time he has seemed like himself was in a compromising position. Tilting his head back, you say, “Lean back. I’m almost done.”

He does as you ask, and you reluctantly climb onto his lap. His arms are around you, and he’s pulling you as close as possible, that now familiar bulge against your inner thigh. With his head pressed against your chest, you try to reach for the book. Hoping that you were right about this, you ask, “Can you try to read again?”

Jungkook nods against your chest and turns to the side you have the book. His hands that were on your sides start to move lower as his breathing evens out, and in a very calm voice, he asks, “What happened?”

“Trying to figure that out,” you offer, moving the book closer, “Any of this make any sense?”

“Not really,” he says, then he sits up and tries to take the book, “Ugggh.”

His face buried between your covered breasts and his hands on your ass, you give him a few minutes to recover. You could read enough of what the page said to know that it was basically a jumbled mess of obscenity, but that didn’t mean the note in the margin was related to it. None of that seemed to matter at this point. 

With one arm around him, holding him against you so that you could get the book out of reach. You leaned into him and cradled his head as you resigned yourself to this. It seemed that the closer you got, the closer you had to stay. 

You didn’t panic as you felt his hand sliding around your ass to between your legs. Feeling him there under these circumstances didn’t feel good. Running your fingers through his hair as he ran his along your jean-covered sex, you whispered, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Jungkook sighed, “Liar.”

You laughed, but it was lifeless, then you asked, “Are you you again?”

“For now,” he said as his other hand went between your legs. 

You took a deep breath before you said, “We can figure it out later.”

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’m so sorry… I need more.”

With his arms out of the way, you were able to pull your sweater off and drop it behind you. Jungkook moaned as one of his hands abandoned its efforts of burrowing into your jeans and grabbed one of your breasts roughly. This allowed him to look up at you, and his expression was tortured. 

You tried to smile but failed as you said weakly, “Only way out is through?”

“Ew, don’t drag Robert Frost into this,” he joked before his hand flipped the cup of your bra under, “Fuck, I’m really sorry.”

He pinched your nipple, which you couldn’t help reacting to, but you knew that you couldn’t keep going like this. Reaching behind, you unhooked your bra as you said, “No more apologizing. It’s making this really weird.”

The bra joined your sweater, and both of Jungkook’s hands were palming your breasts. He nodded but said, “I’ll make this up to you, I promise.” 

Closing your eyes, you gave in. If this was what had to be done, then you were going to enjoy it. You opened your eyes and searched Jungkook’s as you cupped his cheeks before you said, “Just make me cum, and we’re even.”

His eyes went wide for a moment, then the corner of his mouth twitched. You had a few seconds to appreciate this stunned look before he flipped you onto your back and was jerking at your jeans. When you tried to help him with the zipper, he swatted your hand away but was grinning. 

Even as he pulled your pants off and tossed them over his shoulder, he wasn’t in any pain. As long as he wasn’t hurting, you could maybe enjoy this. Knowing that for at least a little while, you’d be able to talk to him, the real him, you wouldn’t have any reason to feel bad. This still felt like you were taking advantage of the situation, but that was easier to ignore with him actively participating. 

Your jeans had hit the window in Jungkook’s excitement, but nothing was broken. They just made a sound as the button hit the window and startled you. As soon as you were down to just your panties and socks, he laid next to you with your legs draped over his now tilted lap. With one of his arms under you, his hand quickly found the back of your neck, while the other was ghosting over your skin. As he spoke, he traced your collarbone then down the center of your chest, “Guess we’ve never had the conversation, but….”

His voice trailed off as his fingers went lower, barely touching you as he reached the waistband of your panties. Jungkook was watching his hand as he spread your legs while he finished, “... do you have a boyfriend? I don’t even know if you like guys.”

The giggle that left your lips was half out of amusement at what he said, and the other half was pure nervous energy. His fingertips barely touched your inner thighs as they moved closer and closer; you did your best to explain, “I’m single.”

Jungkook faced you and looked confused, “Really?”

“Why would I lie about that right now?” you blurt, then moan as he finally touches you. Your jeans had been enough protection to ignore what he had been doing before, but you could feel everything now. 

When you were able to focus on him again, he was smirking and said, “I don’t think I need to worry about making you cum.”

You bit your lip as he continued to delicately run just the tips of his fingers along your sex, but it didn’t help. You started to move your hips to get more, and then he ducked his head. Spreading your legs wider as he swirled his tongue around a nipple, you said in a breathy voice, “I thought you were dying.”

Feeling his breath fanning out against your skin as he spoke, you barely registered what he said, “We could stop and test that theory.”

“Smartass,” you whimpered. 

Jungkook adjusted, propping himself up on the arm that had been under you, and asked, “Can I try something?”

“We are trying a lot right now,” you pointed out, but when he continued to tease you, you shrugged, “But go ahead.”

Grinning as his eyes went dark, the hand that had been between your legs was now gripping the crotch of your panties, then jerked up. You yelped as you were suddenly and violently relieved of your underwear. The same hand was now between your legs and flush against your sex. 

Jungkook’s head dropped to your shoulder as he said, “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“It’s cool,” you say, sounding distinctly not cool, “You can’t help it.”

He sighed and lifted his head, “I could have just taken them off. That way seemed more fun.”

You were stunned. Jungkook kept talking, but you weren’t hearing him. All you could think about was him trying to have fun at a time like this. You were completely naked, except for socks, but they don’t count, and he was touching—no, he was holding your pussy in an oddly intimate way and trying to make this fun. 

“You okay?” he asked, but all you really registered was his middle finger starting to move. 

Nodding, you licked your lips which were too dry, and said, “Yeah, fun, sure.”

“Fuuuuck,” Jungkook groaned, and you felt his body convulse next to you before he pushed his middle finger inside you. He took a deep breath as he slowly relaxed, he asked in a panic, “You’ve had sex, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied and realized that you had both hoped that this would be enough. Finally, just giving in to the inevitable, you said with more confidence than you had, “No worries. Keep going.”

He lifted his head to look at you, his face reflecting your own, and that there were many worries, but you couldn’t stand seeing him in pain again. Each time it happened, it seemed to be worse, like he’d just been shot or stabbed in the gut. 

Getting one leg propped on the back of the couch, you raised your hips and whispered, “Please… keep going.”

Jungkook still seemed unsure, but he pulled his hand back and slipped another finger inside you. Already this was more action than you’d had in a while, and it was with someone who you had only dreamed about doing this with, which only made it worse. Before you could spiral down the tunnel of ‘why like this’, you realized your eyes were closed. 

Opening them to see Jungkook’s half-lidded eyes locked on your face was overwhelming. With his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, it was so much better than your imagination could ever muster. 

“This okay?” he asked his voice barely above a whisper. 

You thought for a moment, knowing that he was asking if you were okay and not if what he was doing to you was satisfactory. Deciding to not be completely delusional about the situation, you said, “Yeah…” but then you added, “Very okay. You aren’t gonna break me.”

The half-smile on his face was smug as he pulled his fingers out and used them to circle your clit. You moaned and arched your back as he said under his breath, “Wow….”

You were immediately self-conscious, but he hadn’t stopped. His slick fingers sliding over your clit felt so good, better than your own ever had. You were getting close, but before you could tell him, he filled you again, this time with three fingers. 

Breathing hard, you searched his eyes as he asked, “You like it?”

Scared to speak, you nodded. You didn’t trust your mouth anymore and for good reason. While you nodded, you wanted to tell him that you loved how his fingers felt inside you, that you wanted to cum on them and then suck them clean. Now was not the time for that. 

Jungkook repositioned, able to fuck you with his fingers while he circled your clit with his thumb. He was watching you intently now, and as you were fighting back the urge to tell him the innumerable indecent things that were running through your head, you remembered why this was happening. 

“More,” was all you could get out at first. 

Tilting his head, Jungkook asked, “I mean, fisting could be—”

“No, shithead, you need to do more,” you cut him off and saw the panic flash across his face. 

Jungkook sat up, and you were on your knees, pulling at his shirt. This was more for you, but not your weird crush on him. You didn’t want to be the only one naked, plus seeing him shirtless would be fun. He was having fun, why couldn’t you?

“Goddamn,” you said in awe once Jungkook’s shirt was gone but got back on track. As you were sinking to the floor, you said, “Pretty sure as long as we keep…. going, you’ll be okay.”

You started to unbutton his jeans when his hands were on covering yours. Glaring up at him, you asked, “What?”

“I just….” his words faltered, and he couldn’t look at you. 

Your shoulders dropped, and you knew that it wouldn’t be long before he was racked with pain again. Dire situations required drastic measures, so you grabbed the bulge in his jeans and said, “You were contemplating fisting me like a minute ago. Now is not the time to be coy.”

He looked scared again and nodded, then said in a weak voice, “I was thinking we could do something else….”

Already panicking that he would start screaming in agony any second now, you didn’t have time to process his request and agreed, “Sure, what do you want to do?”

Jungkook’s eyes dropped to between your legs for a split second before he started to speak, but you didn’t have time for it. Back on his lap, you took one of his hands and placed it between your legs while you tried to get his jeans opened. 

You dared a glance up at him as you said, “I don’t know how aware you’ve been, but if you wait too long you are going to be sorry.”

“It’s hard to think,” he said, and you panicked. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, then asked, knowing he’d already be a little loopy from how things had been going, “What do you want to do to me, Jungkook?”

That dopey smile was back as he replied, “Taste you.”

You took the hand from between your legs, isolated one of his fingers, and sucked on it. His eyelids fluttered, then he was back. Beyond a point of checking to see who wanted to do what or what was okay, you asked, “How bad do you want to go down on me?”

Seeing the confusion shift so dramatically to lust on Jungkook’s face was all you needed to die happy. You cocked an eyebrow before you leaned close, running your tongue along the shell of his ear before you whispered, “Make me cum.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as he pushed you onto your back, then you realized he was between your legs and shirtless, and the thing that had stunned you when he first took his shirt off was all you could see. You had had an idea that he was in at least decent shape, and you wouldn’t have cared if it was better than that, but that’s not what caught your attention: Jungkook was covered in tattoos. 

Seeing the ones on his arms had only cemented the idea that he wasn’t attainable, and that had been okay. Now that you could clearly see the extent of them along with his piercings, you knew that this was going to be the only time you got to see them. Assuming you both survived whatever was going on. 

As he craned his neck to look up at you, it was almost more than you could handle, then he grinned and lowered his head. Jungkook pressed his lips between your breasts before he started moving lower. It was hard to focus on any one thing. The way his shoulders and arms flexed, the tattoos, his eyes, it was all too much. 

Placing his hands on your thighs and gently pushing them open, he was still maintaining eye contact with you as he asked, “You okay?”

And like that, you were back in the moment and reminded of what you were supposed to be doing. You shook your head to attempt to clear your thoughts, then said, “You’re talking too much.”

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow, then hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you close, “So are you.” Then he ran his tongue from your entrance to your clit and back again. 

With one hand gripping the couch, the other was on the back of Jungkook’s head. You watched as he smirked before flicking his tongue back and forth over your clit, and you couldn’t stop yourself, “Cute, too bad I still haven’t cum yet.”

He growled. Jungkook growled between your legs. You could have been the one cursed and dropped dead in as much pain as there was and still die with a smile on your face after that. It was impossible to know, but every time before this, when he’d gone a bit further, he had a moment of lucidity. Your heart ached at the thought that the real him had done that. 

His open-mouthed kissing was sweet, and it felt nice, but it wasn’t going to do what he set out for, and you didn’t want him to fail. That would only add insult to injury. You took a few deep breaths as you stared up at your ceiling, then lifted your head and unleashed, “Fill my cunt and focus on my clit with that pretty mouth or quit wasting my time.” 

“Sonuvabitch,” Jungkook muttered against your pussy. He stared up at you for a moment before he smirked, then did as you instructed. 

Feeling him work three fingers inside you like he had before had you moaning, “Fuck, just like that.”

He isolated your clit with his lips as he rolled his tongue back and forth over it, and you could hear him moaning. Despite how good this felt, you still had an annoying pang of worry that this wouldn’t be enough. Just in case, you said as clearly as you could, “Play with my ass.”

Jungkook sighed, and you felt his hand twist and saw his elbow sticking out from under your thigh as you felt pressure on your asshole. Weaving your fingers into his hair, you focused on keeping your legs open as he pushed you over the edge. Your back arched, and you felt the unfamiliar sensation of someone else making you cum as Jungkook slowly pushed his thumb into your ass. 

You relaxed as you felt your heart racing. Jungkook hadn’t stopped, simply slowed what he was doing. Lifting his head, he said, “You’re going to need more than one to make us even.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, scared of what he might say. 

His face fell, and you knew you had to keep going. Sitting up and lifting his head by the chin, you said, “How about I show you what I can do with my mouth.”

He seemed genuinely conflicted, and that would give you even more to cherish once this was over. You snapped your fingers, “Not to be rude, but I don’t think getting me off is going to fix this.”

Jungkook was still not speaking, and you knew that it wouldn’t be long. This constant desperation was starting to get to you, and you said, “You go down on me, and that’s fine, but I can’t reciprocate. That doesn’t make sense.”

“This isn’t how this is supposed to happen!” Jungkook shouted before slapping a hand that still had your cum on it over his mouth. 

You blinked a few times before scooting back on the couch. Now you needed to verify that whatever had been hurting him was real. What he’d just said that had both of you spooked confirmed it, but something about this seemed off. It was like he was hiding something, but that didn’t make sense either. 

As soon as Jungkook sat, he doubled over and collapsed on the floor. His face was frozen in a silent scream, and every muscle in his body was rigid and spasming. Had you not seen it yourself, you wouldn’t have believed it. 

Shoving at the table that was in the way, you got on top of him and jerked at his jeans until they were past his thighs. Pulling them off and dropping them, Jungkook understood and was pushing his boxer briefs down. You took them too, then got on top of him. 

His cock sandwiched between his stomach and your cunt, Jungkook sighed and rubbed his eyes as he tried to catch his breath and calm down. You gave him as much time as you could to pull himself together before you started to move. 

Dropping his arms, he chuckled weakly before looking at you, “I’m gonna die.”

“I have a plan,” you said, grinding against him, “But you need to trust me.”

He nodded, “Of course, whatever you need.”

Cumming made it a little easier to think, but this was still distracting; as dire as it was, you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t look at him as you spoke, needing to focus on what your hips were doing as you explained, “In a few minutes, we will need to switch again. I need you to read this note in the book and see if you can figure it out while… you… um… fuckmefrombehind.”

You rushed the last part, but he still heard you and asked, “What?”

“Read the book while you fuck me,” you said before pinching one of his nipples, “You’re the language nerd, fucking do it.”

Jungkook didn’t react to what you’d done other than grin and said in the same dreamy voice you were starting to fear, “You’re hot when your mean.”

“Fuck,” you hissed, panicking that it was already too late. 

His hands were on your hips, and he was laughing, “I’m fine, sorry, it was just me.”

Tilting your head, you asked, “What do you mean ‘it was just you’?”

“You’re hot when your mean,” he said sheepishly before adding, “And if you pinch me again….” Jungkook slapped your ass and winked at you as he finished, “... well, you’d have to be stupid enough to do it again to find out.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you asked, irritated that he had the audacity to do this bullshit flirting at a time like this. You were pretty sure you had done something to start this, but he thought now was a good time for this. When all he did was shrug and guide your hips, you took a deep breath, “Anyway… you good with the plan?”

“Not a fan of the position,” he said, then quickly added, “But yeah, reading while… yeah, sounds like… fun?”

Rolling your eyes, you stood and got off him to get in position next to the table with the book still open to the right page. That had to be a miracle. Before you could get to your knees, he grabbed your arm. Jungkook was on his feet too and turned you to face him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sighed as you looked into the glazed eyes of curse-riddled Jungkook. 

He pulled you closer and growled, “Mine.”

Automatically you tried to jerk your arm away, and he snapped. His hand curled into a fist at the back of your head as he walked you back until you were up against the wall. Lifting one of your legs as he muttered, “Mine… only mine….” Then he filled you in one thrust. 

You almost fell as Jungkook regained control, stuck balancing on one leg, as he said, “This doesn’t feel like the plan.”

“It isn’t!” you shouted. 

“Fuck,” he whispered before asking, “What happened?”

You let your head fall back against the wall as you explained, “Same bullshit that has been happening every fifteen minutes, sometimes less.”

“Fuuuck,” he moaned, and you felt him roll his hips. 

“Don’t you dare get distracted,” you warned, but it was too late. 

As he pulled out, you were lost too. This was something you hadn’t experienced in longer than you cared to think about, and only a few times at that. Any previous sexual encounter you had seemed laughable as Jungkook pulled out until just the head of his cock was still inside you. 

“You are so wet,” he said, sounding impressed before he asked, “I haven’t been too rough or anything?”

“No,” you said, hoping you didn’t sound as desperate as you felt. 

Slowly filling you again, then grinding against you, he moaned your name. You covered your face with your hands, fully freaking out and trying not to fall apart. You’d been through too much at this point to have that break you. 

Yelping when you felt him shift, your hands flew to his shoulders, and you stared into his eyes as he lifted your other leg. He leaned close then, resting his forehead against yours as he said between panting breaths, “I think… I have… a plan.”

All you could do was nod before he pulled back and thrust into you, his mouth dropping open as he moaned loudly. In a rush, you asked, “What’syourplan?”

Pulling back again, he shrugged before bottoming out, then said in a ragged voice, “Grab the book.”

It was at that point you realized he was getting to his knees. Panicked and getting fucked was not the best combination, but you were able to lean and grab the book. Righting yourself, with your finger sandwiched between the pages, you held it against your chest, “What nex…fuuuuuck.”

He had your legs hooked over his forearms, and his hands were holding you up and cupping your ass. Instead of letting you speak or continuing with his plan, Jungkook started to lazily thrust. You clutched the book to your chest as you could barely remember that you couldn’t drop it, let alone not lose the spot you were marking with only a finger. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, “I can focus, I promise.”

“Good for you,” you panted, then checked the book before asking, “What’s next?”

Jungkook smiled at you and asked, “You want the good news or bad news?”

“If you do that whispering bullshit again, I will leave you here to die,” you threatened, even though both of you knew that you hadn’t meant it. 

Chuckling as he dropped his head back and then took a deep breath, he muttered, “This isn’t how….” You couldn’t hear the rest of what he had said to himself before he lifted his head and glanced down. He rolled his hips, sighed, and said, “I’m going to carry you to your bed.”

All you did was look at him suspiciously, and he added, “Place the book by your head, and I can do what I need to so I can read, duh.” A final thrust, and he was asking, “Ready?”

“I could just stand up—ohmygod!” you shouted as he stood and tossed you slightly in his arms to adjust his hold, and you clamped your free hand around his neck. Being thrown around like this was alarming under normal circumstances, and you knew that you had to show how you felt on your face as he grinned at you. 

With the book pressed between your bodies, he chuckled, “Want to see something cool?”

Before you could reply, he moved you instead of his hips, then let yours fall back against him. You ducked your head and started cursing under your breath as he laughed, “Told you it was cool. Where’s your room?”

“How are you fine?!” you shout into his chest. 

All you got was a shrug as he started to walk like he wasn’t carrying you. Too much impossible shit had happened today, and you didn’t know if you were ever going to recover from it as he walked down the hall and opened a door, “Nope, bathroom.”

“Across the hall,” you offer, defeated. 

Opening your bedroom door, you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed that you’d left your vibrator on your bed. That had been your reason for being late in the first place. Being around Jungkook was always easier if you released any excess energy. 

As Jungkook knelt on your bed, he bent at the waist to gently lower you, then said, “This could come in handy.” Holding your vibrator and waving it at you, “Thoughts?”

“Read!” you yelled, then realized you weren’t actually being the one affected by some weird sex curse. You felt awful as his face fell, but before you could say anything, he doubled over again.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, his body curling over yours. 

Panic hit you because he was balls deep at this point, and it wasn’t enough. Realizing you could fix everything else later, you wrapped your arms around him and tried to move as you said, “Fuck me…. Jungkook, c’mon, fuck me.”

His hips stuttered then he started to move. A few seconds later and he was panting as the muscles in his body started to relax, and he asked, “Where’s the book?”

Propping himself up on his elbows as you opened the book and set it next to your head, all the while his hips snapped. You were torn between watching his face as he read and what he was doing between your legs. 

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. 

You were confused, “What?”

He flipped the book closed, planting his hands next to your shoulders before shouting, “Fuck!”

“Tell me. I can help—”

His fist landed a few inches from you, then again as he continued to shout, “Fuck! Fuck! No!”

Without a thought, you grabbed his face and pulled him down. Your lips against his, neither of you moved for a moment before he pulled away. His lips were barely an inch from yours, and as much as you didn’t want to, you couldn’t keep doing this without at least telling him how you felt. If he was really going to die, then he needed to know that he hadn’t made you do anything. 

Your face contorted, eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw stars, and you whispered, “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, I promise.”

“Don’t,” Jungkook whimpered. 

You pressed on, “I like you so much, it fucking hurts.”

Jungkook stilled but didn’t pull away, he didn’t breathe, and you kept going as tears started to escape, “This is my fault. I’m so sorry, I read something, and it did this to you because of my stupid feelings.”

“Wait—what?” he asked, but you couldn’t look. 

“I can’t read that shit,” you babbled, wishing you could cover your face, “And neither can you, and your gonna die, and it’s all my fault—hmph!”

Your eyes snap open as Jungkook kisses you and thrusts deep into you. To say you are confused, disoriented, and even thoroughly bamboozled wouldn’t fully encompass what you were feeling. 

Lifting himself and searching your eyes, Jungkook asked, “You really mean that?”

“Which part?” you ask as you study his face. 

“You like me so much it hurts?” he explained as a smug smile spread across his face. When all you did was glare at him, he gathered your wrists and pinned them above your head, “You are going to be mad—” You started to shout, but he was able to keep your arms pinned with one hand while the other covered your mouth, and he continued, “Yeah, I know, but if you actually read that, then this was totally your fault.”

You had never been that pissed before as you bellowed from under his hand, “What?!”

“Uh, yeah, So I read that the first time you showed me,” he said, thrusting randomly as he spoke, “Back in the library.”

All you could do was glare at him, and he kept talking, “I didn’t think it was real. I thought it was my appendix or something, but… you’re gonna be so mad.”

You were struggling under him, but he had you completely immobilized. Leaning close as he shushed you, he said in an apologetic tone, “I’ll tell you, but you gotta not be mad. You didn’t believe this shit either, remember?”

Breathing hard, you tried to think, and it was really hard because he was still fucking you, albeit poorly at this point. You knew that he was right, but he should have told you he had read it long before this. Nodding, you hoped that he would actually explain, but you planned to act like everything was fine regardless. Because if he didn’t explain, you were going to take this out on him with your bedroom hammer (a hammer kept at the bedside in case of intruders, totally normal).

“Calm?” he asked hopefully. You muttered behind his hand, and slowly he pulled it away, “Didn’t understand you, sorry.”

“I am as calm as I can be,” you said in a brittle voice, trying to keep it together, “Now explain why you didn’t say anything sooner. Now.”

“Right,” he said, wincing as he rolled his hips, “So…. the thing you read is a curse.” You jerked your arms when he didn’t continue, and in his panic, he blurted, “I had to confess!”

You froze under him as your mind reeled. Seeing that you appeared calm, he continued, “And you said all that, so I wanted to ask if you were serious or if it was just because I might die….”

“Let go of my wrists and find out how serious I am, Jungkook,” your voice was eerily calm. 

Both his hands on your wrists, Jungkook shook his head, “Nope, I like you too, probably liked you for longer.” Then he let out a weird laugh that sounded almost like a bark and said, “Not cursed anymore….” his voice trailed off as you clenched your jaw, and he finished weakly, “Yay….”

“Fuuuuuuck,” he groaned, collapsing on top of you and releasing your wrists. 

You felt bad, but for the first few seconds, you thought he deserved it. Instead of gloating while he spasmed on top of you, you offered, “You sure you confessed? Because if you had, this wouldn’t be happening to you right now.”

Jungkook took a gulping breath before his hands were cupping your cheeks, and he gasped, “I love you,” then collapsed on top of you with a satisfying groan. 

Blinking at your bedroom ceiling, you wondered if he was dead. Yeah, he was breathing and making little noises, plus his dick was twitching every few seconds inside you, but he could be dead. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged. As mad as you had been, that last burst of pain from the curse had satisfied the righteous indignation that had been taking over your mind. Patting him on the back, you said, “So… you wanna watch Detective Pokemon or….”

“Sleeeeeep,” his voice came from next to you. 

Then, as if the day couldn’t get any fucking worse, you were gripped with a new panic. Scrambling to get out from under Jugnkook and get dressed, you checked the time and hoped you’d be able to make it back in time. 

Jungkook had flopped onto his side but had started to push himself up as he asked, “What’s wro—”

“The books!” you shouted before you ran out of the room. 

His eyes went wide. The only thing worse than dying from some curse was stealing from the library. Grabbing the book next to him, he shouted, “Wait! You forgot one, and I can call Jimin! How are you so fast?!”

“You can call him?” you asked, your jacket half on as Jungkook walked out of your room naked.

Nodding, Jungkook grabbed his phone out of his jeans on the floor, “Shit, he is not happy.” He put his phone to his face and smiled at you, “Let’s get dinner after.”

Glaring at him, he turned away as he started to talk to Jimin. It would take you a while to get over this, but like everything else between you and Jungkook was like he said: mutual destruction. It wouldn’t make sense if being together was easy and wouldn’t be as much fun.

kiss me and take off your clothes (M)

Note: Bury a friend 3 is still in beta and all of my Hyung line fics are still in draft but I really wanted to post ??? Jungkook sweetie I’m so sorry.

My first attempt at smut so be gentle on me 😔 I’ve always wanted to write an 8th!member reader but not like this partners, lemme know if y’all want more 8th!M Reader.

Pairing: Platonic Jungkook/8thM!Reader, implied Taehyung/Reader, Reader is honestly a slut for ot7 if you squint,

Tags: implied romantic interest, mutual pining, switch!Jungkook, fairly vanilla, slightly kinky towards the end but nothing extreme

Plot: In which Jungkook, the last person you ever expected to be in your bedroom late at night, gives an even more shocking request.

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Keep reading

Oof. Love this story. It’s really building in drama and suspense. I have so many questions, some theories, but I love the world building. Very cool.

Bedeviled | Chapter 3: Descent

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female!reader

Genre: E2L, drama, romance, angst, horror

WC: 7.2k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, blood, brief mention of creepy crawlies, anxiety, depictions of Hell and people in it, possibly disturbing scenes, mentions of betrayal and manipulation, despair, possible lilapsophobia trigger, i think that’s it pls kindly let me know if there’s something i should add here.

Previous

You take another step back from the crater, in fear that you might accidentally throw yourself off the edge in a sudden burst of insanity. 

Gulping, you continue to back away until you can’t see into the seemingly bottomless pit. 

He continues to stand there, looking down as if he’s in some sort of trance. 

“Hey,” Your voice is weak, “Let’s go.”

JK turns to see you wringing your hands and a chuckle slips past his lips, “Scared already? We haven’t even gone in.”

Your eyes fall to the ground, not wanting to expose the anxiety consuming you. 

A moment passes before he rolls his eyes at your silence and walks towards the miniature arch, carelessly kicking the stones as he passes them. 

“Are you coming or not?” He snaps when you make no move to follow. 

Keep reading

Holy hell 😳. That was… wow. I am not the same that I was before I read this. Sooooooo many emotions and feelings 😭. Unbelievable.

↳ Index [Day 20 - Gunplay]

Pairing: Gangster!Jungkook x f.Reader

Kinks: Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, arranged marriage, gunplay, oral to a gun, big cock, praise, body worship, nippleplay, strength kink, size kink, tattoos & piercings, thigh riding, spanking, dirty talk, sexy possessiveness, multiple orgasms (f.&m. recieving), creampies, squirting, overstimulation, rough & passionate sex in front a window, she rides him, the trope of “this is the first night where the sex feels real and not like a marital duty”

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel…feelings. too many of them. most of carnal nature. some of deeply emotional nature. this story did too many things to me, holy fuck i need air. besties, Kinktober hits different because we can be totally unhinged together and i am loving the adventure ❤

You fucked up. You are aware that you did. Five men are dead, slaughtered because you trusted the wrong person. Seven barely escaped death and the rest were either hurt or pissed. 

Taehyung’s with you, cleaning the cut on your cheek a broken bottle left. You think someone threw it at you, but you blacked out before you could see who did it. 

“Hurts”, you groan. 

“I know, sorry. It must be done”, Taehyung answers you, replacing the blood soaked cotton swap with a new one. Soaked in disinfectant, he presses it against your wound, eliciting another hiss of discomfort from you.

“So what are we gonna tell him?” Jimin asks the question the rest of the group was too afraid to ask. 

“The truth, what else?” Namjoon says dryly, fingers busy with stopping the bleeding on his arm by pressing a cloth to it.

“Yeah and risk her getting shot? Nah thanks”, Seokjin says, shaking his head. 

“People died”, Namjoon hisses, eyes lowered in anger, “Yoongi’s still out and guess shit about how Hoseok’s surgery is going.” 

“She didn’t shoot them did she?”

“She could have very well pulled the fucking trigger.”

You avoid looking at Namjoon, knowing very well that he would probably kill you with just a look if he could. You understand him. You’re angry at yourself as well. You weren’t careful enough and let the details of the meeting meet the wrong people, ending in the cops busting you in the middle of the deal. 

“Where is she?!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts through the air like thunder.

Keep reading

Oh my god…😳

The absolute poetry of this story! It’s gorgeous. So so gorgeous. Being a non Korean like this y/n I can really appreciate the perspective of her character and can really dive into this story more readily. And then it has so much heart and soul that it makes you want to cry. The intimacy was golden and just right…just correct and all it should be for a story like this. Everything down to the miming a conversation with the zodiac figurines was just so methodically and perfectly real feeling. It was transporting and beautiful. What a brilliant read. Jesus.

Across a Crowded Room

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Strangers-to-lovers, idolverse, smut

Word count: 10.7k

Content: alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, I guess slight exhibitionism since it all happens up against a window lmao

Summary: Dissatisfied and uncomfortable at a party where you don't belong, in a country where you feel like you don't belong, you see a man looking at you from across the room. Maybe he's what you've been missing.

A/N: so, 80% of this was actually written like, a year ago and then abandoned and then I remembered it a few weeks ago and was like, hey! maybe do something with that! And I toyed with the idea of making it into a series for approximately 1 second lmao. Then I decided to just throw some sex in it and call it a day, so uh, here you go 😂😂 this has also not been read back all that closely, so please forgive any errors, I'm just lazy and impatient whoops

-------------------

You tug self-consciously at the hem of your dress; it’s a little too short for your liking, but Hanjae likes you in K-style clothes and, once you’re there, it’ll be fine. It’s always a little nerve-wracking the thought of going to a party where you hardly know anyone, but it always turns out fine. Fun, even. Positive thinking. You sigh and inhale deeply before leaving your apartment and heading down to the car he’s sent for you.

When you first met, you were both taken with each other. He was intrigued by your foreignness and enchanted by your clumsy negotiations in a foreign culture; you were reassured by his confidence and excited by the access he had to hitherto hidden worlds of luxury and indulgence. He wasn’t rolling with Elon Musk or anything (and you’d have had nothing to do with him if he were), but he lived with an ease and security that you yearned for. Which, you suppose, is why you’re still letting him parade you around at parties like this.

It was fun at first. You liked the attention – who wouldn’t? Instead of feeling freakish and out of place, you felt interesting and cherished for your differences. You felt like they were laughing with you when you told funny, embarrassing stories of when you’d got it wrong, or how you do things back home. It felt like people were fascinated by you and you were warmed by their curiosity. You didn’t mind when they reached out to touch your tattoos or asked personal questions, because they didn’t mean any harm. Hanjae gave you a social life that you hadn’t quite managed to create for yourself in this new place and got you out of your apartment, out of your comfort zone, and you clung to that.

Recently, though, you’ve been feeling different. When you show up to parties with him and see his friends you’ve met before, they’re surprised you’re still around. They joke to your face that they would’ve expected Hanjae to have moved on by now. They ask what his parents think (but you have never been introduced to them). They’re not so charmed by you anymore. These friends barely spare you a second thought once they’ve registered their surprise and the attentions of new friends aren’t as welcome as they once were. You started feeling uncomfortable with the way Hanjae paraded you around a couple of weeks ago and now, you’re frankly sick to your stomach. When people reach out to touch you, you flinch away; you don’t tell funny, embarrassing stories because you feel like you’re being laughed at; you stay quiet, for the most part, because your Korean is still not very good and, when they correct you or laugh at your mistakes, you don’t feel like they’re doing it kindly. Standing, mute, next to Hanjae while he laughs and drinks makes you feel like an object, a trophy, an oddity. If Hanjae were a Victorian-era Englishman travelling to the ends of the Earth to ransack a foreign place and bring home stolen goods, you were the buried necklace of an Aztec noblewoman he would give to the eligible girl in the manor house whose hand he is trying to win. He is showing you off because other people are impressed, but you no longer get the feeling that he is.

You hand over your phone and lip balm to Hanjae when you meet him outside the venue; this became a habit early on, so you wouldn’t have to hold a bag and he was happy to keep them in his pockets. Now, it feels a little bit like handing over your freedom.

You walk into the party amongst a sea of black suits. You scan the crowd, looking for other women you can compare your outfit to. A terrible thing to do, you know, but your insecurity needs reassurance that you’re dressed appropriately for this event. Hanjae is already leading you over to his friends, two of whom have brought their girlfriends, who are dressed in outfits similar to yours, so that’s something at least. You greet them brightly and Hanjae hands you a drink before launching into a conversation you can’t quite follow. That’s the other thing about these parties; they’re so loud, even if everyone were speaking English, you’re not sure you’d be able to hear them properly, so you hardly stand a chance in Korean. You’ve improved dramatically and can get by in your day-to-day life, but you don’t feel like you’re good enough yet to have a proper conversation, to really talk to anyone. It’s quite a lonely feeling and another reason you’ve spent so much time with Hanjae: he speaks fluent English; although he uses it less and less often these days and he gets more impatient when you need things repeating. You suppose it must be difficult for him, too, having to use a second language so much.

“Cheer up!” he says as you lean back in your seat. “This’ll be fun, won’t it?” He smiles at you and tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s not a bad guy. He really isn’t. You’re not entirely sure if he even realises what he’s doing with you, if he knows that he doesn’t really like you but the idea of you, if he knows that there’s no future with you, if he’s realised that this relationship is rapidly approaching its expiry date. He’s been extremely good to you and you owe it to him to try. However much you want it to end, you don’t want it to end badly and you don’t want to hurt him; there’s no need for that.

You gaze around the room, looking at nothing in particular. You sip your drink and wonder what everyone else is thinking about. You barely notice the looks you get anymore – most of them are meaningless anyway and people pass their eyes over you before turning back to their friends – but out of the corner of your eye, you see someone looking at you. You don’t recognise him, but you’ve never been very good with faces and the lighting is weird here. You raise your glass and nod slightly; even if you don’t know him, it’s nice to be polite. He looks a little flustered that you’ve noticed and quickly looks away, and then back again and raises his glass a little before turning and walking away. You smile, what a cutie.

*

Your glass is empty and your feet hurt from standing still for so long, so you tell Hanjae you’re going to get another drink. He asks you to get him a whiskey, so you traipse to the bar and order. You hand the drink to Hanjae without a word and wander off; there must be somewhere to sit in this place.

The main room is cavernous and you’re worried there will be no open doors to anywhere else. There is a small group of tables in one corner, but they are all already occupied. You look around as you walk, and suddenly bump into someone.

“Oh, so-“, you start to say, but you realise it isn’t someone; it is a mirror. The whole back wall is mirrored. For a moment, you are completely disoriented and slightly embarrassed, but as you edge along the mirror, you realise that the wall doesn’t reach the other side and the room continues beyond it. As you cross behind the mirror, the din of music and voices is subdued significantly. There’s another partial wall from the other side as though the room is zig-zagging. You’re wary of going too far, but the increasing quiet is soothing. You turn another corner and there’s a bench opposite a large staircase. You immediately sit down along its length and lift your feet. You wonder what the time is and how much more of it you’ll have to kill before you can go home. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Hanjae is a good man and you are very fortunate and suffering from very glamorous problems. A few months ago, you’d have given an arm and a leg to be at a party like this. Be careful what you wish for, you think to yourself.

As you fidget on the bench, you realise you are not alone. There is a man coming down the stairs. You take your feet off the bench and try to look like you’re doing something (what? What could you be doing? There is absolutely nothing to occupy you here!); you settle for just looking awkward. You nod your head and raise a hand as he reaches the bottom.

“Are you ok?” he asks. His hesitance reminds you of someone and you realise with a flash that he is the man who was looking at you earlier.

You clear your throat.

“네. 괜찮아요. 감사합니다,” you answer falteringly, embarrassed at having been caught hiding out. You rise to leave.

“오, 정말요? ……………?”

You don’t understand the second half of what he said and you curse yourself for having answered in Korean; if you’d just spoken English and pretended you didn’t know any Korean at all, this would’ve been much simpler!

“Sorry, I didn’t understand,” you tell him. “갈게요.”

“No, wait,” he cries, with more force than he intended. “You don’t have to leave.” He gestures to the bench. “I was also looking for somewhere quiet.”

He speaks shyly and you assume he doesn’t have much practice at speaking English and don’t have the energy for locking you both into a conversation where neither of you can quite understand the other. On the other hand, it would feel rude to just walk away now. You stand, not leaving but not quite staying, both of you trapped in an awkward moment that seems to last forever.

“You can leave if you want,” he says, finally. “I am going to stay.” He sits on the bottom step and takes a sip from his drink. “It’s ok, we don’t have to talk- but I can speak English a little bit if you want.”

You slowly return to the bench and sit down. You feel like you should say something, but your mind is blank. It’s like you’ve never had a conversation before in your life; what do people say? Does he even want you to say something? Why was he staring at you earlier? In the same way that everyone else always does or was there a specific reason? You feel your hands start to sweat and you inwardly roll your eyes at yourself and tell yourself to get a grip, literally nothing is happening.

He is looking out of the window and you are staring into the corner on the opposite side; you each take glances at one another, praying the other doesn’t notice. You can still hear the music from the party, quiet in the background, and you wonder if Hanjae has noticed your absence yet; you expect not. You glance at the man opposite you and catch his eye. You both chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m ________,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he answers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“I saw you earlier; I didn’t think we’d met before.”

“No, I’m not really invited to these things,” you explain. “I just tag along with my b-,“ you stop, the word ‘boyfriend’ weighing heavily on your tongue.

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

Dammit.

“Uh, Kim Hanjae?”

“Ah… Don’t know him.”

“He’s…” How on earth did you get to this subject so quickly? Do you really want to talk about Hanjae to this random man? More to the point, does this random man want to hear about your boyfriend and how you actually don’t want him to be your boyfriend anymore? Doubtful. “He’s nice,” you finish, lamely.

“Just don’t like parties?”

Part of you wishes you had just left when you had the chance. Then you realise how ridiculously you’re behaving; hating the party because no one will talk to you and, now, as soon as someone starts, you want to leave. ‘Get a grip, girl,’ you say to yourself.

“I like parties,” you answer, “but it’s-… I’m-… This-…” You pause as you try to work out how to give an honest answer that isn’t simultaneously dumping all your crap onto him. “These are all his friends; I don’t really know anyone here.”

He nods.

“I have a different problem: everyone knows me and wants to talk to me all the time.” He laughs. “I don’t like big parties. They’re… so much… too much.”

You nod. The two of you lapse into silence again, but it’s more comfortable this time. You’ve broken the ice a little. He seems nice and you feel a pang of sympathy for him: to be a big deal at parties like this sounds exhausting, especially if you don’t even like parties to start with. No wonder he’s hiding out with you.

“It’s hard for me to talk to people at these things,” you tell him. “My Korean isn’t very good and Hanjae doesn’t like speaking English when we’re with his friends because some of them don’t speak it.”

“I think your Korean sounds good.”

You laugh; that was a sweet thing to say given that he’s heard you say all of three words.

“It’s ok, but we couldn’t have this conversation in Korean. Sorry.” You smile weakly and feel pathetic; you knew it would be a process, moving to a new country and learning the language as you go, but you weren’t prepared for how embarrassed and ashamed you would feel all the time about your failings.

“Don’t be sorry!” He grins at you. “I can try my English! But, actually, it is not very good either. Sorry.”

You laugh again. Koreans and their modesty; his English sounds just fine from where you’re sitting.

“Did you move here recently?” he asks.

“About four months ago,” you answer. “I was… looking for something new, I guess. I don’t know… I needed new horizons, new experiences.”

“And how do you think about it now you’re here?”

You wonder if he knows what a loaded question that is. You exhale with a huff. Where to begin?

“It’s been harder than I thought it would be,” you tell him. “I feel very… different. Being looked at so much is not something I was used to… I think Hanjae likes it, but it’s awkward for me. I feel like…”

“An object.”

Your eyes meet and your chest is flooded with the warmth of familiarity. He’ll understand, won’t he?

“When we met,” you start, looking away self-consciously, “he was charmed by my foreignness, y’know? And he liked how different I looked and found it cute when I made mistakes in Korean and didn’t know things. It gave him clout, y’know? Dating a foreigner? I was spoilt by it, the attention; I thought it was for me and when he bought me dresses and took me to parties to show me off, I thought it was because I was special, not just because I was foreign. I loved it at the start.

“I think the appeal is wearing off, though,” you continue, stealing a quick glance to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you patiently, intently, concentrating, probably, on understanding what you’re saying. “He gets annoyed sometimes now when I don’t know things and-“

You tell him everything. Once you start, you find you can’t stop. You don’t know whether to be angry or sad about it, so you vacillate between the two. Jungkook listens, never interrupts; he drinks and nods and keeps looking at you with those huge brown eyes.

“I know it’s over,” you say, resolute. “I just-” you realise it as you say it, “I’m scared that I won’t have anything if I don’t have him.”

He looks at you thoughtfully for a moment.

“But you met him in Korea, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you still have the person who moved all the way here to start a new life; that seems like a lot to me.”

For a split second, you don’t know whether to burst into tears or fling your arms around him and give him a kiss. ‘Is he looking at me,’ you wonder ‘or staring into my soul?’. You feel seen, seen for the first time in months. You decide then and there that you would walk on hot coals for this man; he’s got you whether he wants you or not. His kindness streams out from him like rays of the sun from behind clouds. Such a bright, young thing, hiding in the dark.

“What about you?” You ask. “You’re hiding back here, too.”

“Ah.” He finishes his drink and places the glass next to him on the step. “I prefer quiet places. I like to keep things small and…-”

“Intimate?”

You blush furiously as he looks at you. That isn’t what you meant and you’re not sure how he’s taken it.

“Yeah, intimate. Big crowds are not my thing.”

“Not when they forget that you’re a person, first.”

He nods.

You stand and move to look out of the window, closer to him. He rises, too, and stands next to you. Your arm is a hair’s breadth from him; you daren’t move.

“Do you like the view?” he asks.

“Actually, I don’t really like a cityscape. I prefer country views.”

“What are the views like where you’re from?”

No one has asked you about home like that. They ask for funny differences between here and there or ask you to debunk or confirm stereotypes, but no one has really cared what you actually think. You smile, picturing in your mind’s eye cloudy, wind-swept beaches, rolling hills, pier arcades, church spires and so much green. You tell him everything. You turn your back to Seoul and, leaning against the glass, describe the house you grew up in and where your grandparents used to live; you describe the places you took holidays when you were a kid and the specific smell of the sea that isn’t the same anywhere else in the world. He’s been to your home country before, but he hasn’t been to your hometown; he asks questions and shows interest and you realise how starving you’ve been. Starved of this sort of attention – focused, interested, penetrating. You’ve had a taste and you want more and more.

You ask him about Seoul; did he grow up here? No, he tells you about Busan in the South. He speaks slowly and thoughtfully about his childhood and his dreams and moving here at such a young age, growing up so far from everything he’s ever known. He’s achieved more than he ever thought was even possible, more than he had ever dreamed, he explains; sometimes he still can’t believe it’s real.

While he talks, you study his face. He’s happy now, but you feel for the scared, little boy thrust into the industry machine before he even knew who he was. Now’s not the time, you know that, but you want to gently crack him open like a soft-boiled egg. Such depth in his eyes, so much soul. You resist the urge many times to put your hand on his arm, hold his hand for a second, reach out and physically touch him somehow. You feel connected to him in such a way that you need it to be physical for a moment, to close the circle, to just… touch.

You’re still standing by the window, deep in conversation, when a man appears from behind the wall and beckons to Jungkook. They talk quickly and Jungkook returns.

“I’m going to get a drink.”

Your heart falls.

“Do you want one?”

A wash of relief. You shrug, sure.

“Ok, wait here. I won’t be long.”

He leaves and you turn back to the window, pressing your forehead against the cool glass. You wonder what time it is, where is Hanjae, what’s he doing, is he even still here, has he noticed you’re missing, is Jungkook actually coming back? You take some deep breaths.

With no watch, no phone, and no clock in this dark, little hideaway, you have no way to tell how long Jungkook has been. One minute? Could be ten. You wonder if he’ll make it back to you; after all, he was hiding back here to avoid being grasped in the clutches of all the many, many people out there. Maybe he’s been waylaid. He’s got stuck with a chatterbox who won’t be quiet; he’s got trapped into a business conversation that he can’t leave. Maye he’s seen some friends and is having fun out there.

You sigh, knowing that if he doesn’t come back soon, you’ll have to go out there, too. Hanjae will be missing you, you tell yourself; it’s rude to abandon him completely when he’s the reason you’re even here in the first place. You take a deep, resolute breath and stand, smoothing out your dress. You bump into Jungkook as you round the corner.

“Oh,” he says as he sees you. “Are you going?”

He hands you a drink and you take it, the cold glass sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Uh, well, no, well yes, I was but I didn’t know if you were coming back.” You hope you didn’t sound accusatory.

“I’m sorry, it is hard to avoid people out there,” he replies, continuing around the corner and sitting on the bench. You follow him and he places a hand on the bench, indicating you should join. You feel bad; he shouldn’t have to apologise. You sit next to him on the bench and sip your drink.

“You can go back out there, if you want, you know; you don’t have to stay here with me,” you tell him. His eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“No, thank you!” he laughs. “That was enough. Maybe I will show my face again a bit later.”

“Good.” You spoke without thinking and are just about to regret it when he smiles at you.

“Yeah. Good.”

You place a hand down on the bench and he reaches out a finger to touch your bracelet. When you packed your whole life into one suitcase, a lot of brutal cuts had to be made and there are so many parts of your heart at home, abandoned by you, but not this one. It’s a tiny gold chain, with a tiny gold J attached.

“That’s not the letter of your name,” Jungkook says, still studying your bracelet.

“No… No, it’s from my best friend’s name,” you explain. “She gave this to me a long time ago; I like to wear it when I feel like I need her, to feel like I’ve got a little bit of her with me.” You rub your wrist, self-consciously, and wonder what she’s up to right now.

“Does it help?”

“No, not really.” You laugh, a little sad. “It reminds me that there are people in the world who love me, which is nice, but it also reminds me that those people are thousands of miles away.”

“All of them?” His penetrating eyes beam at you and you feel like no matter what answer you give, it’ll be the wrong one. You shrug.

“I thought maybe you told me a fake name before,” he admits, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh, I don’t think that would’ve ever occurred to me! Why, do you do that?”

He nods. He smiles but it's sad, the mirth not reaching his eyes.

“Sometimes. But I wouldn’t get away with it so easily if I wore one of those, right?”

You unclasp the bracelet’s fastening and it slips off your wrist and, taking an end in each hand, hold it out to him. He looks uncertainly at you and you nod. He offers his wrist and you fix the chain in place.

“There’s no getting away from who you really are,” you tell him, knowing full well that it doesn’t matter where you go, ’cause there you’ll always be. He grins. “For tonight.”

“For tonight, I can be your best friend?”

You laugh and nod, thinking, ‘god, can he be my best friend forever?’.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, gently moving the bracelet around his wrist; you wonder what he’s thinking and take a sip of your drink.

A few minutes pass in a comfortable silence until Jungkook speaks again.

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“What?”

“In return.” He indicates the bracelet. “I don’t have anything I can give you.” He takes off a ring and considers it. “I think they will all be too big.” He holds it out and you offer up your hand; he slips it onto your index finger and you lift your hand up, swirling the ring around so that it very nearly flies off the tip.

“Too big,” you confirm with a grin.

He pulls his sleeve up to reveal a watch and you notice the tattoos running underneath.

“I think this will not go with your dress, right?”

You nod absently, trying to make out what you’re looking at. You take the edge of his sleeve and lift it a little higher to get a better look and then become aware of what you’re doing and drop it, apologising instantly.

“That’s ok,” he says and he undoes the cuff, rolling the sleeve up to his elbow. He turns his arm slowly so you can get a good look (or as good a look as you can manage in the dark light). You nod approvingly.

“That’s why I was looking at you earlier,” he says, a little embarrassed. “I was trying to look at your tattoo.”

Well, that explains the intensity of his focus earlier. You turn so that he can see. You feel, for a second, his hand above your skin and your stomach clenches, praying he won’t touch you like everyone else does: ‘just please don’t let him touch me; please, please don’t let him touch me’. But the touch never comes. You sense his hand moving across your back and down your arm and you twist your head to see his finger, an inch above the skin, tracing the lines of your tattoo. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body back towards him.

“They’re very beautiful.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he answers and you’re struck again by the feeling of being seen and not merely looked at. Neither of you looks away this time. You hold the moment between yourselves, pausing time just for a second. You break the connection and look down, tracing a finger over your bracelet on his wrist. You know it’s only a coincidence that they share the same initial – it’s not exactly uncommon – but something about it feels right.

“Do you want it back?” he asks.

No, you don’t. Not yet. You feel like he’s wearing a part of you while he’s wearing it; he has accepted a part of you as a part of himself. You feel warm in the glow of that tiny, tremulous thread between you. You think, and the thought shocks you, that you would be alright he kept it forever. It’s immensely precious to you, so much so that you brought it with you thousands of miles away into your new life, but, somehow, Jungkook’s wearing it brings more to you, more comfort, more confidence, more certainty in the knowledge that there are people in the world that love you. Love is not diminished when given away, it is doubled. You suddenly wish that you did have something of his you could wear, if only for tonight.

The silence lapses and you talk, nursing your drinks, knowing that one of you will have to leave if either of you needs another. You forget the passing of time and everything outside of this little bubble. It’s the most fun you’ve had at a party for ages.

The man who appeared earlier returns and, once again, beckons to Jungkook. Jungkook stands and goes over to him and they, once again, talk quietly. Jungkook returns and the man remains.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Jungkook asks and you feel shattered all of a sudden. You had forgotten all about Hanjae, truth be told, and you are overwhelmed with guilt and shame that you’ve spent the whole night away from him, talking to another man. He isn’t my boyfriend, that’s what you wanted to say: he’s definitely not my boyfriend, or even if he is, I don’t want him to be and he won’t be for much longer! Why is Jungkook asking? Whatever bubble you were in has been popped from the inside. A part of you feels heartbroken and a part of you feels betrayed. It was just you and Jungkook; there’s no need to bring anyone else into this.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know,” you stutter in response. “Probably... somewhere...”. You have no idea where he will be; you assume that he is still here (you hope he is still here because he still has your phone), but who can say for sure?

“Do you want to leave with me?” Jungkook asks and you are stunned into momentary silence.

“What?”

“Do you want to leave with me?” he repeats. “We don’t have to go anywhere; I can take you home if you want, but would you like to leave?”

You feel like that is too many mixed messages to cope with right now so you nod dumbly and stand.

“Hanjae,” you say abruptly as your brain sputters back into gear. “He has my phone and my things.”

“Ok, shall I meet you outside? I’ll wait.”

“I’ll be quick.”

Breathless, you walk as quickly as you can back into the cavernous room, the noise building to a roar, the throng of people overwhelming. You stand on tiptoes and crane your neck, looking for anyone you recognise, cursing the organisers for the dim lighting and all men for their interminably boring black suits which make none of them stand out. You notice movement in your peripheral vision and turn to see a waving arm, beckoning you. It’s not Hanjae; it’s one of his friends.

“Where have you been?” they exclaim as you approach. “Han was looking everywhere for you; thought you must’ve disappeared! Anyway, he had to leave earlier – some work emergency – so he told me to give you these if I saw you.” He hands over your phone, lip balm, and a lipstick you’re sure isn’t yours. “He told you you can order a car if you like, but he won’t be back so you’ll have to get home on your own.”

You see that his friends clearly have no idea of entertaining you or keeping you company for the rest of the evening, which is just as well, given you were about to leave with someone else.

As you make your way outside, you look at the lipstick you were given. You try to think what might constitute a ‘work emergency’ on a Friday night; it’s not like the guy’s a doctor or fire fighter! You try not to let suspicion creep in, because Hanjae has never given you any reason to doubt his fidelity before, but then, you’ve also never considered it, because you’ve never really considered the two of you to be in an actual relationship. Maybe he hadn’t either. And if that’s the case, then there’s no need to be hurt or angered by it. But there is a niggle. There’s something crawling, digging up, trying to plant its seed in your heart. You decide if it’s going to happen at all, it will have to be tonight. As you approach the doorway, you stand to one side and dial Hanjae’s number.

“여보세요?” he answers just as you were about to give up.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh. Where are you?”

“I’m still at the party.”

“Oh. Where did you go? I tried to look for you earlier; I’m not there anymore. I’ve had to come to the office.”

“Yeah, I know; I found Seongyoung and he gave me my phone.”

“Right yeah, yeah.” He sounds distracted.

“So, are you in the office now?” you ask.

“Yeah, but I can’t see you; there’s been a huge mistake and it’s going to take a long time to fix.”

“Please; it’ll be quick. I promise.”

He sighs heavily but agrees. You hang up the phone with a small weight sitting in your stomach.

You turn back to the entrance and walk out, scanning for Jungkook. There are a few dark cars sitting in front of you but you have no idea if any one of them belongs to him. You hesitate, not sure where to turn, standing awkwardly in front of drivers and security officers. A door on one of the cars opens and a hand waves; you approach and Jungkook beams up at you from inside.

“Quick!” He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you in. He speaks quickly to the driver in Korean and turns back to you. “Are you alright?”

“Um, actually, can we go somewhere?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“I... have to do something. It won’t take long, please.”

“Of course, that’s ok. Where do you want to go?”

You give him the address of Hanjae’s office building and he relays it to the driver. You sit, slightly on edge, compulsively flicking the edge of your phone case off and on, off and on. The building isn’t far and you sit in silence while Jungkook hums along to the radio. You are barely even aware of what song is playing. The driver slows and you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Just give me like, five minutes. I’ll be quick,” you say as you open the car door.

“It’s ok; you can take as long as you like. I will wait.”

You wonder what Jungkook thinks you are doing, where he thinks you are. You wonder if he knows. Part of you assumes he does, since he seems to intuitively understand so much about you. You enter the building and approach the reception desk. The woman behind it barely looks up as she opens the barrier to let you in. You’re not sure if she recognises you from times you’ve been here before or just does not care about her job. If you had to man a reception desk in an almost entirely empty building on a Friday night, you probably wouldn’t care much either. As you call a thank you to her and walk past, the lipstick suddenly flashes into your mind. Could it be hers? You suppose it could be. It could be anyone’s. It might not have anything to do with Hanjae at all. Maybe Seongyoung handed you his girlfriend’s lipstick by mistake. Maybe not. It won’t matter soon.

You reach Hanjae’s floor and can see him in his glass-walled office: jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled up, standing and on the phone. You walk with purpose to his door and wave. He gestures for you to come in, so you stand inside the door and wait for his conversation to end.

“What’s up?” he asks, putting his phone on his desk.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” you begin, your resolve holding firm for now.

“Right now? I really don’t have time-“

“I said I’d be quick and I meant it.” If you aren’t quick, you’re not sure you’ll be able to go through with it.

“Ok then, shoot.”

You hadn’t actually planned what you were going to say. None of the words sounded right; you wanted to be clear and direct but kind at the same time; is it even possible to tell someone kindly that you don’t want them to be in your life anymore? You clench and unclench your fist and decide to rip the plaster straight off.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t think we should be together. I think we should end things. This is over.” The words tumble out without your being able to stop them. Hanjae’s eyebrows raise and he looks surprised.

“Oh.”

He looks a little dumb-founded but you had expected him to say more and aren’t sure what to do now. You open and close your mouth like a goldfish, waiting for something else to happen. You haven’t actually broken up with anyone before so you’re not sure how this usually goes.

“Can I ask why?”

“We’re not a good fit.” You hope that this will suffice but you know it won’t satisfy him.

“What does that mean? Don’t we have fun together? Don’t we like each other?” Ay, there’s the rub.

“Actually, I don’t really think you do, no.” You try to explain to him all the things you’ve been feeling recently; you try not to blame him for any of it because you don’t want this to turn into an argument; you tread as carefully as you can but you’re so desperate for this to be over now it’s started that you can’t stop your mouth running on and on.

“You’ve given me so much and I’m so grateful to you for that and I really value all the time we have spent together and I do think you’re a nice person and I don’t want to hurt you but… well, this is how I feel.” You feel a little breathless as you come to a stop. Hanjae doesn’t say anything for a while and you can’t read his face. You don’t know what he’s thinking and the longer the silence lasts, the sicker and sicker you feel.

“I’m sorry that you feel that my attention has been so unwelcome,” he finally answers, speaking slowly and coldly. “I don’t really know what else I could have done to show you that I value you: I buy you things, take you places, I introduced you to all of my friends, I show you off; is that not loving? You say you don’t even think I like you, but if that’s true, why would I bother to see you? Why would I waste my time with you if I didn’t? I hadn’t, until now, considered our time together a waste, but it seems as though my efforts have been just that. You’ve been feeling this way for weeks, have you? Well, why are you here, then? Why did you come tonight at all if all of my friends ignore you and all of my attention is so unwanted? If the time we spend together makes you feel so awful, why have you waited this long to say something? You disappeared very early this evening; I tried looking for you everywhere. You said you were getting a drink and then I didn’t see you again. Perhaps it’s not that my attention is unwanted but that you’ve found someone else whose attention you prefer? Were you just putting up with me for long enough to find a higher roller, someone richer, or more famous perhaps? Am I a step on your ladder to the top? You have never, until tonight, given me a reason not to trust you, but you have to admit that this is rather out of the blue and your behaviour at the party was… not very polite. You abandoned me-“

You scoff at that, unable to stop yourself. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. Hanjae raises his eyebrows and waits for you to explain yourself. You’ve no idea how. You say nothing. You’re the first to break eye contact and you look at the ground, then the window, the desk, anywhere but Hanjae’s face.

“Fine,” he says. “Have it your way. What a horrible boyfriend I was to you, to treat you to presents and dinners and parties, to be so impressed by you that I want to show you off to everyone I know, to speak English with you and help you with Korean, to help you get settled in, to give you a social life, to show you what Seoul has to offer, what I have to offer, to never treat you like-“

“A person. You didn’t treat me like a person, Hanjae. I’m not a prize to show off; I’m a person first, not an object.” Your heart is hammering in your chest and you can feel tears pricking in your eyes. How can you get him to understand?

You don’t know what to say to that.

“Oh, I objectify you?” It is his turn to scoff. “And yet I am the one who has been used.”

“No, I- it’s- we- I-“

“Whatever, you can leave now.” He turns his back on you and picks up his phone again. He turns around with the phone to his ear and nods at the door, shooing you away. You turn around and leave the office on trembling legs. As soon as you step into the lift to go back down, the tears come. You’re not even sure why you’re crying; you wanted this after all. It was just horrible. You feel sticky with sweat all over, and shaky with the stress of it. You know that Hanjae isn’t right, saying those things about you, and he was lashing out defensively, but it hurt all the same. Or maybe he is a little bit right. You said yourself that he’s given you so much, access to things and people and places you wouldn’t have had otherwise; you said yourself that you enjoyed that. Maybe you are in the wrong, at least a little bit. You both are, you suppose. You exit the lift and walk briskly out of the office, not turning to look at the receptionist on your way out in case she sees you crying. You step out of the door and hide behind a pillar, catching your breath, drying your tears and trying to put on a happy face. Leaning against the cold stone of the wall, you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

“____?”

Shit. Jungkook is right there in front of you, looking concerned.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

You shake your head and hold up your hands.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You stand up straight and give yourself a body shake. “Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You can’t think of much worse than going home to your poky apartment to spend the rest of your night miserable and alone.

“No… Can we, can we get a drink? Do you want to get a drink?”

Jungkook grimaces slightly. “Ah, that’s kind of difficult for me. I can’t really just go to a bar on a Friday night, y’know?”

Your heart sinks; of course he doesn’t want to go to a bar with you.

“We could have a drink at my house, if you want?” he offers.

Your heart rises. God, yes, please.

You drive back to Jungkook’s apartment in silence. The presence of the driver makes you feel somehow inhibited, self-conscious. You feel conspicuous, even though you’re sure the driver couldn’t care less about who you are or what you’re doing there. He’s just doing his job. You, nevertheless, don’t want to say anything yet, not until you’re alone with Jungkook. He’s scrolling on his phone, and you take the opportunity to study him more closely. His face changes with the changing light: suddenly brightly lit as you stop at traffic lights under a lamppost, then hidden in shadows. He has a kind face, open and bright, deep, soft eyes… You wanted to reach out a finger to trace his profile, the line of his lips, study him as if you were about to embark upon a masterpiece of him. Not that you would be able to capture his spirit if you tried. There’s a light in his eyes that seems to lie so deeply within them but shine so close to the surface.

You can’t work out what you’re feeling – too much, honestly. You need a minute to step back, step out of yourself – out of your life – to sort through everything that had happened. You feel a little as though you have accidentally stepped on a travelator and things are moving faster than you can keep up with. You wonder if you’ll regret any of this in the morning, if sleep will clear your mind and show your actions up as mistakes. You hope not. You think not. You catch the glint of your bracelet, still around Jungkook’s wrist and you nod to yourself. No, this – if this alone – is not a mistake.

When you arrive at Jungkook’s building, he shows you in and your mouth gapes. This was much bigger than Hanjae’s place. Wow. Just how famous was this guy? You are reminded forcefully of how little you actually know about him, whatever your feelings might be saying.

“What would you like to drink?” he asks, crouching in front of a cabinet. He opens the door to reveal all manner of spirits and liquors.

“Oh, anything,” you answer, without thinking. He laughs and you’re embarrassed by your answer but making another decision at this point feels impossible. You feel like a swan, calm on top, but flailing wildly underneath. You begin to think that maybe you should have let Jungkook take you home, so you could’ve gone to bed, or stared out of the window blankly until the sun rose. He’s too stimulating. Questions constantly rise to the surface of your mind like bubbles in boiling water: what’s his family like? What’s his favourite film? What’s his favourite food? Is he single? What’s he thinking? What does he want out of life? He’s already achieved his career dream so what’s his next dream?

He hands you a glass and you take a sip without even looking. It’s strong, good. You follow Jungkook to the sofa and flop onto it, thankful to be sitting comfortably. He asks if the drink is ok and you just nod and take another sip. You’re torn with conflicting desires: to stare at him endlessly, to fall into his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to tell him everything, to listen to him tell you everything, to kiss him, to never kiss him, to be his best friend, to fall in love with him, to fall in love with him and love him from afar from the rest of your life. It's exquisite, the confusion, the keenness of your muddled feelings. You wonder briefly if you are just drunk but shake the thought from your head: you haven’t had that much to drink.

You drink in silence for a while and when you’ve finished, you stand. Placing your glass on the coffee table, you wander over to the bookcase, full of not books but DVDs and figurines. You scan the titles, your eyes not really seeing. They linger on a small figurine of a tiger at the edge of a shelf. You pick it up.

“Year of the tiger?” you ask, brandishing the figure at him.

“It is.” He stands and comes closer to you, taking the tiger in his hand.

“This is me,” you tell him. 24 years old, you were born two tigers ago. You take the figure back and wiggle it in his face. He laughs.

“I’m an ox,” he says, kneeling down. He opens the door of a little cabinet and reveals figurines for each of the zodiac animals. You laugh picking them up and inspecting them. He takes the ox from the cupboard and the tiger from your hand and puts them both back on the bookshelf. Feeling silly, you move the tiger and make a sound that’s neither quite a roar nor a meow as though the tiger is talking to the ox. Jungkook laughs and responds in kind, lowing deeply as he turns the ox towards the tiger. This is the sort of nonsense you need to lift you from the deep water of your confused feelings.

You move to the window as Jungkook refills your glass. It’s probably a good view that he probably paid a lot of money for but you can’t be enamoured with so many lights and so much modern architecture. You can just barely make out the dark shape of the mountains beyond and you smile; that’s more like it. Jungkook joins you at the window. You talk quietly; you don’t want to tell him that you broke up with Hanjae, because it implies something that you don’t really want to imply, but it comes out in the course of conversation and you actually feel relieved. You don’t know what Jungkook feels about it, if anything, but he seems pleased for you. You feel like everything is so fragile, delicate, precarious. You stay talking at the window for what feels like hours (maybe it is) because you feel that to move will be to ruin the moment somehow, force a shift in the atmosphere that you don’t want.

Your eyes settle on the gold chain at his wrist and your fingers reach out for it, toying with it. Jungkook’s hand moves, into yours, his fingers dancing on your palm. You flick your eyes back to his and he’s smiling at you, shy and sweet. You let him take your hand and suddenly it’s a handshake and you’re snorting, laughing, leaning towards each other as your shoulders shake. You lean your head on his shoulder as your breath comes back and Jungkook moves his hand to waist, pulls you closer to him.

He’s still smiling when you lift your head to look at him and you’re staring back at him, wide-eyed and unsure. He pulls you closer still, his arm snaking around your waist and he kisses you without hesitation. His lips are soft but he isn’t; he’s sure and confident and he brings his thumb to your chin to gently press down, gently open your mouth and let him inside. You’re responding before you’ve had the opportunity to think. Your hands grab at the collar of his shirt and you move against him, a leg between his legs, his bottom lip between your teeth. You’re dizzied and light-headed, grateful to the cool glass at your back and Jungkook’s arms secure around you.

When he pulls back, with apparent effort, he rests his forehead on yours, nudges your nose with his and looks at you from under his thick, dark lashes.

“Honestly, I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he says, his voice hushed in the silence of the apartment, and then he barely brushes his lips against yours again, as if he just can’t help himself.

If you were confused earlier, you aren’t anymore. The world around you has faded to a fuzzy, black blur, eclipsed by the soft bloomings of want in your chest.

“I’ve wanted you to do that all night,” you whisper back, aware only as you’re saying it that it’s true. You have wanted him to do that. You want him to do it again and then a whole lot more.

He takes your face in his hands and kisses you, lightly, gently.

“I don’t usually do this,” he says, eyes alighting on yours for only a second before he’s looking at your lips again. “It’s not… This isn’t like me but…”

“I know,” you reply. “Me, too.”

“I feel…”

“Something.”

“Yeah.”

Your heart skips a beat when he looks at you and the world holds its breath; you almost feel time slow down, the seconds that it takes for his hands to fall from your face, glide down your body, and encircle you again stretch into minutes. The distance between your lips – not even inches – stretches far into the horizon. You almost feel each of the chambers of your heart squeeze, a rush of warmth heating your cheeks, your chest, your core.

And then his lips are on you and you’re like a Catherine wheel, spinning and sparking and wild. Time snaps back like an elastic band and you’re frantic now, all hands and lips and tongue.

You slip your fingers into his shirt, flicking open the buttons, running your hands over his body, soft and supple and flushed. His hands push your dress higher and higher, over the slope of your hips and he lifts you, pushing you against the glass and pushing his body into yours. You can feel the arousal pooled at your core and you can feel him straining against his trousers. You’re wet like you’ve been waiting all night for it, like you’ve been anticipating this very moment since you first laid eyes on him. You push his shirt to the floor, watching it float down like a white flag of surrender: surrendering yourself to him, he to you, to this, whatever this is or could be.

“Oh, fuck, fuck.”

Soft whispers tumble from you as Jungkook’s fingers slide past your underwear and press into your wet heat. Your cunt squeezes against them and your hips cant towards him as he presses his thumb against your clit. Your whimpering, whining, mewling barely drowns out the squelch of his fingers working inside you, arousal dripping down his hand. You’re climbing steadily to your peak, moaning against his mouth as he rolls his tongue with yours. You pull on his hair, his head tipping back, his throat exposed. He looks down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a slack jaw. Then he grins, thrumming faster, pressing harder and you’re squirming. You let go of his hair to clutch around his shoulders, holding on hard as your own head tips back, thudding against the glass.

Jungkook brings his face close to yours and nudges your nose with his, gently guiding your attention back to him. He holds your gaze as your legs quiver and shake, as your breath hitches and you close your eyes, so, so close now.

“Look at me.” His voice is low, soft, but demanding. “I want to see you… I want you to look at me when you come.”

And you do. Your eyes don’t leave his as you fall apart in his arms, pleasure coursing through you like a lightning strike. You’ve barely finished before he’s crashing his lips into you, urgent and needy and then suddenly neither of those things. He slows. He removes his fingers from your soaking wet slip and he holds you close to him, just barely grinding his hips into you. His kiss is deep, languorous, like he’s really tasting you now. The quiet moan he makes as his tongue rolls with yours makes your heart skip a beat and you’re weak. So weak that, when he drops you, lightly, your feet returning to the floor, you almost stumble, almost fall. But he’s got you.

He pushes your dress back down, smoothing it out so he can unzip it. He finally breaks your kiss as he pulls it from your shoulders, letting it slip down your arms. You’re braless and goosebumps sprinkle all over your skin, your nipples shivering to attention. You run your hands through Jungkook’s hair as he dips his head, lowers himself to kiss your neck, your chest, to run his tongue up the underside of your breast and suck your tight little bud into his mouth. The glass at your back is cold but he is so warm in front of you.

He drops to his knees, hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulls them to the floor. You step out and he flings them away.

“I want to make you come again.”

He looks up at you and his eyes are wide, imploring, asking, seeking, searching and it’s all you can do to just nod. You’ve had one-night stands and hook-ups and situationships and even boyfriends who haven’t said that to you, who haven’t cared enough to try for one, let alone more.

He’s still looking at you when he puts his mouth on you and runs his tongue through your folds. You let your head fall back again, eyes to the ceiling. Jungkook grunts, the vibration against you a little shock. You look back down at him and he nods, swirling his tongue around your clit, and you understand: he wants you to look at him, he wants to see you and wants you to see him seeing you, as you have all evening. Because he does. See you. He sees you like no one else has. You can already feel it bubbling up within you. You can sense his soul reaching out to yours as yours reaches back to him. You think to yourself that you would probably have fallen in love with him even if he weren’t so good at—

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook. Fuck. Yes, like that.”

He’s fucking you with his fingers again with his mouth sealed around your clit, the soft plane of his tongue pressing against it, sucking and then lapping. You grab onto his hair, hard, grounding you, something, anything to tether you to this world as you feel yourself floating away.

He groans and you understand his instruction, having to drag your eyes back to his. His brows are furrowed, eyes shining bright. Looking into his eyes at this moment is like falling into an abyss. Tumbling and twisting, your body writhes with pleasure, shuddering against the window as you come again, a cry strangled in your throat, legs shaking and then you’re literally falling, sliding down the glass. Jungkook follows you down, his fingers still pressing against you as he kisses up your stomach, your chest, and then he’s holding you. You’re in his arms and he’s kissing you, your own arousal all over his lips and his tongue.

“You ok?” he asks, his voice thick and low.

You couldn’t speak. Could only take his face between your palms and kiss him again. He lifts you up into his lap, so you’re straddling him, knees either side of his hips, and you can feel him, pressing against his trousers, trapped and tensed. You sit down a little further and roll your hips over him; he groans into your mouth and his hands on your glutes squeeze tight.

“Jungkook,” you whisper and he whispers your name back. “Please.”

He lifts you from his lap and kneels up, hands working at his belt and his zip. He stands to shuck them down his legs and kicks them off. You look up at him and ask,

“Do you have…?”

He nods, crossing the room to his wallet on the sideboard by the door. You press your hands against the cool glass of the window, but rather than cooling you, it warms, too. There is heat all over you, burning around you.

Jungkook returns and falls to his knees, condom in hand. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and mumbles, rolling his eyes at himself as he stands once more to push them all the way down and off. You giggle, reaching out for him, rising on your knees as he slides the rubber over his length. He pulls you to your feet and cages you in against the window, lips capturing yours.

He bites down on your lower lip and you can feel him at your entrance. He’s rubbing his length along your slick slit and you’re whimpering, walls fluttering, heart racing. He breaks the kiss to look you in the eye as he pushes into you. A soft gasp leaves you and your hands circle tight around his biceps. You can feel him slow, his eyes watching you carefully now.

“No, don’t stop, don’t stop. It feels good. Please.”

He continues, still slowly, and, when he’s all the way in, he kisses you again, pressing his body against yours.

“Jungkook,” you breathe, but whatever you were about to say disappears into a moan as he drags his cock out and then pushes back in. He moans back and brings a hand to your breast, his thumb rubbing light circles against your pert nipple. You’re already not sure how you’re still standing and then he lowers his lips to your neck and sucks at just exactly the right spot. Your legs tremble and your cunt quivers and you feel his hot breath against your skin as he chuckles.

“You like that, huh?”

“Yes.”

He says no more and his lips return to the sweet spot on your neck. You cling to him, gripping tightly, every pass of the head of his dick against your g-spot a test of your strength, fading rapidly as you start to drown in him. He thrusts deep and slow with little grunts of effort, like he’s holding back.

“Jungkook, I—”

“Yes?”

He’s looking at you again and, up close like this, he takes your breath away.

“I want more. More. I-… I can’t stand, but I wan—oh.”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he’s grabbing you, his hands at the backs of your thighs lifting you, taking all your weight onto him. You wrap your legs around him and he moves faster now, harder, looking down at where he disappears into you. He’s more vocal, louder, as he fucks you into the window and the sound of him, his pleasure, his pleasure in you, stirs you. You’re fucked out and weak but your desire renews your force. You squeeze your walls against him and he curses.

“Shit.”

You do it again and a tiny chuckle bubbles up in his throat.

“Baby, you are dangerous. You’re—fuck, hngh—you’re going to make me come.”

He’s panting and breathy and his hair sticks to his forehead. You wrap you arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, his jaw, bite at his earlobe.

“Isn’t that the point?” you whisper.

A shudder runs through him and he growls, his grip on you tighter, even painfully tight. You pull back to look at him and his eyes are black, his jaw set, his brow furrowed. But he’s still looking at you; his eyes aren’t glazed, aren’t elsewhere, aren’t looking through you. He’s seeing you and you feel naked but not afraid, not exposed. You hold his face and kiss him and he grunts, groans; it’s open-mouthed and sloppy, your breath mingling as your tongues slide past and over each other.

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and his stare is so intense, from that alone you would know he was close. He’s cursing lightly, repeatedly, fucking you hard, and then he’s coming, too, with a shudder and an animal groan, guttural and low.

He lowers you both down to the floor and lays you down, kissing you lightly, almost politely, as he brushes your hair from your face. He turns away and stands, disposing of the used condom and grabbing the blanket from the sofa. You just watch him return to you, settling next to you on the floor, covering both your bodies.

You look at the window where your heat and sweat have condensed in an already fading cloud. You laugh and point it out; he laughs, too.

“It’s almost gone already,” he says, watching it shrink, disappear, self-effacing.

You hum. This is usually when you’d feel awkward, make a show of being polite, get up and go but you don’t want to leave; you want to stay right where you are and watch the sun rise with him. You want to yawn and stretch yourself like a cat before curling against him and sleeping through the morning. You want to kiss him both goodnight and good morning. You look at him looking at the window and imagine an entire life with him, spanning years and decades in a second. Your heart beats heavy in your chest and you wonder if he can feel it, if he feels it, too.

When he finally looks back at you, you know. He kisses you like you’re precious, gently traces the shapes of your face with featherlight fingers. You shiver and he pulls you closer into his warm body, pulls the blanket tighter around you.

“Y’know,” he says, pausing to kiss you again. “I’m really glad I went to that party.”

Oh my! This combines two of my biggest obsessions in one - Regency romance and BTS. I absolutely love Yoongi as the Darcy like figure. Because he totally IS a Darcy. Super accurate. And the characters are fleshed out really effectively. They aren’t 2D and lifeless, but interesting and multifarious. I definitely expected Jimin to confess to Ms. Jeon though and why did I feel like Areum is meant for JK? That’s just me adding drama probably. Lol.

Anyway, loved this. Really really loved it! And good sweet story to distract me from the complications of real life!

andante cantabile: coda || MYG x reader

pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut

rating: 18+ / explicit

wc: 3.8k

summary: Min Yoongi is dedicated to his craft, to the point of overworking himself. You have your own ways of ensuring he takes a break.

story warnings: pianist!yoongi, jane austen rip-off (but make it saucy), established relationship, so so so fluffy

smut warnings: feelsy soft vanilla smut, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, mc has a thing about yoongi's hands because of course, the inherent intimacy of being undressed by your partner, unprotected sex

note: is it an epilogue is it just a smutty follow-up is there a technical difference does ANYONE really care about what we're calling it? here is the smut yall 💖

(works as a stand-alone even if you haven't read the rest of the story)

masterlist: 1 | 2 | 3 | coda

Would you ever tire of hearing your husband play?

You hoped not. You most certainly were not today, the corners of your lips rising in an unbidden smile at the sound and sight of Yoongi behind the pianoforte.

The last sunlight of the day bathed him in a warm light contrasted by deep shadows, the window behind him providing a backdrop of a sky painted in pinks and golds. His brow furrowed in concentration while he made his way through a fast passage, a prestissimo that daunted you just to hear it. Yet every note retained a lightness, lifting your spirits.

Overcome by the sudden desire to be close, you left your vantage point at the doorway, making a careful approach to not disturb his focus. You ushered away the servant who had been turning the sheets of music and took his place, then quietly signalled him to leave the drawing room. You wanted your husband all to yourself.

Except you did not quite have him right now, not really.

Yoongi never faltered during the small disruption, his full attention on his rehearsal. He had a habit of losing himself in the music, whether he was practising or composing. Losing awareness of his surroundings and the passage of time. Doubtlessly, he had no realisation of how late it had gotten, and he began to worry you.

His passion and dedication to his craft were a credit to him, but only to a point. As far as you were concerned, that point had been reached today. Still, you quietly turned the pages for him, waiting for him to finish before you launched your intervention.

He only made it apparent that he had noticed you when his shoulder brushed against yours as he went through the final cadence, the move too deliberate to be accidental. The notes died down but he did not look at you, pressing a little firmer against you instead.

Good, for this way he could not see the mischievous smile as you removed your gloves, preparing for a little deliberation of your own. Fingers brushed over his hand, tracing a vein. Ever since you first saw his bare hands you had developed a bit of an obsession; large but delicate and so very beautiful. You rested your head on his shoulder, seeking out the glow of his sun-warmed body while you continued your lazy caresses.

His fingers twitched under your touch, but Yoongi did not retreat. Instead he let out a contented sigh, surrendering himself to your affections. “I must continue practise,” he murmured, but it was a feeble protest, unconvincing to either of you.

“Must you?”

He chuckled tiredly, and the shake of his shoulders made you lift your head.

“You have been working hard all day.” You cupped his cheek and guided him to face you directly, giving you full sight of the darkening shadows under his eyes. “Is it not time to rest? I miss you.”

If a touch of guilt was required to persuade him away from work, you would provide.

“Hm. Are you implying I have been neglecting you? What a troublesome wife,” he said, but the way he leaned into your touch belied his words, eyes closing in bliss.

You huffed. “I would argue you have been neglecting yourself.”

His eyes fluttered open, long lashes brushing against his cheeks. You welcomed the trap of his intense gaze, gladly allowing yourself to be pulled into the warmth of his dark eyes. Silence fell, but you knew your husband well enough to know he was considering your words honestly.

“Perhaps,” he conceded, then laughed when he saw the surge of triumph on your face. He knew his wife well enough to know how much you loved to win—and you counted this as a victory.

Still chuckling fondly, Yoongi cradled the back of your head. He tugged you closer, leading you into a grateful kiss. You gave into him, to the tongue playing against your bottom lip. While he was not always the most overt with his affections, it only served to increase the impact when he did show them. Even now the simple glide of his tongue against yours threatened to overwhelm you.

You made a soft noise against his mouth, your fingers sliding into his hair to anchor yourself as heat blossomed in your core. Fully aware of the effect he had on you, his expression was almost smug when he pulled away. Almost, if not for the unadulterated adoration shining through, a lingering hint of disbelief tugging at his features at the knowledge he could kiss you like this.

“I suppose I could take a break,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“Perhaps some reading?” you proposed, careful to maintain a neutral expression as you suggested the innocuous activity. Your thumb slowly brushed across his knuckles.

Shaking his head, Yoongi made a sound that could be either a laugh or a sigh of exasperation. He pressed a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth, then further along your jawline. “Nothing else you had in mind?” he breathed by your ear, raising the little hairs on your neck.

“Oh? Unsatisfied with my suggestion?” you laughed, then tapped your finger to your lips as though deep in thought. “No, of course you are absolutely right,” you said. “It is getting late, we should turn to bed instead.”

Abruptly you rose from your seat, tugging on Yoongi’s hand as you stood up. Taken unawares by your sudden movement, he let you pull him on his feet, but his surprise quickly transformed into a wide smile. Your heart softened at his exposed gums, and you could not resist pressing a swift kiss on his cheek before you led him out of the drawing room.

However, Yoongi quickly took charge, his hand squeezing yours as he pulled you along with an urgency in his step.

You raised an eyebrow, though you could not deny the excitement that coursed through you. “Just what do you have planned, Mr. Min?”

He scowled at the formal address, but there was no power behind the surly look, his eyes filled with a tenderness contrary to his intentions. He drew you into the bedroom with express purpose, and never had the click of the door been louder.

Standing behind you, Yoongi curled his fingers around your waist while he pressed featherlight kisses up the column of your neck. His nose brushed over your skin, his quiet breath scorching. You let out a soft sigh of want, leaning back against him while you gathered your skirts for easy lifting.

Yet Yoongi pried your hands away, nuzzling into the crook of your shoulder, unbothered by the chemise separating him from you. You turned your head in confusion; you could feel how affected he was, why the delay? “Yoongi, what are you–”

A pout drew over his lips and he nipped at you through the thin fabric, a gentle pinch that silenced your questioning. “I want to take my time with you,” he said, voice coarse. “Let me do this.”

You wanted to ask what, but he answered you when his hands glided up, over your stomach, chest, until he reached the pins that held up the front of your dress. With a surprisingly deft touch he removed them, allowing the flap to fall down and expose the laced bodice underneath.

Heat swept across your cheeks with the realisation of his plan. No quick hiking up your skirts tonight. Instead he dropped the pins on the dressing table by the door and continued his work with incredible patience. With a sharp inhale he brushed against your chest, lingering over the swell of your breast. Your heart pounded under his touch, lips curling against your neck when he felt your body’s response.

“You were right,” he murmured, the words barely above a whisper, then began to undo the drawstring that pulled your dress tight around the high waistline. “I was neglecting myself.” He kissed just underneath your jawline, a quick dart of his tongue against the sensitive skin. “You always take care of me. Let me give back.”

“Yes,” you gasped, a storm of emotions brewing inside you. “Please.” There was an intimacy to this, to your husband servicing you, that rendered you helpless in the face of his diligence. At every persistent touch, every tug at your gown, you clutched harder onto the front of your skirts, teeth worrying your lip as you struggled to stand still for him.

His mouth busied itself with your neck, jaw, until he finally found yours in a kiss, deep but distracted as he tried to focus on his task. He let out a puff of frustration when he grasped uselessly at the fabric, breaking away from your lips.

“Allow me,” you said, smiling at his disgruntled scowl, and removed a final pin before shrugging the sleeves off your shoulders.

With a gratified moan he kissed your cheek, then tugged the sleeves down further. You wondered how much longer his restraint would endure; how much longer yours would. The slow skirmishes across your skin were torturous, a heat radiating off him that you longed to burrow yourself into.

Finally the gown fell down, pooling at your feet, and Yoongi drew a shuddering breath as he removed the petticoat. Hands pressed against your shift, the touch burning through the thin muslin as he trailed upward, over the curve of your hips onto your stays. He stepped backwards to undo the spiral lacing—though he could not bear too much distance, leaning in to whisper adorations in your ear while he released you from the undergarment.

A shiver ran down your spine as the stays loosened around your chest, Yoongi’s nimble fingers careful at work. You reached back to clutch at his waistcoat, seeking a lifeline. So close. He was almost done. Anticipation rushed through you like blood in your veins, centering your core. Soon he would touch you the way you needed him to. Soon.

The stays fell away and Yoongi turned you around. You locked eyes with him, struck by the softness you found in his expression, a reverence to the way his gaze wandered over your body, now dressed in nothing but a shift, stockings and slippers.

With shallow breaths you loosened the drawstring in your shift’s neckline while Yoongi took you in. He cupped your cheeks, pulling you close into a kiss when the shift dropped away.

You steadied yourself against him, a shudder running through you that was part exhilaration, part the exposure of your bare skin to cool air. You slipped out of your shoes just as Yoongi’s tongue slipped past your lips, one of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist to hold you close, enveloping you in his protective warmth.

A hunger seeped into his kiss; his patience had paid off and now he finally reaped the rewards. He took a step forward, then another, forcing you back until you hit the edge of the bed. As though worried you would fall apart underneath him, Yoongi carefully lowered you onto the sheets. He helped you loosen the ribbons that held your silk stockings in place, then removed them one by one, his mouth following the newly exposed skin with touches so light they left you shivering in their wake.

Finally you laid naked beneath Yoongi and he regarded you with a low hum, satisfied with his efforts. He made quick work of the buttons on his waistcoat, then threw it aside. Leaning over you, your husband’s eyes were darker than ever, two black obsidians glimmering under his furrowed brow. He let out a pleased sigh as he kissed the soft slope of your stomach, his lips dragging over your skin as he traversed further down. You squirmed restlessly, impatience taking over.

“Yoongi, please,” you sighed, leaning on your elbows to better see him. “I need you.”

His crooked grin caused a buzzing heat to coarse through you, a promise in that mischievous glint. “And you have me.”

He slid off the bed, hands firm on your thighs to pull you with him, further and further until he could hook your legs over his shoulders. A whimper escaped you as his breath fell on you, so close to where you longed for him.

Pressing his cheek against the cushiony skin of your thigh, he inhaled deeply. Savouring the moment. Just as you began to protest his slow pace, he parted your lower lips and descended.

With a strangled cry your throat closed up, head falling back at the sudden intensity after all those light touches. One of your elbows buckled, then the other while Yoongi explored greedily. You gasped, back arching as your hands blindly reached for something to hold onto. One gripped at the sheets, the other found Yoongi’s hair.

He played with your body as though you were a song to be performed, giving you the same care and deliberation as his tongue delved through your folds, swiftly working you to a rapturous crescendo. Your soft moans mingled with his enthusiastic grunts, a steady hand on your hip to keep you still, though you could not help the arching of your spine, your toes digging into his shirt as you sought anything to anchor yourself with. You whimpered his name and in response to your call, Yoongi’s teeth scraped over you. You jolted with a sharp gasp, the hand in his hair tightening.

Yoongi grunted when you pulled just a touch too hard, breaking rhythm. You began to apologise, the words feeble and shaky, but he merely shook his head and pressed a soft kiss on your thigh. His hand encapsulated yours, fingers laced together as he gently pulled you away from his hair and guided you to rest your conjoined hands on your stomach. “I got you, you can let go,” he soothed warmly.

“Then,” you said with a gasp, fighting to keep the whine out of your voice, “you need to get back to what you were doing.”

He laughed, a throaty chuckle that only stoked the flames higher. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, eyes crinkled with a fondness at odds with the shine on his lips and chin.

“Please.”

The word was nothing but a shudder, barely audible—but Yoongi hummed contentedly, mouthing at your lower lips so the vibrations drove straight into your core. “There,” he said, sliding a finger inside you, “all you had to do was be polite.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, aware that your brave attempt to mask the shaking of your thighs was failing. “I thought you liked it when–”

Without warning, Yoongi leaned down and lapped with renewed determination. Your head fell back on the bed, the retort ripped from your lips by the insistent vigour of his mouth and replaced by a soundless cry. The decadently wet noises he made between your thighs only served to amplify your pleasure, sending an euphoric thrill through you.

Underneath your hand you felt the quiver of your abdominal muscles in response to the combined efforts of his tongue and now two fingers. An almost playful rhythm, driving you towards the edge in slow but steady waves.

You surrendered yourself to him, panting hard as you pressed your cheek against the sheets. Then his long fingers curled and you were cast into a blissful void, a muted buzz rushing through your ears as you keened, hips futilely snapping up against your joined hands. He gripped yours tightly as he slowed down but never stopped, luring you into a drawn-out cascade of ecstasy. Only when your cries died down and your hips settled on the bed did he lift his head, a distinctly smug lilt to his smile.

He licked his swollen lips as he stood up, savouring your taste while he began to undress himself, allowing you time to recover. Even through the layers of his clothes you could see the damp mark on his trousers, and you rubbed your slick thighs together at the sight. Yoongi’s self-control slipped away, but the urgency as he tugged at his clothes only slowed the process down.

But, in the languid aftermath of your climax, you found your patience again. You had all the time in the world, and there were few ways you would rather spend it than watching your husband gradually reveal himself to you. His porcelain skin, the soft expanse of his torso, all just for you. He yanked off his shirt, tousling his dark hair even further. You bit your lip at the thought of running your hands through the tactile locks, and you could not help your delighted grin when Yoongi’s cheeks reddened under your heated stare.

Self-consciously, he cleared his throat. “Don’t do that,” he mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull off his stockings.

With a lazy smile you lifted your leg to drag a toe over the length of his spine. “Do what? Adore you?”

He slipped off his drawers, then turned his head to face you. You anticipated a pout, for his bottom lip to stick out in an endearing sulk, but instead you were met with such a tenderness your breath caught, any further teasing banished from your mind.

“Undo me,” Yoongi answered simply. He joined you onto the bed, laying on his side next to you, where he brushed a stray hair out of your face. His eyes were depthless pools drawing you in, but when you reached for him he intercepted your hand and kept his distance—leaving you to pout instead.

Chuckling at the sight, he pulled you along with him as he sat back against the headboard of the bed. You settled on his lap, glad to take advantage of the position to glide your fingers through his dark hair. He sighed, eyes falling shut with bliss and head leaning forward to rest on your shoulder. Blindly his hands found your waist, and you let out a soft whimper as he helped manoeuvre you.

Instinctively you canted your hips to seek him out and buried your face in his hair as he pressed inside you, muffling your own moans. His breath stuttered, tongue tracing lazy circles on your collarbone when you sank down.

You began to roll your hips, relishing in the sounds you drew from your husband. Gently you tilted his head back and brought his lips to yours. You could taste yourself on him, but welcomed the proof of his worship of you, delving deeper.

His grip on you tightened, taking control of your rhythm as he guided your motions. Though his fingers had prepared you well, you still whined at how completely he filled you. Every part of you sensitive, the slide of him inside you was addictive and sent a sharp heat pulsing through you. But instead of fixating on your own pleasure, you focused on Yoongi; on his quiet grunts, on the way his jaw began to go slack even as you kissed him. With a playful bite at his lip you released him, a small trail of saliva connecting your mouths until he let his head fall back against the oaken headboard behind him.

He watched you through lidded eyes, lips parted and chest heaving. Exhaling harshly, he began to unravel underneath you, his fingers digging into your flesh. Then one of his hands abandoned his grip, trailing upwards to thumb at the swell of your breast, teasing against a nipple. “Got another for me?” he asked, pleaded, not wanting to end this before bringing you to a second high.

You pressed your forehead against his, opening your mouth to speak but all you could manage was a senseless babbling stream of ‘yes’ and ‘please’.

But you needed just a little more.

You reached for his hand on your hip, tugging at his wrist. Always quick to catch your meaning, Yoongi grinned crookedly through his laboured breathing and pressed his thumb exactly where you wanted him. Craved him. Intimately familiar with your body, he rubbed tight circles while the hand on your breast pinched and tugged. Your eyes squeezed shut while your mouth fell open, his deft touch effortlessly bringing you back to the precipice.

He captured your lips in a tender kiss just as you reached your zenith, his calm a stark contrast to your helpless writhing in his lap. You tried to return his kiss, your hand slipping out of his hair to cup his cheek, but your nose clumsily bumped into his, teeth catching on his bottom lip.

Toes digging into the sheets to give himself more leverage, Yoongi grabbed onto your waist again and he slammed up into you. He hissed as you clenched around him, whispering encouragements against his mouth, until his grunts turned to a strangled moan and he found his release, spilling hot inside you.

A hush fell over the bedroom. Your lips brushed against his, not quite a kiss but close enough for your breaths to intermingle.

Yoongi’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close for as long as he could. “Hm. Maybe I should overdo my practises more often,” he said, voice husky from exertion.

You let out a breathless laugh and slumped against him, basking in his heat. “Don’t you dare,” you said, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on his neck. “I need to stop rewarding you for these bad habits.”

He made a petulant noise, pinching your side. You yelped, attempting to escape his touch but caged in by his arms. “Yoongi!”

Far too satisfied with himself for riling you up, Yoongi grinned as he kissed you deeply. But when he withdrew, his brow had softened and he brushed a thumb over your cheek with a quiet intensity—though you could see lethargy beginning to settle behind his eyes. “I will do better,” he said in a murmur. “I don’t like to worry you.”

A warmth settled into your chest at his earnest words. You broke out in a wide smile, a weight falling off your shoulders you had not realised was there. “I love you,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

Yoongi grunted, a red dusting returning to his cheeks. “Of course I do,” he grumbled, bottom lip stuck out as he talked. With a sigh he ran a hand through his hair, then let it drop down to squeeze your knee. “I love you, too.”

You tucked your head underneath his chin, curling up close. His heartbeat thudded against your cheek, a steady rhythm that made it all too easy to let a fulfilled drowsiness take hold of you. He ran a soothing hand up and down your back, nose pressed into your hair. Neither moved for a long time.

Oof. I’m a wreck!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭 what a lovely piece of work. Sweet and charming and gut wrenching. Just the right amount of sad and happy for this melancholy heart.

Thank you for sharing your work 😊

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he’s easy to love. your relationship’s perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn’t think sometimes — and that’s what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i’m grateful for all ur love n support!! i’ll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Keep reading

Oh my god!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so brutally invested in this story! Finally got time to sit down and read all of it so far (admittedly because of sickness) and it did not disappoint. Now I’m anxiously awaiting what comes next! I have my suspicions but I’m scared to say what I think because it’s all so tragic.

Either way, now that she knows the first big reveal, I’m ready for steaminess! Maybe the sadness that plagues JK will be too strong to let it happen, but maybe some dreams…? I know this story is going to take us through the ringer regardless so I’ll buckle up. Also, his apartment…😭😭😭😭 broke my heart!!!!!! Hopefully whatever happened that has created such sadness for him will be resolved and made better. I can’t imagine JK being a bad guy, tho it seems like he’s being treated that way by a couple people, so we will see 😬

Our Time | JJK (Three)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.8k

Warnings: swearing, frustrations of amnesia, mentions of sex dream, mentions of alcohol

a/n: an important chapter 🤭 please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You are aware that everyone has something like a telltale tic that gives them away when they lie. Body language speaks louder than we think. Whole conversations happen with just the body alone. Arguments, comfort, affection, sex and even a fist to the face. The body speaks even when our mouths refuse. 

You’ve been told all your life that when you lie you always avoid eye contact and shrug awkwardly. Even with knowing that information, you still do it. Because your body speaks for you. Just like how you’ve told Jungkook for years that when he lies he always, without realization, touches or tugs at the skin of his neck while he speaks. His body moves on its own to speak without him having to do it himself. 

Of course there are times you don’t catch it. Heat of the moment, you can’t always observe every little detail and pick up on someone’s body language. But there are times when you do.

Jungkook has been quiet with you since he practically dragged you out of his apartment. No matter how gently he pulled you away from that place, you know when you’re not welcomed somewhere. The drive to your house is only five minutes—if that—but it feels like an eternity of dreaded silence. But his body is speaking. And it’s asking you not to ask any questions. 

It’s too bad that don’t have the patience for that. 

Having patience has never been a trait you’ve had and you doubt that’s changed in nine years either. 

“Jungkook.” You say his name as softly as you can but he still flinches, knuckles turning white from his grip on the steering wheel.

He lightly clears his throat before glancing your way, though his eyes never meet yours. “What’s up?” 

“Do you…” You keep your gaze on him, determined to get at least some answers to what you just saw. “Do you really live there?”

Jungkook’s grip stays the same, his body not tensing more nor tensing less. He expected this question. He keeps his eyes on the road as he answers you, “Yeah.” 

Truth.

“Oh.” You nod slowly, his answer almost throwing you off guard. You didn’t really plan what to say if he answered with ‘yes’. “I’m surprised.” You say honestly, “It barely looks lived in.” 

You watch Jungkook carefully but he stays the same. Tense, expectant, worried. 

You keep going, “Ah, but you are mostly having meals with me at my house so I guess that makes sense. You’re more at my place than yours, huh?” You tilt your head cutely, giving him the indication that you’re trying to lighten the mood and make him more comfortable. 

It works. Your eyes go to his hands and you see how his grip loosens and he’s nodding his head, though it looks hesitant. “Yeah, exactly.” He tells you but his eyes stay on the road still.

You nod, smile appearing on your face. “Exactly.” You repeat. 

He relaxes more as he turns into your neighborhood and he finally glances at you, eyes on yours for the first time since the apartment and he actually gives you a timid smile. 

You’ll take it. For now. But your curiosity is only growing. You know so much is being kept from you and it feels deeper than you first assumed. Jungkook is proving that. You have questions but you’ll have to be smart about how to get your answers.

“Hey,” You start conversation again, gently speaking once more and thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t flinch this time. He only turns his head to look at you for a second, raising his brows before his eyes go back to the road ahead. “Why don’t we still go to the park for ice cream?”

“Oh?” He looks a little surprised. You wonder if he’s surprised because you’re letting this entire apartment thing go. “You want to?”

“Mhm.” You lean back in the seat, legs stretching in front of you. “I read doing as many things as possible could help with this amnesia thing.” You didn’t actually read that but it sounds believable. “Let’s go or what?” You just want him to relax and smile again. 

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, his teeth lazily chewing his lips before he nods. “Yeah, that sounds good.” And then he releases a long breath and you swear you can see his nerves releasing as well. 

You study him for a moment longer, mind whirling in questions and assumptions. But you won’t allow yourself to come to any conclusions.

Not yet.

~

“I can’t believe I’m not friends with Jaewon anymore. I really thought we would be tight forever.” You say right before licking your double scoop ice cream. “Did we have a falling out?”

Jungkook chuckles, “Not at all. He got a girlfriend, moved to France and I think he’s been married for a while. I know they have two kids together.”

“Jaewon has children?!” You look at Jungkook, expressing your disbelief. “I remember when he and I went around looking for these adorable stickers that came with some snack to finish his impressive collection and,” You pause to lick your ice cream again. “He found only one cake left at the same time as these two kids. They were clearly wanting the stickers too. So I said, ‘hey why don’t we just give it to them?’ you know, because they’re just little kids. But he looked me dead in the eye and said ‘fuck them kids.’ And now he’s a father.” You snort, “Truly amazing.”

Jungkook laughs with you, “Isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to stalk him on Instagram when I remember.” You say while mindlessly licking your ice cream again before you remember another old friend. “What about Seri? Are we still friends with her?”

“Seri?” Jungkook tries to hide a peculiar smile. “Were you ever really friends with her?”

“I mean, kind of?” You shrug. “I’m guessing we aren’t close then?”

“y/n,” Jungkook hides his teasing smile behind his ice cream cone. “You never liked her.”

“What? Yes I do. She just annoyed me sometimes.” You quietly huff out, looking defensive.

“Why is that?”

“You know why,” You roll your eyes, bumping into his side. “Sometimes she took her crush on you too far. Like, it’s cool that she likes you—well, liked—but sometimes she made it her entire personality.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious! She is great other than that.”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay, wouldn’t you get annoyed too? I remember one time I was sick and instead of asking me if I was okay she asked if you were free to hang out then?!” 

Jungkook laughs at this, head thrown back before he shakes it. “That’s hilarious.”

“Sure.” You look displeased. “She has other good qualities though.” 

“Oh, y/n, y/n, y/n.” Jungkook puts a hand on your shoulder and he spills a little secret. “It’s okay, you don’t need to pretend. One time you admitted to me how you truly feel about her.”

You stop walking and he stops too, blinking at him in surprise. “I did?”

“Mhm,” He drops his hand and starts walking again, urging you to follow. “Years ago.”

“Oh.” You nod your head, feet moving again. “In that case, yeah, she also chewed with her mouth open all the freaking time. She talked way too much during movies and not to mention, she tried hooking me up with her brother! And we all knew he was trash.”

“Wait, Seri tried hooking you up with her brother?! He is literally in jail now.” Jungkook looks peeved, “You never told me that. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I think I planned on it. But wait, why is he in jail?”

“He’s a fucking creep.” Jungkook says, annoyed. “He paid for prostitution, got mixed up in drugs…honestly, the list goes on.” 

“Well, not surprised.” 

“None of us were.” Jungkook agrees, “But anyway, back to Seri.”

“You know she told me that you two made out at Misuk’s 22nd birthday party. I always meant to ask you about it.” You mention this as easygoing as possible. “So did you guys? If so, you definitely made her dreams come—”

“—You definitely did ask me about this,” Jungkook cuts you off, his tone is lighthearted. “Much later, but yeah, you asked.”

“Oh.”

He glances at you and smiles, “I was never interested in Seri. You know me, I didn’t hook up with anyone I wasn’t seriously interested in.”

“I guess.” Your eyes trail across the park, landing on a pond nearby. “Oh! Let’s go over there.” You point at the small body of water before continuing your conversation, “Anyway, what’s Seri up to now?”

“No clue. I don’t follow her on anything.” He hums, “But do you remember her friend Mijoo?”

“Mijoo…wait, the girl who was dating the guy that Subin is into? Wait, I mean was into since she clearly isn’t anymore. You know, with a whole marriage coming up.” 

“Yeah!” Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your wrist to lead you to the pond, “You like this side of the pond better.” He tells you as he guides to the other side where some trees are. “Anyway, Mijoo ended up marrying that guy. But the point is, she works at the company you work at. You two aren’t close but I think you were acquaintances before you started working from home.”

“Oh.” You nod in understanding, “That’s cool!”

Jungkook is offering information about your life. Maybe because he believes it’s harmless.

You two stroll through tall grass that sways left to right, completely abandoning the concrete path. The sun is setting now, the sky a mix of pinks and purples while the sun is a deep, glowing orange. You and Jungkook finish off your ice creams before getting closer to the water.

“It’s pretty, right?” Jungkook stares out over the calm water. “We can see the sun set here.”

“Do we come here often? It kind of feels familiar.” You admit to him, heart picking up but you can’t place why.

Jungkook doesn’t tear his eyes off the sky or the water, his mind figuring out an answer when he settles for, “Sometimes.”

Truth.

“Do you…” You focus on the feeling in your chest. You can’t tell if it’s discomfort or if it just feels unknown. “Do you like it here?” You ask, voice quieter than before. You aren’t sure why you even asked that, really.

Jungkook’s chest stops moving. Like he is suddenly holding his breath and it doesn’t go unseen by you. “I don’t know.” He finally answers. Tongue pushing against his cheek and you know, like usual, it means he doesn’t intend to elaborate. 

“Then—”

Suddenly, Jungkook chuckles to himself. “—By the way, when you were like 27 you got us kicked out of a bar.”

“Huh?” You stare at him, his eyes still on the water. “Why did I get us kicked out?” And why is he bringing it up?

“Some random guy tried to fight me.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I didn’t even notice that he had beef with me. Anyway, you noticed.” He cracks a smile. “And you tried to fight him in my honor or something.”

You stare at him, bewildered. “No way.”

“I’m serious,” He turns his head to face you, big smile growing on his lips. “You hated the way he talked to me, I guess. And before I knew it you were pushing him and claiming he was going to hit me.” He starts cracking up. “I had no idea, seriously.”

“Wow, I am so cool.” You nod subtly, “Best friend of the century.”

Jungkook’s smile goes from big and wide to soft and shy. “You are.” Then he rolls his eyes. “But the guy was friends with the staff so they kicked us out instead of him.”

“Of course.” You roll your eyes too, giggling. 

You realize he isn’t just telling you things he believes would be harmless. No, that’s not it. He’s telling you things to compensate for the fact he’s not really telling you anything. He’s feeding you stories to distract from his own story. The one you’re more curious about and you know he knows that.

You both share a moment looking out at the pond. Water as calm and still as can be. The complete opposite of whatever is going on with your heart. There’s something about this place that feels so familiar but you can’t place it and it drives you crazy.

You only see the top half of the sun now, the bottom half dipped into the horizon and the sky is lacking as many colors as a dark and deep blue starts taking over and a few stars start to shine.

“This looks like the perfect place to share secrets.” The words spill mindlessly from your mouth before you feel your entire body go as still as the water. 

‘Doesn’t this place make you want to share secrets?’ ‘Oh? What secret should I share with you?’ ‘Something juicy.’ ‘How about the first time I—’ 

“y/n?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “y/n…” His hand comes to your shoulder and you feel his worried gaze on you. But you can’t focus on that.

You’re trying to focus on breathing again.

What was that?

Sunset. Another sunset. Water. Ducks. Rain. Sunshine. You. Jungkook. Tree. 

You try to make sense of what you’re seeing in your head. The voices. Your voice. Jungkook’s voice. You and him. Here. 

You stare at the water, blinking fast now as you try to make sense of the images in your head. Suddenly, you’re breathing. But you’re breathing too much.

“Hey,” Jungkook steps in front of you, both hands on your shoulders. You find his eyes and you find comfort immediately. 

Was that your imagination? Did you remember something? Did you brain make that up? You swear that felt real…felt like it’s happened.

“J-Jungkook.” You feel the panic set in. Your lips tingle and your hands are growing sweaty. “I think I kind of…” You pause, mouth going so dry it feels impossible to speak. You urge yourself to calm down but you only feel anxious. This feels new—brand new—unknown and scary. 

“Hey, hey.” Jungkook rubs his fingers into your shoulders, “Okay, it’s okay.” He remains calm, his voice smooth and steady but the concern is evident in his eyes. “I’m here.”

You nod your head quickly, trying to let him know you understand but you feel lightheaded. “Please hug me.” You request almost silently. “Plea—”

Jungkook brings you close to him, your body melting against his. You inhale him as you breathe and his scent automatically gives you a sense of comfort but almost instantly it feels like ten different images start shooting through your brain. All hugs with Jungkook. All ten images are different scenarios of Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you. Even some you recognize…like the hug he gave you the day he thanked you for coming to his police academy graduation. And one hug you don’t recognize at all.

Overwhelmed, you push Jungkook away.

“Sorry, I just…” You mumble, eyes darting around the park. “I think I know this place.”

Jungkook tries his hardest not to frown but he does. “You’ve been here a lot.” He says, almost nervously. “I thought it would be a place to…” He stops, eyes falling to his empty hands. “There’s a lot of memories here so I thought—”

“—Are some of those memories not good?” You ask him, trying to keep your voice calm.

“Not every memory that lives lost in your head is a good one.” He says, his voice just as calm. “But I am here with you for every single one.” He lifts his eyes back to you. “I promise.”

For the first time, you don’t want to avoid a memory because it could be overwhelming. You’re suddenly wanting to stay away because you’re starting to gather that not everything is rainbows and sunshine. Not just your life but other’s lives as well. Your best friend for instance.

“Hey,” Jungkook walks closer to you again, his hands finding your hands. His fingers playing with your fingers and the touch feels like how you yearn for. You don’t remember it ever feeling this way. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He says quietly, his voice only for you. “There are so many good things running around in your brain and I can’t wait for you to know them.”

You might be curious about a million things right now. But 24 year old you, with a huge crush on this man before you, has something else to be curious about.

What exactly is your relationship with Jeon Jungkook? Because this feels like something you know, you just don’t know it yet.

~

You know it has to be around 9pm by now. The sun has long set and the night sky is dark and cloudy but it feels nice. Jungkook parks in front of your house and you know his intention is to just drop you off because he doesn’t make a move to turn off the engine or take his seatbelt off. Usually it would be fine—going home by yourself for the night—but you imagine your best friend returning to his apartment and the thought makes your heart pinch.

“Want to stay the night?” You throw out the idea with obvious enthusiasm. “It’s Friday!”

“Stay the night?” He repeats your question quietly, eyes looking ahead. 

“Yeah.” You finally reach to unbuckle the seat belt that feels tight against your chest. “I don’t really want to hang out by myself. I’m still wide awake.” You try to give a solid reason. “You don’t want to keep being with me?”

Jungkook’s head immediately turns in your direction and his eyes are big and guilty on you. “No, no.” He shakes his head now, “That’s not…of course,” He pauses, gulping down his spit before continuing. “Of course I’d still love to be with you, y/n.” He tells you, eyes still looking guilty. “Is that what you want?”

You feel it’s a bit easier to breathe. Because the seatbelt is no longer caging you in? Or because he still wants to be with you? Either way, you’re content. “Yeah.” You say, nodding in the direction of your house. “Let’s go inside and have tea or something. We can watch a movie.”

Jungkook nods slowly, his fingers messing with the buckle of the seatbelt before he’s getting out of his own restraint. “Okay.” And then he’s turning off the car.

You both walk to your front door in silence, side by side and you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside your belly. You cringe at yourself and laugh internally because why does it feel like the kind of nerves you have after a first date? 

You walk slowly and so does he. He’s right next to you and you feel fucking nervous. And you know what doesn’t help? When his knuckles barely brush against yours on fucking accident and you both quickly bring your hands to yourselves. How strange. How awkward. But also, how interesting.

Once inside your home, you head to the kitchen to make some tea. Jungkook accompanies you but he’s only sitting at the counter, fingers laced on top as he stares down at his hands in silence. Since waking up from the coma, you have felt a strong, lingering sadness inside of Jungkook but lately, especially after today, you feel it’s only gotten stronger.

You blame yourself, of course. He’s your best friend and you know with everything that has happened that he’s taken it hard. You don’t blame him, you have lost nine years of your important friendship with him and you imagine that must be tough for him to live with. But what really worries you is that he lives alone in an apartment that feels like the furthest thing from a ‘home’ and he isn’t able to talk to you about it. Is he afraid he would overwhelm you?

“Here.” You slide a cup of tea across the granite countertop. “It’s hot, though.”

“Thanks.” He murmurs, eyes lifting to yours and you wish you could make the apparent sadness in them go away. 

You decide to lighten the mood with a small, teasing grin. “See? I can do things for you too!”

Jungkook’s big eyes only look more sad as he responds, “You always do things for me, y/n.”

“Ah really?” You keep your gaze on him, grin falling into a tender smile. “Like what? What’s something that I’ve done for you that I have no idea?”

Jungkook cracks a half smile, “You’re trying to get things out of me, huh?”

You respond with a smirk, “Tell me something harmless, Jungkook.” 

Jungkook hums out cutely, eyes narrowing before he reaches for the cup of tea and blowing on it, eyes locking with yours, taking his sweet time as you wait. 

“Oh, come on.” You place your elbows to the counter and lean your chin into your palms, “I can handle it.” 

“Okay.” He says before taking a small sip of the tea. “I was working really late one night…on a really important case.” Jungkook stares down at the cup of tea in his hands before setting it back down. A certain look flashes across his face but he shakes it off. “I was so stressed and you showed up out of nowhere. I swear, the only times Jimin smiled at work is when you’d show up.” He rolls his eyes at this, “But anyway, you showed up with takeout and homemade cookies. And you hung out with me for a while to kind of,” He pauses to think about it. “I don’t know, I think you just wanted to distract me from the stress for a while before I got back into work.”

“Homemade cookies?” You tilt your head, “Since when do I bake?”

He chuckles, “You got pretty good at baking.”

“Oh wow.”

“Anyway, I remember when I thought I finally got a good idea on how to crack the particular case and I didn’t even have to tell you anything.” He bites down onto his bottom lip, perhaps suppressing a smile. “I swear you saw the look on my face and you knew immediately. You left me to it and I got the furthest I had ever gotten. Anyway, I swear I wouldn’t have without you showing up that night to kind of get me out of my head so I could have fresh thoughts, I guess.”

“Wow, I’m amazing. I’m like your support detective.” You soften, dopey smile growing on your lips. “I should have become one too.” You say, obviously joking.

“Well, you’d be good at it.” He tells you, fingers wrapping around the warm tea cup again. “You’re the whole reason I wanted to become a detective, anyway.”

Your eyebrows climb up your forehead in genuine shock, “W-What?”

“Oh, right.” Jungkook’s eyes stay on the tea. “I didn’t tell you that until years later, huh?”

 You straighten your posture and point at yourself, “I’m the reason?”

Jungkook’s eyes stay lingering on the cup in his hands, “Yeah.”

“Can I ask why?”

He finally tears his eyes off the cup and looks at you with a smile, “I’d expect you to.”

You stare at him in complete awe, your dopey smile returning to your face. “Okay then—”

Suddenly, your phone is ringing in your pocket. You’re quick to slide it out and see who is calling you and you glance at Jungkook in apology when you show him the screen to show Misuk is calling. 

“Hello?” You answer on the fifth ring.

“Hey!” Misuk sings out, “Sorry it’s kind of late but Subin and I were thinking of having breakfast at that café she likes. Want to come? Like 10ish?”

“Oh,” You look at Jungkook again, his attention on the tea. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Can Jungkook come too?” You ask, innocence in your voice but Jungkook looks up at you immediately, worry in his eyes before he’s shaking his head. 

“Umm,” Misuk is quiet on the other end for a moment before continuing, “I was thinking it could be a girls thing?”

“Since when did we only do girls stuff and exclude—”

“It’s okay.” Jungkook whispers to you, head still shaking. 

“Fine,” You keep your eyes on him, “Girls thing it is.”

“It’ll be fun! The three of us!” Misuk tells you, “I’ll text when I’m on the way in the morning. See you then.”

“Okay, see you. Bye.” You lower the phone from your ear, pressing the ‘end’ button before placing your phone on the counter. “Sorry, it’s a girls thing.”

“It’s okay!” Jungkook gives you a trying smile. “You should spend time, just you three. They’ve missed you, too.”

“Yeah,” You nod at him. “I guess you’re right.”

“Should we watch a movie now?” Jungkook stands from the stool, taking his cup of tea with him. 

“Ugh, another movie to spark a memory, huh?” You watch as he makes his way to the living room, your feet dragging behind him. 

Jungkook turns only for a moment, “No. An old movie we both love. A movie you already know.”

You can guess why, but the pressure to not try hard to remember something you’re supposed to know suddenly makes you feel so much lighter. And Jungkook probably knows you’ve had enough for the day. “Perfect.” You answer, “That sounds perfect.”

~~~

Waking up drenched in sweat in not how you expected to greet this Saturday morning’s sun. You lay here, eyes wide and on the ceiling trying your hardest to replay the dream you just had. You aren’t laying here trying your best to rewatch a nightmare. No, that’s not why you woke up with sweat gathered at your hairline and a racing heartbeat. You’re trying so hard to replay every little detail of this dream because it was hot. Steamy, sexy hot. Not hot as in heat and that’s why you’re sweating. 

You close your eyes, images of the dream swarming behind your eyelids. Hands. Hands all over you. Lips. Lips all over you. Tongue. Tongue all over you. Your eyes spring open again, your chest still heaving from the dream as you try to dive back into it. But the dream is fading. And it’s fading fast. Suddenly, you can’t remember any of the details anymore. And it pisses you off. 

After showering and getting ready for your breakfast hang out with the girls, you quietly slip out of your bedroom. You walk through the hall and you stop dead in your tracks when you spot Jungkook. He’s innocently sleeping on your sofa, mouth slightly hung open as soft snores escape. He looks peaceful. You swallow hard, your fingers smoothing down your blouse as you keep watching him. 

How would Jungkook feel knowing you just had a very steamy sex dream about him? His hands, his lips, his tongue. Lucky for him—and lucky for you—you don’t remember too much about it anymore. But you know the dream happened. But as much as you wish you could remember every little detail and play it in your mind on repeat to fulfill some delusional fantasy of yours…you’re actually glad that it can’t distract you for the rest of the day.

Because it fucking would.

You check the time on your phone.

9:32am

You need to head out. You take one last look at sleeping Jungkook before turning on your heels to grab your purse, shoes and keys to your car. You have yet to drive your own vehicle so it’ll feel a bit fun—brand new car to you—and Dr. Lee says you can drive short distances now.

You pull into the same café that Subin brought you to that one time, eyes on the lookout for a parking spot but it is Saturday morning and it’s looking busy. Finally, after driving in circles, you see someone pulling out and you rush to take the free spot. 

Inside the café is just as busy as the parking lot. Tons of full tables, servers running around in panic about some wrong order and the hostess remaining calm as customers complain about the long wait. Luckily, Subin and Misuk got here before you and they already have a table. Somewhere near the back again, by the bathrooms. 

You spot Subin, waving her hands around with a huge smile on her face. You return her smile while walking closer to the table that her and Misuk are at. 

But you run into someone—literally.

“Oh sorry!” You apologize quickly, “I—” You stop speaking when the same feeling as last time comes back to haunt you. You glance down at the name tag again.

Nabi.

“Oh…no, no.” She shakes her head, smile on her lips. “It’s okay. Really…it’s okay…” She tells you, her eyes suddenly looking everywhere but you. Her voice is soft and kind. And so fucking familiar. 

“You’re the one who served us last time.” You tell her, trying your best to make eye contact. “You probably don’t remember—”

“—Ah, no. I remember.” Nabi finally looks at you and there is undeniable kindness in her eyes as well but there is also something else. She glances around again, her eyes going to other tables, to the windows, behind her, behind you…before she finally looks at you again. You see concern in her eyes. “Have a lovely meal.” She says quickly, bowing her head before walking off. 

Weird.

You shake off the familiar feeling before approaching the table your friends are at.

“Hey!” You call out, still a feet few away before you’re pulling a free chair out and sitting down. “This place is poppin’, huh?” You say while glancing around. 

“Yeah.” Subin agrees right away, “Crazy, right? It’s only been open for like, what? Two years probably? I saw a Tik Tok about it and had to check it out.”

“Not even going to ask about whatever Tik Tok is.” You mumble, eyes going down to the menu in your hands.

“I told you about it!” Subin whines, “You need to download it!”

“Eh,” You shrug. “33 year old me is off social media apparently. I’m trying to respect her wishes.” You joke, eyes scanning the menu when you see an omelet that catches your eye.

“And how is 24 year old you liking that?” Misuk chuckles, “Are you surviving?”

“Somehow I am.” You laugh as well before your mind thinks of something else…”Hey…do you guys know why I deleted my social media?” You look up from your menu, “I didn’t think much of it but,” You look between your two friends but they don’t have any answers written on their faces. “Well, Jungkook mentioned it was maybe around six months ago…and here’s the crazy thing…I ran into this guy who said I randomly ghosted him around the same time!” 

Misuk’s brows pinch together, “A guy?” She then glances at Subin who looks as confused as her.

“Yeah!” You nod quickly, “I thought maybe he was an ex. So I started connecting the dots! Maybe we broke up and I wanted to lay low after the breakup? And that’s why I del—”

“—A breakup?” Subin asks, her eyes going between you and Misuk. “I don’t think you were…dating anyone…” She says slowly, carefully. Eyes darting between you and Misuk and you can see how she’s silently asking Misuk to help out. And as usual, Misuk doesn’t get the hint.

“Maybe I just didn’t want to make a big deal about it?” You question more to yourself. “Maybe I was trying to be lowkey…”

“Did you tell Jungkook?” Misuk finally contributes. “Did he know who the guy was?”

“Huh?” You finally set the menu down to the table. “No, he wasn’t with me. And when I mentioned it, he had no idea either.” 

“Well, I feel just as clueless.” Subin admits softly. “Maybe the guy got the wrong girl.”

“No,” You look down, teeth nibbling on your lips. “I think he knew me.”

“Well, maybe it just isn’t important.” Misuk decides to say, her eyes going back to the menu. “What’s important is you regaining memories that probably matter more.”

“Workin’ on it, boss.” You say blandly, with the roll of your eyes. 

“Hey,” Misuk’s tone grows softer. “I know.”

“Anyway,” You shake your head and plaster a smile on your face. “Subin, your pictures were this week, right?”

And immediately, Subin’s face brightens. You love how in love she looks. “Yes! Oh my god, I have a few that the photographer sent me. Let me show you!” She is quickly grabbing her phone and finding the photos. 

You take her phone and start scrolling through a few images. Your heart melts at the sight…Subin looks gorgeous in the arms of her soon to be husband. You don’t even remember his name. And his face in these photos definitely don’t ring a bell.  “You look amazing.” You breathe out, “And so happy.”

“Thanks.” Subin blushes at the compliment, “Garam is the love of my life. And I can’t believe we waited this long to get married and what not!”

“Well, we all know y/n doesn’t believe in wasting any time when she knows something is right.” Misuk chuckles, “Remember when she switched her major the second she realized she loved digital art more than environmental science?”

“Oh yeah,” Subin covers her mouth while she giggles. “She didn’t even have experience in it, right? But she looked us in the eyes and said, ‘I’m going to do this as my career.’ And the next day went to her advisor and made the switch.”

“What can I say?” You smile, feeling proud. “I knew it in my gut that it was what I was meant to do.”  

“I also remember that Subin and I were so against it.” Misuk shakes her head, still smiling. “We asked you to at least think about it!”

“I swear maybe she would have thought about it but Jungkook was totally on her side.” Subin sighs out, “He took one look at what she created on her tablet and said—”

“Isn’t this what you’re meant to do?” You say, almost dreamily as you remember your best friend’s words. “He even went with me when I went to talk to my advisor. He waited outside the door and when I was finished he took me drinking to celebrate.”

“Went drinking?” Misuk avoids your eyes, “Not surprised.” 

“Misuk.” Subin says quietly before brightening again. “How are things with Jungkook? He’s taking care of you?”

“He’s the best.”

“The best.” Misuk scoffs.

“Misuk.” Subin says her name louder this time. “It’s—”

“—I don’t know what went wrong with you and Jungkook, Misuk.” You cut in, face falling more serious. “But Jungkook is my person and I hate seeing how you clearly have beef with him. He’s being civil so why can’t you be?”

An inevitable silence falls on the table. As well as inevitable tension. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your fiery nerves. “Just tell me what happened already. I can’t stand—”

“No.” Misuk says, voice calm but there is something cold to it. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Why?” 

She looks at Subin who is, as usual, speaking with her eyes. “I just can’t.” Misuk tells you, finally looking your way. “Nothing would make sense anyway. Let’s just drop it. I’m sorry.”

You scoff. And you scoff loudly. “Okay.” You feel peeved but you don’t want to ruin the breakfast. “I’m going to use the bathroom really quickly.” You begin standing from your chair and point towards the wall behind you three where the bathrooms are.

Neither of them answer with words. 

You walk into the hallway and immediately lean against the wall, sighing out quietly as you try to remain calm. You hate not knowing what’s going—in regards to so many things. Your ears perk up when you can hear Subin and Misuk’s voices from behind the wall.

“You need to go easier on him, Misuk…” You hear Subin’s quiet voice. “This has been hard on everyone. But especially—”

“—Good.” You hear Misuk cut her off bitterly. “I hope he’s fucking suffering.”

Your entire face twists into a look of confusion…what the hell is happening?

“You don’t mean that.” Subin says. “He’s your friend too.”

“Why are you always defending him?”

“I’m not. But we don’t even really know—”

“Drop it, Subin. It gets us nowhere.” 

And then there’s silence. Like their own inevitable tension rises around the table now too. 

You finally tear yourself away from the wall and go inside the restroom. More questions and even less answers. Great.

~

It’s already late afternoon when you return home, tired eyes land on Jungkook who is on the phone while sitting on your sofa. You raise a hand to lazily wave at him and he nods at you while he continues to speak on the phone.

“I know.” He talks into the phone quietly, “You swear he has—Okay, okay. Got it. I can be there in 20.” Jungkook doesn’t even wait for the other person to respond before he’s ending the call. “Hey.” He stands, slipping his phone in his pocket and smiling at you. “How was time with the girls?”

You eye him suspiciously. It feels like how you’re seeing everyone nowadays. “Fine.” You look down at your feet as you take your shoes off. “What have you been up to?”

“Just relaxing.” He tells you, “Working on some stuff too.” He glances at his open laptop that sits on your sofa as well. “But I actually got to head out for a while.”

“Sure.” You respond, feeling and sounding detached. You walk into the living room but before you can sit down, Jungkook’s fingers wrap around your wrist and you struggle not to look into his eyes and crumble. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook questions you softly. His fingers still wrapped around your wrist and you swear you feel the heat seep into your skin, like the feeling of first dipping into a hot bubble bath. “You okay? Tired? How’s your head?”

You don’t mean to pull away so quickly, freeing your wrist without much thought. “I’m fine.” 

Jungkook’s brows pull together, his eyes going to his fingers when he examines how empty his hand is now. “O…kay.” His eyes go back to you, “Are you sure?” “No.” You say honestly. “But it’s whatever.”

“It’s not whatever.” Jungkook steps closer to you, his eyes searching yours for answers. “Talk to me, y/n.” He doesn’t rip his gaze off your eyes. He’s staring at you intently and it feels so confusing. “Please…talk to me.”

You feel sucked into the way he’s looking at you. You see his concern so clearly. You see so many thoughts and feelings taking over his eyes and you can read them but some don’t make sense. Not now. You force yourself to look away.

“I said I’m fine.” You sit on the couch, hand going to the top of his laptop and you shut it yourself. “Aren’t you leaving?” 

Jungkook stands here, unsure of what to do. You can see that. You can see how he struggles with how to handle this. You stare at nothing. Hoping there isn’t any readable expression on your face. But you guess there is.

“Y/n…” Jungkook says your name. And suddenly you wish you forgot that too. 

“What?” You finally snap at him, eyes landing on his figure. But you gulp, guilt settling in your chest when you see how he winces. You close your eyes for just a moment, collecting yourself even though you don’t even want to. “I’m so—”

“—Don’t be sorry.” He cuts you off, tone gentle. “It’s okay if you can’t talk to me but is there anything I could do? To help you?”

You open your eyes again, staring at him. You just stare. Expression hardening because you can’t help it at this point. But Jungkook takes no offense. Instead he tries to smile for you and he takes a seat right next to you, his leg pushed against yours.

“What is it that you need?” His fingers go to your chin, barely touching it as he guides your face to tilt in his direction. “Tell me what you need.” He softly demands, eyes boring into yours and you feel trapped in his trance again.

“You.” You reveal without meaning to. You never intended for that to be your answer. But your mouth forced the word out and you’re left here wondering why that felt so natural. 

Natural for both of you.

Because Jungkook nods in understanding, his fingers brushing against your cheek now and you decide now is the time to crumble. Crumble because his touch. And crumble because you are best friends so answering that the thing you need is him could also still be platonic. You release a long, tired breath before your head falls to his shoulder. “I’m stressed.” You decide to admit.

“I know.” His other arm comes around your back, hand gripping your side. “I’m sorry this is so hard for you. I really don’t know what to do anymore.” He is the one with admissions now. “I see how hard this is for you and I don’t know what’s better or what’s worse…but these are still doctor’s orders, y/n. You—”

“—I know.” You squeeze your eyes shut, “But what if my memories never return? Am I just going to be a stranger to my own life forever? Your life forever?”

Silence fills the space between you both. 

Maybe it’s not something either of you want to have answers to. 

“I never want to be a stranger to you.” He finally responds, “But let’s give some things some time.”

You sigh out, lifting your head from his shoulder before you look up at him. “Can you promise me something?”

Jungkook gives you a determined nod before speaking, “I can promise you anything.”

“Do you promise this is the best for me? Me not knowing so much?” Your eyes are pleading and you swear you see Jungkook’s heart in his eyes and you see how it breaks into pieces.

“I promise you that this is best for you.” He tells you, no regret anywhere heard in his words. Truth. “So promise me…that you’ll always trust me.”

“Okay.”

“No,” He shakes his head, troubled smile on his face. “Say it.”

“I promise.” You tell him but his troubled smile only grows as his eyes turn somber.

“You will probably break that promise later.” He whispers, “I—”

His phone starts vibrating in his pocket. Another phone call. “Sorry,” He slides the device out and you see Jimin’s name. “I got to go.” He sighs, standing from the sofa now. “But I’ll come over after and we’ll do something fun, okay?”

You nod, “Okay. Umm,”

“What is it?” He asks you.

“Nothing, nothing.” You try to shake his last words out of your head. Why would he say that? “Be safe and come back to me later.”

Jungkook’s eyes expand at your words before he cracks a smile. “I always do.”

~

You fixed yourself something light and easy for dinner. Surprisingly, you had an appetite to eat. You could probably thank the four hour nap you took earlier and the two different sessions you had in your bed where your fingers met the sensitive parts of your body, having yourself come undone and although you feel like some tension has been released…it wasn’t totally satisfying. 

You’ll blame the dream that you can’t even remember for the ache between your legs that still lingers.

You’re sitting at the dining room table, plate growing emptier as you take one last bite of your late dinner. It’s around 8:30pm and Jungkook still isn’t back. You assume he’s off doing something with Jimin. His ex-work partner that you realize he isn’t necessarily fond of. But they’re clearly working together on something…despite the fact that Jungkook isn’t a detective anymore.

Of course this piques your interest. You’re dying of curiosity. You have an idea…but…

You sigh out, pushing the chair back and ignoring the way the wood screeches against your tiled kitchen floors. Once standing, you grab your plate and the glass of water and head towards the kitchen sink to run the hot water.

A couple minutes pass, your hand lazily squeezing the sponge as you scrub the plate clean, your eyes zoned out and focusing on nothing at all. You continue to scrub the plate in soapy circles before you suddenly see something in your head. Eyes narrowing at nothing now as you try to focus on the image that your brain has randomly come up with. The same lake and boats from your dream. You’re just recalling an old dream. You scoff to yourself, you wish you could remember your sex dream.

You laugh a little before it dies on your lips when you see another image that makes no sense. 

A boat, floating at the dock. It isn’t the same boat from your dream…a different—

You drop the plate to the sink when your ears ring in someone’s scream. 

What the fuck?

You look around quickly, but you’re met with silence. You wipe your hands on the towel that rests next to the sink, quickly drying them before rushing out of your kitchen and going to your front door.

You know you heard someone scream.

You swing the door open, stepping outside, your head whipping in every direction.

But the neighborhood looks unbothered, the stars in the sky look unbothered, the blades of grass look unbothered. You see a few houses down, an older couple sitting on their porch, quietly talking and laughing to themselves. Completely unbothered.

Someone screamed, right? You heard it, right? 

You remain outside for a few more moments but the night carries on like nothing happened.

You didn’t imagine the scream, right? You know you heard it. You were standing at your kitchen sink, washing dishes, remembering a dream about boats on the lake water…when someone screamed. That wasn’t part of your dream, right? But it sounded so real. 

Giving up, you decide to go back inside your house. But a strange, eerie feeling sticks to your skin and you want nothing more than to wash it off. A shower it is. Maybe Jungkook will be back by the time you’re done and you can forget about all the things your brain is forcing onto you—things that don’t make any sense at all.

It’s around 9:30pm now when you leave your bedroom, feet taking you into the living room so you can relax on your amazing sofa…you’re shocked now that you hated it at first glance. It’s definitely the best couch you’ve ever had the pleasure of owning. A dull pain resides on the other side of your skull, pushing against your forehead in rage. You wish the headaches would start to ease but it seems lately, they’ve only gotten worse.

You decide to go to the kitchen first and take your night dose of medications, realizing it’s time you can take them. Hopefully it’ll help. It’s been a long day and you can’t wait to totally unwind and grow invested in some TV show so you don’t have to think about your own life. And you can’t wait for Jungkook to get home so he can do that with you. He looks stressed too and he probably also needs to focus on some fictional problems instead of his own.

Once you’re cozy on your sofa, wrapped in the blanket Jungkook always uses, you check your phone for any messages and you feel yourself grow a little warmer when you do have one.

Jungkook 9:38pm

Hey I’m on my way to your house 👍🏼 Want me to bring you anything?

You smile, typing your reply.

y/n 9:44pm

no no just you🐸

You click your phone off and shake your head, laughing at yourself. All it takes for you to feel better is Jungkook. You’re so whipped, probably. 

It only takes Jungkook 24 minutes exactly to walk in through your door since his text. Not that you were paying attention to the time but of course you were. You missed him.

“You’re not sleepy yet?” Jungkook is bent over, looking at you through the fringe that falls over his eyes as he takes his shoes off. “I figured you’d be knocked out on the couch by the time I got here and then oh no, I’d have to sleep in the bed.” He jokes, making his way over to you.

“I took a long nap.” You say, eyes on the TV. “So I’m not very sleepy now.”

Jungkook’s lips curve into a soft smile, “Did the nap help make you feel a little better?”

You finally glance at him, “Yeah. Also,” You nod towards the hallway, “You can sleep in a bed. You just choose not to.”

Jungkook’s smile fades, his eyes following yours, a solemn expression falling onto his face when he looks over to the hallway. “No, that’s okay.” He murmurs. “I like the couch.” And then he takes a seat right next to you.

“Does that mean you’re sleeping over again tonight?” 

He blinks at you for a few seconds before he’s smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t even think about that.”

You laugh, “I’d rather you be here, anyway. Your apartment is too far for my liking. Doesn’t feel like we’re neighbors enough.” 

Jungkook’s eyes are so soft on you. You hate it. You love it. You want more of it. You want less of it. 

“It feels a little colder out tonight.” He says, fingers tugging at the blanket that’s wrapped around you. “Mind sharing?”

You chuckle, unwrapping the blanket from yourself to share with your best friend. “Do you remember when we rented that cabin in college but you and I wanted the outdoors experience so we built a tent like 10 feet away from the cabin?” 

“You only packed one sleeping bag.” He deadpans. 

“You could have gone inside and got blankets if you really cared that much!” You throw back and he shakes his head in an instant.

“Then it wouldn’t have been the total outdoorsy camping experience!” He retorts, “It would have defeated the whole point of us building that tiny tent. That you claimed you knew how to build because of a YouTube tutorial.”

“And I swear I did! But we had no service! So I couldn’t look at the video…” You pout but Jungkook starts laughing.

“And then we had to actually read the instructions. Imagine that.” He rolls his eyes, playful smirk on his lips. “Well, I did. You wanted to give up.”

“Anyway,” You nudge his shoulder with yours, both of you completely covered in this blanket now. “This reminds me of that time.”

“Because we shared the sleeping bag?” He asks you innocently. 

You nod, “Yeah. I thought we were going to freeze to death at night but I learned really quickly how freaking hot your body is.”

“Oh, thank you.” He teases.

You snort, “Not what I meant.”

“It’s not like you don’t think that too, though.” He says, eyes on the TV screen now. 

You whip your head to look at him, his eyes totally avoiding yours as he watches whatever you have pulled up on Netflix. He’s got such a teasing grin splitting his face in half. You stare at him in disbelief before you start laughing, “Wow. Is that something I told you and I have zero memory of it? And don’t lie, once I get all my memories back, I’ll know.” 

“You might be surprised at what stuff you might remember.” He continues to tease you and it feels…strange yet familiar. More of your suspicions seem to be checking out. 

“Is that so?” You decide to play along, “What kinds of things will I remember? You know, that are in relation to you thinking you have a hot body?”

“I never said it’s what I thought.” He bites down onto his bottom lip, another smirk being poorly concealed. 

You scoff, heat creeping up the back of your neck. “It’s not what I think either.”

“Mhm.” He finally looks at you, “You sure?” 

No, you aren’t sure. Well, you are sure that he’s hot. Yes, of course. But you aren’t sure what is going on here. More confusion wraps around you both just like this blanket. This doesn’t feel how you always remembered. No, this feels different. But it feels familiar. Like it isn’t totally brand new but it is. For you. But you’re wondering if this is brand new to him.

Yes, you have your suspicions. And little by little, you will uncover the truth. But for now, you’re not going to jump the gun. No conclusions yet.

“Hey,” You finally look away from him, eyes going back to the TV as well. “Are you sure we never went to another lake?”

“Lake?” Jungkook’s attention is mostly on the show now. “What lake?”

“No…I mean, was the only time we ever went to a lake was during that trip to the cabin?”

“Yes?” He finally glances at you, confusion in his eyes. “Why?”

You shrug, “I don’t know. I feel like I was remembering that dream I told you about where I saw your tattoo. That same lake…the boats.” 

“It was a dream, right?”

You think about it for a moment, eyes losing focus. “Yeah, you’re right.” But you aren’t so sure. 

“I told my parents and your parents that we would visit not next weekend but the weekend after. They’re very excited.” Jungkook changes the subject, his tone lighthearted. “It’ll be so nice to be in Busan for the weekend.”

“I agree.” You say, your eyes widening when you remember something your mom told you. “Did you know Mrs. Jung remarried? Apparently to a guy half her age!” 

Jungkook starts laughing, eyes crinkling in the process. “Yes and did you hear the best part?” He asks, eyes on you. “Apparently the guy she married has the same last name as her ex-husband so she didn’t even have to change it.” 

“Wow, lucky her.” You chuckle, “I don’t remember my mom saying that part.” 

“It’s hilarious. I thought the guy was her son when I first saw them walking out of her house! But imagine my shock when he kissed her. On the lips. I still didn’t register it wasn’t her son so you can probably guess my confusion and level of disturbance.” Jungkook shudders when he recalls the memory. “Mrs. Jung is loaded though, so I guess he’s the lucky one.”

“Jungkook!” You slap his thigh, “Money isn’t everything! Maybe he’s deeply in love with her!”

“I never said he wasn’t! I’m just saying, he got lucky. Sugar mama and all that.” He snickers when you gape at him. “What? I’d love having a woman pay for all my shit.”

“You’re a gold digger now?” You cock a brow at him. “I’ll have to keep that in mind when I’m being your wing woman at bars again.”

“You’re the worst wing woman.” He rolls his eyes, “Every girl that would get interested in me, you’d scare them away.”

“I did not!” 

“Yeah, you would.” 

“No.”

“Really?” He leans away from you, eyes narrowed as he smirks. “You don’t remember when a very pretty girl tried hitting it off with me but you totally ruined it when you—”

“—I thought she was bothering you. Don’t get me started on this again. She had so many red flags, you cannot be serious. I was helping you out.”

“I didn’t care about her red flags! I was just looking to get laid.” 

“I thought you didn’t hook up with anyone you weren’t seriously interested in?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he starts talking nonsense, clearly getting playfully defensive. “Do I need to remind you why I was out in the first place?” He challenges you. “Because if I remember correctly, you told me I should go out and find someone! You told me I needed to get laid because I was annoying you with how stressed I was with my training after the academy. It was during my first year in the investigation department.”

“Oh yeah, you were kind of unbearable.” You snort, “But come on, she was such bad news. And don’t make me remind you of Haesoo. I had every right to feel protective over you!”

“Oh god, Haesoo…” He cringes in his spot, “Okay, she was something else.”

“She was the worst.” You say with a straight face. “I’m your best friend and she openly admitted to me ‘girl to girl’” You mock with the roll of your eyes, “That she was using you for sex. I had to tell her that you’re a person. But she said, ‘he’s hot, all men are trash so I’m not hurting anyone’ I was so fucking pissed.”

“Yes, yes. I remember.” Jungkook smiles at you fondly. “My hero.”

“I am your hero, you’re goddamn right! You didn’t see through her evil ways but I did. I wanted to put her in a headlock.”

“Somehow I’d love to see that.” He grins teasingly at you. “It’s not like I was serious about her.”

“You totally liked her.”

“Okay fine, but only because she did witchcraft on me or something.”

“I’ll accept that answer because I think it’s true.” You say, “But honestly, you got better at standing up for yourself. Haesoo was during your time at the academy, right? You were what? 21? 22?”

“Yeah.”

“You were still pretty shy back then but I think sometime after you graduated and you started your first 6 months at the police station—before you did your one year in the investigation department—you kind of…grew up a lot. Stronger, I guess. Not as scared of confrontation.”

“Well,” Jungkook leans back into the sofa, “I guess in my years of being your friend, I finally learned something.” He chuckles.

“Thank god for that, huh?” You lean back onto the sofa as well, your body shifting to properly face him. “Who’s the worst guy I ever dated?”

“Hmm,” Jungkook looks up at the ceiling, thinking about it. “Dusik for sure.”

“What?! He was so nice!”

“I didn’t like him.”

“You never told me you didn’t like him!”

“Yes I did!”

“When—”

“—Oh.” Jungkook bites down onto his lip, “I guess I never admitted it until way later. You don’t remember…”

“Give me a reason.”

“I just didn’t like him.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t.”

“Why?”

“Seriously? You sound like a talking bird that only knows one word.”

“Why?”

He raises a brow at you, showing you he’s not enthused. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“Because he was probably the closest thing you had to a real relationship.” Jungkook purses his lips, eyes going to his hands. “And I just didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

Your mouth falls open, “Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” He responds childishly. 

“You didn’t approve of him because…you just sound jealous.” You snort, not taking this too seriously but Jungkook isn’t laughing.

“I was jealous of him.” He admits before the panic settles in his eyes. “Not in a weird way. I just hated that he was stealing you from me.”

“He didn’t steal—”

“—According to you, this was our biggest fight.” He reminds you, “You forgot about plans with me three times because you were with him. I wouldn’t have minded as much if you would have properly canceled. But apparently I was forgettable to you.” He sulks in his spot, an adorable pout on his lips but you can see that he’s still a little bitter about the whole thing.

“I know. I’m sorry. But hey, you got your revenge! You didn’t talk to me for four days. I hated those four days so much.”

“I hated it too.” He finally smiles, “At the time, those four days were like, the worst days ever. I wish I could go back. To when that was the worst thing.” He mumbles softly, smile still barely on his lips. 

“Hey,” You lean into him, eyes on his as you poke his cheek with your finger. “You also know you’re not forgettable to me, right? I literally have amnesia and my brain is still full of you.” 

Jungkook’s smile drops from his lips, eyes on yours with much more intensity as he processes your words. 

You are about to back away from him, a sudden tension growing between your bodies but before you can, Jungkook’s fingers go to your hand, you’re both twisted in one another’s directions. He’s so close. You’re so close. Your gaze drops to his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them. The heat basically rolls off his skin and warms you up, reminding you of the night you two spent in that tiny tent—not that anything happened…it’s just the warmth, the close proximity. Not to mention, it might have been the first time you had not so innocent thoughts about your best friend.

His fingers leave your hand and you gulp, feeling the sudden absence of his touch but it doesn’t last long…not when his hand rests on the side of your face, fingers behind your ear, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Your brain isn’t full enough of me.” He whispers, eyes still boring into you and once again, you want to crumble. Crumble for a million reasons and right now, you can’t even name one.

“I don’t know if that’s even possible.” The words dribble out slowly. The tension growing, a force that pulls your bodies closer.

You stare up at him, both of your hands sliding up his chest and you feel his heart hammering against it. It’s strong. It’s loud. It’s alive. 

Jungkook is lost. You’re lost. A trance being shared between you both and you know for a fucking fact that this isn’t new to either of you. You have no proof but this moment might be evidence alone. This cannot be the first time you two share a moment like this. You refuse to believe this is a first. 

“Jung—”

“—Did you want to watch something like a movie?” Jungkook’s hand drops from your face, his cheeks flushing as he leans away from you, eyes going back to the TV. 

You feel like someone ripped a rug from beneath your feet. You stare at his side profile, body gone still as you process what just happened. And what is currently happening. 

You laugh internally again. Your hands coming back to your own body and you face the TV as well. “Yeah, a movie sounds good.” 

It seems your brain is playing tricks on you lately. Making you see things. Hear things.

But you cannot be imagining this. No, your brain can’t make you imagine a feeling, can it? 

Your gut is telling you one thing and you’ve always been one to listen to it.

~

Jungkook snuck out early this morning, leaving you a note that said he has some things to take care of but he would be back around dinner time.

You won’t feel annoyed, not today. You’re tired of questioning every little thing and today you just want to not think about all the things you don’t know. Today you just want to be lazy and binge watch an entire series or something. Today you just want to be a normal person. A person who doesn’t have amnesia. 

You made a sandwich for lunch and ate while watching a show. You’re already on episode 5 of Strong Woman Do Bong Soon and you realizing love is real, it has to be, because these two main characters are making you swoon. 

You make dinner as well, eating while continuing the show. You’re not even ashamed to admit you’re on episode 8 now. Meaning, you’ve watched eight hours of this show just today. You check your phone to see the time.

7:02pm

Jungkook still isn’t back and he hasn’t texted. You know you shouldn’t feel worried or anything. But you’re going to call him anyway.

Your heart feels calmer when he answers on the third ring.

“Hey,” You say into the phone. “I was just checking if you were uh, still coming over today.”

“Yeah.” You hear the smile in his voice. “I just came by my place real quick to shower. I’m about to head over though. Sorry, um, my plans ran a little longer than I thought. I should have let you know…”

“No, no, it’s okay.” You say, relief evident in your voice. “Sleep here tonight, too.”

“Okay.” He tells you softly, “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Kay, bye.” You hang up the phone, already feeling lighter knowing he’s only five minutes away.

Just like magical clockwork, your front door opens and Jungkook is walking through. He grins at you, slipping his shoes off as he empties his pockets of his things. Wallet, phone and keys being placed on the little table by your entrance.

“Hi.” You sing out, patting the spot next to you on the couch. “I started a show today and I love it!”

“What show?” He asks, walking into the living room, eyes on the TV. “Oh! Strong girl! Yeah, this is your comfort show.” He tells you, plopping down right next to you. “We love it.”

Your mouth falls open in surprise, “I’ve seen it before?!”

Jungkook chuckles, “Yeah. You watch it every year.”

“Oh damn.” You nod to yourself, “I guess I really do love it.”

“Mmmmmm…” Jungkook leans back into the couch, eyes closing. “I’m so tired.”

“You do look a little tired.” You admit, fingers ruffling through his hair and he sighs in contentment.

“I almost fell asleep in the shower.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re already ready for bed? It’s barely 7!”

“Not bed…but what if I take a one hour power nap?” He cracks open one eye to look at you, “Super quick nap that gets me ready for a night full of binge watching the rest of this show?”

“Hmm,” You pull your fingers away from his hair. “Just one hour?”

“Just one hour.” He nods in excitement, “I promise I’ll wake up and hang out with you for the whole night.”

“Okay, deal.” You say, “Only because you do look pretty exhausted”

“You got no idea.” He tells you, “It was…a really long day.”

But he doesn’t elaborate. But you do have an idea what it could be about…

“Can I ask you something?” You blurt, your brain wired to demand answers. 

“Hm?” He sits up from leaning back, eyes focused on you.

“You were with Jimin, right?” You ask him, the words leave your mouth slowly as you gauge his reaction.

“Yeah.” He tells you and you know he’s being honest. But you aren’t done asking questions.

“And…” Your stomach feels uneasy from nerves but you continue, “Is it because…are you trying to…um, trying to figure out who caused my accident? Since it was a hit and run?” 

Jungkook tilts his head, eyes becoming unreadable. 

You reckon it’s a solid assumption. He was a detective after all.

Jungkook’s hand goes to his jaw, eyes going to the ceiling like he’s trying to figure out his answer when slowly you watch as his fingers slide down from his chin to his throat, fingers caressing the skin before he’s softly tugging at his neck and he finally answers, “Yeah.”

“Oh, okay. I figured.” You reply, eyes still on his fingers. “I kind of guessed that’s what you were up to.” 

He drops his hand and offers a timid smile, “Mhm.” 

Your insides are twisting.

“Well, I’ll let you sleep for an hour!” You stand from the sofa, “You better wake up when I tell you to, Jungkook.” You smile now, “I’ll be in the kitchen, think I’m going to make something.”

“Ah, okay.” Jungkook puts his feet up before laying back on the couch, blanket draped over him. “Can you turn the light off too?”

“Yup.” You walk towards the wall and switch the light off. Light from the kitchen still on and you start going towards it. “Have a nice nap.” You say before disappearing into the kitchen, only Jungkook’s distant hum in the background can be heard.

You take a seat on the uncomfortable bar stool and only one thought echoes in your mind.

He lied.

You sit here for like 30 minutes, trying to make sense of his lie. Why would he lie? But if he’s not doing that? Then what is he doing? What exactly has he been getting up to? You know he really was with Jimin. All the phone calls, the texts, the ‘going to take care of some things’. But if it’s not about your accident…then what is it about?

You sigh, feeling defeated because you can’t come up with a logical explanation. 

You don’t want to feel upset about the lie because he asked you to trust him so you will. And he does look utterly exhausted. You feel sorry for him…the state his apartment is in, losing his job, clearly working on something with Jimin. He’s tired. Not to mention, he takes care of you. 

And you want to do something for him. Something that will—that’s right. He did mention something…

You stand from the bar stool, excitement and nerves running through your veins as you rummage through the kitchen. You check every single drawer, cabinet, closet. You even looked in the fridge—desperate times, desperate measures. But nothing. No recipe books anywhere! You quietly go into the living room and search as well, eyes glancing at your knocked out best friend every now and then. Thank goodness he is a heavy sleeper. His snores are honestly louder than your rummaging, though.

There’s no way you don’t own any recipe books…you even remember the ones you had in college. You remember owning some as a 24 year old. So where are they? Jungkook said you got great at baking and he seemed to enjoy your homemade cookies—whichever ones they are. But there is no book around or papers or anything with a recipe on it!

But then a thought hits you. He didn’t…no, why would he? But maybe? You instantly remember the attic. How Jungkook put a bunch of stuff in there to not accidentally overwhelm you with a million things. It’s possible…? It wouldn’t hurt to look, right? You swear you’ll be careful. Eyes looking for recipe books and that’s it!

Alright, you made up your mind. You glance at sleeping, snoring Jungkook again. There’s no way he would wake up anytime soon…he’s completely passed out on your sofa due to exhaustion. You look towards the table by your front door, eyes on his things. His wallet, phone and of course, his keys.

You tip toe over to the entrance, one last glance at Jungkook before swiping the keys off the table. The jingle louder than you anticipated, head snapping in his direction but he only snores louder. You release a breath in relief. You look towards the hallway, a determined look on your face as you walk over there. 

But a look of annoyance quickly falls over your face. Right, it’s an attic. It’s locked. And it’s you know, on the freaking ceiling. You huff out quietly, trying to think of what you can do. Right…there’s a ladder in the guest bedroom closet. But you’re hoping you can do all of this quietly. 

You stuff the keys into your pocket and go inside the bedroom, quickly going into the mostly empty closet when you find the 6ft ladder leaning against the closet wall. You pick it up, thankfully it isn’t very heavy at all and bring it out into the hall, right below the attic door.

You listen for Jungkook’s snores and when you hear them you sigh out. Good. He’s still in deep sleep. You set the ladder up, climbing it quietly, stopping every few seconds to make sure you still hear Jungkook’s snores. Once near the top, you reach for the keys in your pocket. Feeling slightly uneasy being this high up. 

You try to steady yourself, fingers searching for the right key but you have no idea which one it could be. So you begin trying them one by one. Nope, not this one. Nope, not that one. You fiddle through the keys when you spot a small gold one and you decide to try it. You try to get it through the key hole when your shaky fingers fumble the keys and they fucking drop. You feel like you’re losing your balance, heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach. They landed on the metal step right next to your foot. Fucking lucky they didn’t fall to the ground. But damn, it was loud.

You try to calm your breathing.

Your ears paying close attention to every sound around you and a huge lump forms in your throat when you don’t hear the consistent sounds of Jungkook’s snores. 

You’re frozen in your spot. Skin feeling cold but sweaty. Like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to.

After what feels like an eternity your entire body fucking relaxes when Jungkook starts snoring again.

You swear you could laugh and cry at the relief you’re feeling. 

You carefully step down to easily grab the keys again before stepping back up. Your fingers are still shaky but you manage to find that small gold key again and you try to fit it through the keyhole. You try turning it and bam. The door unlocks. 

You wish you could scream in celebration but you remain quiet. 

It’s unlocked.

Feeling giddy, you quickly step down from the ladder and move it to the side. You reach for the long string and pull hard, the door coming down and a wooden staircase follows. You’ve done it. You’ve opened the attic and now you can do as you promised, you can find the recipe books and get the hell out of there before Jungkook even knows you went in.

You take a hesitant first step, glancing once more behind you, his snores soft and consistent before you finally climb the steps and go inside.

It’s dark, dusty and maybe a bit creepy. You reach for your phone, turning on the flashlight as you look around. You find the light switch, turning it on and suddenly the entire attic is glowing in a soft yellow. 

Boxes everywhere. You don’t even know where to begin looking. But the nearest boxes are probably the most promising, right? Your fingers slide over the top of one of the brown boxes before you decide to pry it open. But you aren’t really sure what you’re seeing. A bunch of books, loose papers and random notes. It’s your handwriting. But you don’t know what anything means. So you ignore this box.

You open the next box but there isn’t anything but old clothes in that one.

Next box is a bunch of notebooks.

You groan in frustration, okay maybe this pile wasn’t as promising as you thought so you decide to move on to the other side of the attic. A few boxes that are less dusty than the rest. Okay, maybe this is more promising.

You open the first box you see, fingers lifting each flap open and when your eyes land on the thing lying on the top, your jaw immediately drops. Your heart is thumping more wildly than you’ve ever known, chest tight and stomach dropping completely where all the butterflies reside. You stare at what you’re seeing. In shock? Disbelief? Your hands are still just as shaky as you reach for the thing that rests at the top of this particular box. 

Fingers wrapping around the frame, eyes blinking rapidly as you try to make sense of what you’re seeing. 

Well, you had your suspicions. But not this far. You thought you and Jungkook perhaps maybe hooked up before during these past nine years, or that you did confess to him at some point or you don’t know, but not this. 

You aren’t sure if it’s shock, disbelief or your own selfish happiness. 

You lift the frame up, a smile growing viscously on your lips. “Well, holy shit.” You mutter to yourself. “No fucking way.”

You stare at the framed photo. You and Jungkook, together, in a wedding gown and tux. The year 2016 engraved at the bottom. 

Jungkook isn’t just your best friend.

No, he is also your husband.

~

Next

AHHHHHHH

The suspense continues. The revelations continue! Absolutely loved the steaminess in this chapter and I could definitely feel the pain JK felt holding back. 2 years is longer than I thought, but I knew they had grown apart. He obviously messed up but is still madly in love with her. Ugh. So tragic.

But I guess she should have seen this coming considering the picture was covered in dust. That wouldn’t have happened from just a few weeks/months. It had to be longer if she had to wipe it to see clearly. I wish she would speak up about all the weird things she’s seeing and feeling but it is clear that she built up some heavy barriers in her mind to protect herself from her memories. Gosh. Must be awful awful.

Anyway, still in love and fascinated by this tale. Love the characters and the plot and the overall world building. I will eagerly wait for more 😊

Our Time | JJK (Four)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: swearing, frustrations of amnesia, mentions of alcohol, slight panic attack, confession, secrecy, lots of bonding, mentions of sex, sexual tension, yearning, erection, dirty talk (details of sexual scenarios) over the pants action, mentions of oral (fem and male rec.)

a/n: another important chapter 🤭 please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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You finally lower the frame after staring at it with heart eyes for way too long. There are more than a million thoughts running through your mind but it seems your ability to truly think is somewhat halted because of the giddiness that trots around in your belly. Yes, you’re confused. Yes, you’re shocked. Yes, you’re in almost complete disbelief. But if this is true?

Then yes, you are also over the fucking moon.

You continue to look at the framed photo, eyes scanning every little detail. You take a moment to wipe your sleeve against the glass, built up dust making it harder to see clearly. You, in a long, beautiful wedding gown, fingers wrapped around Jungkook’s bicep and a look of bliss on your face. Jungkook’s suit is hugging his muscles, the tie neatly wrapped around his neck as one of his hands rest over yours. His smile is huge and his cheeks are rosy. You know when he looks genuinely happy and this is it. 

You try to suppress a growing grin, heart still racing and beating loudly in your ears. But suddenly, a headache starts forming and you roll your eyes. Maybe it’s ‘logic’ trying to push against your forehead, causing an ache to bring you back to reality.

You are happy that apparently you and Jungkook are married. But you also don’t know for sure yet. It might seem obvious but hey, you never know. This would explain the secrecy and his lonely apartment. He doesn’t actually live there, right? Maybe he just got that place quickly so he could keep up the façade of you two only being friends. 

But why keep this a secret in the first place? 

It is huge news so maybe that’s why. 

Regardless, you need to confront Jungkook. You need to tell him you know about this and if it’s actually true. And hopefully he will be just as pleased as you. He doesn’t have to pretend anymore. 

You decide to stick the frame under your arm as you close the box again. You glance around the attic one last time. Boxes everywhere, lots of dust and lots of evidence of a life you don’t know. But at least you know something and you’re going to stick to your word—nothing more than the recipe book…even though, you found something else entirely. 

Climbing down the attic steps, you can hear Jungkook’s snores from the living room. You finally get the attic closed but when the door shuts, your entire body goes still at the loud ‘bang’ when it slams shut. You’re quick to snap your head in the direction of Jungkook but when you don’t hear his snores anymore, you feel your insides twist and turn. 

Frozen, you keep your body turned in the direction of the living room and it seems Jungkook’s snores don’t continue. And then you hear the sound of feet on the wooden floors.

“y/n?” Jungkook’s voice is distant and groggy. 

You take a deep breath, eyes going to the ladder and the frame under your arm before you hold it in your hands and bring it to your chest, picture facing you. You know he’s going to appear in the hallway any second as he looks for you and you know you have to face him regardless.

“In the hall.” You finally call out. 

Not even five seconds pass before Jungkook’s sleepy figure appears before you. His hair sticks up in all directions, fist rubbing at his eye as he tries to adjust to the light in the hallway. It takes him a moment to register what he’s seeing. You, beneath the attic with a ladder next to you and something in your hands. 

“What—” He glances around much more quickly now, feet suddenly moving as he comes closer to you. “What are you doing?” He finally looks awake. Alert. Panicked. “Hey, what are you—are you trying to get into the…” He shakes his head, brows furrowing. “What are you doing, y/n?”

“Well—”

“—Did you go into the fucking attic?” He cuts you off, eyes on the ceiling as panic and concern paints his face. 

“I needed to find something.” You tell him calmly. “So I—”

“—What the fu…” He swallows hard, eyes not finding yours. “I told you not to…” Jungkook’s fingers go to his temples, eyes shutting as he tries to gather his thoughts. “You realize how fucking—”

“—I didn’t snoop into anything, really.” You rush to say though you speak slowly. Your own concern etching itself onto your features. “I was only looking for a recipe book.”

Jungkook finally looks at you and you feel small. “A fucking recipe book? That’s worth going into the attic for? I told you that there are too many things in there that would overwhelm you!” His chest moves up and down quickly, lips set in a firm line as he stares at you incredulously. “This—”

“—I only found this.” You keep your voice calm. You flip the frame to face him and you watch as his entire expression falls, every hard line on his face smooths out the moment he sees what you’re holding. And then suddenly his face begins paling.

“You—You…” He blinks at the photo, mouth fallen open. 

“Is this…” You speak quietly, suddenly insecure about the entire situation but you still move closer to him, eyes looking up into his and he immediately softens because of your delicate yet unsure expression. “Are we?” 

Jungkook’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he gazes down at you, his eyes growing watery.

“Did we really get married?” You push the frame closer to him, your expression shifting from unsure to pleading. “Did you fall in love with me? Is this real?”

Jungkook’s expression completely crumbles at your questions, “Yes…” His voice cracks, pausing to clear his throat. “We got married…” Then he grows sad, “How wouldn’t this be real?” He asks, weak smile tugging at his lips as he takes the frame from you and he looks down at it.

“I don’t know…” Your heart starts thumping harder, you use every muscle in your face to keep you from smiling. “Maybe since I’m kind of crazy about you…that I photoshopped it or something.” 

Jungkook snorts and you feel your body relax. “Photoshop?” He laughs but his eyes are still watery. “No, no.” He brings the frame to his body like he’s hugging it. “This is very real.”

You can feel the tiny hairs all over your body rise in disbelief. You know how shocking and unreal this all is. But there’s something inside you that feels relieved, pleased and comforted. Because you have felt it in your bones that the connection between you and Jungkook was somehow different and you craved him more than your mind or body could explain.

“I’m married to you?” You stare at the frame in his hands, eyes huge with wonder. “You…this feels crazy.” You say, quietly trying to sort your thoughts. “How do we…” You finally tear your eyes from the frame and look at him. “How do we act now?”

Jungkook’s silence feels like hands wrapped around your throat. 

His body stands tall yet stiff. Fingers gripping the frame like he’s afraid it’ll drop and glass will shatter. Jungkook breaths are bated and you feel your own throat constricting when his silence continues.

“Jungkook?” You murmur his name, voice straying from confidence as insecurity leaks through the one word. 

He flinches. 

After another moment, Jungkook tries to clear his throat and speak but it seems any words he wants to say die somewhere in his chest, along with his heart. “Um,” He still doesn’t lift his eyes to you, avoiding your gaze as he continues to stare down at the frame.

“Jung—“

“—Did you see anything else in the attic?” He asks, voice slightly shaky as he doesn’t rip his eyes from the frame still. “Or was this it?”

“This was it.” You tell him honestly, his gaze finally meeting yours. Perhaps he wanted to catch your own telltale tic when you lie. But you aren’t lying.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, tone much softer. “How is your head? This doesn’t feel real for you, right? This probably might seem crazy.”

“Yes and no.” Your lips manage to form a hesitant smile. “It is crazy because wow, I’m married. But also, it isn’t crazy because even 24 year old me can’t imagine my life ending up this way with anyone else but you.”

Jungkook stares at you with big, doe eyes. A crease forming between his eyebrows as his lips twist, teeth suddenly digging into the flesh when he tries to control his obvious emotions. 

You thought he might be pleased you know but you don’t expect to see his eyes grow teary when they well with uncertainty and longing. 

He had to pretend this relationship didn’t exist between you both. It must have been incredibly hard for him.

“How are you feeling?” You try to step closer to him, but your body is still going through shock despite your mind feeling more at ease. 

Jungkook lightly scoffs at your question, lips twitching when he can’t answer with words. He’s growing more and more unknown to you. This is brand new territory. Jungkook knows you even more than you recall. He knows you differently than you know him. You’ve never experienced a romantic dynamic with him—well, you have, you just don’t remember. 

You eye him carefully, his muscles looking unbearably tense. You walk forward more, hand reaching towards him as you try to gently pry the frame from his hands. “You know you have the real thing in front of you, right?” You innocently tease, smirk on your lips but it gets immediately wiped clean from your face when Jungkook’s shoulders shake a little and he chokes on whatever words have risen to his throat. 

“I…do…” He finally looks at you, the uncertainty and longing now clearly evident on his features. “I miss you.” He whispers.

He doesn’t just miss you, his best friend. No, he misses you, his wife.

“I can imagine this has been hard for you.” Your fingers wrap around his. You’re met with his cold and clammy skin. “Pretending we’re just friends.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his watery eyes blinking back his emotions. “You have no idea.” He tells you, “How fucking hard this is. How hard everything has been.” His voice cracks and he pauses to take a moment to collect himself. 

“Well…” You dart around anxiously, cheeks growing warm. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.” You intertwine your fingers now, feeling brave but still so nervous.

Jungkook finally cracks a small smile, “I might not have to pretend there isn’t something between us but it doesn’t mean I can just act like how we used to. This is brand new for you.”

You shake your head quickly, a cute expression that makes Jungkook melt on your face. “I don’t mind, really.”

He laughs, his own head shaking. “It’s not a switch that can get flipped.”

“Fine.” You groan playfully, the atmosphere finally lightening and it seems the invisible fingers around your throat finally let you go. “But I can definitely ask questions now, right? And you’ll give me answers.”

Jungkook’s smile drops a little but he nods, although a bit hesitant.

“I can’t wait, Ribbit.”

~~~

You stare at Jungkook, teasing smile lifting your lips as you watch him awkwardly watch you. “You know, kind of strange that you choose now to not sit too close to me.”

He chuckles, fingers fiddling with one another. “I’ll admit it’s actually a little more nerve wracking.”

“Now that I know we’re…romantically,” You wiggle your brows, “Involved?” 

Jungkook’s cheek burn as he stares you, eyes filled with the same uncertainty and longing you’re beginning to truly pick up on. “Isn’t this weird for you?”

“What’s weird is how far you’re sitting from me, Jungkook.” You point out, “Or should I call you something more cute?” 

“Cute?”

“Mhm. What do I usually call you? Babe? Honey? Sweetheart? Baby?” You’re obviously teasing him. You always imagined he would get this flustered. He is. Even though you both have been married for seven years, it seems he still flushes under your gaze and your words. You love that.

“Just call me Jungkook.” He swallows down his own name, shy smile. “Don’t jump into anything you don’t really understand.”

He says this softly but you know he’s warning you—as gently as possible.

“You’re no fun.” You pout, loving this new dynamic. Well, you aren’t really sure it’s a new dynamic but it’s definitely a new way to tease him. Your best friend who ran home crying when he was a kid. Your best friend who got walked on from previous dates. Your best friend who grew up so incredibly well. 

“I beg to differ.” He smiles at you, “I think you’d describe me as really fun actually.”

“Maybe.” You lean back onto the sofa, “I think I’d think you’re more fun if you sat close to me.”

“And how exactly would that be fun?” He raises a curious brow.

Your eyes shine in amusement before you smirk, “I think you know.” You say slowly making Jungkook roll his eyes, uncontrollable smile on his face. 

“You’re really something.”

“But you like it, right?”

Jungkook meets your eye, serious expressing beginning to shadow his previous mirth. “You have no idea.” He tells you. “I’ll sit closer but let’s have some boundaries, don’t you think?”

You soften, smiling at Jungkook before you answer. “Okay.”

“Alright, I know you’re dying to know how this all began, right? What’s your first question, hm?”

“Hm,” You heart starts dancing in your chest when Jungkook finally scoots closer to you, his warmth suddenly caging you as if his arms were tight around your body. Well, you wish that was the case. “Okay, did something happen at Sana’s wedding? I kind of suspected we might have hooked up? Is that when I confessed?”

Jungkook suddenly looks incredibly amused, some shyness getting replaced with something more lively, “What makes you think you’re the one who confessed first?” He asks you, making your mouth fall open.

“There’s no way it wasn’t me.” You look surprised, “You did first?!”

He starts laughing, you swear you can feel the rumble in his chest just by the sound alone. “No it was definitely you.” 

Your face breaks into a grin, “I fucking knew it.”

“I wasn’t as brave as you.” He grows more tender, eyes filled with so much adoration as he stares at you.

“So…did I confess on Sana’s wedding night?”

“Nope.” He tells you, “Nothing happened that night.”

“What?” You purse your lips, “I was so sure.”

“Well…” He blushes, “Not exactly anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was sort of the night everything changed between us though. Without anything actually changing?”

“I still don’t get it.”

Jungkook bites onto his lower lip, trying to remember how you both described it many years ago. “Everyone was making fun of as usual.” He starts, “And it’s like we both become extremely aware of each other. Openly?”

“Openly?”

“I already knew for a long time how I felt about you but I never made it obvious. There was no change in our dynamic. You had feelings for me too.” Then he smirks, “Just like you do right now, right?”

You conceal a knowing smile, eyes averting his gaze for a moment as you nod your head.

“Anyway, that night it’s like neither of us really hid the fact that we were looking at one another differently. We danced together and it became hard to ignore that something was forming between us without either of us ever saying it.”

“Wow.” You listen intently, “Then what happened?”

“After the wedding, we couldn’t go back to the feeling between us. The platonic feeling. It’s like things suddenly changed,” He pauses, cheeks dusting over more harshly. “It got awkward talking about dates, it got weird when I suddenly got jealous of every other man.” He starts chuckling, shaking his head at the past. “It’s like we couldn’t even hug without feeling so fucking…” 

You smile, hand landing right above his knee. “Then what?”

“One time when we were out, I—out of instinct—had a hand on your lower back, feeling protective I guess.” He shrugs, shy smile. “And you joked with me about how I’m going to scare away any future boyfriend and I still remember the stab I felt to my heart.” He laughs to himself, eyes on your hand. “After the wedding, everything was so different with us. Compliments felt different, touching felt different and I remember one night when I was feeling down you gave me some encouraging pep talk and I kept thinking about how I’ll never know anyone like you again.”

“I’ve always felt that about you.” You admit to him, fingers lightly brushing against his sweatpants. “Even when we first became friends.”

He beams at you, “I know.”

“Oh do you?”

“I know everything in your mind, y/n.” He focuses on your face with a smile. “In fact when you were 25 you were wondering if I was ever going to make a real move on you. Both of us fully aware of the unspoken new dynamic.” He admits with a chuckle, “You told me later that you knew you couldn’t have been imagining the romance between us. Always so intuitive.”

“Love that for me.”

“Anyway, as you guessed…” He touches the material of his sweatpants too, fingers dangerously close to yours. “You came to me and told me how you felt. You,” He silently snorts, “Told me you weren’t worried about ruining our friendship because it’s already changed and you thought you might as well take it into your own hands.”

“Sounds like me.” You look impressed with things that sound real despite the fact it also sounds unreal. 

“I admired you so much. Still do.” His fingers brush against yours every now and then. “I obviously returned your feelings. We started dating immediately.”

“Wow, we move fast, huh? Or maybe it was slow?” Perspective, you guess.

He laughs, “Fast. We moved in together only 8 months after dating and I proposed to you only a year and half into our relationship because we both knew this was forever.” He softens so much, fingers warm against yours, the slow and calculated movements making both of your pulses quicken. 

“Wow…” You stare down at his thigh, feeling silly for getting this excited at fingers barely touching. “I wish I remembered this.”

“Me too.” He says quietly. “I think about my life with you all the time and I wish I could just insert my memories into your head.”

“How was our wedding?” You ask him, “We look nice in the photo.”

“One of the best days of my life.” He looks up finally, his eyes willing yours to look at him as well. “I promise you that.”

“You’re a lot more romantic than I would have assumed.” You crack a smile, “Are we pretty romantic?”

He sighs, smile tugging at his lips. “Crazy for each other. So what do you think?”

You laugh a little bitterly, even when your body tingles in warmth and excitement. “I wish I remembered. I hate that nothing sounds familiar at all. It sounds like you’re reading my diary of future dreams to me.”

“I’d love to see that.” He teases. “But hey,” Suddenly growing more serious, “You will get your memories back.”

You nod, trying your best to convince yourself it’s true. “Yeah.”

“I told you I’m here for you. For all of it. No matter how this turns out, I won’t…” He looks away, visibly gulping. “I won’t ever give up.”

You realize with all this discussion that does feel overwhelming despite how pleasing it is to hear, that no actual words have been said about feelings.

“Jungkook?”

“What is it?” He hums.

“Do you love me?”

Jungkook’s brows pull together, blinking at you like you asked a ridiculous question.

“Do I love you?” His fingers finally grab a hold of yours. “I love you so much, y/n.” His confession almost looks overwhelming for even him.

Your lips lift, a sudden relief flooding your entire body. “You do?”

“Yes.” He gazes into your eyes more intense than before. “Isn’t it so obvious?”

“Tell me about our first kiss.” You request, your hand feeling a little sweaty thanks to nerves.

“Our first…” He releases a long breath, “I asked you. I wanted to take you on a date first but I didn’t really want to wait.” He admits, chuckling. “I kissed you and we didn’t really want to stop.” He looks sheepish now, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Do you think…” Your heart is hammering against your chest now as heat crawls up all your exposed skin. “If we kissed right now that it could spark something? Memories?”

And for the first time, not completely blinded by the joy you feel, you see obvious confliction cross his eyes.

“No, I don’t think we should.” He pulls his hand away from you, he wipes it on his other pants leg, ridding it of sweat. “Boundaries. Slow. This is new.”

He’s reluctant. You can understand his perspective but you sense there’s something more.

“Okay…” You mumble, “That’s okay.”

He finds your eyes, slight panic when he says, “I’m not saying I don’t want to. I just don’t think we should.”

“But what if it helps?” You try to reason with him. Yes, you’d love to kiss him because damn, you’ve been wanting to for a long time. But you also believe it could help. 

He looks antsy in his spot, eyes darting around while both hands rub his sweatpants. “I don’t know. If it’s right.” He says quietly. “I really—”

“—Jungkook, it’s okay. I’m giving you full consent if that’s what you’re worried about.” You put a hand over his, “I’d love to kiss you regardless but I also want to test this theory of mine.”

He deeply sighs out, struggling to look at you again. 

“Please.” You whisper.

He finally tries to relax his body, fully turning his entire form towards you. “Are you really sure?”

You feel touched honestly. He’s so caring and considerate and you’re wildly into him. “I’m sure.”

“Okay…” Jungkook licks the corner of his lips nervously. “Can I lead it?”

“Sure.” You nod, the feeling of a cage door breaking down when millions of butterflies escape inside your stomach, fluttering around making you feel lightheaded. “Yeah…”

Jungkook looks exactly how you’re feeling. 

Uncertain and longing.

Jungkook eyes meet yours and it’s like they’re screaming at you. In excitement? Nerves? Worry? You don’t really know. But you’re sure yours are doing the same. He breathes out, hands suddenly rising towards your face but his fingers only hover over your cheeks. You’re sure he can feel the raging heat radiating off your skin. You swallow hard, heart racing when he moves closer to you.

He continuously licks his lips, fingers finally barely touching your skin and you can feel the comfortable burn from the tips of his fingers, your breath getting caught in your throat at the small touch. 

His space is invading yours, strong tension on both sides colliding with a great force. You can physically feel the heavy, thick air between your bodies. 

You need to breathe.

His fingers cup your jaw more firmly, his skin merging with yours thanks to the heat that has you both melting. His eyes stay low, not able to make contact with yours quite yet as he continues to lean in. He’s moving so slowly, so hesitantly despite how you feel the need he exerts. 

“Jungkook…” You sigh out his name and you feel a bolt of electricity when his eyes snap up and lock with yours. His chest rises and falls and you sense he’s trying to calm his breathing while you’re reminding yourself to breathe.

You know he’s leading but you can’t help it when your hands slide up his chest, fingers splayed out, feeling the drumming of his crazy heart. He releases a shaky breath, eyes going back down to your lips and he leans in more and more. He’s breathing the same small space of air as you. His shaky breaths fanning over your mouth, a reflection of how hard he’s trying to keep it together. 

“Jungkook.” You’re barely audible, eyes closing at the close proximity. 

You want to fall apart. Jungkook’s lips ghost yours, tickling your bottom lip when his barely brushes against it. You want him to meld his lips against yours firmly but he’s so slow and careful, driving you insane. 

“Okay,” He breathes against you.

One of his hands slide behind your neck, surprising you when he urges you forward, your lips perfectly slotting between his and you immediately moan against his mouth, hands firm against his chest when they glide up, your fingers lacing behind his neck, pulling him closer against you. 

Jungkook’s chest pushes against yours, his heavy breaths hard to ignore but somehow you’re only focusing on the feeling between you both. His lips barely disconnect, more shaky breaths before he dives in again, much more force but he’s still so gentle. Little groans in the back of his throat making you ache. 

You know this is new for you. But kissing him already feels so familiar and your body has incredible muscle memory even when your brain lacks it. Your fingers grip the hair at the back of his neck, making Jungkook pull his lips away again, breathing against your mouth heavily. 

You match the pace of his erratic breaths before deciding you’ll lead now. 

You connect your lips but instead of long, firm kisses, you move your mouth against his and he reciprocates instantly. The kisses are slow even though all you feel is urgency. His hands drop from your head and find a comfortable place on your hips, squeezing your sides every time you move them. 

Another squeeze when you whine into his mouth, lips parting and Jungkook’s tongue shyly licks into you. He’s warm and quietly groans when you slip your tongue to caress his. This feels like a man you’ve made out with before. This feels like a man that knows how to kiss you.

But unfortunately no memories get sparked despite how familiar it all is. 

Jungkook’s hands slide up your frame, fingers back on your jaw when he pulls away again, same shaky breaths fanning your skin when he pushes his forehead to yours and sighs deeply. You slowly open your eyes to see how his are slammed shut, a peculiar expression on his face with beads of sweat on his hairline that soak into your own skin.

“Jungkook…” You murmur his name, fingers still tangled in his hair. 

He doesn’t respond, he doesn’t open his eyes, he doesn’t even move.

He tries to even his breathing…he simply tries to keep himself in one piece. 

With no warning, his hands drop from you altogether and he pulls away from you, a groan leaving his mouth when he leans back into the sofa, eyes still closed. 

You’re breathless, hot, lightheaded and crazy for him. You watch him with careful eyes, but it’s hard for your gaze not to lower to the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. He’s looking defeated, head tilted back, arms weak on either side of him and doing nothing to hide how hard he’s gotten.

After several long moments and he seems to be coming down from some sort of high, he opens his eyes and glances at you. “Anything?” He asks you quietly.

You frown, “No. It’s all familiar though. Good, too.”

He leans forward, nodding at your words. “Okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry, y/n.”

You feel bad for some reason. Guilty that his touch wasn’t enough for the world of memories to return to you. Like his love wasn’t enough. You know that’s not the case but you hope it’s not what he’s thinking.

“I love you too…just so you know.” You tell him, hand on his thigh.

You see how his expression twists, forcing the weakest smile you’ve ever seen as he gives you a nod. “I uh, I’m going to grab some water.” He stands from the sofa, “We should probably call it a night.”

~

It’s 4am and you can’t fall asleep. You’re tossing and turning in your bed—your lonely bed—unable to shut your brain off. Jungkook insisted on remaining on the sofa because boundaries or whatever. You get it. But you also don’t. 

You texted Misuk and Subin letting them know that the cat was out of the bag. You know you’re married to Jungkook and you couldn’t be more pleased with the revelation. There isn’t any response from either of them yet but maybe they went to bed early. You also texted your parents but they did reply almost immediately. Your mom only texting back ‘yes my favorite son in law.’  

After the kiss with Jungkook, you two put on a movie, hoping some tension would disappear between you but no, of course not. Instead it only grew, wrapping your body and pulling you under with little space to breathe. You have a lot to think about. Obviously.

You still need to ask Jungkook about the apartment, what case he’s working on and why Misuk has developed a dislike for him. But also, unfortunately, you’re thinking about the boner he was sporting after kissing you.

You feel hot and bothered at the fact you were able to affect him like after kissing for a couple of minutes. It’s relieving since he affected you just as strongly. You understand why he said the first time you two ever kissed, you both didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to stop this time either. 

You miss him. Badly. He’s so close but not close enough. Your couch is not your bed. Isn’t it also his bed? Ugh. You’re craving to be close to him, feeling his skin and his warmth. Isn’t he itching to cuddle with you too? Although it’s not something you’re used to but you definitely could get used to it. And fast. 

You roll around in bed, body on one side and then the other but no position feels comfortable enough to relax in. You quietly groan, head banging against the pillows and you know you need to give up. Maybe you just aren’t sleeping tonight. Eyes focused on the ceiling, the moonlight seeps into your bedroom since the blinds are cracked open as it give the walls an illuminating glow. 

You just stare. Stare at nothing. An entire hour passes by and finally, you’re feeling the energy drain from your body. You realize your mind is hardly going wild anymore. Kind of loving that your mind is suddenly blanking as no particular thoughts feel busy in your head. Body feeling heavier and eyes opening and closing more often. You can feel that maybe you will fall asleep tonight. 

You blink lazily, eyes still on the ceiling. You can finally feel sleep trying to pull you under, the moonlight lulling you, a blueish white glow that is dim and—suddenly, the entire room goes dark for a quick, fleeting moment and your entire body jolts up. Heart already pounding, you’re quick to whip your head in the direction of the window because you know a passing shadow when you see one.

Sitting upright in bed, you stare at the window, holding your breath. Did you imagine that? Did someone pass your window? An animal? Maybe it was simply clouds momentarily covering the moon.

No. 

A strange feeling crawls all over your skin, unwanted goosebumps rising. 

A strange feeling that feels fucking familiar. 

You quickly get out of the bed, walking to the window when you peek out of it but there’s nothing around that you can see. You didn’t imagine that, right?

But the strange feeling makes a home within you. 

As if what just happened feels more like a dream than something you just experienced. 

Did you imagine it? Are you remembering something? 

Either way, fuck that.

You quickly close the blinds and step away from the window. Mind suddenly busy all over again. What was that? Did someone walk by your window? Did you even actually see a shadow? Or before falling asleep did you simply begin dreaming already? Or did a memory trying forcing its way out of you…?

You stand still, completely still. Palms growing sweaty because your brain is sending a million signals to your body but you can’t makes sense of even one of them.

You feel anxious. Your chest hurts and if that wasn’t enough, your skull suddenly feels on fire, a terrible ache causing your head to be on the brink of explosion. Your hands go to your face, rubbing your cheeks as you try to relax. What is happening?

You don’t need to think about it. You turn away from your window, feet taking you towards your bedroom door when you decide to wake up Jungkook.

Approaching the living room, you hear your best friend—oh, husband—snoring away on the sofa, an immediate sigh of relief leaves your lips the closer you get.

“Jungkook…” You put a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake. “Hey.” 

Jungkook takes a minute to stir from his sleep, face all scrunched up as he barely opens one eye. “Hm?” He slowly tries to sit up and get a look at you. “Hey, what’s up?” He questions you softly, a curious look all over his face.

“Jungkook.” You mumble, your anxiety rising uncomfortably. “I feel…” You can’t even finish that sentence without your voice sounding panicked and overwhelmed.

Jungkook’s eyes finally adjust, his expression alert all of the sudden as he reaches for you, urging you to take a seat on the edge of the sofa. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His hands are on either of your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

Your heart is racing. Not in excitement. In fear. In fear of what’s real or what isn’t. In fear of dreams, in fear of memories, in fear of reality. “I don’t feel good.” You admit to him, “I feel sick, I think.”

“Sick?” He questions, eyes scanning your face, though it’s dark. “Upset stomach?”

“No,” You swallow hard. “Life.”

Jungkook’s expression turns pained, finally understanding what’s going on here.

“Are you overwhelmed?” He asks you, “Stressed about things?”

“I’m,” You hate the tightness in your chest. “I’m really fucking overwhelmed. My brain isn’t…” Your voice cracks, eyes stinging. “It doesn’t make sense to me. Nothing makes sense to me. This doesn’t make sense to me.” You feel panic settle. “ I don’t know what to do. I feel fucking lost. I’m lost. This doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t—”

“—Hey, hey.” Jungkook’s rubbing your arms, trying to comfort you. “y/n. Look at me. Please look at me.” His hands leave your sides when his thumbs brush right below your eyes. He’s wiping away a few miserable tears you never realized spilled. “I’m here, love. I’m here.” 

“Jungkook…” You reach for him, head falling into his chest. “Nothing makes sense. I don’t make sense. I don’t understand—” Your breaths pick up, “I don’t know, Jungkook. This doesn’t make sense.”

“Fuck,” He sighs, jaw tightening as he rubs your back, staring at the empty space behind your body. “I’m so sorry. This isn’t fair for you…I’m sorry you had to find out like this—about us—I wish things would—”

“What?” You lift yourself from his chest, teary eyes on his. “You think I’m freaking the fuck out because of us? Jungkook,” You swallow down the burn in your throat, “This news is the only good thing I’m holding on to right now. It’s everything else that fries my fucking brain.” You point a finger at the side of your head.

He looks at you, confusion swirling in his eyes. “This isn’t because of us?”

You shake your head before you wipe at your eyes, “No. This is because every other missing detail in my life. You’re the only,” You lean forward, desperate gaze set on him and he grows so weak at your expression. “You’re the only thing keeping me together. The news about you and me does make sense.”

Audible breaths leave Jungkook’s parted lips, eyes blown wide and the uncertainty and longing becoming the skeleton inside his body and it controls him. His possessed bones pull you closer to him and you quietly gasp when he kisses you. Strong arms wrapped around you, lips pushing against yours and your entire body relaxes in Jungkook’s hold. 

His lips feel so familiar. Like your brain is itching to give you more. But it doesn’t.

He pulls away, his face falling into the crook of your neck and he breathes you in, “Tell me what it is that you need from me, y/n.” 

You don’t really know what to say.

But the answer is more obvious than you realize, “This.” You tell him. “You.”

He inhales a sharp breath, head slightly nodding before he rises from your neck and brushes the back of his hand against your cheek. “Okay. I’ll give you this. Me.”

~~~

You stare at your phone, reading over your texts with Misuk and Subin even though they should be here any moment now. They finally replied to you about Jungkook.

Subin 2:14pm

🥹 I’m so glad you’re happy about it! Imagine if you weren’t in love with him yet? Lol that would be a shocker! 

Misuk 2:15pm

👍

Misuk 2:15pm

What all has he told you?

y/n 3:09pm

just some memories about how we got together and stuff

y/n 3:10pm

its kinda the only thing that doesn’t make me feel clueless right now

Subin 3:11pm

That makes sense . Just remember to take it easy, okay?💖

y/n 3:14pm

i know 

y/n 3:14pm

im trying at least 

Misuk 3:21pm

What are you doing after 5 y/n? Maybe me and Subin can swing by for a bit

Subin 3:22pm

Yes please 💕

y/n 3:25pm

really?? Id love that! Yes come over come over!!! Jungkook is off doing things so im home alone right now lol

Misuk 4:02pm

Okay we will be there after 5 then 😀

You exit the group when your finger slides over to Jungkook’s latest text now instead.

Jungkook 5:07pm

What do you think about going on a date tomorrow? 

Jungkook 5:08pm

If you’re up for it. 

Jungkook 5:08pm

But I’d love to have a date with you.

You aren’t sure if you’ll ever get used to this new, jittery feeling. The jittery feeling that causes you to smile even without meaning to. 

You look up from your phone when you hear knocking on you front door, excitedly standing to answer because you know it’s Misuk and Subin waiting on the other side. You open the door, welcoming your friends inside your home with a grin.

“Hi.” You sing out and do a little twirl, “Welcome to my humble abode where I live, as a married woman.” 

Subin giggles, her arms wrapping around you tightly in a hug. “Hey.”

Misuk watches you, sighing as she notices your big, genuine smile. 

“Should I order us something to eat?” You gesture towards the living room so you all can sit. “I want to eat a big meal.” You rub your stomach in a cute manner.

Misuk continues to stand at the doorway and you notice she looks deep in thought before she sighs again and cracks a small smile. “You look really happy.” She tells you.

“About some things, yes.” You admit before tugging on her sleeve, “Let’s sit.”

You three find spots on your sofa that you’ve grown to adore while Subin tells you both how Garam wants to go to Italy for a romantic trip, her cute, squealing voice as she gushes about her soon to be husband. You wish you could remember your excitement before getting married.

“You’re so lucky.” You speak softly, “You will have all these wonderful memories of you and Garam and you know, actually remember them. I’m jealous of you!” You laugh, “I’m so excited for you, that you’re getting married soon.”

Subin blinks at you, blush growing on her cheeks as she smiles timidly. “Thank you. But honestly, I was so jealous of you too.” She giggles, “If you think you’re jealous of me, you’d actually be more jealous of you.”

You tilt your head, “Why?”

Misuk chuckles, “Because no one was ever more excited about getting married than you.”

“It’s true.” Subin muses at you, “You were adorable.”

“Oh.” You think about it for a moment. “What was the process like? In a friend’s perspective?”

“What do you mean?” Misuk asks you, “Like, what were you like when you were only engaged? Or what you were like after getting married?”

“Both.” You grin at her, “Did I have a bachelorette?”

Subin snorts cutely, “You had more than just a normal bachelorette.”

“Yeah,” Misuk smiles, eyes going up when she tries to recall the crazy time it was. “It was more like a whole character arc.”

You purse your lips while narrowing your eyes at nothing. “I don’t understand.”

Subin laughs, “You know, most bachelorettes are like a weekend getaway. There might be strippers. Lots of alcohol obviously. Clubs. You know, the basic stuff.”

“You had a bit of a different idea.” Misuk shakes her head, smirk on her lips. “You created an entire monthlong list of things you wanted to do. Spontaneous things. Crazy things. Simple things. Things an unmarried woman would do shamelessly.”

“A month long what now?” You’re trying to think of what the hell could be on this list.

Subin glances at Misuk before questioning her, “It was one thing to do a day for a month right?”

Misuk nods, “Yeah. Ridiculous things.”

“Why?” You question your friends and Subin lights up as she responds.

“You said you wanted to do a bunch of stuff as an individual. Independent. Something personal for you, I guess.”

“I did?”

“Yeah.” Misuk answers. “And after you two got married, you guys made a whole new bucket type list that you did together.”

“It was really cute.” Subin chimes in, “But your personal list was great. You did some questionable stuff though.”

“…Like what?” You ask.

“Remember when I told you that you flashed your boobs to some guy?” Misuk smirks again. “That was like day 14 or something.”

“What?” You gasp, “What the hell! I even mentioned it to Jungkook!”

Subin waves you off with a smile, “Don’t worry. Jungkook helped you make the list and he approved of everything on it. He knows everything.” 

Misuk rolls her eyes, “He was even a part of one of the things you had on the list. Which was totally cheating, by the way! You were supposed to write a song.”

“There’s no way I wrote a song.” You snort, not believing that.

“You didn’t.” Misuk deadpans. “Jungkook basically did it for you, that romantic fucker.”

“He wrote a song with me?” You try to control your lips. Don’t fucking smile like you’re a whipped woman in love.

“More like for you.” Misuk tells you, her back meeting the couch cushion when she sighs. “He was like that.”

“I’m glad you know about the marriage.” Subin softens, her pink cheeks shimmering. “It sucked knowing something that you didn’t.”

“Regardless how I feel about Jungkook now…” Misuk mutters quietly, “You do look really happy so I guess I can suck it up for now.” 

You frown, her implication that her feelings for Jungkook now are anything but positive makes you heart sting. “Misuk.”

“I said you look happy and it makes me happy, okay?” A corner of her mouth lifts. “Seeing you like this…well, it’s nice.”

You try to erase the frown on your face. “Thank you.”

“And I got to say…” Misuk crosses her arms over her chest, “I was totally right and I’m kind of glad I’m able to shove it in your face again.”

“Huh?” You glance between her and Subin who just giggles.

“When me and Jungkook broke up.” Misuk reminds you, “I told you it was because, one, we were better off as friends and two, because I knew that the both of you were going to end up together.”

Your jaw drops a little, remembering exactly what she said.

“You were so ridiculous.” She snickers to herself, “All like, ‘oh my god, that won’t happen!’ but it totally did happen. I love being right sometimes.” 

“Well,” you pout, cheeks warming up. “Glad you were right then.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Misuk studies you for a moment. “Oh right, my mom is stopping by in a day or two but it shouldn’t interfere with our girls weekend.”

“Your mom?” You suddenly beam at Misuk. “I would love her forever if she happens to bake her famous blueberry muffins.”

“Lucky for you I mentioned it to her already and she said she would love to make some.” 

“Can you also ask her to bake that chocolate pie?” Subin moans to herself, “I would probably leave Garam if it meant I could fuck that p—“

“Oh my god, Subin.” You gape at the girl while she stares at you dumbfounded.

“What?” She glances at Misuk now, “It’s a really good pie.”

“It really is.” She nods, “Anyway, my mom is only stopping by for a bit so I’m not sure you guys will get to see her but yes, she is bringing desserts.” 

“Hell yeah.” You honestly dream about those muffins. “Can’t wait.”

“So,” Subin bites her lip, something curious and careful about her expression. “How are things with Jungkook since you found the photo?”

“Hm,” You sink into your couch in contentment. “Interesting? Not exactly what I thought of at first.”

“What do you mean?” Misuk raises a brow, “What did you think it would be like?”

“My delusional mind somehow thought that life was like a movie and we were going to fall back in step to married life—you know, the thing I actually know nothing about—and my memories would magically return. You know? etcetera, etcetera.” You shrug even though you know how ridiculous it sounds, smile creeping on your face. “But instead, I still have all my problems. But Jungkook is great. He seems conflicted, for sure.” You admit to your friends as a heavy sigh leaves your mouth. “Obviously because this is new for me and it’s something that has to develop.”

“Right.” Misuk mumbles.

“But it feels good knowing this isn’t one sided for me. That things went somewhere with him.” 

“Yeah.” Subin reaches over to pat your leg, “Things definitely went somewhere.”

“I just know that once my memories return…” You sit more upright again, determined eyes on your best friends. “Life is going to get so much better.”

Subin and Misuk exchange a quick glance and it doesn’t go unnoticed but you ignore it. Subin pats your leg again and you expect her to say something nice as usual but you realize, neither of your friends know what to say.

~

“The park?” You glance around, the grass tall and green, water calm and the breeze just right. “Ah, you did say we come here a lot, right?”

Jungkook reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers and you try to remain cool, calm and collected even though his touch makes you yearn for him.

“Yeah.” He smiles, leading you towards that same pond on the side where the trees are. “Coming here became an escape for us.” He tells you, lifting up the picnic basket in his other hand.

You hum in contentment though you remember not loving this place as much last time you came. “Didn’t you say there’s some bad memories here though?” 

Jungkook gives a stiff nod, “Yes. But…we also have a lot of good memories here. Plus, I think if we create more good memories here,” he looks around with a hopeful expression. “Then the bad ones will eventually lose their power.” 

You squeeze his hand, “I don’t think anything could be that bad.” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer with words, just a low hum but you notice the detachment even though it only last a few seconds before he turns his head and smiles at you.

“So what’s in the basket?” You nudge his shoulder before you both stop in front of one of the trees that looks out over the pond. “A blanket I hope.”

“Of course.” Jungkook smirks at you, “I know you hate how itchy grass feels.” 

“Ah,” You eye him over, impressed. “My husband would know that, huh?”

He snorts, “Even best friend me would know that.”

“Details, details.” 

Jungkook places the basket to the grassy ground, opening it quickly as he pulls a folded blanket out, getting it all ready for you both to sit. Once sitting with crossed legs over the soft material, you watch as Jungkook pulls a few more items out. This basket reminds you of a magic, endless bag of items. 

“Oh.” Your eyes light up. “Sandwiches?” 

“Mhm.” He hands you one before pulling out his own. “And also,” He digs deeper before pulling out an assortment of fruits on a little platter. “Fruit. But we can’t forget,” he sets the fruit tray down before digging back into the basket. This basket really is like a magic bag of endless items. How the hell did this all fit? “This too.” He wiggles his brows when he shows you a box of an assortment of chocolates. 

“This is cute.” You laugh a little, “Are we going to feed each other?” 

“Is that something you’re into?” Jungkook raises an amused brow, “Because you’ve definitely never told me before.”

“Maybe I just never had a chance to discover it.” You tease him, “You know?”

“Sure.” He chuckles, “If you say so.”

“Anyway,” You admire the calm pond, “It’s a date. A first date for me. Aren’t first dates a good place for people to get to know one another, right?”

Jungkook sways into you, while his fingers are busy unwrapping his sandwich. “You want to get to know me?”

You poke his cheek innocently while you ignore your own sandwich for now. “As a lover, yes.”

“As a lover?” He glances at you, “Okay, go ahead.”

You beam at his willingness, “What are you love languages?”

“My love lang—Ah,” He nods, “That’s an online quiz you made me take one time. I don’t remember…maybe it was the quality time one?”

You giggle, “Definitely. You like quality time and my guess is acts of service.”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” He shrugs cutely.

“Are you affectionate?” You wonder, “Like to a needy degree?”

“Needy degree?” He repeats your words.

“Yeah.” You nod, “I don’t ever recall you being super touchy with anyone you briefly dated in the past. And it’s not like we ever really showed too much obvious affection either.” 

“Ah,” He gets what you mean now. “I might not be super into PDA if that’s what you mean. But in private…well, yes. Any opportunity to touch you, I take it. I love being all over you.” He admits, averting your gaze while he stares out at the pond. “And I really, really like it when you cling to me too. It makes me feel,” His chest rises before releasing a long breath of air. “Makes me feel needed by you. Loved by you. And as stupid as it might sound,” He tries to suppress a smile, eyes still on the water. “I get kind of sad when I can’t hold you whenever I want.”

His words honestly surprise you. You wouldn’t have guessed any of this especially because his touches with you are so scarce even now. How much is he holding back?

“Really?” You’d cling to him right now if he gave you the word. “That sounds like something I might enjoy too.”

Jungkook finally turns his head towards you with an adorable grin on his face, “It is.”

You feel your skin pleasantly burning. “What are some of your favorite married moments with me?”

Jungkook’s smile slightly drops and a frown that’s too cute to take seriously forms on his face, “Why don’t we wait for you to remember too?”

“No,” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, “I like hearing these kinds of things even if I’m unaware. It kind of gets me excited to see it from my perspective one day.” 

Jungkook studies your serious expression when you lift your face again and gaze at him. “Okay, I can share some things.” His all too cute frown disappears when he smiles again. 

“Perfect.”

“There was this time we were visiting our parents for Christmas, I think it was actually our first Christmas as a married couple now that I think about it…anyway, this might be a bit inappropriate—”

“—Thank goodness, I was hoping you’d say something that might be steamy.”

Jungkook laughs at you, “Inappropriate doesn’t automatically mean sexual, you realize that?”

“Oh so it’s not?”

“No, it is but—”

“—How inappropriate are we talking?” You smirk at him.

“If you’d let me tell my story then you’d find out.” He scolds you, “Anyway, we were walking from your parent’s house to mine, they were all already over there, by the way. You took forever to get ready and it was already dark by the time we walked over. And you remember my old car?”

You eye him suspiciously. “…Yes. The magnet.”

“Yup.” He bites his lip while raising a brow quickly. “You made a comment about how you know there’s a long list of girls that I had in the backseat of that car.”

You roll your eyes.

“It’s not even a long list by the way.” His hand goes to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. “But you said and I quote, ‘I wonder if we were actually close in high school, you would have gotten me in the backseat of your car too.’ Which of course just made my imagination run a little wild.” He chuckles, “It almost felt like a fantasy once you said it.” 

“You fantasized about what it would have been like or what?”

“I didn’t really have to rely on my imagination for long.” He admits, voice dipping lower. “I told you that you could easily erase any trace of another girl from that car if you really wanted to.”

Your eyes go wide, “You did not fuck me in that death trap in front of our childhood homes on Christmas.” 

“And if I did?” He challenges you with a sly smile.

“I wouldn’t have let you! I became just another girl in your backseat, oh my god.”

Jungkook’s fingers dance across your thigh, his eyes staring down at the little patterns he’s drawing on your jeans. “Don’t worry.” He says quietly, “Only think of you when I remember that car now.”

You act annoyed, but his touch, even through your jeans…feels enticing. “I better be.”

Jungkook chuckles, finally bringing his hand back to his own lap. “Another favorite memory is when you and I got really, and I mean really bored…and we decided to do something we might have liked to do together if we were actually friends as kids.” 

Your lips form an ‘o’ when you clearly look intrigued, “Okay, that sounds pretty cool. What did we do?”

Jungkook closes his eyes, lips spreading super wide as he recalls it. “We made a homemade movie.”

You immediately nudge his shoulder playfully, “Oh my. A homemade movie? Is this steamy too?”

He scrunches his face, “Something we would have liked as kids, y/n.”

Your teasing smile drops, “Oh yeah.”

“Anyway,” He shakes his head, grin reappearing. “It was so bad yet also so good. We made a scary movie in the house. I’m talking about dramatic light flickering, shadowy figures walking by, cabinets opening on their own and of course, the cheesiest dialogue. I still remember my favorite part. ‘who’s there?’” His voice gets high pitched as he starts dramatically looking around him, getting into character, “’whoever you are…” He pauses again as you stare at him completely amused. 

“wait!” He shrieks, you realize the one he’s mocking is your character obviously...a safe assumption. “It got so cold!” He hugs himself, rubbing his arms dramatically. “Are you a…” He snaps his head to the side, brows comically furrowed. “A ghost?!’” His eyes crinkle as he laughs. “And then it cuts to a scene where the lights start flickering nonstop with creepy music in the background but the best part is, you can clearly see my hand in the background, flipping the light switch on and off.” 

You snort when you hear that part, laughter erupting because you can definitely imagine it. 

You and Jungkook laugh with ease, eyes connected and you realize how natural this all feels. How easy it is getting into this new groove with him and you realize it’s probably because your brain, deep down, feels how familiar and well known this all is. Instead of feeling as nervous as you were previously, you realize this is just you and your best friend. But with a more deeply connected and intimate bond.

You really can’t wait to uncover more of that.

“I’m having so much fun with you.” You tell Jungkook with soft eyes. “I can’t believe this is my life for the last nine years.” 

You hope this bliss isn’t too good to be true. Because you clearly see Jungkook’s lips twitch while an odd look flickers in his eyes. He faces forward again, throat bobbing when he swallows. “You know we’ve barely touched our food, right?” He chuckles, the detached look from earlier revisits and you’re wondering what he isn’t telling you. But you choose to be blind because right now, this magic with Jungkook is all you can see.

~

“Home sweet home.” You yawn out as you and Jungkook walk through your front door. You bend down to unbuckle the straps of your shoes, Jungkook’s hand on your hip as he helps keep you balanced. “It’s only after 8, should we watch a movie or something?”

Jungkook hums out cutely while slipping off his own shoes, “I don’t know…I thought maybe the gentleman thing to do would be dropping you off after our date?”

You turn to look behind you, incredulous look on your face. “Yeah, right.” You scoff, “I’d be mad at you if you did that.”

Jungkook laughs, “I know.” 

You drag your feet to the sofa, plopping down onto it with a satisfied sigh, “Come sit with me.”

Jungkook follows behind, sitting right next to you. No awkward distance this time.

“You know,” Your pointer finger taps against his leg as you look at him, “You can bring your stuff here…you don’t have to pretend to live at that shitty apartment anymore.”

Jungkook leans back, eyes on the ceiling instead of looking at you, “You don’t know what it’s uh, what it’s like to live with me so we should probably not jump into that yet.”

“Jungkook,” You stop tapping against his thigh, instead you rest your palm against it. “If it really bothers you that much you can just stay in the guest bed—”

“—No.” He shakes his head, “That’s okay. Seriously it’s okay.”

“Okay…you’ve been sleeping here most nights anyway so I don’t really see the big deal. That apartment isn’t like you at all.” You watch his reactions to your words carefully, “Doesn’t it make you feel uncomfortable to be in there? There’s nothing in that apartment that reflects you…doesn’t that make you feel like you’re staying in a strangers place?”

“It’s fine.” He mumbles and you notice the detachment once again but then he turns his head to look at you, his features turning softer. “That’s how you felt first coming to this house, right?”

Well, yeah. You nod and when he frowns you immediately wave him off with your other hand, “It doesn’t feel like that anymore. Somehow when you’re here it feels way more like home.”

You can tell he tries not to smile at that but his lips betray him, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You confirm. “Anyway, my mom said that her and your mom are throwing us a little celebration now that I know about us.” 

Jungkook brows pinch, “They’re doing…what?”

“I don’t know, I think they’re excited that they don’t have to pretend like we aren’t together anymore. You know how our moms are…” You chuckle, “They want any excuse to have a party.”

Jungkook nods though he looks conflicted, “Is that really a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? We’re going there next weekend anyway, right? Plus, they wouldn’t listen even if we said we didn’t want it.” 

“Well, that’s true.” He sighs in defeat. “They’re a force when they’re together.”

“Hey, is Pingu still around?” You suddenly look excited. “He’s not still fighting dogs on the streets, right?”

“Pingu?” Jungkook lifts his back off the couch cushion when he leans into you with a curious expression. “Pingu…the cat?”

You nod slowly, “Who else would I be talking about?”

“You remember Pingu?” He glances to the side, gears working in his head. “Or did our moms mention Pingu?”

“No?” You suddenly grow confused. “Why wouldn’t I remember Pingu?”

Jungkook’s face morphs, looking more fixed than before. “y/n…” He meets your eye again before he’s piecing it together. “Mom didn’t adopt Pingu until just a few years ago. I think we had only been married a couple years…but you remember him?” 

Your mouth falls open to speak but suddenly you’re realizing he’s right…you don’t remember Pingu ever existing as a 24 year old so that means… “Holy shit.” Your eyes begin expanding as your mouth falls open further. “I remember Pingu.”

You remember Pingu!

Jungkook mirrors your exact expression, a giant, excitement filled smile starts growing on his face and then he’s grabbing your hands, “y/n, you remember…” Now he’s laughing, pure joy in the sound. “You remember that fucking cat but not our wedding.” He grips your hands tighter, still exuding his excitement. You can’t but laugh too.

“Yes!” You squirm in your spot, completely thrilled. “I do!”

You both relax, excited eyes on each other when you both soften, his thumbs now brushing against your fingers, “That’s amazing.” He speaks much quieter now, front teeth momentarily sinking into his bottom lip as he smiles. “You really remembered something. This is…”

“Good.” You finish, you match his smile with your own. “I remember that damn cat.”

He tilts his head with a benevolent glint in his eyes, “More will come.” He whispers. “The memories, I mean.”

“No matter how insignificant, I’m happy to remember something so normal.” You tell him but Jungkook shoots you an amused grin.

“Insignificant?” He squeezes your hands. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell my mom you just described her cat like that.”

You can’t help but laugh, “Life is crazy, huh?”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he doesn’t lose the softness on his face, “You have no idea.” 

You pull your hand away from his when you raise a finger and tap the side of your head, “Eh, I might have a clue.” You chuckle. 

Jungkook’s lips tug down, serious eyes on you when he leans closer to you, “Yeah but no matter how crazy…it’s better if we’re together.”

You feel your heart whisper to you in steady, rhythmic beats. Something about its desire to break through your ribcage, falling into your belly with adrenaline pumping in love, in thrill, and into the hands of this man. It wants nothing more than for Jungkook to steal it away.

You take a breath. Eyes focused on him and you don’t blame your heart for feeling this way.

“We are together.” You whisper, your hands going to either sides of his warm face and he nods, looking lost in your touch. Your heart wants to surrender yourself to this man and you are so willing to oblige. As if he wasn’t already the one who owns it. 

“Yeah.” He pulls one of your hands from his face and brings it to his lips, pecking your palm with light, fluttering kisses while he watches you watch him.

“Hey,” You call for him slowly, dreamily, lost in this moment. “How’s…”

“How’s what?” He places one last kiss to your wrist now before lowering your hand.

You suddenly crack a small smile making him eye you curiously.

“How’s our sex life?” You blurt with complete shamelessness.

Jungkook’s eyebrows climb slowly towards his hairline, suddenly looking taken aback before he snorts to himself, a chuckle at the back of his throat. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you asked that.” He shakes his head, “You really…you’re really asking me that?”

You show him a sheepish smile. “Why not? I mean, if you don’t want to tell me…I could always just,” You look around innocently, “You know, find out for myself.” You speak slowly, eyes finding his again.

Jungkook frowns a little, “Not yet.” He swallows, clearly trying to clear his mind from the image of you finding out just how incredible the sex is between you both.

“Are you going to give me another speech on taking things slow?” You tease him.

Jungkook looks pouty, meaning your teasing is successful. “Yes.” He says with a firm nod and furrowed brows. “It isn’t fair for you…I know you in ways you don’t even know that I know. You don’t…I just know you differently. I don’t think it’s fair.”

You release a long puff of air, “You’re the only one who sees it like that, Jungkook.”

“We have to…develop things like it’s the beginning—for now—so please…let’s not rush, you know?”

You chew your lips for a moment before asking, “Did we wait a while back then too?”

Jungkook’s face falls before an embarrassed look flashes across his face, cheeks heating up. He’s so cute, you think. “Um, no. Honestly, we did sleep together the first night.”

You smirk, “Oh really?”

You watch a blush darkens his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Hmm,” You scoot a little closer to him, leaning your face closer with seductive eyes. “Do you think you could tell me about it?”

Jungkook feels himself drawn closer to you, but he glances away for a second. “Well…we had sex.”

“No, no.” You give him a knowing look. “Can you describe it to me?”

Jungkook releases a shaky breath, lips curved into a small grin. “You want me to describe the night we first had sex?”

“Yeah.” You tell him, “But I want to know the details. From start,” You pause, leaning more forward when your warm breath is at his ear. “To finish.”

He tenses at your close proximity but he doesn’t have it in him to back away, your mouth at his ear, your hands steadying yourself on his thighs with how you’re leaning into him. 

“You want details?” He quietly chuckles, his face feeling hot. “You want to know all the things we did? What I did to you?”

“Mhm.” Your lips graze the shell of his ear, the tickle making his hands act on instinct when he lightly grab your hips, a deep breath leaving his mouth, disappointed his hands moved on their own. “What you did to me…what I did to you.”

“I told you after we first kissed we didn’t want to stop.” He says, voice lower. “I swear I could have just kissed you the entire night,”

“Really?” Your hands slide up to the middle of his thighs, his muscles tense beneath you. 

“Yeah…” He swallows hard, your lips still at his ear when he feels your breaths buzzing around his skin. 

“How did I kiss you, Jungkook?”

He closes his eyes when he feels your lips pressing against his ear. “Um,”

You smile against his ear before you finally pull back a little, your face now just inches from his, his eyes opening again. “When we kissed…did you get as hard as you did the other day?”

Jungkook’s fingers dig into your skin as he lets out a frustrated low groan, “y/n.” He’s warning you.

“What?” You smile. “I’m just wondering how it went, that’s all.”

“You really want to know how that night went?” He asks you, eyes growing darker, maybe heavier.

“You’re right…I should just let you speak, huh?”

“I kissed you,” He begins, “And the moment my mouth was on yours, I felt like I was going to explode. You kissed me back. So fucking needy, did you know that? That you’re needy?”

You stare at him, lip twitching. “I could guess since it’s you.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Mm, you’re right. But do you know how handsy you are too?”

“Was I not handsy enough for you the other night?” You challenge him with a dark gaze. 

He keeps his eyes on you, so focused as his muscles grow more and more tense, your hands still sliding up his thighs. “I won’t answer that.” He says.

“What happened after we made out?” You continue to push the conversation.

Jungkook eyes close, like he’s seeing the vision of it behind his eyelids. His lips part when soft breaths escape. “I kissed you any place you’d let me.”

“I think I’d let you kiss me anywhere.”

He nods, eyes still closed, satisfied smile lifting his lips. “Yeah.”

“So then?”

“I kissed your neck, sucked your skin until you grew impatient with me.”

“Hm,” You watch him carefully, his flushed face making you see the effect on him. You lean forward again, his eyes suddenly opening when your lips attach themselves to the side of his neck. He doesn’t stop you. He only continues.

“I sucked your skin until you were mewling beneath me.” His voice sounds hoarse, eyelids growing heavy again when he feels how you do the same thing to him now. “I kissed down your body, taking your clothes off.”

“Mhm.” You hum against his skin, lips pressing against the side of his neck over and over, fingers pressing deeply into his thighs.

“Fuck,” He groans lowly, “I…touched you everywhere. Feeling you with my hands and my mouth.” He doesn’t realize how his hands that grip your hips are jerking you forward, your body obeying his unintentional commands. “How I tasted you…fucked you with my tongue, my f-fingers.” His hands slide to your lower back, “You felt so tight, y/n. W-Wondered how you’d take my cock.”

You pause the ministrations against his sensitive skin, an intense ache flooding the senses of your core. “And how did I take it?” You breathe heavily against him, “Hm?” Jungkook urges you forward again and before either of you can make sense of it, your knees are on either sides of his thighs, seated in his lap while your chests push up against one another.

“You took me so well…” He looks up into your eyes, a lewdness swirling messily in his dark irises. You bite onto your lip, core barely pressed over the bulge you didn’t get to feel the other night. You keep your hips still though. The aching between your legs only growing stronger at the lack of friction. 

“I hardly fucked you for three minutes before you were creaming my cock, you know that?” 

“Sounds like you knew what you were doing to me.”

“Sounds like you were desperate to have me inside you.” He retorts with a lazy smirk, eyelids half open at this point. 

“Keep telling me.” You softly command, your ass scooting back on his thighs a little so you aren’t sitting directly over his hard length anymore. 

He think you’re being wise.

“I thought we were going to leave it at that but no,” He closes his eyes again. Imagining it. “You crawled over me and took my cock into your mouth. Fuck, you swallowed all of my cum and you—"

You sneak a hand between your bodies, your palm pressing down onto his bulge, making him choke on his words, losing his focus. His eyes remain closed when his brows pull together. 

“Keep going.” You begin rubbing your palm against him, his resolute crumbling when he feels how you touch him over his jeans. It’s not exactly comfortable but it’s fucking relief.

“Um,” He struggles to keep it together. His breaths have grown heavy and erratic, chest rising and falling with each wordless moment that passes.

“Did you like the way I sucked your dick, Jungkook?” You ask him, your core dripping wet just under your pants. 

His tongue pushes against his cheek, trying so hard to focus. The concentrated look on his face makes you so turned on. He’s losing his control, you can tell.

“Your-Your mouth is heaven, love.” He pushes the words out, “Your pussy is too.”

You grind down onto his thighs, unable to keep yourself still anymore. The friction against your clit makes you softly moan above him, your hand pressing harder on the bulge that continues to grow. 

You take the next natural step…other hand going to the band of his jeans, fingers going to the top button when Jungkook, much to his dismay, opens his panicked eyes when his fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you.

“No,” He breathes out roughly, “We shouldn’t. We can’t…y/n we shouldn’t.”

Even he hates what he’s saying, you can tell.

You remove both of your hands from his body, slight sting to your ego when you nod in understanding. He shakes his head, hating how rejected you look.

“Hey,” His hand goes to your jaw, eyes still coated in lust but he tries to clear the fog. “You have no idea how badly I want to be touched by you. How badly I want to touch you.” He bores into your eyes, “But we can’t. Not now. We…” He looks how you feel. “We just shouldn’t.”

You know he might be right no matter how much you don’t want him to be. You want him so badly in every way possible. But you sigh, smiling for him and he immediately relaxes.

“I get it.” You say, “But just so you know…I don’t doubt that you want me too. I can feel how badly you want me, Jungkook.” You lean down slowly, hesitant because you’re afraid it’ll send the wrong message. But Jungkook closes his eyes the moment he realizes you want to give him a kiss. He accepts it. Kissing you back softly. Well, It seems you’re both needy.

~~~

You and Jungkook sit across from one another at the dining room table, amused glances and smiles getting exchanged by you both while you munch on the lunch he made. After the little accidental fun you had together last night, you both decided to relieve the tension with some movies to distract this feeling between you.

He slept on the sofa like usual. And you got off by yourself in your bedroom with him in your mind when you came. 

You know Misuk is going to be over at any moment. She said her mom did in fact make blueberry muffins and she was going to drop some off to you while they’re still fresh. 

Once you’re done eating, you wash yours and Jungkook’s dishes in the sink when there is knocking on your front door.

“Can you get it? It’s Misuk with the muffins,” You inform Jungkook, he nods in understanding, feet taking him out of the kitchen while you continue to wash the dishes from his cooking. 

In the distance you can hear the door opening and shutting and the slight mumbling of voices. You’re wondering what they’re talking about since they aren’t exactly the best of friends right now. You’re curious but you don’t want to snoop. Besides, they’ll probably be walking in here at any moment.

You’re scrubbing a pan when you feel bothered from the inside out. They are still mumbling in the living area. You won’t snoop.

But well, you want to pretend you aren’t snooping but with your back pressed against the wall and ears on high alert while you try to breathe silently as possible—well, you aren’t sure that this isn’t snooping. Especially because you left the sink water running so it isn’t suspicious.

You try to focus on their voices and you’re definitely making out words.

“You don’t have to keep reminding me, Misuk.” Jungkook grumbles. “But once again, I’ll remind you. These are doctor’s orders.”

“Oh?” Misuk scoffs, “How fucking convenient for you.” 

“Can you keep your voice down?” He obviously scolds her. “Look, it makes sense, okay?”

“How the fuck does it make sense?”

Your hands feel clammy as you listen, concern etching itself onto your face.

“Because I’m the one who it closest to y/n. Obviously I—”

“—Closest?” Misuk spits out the word. “That’s fucking hilarious, Jungkook. ‘Closest’” You can hear how she mocks it, your confusion growing so incredibly strong at their exchanges.

“Misuk—”

“—Closest.” She repeats one last time. “She hasn’t spoken one fucking word to you in two years.”

You feel your blood run cold. Heart completely stopping. 

What does she mean? What does that mean? Two years what? You haven’t spoken to Jungkook in two years? No, that’s not…

“But right,” Misuk lowers her tone even more. “Closest.”

I am so heart broken. As a mother myself, I’m not happy to find that I was partially right in my assumptions with this story. I can’t wait to find out more but I’m so sad she can’t remember Haru. Obviously it is too emotionally painful for her to handle so her brain guarded it hard. I think it’s interesting she said she knows why she “blames him” and Misuk used the same language rather than saying “I know why it’s Jungkook’s fault”. I would guess it had to do with his job and somebody went after Haru to hurt Jungkook. OR- he was taking care of him at the time and he wasn’t as attentive and that’s how he got taken. Either one is awful. Ugh- I’m so attached and invested in this story. This poor family!

Our Time | JJK (Five)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: swearing, frustrations of amnesia, mentions of alcohol, lots of panicking, crying from multiple characters, mentions of death, mentions of vomit multiple times, feelings of betrayal and anger and sadness, next warning is a major spoiler: confirmed kidnapping of jk & ocs c h i l d blah blah blah for those who don't want spoilers and don't need warnings lol

a/n: only one more chapter until the introduction of this story is complete. And then the true plot will begin. 🤭please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You remember when you and Jungkook truly became friends.

You had never struggled to make friends. You naturally lured people in with your energy, maybe even your charm as a person. But after spending a month in Seoul already, you had never felt more out of place and out of your element. Every face you came across was the face of a stranger. It was like you were sitting in front of a TV screen and watching a crowd of people who didn’t matter to the plot of the movie. Just there. Living a life that had nothing to do with you. 

And you were the same to them.

You had only had maybe two conversations with your roommate in the small dorm. The first conversation was hardly even an introduction and the second one was her asking you if it was cool that she would sneak her boyfriend in every now and then. You didn’t mind. But you thought it meant you all would become friends but that proved to be untrue. 

The first week of classes, you realized many of your classmates are already friends or the ones who barely spoke were focused on their studies. That leaves you, someone with no friends and someone who isn’t that focused on school the way others were, feeling completely alone. 

The Friday night after the first week of classes was supposed to be a night of partying with your new friends and the new independent life as a new adult. But instead you wandered around aimlessly, lost and lonely. You didn’t really want to spend the first weekend as a college student in your dorm but where exactly were you going to go? Well, you decided to stick to campus and ended up browsing the library. 

A book to demolish during the weekend didn’t sound so bad, now did it?

When you were in the library, your eyes darted around, for no particular reason but hey, maybe something would stick out to you. And something did.

Or more like someone.

Your eyes grew twice their size when you spotted someone familiar. And goodness, nothing felt better than seeing something familiar in this new world.

You walked up to a table that sat at least six people but you stared with excited eyes at the only person occupying the space. 

“Frog boy?” You had blurted in pure happy rage. 

The frog boy in question kept his eyes on the book in his hands, only releasing a long sigh before lifting his eyes to you and cocking a brow. 

“You’ve known me almost your entire life and you don’t even know my name?” 

You had seen the playful glint in his eyes when he met your gaze.

You rolled yours, “Fine. Jungkook. Or you know, Ribbit.”

You hadn’t felt this excited and relieved since moving to Seoul. (Kind of.) (It’s not like you two were ever friends.) But that was about to change. Oh yes, that was going to change.

Whether your little frog boy, Jungkook, likes it or not.

“Do you go here too?!” You had asked him.

He only sighed again, looking back down at his book before answering with an unbothered nonchalance, “Nah.” And then he raised the book up, showing it to you with a straight face. “I came all the way to Seoul because only this library has…” He looked at the cover, “A freshman course Literature book.” 

“Oh.” You nodded in understanding, equally straight face.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you, “You realize I’m joking, right?” 

“That would make sense.” You nodded again, pulling out a chair across from him and taking a seat. “So we both go here. That’s great. We’re friends now.” 

“Friends?”

“Unless you’re still too shy.” You remember how you challenged him.

But Jungkook raised another brow, “Am I still eight years old to you?”

“Maybe.” You had laughed before mocking. “When I see your face, I keep imagining it like,” You had scrunched up your features, pretending to cry while shaking your shirt. “A…a…a…a…a…f-frog!” 

You remember how he laughed. 

His laugh was pure, genuine and contagious. You remember how you joined him and it’s like the past lonely month you had spent in Seoul didn’t exist anymore. 

You two would start meeting up once a week at the library. Very casual. He would try to study and you would talk his head off. Jungkook never once complained. You remember looking forward to your weekly hang outs and you had hoped he felt the same. 

Jungkook obviously knew you were itching for more.

He looked over a textbook that he wasn’t paying any attention to and said, “You know we can hang out more than once a week, right?”

You basically had jumped out of your chair, cleaning up around you when you said, “Perfect. Let’s go to a party that my roommate told me about but didn’t invite me to.”

“A party?”

“A party.” You nodded.

Jungkook eyed you for a moment, looking hesitant. “I didn’t intend to party though.”

“Come on. We’re in this together.” You fluttered your lashes at him, trying your best to look convincing but he only huffed out an annoyed breath before giving in.

It was your first college frat party. Jungkook’s too. 

It was also the first time you got super drunk. Jungkook too.

You two had really opened up and bonded this night. You realized Jungkook definitely wasn’t the shy boy you remember as a kid—that makes sense. You told stories and ended up in your own world. It was a lot of fun and you knew college in Seoul wasn’t going to be so lonely after all. 

You remember by the end of the night when you two were walking, completely intoxicated, back to the dorms when you convinced him to just crash at your place. It was risky, trying to sneak him in, but it worked. You both stumbled inside, drunk off your asses when Jungkook claimed he didn’t feel good.

“Don’t throw up.” You remember warning him. “Or I’ll throw up too.”

“If I throw up,” He gulped anxiously, “I’d hope you would too. Didn’t you say we’re in this together?”

“D-Don’t even think about it.” You swallowed down your own drunken nausea. 

And then he did throw up.

And then you did too.

Naturally, you were inseparable after this. 

Weekly hang outs turned almost daily. You would talk to him like any other close friend and he would do the same. It felt good and natural and like you two had been friends since the day you shoved a frog down his shirt. And that first winter break, you two traveled home to Busan together, surprising your parents because after all these years of being neighbors, you were finally friends. 

You two had convinced your parents to have a joint cook out and you remember how afterwards, you and Jungkook laid on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars and talking about life. You remember how you asked him what he envisioned for his future.

He glanced at you, eyes lingering on your face for several long moments before he narrowed them, “We’re on vacation and you’re asking me to think about my future?”

You both laughed.

“I don’t know if what I’m currently in school for is something I actually want to do with my life. I’m hoping I’ll get inspired and suddenly know what it is I have to do.” He had finally answered.

You remember understanding his words, the feeling resonating with you. “Me too.”

You remember turning your body towards his and smiling, “Have I told you how glad I am to have seen you at the library and I forced my friendship on you?”

He had snorted, turning his own body towards you as well. The moonlight hitting his face, illuminating his features just right. He almost looked straight out of a dream. “You didn’t force your friendship on me.”

It was your turn to snort. “Liar.”

He stared at you for a moment, teasing smile pulling at his lips when he began drumming his fingers against the metal hood of his car. “And why would I ever lie to you?”

You remember the vibration you felt beneath your body when each of his fingers landed on the metal with a rhythmic beat. You remember the sound like a melody and his words were the lyrics. 

You remember how it felt when he basically sang his silent promise to you.

“Yeah, you’d never lie to me, right?” You had teased back but there was a quiet and genuine conversation happening beneath the teasing.

“Never.” He told you. And you believed him.

And you should still believe him, right?

But Misuk’s words are repeating relentlessly in your mind, ‘Closest. She hasn’t spoken one fucking word to you in two years. But right, closest.’

You want to have confidence in Jungkook because you should. But his silence after her words feels like cold, quick spider legs are racing up your spine, creating a chilling uneasiness and a spasm of worry and discomfort crosses over your face. You’ve never liked spiders.

What does Misuk mean by that? Why would she say that? There is no way you wouldn’t talk to your husband for two years. There must be some kind of misunderstanding. But your body remains stuck to the wall like you’ve been superglued and you’re afraid the moment you peel yourself away, your skin will be ripped off your bones. 

You know there has to be some kind of explanation because her words don’t directly translate to you and Jungkook not actually speaking for two years but your brain sends signals throughout your body that you have every right to be as anxious as you feel. 

Because your brain knows more than it’s letting on. Your brain holds all the mysteries that it doesn’t want to show you. And your body listens to the signals it sends.

“Be worried.” They say. 

But no matter if your skin separates from you and becomes a part of the wall in your kitchen…you have to go out there and get some kind of answer. Because you can’t handle for one more thing in your life to not make sense.

You tell your shaking legs to walk.

Even while you feel imprisoned by fear, they move. Your body turning the corner of the kitchen wall, water still running in the background, as you make your presence known. 

Jungkook and Misuk’s heads turn towards you when they feel you. And they mirror one another’s expressions. Watching you in numbed horror. 

“y/n…” Misuk says your name, blood draining from her face but you can tell she’s trying to look normal. “Hey.”

“What do you mean?” You’re surprised you have a voice. “Why did you say that?”

Jungkook’s mouth falls open, panicked eyes boring into your face. But he doesn’t speak.

They quickly glance at one another, an understanding that you’ve heard their conversation and you see how Jungkook’s expression twists into one of anger before he looks completely ashamed when he meets your eye again.

“What’s going on?” Your feet take you closer, your brain sending the signals without you telling it to. Your brain must be making fun of you. Mocking you. Wanting you to find things out when it already has the answers. Like it’s playing some game. “Why did Misuk say that? Why are you two on bad terms? Why,” You’re walking faster, getting closer as adrenaline starts running through your veins, your mouth unable to stop speaking.

“I asked what’s going on.” You stop in front of them, “Why—why did Misuk say that? Why are you both quiet now? Why can’t you answer me? Why are you looking at me like that?” You can’t stop the questions from spilling out of your mouth, eyes going frantically between Jungkook and Misuk. “W-Why aren’t you answering? Why are you doing—why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me feel this way? Why—why aren’t you—” Your heart is rapid inside your chest, thumping against your ribcage, trying to run away and hide now. “Fucking answer me because I don’t know what the fuck is going on!” Your chest heaves uncomfortably, eyes blown wide as nothing makes sense inside your mind.

Jungkook stares at you, eyes just as wide before he slowly shuts them, his lips sticking together in a tight line, nostrils flaring. 

“Nothing…” You quiet your voice, slight tremble when you speak. “Nothing already feels real to me. But marrying my best friend does make sense. But not talking to said husband for two years does not.” 

You concentrate on the two in front of you, watching their expressions and reactions to your words carefully. Jungkook looks pissed while Misuk blinks at you with obvious guilt on her entire face. 

“Say something!” You yell at them, both of their bodies flinching and your panicked thoughts only grow more wild and out of control. Fear is bursting your veins now. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what is known. The fear that your brain is just hiding something from you that could possibly make you heart crumble and shatter. 

“I…I…” Misuk looks around, eyes unable to meet yours anymore while she sets the muffins down onto the table at the front entrance. “I should—should leave.” 

Jungkook is quick to throw Misuk an incredulous look, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He spits at her. “You’re the one who opened your fucking mouth and opened this can of worms. And now you want to leave?”

Misuk snaps her head towards Jungkook, glowering eyes on him. “Should I stay? Say everything?” 

Jungkook swallows hard and you can see anger spiking his body. “You’re right. You’ve done enough. Just leave. I’ll walk you out.”

“I don’t need you to wa—”

“—Let’s go.” He walks forward, opening the front door as she seethes, walking past him.

You watch in disbelief, brows pinching when you try to stop them. “Where—”

“—Just stay here.” Jungkook tells you, his voice softens when directed towards you. “I’ll only be a minute.”

And just like that, Jungkook and Misuk are out of your house, front door slammed shut. 

How could they? How could they leave you here with your anxiety gripping your core and making you feel more lost and estranged in this world all over again. 

You stand here, blood pooling into the heels of your feet. A sudden coldness surrounds you and you feel faint. What is going on? What exactly has transpired in these last nine years? 

And where the hell is your explanation? 

You wish you could shut off your brain. Tell it to stop coming up with ridiculous theories when it knows the truth deep down. It’s just having fun with you at this point. 

You don’t think you can master the uneasiness you feel and control it. 

Your tense body twitches the moment your front door is opening again and Jungkook is slipping through with downward eyes. You wait anxiously for him to come closer to you and explain that it is not what it seems. But his body language throws you off. It throws off the confidence you’re supposed to have in him. 

Jungkook’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth, his own anxiety radiating off his body like heat off a space heater.  You want to read him like a book, like a book with an obvious ending. But you can’t. You can’t read him since he is in another language right now.

“Jungkook.” You call for him, trying your best to stay in one piece. 

He tries to look up at you but his eyes can’t manage your eyes. Your face. Your body. He can’t manage to feel what he’s feeling but a million times worse when he sees you. He walks closer to you, stopping just a foot in front of you, tense body looking more uncomfortable than what you’re feeling. 

“y/n…” He can’t even say your name without his voice cracking, a harsh breath forcing its way out of his mouth while his hands immediately go to his face, fingers rubbing into his skin with a roughness that makes you more worried than before. “Fuck.” He mutters in into his hands.

“Talk to me.” It’s not a suggestion. He knows this. You’re not asking. You’re telling him. You’re telling him to explain why the hell Misuk says that you two are not close and you haven’t spoken in two years. 

Jungkook’s hands drag down his face, the color has left him, a growing paleness that makes you think he might faint or puke at any moment. He’s struggling to even look at you. 

But he does.

And you see the pain in his eyes.

“I don’t…” He croaks out, breaths uneven. “I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to—how to explain. I don’t know what to fuck—fucking say.” He finally stares at you, gaze so intense you almost wish he would go back to looking away. 

You swallow your nerves, your need for answers stronger than your need for ignorant protection of your feelings. “We’re married. Yet we haven’t spoken in two years. According to Misuk, anyway. Is that true?” 

He’s still staring and you’re growing more panicked. Needing an answer now but his silence is telling. 

“I asked if that’s true.” You repeat with a colder tone. 

Jungkook releases a shaky breath, “It’s half true.”

Your lips twist, “What does that mean? We do talk?”

“No. We aren’t married.” He tells you, voice quiet and eyes ashamed.

You take a step back, confusion growing. “But…but I saw—”

“—We were married.” He clarifies. “But we aren’t…” He closes his eyes for a moment, stopping them from growing wet. “Anymore.” 

You take another step back, face hardening as the confusion only triples. “We’re…divorced?” You ask him, but you hate that you even have to ask.

He stays still in his spot, the shame and regret thick in his voice when he answers, “Yeah.”

Your posture suddenly stiffens, letting out a forceful breath but because of the tightness in your chest, breathing is suddenly the hardest task.

You try to fight for optimism but your veins that were once bursting are filling again, but with a deadly acid that poisons your body. It’s running through you, corrupting and decaying any ounce of understanding. You need to breathe but you couldn’t possibly fight for one breath when your insides are turning rotten. 

Jungkook finally takes a step forward but your feet carry you away from him, several steps back until you’re against the edge of your sofa. 

“y/n…” He says your name but you aren’t sure he deserves to because he…

“Y-You lied to me?” You finally manage to say the one thought that keeps pushing against your raging forehead. “You lied to me? You lied?” You blink at him, “You lied to me, Jungkook? You made me think we…?” You shakily gesture between your bodies, “You let me think…” 

“I…” Jungkook’s expression grows desperate. “I didn’t—I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t…if I told you truth it would just…”

“The truth?” You look at him, disappointment in your killer gaze. “You lied to me. You lied—you lied. You would rather lie to me than—”

“—Yes!” He shouts, breathing heavier than before. “It’s one revelation after the other and you can’t handle the…” 

Your disappointment, your shock, your betrayal are slowly turning into anger.

“You lied to me.” You say, knowing it’s a fact now. “Why?”

Jungkook’s lips are parted and you’re both waiting for his explanation but it doesn’t come.

“I asked you why, Jungkook.” You feel your body sinking. An unbearable sadness creating a space inside your chest. “Tell me why and maybe…” You want to be reasonable. Maybe he had to or maybe he…no, why would he lie? Why would he lie to you? 

“It’s complicated.” Is the answer he settles for and the anger inside you finally snaps. Your body is struck with betrayal. 

“Com—complicated?” You ask the word in earnest. “You’re joking, right?”

“y/n…I asked you to always trust—”

“—You’re asking me to trust you after you lied to me?” Your jaw tightens, “Just tell me and we will see if—”

“—No.” He shakes his head, growing paler by the second. “I-I can’t. I really can’t.”

“You can’t tell me? Why?”

“Because I can’t!” He grows exasperated, his eyes blown out. “I fucking can’t. I can’t. I can’t say it. I can’t do that. I c-can’t.” His body gives up on him, shoulders shaking when he falls to his knees and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t make me say—say it. I just can’t.” 

You look down at him, your confusion making you turn to anger instead of anything else.

You’re hurt.

But right now, being mad feels easier.

“Please, y/n.” His entire face makes you hurt more. “Please just…”

“Leave.” You say the word quietly. His eyes shoot open and he stares up at you. They’re blood shot and teary. “Please just leave.” 

Jungkook tries to stand again, his knees are weak but he tries anyway.

“y/n…” 

“Just leave.” You’re the one begging now, “Please just leave. Let me…just let me be right now.” You feel your own eyes grow wet, stinging and burning. Throat tight but you manage to beg him again, “Please just leave.”

Jungkook is trying to speak to you with his eyes and your brain, deep down, seems to understand him but your brain doesn’t want to let you in on this secret. He nods, blinking his eyes when a tear falls and his anxiously wipes it away. “Okay.”

He clearly doesn’t have it in him to fight you on this. Because for whatever reason, he can’t.

~~~

You wonder if this is how you felt when you first got divorced. Or maybe just a similar feeling. Like you’ve been stranded, abandoned and left for dead. Like your body has been drained of all the blood that pumps through you and someone has scooped out your heart and other organs and you’re now just an empty shell and a sorry excuse for a human being.

You might think to yourself that it’s quite dramatic to feel that way but somehow you feel even worse than that. 

You haven’t slept and you aren’t even really sure if you’ve even breathed since the news. You’re restless and anxious. You’re angry. You’re sad. And you’re heartbroken. You don’t even know what it must have felt like when you and Jungkook broke it off. What must have went wrong? So wrong that you two would go separate ways and you two wouldn’t speak to one another. 

A thought crosses your mind though…Misuk is upset with Jungkook. And she said you haven’t talked to him. She could have meant that you both haven’t spoken to one another in mutual agreement but Misuk’s hostility and choice of words have you believing different. 

So what exactly happened? And why does Jungkook refuse to explain it to you? 

You can’t imagine a world where he would betray you so badly that you’d divorce him and never speak again. But again, it’s been nine years. People do change. But you felt it in your bones…the happiness that coursed through his body when he was with you. You could feel how much he loves you. So then, what? 

You touch the screen of your phone that rests by your thigh on the sofa, the light is bright and blinding but you catch the time on the screen. It’s after 6 am already. Your mind working in overdrive to come to some sort of conclusion. But you realize you aren’t considering everything. 

You cannot be blind to the world around you. 

Your parents must know you’re divorced but why are they so willing to agree to your marriage? Why did they only seem happy? Why do they still love Jungkook despite that you’re divorced now? They still trust him, that is obvious.

But Misuk doesn’t. And Subin seems to be on the rocks but she doesn’t seem totally against him either. In fact, you overheard her in the café. She said they don’t know everything. You remember that being strange. Know what?

But in the end, you need to consider Jungkook the most. 

You two are apparently not together. And you two aren’t on speaking terms.

Then…is his apartment really his apartment? Suddenly, you feel even more lifeless at the thought. You can’t imagine the Jungkook you’ve always known…someone warm, cozy and tidy…living in that place. The countless bottles of alcohol, the little to no food, the stale air and even a hole in the wall that resembles too closely to the size of his fist. 

You also need to consider his reaction to everything as well.

You know in your heart of hearts…how off and conflicted he’s been since the beginning. You also know how hard things must have been for him as well. But you can’t help but still feel hurt, angry and bitter at the fact that he easily lied to you and kept up a façade about something you dreamed of. Making you feel like a fool for being so openly happy with him. When it wasn’t the truth. 

And maybe you are a fool.

A fool because 33 year old you might have the resolve to never speak to Jungkook but you, the you that exists now, doesn’t. And your brain is calling you a fool. Because it’s just a game for your brain. Your brain that hides all the answers and the truth. While you sit here completely clueless.

Clueless…

Clue…less…

Clue…?

Have there been any clues? Clues to the truth that you’ve missed? 

Think. You need to think.

You sit forward on your couch, elbows on your thighs while your head falls into your hands. 

You have to think. What are you missing that could—

The attic.

Your body moves quickly, suddenly standing from the couch when your head snaps towards the direction of the hallway. The attic…he hid your life away in the attic. You returned his keys to him—obviously—but you don’t think you locked it back up. Unless Jungkook went out of your sight to make sure it was locked again…then it should be unlocked and waiting for you to reveal your life. 

Your heart has seemed to return back inside your chest, racing wildly and uncontrollably, making you feel dizzy. You just have to take the first step in the attic’s direction and you could possibly uncover more. 

But you don’t move. Why? Why is it that you’re desperate for answers but your feet stay glued to the wooden floors? 

Fear has made you its prisoner once again.

But you need to release the shackles, break free and run out. Run far away from this thing that’s jailing you. Ignorance isn’t something you associate yourself with and you won’t start now.

Determined, though afraid, you take the first step. Then another. And another. Feet heavy with each step but you take them. You’re you. You will always walk towards the right thing. Even when others disagree…you know, the right thing is the truth. Because you will not be ignorant. 

You make it inside the mostly empty guest bedroom. It’s almost hotel like, no personal touch can be seen. For the first time, you feel odd being inside here. But not odd in the way that feels uncomfortable. But odd because it’s familiar. You take a moment, hand lifted towards the bedroom wall, flipping the light switch before your fingers lightly brush against the wall.

The paint in here is newer than the painted walls in the rest of the house. 

A weird feeling accompanies your touch.

But once your eyes land on the ladder you placed against the wall, you’re quick to shake off any other feelings before grabbing it, lifting it and taking it out into the hallway and setting it up underneath the attic door before you groan in realization that you don’t even need it. 

If it’s unlocked then you only have to pull the string and it should open. 

And hopefully that’s the case.

You slide the ladder off to the side, deciding you’ll put it away again when you’re finished. You stare up at the ceiling, eyes on the dangling string and you know what you must do. You have to fight off this hesitance, this fear and walk towards the truth that tries so desperately to hide from you. Okay. Deep breath. Any breath at this point. You reach up, fingers wrapped around the string tightly before you give it a tug. 

Your eyes expand when the door cracks open, clearly not enough pull to open it fully. 

It’s unlocked.

Heart still racing, blood rushing and insides twisting. You pull again. Harder. And the door opens and the wooden staircase comes down and you unfold it to its full length. All you have to do is go up these steps and search through the physical evidence of your life. The boxes. 

Your breaths are bated with each step you take that take you into the hole in the ceiling. The darkness feels consuming and you feel the chill wrap around your body the moment you enter inside. Walking further, you find the light and now a soft yellow makes the room glow. 

The boxes glare at you. Challenging you. ‘go ahead, open me.’ They whisper tauntingly. You glance around, feeling a chill at all the cob webs and no doubt, spider webs in the dark corners of the attic.

Fingers brush against the top of a few boxes, dust left on your fingertips, quickly wiping it off on your pants before you pry the first box open. It’s the same first box you opened last time…loose papers, notebooks, random sticky notes with words that make zero sense to you. You grab one notebook, open it and read the first page.

Jeez, your hand writing is messy.

Kim Joo Won > only Wednesdays and Fridays

Geum Jan Di > Mon-Fri

Cha Do Hyun > Tues-fri

Park Hae Yeoung > Tues and Thurs only

Lee Min Ho > Mon-fri

Park Jiyoo > Thurs and Friday  was off the Friday…see where he was. Confirmed out of town since Wednesday

You keep reading over the paper but you don’t understand what you’re reading. Your confusion grows…why do you have a list of people and days of the week connected to their names?

You turn the page and there’s a list of times now. Ranging from morning to the evening. With each persons name linked somewhere with a time of…are these work hours? Clock in and clock out times? 

You turn the page again but you can’t read your handwriting. Many words are scribbled out. 

You decide to close the notebook and set it back inside the box. You grab another notebook, opening it to a random page when you notice different pictures of people taped to the paper. Men and women with their names written next to them. Your eyes go wide. You see the name Lee Jaesung written next to a photo of a man you’re sure you recognize. 

It’s the man from the super market.

Next to his name is more scribbled words.

Lee Jaesung > Knows nothing.

And next to his picture and the words are pen scribbles that look done out of frustration.

What the hell is this? Why is the guy from the market inside this notebook with a bunch of other people?

You close the notebook, placing it inside again while you ignore this eerie feeling.

You push the box away and open another one. It’s the box with old clothes you had seen last time as well. You must have been wanting to donate them or something. You’re about to close the box when something catches your eye. On a piece of folded fabric beneath other articles of clothing, your eyes catch something that throws you off. A small patch of a cutesy koala clearly ironed onto the fabric. Your fingers go to touch it, curious about it for some odd reason. You pick at the little koala, the corners lifting off the fabric and you realize it might have been there a while and it’s starting to peel off.

It's cute, you think. 

You decide to look at your shirt in whole, hands suddenly digging it out of the box, unfolding the shirt when your heart stops. Face completely focused on what you’re holding and you can’t seem to shake off the feeling that consumes you. Your confusion grows. 

The shirt is small. Too small to be yours. 

Suddenly, your skin feels cold and clammy. Your brows pull so close together, dropping the shirt to the ground when your hands go back inside the box. You pull out more of the clothing. Clothing you are now realizing is not fit for an adult. Tiny shirts, tiny pants. You drop all of the random articles to the ground and at the very bottom of the box…tiny shoes.

These are clothes for children.

Boys clothes. 

Your fingers grab at the clothes frantically, your breaths growing heavier and heavier.

What is this? Why do you have this? 

You abandon the box, heart racing even faster as you make your way towards the other side of the attic where you found the box that held your old wedding photo. You need to breathe, you remind yourself. You’re no good if you pass out from lack of oxygen filling your lungs. 

But something haunting is crawling creepily over your skin.

You swallow hard, hands rubbing against your arms as if trying to brush away the spiders that must be crawling all over you with their millions of legs. But you only feel the unwanted goosebumps infecting your skin. 

Once again hesitant…you stare at the box that’s half open. The box that held the photo. 

You slowly reach for the left flap, lifting it and giving yourself a full view of the rest of the box. There’s more frames and you wonder if you can handle seeing more pictures of you and Jungkook living a life you don’t know of. 

You gather your resolve, taking a shaky breath before reaching inside. 

It’s a framed photo of you, Jungkook and your parents. You set it to the side before reaching in again. Framed photo of you and Jungkook at that park. A framed photo of you, Jungkook, Misuk, Subin and people you don’t recognize at a long dinner table. A framed photo of you and a group of people you don’t know holding up a ‘congrats on the promotion’ sign. 

Your hands shake, seeing yourself in all of these scenarios you don’t recall. 

Reaching the end of the box, you see one last photo of you and Jungkook wearing headbands that say ‘2017’ while sharing a kiss. 

You need to breathe. No matter how overwhelming this is…you need to breathe. 

You organize the photos back inside the box before pushing it away and opening another one. A really dusty one. You notice this box is taped closed and you struggle with peeling the tape back and getting it open. But once it is, you slowly open the flaps and reveal what is inside.

Again, your heart is aggressively throwing itself against your chest.

You are confused again. Slowly dipping your hands inside, you pull out a toy car. You bring it closer to you, inspecting the toy. A stabbing pain hits you relentlessly in your lower stomach. You carefully set it down before digging inside the box again, this time pulling out a zoo animals Lego set box. You don’t like this. Your brain is sending signals through your body again. You aren’t supposed to like this. Your brain is warning you.

You swallow even harder, your throat feeling tight and dry. 

You reach inside the box again and pull out a plastic robot, maybe around 6 inches in height. It looks like the most used toy so far…scratches across the plastic and even a missing hand. You turn it around, twisting it to look more carefully when you notice something written on the bottom of the foot with faded marker.

Haru.

It spells the name Haru. 

Who is Haru?

Your breaths won’t even out and relax. Who is Haru? You bring the toy close to your chest, gripping it tightly but your fingers are feeling weaker and weaker.

You know this toy. You think you do, anyway. It’s the first item in any box that feels familiar to you. And you aren’t sure what to feel about that.

Your lips are drying and even when you poke your tongue out to lick them, it doesn’t help. They continue to dry with an intensity that has you mistaking this cold air for the dessert. 

You place the robot back into the box, closing it softly before turning towards another box. 

You have to keep going.

Even though you aren’t sure how you will survive the rest of your searching.

Your chest aches. A physical pain from the pounding of your heart.

You reach for another box, sliding it towards you but it’s heavy. Heavy like the box that held photos. You get it opened and your breath hitches the moment you see this box also has photos. On top, a picture of Jungkook brushing his teeth in the bathroom mirror. His sleepy eyes and sad attempt at a peace sign. You hate that your eyes are stinging.

You grab another frame, eyes narrowing at the photo.

A picture of you and Jungkook at the park with his hand over your stomach as you both smile.

No…

Your chest rises and falls much faster. 

You reach for another photo and you don’t mean to shakily gasp, eyes burning at the sight. Your stomach looks huge in the photo, Jungkook’s face pushed up against it while you’re laughing. 

You aren’t capable of registering what the fuck you’re looking at. Your hands shake harder, the photo suddenly looking blurry. That can’t be you. That isn’t you. It’s not you.

“W-What…” Your voice is barely audible to your own ears. 

Your entire body goes rigid and cold.

You set the photo down before reaching for another one and as soon as you look at it, your shaky hands drop it. A loud slam to the attic floor and glass shattering at your feet. You blink at nothing, tears welling as you feel the blood completely drain from your face. You’re shocked frozen. Quick breaths that make you feel like you’re dying. 

You try so hard to snap out of it but how could you? How could you process the broken framed photo at your feet? How could you? 

You squat down, trembling fingers wiping away the hundreds of pieces of glass. The shards are sharp but nothing feels more piercing than the image that stares back at you. You pick up the picture, eyes blinking rapidly, ridding the tears that are forming. Tears because how could you understand and accept what you’re seeing?

You in a hospital bed with Jungkook’s arms around you. You both look ecstatic, teary eyed and smiling widely while in your arms…is a baby.

A baby.

You scoff underneath your breath. A baby.

Don’t you mean…your baby?

Immediately, just at the thought, you truly begin to panic.

There is no way. No fucking way you had a child. A child with Jungkook. You can’t believe this because nothing has felt more fucking unreal than this and nothing feels scarier. You don’t remember this. This can’t be you. This isn’t you. You aren’t you.

You drop the frame again, the loud thud making you wince before you step away slowly. Your eyes anxiously dart around again. The boxes are once again taunting you. You can’t. You can’t be in here anymore. You can’t do this anymore. You don’t want this anymore. You don’t want this life anymore. You want a life you can recognize but this is too far out of your element for you. This isn’t your life. This isn’t you. This isn’t you. This isn’t you.

Your breaths grow heavier, chest getting tighter and you’re wondering what it’s like to breathe because you don’t remember the last time you did now. Not normally, anyway. Your eyes can’t blink back tears anymore. You’re too overwhelmed to stop yourself from sobbing. Sobbing hard and uncontrollably. Pathetic whines leaving your mouth as you tremble at the sight of this attic. 

You need to get out of here.

You quickly turn the light off, stumble down the steps and without bothering to close the attic, you rush to the living room and collapse to the sofa. 

Tears flooding your cheeks. Sobs wracking your body. Misery consuming your soul. 

You are a mother?

Were a mother?

Where is this Haru?

Is Jungkook hiding an entire child? Perhaps Haru is with Jungkook’s parents? 

Everyone agreed to keep a fucking child from you? 

They shouldn’t have kept this from you. Sure, you’re 24 in your mind and nowhere near ready for a fucking child. But you birthed this kid and have no clue who he is. Your brain won’t even give you a piece of a memory that deals with someone you should love dearly.

Anger. Guilt. You aren’t sure what to feel right now.

But devastation for this entire thing should be a good start.

And you think you truly deserve that explanation.

You stuff your face into the cushion of the sofa you’ve grown to love and you cry. You cry hard and you cry loudly. You soak the sofa with your tears and you wonder how you could possibly accept this. Accept something that not only doesn’t feel real…but can’t be real.

You imagined marrying your best friend and that’s a place you could start. A place that was easy to accept. But this? This is hardly something you can recognize as a life of your own.

And you need Jungkook to tell you everything now.

Or you might truly go insane.

You don’t care it’s the ass crack of dawn, you feel for your phone that you know you left here on the couch and when you feel it, you bring it to your puffy face and try to find Jungkook’s name through your blurry vision. And you call him.

He must not be sleeping either because he answers before the first ring is even over.

“Hello? y/n?”

You don’t hide the fact you’re crying, “Come over. Now.” And you hang up.

~

Jungkook sits next to you, body turned towards you, completely stunned. You’re looking weak, unable to look at him for too long without growing emotional. He’s guilty. He lied to you. And you’re upset. But your puffy, red eyes has his heart aching dully in his chest. 

“Please talk to me, y/n…yell at me, hit me, anything you want but please say something.” He quietly begs you. He doesn’t dare reach for you, though his hands yearn to. Instead, he drums his fingers against his thigh.

You’re still unable to look at him, your brain still trying to process everything. But you know you need to speak up and get real answers. Answers that are the truth. And you need to hear them from Jungkook, himself. 

“I went,” You pause, trying to clear your throat but it still burns, feeling tight. “I went into the attic.” 

Jungkook’s fingers come to a sudden stop. “You what?” 

You finally lift your eyes to him, “I said I went into the attic.”

His face pales.

“I saw a lot of things.” Your gaze flickers down again, eyes stinging once more. “I saw that I was pregnant. I found his—Haru’s things…” 

Jungkook stares at you, pain and terror flashing in his eyes, his bottom lip quivering the moment you said Haru’s name. 

“We have a child and you didn’t say any—”

“—I…I…” He chokes on his words, his entire body tensing like it’s on the verge of shutting down.

“We have a son together and you didn’t mention anything?” You give him a hard stare, eyes looking cold and you see how he physically shatters under your gaze. He shatters just like the glass in the attic. He too is at your feet. At least it feels that way. “Say something Jung—“

“—Fuck!” He cries out, eyes slamming shut as his shoulders and chest begin to quake. “I can’t fucking do this.” He breathes out roughly, “I can’t do this again.” 

Your head pushes back in slight shock, “Do what?”

“Go through this.” He bows his head, silent tears falling to his lap. “I can’t tell you again.”

You feel struck with something eerie, “Tell me what again?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. He isn’t able to. He chokes on his words, chokes on his breaths and chokes on his tears. He’s shattered but there is nothing sharp or piercing about him. He’s soft around all edges. He’s soft. And he’s devastated.

“I’m—I’m not r-ready.” He cries into his hands. “This ha-happened too q-quickly. You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t…I can’t…” 

You feel the urge to reach for him and you do, your fingers going to the back of his head, massaging his scalp and neck. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?” You suddenly feel worried. 

Jungkook won’t calm down. A harsh reality suddenly all around you both. 

“Where is Haru, Jungkook? Why are you crying? Is he with your parents?” You ask him question after question and he only cries harder. You’re trying to piece it together. Where is your son? The kid you gave birth to? The one you don’t remember? He’s not…he can’t be…?

“Is he…dead?” You ask the question slowly between long breaths. “Is he—”

“—No!” Jungkook finally lifts his head, swollen eyes on you. “He’s not. He isn’t. He isn’t. He-He can’t be. Haru is…” He shakes his head violently, “He isn’t. Haru is alive. He’s…”

“Jungkook…” You see the pain and terror in his eyes still. And maybe pain and terror have always lived inside his irises. And you never understood it until now. “What happened?”

Jungkook wipes his face aggressively, trying his hardest to clean himself from his sorrowful tears. He takes deep breaths, eyes falling to yours where he seeks comfort.

“A little—a little over two years ago…” Jungkook takes another deep breath. “Haru….” He pauses, struggling to say it.

“What happened…?” Your heart is racing again.

“He—He was kidnapped. He was taken from us, y/n.” Jungkook spills the truth. The words fall from him mouth like vomit. “He was abducted and he—he hasn’t been found.”

You aren’t really processing this. You can barely believe you have a child. But now you have to believe this child is missing. You aren’t understanding. How could you?

“W-What?” You drop your hand from his hair. “What are you talking about Jungkook?”

He sighs out heavily, silent tears still leaving a miserable trail down his cheeks. “Haru was taken.” 

Haru…your son…was taken?

“And they closed the case. Too fucking early but they closed the case. They presume he’s…they don’t think he’s…” He can’t say it. But you hear him loud and clear. The police gave up on looking because they believe he’s dead.

You do feel sad. Maybe even heartbroken. But there is a disconnect because none of this sounds real to you. 

You look down at your lap, “This…this is around the time we got divorced?”

Jungkook chokes on a silent sob, “We divorced soon after.” He admits to you, “Losing my boy, losing you…and I lost my job eventually too.”

You look back up to him, “Why?”

His expression twists, shame gracing his features. “I was a mess, y/n. I couldn’t…I couldn’t handle myself or control myself. Finding Haru was all I could focus on but it led to too many bad things and eventually…Captain Kim, he felt for me.” Jungkook wipes his face again, “But they couldn’t keep me anymore.” 

Your heart sinks at his admission.

Jungkook has been suffering on his own while you are lost on all this trauma. 

This was obviously hard on both of you. It was too hard on both of you. He couldn’t handle himself? Control himself? But what about you? What were you like in all of this? 

Are you lucky that you don’t remember? 

Or is not knowing even worse?

“Okay…it’s okay…” You whisper towards Jungkook. Your heart mending itself from all the broken pieces because it makes sense now. Why Jungkook lied. Why he’s been so careful with you finding things out. Because this is…a lot. But right now, you want to comfort him. Because no matter what 33 year old you was going through…24 year old you just wants to hug her best friend.

~~~

It's been a few days since you found out about Haru. A little boy who doesn’t feel real to you. 

He was three years old when he was kidnapped.

And if he is still alive…he should be five now.

You’ve been detached and numb, unable to face anyone quite yet. Jungkook checks on you but suddenly, meeting his gaze has become harder. And you think he agrees. This is a huge shock for you and you see how repeating this news is just as hard for Jungkook. He’s burdened with something miserable that lingers in his eyes.

You finally decide to reach out to your parents today.

Needing them to know that you know everything now. 

You call your mom, phone to your ear as you listen for each ring until her sweet voice is calling a melodic ‘hello!’. 

“Hey.” You mumble into the phone, “Is dad with you?”

“Your dad?” Your mom sounds far from the phone, “Hold on, I’m putting away some groceries. Almost done!”

You smile a little, “Okay.”

After some shuffling in the background, you hear your moms voice in your ear now. “Okay! What’s up?”

“Is dad with you?” You repeat your question.

“Oh.” Your mom sighs out, “Nope. He’s with Jungkook’s father, they’re out playing golf.”

“Oh.”

“Why? Is everything okay? Are you trying to get a hold of him? Is he not answering?”

“No, no.” You shake your head, though she can’t see you. “I wanted to talk to both of you…but it’s okay. You can just fill him in.”

“Fill him in?”

“I know me and Jungkook are divorced.” You say the words quickly. “Why did you pretend we were married?”

It’s silent. Just soft breaths barely audible on the other line. “Well,” Your mom finally breathes out, “I think it was easier that way.” She admits. “You two love each other very much so I just didn’t see the issue.”

You scoff, “We’re divorced yet you—”

“—It’s not like he’s a bad guy. Or you’re bad, either.” She cuts in. “Things just…”

“I know about Haru.” You tell her. You hear how she inhales a sharp breath.

“H-Haru…” She repeats slowly, “You know because…?”

“I found out.” You tell her, “I don’t have my memories.”

Your mom is quiet on the other line before you hear her sniffling.

“Mom?”

She takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry.” Her voice is shaky. “This isn’t fair for you, honey. I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, “It’s not like I remember.”

“You know…after the abduction…” Your mom grows more and more emotional, “There were days where I wished I could take your pain and heartbreak away. But not remembering your son is also another pain and heartbreak.”

You don’t mean to get teary eyed at that. You try to keep your voice even. “I-I guess.”

“After everything…” Your mom clears her throat, “You really shut down. Of course you did. You’re a mother who lost her child. But…you just…you shut everyone out. You didn’t really talk to me or dad much anymore and we felt helpless. How couldn’t we feel that way?” 

“Mom…”

“We were devastated when you filed for divorced.” She says. “You and Jungkook were both heartbroken and in a bad place…it was obviously too much for both of you. But instead of figuring it out together…you fell apart.”

You divorced…because losing Haru was too much to bear?

Your heart sinks deeper. You can’t imagine what Jungkook felt.

Or you. But you won’t understand that one until you feel it again one day when your memories return.

“The pain was too much but I wish you would have stayed together…what you needed was each other.” 

“Oh.”

“And…we’re all devastated about Haru. But seeing the both of you completely broken…was another heartbreak we had to feel.”

~

You’ve thought about the conversation you had with your mom earlier all day. You sit here, trying to analyze her words. But they aren’t hard to understand. She claims you and Jungkook fell apart and divorced because the pain of losing your son was too unbearable. And you realize it is a solid reason. 

Your foot taps against your wooden floor, anxiously waiting for Misuk and Subin to arrive. You sent them a long text explaining everything and they said they’d be over as soon as possible. But you’re anxious. Anxious that even they know about a son you gave birth to when even you don’t. Anxious because you realize you feel guilty over it. Guilty you can’t remember something that is supposed to be precious. 

You sit here when your hands fly to your forehead when it suddenly starts pounding. A horrible ache pushing against your skull and you wince at the pain. Shit, you haven’t taken your medicine today. Standing from your sofa, you intend to walk to the kitchen but fists get knocked against your front door.

They’re here.

Taking a deep breath, your feet take you to them instead. And as soon as the door is opening, Subin and Misuk bring you into their arms while they whisper their apologies and sorrows. You wish you were still numb. But you aren’t. You tremble in their hold instead and let yourself cry into their arms.

After several minutes and your determination to calm yourself, you finally pull away from the girls and offer a small smile. “Sorry.” You try to laugh to ease your sadness.

Subin pouts at you, “No.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Misuk smiles at you, “I’m sorry. Sorry for everything…you overheard me and it all turned out like this…”

“Well, you aren’t wrong.” You bump her shoulder. “Let’s sit.”

You girls walk into your living room and plop down onto the sofa. “This sucks.” You try to laugh but your chest feels heavy. “How is it that my life turned out like this?”

“I know…” Misuk frowns. “I really am sorry that things spiraled and you found things out like this…I hated lying to you. I hated seeing everyone lie to you. You deserved to know the truth because I know that’s…” She bites her lip, worry written all over her face. “That’s what you’d want. But I truly don’t know what would have been worse…finding out like this or finding out because your memories returned and everything would hit you like a ton of bricks.” You glance down at your hands, trying to mull over her words. You think she’s right. But you think she’s right in a way of the you who would want it this way because you didn’t know any better.

“I just,” You sigh out, “I just can’t believe me and Jungkook’s marriage failed when we needed each other most.”

Your head snaps up when you hear Misuk scoff.

“What?” You question her while she narrows her eyes at nothing. “What is it?”

The space between her eyebrows crease, “Your marriage didn’t fail because of your mutual heartbreak over Haru’s abduction, y/n.” She finally meets your eye. “Is that what you think?”

For the millionth time, your heart beat grows faster. “What do you mean?”

“Your marriage failed because you blamed Jungkook for it.”

Your heart comes to a complete stop. “What?”

“You blamed him for the kidnapping.” She clarifies, “But I guess Jungkook conveniently left that part out.”

“What…what are you—“

“—Misuk.” Subin says her name with a harsh, cold tone. “Enough already.” 

“What?!” Misuk grows frustrated, eyes on Subin now. “She already knows this much—”

“—You don’t even know everything!” Subin cuts her off, “It’s not like we even know what y/n was thinking at that time! She didn’t even…” She suddenly gets quieter, her eyes going to you now. “She…you…” She meets your surprised gaze at her outburst. “You barely even spoke to us after the incident.”

You feel cold all of the sudden.

“You…” Subin tears her gaze away, “You got so distant. And we don’t blame you, of course we don’t blame you. But,” She looks at Misuk again, “How could you blame Jungkook for that?”

“y/n had her reasons!” Misuk throws back at Subin, “She told me herself.”

“It was fucking vague.” Subin rolls her eyes.

“Yeah? Well it was hint enough.” 

You look between the girls, their own tension forming between their bodies. “Wait, wait. Just hold on. What is happening?”

Subin looks at you again, “Nothing.”

“No.” You shake your head, “What is Misuk talking about?”

“Look,” Misuk takes a deep breath. “All I know is that you blame Jungkook. Before Haru was taken…it was clear your marriage was rocky even then. You didn’t talk about it though. But something was wrong.” Misuk fills you in even when Subin glares at her. “And I trust you.” 

On one hand, you’re flattered Misuk is such a ride or die. But on the other hand, you’re only left feeling more and more confused. 

But Jungkook’s voice is in your head now.

Him asking you to always trust him. 

It doesn’t sound like Misuk has solid evidence to be so against Jungkook. She only has your word. And since you can’t trust your own self right now. You’ll believe in Jungkook.

~~~

You want to believe in Jungkook. But Misuk’s warning words remain ringing in your head. You lay here in bed, mind racing with theories that make you want to vomit. Your head still hurts and something odd keeps bothering you. Like a memory wants to push itself out of your brain but it keeps holding it back.

You toss and turn in bed. The same numbness has returned. 

You don’t think you mind. You accept the numb sensation that takes over your body from the inside out, you disappear with it. You’re grateful because it provides the escape from the raw reality that you suffer. 

It is a preference.

Rather than feeling overwhelmed with a million emotions chaotically colliding inside your brain…you feel nothing but guilt from escaping. And you prefer this guilt over others.

You turn your head to the right, towards the window, when you feel your phone vibrating against your mattress.

Who is calling at this hour?

Grabbing your phone and looking at the screen, you see Jungkook’s name. Is he so lucky to escape too? Or is he in the reality where he suffers?

“Hello?” You murmur into the phone. 

“Hey,” Jungkook speaks quietly, “Um…I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Cute that you think I’d be able to sleep.” You half joke. “What’s up?”

Jungkook sighs into the phone, “Honestly…if you’re up for it. Want to talk? In person?”

You sit up from bed, “In person?”

“Yeah.” You suddenly hear soft, distant knocks on your front door. “I’m kind of already here.”

You lower the phone to your chest, head turned in the direction of your open bedroom door, where you know Jungkook is in the distance outside at your front door.

You quickly end the call, standing from the bed when you make your way to him. Door opening and a gust of wind enters your house with his scent carried with it, hitting your nostrils and you melt. But you shouldn’t.

“Hey.” You nod towards the inside of your home. “Come in.”

Jungkook gives you a timid smile before walking in, slipping his shoes off and going to the couch.

“I—”

“—Actually,” You cut him off before he can say anything. “I want to lay down. I feel…drained.” You admit to him with a tired smile, “Can we lay in my bed? Just to lay. And talk.”

Jungkook looks conflicted but he sees how exhausted you clearly are. “Okay.” He whispers, “We can.”

You lead him to your bedroom, for some reason you go to the side of the bed closest to the window even though you usually sleep on the side closest to the door. You lay on top of the blanket and rest your head atop the fluffy pillow. 

Jungkook takes a breath before climbing into the bed as well. A small smile threatening to pull his lips apart. You notice.

“What?” You question him but he shakes his head, suppressing the smile.

“No, it’s just…this is my side of the bed. And that’s yours. It’s like your body remembered even if you don’t.” He tells you quietly, a shy expression on his face. “It’s silly to think about that, I guess.”

You feel your cheeks grow warm. Embarrassment clear on your face. “Oh.” You’re both facing one another.

“Um, it’s—” Jungkook rests his head against the pillow but he pauses because he’s sure he feels something. “What’s…” He reaches underneath and his curious gaze turns somber. “Haru’s robot…” He whispers, the toy in his hands.

You grow more fucking embarrassed.

“Oh shit.” You blurt, completely forgetting it was under that pillow. “I just…it…” It was the one item in the attic that felt even a little familiar to you so you went back up to get it. “I felt…connected to it somehow.” You admit to him.

Jungkook nods slowly, “That makes sense. Haru wouldn’t go anywhere without this thing. The bath, to daycare, to Busan, any car ride—” He laughs a little. “Even needed this friend when his stomach hurt and he had to poop.” 

You crack a smile, “Thanks, that makes me feel great for having it under my pillow now.”

“Eh, I’m sure it’s clean. You always made sure everything was clean for him.” Jungkook lowers the robot to the mattress, “I know you aren’t aware. But you’re the best mom in the world.”

Heat crawls up your neck, “That feels weird to hear.”

“I know.” Jungkook frowns but he tries not to. “But you should hear it.”

“Should I?”

“Yeah.” He tells you with earnest eyes. “He reminded me all of the time that you were the best mommy in the world. He,” Jungkook breaks into a small grin, quietly chuckling when he sorts through his own memories. “I remember when I would take him to work and in front of everyone I would tell him I love him and he would respond with, ‘and I love mommy.’ Such a brat, that kid.” He laughs, keeping his emotions at bay. 

You can’t help but giggle too. 

 “He was always changing. One minute he would be outgoing and talk to anyone and the next he was guarded and shy. And I know all kids say wild stuff but he really said the wildest stuff.” Jungkook continues to smile. “I never knew what crazy thing he would say in public that would make me look like a questionable dad. Swear he did it on purpose.” 

“He sounds fun.”

“He is. Never bored around him.” Jungkook’s smile turns so soft. “He always slept through the night too. Once he was out…that was it until the morning. He might have been a pain in the ass sometimes but I really appreciated it that because,” Jungkook’s soft smile drops and his gaze darkens with something coy, “He never interrupted my time with you.” 

More heat envelopes your body. “That so?”

“Heavy sleeper too.” Jungkook tells you, “Never knew what we were up to.”

He finally cracks a teasing smile and you push his chest with a small laugh. “Shush.”

Jungkook still smiles at you but it turns more serious. “I know this is all…a lot for you. But being able to talk about Haru with you feels…” He sighs before swallowing his emotions. “It makes me believe in living again.”

You pinch your brows together, “What do you mean?”

“I think I’ve only been surviving.” He admits. “I haven’t felt alive since the last time we were really together.” 

Without thinking, you reach for him. Palm resting flat against his beating heart. “You feel alive to me.” You whisper.

“That’s because you’re here.” He whispers back, “This,” He taps your hand, talking about his heart. “Hasn’t made a single sound until you told me you loved me.” 

You wish his words wouldn’t affect you. But 24 year old you is affected. Because 33 year old you isn’t here right now. 

You aren’t sure if that’s good or bad. 

“Can I ask you something?” You gaze into his eyes. His eyes are soft and might you say, full of love when he nods quickly.

“You’re working on a case with your ex-partner Jimin…is it about Haru?”

Jungkook slowly closes his eyes when he frowns, “I can’t tell you anything about it, y/n…I can’t involve you.”

You sigh, “Okay.” Then you ask him something else. Feeling direct. “Misuk doesn’t trust you. Why?”

Jungkook suddenly looks annoyed. “Because she doesn’t know anything. It’s all assumptions on her end but you trust me, right?”

You think you do. So you nod.

“When your memories return…can you still trust me?” He asks you, but it sounds like he didn’t direct the question towards you at all. And that causes an uneasiness to stir.

But still, you are choosing him right now.

You glance to his chest and notice your hand is still against him and you laugh a little, “Sorry. I’m still touching you.”

“It’s okay.”

“I swear I’m not trying to throw myself at you.” And then you scrunch up your features. “Oh no, that’s what I was doing, right? Previously…I was totally forcing myself on you.” 

Jungkook can’t help but snort a little, smiling tugging at his lips. “You didn’t force yourself on me, y/n.”

Now it’s your turn to snort, “Liar.”

His fingers go to your hand again, softly drumming them across the top of your hand and you feel his heart beat harder. “And why would I ever lie to you?” 

You feel the vibration against your skin when each of his fingers land with a rhythmic beat. You recall this sound like a melody and his words are the lyrics. 

You notice how it feels when he basically sings his silent promise to you.

“Yeah, you’d never lie to me, right?” You ask, voice cracking. “Not really, right?”

Jungkook’s fingers come to a stop before he’s wrapping them around your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.” 

You quickly shake your head, “No, I can understand.” Your voices quivers. “I was angry. But I can understand.”

“I never lied about my feelings, you know?” He keeps holding your hand in his. “I do love you. I have for so long and I’m never going to stop.”

He’s staring so intently into your eyes and you’re wondering how you couldn’t trust this man. You can see his heart in his eyes and it’s beating so wildly for you.

~~~

The market is busy. It seems everyone is trying to do their grocery shopping today. You and Subin roam the aisles, plucking items off the shelves with giddy smiles. You’re going to bake Jungkook his favorite homemade cookies. You finally found the recipe books and wrote down all the ingredients. 

Thankfully, since it will be your first time giving it a go, Subin has offered to help you. You’re both searching for vanilla but it seems that either they’re out or you’re totally missing it.

“What if we just skip the vanilla?” You say nonchalantly but Subin gasps.

“Bakers all around the world all have a tear running down their face right now not knowing the reason why all because you just said that!” She says dramatically, “Vanilla is crucial!”

You can’t but laugh, “Yeah, yeah.”

“We still need brown sugar too, right?” Subin eyes the shelves. “Is it just me or is it so unorganized?”

“You know how people are,” You shrug. “When they don’t want an item anymore they just stick it anywhere.” Then you point at something, “That explains why there’s a package of uncooked chicken on the shelf with flour.”

“That can’t be safe.” Subin shudders. “Anyway, did you already grab the chips Jungkook wanted?” She eyes your cart, “You’ll totally forget. Go grab them and I’ll finish finding the vanilla and brown sugar.” She grins at you with rosy cheeks. 

“Oh I did totally forget.” You say, glancing at the cart as well. You look up at the aisle numbers and search for the word ‘chips’. “Sweet, it’s only two aisles over. Be right back!”

You walk over to aisle four, eyes browsing all of the chip options when you spot a few you ‘d like as well.

“Hmm, these ones.” You grab a bag, “And these ones.” Another bag. “Oh, yes…these ones too…” You hold three bags in your arms. “Right, I need to get Jungkook’s too.” You whisper, eyes searching for the brand he wanted. You smile when you spot them, trying your best to carry the three bags in one arm while you reach for the other bag. On your tip toes, you grab it and successfully hold all four bags. Feeling accomplished, you quickly turn around but bump into someone, dropping all of your chips.

“Ah, sorry, sorry!” You apologize to the stranger. Your eyes meet and you’re met with the familiarity like you are every time. “Oh. Nabi.” You say her name like you two are fully acquainted. 

Nabi stares at you wide eyed before offering a smile. “Hi.” She says before glancing around, her kind eyes suddenly looking anxious. “How are you? Um, here…let me help—”

“—Oh no, it’s okay!” You smile. But you both bend down at the same time, bumping heads and you’re about to giggle about it but suddenly it’s like images start flashing in your mind. You try to brush it off, reaching down to grab the chips instead of focusing on whatever images you saw that don’t make sense.

You reach for a bag at the same time as Nabi and when your hands touch, you swear the world goes completely still. Your eyes meet in panic and suddenly more images are speeding around in your brain and before you know it, they aren’t just images. But full on scenarios.

And for the first time, they do make sense.

You pull your hand back quickly, eyes blinking rapidly while you try to step back.

“y/n?” Nabi’s kind eyes turn concerned. “Hey, are you okay?”

You take another step back. 

Blood draining from your body. 

These aren’t just scenarios.

These are memories.

You stare at her, bewildered. Your panicked breathes leaving your mouth quickly as you try to ease your nerves. “Um,” You swallow thickly. “I—I…” Your fingers begin to tremble and you’re unable to hold the chips anymore.

Nabi watches you carefully, “Are you—”

You don’t let her finish, your feet taking you far from here. Panicked, anxious and alert…you race back to Subin and the moment she sees you, the adorable smile gets wiped off her face.

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately, her hands going to your shoulders. “Hey, talk to me.”

But you’re breathing too quickly, your eyes blown wide. 

“What’s wrong?” She repeats, her worry evident. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Hey, y/n…calm down.”

Calm down?

You can’t calm down. Your breathing is harsh and heavy. Your chest is closing in on itself.

You wanted to trust Jungkook. You wanted to ignore Misuk’s words. You wanted to. Really. But with all the things you’ve just seen fly through your head, and the few new memories that sit tightly tucked inside your brain…you don’t know that you can.

Misuk might not have had any solid reason…but your own memories feel like reason enough.

You’re silently gasping for air, struggling to breathe. But you manage to say the words that make you feel like you’re fucking dying inside. “I know,” You swallow hard. “I know why I blame Jungkook.”

~

Next

Oof. That was so good!!!! If she’s not in love with him already, I will be for her. Definitely expect a bit of a chase from him now. He seems smitten even if he doesn’t realize it. 🤔 super excited to read more!

runaway : habits — jjk [m]

⇢ PAIRING ; tattoo artist / biker!jk x reader, best friend’s brother au 

⇢ SUMMARY ; The offer with Jungkook begins. 

⇢ GENRE ; fwb (they’re not rlly friends tho), age gap (4 years), smut, angst, fluff, slow burn(?), best friend’s brother au | wattpad ao3

⇢ RATING ; 18+

⇢ WARNINGS ; oc hates love, her judging tendencies show a lot (she’s a good person tho i promise), JUNGKOOK IS A TEASE (no bc…..my god), corruption kink?, again jungkook is a fucking tease, reader is kinda impatient, smartmouth reader, soyeon being suspicious, everyone being suspicious to oc basically, oc and jk are really unfiltered, jungkook is the epitome of shamelessness, jk loves to tease oc, oc has stretch marks and we love them, allusions to a bad mother, keep an eye for details, maybe some foreshadowing, maybe not, explicit smut neck k^ssing, dirty talk, s&xual tension, oh god, the chains, degrading k^nk, praise k^nk, protected s^x, *ss slapping, hair grabbing, n^pple sucking, c*nnil*ngus, f&ngering, de*pthroating, g#gging, missonary, doggy style, begging kink, some body worship, overstimulation if u squint hard, some corruption kink, r*ugh s^x, manh^ndling, snowballing, c*m eating, jk shows his brat tamer tendencies but he doesn’t go full on oc…yet, there’s just so much here i need holy water for writing this, after care, jk is sweet with the after care it made me melt, oc being suspicious again, oc is good at lying. i censorned words here bc tumblr is annoying and is flagging posts lol

⇢ WC ; 20.7k (i…..am so sorry omg)

⇢ NOTE ; THIS CHAPTER WAS A PAIN IN MY ASS. literally no other way to describe it lol. i had no inspiration for weeks, that’s why this update took so long :’) this chapter is a whole monster oh my god, my apologies. this is also like 50% smut so i need holy water after this one lmao dhcjhjsdhf. i hope u all like it, though, it took way too long but i hope i did u all some justic with the monster that is this chapter <3 love u all, and i hope u enjoy !!

pls do leave some feedback, it helps a lot !! or simply reblog prefer to be a silent reader <3 or just enjoy haha, but these things help a lot <3

⇠prev. \ next. ⇢

SERIES MASTERLIST · MAIN MASTERLIST · TAGLIST · PLAYLIST

“What offer?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows.

You blink, “What do you mean, what offer? L-like….the offer….two nights a-ago?” Your voice slightly trembles, and your hands start to do it too, your throat getting dry as thoughts start to pass inside your mind.

You look into Jungkook’s eyes, searching for any possible giveaway that he is lying; a scrunch of his nose, a twitch in his eye—but you find nothing, he looks serious, and you start to panic internally.

Keep reading

First, I can’t believe you researched the trip in order to get as close to accurate on travel and time as possible. That’s some real dedication. Wow. Definitely not dumb!

Second, wow. You could cut this tension with a knife. Super sexy. Literally I was 👀 and 🤤 the whole time. Super hot! And I like how layered and interesting these characters are. They are fascinating and colorful. I love it!

Really excited about this story and ready to watch her realize he’s a good guy as they tear each other apart to build themselves back together again. 😊

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.” 

Keep reading

OooooooooooOooOooOo

This is so good! What a delightful enemies to lovers story! I don’t like how mean he is to her but I love that she copes with some confidence issues about her physical appearance and I look forward to seeing what that dynamic develops into over more chapters. Really enjoying this!

dextrocardia | 02

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 7.5k

warnings for this part: overall sexism, jk is mean but not much more than that.

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/? 

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© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

When you wake up, the sun is already shining its rays through the living room windows, and you hear something that sounds eerily like a shower running. Immediately, you fly into a sitting position, patting down the covers retrieved from “your” side of the bed in search of your phone. Fenrir, curled up over your legs, lifts his head to look at you.

“Fuck,” you whisper when you find the device. It’s nine a.m. You really couldn’t sleep last night, too on edge, and the last thing you remember, it was six-fifty.

Few things make you as uncomfortable as the thought of being asleep on the couch while Jeongguk’s awake and walking around in the house, and the sound of the shower stops while you’re still cringing at how you didn’t manage to wake up before him. You guess you’re lucky that he needs you for the mission, otherwise, he wouldn’t have passed up a chance of suffocating you with a pillow, surely. Additionally, you probably looked even more disgusting than usual.

Touching your mouth, you’re at least relieved that there’s no drool, and although your hair feels slightly messy under your fingers, it certainly doesn’t feel like a bird’s nest. You're busy patting it down further when something moves in your peripherals.

Of course, it’s Jeongguk entering the room. And of course, he’s shirtless, the only thing he’s wearing being a pair of gray sweatpants hanging incredibly low on his hips.

Let’s just say that if you weren’t entirely awake, you for sure are now.

It’s truly ridiculous, and you hate how the vision in front of you–Jeongguk holding a towel in one hand and drying his black strands with it, occasionally lowering it to dab away a stray drop that’s run down his chest–almost makes you forget how much you hate him.

You knew very well how fit he is, but to see the evidence? The way the muscles bulge under his skin? It turns your skull into an echo chamber. 

You especially despise how insanely attractive he is. Because sure, muscles are hot on their own, but it’s the way he’s so nicely proportioned, his wide, strong shoulders that evolve to impressive but not exaggerated biceps, and veiny, sturdy-looking arms. 

As he rubs his hair with the towel, you can even see parts of some kind of back muscle peek out on his side, a little lower than the bottom of his shoulder blades. And why does his waist look like that? Tiny, defined, and the contours of those muscles making up his abs and v-line move with his every breath. And you haven’t even mentioned the tattoos snaking up his arm and making him look all the more dangerous.

At least you find some sort of solace knowing that with a body fat percentage in the negatives like that, if the world were to end, Jeongguk probably wouldn’t survive anything colder than a mild winter.

“So you decided to finally wake up?” his voice snaps you out of it, and you meet his eyes, annoyance starting to trickle into yours. “Don’t you think you should get up earlier? What if someone pays us a visit to see you still asleep at this hour? Not very housewife of you.”

“Oh, shut up. As if you’ve accomplished anything at this hour except being an ass,” you roll your eyes, turning your head and trying not to let him see how your cheeks are just a bit warmer than before. “And put some clothes on, will you?”

“Well, I did find out that the guys spend Thursday nights at the Kims’, playing poker, and managed to get myself invited,” Jeongguk boasts. “And no, I don’t think I will. I realize you’ve most likely never seen this much of a man before, but if I were you, I’d take advantage of it. Who knows when someone will let you see anything like this again. Never, probably.”

He gestures toward his abs, and you have to admit that the single water drop running down the bulging muscles looks very delectable. Of course, you don’t let him know that, hurt and anger still boiling in your veins.

“Unfortunately, I have, but it doesn’t matter, I don’t wanna see you. At all, actually. And when would you have had the time to find anything out?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. And I found it out when I went on my morning run just now? And keep telling yourself that, honey. You may hate men, but you can’t deny the fact that you'd get under me in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

It’s the way he takes a step closer, arrogance reeking from him, and you despise how, for a split second, your gaze lingers on his thighs, visibly thick even through the fabric, and the evident bulge, not even visibly hard, front and center. You loathe how you just know that Jeongguk is most likely big and pretty, and how he definitely knows it too.

Seething–and with your heartbeat racing–you reach underneath the duvet to pluck the razor blade from its container strapped to your thigh. “Come closer and I promise you, I’ll cut your corneas out, and my face will be the last thing you see.”

“You’re fucking mental,” he shakes his head in disbelief, seemingly not very scared by your threat or the blade between your fingers. “What kinda name is ‘Fenrir’ anyway?”

You follow his line of sight, eyes landing on the new topic of conversation lying beside you. Carefully, you place the razor blade back.

“Norse mythology? The evil wolf that killed Odin?”

You take his raised eyebrows as a ‘no’. “The gods tried to bind him with magic chains, but Fenrir refused, only allowed it if his handler, the god Tyr, dared put his arm in Fenrir’s mouth.”

“So? Did he?”

“Yes, and Fenrir bit it off.”

You can’t really decipher the look on Jeongguk’s face except that he looks disinterested. He hums a ‘huh,’ and turns to leave the room. Weird.

Deciding to follow his lead even though your body is screaming at you to go back to sleep, you stand up and fold the duvet over your arm. Fenrir jumps down from the couch and follows you as you head up the stairs to return the covers to the empty side of the bed.

With the bed made, you shut your eyes briefly. You need to get started with the day and the mission, but that means going back downstairs and most likely having to spend time with Jeongguk close by while you’d much rather just stay in the bedroom alone.

Sucking it up, you change into another dress provided for you, a light pink summer dress with a pattern of the tiniest flowers on it. It’s pretty, but as you stand before the mirror, your eyes fill with worry. It’s not as tight as the blue one, but you’re still scared Jeongguk will comment on your body. You sigh and will yourself to not think about it and move on. It doesn’t matter.

When it comes to your hair, you would’ve just combed your fingers through it if you were home, maybe tied it away from your face somehow, but you wouldn’t have carefully combed through it like you do now. Neither would you have reached for a small bottle and pumped it twice into your hands, rubbing them together before applying the oil to the lengths of it.

You meet your own eyes in the bathroom mirror. Should you just apply some make-up? It’s no surprise that you look exhausted, and you don’t think you could hide it–along with all your imperfections–with make-up, but maybe just to smooth out your skin tone? Add some eyeliner and mascara to make your eyes look bigger? Contour your cheekbones a bit?

With a deep sigh, you retrieve your make-up bag, starting off by washing your face. Surely, they could’ve sent another female detective? If not Jihyo then Sana? Someone more appropriate and definitely more fitting than you. Because you’re… alright, but objectively and infuriatingly speaking, you don’t belong with Jeongguk. How no one has already called you out on your bluff is beyond you.

Looking somewhat presentable, you decide to take Fenrir out on his first walk of the day. It’s nice to have a backyard where he can relieve himself but he needs a lot more than just that.

The sun is already high in the sky when you close the front door behind you, leash in hand. Discreetly checking out your surroundings, you notice some of your neighbors doing various yard-work and gardening. 

Although these are people you’re supposed to spy on and put on your life’s act in front of, you honestly feel more relaxed outside than you do inside the house with Jeongguk. Fenrir stretches his body out before lowering his nose to sniff the lawn.

For a moment, as you walk through the neighborhood that’s actually pretty lovely, you almost forget about everything bothering you and the challenging mission you’re on.

The sound of someone calling your fake name snaps you out of your thoughts as you walk along the sidewalk. When you turn around, you see Hyeji waving excitedly, a leash of her own in her hand. Her dog is much smaller than Fenrir, and it’s white. A maltese perhaps?

It’s with a bit of smug pride that you return to the house one hour later, opening the door for yourself and Fenrir. 

You expected Jeongguk to be there, of course, and not to be at his very happiest because of, well, the situation, but when he comes to meet you at the door, he’s angrier than you could’ve guessed. 

“Where were you?” he crosses his arm over his chest–at least wearing a navy t-shirt now–his jaw tight.

“Walking Fenrir?” you state, stepping back and definitely not understanding what his problem is. You’ve been gone for a little more than an hour, not the entire day. 

The dog in question stands between the two of you, giving Jeongguk his stink eye. He doesn’t like men all that much, especially not if they seem threatening or unstable in any way, and Jeongguk does give off that kind of vibe.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Well, no? I didn’t think I had to ask for permission?” you blink in disgust. “You do know that this housewife, bread-winning husband thing is just an act, right? Besides, we just woke up, you’d think you’d understand that he needs to go outside.”

Jeongguk scoffs, “Just tell me when you leave and where.”

“Because?”

“Because,” he lowers his voice to a strained whisper, “we’re not exactly here on vacation, and I wanna know where you are.”

“But you didn’t tell me when you left for your run?”

“Because you were sleeping, and besides, I’m a man.”

“You’re a real dick, Jeongguk, you know that, right?”

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes, still standing with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“And I was gonna tell you about the lead I just found.”

This seemingly piques his interest, “What lead?”

For a split second, you consider not telling him as a punishment for being an ass, but honestly, you don’t want to anger him more than necessary. 

“Hyeji’s got a dog. I just met her, and we walked them together, so I’m thinking that’s my way in.”

Jeongguk hums, his professionalism taking the lead. “Yeah, that could work. Getting close to her will get you closer to Eunha too.”

“By the way, just so our stories match, should someone ask, I told her that I got Fenrir after a burglary before I met you.”

“What? Who did you tell? Hyeji? Just her?”

Confusion colors your expression, “Yeah, why?”

“Because I told Namjoon, the guy living in twelve, that I got Fenrir.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “Now why would you do that? And why wouldn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s such a masculine dog, it wouldn’t make sense if he was yours?”

“And why is that?”

“Look, stop being a feminazi for once. He doesn’t fit your character. Sure you’re not this sweet, pretty girl in real life, but that’s who you’re trying to be here, right? It makes more sense that he’s mine.”

You press your lips together. It shouldn’t hurt what he thinks of you. “Fine, just tell me if you do something like that again.”

“Fine.”

“And we really need to hurry up and get this over with so we can leave before everything starts to crumble around us.”

You stay inside for most of the day, reluctantly showing Jeongguk the commands you use when walking Fenrir, and even letting him play soccer with him in the backyard. It’s good for your image as a couple, you begrudgingly realize, and if you’re ever confronted about the contradicting backstory of Fenrir, you’ll just say that Jeongguk’s male ego is too fragile to admit that Fenrir’s originally yours. 

Stuck inside, you wonder what you’re going to do about the food for the remainder of your stay. Yesterday, you ate what Hyeji and Eunha brought you, even though you were hesitant in case it was poisoned. Since Jeongguk disregarded your warning and seemed fine, you followed his lead.

Although frustrating you beyond belief, you realize that you might as well bite the bullet and cook for the both of you. You don’t really want to provide any type of service for Jeongguk, but at the end of the day, it’s your job. Not to be his maid–cough–wife, but to be undercover and finish this mission.

You hear the sound of paws on the kitchen floor before you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“You know this is probably the best part so far, Mrs Jeon,” he taunts smugly. 

Turning away from the pans on the stove, you roll your eyes. At least he seems to be in a better mood. 

“First of all, I’m not a Mrs, and certainly not your Mrs. Secondly, unfortunately I have to eat, and I know you’d use the opportunity to poison me, so I might as well do it.”

“Might as well do what? Poison me?”

“No, idiot, cook. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to because you’re a grown man and surely able to feed yourself? But I don’t have very much reason to poison you. Yes, I hate you with everything in me, but how would I explain your absence? What would I do with your body?”

“Oh, there are probably plenty of things you’d do with my body.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jeongguk, I don’t want to be anywhere near you, dead or alive.”

“Hmm, let’s say that,” he shrugs.

He does end up eating the food you serve. In a different room from you, of course.

Your heart beats quickly, and your veins are filled with anxiety as you stare at your options of dresses. The fact that even though it was your turn to sleep in the bedroom, you didn’t manage to get a good night’s rest, doesn’t help.

The barbeque is today, in a few hours actually. You haven’t spoken to Jeongguk about what he’s wearing, and you really don’t want to, treasuring the fact that you haven’t seen much of him today so far.

It’s probably best to go for cute and proper, casual yet… elegant? Something not too revealing or form fitting around the chest as well. You sigh, not having put this much effort into your looks in a while. It’s not like you have anyone to impress at work, anyway.

In the end, you settle for a light yellow dress, reaching just below your knees and with a square neckline and short sleeves. It’s cute, you think, as you hold it in your hands. It won’t look its very best on you, but it will have to do. You just hope Jeongguk will keep his mouth shut because you really don’t need it today.

Ten minutes to six, you open the front door with a large oven dish containing food in your hands, Jeongguk right behind you with a case of beer in his hand. The few sentences you’ve exchanged so far were all about the plan, and it’s placed you into some kind of bubble. 

Until Jeongguk’s voice breaks you out of it. 

“Wait,” he says, hand still on the open door when you turn around.

He’s wearing a dark blue button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, paired with black chino shorts, and it’s incredible how good he looks. The outfit brings out the darkness of his hair and eyes and shows off his impressive physique. 

You never thought someone’s knees and calves could be attractive, but that’s obviously the case when it comes to Jeongguk because you’ve found yourself glancing even at those more than once. His whole body is just so… manly. Strong and athletic. And it makes you hurl on the inside how you’re unable to stop your body from appreciating his.

He’s quiet until you take a step closer, looking up at him questioningly. “What?”

“Let your hair down.”

Instinctively, your hand flies up to feel the loose ponytail you put your hair into an hour ago, but you don’t feel any particular bumps or loose strands that would make it look weird.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Glaring at him and his non-informative answer, you shake your head. “No.”

But he doesn’t give up. “Come here,” he instructs, and you’re well aware that people could be watching you, so reluctantly, you decide to listen.

“Just trust me for once,” he looks down at you when you come to stand in front of him. Your heart starts to race when he puts the beer down to lift his hands to your head, taking the hair tie out and letting your hair fall freely. You hate that you know how he smells, and you hate that you like it.

“I don’t trust you,” you state because it’s true. The only reason you’re somewhat going along with him is because you’re outside where your neighbors could see, and they can’t witness you arguing.

If your heart was beating quickly before, it’s nothing compared to what it does when Jeongguk chooses to run his hand through your hair to fix it to how he likes. Being so close to him makes you nervous of meeting his eyes, but when his focus lies elsewhere, you chance a glance at his face. 

He looks concentrated and stern, but you notice a mole under his bottom lip that makes his entire face almost… cute. It’s disgusting, really, how kissable his mouth appears.

“It makes you look younger, more care-free,” he explains absentmindedly. “Now, you need to act well, so if you can do me a favor and hide your man-hatred for just one night.”

You hadn’t felt how your eyes had softened just a tad, but you damn well feel the glare return stronger than before.

“Excuse me, I’m a great actress,” you bite in a strained whisper. “A great detective.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree on that one,” he smiles down at you, but it’s sarcastic and full of distaste.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, stepping away from him.

The walk to the Jungs’ is a short one–it really is just on the other side of the street–but you’re clutching the oven dish tightly in your hands the whole time. You begrudgingly realize that Jeongguk is an even better actor than you thought.  

As soon as you arrive at the Jungs’ backyard, all attention is on the two of you. The new couple. All in all, there are maybe ten to twelve people gathered, most watching curiously. Jeongguk is quick to hand the beer away and then take the oven dish from you to put it down on a table filled with food and ingredients. 

After that, he doesn’t leave your side for the ten minutes it takes for everyone to greet you, his arm resting comfortably around your waist. You try your best to ignore the nerves as you’re basically held against Jeongguk’s firm body, but you’re almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through your clothes.

Remembering what he said before, you throw caution to the wind and place your hand on his abdomen. Jeongguk doesn’t react and only continues to speak with your new “friends,” and you try to act as if having your hand on his firm stomach–moving slightly under your touch with his every movement and breath–is a common occurrence.

“Awh, that’s so romantic,” Wheein exclaims when you once again tell the story of how you and Jeongguk ‘met.’ She and her two friends watch you with heart eyes, but it’s definitely mostly because of your fake husband. If only they knew the evil that resides behind that ridiculous beauty.

“Yeah, and we just knew, right, honey? Right away?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him, and you’re almost floored by his warm smile. 

If you’ve learned anything so far, it’s that you’ve never seen him really smile before coming here, and it’s so convincing. You take notice of how dimples appear on his cheeks and how the corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks the very happiest. It’s almost jarring.

Fortunately, you can’t stay together the whole time, and Jeongguk decides to help out with the meat, seeing it as a chance to get closer to the guys. You, on the other hand, talk with some of the wives. And unsurprisingly, they just really wanna gush about your hunk of a husband.

You nod along to their fawning over Jeongguk until Hyeji calls for them from inside the house. She needs help with the food, and Wheein, cradling her practically newborn baby, holds him out for you.

“You wanna hold him a little bit for me? I’ll be right inside if you need anything, but he’ll most likely just sleep.”

It’s been a while since you held a baby, the latest being your cousin’s daughter, and she’s almost seven now, but you nod. It’ll be nice to not have to listen to Jeongguk’s new admirers for a while. Even nicer not to have to agree with them.

“Uh, sure.”

Gratefully, she hands him over and disappears into the house.

Turns out that Wheein wasn’t lying, and although Doyun isn’t asleep, he’s very calm. You spend another ten minutes easily watching the little baby in your arms, mesmerized by how incredibly adorable he is. He’s got a lot of hair for such a young baby, his entire head covered in black tresses.

“New here?”

When you look up, you’re met with an unfamiliar face. It’s a man, tall and with black hair. He must’ve just arrived.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, “moved in just a few days ago.”

The man smiles, and you’re hit with how pretty he is, but there’s a… feeling in your stomach.

“I’m Haneul”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, thankful for the little human occupying your arms and rendering you unavailable for a handshake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, nice to finally have some beautiful new women in town.”

“Oh, uh, I’m flattered, but unfortunately, I’m married,” you smile politely and shift Doyun around to give Haneul a glimpse of your fake ring.

He only glances at it briefly before hitting you with a lazy smirk. “‘Unfortunately,’ huh?”

Fuck. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I love my husband.”

“Is he here?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning your head to search for your tall, dark-haired husband. But you don’t see him at the grill, and your stomach drops. “Uh, he was there just a moment ago.”

“I see. Listen, I know a lot of husbands can be… lacking… in certain areas, and I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes off you, so I thought I should at least offer, you know?”

You hate men so fucking much, the audacity to come onto you in this manner after you already told him you were happily married? You’d also bet every penny you own that he wouldn’t have made the offer if he saw Jeongguk, because your fake husband–regardless if you’d ever admit it to anyone or even yourself–can be really imposing. He’s tall, strong, and has great posture. 

Honestly, they’re probably not even that different, Jeongguk and Haneul. At least they both seem confident and very entitled.

Your pulse races, but not in a good way, and you instinctively take a step back. You can feel the plastic case lying in your bra, but unless it is a real life or death situation, you can’t reach for it.

“Well, I’ll have to decline, and you should probably know that not a lot of husbands would appreciate your offer,” you warn politely, realizing that this is a man who won’t respect a woman’s opinion, but only her male owner’s.

You continue walking backward, smiling nicely just because you know it’s in your best interest not to cause a scene. He follows you, still with his lips pulled into that smirk. “Oh but they don’t need to know.”

Luckily, Jeongguk has returned from wherever he went, talking with the other men–Hoseok included–when you reach him.

He’s looking the other way, not having noticed you as you almost bump into him before hoisting Doyun up and holding him with one arm and carefully snaking your free one around Jeongguk’s.

“This is my husband,” you tell Haneul. At the same time, Jeongguk turns his head questioningly, looking between you and the man. 

Truthfully, it hurts you to have to come to him for any sort of help, but you guess you can at least play it off as your cover–Kim Yeji–needing him and not you. 

Certainly understanding why you’re suddenly seeking his protection, when you peer up at Jeongguk, you see his stern face observing the other man. 

Haneul only smiles apologetically and raises his hands, palms facing you.

You know that Jeongguk’s lack of pleasantries doesn’t mean that he’s angry at the guy–he’s probably only annoyed at you for interrupting his mingling–but Haneul accepts his defeat and leaves anyway. With him gone, you step away from Jeongguk, making sure it’s inconspicuous enough. 

In true Jeongguk-manner, he raises his eyebrows minimally at you, but all you do is give a little dismissive wave. 

For the few minutes it takes you to make sure Haneul isn’t lingering, you stay in Jeongguk’s proximity. Although keeping his confused aura whenever he peers over at you, there aren’t any opportunities for him to ask, and the other beer-drinking men keep him busy.

Soon enough, you find yourself at the border between the Jungs’ and the Choi’s yards, sitting down on the low stone wall dividing them. Doyun is wide awake but so well behaved and calm that he might as well have been knocked out, and you don’t even try to keep your eyes off him.

It’s not until someone sits down beside you that you look up. Surprisingly, you breathe out in relief when the brown eyes you meet belong to Jeongguk. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be relieved to see him?

“It’s going well, but unfortunately, I haven’t found out anything else of importance,” he updates you.

Realistically, you’ve always known you wouldn't be able to solve the case in an afternoon, but realizing you might be stuck here for longer than you expected makes your heart sink.

It’s quiet for a moment. Something about this cute little being on your lap lessens your anger, and you’re forced to realize that there’s just no point in overworking your heart at the moment. You can’t run, and there’s nowhere for you to hide.

“Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” you ask quietly, focusing on the little being that’s still pure.

As if he didn’t see the tiny baby before, Jeongguk peers over into your lap. “Hmm, he’s pretty cute.”

Hit by another realization, you turn your head to first look at Jeongguk and then Doyun again.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

You can practically feel Jeongguk’s confusion. “What?”

“I mean, he a hundred percent looks like he could be yours,” you smile a small smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you think it’s mostly genuine. If someone told you two weeks ago that you’d try to make light conversation, joke even, with Jeongguk, you would’ve laughed at the insanity.

But, of course, no good deed goes unpunished, and the peace is short-lived.

“So you think I’m cute?”

“That’s definitely not what I said,” you scoff, not even sparing Jeongguk a glance.

“But it is what you meant.”

You grow quiet, not feeling a fight but unable to lie at the moment. Jeongguk just needs to ruin everything not already terrible, doesn’t he?

“So you do?”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, holding the little boy’s hand, “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome.”

“No, but it’s always nice to hear,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “But honestly, you’re right, he does look a lot like me. I’m pretty sure I looked exactly like that when I was a baby.”

For some reason, you find the irritation slowly melting away once more. You’re just tired of always being angry with him, and since he’s not terribly mean at the moment, you guess you can allow yourself a little break. It’s not like he’s going to insult you and your family and then bash your head in with a rock in front of all the neighbors.

“It’s the nose, right? And the eyes—yours are also really round.”

“Yeah.”

You watch as Jeongguk offers his hand and as Doyun grips his finger. The vision of his large, tattooed hand being held by this tiny little one ignites just a little bit of warmth in your chest.

“That guy… what was up with him?”

You tear your eyes from the cuteness in front of you to peer at the side of Jeongguk’s face. He seems curious.

“I don’t know, he…”

But you just don’t have the energy to start anything. Telling Jeongguk about how men never respect you and how you hate the way they only stop when there’s another man involved will only make him roll his eyes and call you a man-hating lesbian. 

Besides, even if you think Haneul was interested in you in some way or another, you can’t tell Jeongguk that either. Although you’re well aware that men frequently only show “interest” to prove their power over you as a woman, Jeongguk will only retort that you’re being negative. He’d call you self-centered for thinking that Haneul wanted something because how would someone that pretty possibly be interested in you?

So you don’t continue your sentence. Neither does Jeongguk. 

A moment passes before he places his hands on his knees. “Well, I’m gonna head back to the guys and keep trying.”

“Yeah, me too. They’ll probably be back soon,” you nod toward the house. 

Jeongguk nods as well, “Good luck, then.”

“You too.”

The food is delicious, even if you do wait to take the first bite until everyone else has, just in case. You’re seated at the end of the table, Jeongguk on the short side with the corner between you.

It’s more difficult than you would like to admit to find a balance in eye contact, or just any contact, really. 

Ideally, you’d prefer to pretend he doesn’t exist, but he does, and you can’t seem too avoidant or there will be suspicions. 

On the other hand, if you look too much at him, he’ll for sure call you out on your obsessive behavior later, and you don't want to give him any more ammunition than he already has. He really doesn’t need to know that you don’t think you’ve ever seen a man as handsome as him before. 

Hyeji sits on your left side, turning to you often but otherwise talking animatedly to her husband Yoongi on her other side.  

Jeongguk speaks a bit with his neighbor too, but it’s not someone of importance–Hyeji’s visiting cousin. You don’t know her name but she doesn’t hide how interested she is in your “husband.” Which sort of makes you unreasonably irritated. Or maybe it isn’t so unreasonable since it makes you feel disrespected. For what she knows, Jeongguk is yours.

Luckily for you–for the mission–Jeongguk only interacts with her in a clearly platonic way, no too joyous smiles or any touches at all. Just small talk.

If it were up to you, you would’ve preferred going through the evening without as much as another word to your partner, leaving him to talk to whoever he wants, but there’s one thing that makes the hair on your arms stand up. One man.

Hoseok.

He sits on the other side of the long, rectangular table, approximately five seats away. He’s too far away for you or Jeongguk to really speak to, but that in itself doesn’t bother you too much because you don’t want to risk coming on too strong, anyway. 

What does bother you is the curious, even inspective way he turns his head to look at you. He’s a handsome man, with dark brown eyes and hair and sun-kissed skin, but he makes cold shivers run down your spine.

Without meeting his eyes, you try to appear confident and like your new friends are demanding all your attention, but whenever Hyeji turns away, you’re left to your husband.

In an attempt to at least look like you enjoy having him on this earth, you place your hand on top of his that’s resting on the table. Not executed in the smoothest way possible–a little bumpy–you still think it looks somewhat genuine.

At the action, Jeongguk turns his head to face you, but you’re already turning yours away, this time asking Hyeji where she grew up and ready to tell your own made-up childhood story. To your surprise, you feel Jeongguk turn his hand over and intertwine your fingers, and for quite some time, your hands remain like that.

“Hi! Good to get away from the others for a bit, right?”

You match Hyeji’s grin as you come to stand before her, Fenrir and her dog, Bubbles, sniffing each other. 

“Yeah, I just zone out when they start talking about sports,” you chuckle, referring to the few couples still at the Jungs’, and particularly the men. “They’re so passionate about it, too?”

“Oh, definitely! Does Jaehyun invite his friends to watch important games? Or just… all the games?” she laughs, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her in the chilly night air and taking the lead on the sidewalk.

You call for Fenrir’s attention and follow Hyeji. “Yeah, not all the games, and they’re not always at ours, but yeah, they can’t seem to watch anything alone, can they?”

“No, meanwhile I just watch my series with Bubbles, but he’s so much better company than Yoongi, honestly.”

“I can relate to that! How old is Bubbles, by the way?”

“He’ll be seven in December, so almost an old man,” she smiles fondly down at the dog who stops to pee on a neighbor’s fence. “Oops,” Hyeji smiles childishly. “What about Fenrir? How old is he?”

“He’s five.”

“He’s so big,” she marvels over the dog that dwarfs her maltese.

“Yeah. He’s made me feel a lot safer since… what happened.”

“I get that. I’m sorry that happened to you, it must’ve been awful. But at least you’ve got Fenrir and your husband too now to protect you.”

You almost laugh at the irony. If someone broke into your fake home, Jeongguk would probably serve you up on a silver platter for the burglars to take you. He’d interrupt them, only to happily offer them a knife and remind them to really stab you through the heart before they leave.

“Jaehyun is… strong and all, but I honestly think he’s a little too relaxed,” you complain, appearing worried. “Speaking of security, we’re looking to install a home alarm, but we’re not sure which one to get. Do you have any recommendations? Since you also have a dog?”

“Oh, of course! I can’t remember the name of our model, but I remember that one of our criterias was that there are no motion sensors because even though Bubbles mostly sleeps while we’re gone, we really don’t want him to trigger the alarm.”

“Exactly. So we’re looking at an alarm with just door and window sensors?”

“Yeah. I’ll look up the name of ours but I’d honestly recommend getting another brand because we have so little time to enter the code from the moment we unlock the door that it gives me half a heart attack every time.”

You chuckle at the dramatic way she clutches at her heart. “Oh, yeah, that would stress me out too.”

She tilts her head curiously. “How is Fenrir inside when he’s alone? Is he destructive?”

“No, he’s pretty good. He can bark a bit if he hears something outside and he can paw at the door sometimes, but he leaves furniture and such alone.”

“That’s good. He’s not on the windows, then?”

You pretend to think about it, already knowing that Fenrir’s very well behaved and absolutely never up to anything bad whenever he’s alone. “Hm, not that I know of? Maybe if he sees something, I’m sure he could bark and press his nose against it.”

“I’m just asking because I know you can choose an alarm that has window sensors but disable it for specific windows. Did you know that Eunha’s got a cat? He sits at this one window day in and day out, looking at the birds, but if he sees a squirrel in the tree outside, he goes crazy and basically tries to claw his way through the window.”

“Oh, really?” you exclaim curiously, grinning victoriously on the inside.

“Yeah, and their alarm isn’t connected to any kind of first responders or security company just because he sometimes decides to smash his head into any of the other windows too.”

Hyeji laughs and you chuckle along as well, although, you can definitely think of a few more reasons that the Jungs wouldn’t want any sort of authorities visiting their house.

“It just sends alerts and activates their inside cameras. Which is good if there’s a risk that your pet triggered it.”

“Oh, so you can check for yourself? That sounds smart. I’ll look into it with Jaehyun. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

To say that you get back to the Jungs’ with a little extra determination in your step is an understatement.

Jeongguk is still sitting outside at the table with the guys, their passionate voices talking about various sports and athletes sound through the summer night air. The sun set quite some time ago, the tables now only lit by candles and strings of fairy lights hanging from the few trees.

Your discovery lies heavy on your tongue, and you want to tell Jeongguk as soon as possible. He doesn’t notice you and Hyeji walking back to the table until you’re standing at his side. They’re all looking so relaxed, leaning back in the rattan armchairs.

“Hey, uh, honey? I think I’m gonna head back home. It’s getting late, and I’m getting tired.”

He looks up at you and then to Fenrir who sits behind you patiently.

“Oh, already?”

You can tell by his eyes that he wants to stay to work on his own connections, but you feel like the best tactic is to take it slowly and not push too much. Additionally, you’ve already found a huge lead.

The voices are still loud as Jeongguk’s new friends discuss a particular game from five years ago, a few of the remaining wives having gathered at the other end of the table and talking animatedly to each other about something. Hyeji joins them with Bubbles on her lap.

So you make sure no one’s watching too closely, and you lean down.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper in Jeongguk’s ear.

He pulls back to look at you questioningly, still reluctant to leave so you gesture with your hand for him to lean back in.

“I think I found our way in.”

But the moment after you say it, your gaze travels carefully over the other neighbors and lands on the eyes of Hoseok himself. He’s watching you with something unclear in his gaze.

In a slight panic, you recall the chief’s words, and with no time to second guess yourself, you slide your hand down Jeongguk’s chest, mindlessly toying with the first thing you feel, which happens to be the third button. It’s the first one that’s actually buttoned, and perhaps unfortunately, it accidentally opens under your touch.

“He’s watching,” you explain quietly but rushed into Jeongguk’s ear, and to make sure your act is believable, you press your lips against his cheek and with your other hand coming up on the other side of his face from behind, you tangle your fingers carefully in his hair.

Truthfully, you don’t think Jeongguk minds, otherwise you would’ve definitely been more careful. Well, he’ll probably spend an hour in the shower when you get back, scrubbing his body free from your touch, but he allows it, even encourages it since it’s vital to the mission. 

Along with what the chief said about needing to look in love, Jeongguk’s own words from the first day ring in your head.

“Touch me like you love me” 

Or something like that. So you definitely have his permission.

What shouldn’t surprise you but still does is when he raises his hand to cover yours on his chest, sliding it to the side, underneath the fabric of his half-open shirt.

You let out a shaky breath against the side of his face, hoping, most likely in vain, that he doesn’t notice. His hand is warm over yours, and his chest under your palm is too. The heartbeat you feel is just your own, pulsing through your entire body and to your hand, not his, even though your hand is basically right above it. You honestly aren’t sure he has a heart.

Although knowing you’d see more of him than you ideally wanted, you wouldn’t have guessed that you’d essentially be feeling him up in public like this, but honestly, his body isn’t the problem. 

Somewhere in your mind, you’re already dreading having to sooner or later look him in the eye.

Surprising you even more, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, somehow tugging you, gasping, onto his lap.

Ending up sitting sideways over his thighs, you decide to make the best out of the situation and look relaxed, leaning back against him. You don’t check if Hoseok’s still watching, but you’d rather play it safe than make him suspect something.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look today? My little wife.”

You try your best to conceal your surprise, but you still feel your eyes widen a tad at Jeongguk’s quiet words. And of course, your cheeks start to heat up even more than before. 

Yeah, you guess that Hoseok must still be watching.

Looking at Jeongguk, meeting his eyes, you almost lose your breath and the leash still grasped in your hand. You get why the chief sent him. 

Jeongguk is probably the officer that hates you the most out of everyone, yet he has no problem gazing up at you like you're his entire world. It’s not that much of a surprise that he’s a god damn talented actor because he’s just good at everything.

You’re in no position to do anything but play along, and you don’t really want to admit it to yourself, but after today and at that specific moment, it doesn’t seem that terrible. 

At first, you’re extremely aware of every little area where you and him are touching, even through your clothes. You’re aware of your breathing and his–both slow and calm, but his feeling just a tad bit more naturally unaffected than yours.

But his embrace is soft yet sturdy, and he has the audacity to slowly and softly rub your back and sometimes your shoulder. Ten minutes pass just like that.

And you’re tired. So incredibly exhausted. You’ve barely slept at all, and strangely enough, you don’t feel threatened at the moment despite being surrounded by dangerous people.

So you drift off. Right then and there, in the arms of the man that despises your very being–your head resting right by his neck–and in the backyard of one of the country’s most accomplished robbers. One of them will for sure be the death of you, and you don't think it will be Hoseok.

<previous | next>

<3<3<3

Dang! I love this story! I don’t want to love JK but I totally do and after the last couple lives in bed I’m totally imagining that for OC. Sheesh. Such a great story so far and looking forward to getting to know Hobi’s character. The scene with the handcuffs was hilarious and a fun turn. Thank you for sharing this story with us!

dextrocardia | 03

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 5k

warnings for this part: if it wasn't clear before, i don't know how law enforcement really works so i made my own 🤪 there aren't anything serious in this part, just a bit of sexism. well, jk is still very hot 😅

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 3/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

For the next three days, you’re entirely focused on the Jung house. The goal of surveying it can be divided into two; find out when it’s empty and which window isn’t hooked up to a sensor.

Thanks to Jeongguk, you know that the men all get together at Kim Namjoon’s house on Thursdays to play poker, but what complicates it is that Jeongguk is supposed to attend it as well. Additionally, you don’t know what Eunha’s doing at that time, either.

The majority of those three days, you spend on the top floor with your binoculars. It’s more what you’re used to anyway; observing from a distance. 

Sure, occasionally, it gets boring, but the nice thing about investigating a feline and its window preferences is that it doesn’t matter if you take a five minute break or ten. 

Additionally, you don’t have to spend a lot of time with Jeongguk, who’s out befriending the male neighbors. If anyone asks about you, he’s supposed to tell them you’re feeling a bit under the weather. 

Besides, the atmosphere between the two of you since you returned from the barbeque has been… odd.

After you got back to your house, you stiffly explained what you’d found out, and you planned loosely for the coming days, but neither mentioned what happened at the Jung’s. You touched him, and then you slept in his arms. You cringe just thinking about it. Perhaps it plays a part in why you’re even less enthusiastic about seeing him. ‘Perhaps’ meaning ‘definitely.’ Luckily Jeongguk didn’t bring it up to tease you about it, he spoke almost neutrally to you about the plan but in between sentences, he looked to be trapped inside his mind.

At five p.m on that third day, your conclusion so far is that although the white, incredibly fluffy cat sometimes is seen through any of the windows facing the street, its preferred squirrel-watching window is most likely facing the backyard. 

The result is both good and bad. Bad because you’ll have to find a way to observe the back of the Jung house, good because entering through a window on the front would be so much riskier.

To your disappointment–even if you knew three days is a very short time–the only sort of pattern regarding Eunha’s late night activities that you’ve managed to discern is that she basically just stays home.

Speaking of Eunha, at five-thirty p.m., you watch through the window as she walks up the short driveway to your door with Hyeji in tow. Assuming Jeongguk is still with Fenrir in the backyard, you rush downstairs to greet your new neighbors.

“Hey, heard you weren’t feeling well, are you better?” Eunha asks the moment you slide the door open.

“Hello, uh, yes. I thought I was coming down with a cold but it stopped at a sore throat and a bit of a cough.”

“That’s good to hear,” Hyeji pipes up from behind her friend, “Eunha baked you cookies!”

Smiling shyly, Eunha nods and hands you the plastic container she’d been holding. 

“Oh, there’s no need–thank you,” you bow politely, realizing that they won’t take no for an answer. The container is white with a red lid, impossible to see through.

“It’s no problem, I was baking anyways, but I thought of you.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” you smile, unable to keep your heart from warming. Eunha and Hyeji are about your own age, but you feel undeniably like a teenager getting fed at grandma’s.

“Like I said; no problem,” she dismisses with a casual wave of her hand. “By the way, how are you settling in?”

“Well,” you start, placing a hand on the door frame and glancing back over your shoulder as if you’re not a hundred percent aware of the state of your barren house. “We’ve gotten the bedroom mostly in order and the kitchen. There was a problem with the moving company we hired, so the last trucks won’t be here for another day or two. But we can eat and sleep, and we have our couch and TV, so we’ll survive!”

Hyeji rises to her toes in a subtle attempt at getting a look inside. “I don’t wanna come off as prying, but… do you think we could get a look inside? The previous owners were such hermits, but we saw them doing some sort of remodeling inside, and, well, we’re curious as to what they had changed.”

“Oh, uh… sure,” you smile nervously, realizing that declining would seem suspicious. 

Dashing through all the rooms in your head, you don’t think there’s anything incriminating left visible. You’ve made it a habit to not leave your binoculars and notepad out when taking a break, usually dropping them in the nightstand drawer if in the bedroom. The listening devices you hope to somehow place inside the Jungs’ house someday are still packed away in Jeongguk’s suitcase under the bed.

The women step inside, and you follow them as they look around, still holding the cookies to your chest.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Eunha looks back at you.

“Who?” you respond absentmindedly before it hits you.

“Jaehyun? Your husband?”

“Oh! I didn’t hear you,” you lie, hoping it sounds believable and not like you don’t know your husband’s name. “He’s probably playing some ball with Fenrir out back.”

The involuntary tour begins with the living room, and you let them feel the fabric of your couch, lying when Hyeji asks what brand and material it is–you wouldn’t know, you didn’t buy it.

“What kind of curtains are you planning?”

Looking up at the cold walls around your gray couch, you improvise, not knowing if the furniture truck even contains curtains, much less what color.

“Well, we have a couple different ones; I like to rotate them, but… light ones, probably? White or some kind of cold beige?”

As if picturing the drapes, Hyeji and Eunha both listen, humming quietly in agreement.

“Yeah, that would fit nicely with the table too. Clean, I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you mind if we look upstairs?”

Although still nervous, you shake your head, knowing there’s nothing weird for them to stumble upon. “No, no, go ahead.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s okay, I definitely understand being curious,” you smile sweetly.

One after the other, you ascend the stairs, you at the very end. During the way up, you hope that they won’t ask about the lone chair at the window in the empty bedroom. It's what you’ve been using whenever Jeongguk’s been occupying the furnished bedroom but you’ve still had to observe the house across the street. 

Luckily, it’s possible to explain, and you can just claim to have used it to check the ceiling light socket or something.

The furnished bedroom is the one closest to the stairs and therefore the room Eunha enters first.

“Oh, this is nice!” she exclaims, twirling slowly to get a feel of the whole room. “Does Fenrir not sleep with you? I’m just wondering how you manage to keep it clean with a dog that size? Although I love light colors like these, I’d never dare have them with an animal in the house.”

You laugh along with her, “No, he does sometimes, but usually, he sleeps in his own bed–which hasn’t arrived yet–but at the moment, he prefers the couch, to be honest. I think it gets too hot for him to sleep with us.”

“Oh, I bet,” you hear Hyeji snicker from behind. It gathers Eunha’s attention.

Confused, you turn around, the color leaving your face–or more like rushing to it–when Hyeji lifts the metal handcuffs off the dresser with her finger. You hadn’t seen them beside the black shirt of Jeongguk’s, lying thrown onto the surface.

“Oh, uh..” you stammer, watching her inspect them.

“These look so real,” she eyes them wide-eyed before her eyes travel to something else on the dresser, “And, uh, this…?”

To your horror, it’s not only his handcuffs that Jeongguk has left out in plain sight.

Eunha blinks with her eyebrows raised slightly, “Is that a… baton?”

“Oh, those….” you step forward, your cheeks warmer than in a long, long time, and you take them gently from the hands of a grinning Hyeji, “belong in the special drawer. I, uh, got them for him a while back. You know, a man in uniform…”

It fucking pains you, having to embarrass yourself due to Jeongguk’s fucking carelessness. He might as well have left his gun and police badge out for anyone to see.

“You know, I can’t even blame you, honestly,” Hyeji smirks as you open the dresser with blazingly warm cheeks to shove the baton into it. “I didn’t take you as the role-playing type, but with a man like that?”

“Yoongi’s crazy hot too, though,” Eunha points out, and you definitely have to agree. Although not as cold and imposing appearance wise as Jeongguk, Yoongi is a hell of a looker. Possibly also part of a criminal community, but you don’t have any concrete evidence for that yet.

“Yeah, of course, but he’s not into that kind of stuff. But I bet Hobi is,” Hyeji’s smirk grows wider, and she wiggles her eyebrows. 

To be fair, Hoseok, Hobi, is also incredibly hot, and he certainly doesn’t lack authority. Honestly, you could throw him into the station and he’d fit right in, who knows what some of those police officers have done behind closed doors?

Eunha blushes. “I know Hobi looks… dominating, but we don’t really engage in those… dynamics. I respect people who do,” she chuckles and nods toward you (please, God, if there’s ever a fitting time for a freak accident to annihilate you), “but that’s just not us.”

Me neither, you want to shout, but painfully enough, you can’t. Instead, you’re searching your brain for a way to change the topic in a natural way.

“I know that J–Jaehyun’s hot and that he can look stern and intimidating, and although I enjoy… that side of him, as you know now,” you chuckle while breathing through the pain, “he’s… so much more than that. He’s sweet and kind, and he’s my best friend in the whole world. So definitely more than gorgeous, and I’m so lucky to have him.”

Hyeji lets out an aw, and you smile shyly in turn. Jeongguk fucking owes you one. Big time. 

“Oh, hello,” Eunha suddenly greets sweetly, and you hear the sound of paws before turning around and seeing Fenrir trot into the room. 

Well, that means Jeongguk is probably also back inside, and that’s definitely your cue to break it up.

After another five minutes and a ton of comments and decor suggestions, your new friends have looked through the entire house, leaving only when you carefully work ‘still feeling tired’ into the conversation. They don’t appear too disappointed as they step outside, perhaps it has something to do with a shirtless Jeongguk giving them a wave as he passes them on his way to the kitchen.

Your blood is already boiling when you close the front door behind them. In vain, you spend twenty seconds trying to collect yourself, but you’re so incredibly angry. The whole point of having a house, shipping furniture to it, and pretending to live a happy little life in it is to be prepared to let people near you. 

Yet, Jeongguk almost blew your entire cover and put you in incredible danger had you not saved the both of you. You’re just lucky they bought it.

With furious steps, you enter the kitchen, only to find Jeongguk leaning back against the counter with a glass of water in his hand. You get that it’s warm and that he was playing with Fenrir, but why does he always need to be shirtless?!

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hiss at him, still keeping a respectable distance. “Care to explain why you’d risk the entire operation–our fucking lives–with these?!”

Reaching into your pocket, you grab the handcuffs, throwing them at Jeongguk’s chest. Of course, he catches them. 

“And your fucking baton?! Which I have no idea why you’d need now, and even less so why you’d leave out?!”

“I guess I forgot,” he shrugs, playing with the silvery cuffs in his veiny hand, “Sorry.”

“Are you for real?!” you question, his apology not exactly having simmered your anger. “Do you realize what could’ve happened if they suspected we’re fucking cops?!”

“Well, luckily, you managed to convince them that you want to be. Not that it took much.”

You glare at him, his words not clicking in your head but his face and the way he starts to smile arrogantly keeping your anger alive. You understand that he heard you, but what else?

“Fucking cops. Cops that are fucking, I mean. Want me to tie you up?” he places the glass down on the counter to take a step closer, eyeing you with disgusting confidence. “Cuff you to the bed?”

In response, you take a step back, feeling your stomach churn. The hottest layer of fury dwindles, and you’re left nearly speechless. “Besides stupid, you’re… you’re… vile,” you manage to say, “Try to touch me, and I’ll cut your hands off. And put a fucking shirt on.”

The rest of the afternoon and evening pass without much action. You don’t eat any of the cookies Eunha baked, but you do watch Jeongguk gobble them down without a single worry. 

Funnily enough, you almost think he feels… bad… for fucking up earlier. You would’ve never guessed he had any sort of conscience, but you don’t know how else to explain his actions.

Why would he offer to walk Fenrir when he paws at the door after you’ve just let out a sigh–much less subtle than you thought–so tired you’re struggling to keep your eyes open?

Although still incredibly suspicious, you do let him, and you stand at the window of the bedroom as they leave for, according to Jeongguk, an hour’s walk.

You don’t like the bedroom, you don’t like the couch. Hell, you don’t feel at ease anywhere in the house, but as you’re left with it to yourself, and it’s your turn to spend the night in the living room, you take the opportunity.

Locking the door to the bedroom, you set an alarm for fifty minutes on your phone.

You make a phone call later that day, and the morning after, Jeongguk receives another, informing you that the moving truck is set to arrive at one p.m.. 

You’re not too excited–not at all, really–but it does bring some satisfaction to finally see Jeongguk struggle.

He skips his morning run, stating that he’ll take a rest day with only the exercise that hauling heavy stuff around provides. When the truck pulls up, he’s however still wearing his normal workout outfit, meaning–shirtless. 

It does draw a roll of the eyes from you, but you feel like you can’t blame him too much; the sun really seems extra harsh today. When it comes to your own outfit, you’ve opted for a shorter light pink and flowy dress, held up by spaghetti straps. You try not to think of Jeongguk's opinion.

You stand back when the two men introduce themselves, letting Jeongguk do most of the talking, but when they open up the back of the truck, you’re happy to grab some brown boxes to carry inside.

Honestly, you have absolutely no idea what’s inside all these boxes, but at least they’re labeled by room to make it easier. The plan is to just carry them inside and procrastinate unpacking them for as long as possible, ideally until you’re done and there’s no longer a need to pretend anyway.

And although there are countless disadvantages to being a woman in this world, there is also at least one perk. 

It turns out that both moving guys, Donggeun and Gaeul, are surprisingly… chivalrous. They’re also just regular movers and definitely not law enforcement. Gaeul works primarily from within the big truck, handing the boxes out, and you, Jeongguk, and Donggeun accept them to move them inside. 

Well, as soon as Gaeul lifts a particularly heavy one–or just not one weighing basically nothing–he immediately counts you out. 

If he’s there and ready, Donggeun is Gaeul’s first choice, and he only hands it to Jeongguk if his colleague is busy. More than once, you reach for a brown box, only to have it gently snatched from your hands with an ‘I’ll take that for you, miss.’ 

You don’t like being made to feel weak, especially not by men, but to be honest, today you don’t mind taking the backseat. 

Still, you walk to and fro the house at least ten times, and you start to wonder if the chief and whoever coordinated the props miscalculated something because this many boxes truly is overkill. There are only so many things you do need for your short stay and only so many more to make your pretend life believable.

Despite making more runs than you, carrying a whole lot heavier things and sometimes two boxes at once, Jeongguk is clearly irritated whenever he misses his chance of taking a box from you to carry himself. Even more so when Donggeun beats him to it. Like you said, you don’t mind. Additionally, you don’t feel the threatening aura from either of the movers despite them being men, and you’re pretty sure both of them wear wedding bands. All men are shit, you know that, but evidently, some less so than others.

After having given you an appropriate-deemed box, only for Donggeun to return from the house and happily take it from you, Jeongguk calls for a break. By now, even if you hate the mere thought of it, you and your fake husband have gotten quite good at looks. Subtle glances, pointing gazes–it’s clear that your communication has improved, and you don’t miss his hint.

“Something to drink? That’s not water, I mean?” you clap your hands together smilingly as Gaeul runs his forearm across his sweaty forehead and Donggeun sighs tiredly. They both nod appreciatively, and so you turn, entering the house.

Rummaging through the cupboards, you find a big glass jug that you fill with raspberry lemonade. Jeongguk would’ve probably appreciated a cold beer, but honestly, Gaeul and Donggeun can’t drink on the job, and neither should he.

“Here you go,” you set the jug down on the little plastic garden table placed just inside the fence that’s already holding glasses and the guys’ water bottles. “I added some salt and a bit more sugar to restore fluid balance now that it’s so hot.”

You’re straightening up, wiping your hands on your dress when you feel a hand on your waist. There’s barely any time for you to react before you’re gently tugged into someone’s side and there’s a casual yet sweet kiss placed on your temple.

“Thank you, love.”

You’d be lying if you said his actions and low voice didn’t affect you, and it’s with warming cheeks and surprised eyes you glance up at him. But he’s already directed his focus elsewhere–onto the red liquid that admittedly looks very tempting–and as he’s moving away, his hand slips from your waist.

You breathe out. Man, you gotta get it together.

After twenty minutes and multiple denied offerings of cookies from your side, you get back at it. Well, Jeongguk and the others do; he tells you that he’s got it from here and that there aren’t that many boxes left. 

So you carry the empty jug and glasses back in, pretending that you don’t hear one of the moving guys–you’re not sure who–call you a sweetheart.

The air conditioner does you good, and you take your time washing the glassware, leaving it to air dry before you find yourself standing in the middle of the living room, gazing out over the sea of brown cardboard boxes. You really hope you and Jeongguk can make enough progress in the next few days to finally go home and continue the investigation from there.

Still in your thoughts, you head toward the door to go back outside. As soon as you open it, you see Jeongguk approaching, his head turned back over his shoulder and seemingly also deep in thought as he watches the guys.

He only notices you when you’re a few steps out of the door, his gaze falling onto you, and there’s something in it that you can’t quite decipher. It’s not hate or disgust; those he appears to keep contained for the moment. 

It happens very quickly after that. Without visible hesitation, he marches up to you, his hand already reaching for your face. Naturally, your heart bursts into an attack of some sort, and you’re just lucky he can’t feel your pulse and know how he makes your body react.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and it’s quiet enough that no one else hears, but clear enough that you do. 

Your eyes widen. “I, uh, o–okay.”

He’s doing it for the mission, you’re aware. You just haven’t had the time to figure out exactly why. And at first, you have no intention of figuring his exact reasoning out because Jeon Jeongguk is already kissing you. 

His hand that reached for your cheek travels to the back of your neck, and he uses it to pull you closer, his other hand finding your waist. 

And you… you can’t even say that you hate it. Well, you hate how gentle he is, even when eager, and you hate how he smells nice despite being a bit sweaty. You loathe how soft his lips feel against yours as they kiss you sweetly, and how he tastes of raspberries. Additionally, it’s disgusting how firm and warm his skin is when you run your hands up his back.

Most of all, you hate how someone like him can dent all your walls and how a part of you actually wouldn’t mind kissing him for longer.

But eventually, the kiss does end.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly, embarrassingly out of breath.

“Kissing my wife.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity, but also… you can’t be mad because he did ask and it was… probably the best kiss you’ve ever had.

It hits you then. Why he did it.

“...You’re jealous.”

Unsurprisingly, Jeongguk scoffs, “No, I’m not. I just think… you know, you don’t talk about someone else’s wife and be all nice.”

The last part he mutters as he turns his head away, and you can’t resist.

“Oh, you so are,” you chuckle, watching him. “So you’re the jealous type of husband. Who would’ve thought?”

Actually, it’s not that much of a surprise. Jeongguk is incredibly competitive, that you do know, and those features tend to correlate. He doesn’t like you in any way, but he still can’t handle other men giving you attention?

He rolls his eyes, “No, I'm just irritated that they don't think I can take care of you on my own.”

Now that wasn’t what you expected.

“I don’t need to be taken care of, though. I can carry some boxes. I may be a woman, but I’m not that weak.”

“I know. Even though you are pretty weak,” he smirks, but it’s less arrogant than usual when it’s only the two of you. “The thing is that you don’t need to.”

You curse your heart for… doing something, and to hide your… fluster…? you sidestep him. “I’m glad we’re not actually married,” you whisper, “You’d be a terrible husband.”

From behind you, you hear how he follows, “You’d be an even worse wife, though. Can’t cook for shit.”

But his insult doesn’t carry that usual bite, and you don’t feel that usual surge of anger. Maybe it has to do with the fact that you’re not alone–at least two witnesses not too far away–or that you still feel him on your lips.

The next day, you’re already up and about when Jeongguk goes for his morning jog, and you see him exit the front door with Fenrir and a shirt on. The former with your (reluctant) permission and the latter by what can only be a belated Christmas miracle. 

Jeongguk seems to have taken a liking to Fenrir, which isn’t that weird considering the dog is an absolute angel, what’s weirder is that Fenrir likes him back. 

Honestly, you don’t really know what you think of it, but a part of you definitely dislikes it. Fenrir’s supposed to have your back, but instead, he’s frolicking with the enemy while you’re working your ass off.

You knew that signing up to live undercover would entail doing a lot of things not directly tied to the operation, but just how much came as a bit of a surprise. 

For instance, you hadn’t planned to be halfway through a recipe, flour on your cheek and a bit of egg white on the floor, but here you are.

Baking has never really been your thing, but you begrudgingly realize that you need to repay Eunha for her cookies and also simply for their generous welcoming. Okay, you probably don’t need to, but being perceived as friendly definitely won’t hurt you on your quest. 

Besides, doing something might help you not think about the day before and how your fake husband’s body feels pressed against yours and under your hands. Or his lips. Your heart almost giving up. His scent–

So, after crawling way too far down Google in search of something you could make yourself and pass off as a family recipe without being called out by an avid baker, you’re taking the tray with cookies out of the oven.

Inspecting the round little things, you tilt your head. At least they look… homemade.

Fifteen minutes later, while you’re in the middle of cleaning up the mess you accidentally made, a sight you’ve unfortunately grown used to enters kitchen.

Jeongguk. Half naked and sweaty. And out of breath. You pretend not to notice him although definitely always keeping an eye on him. Of course, the shirt was just too good to be true as it appears to have vanished into thin air. If you had less self control, your eyes would be glued to the way his abs move with every labored breath.

“Oh, you’re… baking?”

“Yeah,” you pretend to look for something in a drawer, “thought it would show some friendliness and give us a reason to go over.”

“Good idea, but…”

You close the drawer and look up. “What?”

“Can you even bake?”

He moves before you can react, approaching the counter top, and it’s at the last second you manage to open your mouth.

“No, don’t, those are—”

“—Poisoned?”

“—Hot.”

He meets your eyes, and you’re faced with a horrid realization that changes absolutely everything. 

Jeongguk lowers his hand, head turning and eyes spotting the cookies already gathered off a tray and onto a plate. “I guess I’ll have to volunteer as the guinea pig.”

You don’t stop him from biting into one of the cooled-off cookies, and when he tells you–after licking crumbs off his lips–that they’re not terrible, you’re not sure how to feel other than scared.

That feeling doesn’t go away, not even as you watch Jeongguk curiously sift through some of the brown boxes he didn't have time to yesterday, grinning in excitement as he finds some sort of “authentic samurai sword” to hang above the tv.

If baking and your realization had you scared, it’s nothing compared to delivering the cookies. 

A few hours have passed since you took your creations out of the oven when you’re knocking on Eunha’s door. Behind you, Jeongguk stands, looking around absentmindedly with Fenrir’s leash in his hands. You’re stopping by to return the container with your own cookies inside as thanks before going on a walk together; that’s the story.

However, it’s not only Eunha that comes to the door, but also Hoseok. Instantly, your blood freezes. You haven’t spoken much to him, much less than you’re sure Jeongguk has, but there’s just something about the man.

You’ve seen him talk and laugh with his friends and wife, but in between those moments, he seems so… cold. Or… scheming.

“Hi!” you greet, happy to the best of your abilities, “we came to return the favor. And the container.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Eunha assures but still takes the box from you, opening it to inspect the contents. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you, it was really sweet to bake for me. Actually, you’ve all been very sweet to us, so thank you.”

“No need to thank us,” Hoseok speaks from behind his wife, and your heart skips a beat. “Although if your go-to ‘thank you’ is cookies then I don’t mind.”

You laugh and so do Eunha. Even Jeongguk lets out a chuckle from behind you.

“So how are you? Not fighting, I hope?” she grins.

You blink at Eunha’s question. Why would she think you were fighting? What could she have seen? Or heard?

“I’m just wondering since it looks like someone’s sleeping on the couch.”

You gulp. Fuck.

<previous | next>

so what are your thoughts?? what do we think of jk?? 😅😀

Oof! It’s heating up! Love it! Can’t wait to read more!

dextrocardia | 04

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 5.3k

warnings for this part: none really, except sexism and insults and jk is HOT but confusing (also,,,, k i s s i n g)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 4/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

Behind you, Jeongguk must be looking even more confused than you. 

“It’s hard not to notice the tv when you don’t have any curtains and really big windows,” Eunha elaborates with a chuckle.

Shit. Your heart starts to race, and you can feel your hands go clammy. That’s your fault. You leave the ginormous tv on during the night whenever it’s your turn on the couch. 

“He snores,” you blurt. “And I don’t wanna disturb him so I sometimes go downstairs because I know he needs his sleep.”

You know you’ll be skinned alive the moment you’re alone together, but you needed a believable explanation and you needed one fast. Technically, you could’ve pinned the snoring on yourself, but… no, Jeongguk and his friends have made your life a living hell, and you’re not about to forget that just because he’s got a tender touch and kissable lips.

“Oh?” It’s Hoseok who speaks, “That must be rough.”

“Yeah, I’ve told her to wake me, but she insists on going down, herself,” Jeongguk answers, his voice gentle and warm, and even if you can’t technically hear it, you do hear it; the irritation.

You zone out after that, relieved that your quick thinking worked but still frozen in some kind of fear, the others’ voices becoming muffled as they move on to small talk. You nod here and smile there, but soon enough, you and Jeongguk turn to leave.

“Why the fuck did you have to say that?” he seethes the moment you’re out of sight, turning to walk down the neighborhood’s sidewalk. 

You keep your eyes forward and your emotions in check, knowing that there could be neighbors watching. “Because we needed an excuse.”

“And of course, your first instinct is to throw me under the bus.”

“No, but I don’t see why I should always be the one to sacrifice myself?”

“‘Sacrifice yourself?’ I can’t recall you sacrificing anything, actually.”

You can’t say that he doesn’t, once again, disappoint you, but you glance at him, your lips parted. You definitely shouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re an ass,” you inform, “and on second thought, I think I’ll head back. Don’t really feel like hanging out with you.”

Holding your hand out, expecting him to pass the leash to you, you have to admit that what does surprise you is seeing him sigh and almost look… apologetic. Almost.

“I can still take him for a walk. I know you said he needed it, so I can do it, I don’t mind.”

For two seconds, you contemplate. But you don’t have the energy to argue and while you stare at Jeongguk, Fenrir pulls on the lead, excited for a long walk. You may dislike Jeongguk, but he seems weirdly fond of your dog.

“Fine.”

They’re gone for nearly two hours, leaving you to plan the coming days in peace, and when they return, Fenrir snoozes off happily under the dining table.

It turns out that the house’s sad excuse of a flower bed comes in handy for you. There are weeds and corpses of a few different plants you can’t identify sticking up from the dry dirt that lines the inside of the fence in the front yard. It’s not like you have an extreme interest in gardening, but thanks to your grandma, you know a few things, and coincidentally, working on it will give you a good reason to be outside, observing both the neighbors and possibly that god forsaken cat.

Wiping your forehead with your wrist so as to not transfer dirt from the gloves to your face, you gaze up, irritated at the sun. It just had to be an exceptionally warm summer, didn’t it? Insane beyond words, Jeongguk left about an hour ago to join Namjoon on his jog, and you almost hope he perishes from sunstroke or dehydration while away.

You’re wearing another light blue, flowy dress, your bare knees on the grass as you’re kneeling in front of the dirt. Despite the result of the flower bed being absolutely not important whatsoever, you’re still happy with what you’ve accomplished during the last hour or two.

Behind you is the pile of weeds you’ve managed to unearth, which is a lot. Unfortunately, you don’t have any live plants or even seeds to plant, so there’s just one more thing you can do today, which is watering the flowerless flower bed thoroughly.

It takes way too much effort to unroll the garden hose from its wall-mounted holder, but with the hose on the ground and the tiny little lever pulled just right, you hear the telltale sound of water moving through it.

The area you’ve “moved” into is a fairly dry one, so you’ll have to really drench the soil all the way down, and you waste no time.

As soon as you twist the muzzle, the water sputters until there’s a steady stream flowing. You twist some more, and the stream evolves into something more like a shower. It’s pretty, how the sun’s rays scatter on the many, many droplets, and you feel the slight breeze carry the very smallest of them to your skin. 

You take a deep, relaxing breath, enjoying the feeling and letting some tension go. You’ve been so uncomfortable here. Unsurprising, really, considering who else shares your house and what the mission means, but it’s really put a dent in your health. You have a hard time sleeping, scared of being snuck up on and murdered, and you don’t eat much, paranoid of being poisoned. Danger and evil is everywhere, around every corner.

You lift your gaze from the ground, and it falls on a specific house on the other side of the street. The cat, a ragdoll?, has shown himself maybe once. Perhaps you’ve also seen a suspiciously fluffy tail swish past a window once. His relative absence confirms your suspicion that he spends most of his time at a window facing the backyard and not the front.

You’re in the middle of planning a shorter side mission that might entail you, dressed in black from head to toe, and crawling through the tiny little, tree-sparse forest behind the Jung’s backyard fence when a sound catches your attention.

Before realizing that it’s Jeongguk calling your fake name, you’re startled, your body tensing up and turning around.

Still with the hose in your hand.

“What the?!” he exclaims, as he’s doused in the cold hose water, and you’re immediately trying to get your surprised hands to twist the muzzle shut.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” you apologize, eyes lowering from a half-naked (to whose surprise?) and dripping Jeongguk to your hands. 

The wet, slippery hose doesn’t cooperate, and so all you can do is redirect the water down onto the ground while you try your best to shut it off. 

Somewhere in the back of your head, you register… laughter, and big hands suddenly appear in your vision to take the hose from your hands.

When you peer up, you’re eye to eye with your partner, his hair wet and dripping water onto his face. But he’s grinning, seemingly carefree and not… angry?

Gently, he takes the hose and twists it shut, and when you look around, you notice the reason. There’s laughter coming from the small audience of Namjoon, also half-naked and sweaty from their run, and Eunha and Hoseok, leaning against their own fence on the other side of the street. Perhaps you also spot one of the older ladies living in a house further down the street peek her head out the open door at the ruckus.

“Thank you. And, uh, sorry,” you smile sheepishly, watching a droplet run down Jeongguk’s face and drip from the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay.”

But his smile grows as he takes a step back, and before you know it, he’s turning the water on again with you as his target.

“Jeo–Jaehyun!!” you shriek, holding your hands out in a feeble attempt to stop the cold stream from soaking your dress.

Oddly enough, your nemesis turns the setting to the softest stream, but you realize it perhaps wouldn’t look the best if he was witnessed trying to powerwash his wife’s skin from her bones.

Luckily for you, he only keeps it on for a few seconds, but you definitely think he enjoys it. When he shuts the water off again, he drops the hose to the ground to approach you.

You lock eyes, your heart beating heavily, and you don’t have the brain capacity to think about the others watching.

He steps closer, so much so that you’re nearly chest to chest, and your heart comes to a standstill instead as you peer up at him. Your skin is wet, almost as wet as his although your hair remains a bit dryer.

A water drop threatens to fall from a black strand hanging nearly in his eyes. Eyes that don’t waver from yours. They’re warmer, almost freckled with gold under the sun.

“Your dress is see-through.”

Not once, as he walks you back to the front door, shielding you with his own body, does he look down. Not even as the distance between you increases when you go to open the door to slip inside, instead, he looks away.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you’re thanking him. Well, you do, but you don’t.

“No problem,” he smiles, turning around to head back to his new-found buddy.

Around twenty minutes later, when you’re in a dry change of clothes, Jeongguk enters the house. 

“Eunha’s visiting her mom in two days. She’ll spend the night there too.”

You look up from your laptop where you’re sitting on the couch. Jeongguk is still half-naked because when is he not, but he’s also still a bit wet. Not as much, so you figure he must’ve dried off quite a bit out in the sun, already disappearing into the bathroom to return with a towel to pat the remaining water away with.

“What? How do you know that?”

“I heard her. She asked Namjoon where to buy a bonsai tree for her mom.”

“Oh,” you answer, trying not to stare as Jeongguk rubs the towel all over his hair, making his abdominal muscles flex. “That’s good. So, today is… Tuesday, meaning that she’ll leave on Thursday, and spend the night. Their cat’s favorite window is guaranteed at the back of the house, so if we find a way to figure out which exact window it is by Thursday… We can get inside then.”

“No, that’s too early. You want me to go to the poker night–the first one I’ve been invited to–and skip out early? Even if we do crack which window it is, it’s too risky. Too suspicious. I say we wait a week; watch the cat in the meantime, and I’ll leave early next week.”

You’re almost a bit taken aback. Since when does Jeongguk know how to converse–about your different opinions nonetheless–without calling you names and looking at you with disgust? Silently, you wonder if he slipped and fell on his head outside.

“It’s not. We use one of the battery-powered mini cameras and we set it up on their backyard fence tonight after dark, and you go to Namjoon’s on Thursday, stay for a drink or two, for maybe… an hour or two? I’ll call you and tell you that I’m sick.”

He watches you, still unconvinced but with a surprisingly optimistic look on his face.

“The quicker we get even the smallest lead that we can use in the investigation–and we can leave, the better. Even if it’s a bit less suspicious to postpone a week, the risks increase each day we’re here. Besides, we don’t know when the house will be empty again.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, and so you shut your eyes for a second before opening them and looking at him. “They’re not telling us anything; our best bet is to bug the house as soon as possible. You can tell them I’m pregnant or something. Say that it’s early on but that I’m still affected. You can even say that I’ve been sleeping on the couch because I throw up a lot and want to be near the bathroom and not disturb you. That I lied about you snoring because I didn’t want to tell anyone yet. ”

Finally, he seems to actually consider it, biting his cheek before he speaks. “Fine. We rig the camera tonight, and depending on how it goes, if we get clear enough evidence on the cat, we do it this week.”

“What do you say?” Jeongguk’s quiet voice sounds from your phone that’s lying on the kitchen table.

“A little more to the right. No, no, tilt it to the right,” you guide, both hands gripping the Ipad screen. Jeongguk follows your instructions and the Jungs’ house moves within the borders.

“There, there! That’s good; all windows are in frame.”

“Good, I’ll just… fasten it,” he informs, and you can hear the slight rustling and see the camera move minorly. “Still good?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. I’ll be back within five.”

With that, the call ends, and you sigh. The house is still displayed on the screen, in the night vision mode’s green tint. You make sure the screen is plugged in properly, and you adjust the settings to start recording at the smallest sign of movement.

Then, with approximately one minute left until Jeongguk’s return, you start preparing. He’s been more focused on the job the last few hours which is positive because the more focused he is, the less vile he is toward you.

You take a deep breath when the front door opens, silently reminding yourself to not stare at his body. Before he left, he got changed into a black, long-sleeved compression shirt and black cargo pants, and you’re not sure what’s worse, the usual lack of a shirt or this one because you can still see every little shape and bulge and dent in his upper body.

“Works?” he asks the moment he steps into the kitchen, heading directly toward the cupboard with glasses.

“Yeah, good, uh… job.”

The second it’s out, you shut your eyes briefly. You didn’t need to say that, he was gone for less than fifteen minutes. He taped a camera to a fence. Immediately, you brace yourself for the incoming insult. ‘It’s not hard when you have the slightest bit of talent in your body,’ or ‘do you really think I need compliments from you?’

“Thank you.”

You blink, certainly surprised. 

It would’ve been your turn on the couch if you hadn’t gotten fucking exposed. What bothers you is also that, after hearing Jeongguk’s reasoning, a small part of you is actually considering sleeping in the bed with him.

“We don’t even have curtains. And our windows are too big, if they look through them even from the street, they’ll most likely see you.”

Maybe you’re the one who hit their head somehow? Because you’re currently standing in the bedroom, watching Jeongguk pull the covers away. 

“That’s all you’re wearing?” you question, fidgeting with your hands and nodding toward his mostly-naked body. Of course, he’s bare up top, only wearing a pair of shorts, and it’s ridiculous how fit and muscular he is. The muscles in his arm flex when he grabs a pillow, and his abs move too when he positions it to his liking.

“Uh… Yeah? It’s summer; it’s hot as fuck.”

It doesn’t matter that he isn’t spitting insults in your face–you’re still not comfortable with him. Maybe even less so because why would he suddenly not take a very good chance to hurt you? Why didn’t he insinuate that you’re lucky to be able to witness a body like his? Sleep next to him in bed?

Should you do it? What happens if you don’t, and they notice you on the couch? You don’t think your neighbors are suspicious of you but will they be? If the mission fails–if you fuck it up–what will happen? You won’t pretend that your safety isn’t at risk.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or…?”

“What about Fenrir?”

Jeongguk plops down on the bed in a sitting position with his back against the headboard and clasps his hands behind his head. You try not to look at how his biceps bulge.

“I don’t mind him. In fact, I’d rather sleep beside him than you, so he might as well sleep in here too.”

There it is, some sort of insult. In fairness, you guess having someone as gorgeous and talented as Jeongguk also be kind would offset some sort of balance in the world. You just can’t have it all. 

While he watches, you open the closet and gather some shorts and a t-shirt in your arms, and without a word, you head out to the bathroom on the bottom floor.

Fenrir looks at you with his big, brown eyes when you unlock the bathroom door a few minutes later, having washed up and changed for the night. He’s an attentive dog–that’s why you got him–and he surely knows that you’re nervous. 

“Okay, we can do this,” you whisper to the dog, “It’s just one man, and you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.”

Not that Jeongguk would even look at Fenrir with anything remotely close to disgust, but it feels better when you remind yourself that Fenrir’s on your side. Sure, Jeongguk may like him, and perhaps Fenrir likes him back, but the dog is yours, and you are his favorite person.

When you return, Jeongguk is still sitting in bed, but he’s preoccupied with the phone in his hands. 

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow, then?” you ask, flicking the light switch off and trying to ignore your nerves as you approach the bed. 

“I’m not sure,” Jeongguk answers without looking up. The only lightsource in the room is the device in his hands, and it illuminates his face, “what do we need before we’re ready to enter the house?”

“Well, we’ve got the equipment and hopefully the window of time when Eunha’s away and Hoseok’s at Namjoon’s. If we’re lucky, we’re able to confirm which window to enter through tomorrow. I’d say all we need to do is perfect our excuse as to why you’ll have to return home without it seeming suspicious.”

You stop at the foot of the bed, disgusted at the thought of having babies with Jeongguk, even if they’re made up. 

“Also, we should probably see if we can find out more about their cameras, if there’s, you know, a plug to pull before entering just in case either of them decide to take a look. You could always try to steal Hoseok’s phone during the poker night or otherwise prevent him from looking, but Eunha might want to check in on the cat through hers.”

“I can have the chief make some calls to cut the power to their house for a few minutes?”

Surprised, you look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“I mean–yeah, if that’s a possibility? I didn’t know it was?”

He puts the phone down on the bedside table. “I think it is. It won’t work for the alarm since those have backup batteries, and there’s a small risk the cameras could as well, but it would be better than only disconnecting the router while already inside in case they have their own connection. We don’t know if the cameras are set to record movement or, like you said, Eunha decided to take a look either.”

His suggestion is good, you can’t deny that, but it makes irritation bubble in your veins. Yes, the chief is sexist like so many men in law enforcement, and your relationship isn’t the best, but to hear Jeongguk speak of the man as something like a friend? You doubt he’d be cutting power if you asked.

“So, are you getting in, or?”

Blinking in the low light, you realize that you’ve just been standing at the foot of the bed with both Jeongguk and Fenrir watching you, Fenrir from the floor beside the bed.

“Yes,” you sputter, not wanting your nerves to show. More determined than you’ve felt in quite some time–fake determination or not–you grab the duvet on your side to get under it. “Just a warning, though. If you touch me, I’ll get Fenrir to bite you. Fenrir, up!”

The big dog jumps up and lies down between you and Jeongguk, and you feel confident enough to lie down with your back toward him.

“If I touch you? You think I want to touch you?”

Like so many times before, your heart sinks. Of course, it doesn’t make sense that you care since you hate the man, but evidently, you do. You’ve begun to reach the conclusion that something’s wrong with you.

Unsurprisingly, you don’t sleep much. At all, really. So, you rise with the sun because what’s the use in lying in bed with an unconscious Jeongguk? He’s definitely pretty to look at, and sleep somehow makes him look almost… endearing, but you definitely know you shouldn’t, so you grab a change of clothes and leave the bedroom.

It’s eight a.m., and you’re sitting at the kitchen table when a newly awoken Jeongguk drags his feet into the kitchen. You look up from the tablet just in time to see him stretch his arms over his head and yawn. Still half-naked, of course.

“Didn’t expect you to be awake at a reasonable time,” he comments, nearly tripping over his own feet. It makes you snicker, and you curse to yourself.

“Dude, I don’t think you’re even awake.”

Jeongguk squints his light sensitive eyes at you, his hair sticking out in every direction and swaying as he approaches the fridge. After opening it, he reaches for the orange juice, and you think you feel the air turn slightly… awkward.

“So, today… We should look happy. Like, even happier than just newly-weds. As if we just found out you were… pregnant? Or should the story be that we’ve known a little while?”

Oh. Your fingers trace the rim of your own mug.

“Well, if I’m supposed to be sick tomorrow, then maybe it would be best if we say that we, or I, have been suspecting it because I’ve been feeling… the symptoms? And that it’s the reason I decided to test for it yesterday? We can act like we’re happy but trying to keep it a secret for a little while longer because it’s still early?”

Taking a sip from the blue mug in his hand, Jeongguk nods. “I’ll do the rounds, looking excited, but I won’t tell them until poker tomorrow when I explain why I’ll need to go home.”

“Because I’m sick and worried something might be wrong?”

“Yeah. By the way, did you have time to look through that yet?” he gestures toward the screen in your hand. “Did it show anything?”

“Yeah, I think we got it,” you smile hopefully.

Your sleepless night catches up to you, and while Jeongguk locks the door behind him to meet Namjoon for yet another morning run, you dive back into bed. Can you call it a nap if it’s not even ten a.m.? Who knows, but the extra sleep in a quiet house does you good.

At eleven, you stick your feet into your sandals to take Fenrir for a walk, but it isn’t long after you’ve stepped outside that you spot Jeongguk and Namjoon outside your short fence. Both are breathing heavily and more or less drenched in sweat. In all honesty, Namjoon is both slightly taller and bigger than Jeongguk, even if Jeongguk looks more… defined, but… it bothers you how your eyes are drawn so much more to Jeongguk. You, if anyone, know what a terrible person he is, and how he finds you appalling and gross and disgusting, yet you find yourself looking at him.

You manage to pass the men quickly, but since you’re supposed to be extra happy and in love today, you still make an effort to give your fake husband a heart-eyed smile and a kiss from your tippy toes, your hand on his sweaty chest. He looks down at you warmly, and you hope that you manage to look as happy as he does.

You allow Fenrir to do his business, and then, you’re on your way to Hyeji’s house. She’s on her porch when you approach, excitedly waving you closer.

“Good morning!” she greets, and even Bubbles comes running from inside the house, barking.

“Morning, how are you today?” you lean your arms on the fence, giving her your best ‘I just found out I’m having a child with the man of my dreams but I’m keeping it a secret for now’ smile.

“Great! How are you? Care for some tea?”

“I’m pretty great too. And sure, I’d love to,” you smile, intending on acting like you’re feeling sick but pretending to be good. Layers.

Hyeji grins, and as you head inside the fence and toward her porch with Fenrir in tow, you realize that perhaps you’ll miss her when all of this is over. If you make it out, that is, there are still a ton of risks.

For almost three hours, you sit and chit chat. You even forget that you’re supposed to act somewhat happy because you don’t have to act. In a way, Hyeji reminds you of your friends back home, of Sana and Jihyo, but despite how much you’d rather stay and talk about anything and everything (except your real life) with her, you should probably get going. 

Your mind is in overdrive during the short walk back to the house. Dark, mysterious eyes, friends, assignments, weapons. Gunshots. When you slide the unlocked front door open, the house is eerily quiet. Your heartbeat picks up.

“J–Jaehyun?” you call carefully, just in case Jeongguk is home but not alone. There’s no reply, but another sound. Like… groaning?

Briefly, you wonder if someone’s hurt, and logically, it would be Jeongguk. Slowly, you sneak through the front part of the house with Fenrir’s collar tightly gripped, until you see him.

It is Jeongguk, and he’s doing pull ups on one of those bars he installed in the doorway to the bathroom. Like earlier, he’s wearing shorts, his sweaty back facing you, and he appears to be listening to music through his headphones. For just a second, you let yourself admire him; his strong back and arms, and the sounds he makes. Then, you unleash Fenrir, chuckling a little to yourself when he lunges in excitement, startling Jeongguk to the point he almost falls on his ass.

“Didn’t hear you,” he heaves, bending down to scratch Fenrir behind the ears. 

“We noticed. How has it gone today, so far?”

Jeongguk straightens up, “Uh, pretty well. I’ve mainly been, you know, trying to build relations and acting extra happy. Also went through the footage up until now, and the result’s the same. It’s for sure that window.”

You nod, “That’s… good. Means we can proceed with the plan.”

The plan may not have been the most detailed or…  planned, and it definitely didn’t contain Jeongguk moving the old hammock–left behind in the backyard by the old owners–onto the porch and waving you closer when you step outside.

“It’s… cold,” you excuse, looking out over the street. It’s nine p.m., and the sun is setting over the neighborhood, but it doesn’t mean that its residents have retreated inside yet. In the distance, there’s still laughter and chatter echoing from someone’s backyard, and two houses over, people are sitting on the steps of their porch with wine glasses in their hands.

In a surprisingly good mood, Jeongguk keeps motioning for you to come closer. You do slowly, wrapping your arms around your dress-clad self.

Seeing Jeongguk look anything other than seething confuses you and nearly has you squinting your eyes at him in suspicion. An hour earlier, you went looking for Fenrir, calling his name throughout the house and starting to grow worried. Then you saw them through the window, playing in the backyard, and you stayed there, watching.

You don’t like seeing Jeongguk happy. It’s just not believable. To be fair, he didn’t know you were watching him, and he was alone with your dog with no one else around, so there was no use for him to pretend, but… it just can’t be real.

The eyes that are usually so dark with hatred and disgust–or at least used to be–crinkled in a way you’ve never really seen before. He smiled as he called for your dog’s attention, laughing happily when Fenrir went running for the ball Jeongguk threw. You observed as they played for a while, and then as Jeongguk sat down in the grass and patted his lap, Fenrir trotting over with the ball between his jaws and lying down across Jeongguk’s legs.

“Stop whining,” he teases, looking so handsome as he rises to stand before you, “and sit with me.”

Taking you by surprise, Jeongguk shrugs off the navy sweatshirt he’d been wearing and places it over your head before you can say anything about it. Somewhat reluctantly, you put your arms through the holes, gasping in surprise when Jeongguk tugs you down beside him by one of the inevitable sweater paws.

“Do you think they’re fooled?” he wonders quietly, still holding onto the sweater, “Do we look like newlyweds that can’t keep their hands off each other?”

“Umm, I don’t know. Never been a newlywed. Or married at all, actually.”

You’re not sure what it is, if it’s your quiet voices in the summer night air, or if it’s something else, but a calmness starts to settle in your chest.

Jeongguk chuckles, locating your hand in the fabric, “Well, me neither. But we look like we could be, at least I think. You’re not the worst actress, after all. Or wife.”

Eyebrows raised slightly, you meet his eyes. “How generous of you.”

He keeps smiling but doesn’t say anything more, and slowly, he raises his hand, stroking your cheek before gently holding your chin. Then, he moves closer, and he kisses you.

You let him, and you definitely do kiss him back. Slowly at first, then a little more eager. He tugs a little on your waist, and carefully, and with your heart beating out of your chest, you move onto his lap. He keeps his warm hands on your waist, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs, and you feel the rough fabric of his jeans against the skin of your legs.

At that moment, he’s sweet. Kind. Funny. You don’t think about the cockiness, the arrogance, the rolling of eyes, and insults directed your way. You live the fantasy, ringed fingers and feelings growing warmer. Being cared for, desired. But even if all of it were true, you’d have a lot to work through. And it isn’t true, it’s an act, especially from his side. The neighbor you saw peek over her hedge a minute ago just reminds you of it. It doesn’t stop you from coming to the realization that you want it. You want him to like you, you want him to want you.

Despite you not moving much on his lap, something soon happens. At first, you thought you imagined it, but no, he’s definitely getting hard underneath you while also slowly, slowly lowering one of his warm hands to the naked skin of your outer, lower thigh, and it triggers your fight or flight response. 

You pull back, fear in your eyes as you climb off him.

“Hey, I–” he tries, but you’re already back away.

“I gotta go, I, uh, have to get ready,” you excuse. 

Of course, there isn’t anything to get ready for, not until tomorrow anyway. But you turn, and you hurry inside, locking yourself in the bathroom.

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