How I Look At My Screen After Y/n Just Got Called Kitten/puppy/bunny

I need a hot sexy man with intense eyes to be obsessed with me I’m not kidding

Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au

pairing: sd!jungkook x reader genre: one-shot & yandere au

summary: You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you’re with him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much. 

content  & warnings: sugar daddy & ceo jk, college reader, toxic & manipulative behavior, unhealthy behavior, possessive & obsessive jk, yandere, bitchy reader, jk sabotaging reader’s career. word count: 12.9K

request prompt

disclaimer: This is pure fiction and I do not condone the acts of Jeon Jungkook in the story. All events and occurrences in here are all fictional and all are part of my imagination.

a/n: to the one who requested this, I hope you’ll like it! 

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EASY ⋆ CHAPTER ONE

summary when you’re young and swept up in the whirlwind of idol life, where every little move is scrutinized and relationships are hidden behind layers of secrecy, the pressure of the world watching makes everything so much more complicated. it's a lot. of course it is. yet, to jeon jungkook... loving you is still the easiest thing in the world.

⋆ please read the prologue first ⋆

pairing bts idol jk x female idol reader

genre idolverse, bff2l, fluff, angst

word count 13.1k

content read prologue for full fic warnings, chapter set in 2016, simp jk, down bad jk, heavy pining, touchy no-boundary bffs, gukkie's bday, two award shows, nct jaehyun appearance, eomma jang appearance, a bit of cursing, misunderstandings, jealousy, oc is confused, cringe fic, final proofread done on sleepy brain

author's note hello my patient little lovelies 💟 this chapter originally hit 20k 😭 but since it's a series, i decided to split it up to keep u guys excited for what's to come instead of giving it all away in one go :P had to cut a couple insaneeely cringy scenes 😒 so i’m v sorry if a few of the transitions are a bit choppy.. 💔 pls lemme know what u think tho!! love you lots<3

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CHAPTER ONE: Nineteen

"Close your eyes." 

Jungkook flinched at the sound of your voice, his phone slipping from his hand and landing on the couch cushion with a soft thud. 

His gaze had been focused on nothing, just scrolling aimlessly through Instagram while waiting for you to return. After the second movie of your marathon ended, you had suddenly disappeared into your room, leaving behind only a vague promise to 'be back in a sec!' 

Obviously, he had tried to follow, but you stopped him in his tracks and forced him to sit back down on the couch. Even made him promise not to move. 

So now, Jungkook barely registered your words, his mind too focused on the fact that you were finally back. Instinctively, he began to turn around. But before he could even glance in your direction, you gently placed a hand on his head, halting him in place. 

"Uh-uh," you laughed, your voice light, the sound brushing past his ear like a whisper. It tickled. "Close your eyes, ttoki." 

The closeness of your voice sent a tingle, or seven, down his spine. Without a second thought, his eyes fluttered shut. Whether it was from the command itself, or the undeniable effect you had on him, he wasn't sure. 

You stood on your toes, leaning in to make sure his eyes were firmly closed, your face hovering close enough that he could smell the popcorn on your breath. He shivered.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips as you quietly moved around to the front of the couch and plopped down beside him, the cushion dipping under your weight. 

"Hold out your hands," you instructed softly, biting your lip to stifle your excitement. 

Without hesitation, Jungkook complied, turning his palms up in front of him. He expected something small—a snack, maybe, or one of the random trinkets you were always carrying around. But when you laid something soft and surprisingly heavy in his hands, his fingers instinctively closed around it, feeling the familiar texture of fabric. 

“It just arrived yesterday,” you explained. “And we’ve been together since, so I didn’t get the chance to wrap it properly…” 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed in confusion, even with his eyes still firmly shut. "But… you already gave me my gift?" he said, his head tilting slightly toward you. 

“Ttoki,” you chuckled, reaching over to brush your hand against his forehead, smoothing the crease that had formed. “I made you pancakes for breakfast. That’s not a real gift.” 

“They were amazing, though…” he mumbled, leaning into your touch, his face melting into that squishy pout that always melted your heart. 

“I’m glad you liked them,” you replied with a laugh, giving his cheek a light pinch before settling back against the couch. “Okay. Open your eyes.” 

Slowly, Jungkook blinked his eyes open, clearing the blur from his vision as he glanced down at the item in his hands. The air in his lungs froze. 

It was an Off-White skate tee. Thee Off-White skate tee. 

The same one that had been discontinued months ago. The one he’d casually mentioned to you, lamenting how he hadn’t bought it when he had the chance. He had even confessed to you once—when you’d slyly prodded him for more details about the shirt—that he’d hesitated back when it was available. At the time, he and his brothers were barely scraping by, and he’d been too cautious to spend what little money he had on something like that. Now, he could buy it a hundred times over, but it was too late. The brand no longer made that style.

Yet, here it was. In his hands. 

Jungkook stared at the shirt like he’d never seen a piece of clothing before. His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the fabric, running his fingers over the soft material. "How… how did you get this?" he asked, his voice barely audible, eyes still glued to the shirt. 

You smiled, pleased with his reaction. “I found it on HandMeDown,” you explained, referring to the app where people in Seoul sold their secondhand clothes. “And don’t worry, I already washed it. It’s ready to wear.” 

Jungkook instinctively brought the shirt to his nose, the familiar scent of your fabric conditioner filling his senses. He swallowed back a sigh. “So that’s why you didn’t want me doing your laundry yesterday…” he hummed in realization, now laying the shirt across his lap and staring at it in awe. 

“Well, that, and Jiyoung-unnie was offended that you only do mine and not hers,” you giggled. 

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement as if to say, and what about it? 

He looked at you then, the gratitude and affection in his eyes overwhelming. “Jjogi…” he said, his voice thick. “Thank you. I love it so much.” 

Without another word, Jungkook pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin made you shiver, but you smiled, wrapping your arms around him in return. 

“That’s okay, ttoki. I’m glad you like it,” you murmured, your hands moving in gentle circles on his back, your nails lightly scratching the spots you knew he liked. “I’m just sorry this isn’t the big, fancy 19th birthday party that you deserve.” 

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his his dark eyes soft as they searched your face. "This is all I wanted," he said simply. "I asked for this…" 

You tilted your head, still holding his gaze as your fingers rest gently on his shoulders. "Yeah, I know you wanted Iron Man and time to just relax," you replied with a small smile. “But I still feel bad that everyone else couldn’t come because of those stupid reshoots… They should be back soon, though.” 

"Ah," Jungkook mumbled, his teeth catching his lower lip as he nibbled on it—a habit of his when he was lost in thought. 

Reshoots. Right. 

That was the excuse Namjoon had come up with, conveniently keeping the others away for the night. In reality, Jungkook had asked Namjoon to give him the day alone with you—just you. And Namjoon, being the good hyung he was, made it happen. 

Even though Jungkook knew you would’ve been perfectly fine with just you and him for his birthday, he also knew you. Knew that you would've felt guilty for not having the whole group there. Could practically hear your soft voice reminding him how excited the others were to celebrate his birthday, how they would've loved to watch Iron Man with him. 

But he didn’t want to watch Iron Man with them. He wanted to watch Iron Man with you. 

"That's okay," Jungkook said softly. "I’m more than happy with tonight. It’s—it’s everything I wanted." 

"Good." You let out a sigh of relief, your hands covering his as they rested on his lap. "Happy birthday, ttoki. You deserve everything you want. I love you so much, you know that?" 

"I do. And I love you more." His words came so easily, so naturally, like they were meant to exist only between the two of you. His gaze lingered on yours for a moment before he turned to gently set the shirt aside. "Thank you so much, jjogi. God, you're just—" 

Jungkook cut himself short with a huff, as if whatever he was about to say would’ve been too much. Instead, he leaned forward, and gently guided your arms around his neck. In one motion, he maneuvered you down onto the couch beneath him, your soft laughter filling his ears as you sank into the cushions. 

He settled comfortably on top of you, his head finding its place in the crook of your neck. "Let’s sleep," he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin. 

“But we still have the third movie to get through,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction as your hands wandered down to gently poke his side. 

Jungkook grunted, burrowing deeper into you, making it abundantly clear he wasn’t planning on moving. “Nap first,” he grumbled. 

You laughed, poking him again. “And you don’t want any of your birthday cake?” 

Jungkook shook his head lazily, a quiet no escaping his lips as he tightened his arms around you. 

You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. “Well, we should at least move to a bed. We’ll regret sleeping here in the morning.” 

Jungkook shook his head again, his voice barely a whisper now. “Just a nap…” 

After a pause, he tilted his head back slightly, his dark eyes peeking up at you as he added, almost innocently, “By the way, how much was it?” 

You froze for a second, pretending not to hear the question as your fingers continued their slow, soothing strokes through his hair. “Hm? How much was what?” 

He let out a soft hum, clearly enjoying your touch, before murmuring sleepily, “The shirt.” 

You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to think of a response. “Mmm, I don’t remember,” you finally whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek in hopes of distracting him. “Let’s sleep,” you added, guiding his head back down against your chest as you leaned into the throw pillow behind you. 

What were you supposed to say? 

That you’d saved every bit of your allowance for three months just to afford it? That you’d scoured every corner of the internet before stumbling upon it on some random resale app, only to have MarkLee99 refuse to let you haggle the price down, no matter how hard you tried? 

It wasn’t that you were embarrassed about your finances in front of Jungkook. God, no. You both had been through way too much together for that. Spent too many nights, broke and broken, licking the seasoning off the snack bags your mom sent from Daegu during trainee days when meals were sparse. 

It wasn’t shame— it was that you just didn’t want him to worry. He did that a lot when it came to you. 

Jungkook hummed softly, his muscles growing heavier. He knew. He knew that shirt cost you a lot, more than you’d ever admit. You spent your money on him—just him. And god, you were so fucking perfect for that. 

Of course he wasn’t going to let it go. He'd pester you tomorrow—or maybe the day after, as a thank you for such an amazing night. But for now? He wasn’t moving. Not from this spot. Not from you. 

Jungkook’s eyes finally fluttered shut, his body sinking deeper into yours as sleep began to pull him under. He made sure to keep most of his weight pressed into the couch, though his body stayed comfortably intertwined with yours. 

And then he waited. 

Patiently listening to the steady rhythm of your breathing, the quiet rise and fall of your chest beneath him, until it finally evened out—reassuring him that you were fast asleep. 

Only then did he allow himself to slip into unconsciousness, his mind full of you, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Best birthday ever.

Mnet Asian Music Awards 

“And now, the nominees for Song of the Year…” 

Jungkook’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Not out of boredom or disinterest—no, nothing like that. But because this way, he could catch glimpses of you in his peripheral vision without needing to strain his eyes around Jimin’s frame or tilt his head in an obvious way. Just the edge of your figure, the way your jewelery shimmered in the lights, the way your hands fidgeted in your lap. He wanted to see your reaction properly, but he had to be careful.

“BTS - Blood Sweat and Tears,” “Exo - Monster,” “GFriend - Rough,” “LUMI - Supernatural,” “Twice - Cheer Up.” 

GFriend’s performance had been incredible, and he knew you would've been quietly geeking out over it. You loved the group, especially their song “Rough,” your favorite at the moment. He could practically hear you humming the chorus in his head, like you’d done all month.

It made him smile, remembering how you made him sing it with you that one time. Late night in the practice room, giggling uncontrollably when he forced himself to sing off-key.

Jungkook wished he could’ve seen your face light up when they sang it, but he’s already in hot water for not keeping his expressions in check when you both attend award shows. His managers, his hyungs, and even your leader, Nari, had all warned him.

Nari-noona was kindhearted, much like his own leader. But she was fiercely protective of her members, just as Namjoon-hyung was of his. 

A few weeks ago, at an event where both your groups attended, a clip had gone viral of Jungkook staring at you for a little too long to be considered just a glance. 

It wasn't just a glance, of course—he had been completely distracted by how good you looked in that gown that night, stealing far more looks than the internet even caught wind of. But the world didn’t need to know that. 

Still, the six-second clip had been enough to send netizens into a fucking frenzy. 

He wasn’t surprised when the criticism came for him; that always happened. But when you took the brunt of the backlash... yeah, that fucking gutted him. 

Nari knew you wouldn’t say anything to Jungkook about it—and you didn't—because you didn’t blame him. You never blamed him for the gossip or the way the internet twisted things. It was just a look. 

But the industry you were both in could be as toxic as it was rewarding, and Nari had gently reminded him, in that older sister way, that when you’re constantly in the limelight like he was now, things are different. Even when he thought nobody was paying attention, it only took one person to notice. 

She had also pointed out that, as endearing as it was, Jungkook was utterly hopeless at hiding his feelings. Everything was always written right across his face, whether he meant it to be or not. 

Though BTS was technically the senior group to LUMI, Nari had been in the industry nearly as long as Namjoon, and both were wise beyond their years. Jungkook would never disregard advice from either of them. 

He had promised Nari that he understood, that he was sorry, that he would do better to protect you. 

Nari had just smiled. She already knew he would. 

"And the 2016 Mnet Asian Music Award winner for Song of the Year… LUMI, Supernatural! Congratulations!" 

And just like that, all prior thoughts of keeping his cool completely and utterly evaporated. 

Before he could stop himself, Jungkook shot to his feet, his fists punching the air as if he just won the fucking daesang. “YES. Wooooooo!!!" 

The stadium exploded in applause, but Jungkook barely registered the noise. His heart pounded in his chest, the euphoria of your win surging through him like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Especially when the first thing you did after Cha Seungwon announced your group’s win was look at him. Not just in his direction, but directly at him. 

Your eyes were wide with disbelief, face glowing with pure joy. Jungkook’s breath hitched at the sight. God, you were so beautiful when you were happy. 

“Thank fuck,” he muttered under his breath, clapping so hard his palms stung. 

No one deserved this award more than your group. "Supernatural" was massive. It dominated the charts in Korea and made waves internationally too. It was everywhere for months—it still was. 

He remembered when it first dropped. You were out of town for promo, and when the song played over the speakers at a little local cafe where he was picking up drinks for his members, he couldn’t resist Facetiming you. 

You’d been over the moon, screaming into the phone, and made him stay on the line with you until the song ended. He found an empty booth in the back, pulled up his hoodie, and and sat there on the phone with you until all the coffees he’d ordered had gone cold. 

Now, as the cameras flashed and chaos ensued around him, Jungkook's focus was locked on you—watching as your members pulled you into a group hug, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. When you broke away to head for the stage and he remembered you’d have to pass by him… he stood a little straighter. 

His hyungs were cheering too—maybe not as embarrassingly as he was—but they knew, just like he did, what this moment meant. You had all trained together, struggled together, grew up in the industry together. Getting this sort of recognition after so much hard work was a feeling that they understood all too well. 

As your group bowed to the senior idols seated to his left, you approached the stage steps directly in front of him. Nari was leading the way, but Jungkook noticed the subtle nudge you gave her. It was so slight, anyone else would’ve missed it. But not him. 

Nari glanced back at you, confusion flickering across her face for a split second before realization dawned. A knowing smile tugged at her lips as she shifted gracefully, taking a few steps to the side, drawing the camera’s attention with her. 

Then the crowd exploded. The loudest cheers of the night echoed around the arena as Nari led the four of you in a deep bow toward BTS. 

Jungkook’s grin widened, his heart pounding all over again as you lifted your head, the most adorable fucking smile lighting up your face. He and his members grinned, returning the bow instantly. Taehyung and Jimin added their own touch, wiggling their fingers at your group in a goofy, showing-off way, snickering as the cameras ate it all up.

As Jungkook’s hands stilled, he clasped them together in front of him, fighting off every urge in his body to pull you into his arms and congratulate you properly. He wanted to—god, he wanted to—but he couldn’t. Not now, with every lens in the room trained on you both. Instead, he stayed rooted, lips parting as if to say something, but closing quickly. 

You didn’t need words. You never did. 

With a little tilt of your head, a soft crinkle of your eyes, you said it all. You knew exactly what he was feeling, and the sweet smile you shot him left his pulse racing. He felt his throat tighten as he swallowed a little too hard, catching the way you bit your lip as you fought off a grin before taking Eunji’s extended hand and heading up onto the platform. 

The cameramen scrambled to adjust their angles as your group walked toward center stage. It had been less than two minutes since your name was announced, but for Jungkook, it felt like twenty. 

It was ridiculous, really. That stupid, adorable fucking smile of yours, always making him lose his train of thought. And now, apparently, his sense of time too.

With a huff, he dropped back into his seat next to Jimin, already bracing himself for the grilling he'd get once the show aired. 

Oh well, what were they going to do? Fire him? 

"Wah," Nari's breathless voice echoed through the speakers. The crowd roared in response, bringing a wide grin to her face. Jungkook smiled, watching as you and your members marvelled at the trophy in your leader's hands before turning back to the audience. 

"I don’t know what to say, and I always know what to say..." Nari laughed, sending another wave of cheers through the stadium. "I know this might sound like false humility, but we really didn’t think we would win… I mean..." 

The crowd erupted in laughter as Nari gestured playfully toward the right, where your sunbae group, Exo, sat. The cameras zoomed in on the group’s modest smiles and head shakes and Jungkook shared a knowing glance with his own members. 

You and the rest of LUMI giggled softly, nudging Nari as she bowed sheepishly toward the senior group before regaining her composure. 

“Okay, okay… ah, here we go,” Nari chuckled, taking a deep breath as she steadied herself in front of the microphone. "Thank you, Bang PD-nim and BigHit Entertainment for these unbelievable opportunities… Thank you to our amazing friends and families for always loving and supporting us... And thank you to our incredible seniors for showing us what it means to never give up." 

The crowd’s response was deafening. Like, ear-piercingly loud. Jungkook soon realized the cause of the explosion when he glanced up at the large LCD screens overhead and saw Taehyung and Jimin displayed in all their glory, posing dramatically for the shot.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckling along with Hobi, yet extremely grateful that the camera didn’t pan to him. He was self-aware enough to know that his eyes were probably shaped like fucking hearts right now.

"And most importantly… thank you so much, Nova," Nari continued, fingers tracing the edges of the trophy. The applause swelled again, somehow even louder than before. "This means more to us than we could ever put into words. We work hard, but Nova, you worked even harder to get us here. This is as much yours as it is ours. Thank you. We love you." 

As Nari stepped back with a bow, Jungkook swore he saw her eyes glistening, and his smile softened. He’d never seen Nari-noona cry before. 

She waved a calm hand out to you and your members members, signaling for one of you to speak next. Jungkook leaned back in his seat, clapping along with the rest of the room, and beside him, Namjoon let out a low, impressed sigh. “Incredible,” he murmured. 

Jungkook and Jimin exchanged looks, snickering but nodding in agreement. Jungkook’s gaze found its way back to you and your members, watching as you all looked at each other, shaking your heads and silently insisting, no, you go. 

He almost chuckled aloud, surprised that Jiyoung wasn’t clamoring for the microphone—he couldn’t recall a time when she wasn’t chatting his ear off. 

Nari rolled her eyes playfully before gently nudging you toward the microphone.

Jungkook knew there was a camera pointed at him, and he hoped it didn’t catch the way he jerked slightly in his seat, maybe a little too eager for you to hear you speak. 

“Ah,” you chuckled nervously as the stadium exploded into cheers the moment you took the mic. A blush crept up your cheeks, and Jungkook instinctively leaned forward, lifting a hand to hide the smile tugging at his lips. 

“I don’t- uh…” you began, your voice soft as you glanced at your members, who nodded at you encouragingly. "Sorry," you murmed into the microphone with a light laugh, clearing your throat as you gathered your thoughts. "Mmm, well, when we were writing this song, we were so excited to see what people would think, and, well… it seems you liked it?” 

Jungkook bit back a groan. So fucking cute. 

He already knew you weren't a fan of public speaking, just as he wasn't. But still, to see the most secure girl he knew, the most powerful performer he’d ever seen, turn all blushy and shy when she had to give a speech? Fucking hell. 

“Nari-unnie already said it all, but really, we’re so happy and sooo thankful. We will continue to work hard, always… Ahh, we love you, Nova. Thank you so much. Thank you.” 

Your words drew another round of applause as you stumbled back from the mic, your members giggling softly as they patted you all over in encouragement. Jungkook nodded giddily, his grin widening when you glanced in his direction, flashing him one last pretty smile before bowing to the crowd with your sisters.

As soon as your group stepped backstage, the lights, cheers, and noise seemed to fade, replaced by the hum of the crew and the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air. The adrenaline pulsing through your veins was slowly ebbing away, leaving you standing in the midst of it all, clutching the trophy in your hands. 

You’d been the only one of your members who hadn’t cried during the acceptance speech. But now, as you stared down at the shiny trophy, the weight of the moment crashed over you in a heavy wave. The reality of it all—the sleepless nights, the endless rehearsals, the doubts and fears you all shared. It hit you square in the chest. 

You just won a fucking daesang. 

Before you could stop yourself, your shoulders shook and a choky sob escaped from deep in your chest. 

Nari was the first to rush to your side, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame, her own eyes red and watery. “Oh, honey…” she whispered, pulling you close. Within seconds, Eunji and Jiyoung were there too, the three of them surrounding you in a tight, protective circle, holding you tightly as your tears fell unchecked.

Jiyoung buried her face in your shoulder, crying softly. Eunji wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, biting her lip to keep her tears in check, but it was no use. Nari held you even tighter, her lips pressed to your hair as she rocked you gently. 

"Thank you so much, Nari-unnie," you managed to whisper through your sobs. Nari shook her head, a teary smile on her face as she gently brushed some stray hair away from your eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you. Any of you,” you sniffled, glancing between your unnies.

Your members cooed softly, pulling you closer as you giggled through the tears. When they finally pulled back, your face was still damp, but there was a faint smile tugging at your lips.  “I can’t believe we did it..” you croaked, shaking your head in disbelief as your eyes flickered down to the award in your hands.

“It still feels unreal,” Eunji agreed with a laugh, her own tears mingling with her smile. “Like, I’m waiting to wake up… I’ve had this dream so many times.” 

Jiyoung snickered, wiping her eyes. “Right? If I turn around and see Lee Junho walking toward me shirtless…” 

The room erupted into giggles, the tension breaking as your members shoved Jiyoung for her comment. You handed the trophy over to your manager for safekeeping, still laughing as you wiped at your cheeks.

With a gentle nudge from the staff, you were ushered off to tidy up your makeup. It gave you time to calm down, maybe catch your breath, but the excitement still bubbled under your skin. Especially with SHINee’s performance coming up in just a few more categories!!! 

When you stepped back from the mirror you thanked your makeup artist, Julie, with a hug and waited for Nari and Eunji to finish up. But as you waited, there came a gentle nudge to your side, and you glanced over to find Jiyoung stifling a giggle. 

“Look over there,” she whispered, nodding toward the back of the room. 

Your curious eyes followed her gaze, scanning the backstage area until you spotted him—a tall, undeniably handsome guy standing a little away from his group. He seemed calm, focused on a conversation with his manager, but the moment your eyes locked, his expression faltered. His face flushed pink before he immediately looked away all… embarrassed?

You frowned, turning back to Jiyoung. “Stop it,” you whispered, giving her a little swat on the arm. 

But you couldn’t help yourself. As your group began moving toward the exit, you stole another glance over your shoulder, and there he was again. This time, his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you, eyes wide and frozen. Not in a creepy way, though. More like a deer caught in headlights. 

You hesitated slightly, your group moving ahead without noticing that you had stopped. With a small smile, you turned back toward him and offered a little bow. His reaction was immediate—his eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and he returned the bow so fast you almost worried he’d pull a muscle. 

Nari soon noticed you lingering behind and a little frown pulled at her brow, but before she could make a move to fetch you, Jiyoung grabbed her arm. “Leave her,” she whispered with a smirk, tugging Nari back toward the exit. 

Meanwhile, you made your way over to the guy. He was definitely an idol, though his name escaped you at the moment. “Are you okay?” you asked gently. “Do you need something?” 

His face flushed as he stammered, "I-I’m sorry, no. I just— uh, I love your music. Your group is incredible. I’ve been listening to 'Supernatural' nonstop! Seriously! I was wondering if… if you’re performing tonight?” 

“Oh, wow, thank you so much.” Your smile brightened at his sincerity, still not used to receiving compliments like that. “Yeah, we’ll be performing at around nine.” 

His shoulders relaxed, and a shy smile crept across his face. “That’s great. I’ll definitely be watching… I’m Jeong Jaehyun, from NCT? We just, um, just debuted recently.” 

"Ahh, that’s why you look so familiar!" you exclaimed, recognition lighting up your face. “I saw your debut stage! It was amazing!” 

Jaehyun’s ears turned a deep shade of red as he ducked his head. “Ah, thank you so much, wow, that... that means a lot.” 

The conversation grew easier after that, his nervousness slowly melting away. His humor naturally peeked through, and you even found out he was a fellow ’97-liner. He was genuine and sweet. Jeonggukkie would love him, you thought. 

As Jaehyun fidgeted, his hand subtly patting his pocket as though reaching for something, the sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention. 

When you glanced over your shoulder, you smiled as you spotted Jungkook and Taehyung making their way to you guys. Jaehyun’s reaction was almost comical with the way his eyes widened again as he immediately bowed deeply, all stiff and formal. You bit back a laugh as you remembered what it was like to meet your idols for the first time. At least he didn't cry.

Jungkook and Taehyung greeted Jaehyun , their kind demeanour helping him ease up, though he still stumbled over his words every now and then. Especially when Jaehyun managed to make Taehyung laugh. The look of pure joy on his face was so adorable. 

After a few minutes of chatting, you glanced toward the stage. “We should get back out there…” you said, nodding toward the performance area. “The next category is coming up soon.” 

Jungkook nodded, stepping a little closer to you while Taehyung followed suit. “Yeah, we’ll catch up later,” Jungkook added with a friendly nod toward Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun bowed like his life depended on it and smiled handsomely. “Cool! Yeah, absolutely! Have a good performance! Good luck!” 

With a wave and a smile, you fell into step beside Jungkook and Taehyung, the three of you heading back toward the guest section. As you walked, you glanced over your shoulder one last time, catching Jaehyun’s lingering gaze. You couldn’t help but laugh softly before turning away.

“You know,” Taehyung started, his voice teasing, “you could’ve just said SHINee is coming up. You didn’t have to say ‘the next category.’” 

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Shut up,” you mumbled with a little shove. He wasn't wrong.

Meanwhile, Mark, who had been watching the entire exchange from a distance, sidled up to Jaehyun with a teasing smirk. “So, how’d it go?” he asked, nudging his bandmate’s shoulder. “Did you tell her how you’ve been in love with her since you were just a shy little trainee—” 

“Shut up,” Jaehyun muttered, his face burning as he shoved his phone back into his pocket, grumbling. “She had to go.” 

Mark laughed, watching as Jaehyun’s gaze drifted back toward you for one last fleeting glance before he sighed in quiet defeat.

As you, Jungkook, and Taehyung continued toward the guest section, Taehyung suddenly slowed. “Hold up,” he muttered, glancing between you and Jungkook. “Needa go to the bathroom real quick.” 

You smiled, nodding toward the nearby restroom. “Okay. We’ll wait here.” 

With a quick nod, Taehyung slipped through the door, leaving you and Jungkook standing alone in the quiet hallway. You leaned back against the wall, the hum of applause from the show pounding through the walls. 

Jungkook shifted beside you before leaning in. “So proud of you, jjogi.” 

You looked up at him, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Thank you, ttoki,” you replied sweetly, instinctively glancing around the empty hall. “I’m so proud of you too, Mr. Album of the Year.”

His big eyes met yours, a cute grin tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Mrs. Song of the Year,” he shot back, his bunny teeth peeking out as he tilted his head. 

Your cheeks heated up, your smile widening as you smoothed over your dress, hands twitching with the desire to pull him into a hug. But you knew better.

With one more quick glance at your surroundings, you leaned in, lifting a hand to the side of your mouth as if whispering a secret. “Love you.” 

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled into a smile, his hands mimicking yours as he leaned closer. “I love you more…”

Before you could reply, the bathroom door swung open and Taehyung strolled out, slipping between you and Jungkook with a content grin. “Alright, let’s go.” 

As the three of you walked together, a question popped into your mind. “Hey, why were you guys backstage?” you asked, glancing curiously between the two. 

Taehyung shrugged, hands tucked in his pockets. “Jeonggukkie needed something.” 

Your brow raised as you leaned forward, looking past Taehyung at Jungkook. “Oh? Did you get what you needed?” 

He hummed, his gaze shifting toward you with a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah,” he replied simply. 

MBC Gayo Daejejeon 

The current artists, Lovelyz, were wrapping up their performance, final notes fading as the audience erupted into applause. 

The sound echoed all the way down the hall where you and your members stood in a tight semi-circle. There was a buzz in the air, a thick mix of nerves and excitement. A water bottle made its rounds between the four of you, each taking quick sips. 

You were up next. 

Adjusting the mic taped to your cheek, you exhaled slowly, trying to calm the rush of adrenaline. Your heart was racing, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. It was the kind of thrill that made you feel like you could do anything. You glanced at Jiyoung, who was bouncing on her feet, twisting her hands together. 

A teasing smile tugged at your lips. "Unnie—" 

Before you could finish, the stage director rushed over, his arms gesturing in wide urgent motions. "Let’s go, girls! You’re next!" 

As the four of you reached the stage doors, waiting as they slowly slid open, something clicked inside you. That version of yourself that existed onstage snapped into place like armour, any nerves you might have had completely melting away.

It was almost strange, really, how easily you slipped into this other self. Offstage, you were confident, sure. But onstage, you were something else. The rush was intoxicating, like a drug you craved more than anything. 

Your mom had always said you liked attention. 

The stadium lights dimmed, casting long, dramatic shadows along the floor as you and your sisters strode toward centre stage. For a second, everything slowed, the noise of the crowd fading into the background. 

Then, No More Dream exploded through the speakers, and the crowd roared even louder, the sheer strength of their cries vibrating the ground beneath your feet. You dropped to one knee, taking your position at the front of Nari, with Eunji and Jiyoung flanking her sides. 

Just as you were about to launch into the performance, something tugged at the edges of your awareness. A strange sensation, a tightness in your chest. Your brow furrowed ever so slightly.

Huh… You’d never gotten stage fright before.

Not during your first audition, when the judges’ eyes felt like they were burning holes straight through your soul. Not during the grueling trainee days, when one by one, the girls you’d grown close to disappeared, cut from the potential lineup. Not even when your group had teetered on the brink of disbandment, when everything you’d worked for since you were too young to fully understand the true scope of things, dangled by a thread.

The stage had always been your safe space. Nerves were never the enemy. They were fuel, pushing you to be better.

So why now, of all times, did you feel a prickle of sweat forming at the base of your hairline…

In the second row, you caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook, elbowing Taehyung in the ribs, his face scrunched in annoyance. He was trying to get Taehyung to stop leaning over him to chat with Jin. His lips moved quickly, whining in that way he always did when he was being ignored. 

“It’s starting,” Jungkook whined, placing a hand on Taehyung’s chest, trying to push him back into his seat. 

They were being so loud. If Jungkook missed even a single second of your performance because of his hyungs, he was going to fucking lose it. 

Taehyung finally grumbled something and settled into his seat. Jungkook’s eyes quickly snapped back to the stage, his eyes locking onto yours instantly. 

The second your gaze met, a smile tugged at your lips, easing the weird tension you’d felt moments before until it melted away, just like that. You didn’t even think about it—you were just grateful. 

“I wanna…”

When you’d first been asked to choose a song to cover for Gayo Daejejeon, your producer had mentioned offhandedly that BTS had picked one of your group’s songs for their performance. 

You’d been curious at first, but it wasn’t until later, during a game of Uno, that Jimin had let it slip. 

“It was Jeonggukkie’s idea,” he’d said, grinning at you while tossing down a +4 card with wicked delight. 

The memory bubbled up now as you transitioned into the next part of the choreo, your mind flicking back to the way Jungkook had pouted when you’d teased him about his suggestion during movie night in his room. 

“If you keep teasing me, I’ll ask them to change it,” he grumbled, pouting in that way only he could. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” you relented, giggling. “We could... cover one of your songs too?” 

His pout vanished instantly, replaced by an excited grin that lit up his entire face. “Deal!” he said, practically bouncing on the bed. Then, he quickly added, "but you have to do my lines, though." 

You groaned dramatically, playfully pushing out your bottom lip in protest. “But I wanted to do Namjoonie-oppa’s part…” 

The memory of him yanking the blanket over his head like a sulking bunny still made you smile. He’d curled up into a ball on his bed, refusing to come out until you’d given in and cuddled him for the rest of the movie.

Dramatic didn’t even begin to cover it. 

And now, here you were, on stage, trying to bite back that same laugh as you rose from behind Nari as she finished RM's line. You brought the mic to your lips, your free hand running through your hair in the way Jungkook had taught you. 

"Arasseo… eomma jigeum dokseosil gandanikka?" 

"Yahhh!" Jungkook’s giddy cheer was muffled by his hand covering his mouth. 

He was trying, and failing, not to react too enthusiastically. His grin was wide behind his fingers, eyes glued to you as you moved across the stage. 

"She’s literally a female Jeonggukkie," Taehyung laughed, nudging the youngest with his elbow. 

The rest of BTS nodded in agreement, expressions a mixture of amusement and admiration as they watched you copy Jungkook’s mannerisms with scary accuracy. 

Jungkook’s mouth twitched, trying to hold back a bigger smile at Tae’s comment, but his eyes never left you. He watched intently as you slinked back to the center after Eunji’s verse. 

"Ah, she’s doing Kookie’s rap?" Jin leaned in, eyebrows raised in intrigue. 

"Mhm," Jimin confirmed with a nod, his fingers drumming against his knees. "She can rap well." 

Jungkook let out a soft, dreamy sigh, leaning back in his seat. “She can do everything well,” he mumbled, not even trying to hide the affection in his voice. 

His hyungs groaned in unison, the sound almost drowning out the cheers from the crowd. Rolling their eyes at the lovesick tone in his voice, they shook their heads and shoved playfully at the maknae. 

Jungkook just giggled with an unashamed shrug.

Jiyoung was the first to break the post-performance haze as you slipped through the backstage curtain. "God, that choreo is so fucked," she groaned, running a hand through her sweat drenched hair.

"I know," you laughed, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face as you glanced down at her legs. "How are your knees?"

Jiyoung gave your hair a ruffle as you worriedly rubbed her kneecaps through the fabric of her jeans. "They’re fine, honey. Like I was going to ruin my fit with a pair of ugly kneepads."

You snickered, rolling your eyes. "Priorities..." you teased, giving her legs one last pat before straightening up. "You guys thirsty? I can grab drinks."

But before you could move, you noticed your members exchanging sly, knowing glances.

"That’s okay, we’ll get our own drinks," Jiyoung said with a little smirk. Eunji giggled, elbowing her lightly as they began to walk away.

"Huh—" You didn’t quite get a chance to question them.

Nari flashed you a soft smile as she linked arms with the other two. "We’ll be at the monitors," she called over her shoulder, leaving you standing there—confused and suddenly alone.

That confusion quickly melted away when you turned around, finding yourself face to face with your favorite pair of big, boba eyes.

“Oh, hi, ttoki,” you smiled.

"Hi," he echoed, flashing you a pretty grin as he held out a cold bottle of water toward you.

Before you could take the bottle from his grasp, Jungkook’s hand gently caught your outstretched one, pulling you in with one quick motion. Laughter bubbled up in your chest as you stumbled into him, his arms wrapping around your waist like they belonged there and only there.

Jungkook sighed softly, his body relaxing as he pulled you closer, your arms naturally finding their way around his neck. The moment was so familiar, so easy, that you didn't even look around you to see if anybody could see you.

“You did so well,” he mumbled into your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

“Thank you,” you smiled, the tickle of his breath making your shoulder lift involuntarily.

You tried to balance the cold bottle now in your hand, careful not to press it against him. Jungkook noticed, his nose crinkling as he gave your sides one last gentle squeeze before relunctantly pulling away.

As he stepped back, he blinked a few times, trying to refocus. His gaze had wandered, caught on the curve of your smile, the way it always made his heart do that thing.

His eyes trailed over you, watching as you unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, your body naturally leaning toward him.

But then, you paused, frowning down at the bottle in your hand, and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned in closer.

“My water...” you pouted, turning the bottle over in your hands.

"Huh? What about it?” Jungkook’s hands shot out to inspect the bottle. He had just taken a sip earlier, and it was fine?

“There’s some missing…” you said, your pout deepening.

His face fell instantly. "Oh… yeah, I had a drink. Sorry. I’ll go get you a fresh one—"

But before he could finish, your soft giggle cut through his panic, and you unscrewed the cap, taking a big gulp. You shrugged playfully. "I’m kidding, ttoki. Unless… you have cooties?"

Jungkook forced out a laugh, but it came out dry. Unlike the droplet of water that slipped past your lips and trailed slowly down the curve of your fucking neck. His gaze followed it unbiddenly as it disappeared beneath the neckline of your cropped t-shirt.

“Jeonggukkie?”

His head jerked up. "Hm?"

“I asked when you guys are going up?” you repeated gently, tilting your head in that adorable, curious way you did—like a puppy waiting for a response.

Jungkook blinked, pulling his thoughts together. “Two more acts, jjogi,” he said softly.

You nodded, satisfied, flashing him that pretty smile—the one where your eyes crinkle just slightly, your nose scrunches up, and he can see your dimple peeking through.

So pretty, he groaned inwardly. He could write a fucking song about it.

Without a word, you quickly scoped your surroundings before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. Jungkook’s fingers reacted faster than his brain, linking with yours like second nature. You tugged him forward, weaving through the bare backstage area.

For a moment, Jungkook wondered where you were taking him. To the monitors where he saw your unnies heading? To the guest section, so you could experience SHINee’s performance from the best possible view?

His mind wandered briefly, curiously.

But then again, it didn’t really matter, did it? His inner voice snarked.

He’d follow you anywhere.

“What’d ya think?” Jungkook’s voice caught you off guard, his grin wide as you yelped in surprise.

Your phone almost slipped from your hand as you spun around with wide eyes. "It was so good, ttoki," you replied, trying to catch your breath. You gave him a smile, the initial shock fading. “As always.”

Jungkook’s grin widened, very pleased by your words. As he stepped closer with his arms outstretched and ready to pull you into a hug, you took a small step back. He frowned.

“You okay, jjogi?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, holding your phone tightly in front of you. Your eyes flickered around the room, and Jungkook followed your gaze, his brows pulling together.

"What?" he asked, voice low with uncertainty.

“There's a couple people,” you murmured quietly, like it should’ve been obvious.

Jungkook blinked, his frown deepening. "They're just staff…"

Your phone buzzed, and instantly, your thumb slid to the mute button to silence it. Jungkook noticed but didn’t say anything. He just waited, watching as you slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Ttoki, we can’t, you know…” you trailed off, your head tilting to one side like you were waiting for him to understand.

But he didn’t.

“We can’t… what?” he asked, the confusion in his voice almost making you laugh.

With a soft shake of your head, you reached for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his as you started to lead him through the crowd of people backstage. He followed without hesitation, his fingers curling around yours as he kept quiet.

When you reached the double doors separating backstage from the dressing room hallway, you pushed them open, sliding through with Jungkook right behind you. His hand found yours again, fingers slipping easily into place as you walked.

“Can’t what, jjogi?” he asked again, his steps slowing as he tugged lightly at your hand.

In the distance, Jin’s windshield wiper laugh grew louder as you approached his dressing room. Jungkook’s footsteps dragged. He didn't want to get there just yet.

“Hug in public,” youclarified simply, swinging your linked hands between you.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed. "Was barely anyone back there.. And it’s just a quick hug," he said, looking down at your entwined fingers. "We hold hands in public."

“Yeah, but holding hands can be interpreted as friendly, I guess,” you shrugged, your pace slowing as Jungkook’s did, both of you nearly crawling down the hall now.

“A hug really can’t be interpreted as friendly?” he asked quietly.

“A hug can,” you nodded, glancing up at him with a cute smile. “But your hugs? Not so much.”

At that, he pouted. Like, full-on Jeon Jeongguk power-pouted.

You giggled, the sound quiet in the empty hallway, before resting your head against his arm. “Ttoki, it’s not a bad thing. I love your hugs,” you reassured him, your hand gently rubbing his bare arm. “But I don't know those staff members enough to trust them… and if we got dragged into heat over you just looking at me, I can’t imagine what a picture of us hugging would do.”

Jungkook sighed, his head dipping. “You mean you got dragged into heat, not me,” he grumbled.

You lifted your head to meet his eyes, your brows knitting together. “Stop that. You got backlash too—”

“Not like you did,” he cut in. “And it was my fault.”

You let out a soft sigh, rubbing his arm again, trying to soothe the weight he carried. “Ttoki, I don’t care what people say about us. They don’t know us. I just don’t want stupid rumors to hurt our groups, that's all.”

Jungkook’s thumb brushed across the back of your hand. “I know, jjogi,” he murmured, guilt lacing his words. “I’m so sorry.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his arm, hoping to end the topic once and for all. “You’ve apologized a hundred times, and I’ve growled you a hundred times, ttoki. It's okay. Okay?”

Jungkook’s eyes softened as you stopped in front of the bathroom door. He tilted his head, watching you curiously as you pulled away.

“I need to pee,” you explained with a grin. “I’ll meet you in the dressing room, ‘kay?”

He shook his head slightly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "I’ll wait here."

You paused, your hand resting on the doorknob, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Jeonggukkie, it’s fine,” you said with a quiet laugh. “The girls are in there too. Probably figuring out what we’re doing for dinner.”

“I know,” he replied easily. His eyes stayed fixed on yours, his stance shifting to a more comfortable position against the wall. “I’ll wait. What if you get kidnapped or something?”

“Aish,” you snorted, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. “Okay, but if someone sees you hanging around outside the girls’ bathroom like a creep…”

“Yahh,” he chuckled, jerking his head toward the door. “Just go. Hurry up.”

Your laughter lingered in his ears as you disappeared into the restroom.

A few minutes later, as you pressed the foot pedal of the trash can to toss the paper towel, you heard the faint sound of Jungkook’s voice outside the bathroom.

“Sorry, ttoki, I couldn’t hear you properly. What did you sa—” you called out as you tried to open the door, but it stopped halfway, hitting something on the other side.

“Oops, sorry!” a soft, feminine voice giggled from the other side, stepping back to let you through.

“Shit, are you okay?” you asked, quickly slipping through the gap, hands hovering near her arms in concern.

“I’m fine!” she squeaked, bowing quickly in apology.

You let out a relieved sigh and mirrored her gesture. "Are you sur—"

"Of course! I was the one in your way—" she began, her words trailing off as her eyes lit up in sudden recognition. “Wah, Jang Y/N-seonbaenim? I’m such a huge fan! I’m Lee Mijoo.”

"Wow, thank you so much,” you smiled, cupping her outstretched hand between both of yours. “Lee Mijoo… Oh woah, you’re in Lovelyz! My members and I were just listening to your performance. It was amazing.”

Her wide eyes sparkled, her voice a little breathless as she replied, “R-really? Thank you so much! Ah, they're going to freak out when I tell them about this..."

Your cheeks flushed as you laughed softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Jungkook watched the interaction, lips pressed together as he tried not to smile. You were so cute.

“Okay, I really better go, I think I’m holding up dinner…” You laughed again, giving Mijoo a final bow, which she eagerly returned. “It was nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really! Thank you so much. Have a great dinner!” Mijoo smiled brightly, and you returned it, stepping back.

As your gaze shifted to Jungkook, you noticed his eyes were already on Mijoo. She had turned back toward him, continuing their conversation as if no time had passed.

You watched, breath catching for a moment as her hand lightly brushed against his chest.

Jungkook’s ears, already tinted red from his usual shyness, deepened in color. And there it was—his stupid bunny smile. The one you knew so well. Right there on his pouty lips as he looked down at her.

A strange pang settled in your chest, sharp but soft, as if you’d swallowed something too big and it was lodged somewhere just behind your heart. You pushed it down quickly before turning quietly and heading toward the dressing room where your friends were waiting.

Behind you, Mijoo’s soft giggles lingered in the hallway, the sound trailing after you like a taunting echo.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself bundled up in the jacket Taehyung had handed you when he noticed your thin coat not doing much to stop your shivering. You sat quietly on a stool while Nari stood behind you, her fingers gently combing through your hair.

"You alright, honey?" she asked softly, her hands sliding from your hair to rest on your shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

“Hm?" You blinked, snapping out of the daze you had drifted into, your gaze distant. Adjusting the coat draped around your shoulders, you looked up at her. "Yeah, I’m okay, unnie."

Nari nodded, though not fully convinced. She knew you well enough to recognize when something was off. Still, she didn’t press, trusting that if you needed her, you’d speak up. "You hungry?" she asked, her tone gentle.

“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning back into her embrace as her arms wrapped around you. “Are we going to eat now?”

“We’re supposed to be,” Taehyung grumbled from where he sat next to Jimin on the couch, his eyes flicking up from his phone. "We’re just waiting for Jeonggukkie. Where is he, Y/N-ssi? Thought he was with you?"

Before you could answer, the door swung open, and in walked the man of the hour—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly hooded. You swallowed down the bitter taste creeping up your throat.

A collective groan of satisfaction rippled through the room as Jungkook stepped inside, flashing an apologetic smile while dodging playful shoves from his hyungs. His gaze swept over the room, eyes settling on you almost instantly.

"Alright, let’s go," Namjoon called, standing to gather his things. The others followed suit, moving to grab their clothes and bags.

You stayed quiet, watching as Jungkook navigated around Namjoon and started heading your way. Quickly slipping your arms into the sleeves of Taehyung’s jacket, you adjusted it so it wasn’t hanging loosely on your shoulders before turning to Nari. “Unnie, can we go, please?”

Nari’s brows knitted slightly at the urgency in your voice, but she nodded, grabbing her purse and coat before holding out her hand to you. You snatched your phone off the bench, linking your arm with hers, practically hugging her side as she gently ushered your other members to grab their things.

Jiyoung and Eunji moved like fucking snails, lazily climbing off the loveseat, and it took every ounce of restraint not to stomp your foot in frustration. You could feel Jungkook’s presence drawing closer, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you, tightening like an invisible net.

Nari felt the change in your posture.She glanced down at your face, then over your shoulder, her gaze landing on Jungkook as he approached. She looked back and forth between the two of you, then at Jiyoung and Eunji who were still taking their sweet time. With a quiet sigh, she let go of your arm.

Your eyes snapped to hers in panic. You opened your mouth to protest, but the firm look she gave you stopped you in your tracks, making your lips press together in a pout. She stepped away, and your shoulders sagged in defeat. You didn’t have much of a choice anymore—you’d have to talk to him.

You didn’t really have a reason to avoid Jungkook. Nothing you could explain out loud, at least. You just… didn’t feel like it right now.

But when you turned, bracing yourself to face him, relief flooded through you at the sight of Nari intercepting his path.

You exhaled, grabbing the arms of your other two members—who had finally gathered their things—ignoring their teasing laughs as you dragged them out of the dressing room.

“Hey, Jungkook-ssi,” Nari greeted, offering the younger boy a warm smile as he slowed to a stop.

“Hi, noona—oh, Y/N-yah, hey, wait—” Jungkook’s voice trailed off as he watched you hurriedly slip out of the room with Eunji and Jiyoung, leaving only him and your leader behind. “Ah, she must not have heard you,” Nari said with a soft sigh, patting his back as she gently steered him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go have some dinner.”

You had only just stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind you as the door clicked shut.

The scent of spices from the kitchen floated down the hallway, mixing with the lingering warmth of your shower. You hugged the towel you’d used on your hair to your chest, eyes half-lidded with the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

Just as you began to head for your dorm, footsteps echoed behind you, drawing your attention. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jungkook walking toward you, his smile soft, eyes raking over you familiar way he does. Your hair was still damp, falling over your shoulders, and the t-shirt and sweatpants you were wearing clung comfortably to your skin.

"Hi," he greeted, his voice low, still warm from the kitchen heat. He gave you a once-over, smile widening at the sight of you looking so cozy. "Dinner’s almost ready. Couch or floor?"

Your head tilted as you thought. It was always one or the other, the two of you eating dinner together with the group, perched either on the couch or sitting cross-legged on the floor.

But the image of him asking Lee Mijoo that same question nagged at the back of your mind, a thought you shoved down before it could fester.

"Couch," you answered quietly.

Jungkook nodded, about to turn back toward the living room when he noticed it. Something about the way you stood, or maybe it was your shoulders… they were just a little off. Not something most people would pick up on, but then again, most people weren’t irrevocably in love with you.

"You alright, jjogi?" he asked, voice softer now.

"Uh-huh," you replied with a small smile, turning away before he could ask anything else. "I’ll be out in a sec."

"O—" Jungkook started, but the door to your dorm clicked shut before he could finish. He stood there for a second longer, staring at the closed door, muttering the rest to himself. "-kay."

A few minutes later, Jungkook was back in the living room, adjusting the cushions on the couch when he heard footsteps approaching. "Move, hyung," he grumbled at Jimin, nudging him sharply to get him to scoot over to the left side of the couch instead of sitting smack-bang in the middle.

"Yah!" Jimin laughed, swatting at him. "You’re not the only one who wants to sit next to Y/N-ssi, you know—"

"Shut up," Jungkook shot back, easily overpowering him and forcing him to slide over.

Jungkook planted himself stubbornly in the middle with a huff. He had planned on giving you the middle seat, letting Jimin sit next to you too. But now, Jimin gets nothing.

"Aish, you little—" Jimin shook his head, laughing, just as you wandered into the room.

You had socks and a little zip-up jacket on now, and Jungkook's eyes immediately flicked to the air conditioning meter on the wall. It's warm already.

Maybe you're getting sick, he thought. Ah, that must be why you seemed a little off earlier.

The long coffee table was covered in a spread of food, and your stomach growled in response as you flopped down next to Jungkook. His arm immediately reached out, grabbing an empty bowl and glancing back at you. He pointed at the pot of kimchi-jjigae, a silent question on his lips. It was your favorite, and he already knew you’d want it, but he asked anyway.

You nodded with a small smile, pulling your legs up and crossing them beneath you. Your sock-covered foot pressed against his thigh while his gaze lingered for a second, eyes flickering over your face before he nodded. Turning back to the table, he scooped some rice into the bowl, then topped it with the steaming stew. He grabbed a spoon and handed the bowl to you, careful not to let it spill.

"Thank you," you murmured, giving him a quiet smile before mouthing, 'ttoki'.

Jungkook bit back a laugh, knowing you only whispered it because his brothers loved teasing him whenever you called him that in front of them. He didn’t care. He’d told you that a thousand times, but you still didn't want them to tease him.

Jungkook leaned forward to grab his own bowl when Jimin poked his arm. "Jeonggukkie, can you dish me a bowl too, please?"

"Do it yourself," Jungkook grumbled, scooping his own portion of stew.

"Ttoki!" you gasped in shock, laughing as you nudged him with your foot. "Don’t be rude."

"Yeah, ttoki," Taehyung chimed in from his spot on the floor, snickering with Jiyoung as they dug into their food. "Don’t be rude."

Jungkook’s eyes went wide as he looked at you, and you just tilted your head innocently. He sighed, lips pulling to the side in a begrudging frown as he scooped some of the stew into a bowl for Jimin. He grabbed a spoon and clanked it into the bowl a little aggressively before thrusting it toward Jimin.

"Thank you, ttoki," Jimin cooed, accepting the bowl with a sickeningly sweet smile. "And be a darling bunny and pass me a couple of dumpl—"

You placed your hand on Jungkook’s arm, holding him back just as he lunged at Jimin, ready to tackle him into the back of the couch.

Dinner was amazing.

You only had one bowl, and though you could've easily finished another, maybe two, you stopped yourself. Practice was early tomorrow, and you knew better than to overeat and feel sick or sluggish. Jungkook, however, kept trying to slip you dumplings or a bread roll whenever he saw the empty bowl in your lap.

You just shook your head, smiling, settling deeper into the couch. He wasn’t thrilled, but when you rested your head on his arm, he relaxed a bit, quietly going back to his second serving.

Now, the cold night air nipped at your neck, sharp against your skin as you sat against the rough brick wall outside the building. The gravel dug into your sweatpants, uncomfortable but not unbearable. You adjusted the phone in your hand as your mother’s concerned voice filled the quiet night.

“Have you been eating well?” she asked, her tone halfway between worried and accusatory. “You’re looking a bit thin, gongju.”

You smiled softly, tilting your head as you rested your chin on your knees. “Yes, eomma. I just had a nice dinner,” you reassured her. “I had the flu, remember? Took a while to get back to normal, but I’m fine now.”

Your mom sighed, the sound crackling through the video call. “Mm. I’ll send some extra choco pies in my next package, just in case—”

“Don’t, please,” you laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I can’t eat those right now, eomma. I’m—”

But your words were cut off by the rise of her familiar Daegu accent, sharp with concern. She launched into a tirade about “dangerous diets” and “ending up in the hospital.”

You winced, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you cut in, “It’s not a bad diet, eomma. It’s a healthy one. I’m just taking better care of myself… something I haven’t done in a while." You laughed lightly, your gaze dropping to the gravel at your feet.

Her sigh came softer this time, a little more accepting. "Well, I'm glad to hear that." A pause lingered between you, then her voice softened again. "You look happy, my gongju. You’re so beautiful when you’re happy."

“Thanks, eomma,” you murmured, your smile widening. "I am happy." You nodded before adding, "You look good too. I like your haircut."

Your mother’s hand automatically went to her hair, fingers combing through the strands of her shoulder-length bob. “Ah, yes. My friend Dong-wook did it, free of charge,” she said with a sly smile. “You remember him, right? The hair stylist I told you about?”

“Mmhm," you hummed knowingly, teasing. “Free of charge, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes. "Don’t start that, Y/N,” she scolded lightly, but you could see her lips curving into a playful smile. “Men and women can be just friends.” 

You blinked, holding back the laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Right.”

She gave you a pointed look before finally breaking into a full smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Isn’t that right, gongju?”

“Eomma,” you warned, shifting your position against the wall.

Your mom was one of the few people you trusted with everything. One of the few who had always supported your dreams, no matter how crazy or far-fetched they seemed. But in moments like this, you almost regretted how much she knew.

“I’m just saying,” she pressed on, “I’m not getting any younger, gongju… and I want to see you happy. With someone who cares about yo—”   “Eomma,” you interrupted, laughing softly, “You’re only forty-three. And I’m nineteen. I have plenty of time for all of that...”   “You do,” she agreed, her voice dipping into a knowing hum. “But why wait when you have everything you need right in front of you?”

You let out a short, exasperated laugh. “Subject change, please,” you muttered, trying to steer the conversation in a safer direction. 

But your mom wasn’t done. “Ah, you’re so focused on your career, darling, and that’s good! But don’t forget that you can still enjoy life… and love.” She gave you that endearing look, the one that made you feel like a child all over again. “You can have both.”

You sighed with a chuckle, resting your chin on your knees again. “Eomma, shouldn’t you be telling me to focus on my career? Not to do drugs or run around chasing boys?” 

She laughed, a warm, rich sound that made your chest ache with homesickness. “Ah, gongju. First of all, I know you’d never do drugs. You’re too much of a gongju for that.” You gasped in mock offense, but she just chuckled. “And as for boys… Honey, you just have to stand in place. He’s the one doing all the running.”

“Eomma,” you groaned, pressing your head against your knees as her sweet laugh echoed through the phone.

“Well, am I wrong?” she teased, and you could practically see the arch of her brow. “He looks at you like you hung every star in the sky. It’s just so adorab—” 

“Stop it,” you whined, hiding your face further. “Guys and girls can be just friends, okay? Just like you and Dong-wook.” 

“Ahhh, I see. Well, if you and Jeongguk-ssi are those kinds of friends,” she said with a mischievous lilt, “then I have nothing to worry about.” 

“Eomma!” You nearly screamed, a hand flying to your face. “Please, I just ate. Don’t make me throw it all up.”

Her laughter bubbled up again, and despite your frustration, you found yourself smiling. “Okay, okay, gongju. I’ll stop.” A brief pause followed before her eyes shifted. “Oh, Jeongguk-ah! Hello, sweetie! How are you?” 

Peeking around the corner of the wall, you saw Jungkook approaching, hands tucked into his pockets, his bunny smile lighting up as soon as he saw your mom.

“Hi, eomma,” he waved, plopping down next to you. You scooted over, making room for him as he took the phone from your hands. “I’m well, and you? Wah, I love your haircut.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as your arm linked through his, letting their conversation wash over you. The warmth of his hoodie against your cheek and the gentle rumble of his voice made your eyelids feel heavier. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. 

As your breathing slowed, Jungkook’s voice grew quieter, the volume on your phone clicking down softly three times. You didn’t notice him reach over to pull the zipper of your jacket up properly. But your mom did.

“One second, eomma,” Jungkook said, his voice soft as he turned the phone away. The faint sound of the zipper echoed before he brought the phone back. “Sorry about that. So, what did Minho-hyung do next?” 

Your mom smiled, her eyes catching the sight of your peaceful face, now bundled up against Jungkook’s side, your cheek pressed to his arm as you slept.

“Ah, yes, where was I?” she murmured, a fond smile on her lips as she continued her story. 

Mothers know best.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the living room as Toy Story 2 played its final scenes.

The house had long since quieted—everyone else had already gone to bed after the first movie. But you and Jungkook remained, curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over your legs.

It was late. You had practice at 9am, and Jungkook had a full day of promotions ahead, but neither of you moved. 

As the credits began to roll, Jungkook shifted beside you, his voice low and thick with sleep. “Wanna watch the third one?”

You glanced up at him, taking in the way his eyelids drooped, the way his head barely held itself up. “Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked softly.

He nodded, but the movement was languid. “A little..” he mumbled, though even he knew the truth was written all over his face.

Jungkook had been up since 5am, and his exhaustion was obvious, but there was no way he was going to be the one to end the night. Not when he was here, wrapped up in a cozy fucking blanket with you, watching one of his favorite movies.

“Last one,” he added, more to himself than to you, as if convincing his body to stay awake just a little longer.

You smiled softly, nodding as he stood up, gathering the empty popcorn bowl. He stretched, a yawn slipping from his lips before he bent to grab your water bottle from the coffee table. He gave it a small shake, noticing it was nearly empty, and tucked it under his arm. “Be back in a sec,” he murmured, his steps slow as he disappeared into the kitchen.

You watched him go, warmth filling your chest as you reached for the remote. You began typing Toy Story 3 into the search bar when Jungkook’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Your fingers hesitated over the remote for a split second, your eyes drifting to the lit-up screen. You quickly shook off the urge to look, refocusing on the TV as you continued your search. The letters appeared slowly on the screen, but the phone buzzed again, pulling your attention back.

You tried to ignore it. Really… you did. You forced yourself to focus on the title in front of you, but it wasn't long until another buzz echoed through the room.

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Alright, Mr. Popular, you thought, lips curving in a humourless smile as you clicked on the movie, pausing it while it loaded to wait for Jungkook.

The quiet around you felt heavier than it should’ve. The only sounds were the soft hum of the microwave and the trickle of water from the kitchen as Jungkook filled your bottle. Your eyes flicked to his phone again, resting innocently on the table.

You didn’t know why you did it.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was something else. But your hand moved of its own accord, fingertips brushing the screen and watching as it lit up.

His notifications flashed before your eyes—Instagram, Clash of Clans, (1) text from Eomma, (3) text from Unknown.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were already typing in his passcode.

Unknown [11:48 PM] hey jungkook! sorry i hope this doesn't wake youㅋㅋ [11:48 PM] it's me, lee mijoo!! [11:49 PM] just let me know when you wanted to meet up :) 💖

A rush of heat spread through your chest, your fingers freezing over the screen before you scrambled to lock the phone. Your breath was shaky as you placed it back on the table, the blanket that had been so warm moments ago now felt suffocating, too heavy, too much.

You tried to steady your thoughts, shifting uncomfortably on the couch as you heard Jungkook returning. He plopped down beside you with a soft grunt, his arm brushing yours as he held out the water bottle. “Did you want some?”

You just shook your head, unable to find your voice. Jungkook gave a small nod, setting the bottle on the table as he checked his phone briefly.

You watched out of the corner of your eye, your stomach twisting as his thumb hovered over the notifications. He swiped through them casually, not even bothering to read the messages before setting the phone back down, oblivious.

Jungkook settled back into the couch, adjusting the popcorn bowl on his lap as he reached out to wrap an arm around your shoulders like he always did. But this time, you leaned forward quickly, grabbing the remote before he could touch you. His arm hovered for a second, confused, before dropping limply to his side.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he waited, watching as you pressed play on the movie. When you leaned back, his arm instinctively moved again, grazing your shoulder, but you shifted once more, pulling away.

This time, he knew it wasn’t an accident.

“Jjogi?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded, lips pressed tightly together, your gaze fixed on the screen. “Yeah,” you murmured, watching as Woody chased after One-Eyed Betty.

Jungkook frowned, concern etched into his features. His stomach knotted as he shoved a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that you were upset. That he had done something.

So he set the bowl on the coffee table, turning toward you. “Are you too tired? We don’t have to keep watching if you want to sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” you replied, your tone clipped.

You weren’t lying—you didn’t feel tired anymore. But you weren’t exactly sure what you felt, either. All you knew was that you didn’t like it.

“Did I…do something?” he asked hesitantly, his heart sinking as he searched your face.

“No.” The word came out flat, your eyes never leaving the screen.

“Are you hungry? I could—”

“God, Jeongguk, would you just stop?” you snapped, cutting him off. “I said I’m fine. Just watch the movie.”

He flinched, swallowing hard at the sharpness in your voice.

Jeongguk? You were pissed.

But he had no idea why.

“Jjogi—” he started again, but before he could finish, you tossed the blanket off your legs and stood up abruptly. His eyes widened as he watched you stomp away.

In your haste, your leg hit the edge of the coffee table, knocking your water bottle over and sending his phone tumbling to the floor. Jungkook leaned forward immediately, grabbing the bottle and standing it upright before scooping up his phone.

“Jjogi,” he called softly, trailing after you as you walked toward your room.

“Just go away, Jeongguk,” you muttered, your voice low and tired.

“Please, jjogi,” he pleaded, his steps quickening to catch up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you sighed, still walking. “I just want to be alone.”

“All of a sudden?” His frown deepened, frustration creeping into his voice. “Please, just talk to me.”

You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. "Why don’t you just go talk to Mijoo?"

Jungkook froze, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "Mijoo?" he echoed, the name foreign on his lips, as though he had to drag it out of the depths of his mind. "What… what are you talking about?"

Mijoo? Lee Mijoo? The conversation they’d had with her earlier replayed in his mind, but nothing about it stood out. Had she said something to upset you? No way. He would’ve noticed.

“Okay, I really better go. I think I’m holding up dinner…” you’d said with a light laugh as you tried to make your exit. Jungkook had nodded absentmindedly, his stomach grumbling as he prepared to part ways with Mijoo and follow you. “It was so nice to meet you, and I’m sorry again. I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, really, thank you so much. Have a good dinner!” Mijoo had smiled, her face bright and friendly.

Jungkook had smiled politely in return, already about to bow and follow after you, when Mijoo’s hand brushed lightly against him. “Wow, so you’re really a ‘97-liner? Gah, so talented…”

He’d felt the heat creeping up his neck, a blush rising as he shook his head. “Ahh, thank you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you turning to leave, your figure retreating down the hall and disappearing into the doorway of the dressing room without so much as a glance back at him. His heart sank.

“Ah, I better—” he’d started, ready to go after you.

But Mijoo’s soft, hopeful voice interrupted him. “Would it be too forward of me to ask for your number? I really enjoyed talking to you, and would love to do it again sometime? Maybe we could…”

Jungkook didn't hear the rest of her words, his eyes darting back toward the now-empty hallway where you had disappeared. A dull ache settled in his chest.

He barely registered Mijoo’s outstretched phone, his hand moving automatically to take it. He forced a smile, fingers trembling slightly as he typed his number into the device. But his heart wasn’t in it.

Obviously, his subconscious mocked. Because it belongs to her.

i’ll reblog with my taglist tmrw, i’m about to get taken by the sleepy police..😞 love youu 💗💤

MOTHERFUCKIN’ TRAIN WRECK! ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you were my boyfriend… and you were my girlfriend…

when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: fuckboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: fwb au

warnings: small smutty moments (cunnilingus, fingering, tiny boob play), angst, fluffi maybe idk, whipped and jelly koo, ft. namjoon!!!, oblivious oc, deep down she feels it too but jk is simply too much of a simp so it doesn’t look like it at first, he’s also so petty and sassy, jokes about ending it if oc doesn’t give him a chance </3, he’s just a little shit, peep the lyrics from boyfriend hehe, oh btw happy ending!!!

word count: 18k

a/n: wowww i’m so sorry for this pile of nonsense, it’s so bad i vomited a little in my mouth. i hate every single thing about it but i didn’t wanna leave you guys starved. i love u sm and thank u for the support, but u’re allowed to leave hate asks for what u’re about to read rn ❤️ also i’m SO SORRY for being unable to write a jungkook who isn’t a simp

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive

────୨ৎ────

Jeongguk was only supposed to clean you up. That’s what he calls it when his angelic face finds its place between your spread legs, sinful eyes locking with yours, paired with a smirk you can hardly ever survive.

After all, he’s a man of simple devices. Why bother fetching a towel when he can use his own mouth? When he can let his tongue lap at your juices, slurp every last trace, have an excuse to taste you again, and again, and again?

It’s barely even effective as a way to clean you up, of drying the slick mess that sticks to your inner thighs from cumming three times under his merciless doings— you both know that. Then, how does he expect you not to break a fourth when he runs his wet muscle so torturously along your slit, getting ever more soaked?

Jeongguk is not really trying to end the night. He’s drawing it out. He already had you unraveling in phases— first on his fingers, then all over his cupid lips, ending with you convulsating just another time around his thick length.

It was rough, left purplish marks of his harsh hold digging into your sides, a faint trace of a forbidden hickey just under your collarbones, where you can easily hide it.

In all fairness, he couldn’t help it.

It was you who provoked him. You always do, getting under his skin, teasing him about his skills, downgrading them with playful indifference and nothing more than a meh, as Jeongguk rasps in your ear, clearly affected by your session of foreplay when asking, “Does this make you feel good?”

You’ll be sent straight to hell for lying like that, with seemingly no remorse, but you’re unable to resist the dangerous game and the familiar thrill that comes from it. Nothing compares to the dark wave that takes over his hooded eyes, his motions ever more intentional, almost overwhelming.

He moves to prove something to you, to show you there’s no one quite like him, even with all the guys in your phone, on your lips, inside your sheets.

Jeongguk is your fuckbuddy, and your friend on top of the rest. So, when he first laid his lips on yours, the bottom line plumper than his cupid’s bow, it had taken a great amount of alcohol to flow through both of your veins and blur the lines, let instinct take over.

From there, it was like you couldn’t help yourselves; the physical attraction was undeniable, it’s what brought you here in between the mess of his bed. If you ignore the silly crush you had on him during the first year of college, this was perfect.

Your fuckbuddy contract (Jeongguk hates calling you that, he prefers my friend who makes me cum a lot) includes a heavy emphasis on a no-strings-attached relationship, that can be interrupted whenever one of the two feels uncomfortable, and that should not come before your friendship. On top of all, you both are not exclusive. No commitment, no jealousy. You’re perfectly free of meeting other people, fucking other people. Unless you’re going to date one of those, of course. Then, bye-bye friend who makes me cum a lot.

These rules were established almost a year ago, after your hands couldn’t help themselves from roaming hastily all over his body, pulling him impossibly closer. It was the second time you allowed yourself to feel him, following the night when he initiated things under the clouded lights of a club.

You couldn’t help it. You had been thinking of that moment for weeks now, and when you were left alone with him in his dorm room, pulse racing, it’s all your thoughts were reduced to. Kiss him, kiss him, fuck him.

You felt guilty. A friend shouldn’t be thinking of another friend like you were about Jeongguk. Especially after you promised yourself you wouldn’t let your buried crush resurface and ruin what you had built— even if the memory of that infatuation is honestly just laughable now (you would never think of dating him, pft).

But Jeongguk, ever the gentlest when it comes to you, assured you it was okay to feel as you did, because he felt it too. And was dying to touch you again. His words, not yours.

It’s only sexual. A casual, sexual relationship. Two friends who happen to find each other irresistible.

So when he reacts with a flash of competitiveness at the mere suggestion he might not be the best you’ve ever had, it’s… weird, the feeling that overcomes you. You acknowledge it for a split second, as if you’re searching to name that something inside you stirring, but before you can, it seems to make you fall apart immediately, your grip tighter, back arched, moans high-pitched.

He basks in his silent victory, in the factual demonstration that he in fact can’t be compared to all your other guys.

Except, there’s actually no other guys.

Back when this friends-with-benefits arrangement first started, you were occasionally fooling around with an older guy from campus named Mingyu. Jeongguk knew him, given that they’re in the same photography class. He was also aware of your casual fling with him. And yet, Jeongguk still kissed you. Actually, did so much more than just that.

Either way, the line has always been clear: he has no right to question who you spend time with and what you engage in, Jeongguk isn’t a saint either.

You love him, you truly do. With time, he has become one of your closest friends, and you honestly can’t see yourself getting through college without him.

But there’s no denying the fuckboy allegations, the ones that are constantly thrown at him all around campus. He is a fuckboy. It must be his easy charm, flirting as natural as breathing, tripping out his tongue with seemingly not much thought. At some point, the majority of the girls in your campus got to have their moment with Jeongguk, either because of mindless teasing or one night stands, occasionally turning into casual arrangements.

You have accepted it as part of who he is. You know his fuckboy habits haven’t magically changed when you two started fucking. He doesn’t really spend much time talking about it with you, occasionally mentioning his doings every now and then, but you don’t need to know; his friends and the people whispering in hallways and lecture halls fill in the blanks.

That is exactly why you’ve let Jeongguk believe that your sexual life is equally as busy, floods of boys from your inbox to your sheets, as if you aren’t too much of a hopeless romantic to even think of anything that isn’t exclusively monogamous.

But this isn’t the case. Jeongguk isn’t yours, you aren’t his. It’s just about sex, and you’ve accepted that. You don’t want anything more from him. You tell yourself the only reason you’re not seeing anyone else is that the idea of it makes you uneasy. That you’re more than satisfied with Jeongguk being your friend-turned-into-fuckbuddy, and you don’t need other ones.

Jeongguk is more than enough. Oh, he is.

“Fuck, Gguk. You’re gonna make me cum— Ah, shit— again.”

Your head is thrown back in his pillow, legs weakly tightening around his head nestled so close to your core, and it’s clear his goal has completely shifted from getting you clean and neat when the tip of his tongue moves to flicker on your sensitive nub, relentlessly abusing it with casual kissing and sucking.

He opens his mouth to take more of you, his wet muscle tracing your slit and teasing your entrance for— sadly —the shortest second, and the way he hums approvingly against you brings you even closer to the breaking point.

You’re a fragile mess, overstimulated from the previous orgasms but desperate to chase yet another climax, his hands roaming up to find your breast only spurring you further.

Jeongguk knows you by now, and is aware of all the subtle gestures that make you come undone under him. He knows just what to do to push you over the edge, and when to do it exactly.

You’re a sucker for dirty talk and praise, and occasionally, when the ideal situation comes, you love being degraded. It’s a side of you that only ever arises during sex, mind hazed and irrational, the delirious need for release clouding all your usually composed senses.

At first, he teased you for it. Not because he’s not as much of a fan as you are of talking during sex, but because he never pictured you to be the loud type. And you truly are.

Jeongguk pinches your nipples in hopes of you getting the message and lowering your volume, but it only makes you whine higher, your moans surely not going unnoticed by the other students in the dorm.

It can only be worse when he decides to speak against you, his voice a low, almost unintelligible growl, “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good. All mine, fuck. Want to taste your cum once again, c’mon babe. Give it to me.”

And you, always obliging and well-behaved, let go for a fourth time, hips furiously rutting against his face, his words making your surroundings spin, the way his nose would brush your sensitive nub having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your gasp is strained when he retreats with one last wet stripe between your puffy lips, sealing the orgasm with a kiss on your clit, and when he finds your face again there’s a cockish grin spreading across his, chin coated with your juices.

He immediately meets your mouth then, sharing your own taste, and you both moan shamelessly at the action.

Jeongguk collapses next to you, his body warm and relaxed, pulling you closer by your waist and almost making you straddle him with the force of his hold. He sighs into your hair, kissing the root of it, “You did amazing for me, pretty girl.”

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine at the praise and the pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. It’s ridiculous.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, you glance up at him through your lashes and a lazy smile threatens to take over your face, but your playful pout is more prominent, almost convincing, “I’m never letting you do that trick on me again. Next time, I’m just going to take a shower like a normal person.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unguarded, his chest rumbling under your ear, and it makes you pull away with a mock glare, brows knitted together as you swat at his toned stomach, “Don’t laugh. I hated that.”

His dark eyes soften as they dance with amusement, the corners crinkling, and he hums, going along with your blatant lie from the way your lips struggle to contain a grin, “Oh, absolutely. You were screaming in horror, couldn’t stand it.”

“Whatever,” you mutter incoherently, standing up to escape from the inevitable loss. The slick between your thighs reminds you of why you need that shower in the first place, causing you to awkwardly wobble your way to his bathroom.

Jeongguk watches you with a lopsided smirk, stretched out on the bed, his brown hair a messy halo on the pillow, and it completes the concept he goes perfectly with, the one of a devil dressed up as an angel, even more when his voice drips with faux desperation, “Hey, come back. I need my cuddles.”

“You’ll live,” you toss back before pulling the door shut behind you and stepping into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water stings at first, then soothes you, sliding down your skin.

Jeongguk already knows the outcome of what he’s about to do isn’t going to turn in his favor, but he tries his luck regardless, standing up hastily and limply making his way to his bathroom door.

He only knocks twice, then puts on his best begging voice, talking loud enough to be heard over the shower, “Toots?”

“No!”

A scoff filters through the steamy air, followed by the unmistakable creak of the door handle as he steps inside. He’s relentless, voices his thoughts with the kind of logic only he would find convincing, “C’mon, we’ll save water!”

You stand with your back to him, his body wash traveling down your skin in soap bubbles, the scent filling the air, and you let your shoulders shrug. You don’t turn around. Number one, because you’ll give in. Number two, because you can hear the pout on his lips, and that’s the reason for number one.

You try your best to sound annoyed, “Jeongguk, just leave. You don’t even pay for it.”

“Our poor earth pays for it,” he quips, stepping further into the cramped space, body still bare, and that’s maybe a number three for you, “Because you wanna be so unfair to your best friend and leave him out in the cold.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

His gasp is dramatic, you even hear it echo through the tiny room, and you fight hard to contain the giggle locked inside you, but it escapes in the shape of a snort, which you quickly try to conceal by clearing your throat. You even further go with the lie, “You heard me.”

“Unbelievable. I’m kicking you out the second you’re done here,” he tries his best menacing tone, the threat barely harsh and effective, closing the door behind his back with an exaggerated thump, followed by unintelligible grumbling.

You take your sweet time in his now steamy bathroom. You shampoo twice, deliberately squeezing out a generous amount of his own fancy product in your palm, making sure the squeak of the bottle is heard through the door so he knows you’re helping yourself. His high-quality hair dryer blasts warm air over your damp hair until it’s only mildly wet. And you even rummage around his cabinet, indulging in his collection of expensive skincare creams. These little luxuries are exactly why you never pass a single occasion to shower over at his dorm room.

And the second you’re done in there, he doesn’t kick you out like he threatened. It takes a moment for him to move his attention from his phone to your figure, wrapped around in his fluffy robe, and he doesn’t even try to keep up the menacing act. Still spread on his ruined bed, his furrowed brows relax, and his lips break into a grin. He scans your face, then giggles, “You’ve got a massive pimple on your forehead.”

“Fuck you. I’m taking one of your hoodies.”

“It’s called borrowing,” even in the midst of checking out your freshly-washed naked body, now being stripped from his bathrobe, he’s still committed to the game of banter you two always play.

“It’s not if I’m not giving it back,” you counter, voice muffled by the fabric of one of his many black sweatshirts you’re already pulling over your head, quickly shuffling into your jeans, helping them up with some small hops that make him grin.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your comeback, too used to losing his own clothes to your closet; rather, he watches you move with what seems like hurry around his dimly lit room. He shifts higher, letting the sheets slip to reveal his still bare, and slightly sweaty torso, “Wanna hang out together at the party tomorrow?”

”Hmm, I’ll just see you there,” you don’t pay him much attention, using your phone camera as a mirror to wipe away any smudged mascara under your eyes. “I’ve already got a partner, actually.”

Jeongguk fully sits up now, vision a little blurry from the hasty and sudden movement, phone forgotten, “A partner?”

The way you casually let a smile tug at your lips while talking about a man is new, “Yeah. A guy from my English class asked me to go with him. He’s pretty cute.”

You’re too busy shoving your belongings in your bag and mentally cataloging every single item to notice the expression your best friend is currently sporting, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. Tank top, makeup, laptop… where the fuck is— oh, here. Lip balm. What else?

Jeongguk thinks you’re forgetting something deathly important. A fucking explanation, maybe? He’s known you to occasionally fool around with random guys, but he thought it was just that. Occasional and random. When did it get to having a partner? That sounds silly. Or maybe a little too formal, a little too real. What the fuck does having a partner even entail?

You’re blissfully unaware of the stubborn storm taking over Jeongguk’s thoughts, especially because you’re not exactly sparing him a second glance, moving with single-minded focus, hurrying to leave. Because apparently it’s so bad to want to spend the night with your best friend. Share a bed, watch a movie, talk gossip (it’s been so long since you’ve updated him the way only you can about the latest campus stories, ugh). Amazing, yes, that’s totally fine with Jeongguk.

And he does manage to sound unbothered, “What’s his name?”

“Namjoon.”

Jeongguk focuses on your slim fingers slipping your lip balm into the front pocket of your bag, syllabes leaving his lips in a slow mumble, “Ah, Namjoon. I know him. I guess.”

Fucking Kim Namjoon. Of course he knows him. 6 feet tall, polite, model student Kim Namjoon. Shit. Great choice. No, really, he’s the perfect catch.

“Hm? Well, I think he’s very nice. And hot as fuck.”

He grimaces, “Gross.”

“You’re one to talk,” pulling the hood over your head, you finally meet his eyes. You’re completely oblivious to the thoughts gnawing at him, so you think his disappointment is only caused by your next words, “I should get going now.”

“What? You’re not staying over for dinner?” The way he looks up at you with doe, puppy-dog eyes almost makes you trip on your own resolution, but you only ruffle his hair from your stance next to his bed, hoping the small action is enough to satisfy your hunger. Not for dinner.

“Nah, sorry Gguk. Gotta get up early for English class.”

He scoffs, moving stubbornly from your soothing touch, “Sure. English class with Joohyuk.”

“…Namjoon.”

“Right, that’s what I said. Namsun.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-laughing, “No, it’s Namjoon.”

“Namgi.”

“Namjoon.”

“Whatever, don’t care.” The words have barely any space to roll out through his pout, and along with his petty little slip-ups it’s the most childish act you’ve seen him pull so far. To be completely honest, he seems to break a new record every other day.

You fight the urge to roll your gaze at the ceiling, finding it impossible to deal with pouty, hungry and cuddle-starved Jeongguk. You sigh, muttering, “Insufferable.”

“Give me a kiss, brat.”

The teasing comes so naturally that for a second you don’t ponder on the demand being something a normal friend wouldn’t exactly ask. But it isn’t one you’ll deny.

You bend down to meet him as easily as he let the request out, muttering a playful Oh, I’m the brat now? before brushing his pushed lips with yours in a sweet, short kiss, enough to draw a soft sigh from both of you. You hum against it, voice warm with something that contradicts your words entirely, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Sure,” rolling your eyes, you grant his cocky figure that little win, too tired to put up a fight, even if you almost rethink it when he confidently leans back against the pillows, smirking up at you. You decide to cut it short, it’s for the best, throwing your bag over your shoulder as well as one last look at him, before readying yourself for the walk of shame through his frat.

────୨ৎ────

Namjoon is, by all standards, the perfect guy. He’s genuine, smiles sweetly with his dimples showing and his eyes crinkling into crescents that make him seem both wise and youthful.

Careful, even protective over you, making sure you’re comfortable. With your drink, with your seat, with your conversation.

Almost too attentive, which should calm your nerves, but instead you feel yourself unable to fully let go. Open up to him like he’s doing with you, like you think you want to do.

You’re not sure. You can’t feel that mysterious spark everybody talks about. That spark Jeongguk admitted he’s never felt with anyone so far, no matter the number of girls he’s been with. The one he’s confessed he’s desperate to feel. The one you hope he can find.

Wait, why are you thinking about Jeongguk?

Said boy has yet to acknowledge you, standing across from you in the crowded living room of your mutual friend’s house. Each weekend, the same ritual brings you back here, whenever Taehyung’s parents head off for one of their rich-people, luxurious trips. The space is familiar, a backdrop to countless parties, all too often ending in someone’s drunken confessions and stolen kisses that’d become the talk of campus until the next party came around.

As tradition would want, with the clock ticking its way past midnight, you’d be drunk out of your mind already. Tonight, however, you’re not even sure you want to be here.

Namjoon is keeping close tabs on your drinks, monitoring each glass you reach for, and you know he means well; ordinarily, you’d find it sweet, endearing even. But it only seems to heighten your anxiety now. It just reminds you of how out of place this whole thing feels. You want to drown your awkwardness in a wave of liquid courage, and the irony isn’t lost on you: the very reason why you’re nervous is keeping you from numbing it.

Namjoon makes you way too aware of yourself. You wish your first proper hang out wasn’t at a filthy frat party, the blasting music causing you both to lean into each other to make conversation. The proximity makes your palms disgustingly clammy, and you hope he doesn’t reach for your hand.

You also think this isn’t the type of scenario that best suits Namjoon. You would have loved to be with him somewhere softer, with less noise and more light, talking over coffee instead of loud techno, his poetic speech lulling you into infatuation. Maybe then, this would have gone like you had imagined it might. Like you wanted it to go, just to prove something to yourself. You’re still not sure what exactly.

But this house — this party — is a natural habitat for people like Jeongguk. It’s a playground he navigates with ease, his charisma amplified by the darkened rooms and faint cigarette smoke that seems to follow him, just like everyone around him. They exist solely to orbit his mood.

It’s as he saunters back inside after yet another smoke break that you spot him again, his focus entirely on whatever girl is currently at his side. With Namjoon leaving to grab a drink for the two of you to share, you take the short moment to be a shameless creep and study your friend’s movements from the other side of the room.

You can’t help but feel a sting of irritation. Jeongguk is fully aware you’re here. You’d texted him earlier, just something casual to say you’d arrived, maybe even expecting him to meet you or give you a quick wave. Instead, there’d been no reply.

Just like the TikToks you’d sent last night, after you told him you wouldn’t be staying over at his, that also went ignored. You didn’t think too much of it, figured it was probably one of his petty acts. You aren’t any better: it’s not like you’ll go up to him to say hi, not after he ignored you. Those videos were funny, too. He’s the one missing out.

But now, your eyes squinted to try and get the best possible view on each detail of the scene in front of you, what you notice is nothing about him and everything about who he’s currently spending the time he could have used to acknowledge you with.

It’s not just whatever girl. It’s Haeun.

You haven’t seen them hanging out together in what feels like months, and frankly, you’re thrown. Maybe that’s also the reason why he suddenly had no time for you. You scoff.

You’re just confused, really. Jeongguk didn’t mention a thing about her, and it’s not like he’s ever kept his hookups or flings a secret. But Haeun was never just that. She was the one he seemed almost ready to get in his first serious relationship with, the one girl you thought could make him forget all about his usual habits.

When Jeongguk had first started hanging out with Haeun, he’d seemed uncharacteristically interested. You naturally found yourself rooting for him, hoping he’d take a leap and start something real after many failed attempts.

At that point, your casual arrangement with him had been going on for a while, but you knew it wasn’t built to last. You’d expected it to end sooner rather than later, and you were okay with that. You just wanted him to be happy with himself and his choices.

But on the night he was supposed to take Haeun out on a date, the one that could have changed everything, it’s like a magic vacuum turned on and sucked all his progress away. He’d shown up in front of your door instead. No explanations, no details about what had happened; he didn’t want to talk. He only wanted to be near you and sink into silence.

That night you laid next to him, his head on you, hair sprawled out on your stomach, and said absolutely nothing.

Since then, he hadn’t mentioned Haeun at all, and you’d assumed it was over. The right side of your brain was irrationally glad for that, greedily geeking at the prospect of still getting to keep Jeongguk close in ways that go over a simple friendship. In ways that have you thanking God for not taking your friend’s sex skills away from you; in ways that have your nose scrunching whenever he leaves small, delicate pecks on the side of your neck as you watch a movie cuddled in his embrace. If he had decided to go on that date, you would be denied all of this luxury.

The left side of your brain is a little less greedy, a little more rational. The half of your mind responsible for keeping some logic instilled in you even thought it could have been a good thing for Jeongguk to experience a different side of relationships.

You’ve always sensed there to be deeper reasons beneath Jeongguk’s carefree front. You’ve watched him jump from girl to girl, dip in and out of flings with seemingly no thought, as if he’s not trying to bury issues he should find a different answer for, to avoid whatever insecurities he’s run too far away from to face.

He’s never had to spell it out for you. You never pressed him on the topic either. And you think he’s grateful for it, for your silence that offers him the stability he won’t admit he needs, for simply staying and understanding. For allowing him to be vulnerable.

You wish you could give him more than that quiet comfort. Wonder if you should try your luck and push him to see that he does deserve something real— more than the distractions he uses to keep his fears at bay.

Jeongguk would make an incredible boyfriend. He always spots the small details, the slight changes in your mood, and he picks them up before you can even notice yourself, caring in a silent way that doesn't go unnoticed. Not by you.

It’s easy to imagine him being the kind of partner who’d cater to his girl’s needs effortlessly, even in quiet, even if hidden. You know he could be that person if he could just let anyone in beyond sex. When he’ll find the one, it’ll be clear it’s all he was made for.

Right now though, if anyone were to ask you that, you’d advise them to just go and look for another one, because he’s a little, lying piece of shit. You’re just a tad bit upset about it, if your crossed arms and furrowed brows are anything to go by.

You don’t understand why he’s now there, standing next to the girl he himself stood up, the one he looked ready to fix everything for, and then wasn’t. Leaning in close as if nothing had ever happened.

Why couldn’t he tell you, at least give you a heads-up if he was reconnecting with her? You know it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does, but the fact that he’s hiding it stings. Are you overthinking this?

When he lifts his head from her ear and scans the room, his eyes landing right on yours for a brief second just to look away, you don’t think you are. His attention shifts back to Haeun as if he hadn’t seen you at all. What the fuck?

You question what’s the point of having eyes to see when you are now forced to witness Jeongguk leaving the room with Haeun hanging her draggy weight on his arm, his smile cockish as he helps her up by her waist, fingers digging dangerously close to the curve of her perfectly shaped peach.

Their chemistry is undeniable, hands finding skin with unpracticed ease. It must be the way Jeongguk can effortlessly work his charm with any girl he deems attractive enough to fuck, his smirk and the way he lets his nose scrunch almost timidly, as if you can’t see right through him, making women potty in his sculpted hands.

The prospect of your best friend getting laid by the girl he was almost ready to change it all for should make you happy. Smile, at least.

Instead, you frown, mindlessly taking long sips from the straw in your glass and letting it stir your too watered-down cocktail that lacks any real flavor. You don’t even try to find answers as to how another drink landed right on the counter you rest your back on, but you’re glad for it.

You’re more upset at the fact that he decided not to tell you anything. You would have helped him through it, supported him, advised him on what to do, how to move in such a situation. But even if he didn’t need any of this, you would have appreciated just knowing. From him.

The ways in which the two of you are intertwined right at this moment don’t exactly allow him to completely leave you unaware of his actions. It’s not fair.

But then, are you even supposed to feel like this in the first place? Is only sex supposed to have this impact on you? Is even the smallest cell in his brain producing a thought that might take him back to you, and could it compare to a third of what you think and feel?

Does he not get that tingly sensation with you, ‘cause he’s used to it? ‘Cause you’re nothing too different nor special from all the choice he has laid at his feet, nothing out of the usual routine?

A gentle hand on your arm jolts you out of your thoughts. The touch is delicate, but the way it pulls you from your spiral is rough, making you stumble on the already wobbly stool you’re sitting on. When you look to your side, Namjoon meets you with a warm smile.

You hadn’t even noticed him being back next to you, and you figure that’s probably how that drink found its way in your hands. You’re a deer caught in headlights as you look at him, then down at the almost empty glass, then back at the boy. Your eyes widen impossibly more, and you struggle with finding a louder volume to your voice, almost fading with the music, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to finish this all by myself.”

You remember him saying he’d get a drink for the two of you to share before leaving you with your haunting thoughts. He just laughs in a way that should soothe your nerves, but it doesn’t, “It’s okay. You look like you needed it. I’m getting another one for me and catching up with some of my friends over there. I’ll be back in a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, totally. No problem,” your words roll out your tongue in a slurred hurry, face already turning to the opposite side of the room, and you’re not even sure what you’re agreeing on. You just feel Namjoon slip away from the seat next to yours again.

The brief interaction was enough for Jeongguk to have time to completely disappear from your strict observing, and just like the boy who should have had your undivided attention tonight, he equally slips away. From your vision, from the party. And from you. He’s with Haeun now, after all. And you’re alone.

Being truthful, Jeongguk is once again slipping away from his problems only. He doesn’t know how he ended up with Haeun by his side, but when he found your big, confused eyes in the midst of what should have been his escape for the night, he thinks he could name a few reasons.

It’s suffocating, the grip you have on him. He can almost feel one of your slim, delicate hands around his throat. He’s a dirty little sadist, of course he enjoys the pain. But he shouldn’t, so he runs from it until his back hits the wall, and the hold only gets tighter.

There’s nothing to do but face the truth. And you’re in front of him, eyes lost and inviting him to tell you. What should be easy for him to say, what he owes you. But the words get stuck in his throat, right where you’re pressing, and he feels like he might stop breathing.

He could die like this, with your narrowed orbs pitying him, and he badly wishes you would call him a coward. The hold is just enough to hurt him, not to make him lose his senses; if anything, it only makes his head spin around the one thought he wants to avoid. You.

With the quickest distraction he could get his hands on, he keeps adding to it: Haeun clinging to his side, he steps out the packed room to light the nth cigarette, the smoke clouding his vision and making the image of you fade from behind his eyelids. You release your hand from him and disappear. He almost whines. He misses you already. But the faint ache is a reminder.

Instead, in front of him is the only girl he should have truly avoided. Haeun is another reminder. Not because she looks similar to you, you’re way prettier. You’re beautiful.

No, it’s just because he remembers Haeun being his first victim, using her to bury something stronger growing inside him. But it didn’t work then, and it doesn’t work now.

She’s the only girl he tried his luck with to avoid his now unavoidable feelings for you. Then, he physically couldn’t touch another woman beside you. So he started flirting with more cigarettes and alcohol. Maybe some joints then and there.

Jeongguk would love to know why he prefers destroying himself rather than just be the confident man he lets everyone else think he is, go up to you and be honest, like you make it so easy for him to be. The fact that it almost slipped out of him more than a couple times scares him.

It shouldn’t. He wants to fall into that soothing caress, but could he even handle the possibility of you simply, and rightfully if you deemed it the correct choice, rejecting him?

The answer is no. He can’t afford losing your touch on him, your lashes fluttering when you look up at him, your fingers tracing secret maps on his back. He wonders if you’re outlining the safest ways for him to escape from the maze he himself created, of which he forgot the exit to.

With Haeun pressing herself to his side, he thinks he’d rather stay trapped there at this point. A maze built by lies, letting you believe he’s fucking other girls on the side when he feels sickened just by the thought of it, his hand now coming up to push the girl back to a safe distance. Built by insecurities, preferring having you think that you’re simply one of the many he has when he firmly believes you’re the only one that the universe has especially assigned him to.

It’s making him lose his mind, while you live unaware, free from the truth. He’s sure in the stretch that went from yesterday, when you told him about your fucking partner, and tonight, seeing you so close to said partner’s face, your dress custom-made by the hands of every angel populating heaven, Jeongguk developed some kind of clinical illness. The flame of jealousy in his toned tummy has eaten him whole.

And he feels slightly ashamed of himself knowing this is how he found himself circling back to his first poor attempt at running away from you, in the form of a short girl, her eyes now questioning him just like yours had done earlier. Haeun furrows her brows, “Are you seriously doing this again?”

Jeongguk sighs, glancing away to take a long drag from his cigarette that fills his lungs and almost aches. He avoids the eye contact that would be needed for a conversation like the one he’s forced to have — one that wouldn’t have occured in the first place if he could just be a normal person — instead he looks back to the room through the glass doors, “I’m sorry, Hae. I— I can’t do this—“

“Yo, Gguk. You need to come with me now. ___ is throwing up in the bathroom.”

It’s Taehyung sliding the glass door open with more force than what he usually puts, and right now nobody would tell he’s the same one always advising his friends to be delicate with it. The look on his face is panicked and it quickly reflects in Jeongguk’s eyes, flickering between his friend and Haeun.

Next, his reflexes are quicker. He steps inside the house, skipping past Taehyung and the flood of college students dancing their Friday away to Usher and seemingly not caring about the urgency written all over his expression.

He makes it to the bathroom where people have started to crowd around as if lining up to an unmissable show, and he doesn’t care if his pushes are too rough as he makes his way through.

You’re quite literally hugging the toilet, your face one with the lid as a few girls try and help you with your hair. The moment they see Jeongguk, it’s like they know he’s the one that you need, that he’s finally here and you’re in good hands. He shoots them a quick nod as they step aside and then, he’s immediately crouching next to you, gently gathering your long locks into his fist.

He moves some stray strands behind your ears while you keep letting it all out, and as much as his broad back is enough to hide you from watchful eyes, he can still hear murmurs from onlookers.

It’s as Jeongguk is debating whether he should cuss them out or keep his attention on you that Taehyung comes to promptly clear the crowd, closing the bathroom door behind him only after making sure his friend doesn’t need any more help.

Jeongguk appreciates the gesture, knowing how overwhelmed you can get in these scenarios with too many people around. Although, no matter how calm he appears for your sake, his heart races even as you seem to settle and sit on the tiled floor, your back resting against the cool wall.

You gulp down a few times, squeezing your eyes to try and ground yourself, the way you can feel Jeongguk’s hand hold the side of your leg, his thumb delicately brushing the inside of your thigh, definitely helping.

“Toots,” he whispers, face close to your own, “Hey, doll. You’re okay now, hm? What happened?” His voice is low, slow, almost scared of flowing past his lips.

When you open your eyes he’s directly in front of you, squatting down to stay on your level, and his brows are drawn high in worry.

You sniff, your voice still rough from the scratching on your throat, “Fucking— Jimin. I met him in the kitchen and we mixed too much shit together—“

“Weren’t you with Kim Namjoon?” Jeongguk interrupts you, both his tone and the way his eyebrows now dip inquisitive.

You shrug, looking down at your fingers fidgeting, “Dunno. Why the fuck am I still not sober,” the way you tone the question doesn’t make it sound like one, and you end up giggling at yourself, hiccuping in the process.

Jeongguk sighs, unconsciously tightening his hold around your leg, his fingers digging and making you whimper subtly. He notices, soothing the skin only to take both his hands to scoop you up by your armpits, lifting both your bodies on your feet.

You yelp, throwing your weight on him with another one of your senseless chuckles, looking up at his bothered face through your lashes. He straightens your posture with wide palms on your waist, throwing one of your arms around his shoulders and causing you to step out of the small room on your tiptoes. He grumbles, “I’m taking you back to the dorm now. And we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“Talk about what?”

“Namjoon.”

You stay quiet as the both of you, your body snug against his, walk through the party and out the house to reach Jeongguk’s car. Your thoughts are sluggish, failing to grasp why he’d even want to talk about Namjoon. Isn’t he just a nice guy? You’re more concerned with Jeongguk’s seemingly irked tone and the distressed way his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

A soft, involuntary whine escapes you when you think you might be the reason for that, shuffling yourself closer into his warmth, but the contact is brief as he gently settles you into the passenger seat and clicks the belt, then he closes your door and circles the car to the driver’s side.

Awkward. The only sound that can be heard is the soft hum of the engine, beside the fuzzy buzz in your ears. You feel laughter bubbling up in your chest but you hold it there, turning to study Jeongguk’s side profile. Inhaling, you start, “Can you— can I put on—”

“No.”

Your smile falters, “What? C’mon, give me the aux.”

“The last thing I want right now is to listen to those songs.”

Any previous tipsy instinct that made you want to laugh at the situation fade with his words and the way his grip on the steering wheel says more than what he’s letting on. You’re hazy, but his clenched jaw and laser focus on the road make you sit up straighter, adjusting your slouched posture and the skirt of your dress with it, pulling it further down your thighs.

The tension coming off him feels so heavy that it leads to irrational, childish tears pricking your eyes, and you sound defeated when you whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

He brakes a little too hard at the red light, and you both lurch slightly forward. Jeongguk seems to realize just now that he’s unfairly taking his anger out on you, and the way you let out the question in the smallest voice makes his heart speed up, turning to you with apprehension, “No, toots. No, why would I be? I’m mad at that fucker.”

“He was just talking with some of his—”

“He left you alone. He was supposed to take care of you. Not let you get fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk sounds final, his tone allowing no more condoning nor excuses for the tall guy now left behind you, back at the party. But you don’t seem to focus too much on the meaning of his words, rather you bask in the consequences of them. He’s not upset with you!

That spurs you to contradict him further, this time on the accusation he threw at you, but it’s less than credible when you say it through a sheepish smile that unconsciously made its way on your lips at the protective edge to his tone, “I’m not fucking wasted.”

Jeongguk only sighs, but you can see him visibly relax, shoulders going down and leaning against the back of his seat, right hand coming to pat your bare knee with a small smile on his pierced lips.

You share a look that fully sobers you up only to get you high all over again off his doe eyes, the artificial lights dotting a universe of their own in those orbs, undiscovered galaxies and planets inviting you to move there, even with no water, no oxygen, no way of surviving.

When the soft hue of the red light reflecting on the side of your face morphs to green, he moves his attention back on the road, taking his hand with it to shift gears. Then, he concedes, “Put on the playlist.”

You blink, a little taken aback by his sudden shift in mood, but just as quickly you recover. Your brain seems to be able to focus on one thing at a time either way, so you don’t ponder on your insides collectively moving at the way he looked at you and instead reach for the aux cord, fingers tapping on your phone screen absentmindedly, with a conscience of their own.

Music interrupts the quiet, and you can’t help but join, “The night we met I knew I, needed you so. And if I had the chance I’d, never let you go. Sing with me!”

Jeongguk breaks into a grin, no matter how much he fights it, “You’re so fucking wasted.”

“So won’t you say you love me? I’ll make you so proud of me. We’ll make ‘em turn their heads every place we go, so won’t you please,” Be My Baby by The Ronettes fills the previous silent tension, which you seemingly already forgot everything about, using Jeongguk’s free hand as your own personal microphone, folding it in a fist between your palms.

Jeongguk would never say it out loud, especially now, after he only pretended he had to be begged to put it on, that he’s actually grown attached to this playlist. Started as a little mishap and turned into something that got under his skin, much like you have.

Its creation came about from a comically embarrassing moment that gave you ammunition to tease him for weeks. Although, he’s glad for it when he reflects deep enough: the whole episode helped shape the bond between you two, adding to its foundation.

He still doesn’t know how you managed to slip so sneakily into his dorm that evening, but what’s sure is that he wasn’t expecting you, taking the time of his life in his bathroom, fresh out of the shower. Simply following his usual routine, one that you wouldn’t have exactly considered usual since you only ever knew him as an avid Drake listener, he hummed along to Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling in Love flowing softly from his phone speaker.

It wasn’t just that, of course, because then he started styling his wet hair in an exaggerated pompadour and fully got into character, strutting dramatic poses in front of the mirror and even practicing Elvis’s iconic curl of the lip. If his soul was by any chance watching over the scene, you’d hoped he’d agree with you that Jeongguk was truly giving Austin Butler a run for his money.

The private show sadly ended when he caught sight of you in the foggy glass, your lips sealed shut to try and hold your delighted laughter, but it got ripped out of you in the form of an obnoxious snort the moment his eyes went wide in horror and his face crimson in shame.

It was hell for a few weeks after that. You didn’t let him off so easily, teasing him for being a secret softie with a love for old-school romance under all the layers of his tough fuckboy image that only ever seemed to handle trappy beats.

When you jokingly suggested he might as well get fully into the act and start calling you toots or something, he didn’t back down from the tease, scoffing at you with narrowed eyes. Somewhere along the way, the dry, sardonic tone with which he first used that pet name on you stuck, and it became less of a joke, more of an endearing way to refer to you, and only you.

Before either of you could second-guess it, the playlist was born. You two crafted it together in fits of laughter and late-night texts, with Jeongguk suggesting songs from his secret stash and you contributing the ones you grew up on.

It quickly became the soundtrack to many of your aimless car rides, something that neither of you acknowledged outright but silently cherished. Sometimes, you’d get so carried away and slip into the roles of a ‘60s couple, playfully reciting cheesy lines back and forth.

No matter how much Jeongguk pretends he hates it to save what’s left of his bad boy reputation, he really doesn’t. Not even a little bit. Even the way he rolls his eyes and groans isn’t enough to hide the spark in his eyes when you sing along.

He feels worse than a pubescent teenager when he lets his guard slip to hear you hum words he can only imagine are just for him, meant in the way he wants. You swing side by side and smile up at him with dimples digging long slits into your cheeks, and he has to act as if it makes him feel completely normal and not like he’s going to crash his car any second.

Each lyric that spills from your mouth feels like it’s tying him down, even with your sweet voice a little unsteady, thanks to whatever is still left from the night’s drinks. You’re so not aware of what it does to him.

Your eyes are on the road, but Jeongguk’s linger on you, his fingers unconsciously tapping the steering wheel to the tune.

“I’d save every day like a treasure, and then, again, I would spend them with you.”

Jeongguk purposefully veers off onto streets he doesn’t need to take, buying himself a few extra minutes with you, but you don’t notice and he pretends to not know either. Would never admit it’s because he wants to hear you sing a little more, and that this ongoing joke between the two of you might be his favorite thing in the whole world.

“But there never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do once you find them. Hold on, this one’s a little lower. I’ll find my note, wait,” you’re mostly talking to yourself, cheek pressed to the cool glass of the window, but you glance at Jeongguk as if seeking for approval, clearing your throat, “I’ve looked around enough to know that you’re the one I want to go through time with.”

Just as Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce fades out, Jeongguk pulls into the campus parking lot, turning the engine off and cutting the music with it. None of you move right away, accepting the stillness in the car.

You don’t accept the silence, though, letting your mind speak a thought that has been nagging at you, “Can you fuck me here? Right now?”

The way you voice the request would make anybody who didn’t understand English think you’d just asked for something as mundane as a glass of water, your eyes unfaltering, a small smile on your waiting lips, voice barely slicing through the quiet. It’s almost as if you don’t know it’s the kind of thing that could derail Jeongguk’s entire thought process.

Jeongguk lightly chokes on his own breath, giving a few coughs before turning to you, his tattooed hand messing his hair further, “Jesus Christ, ___. You know I can’t.”

You tilt your head, considering him, as if this is a serious debate rather than drunken rambling, “Why not?”

Jeongguk can only sigh. He takes in your disheveled state and notices the way your exposed skin prickles with the cold, reaching for the leather jacket he carelessly threw on the backseats before heading to the party, having had no idea you’d be the one wearing it by the end of the night.

He wraps it gently around your shoulders, moving sticky, stray strands of hair from your face, “You’re so drunk. Look at you.”

“I told you I’m not,” you protest weakly, but your confidence falters when his fingers ghost over your face.

“There’s vomit in your hair,” he shuts you bluntly, tone softer than the honest words.

“Oh,” your stubbornness doesn’t work this time, and you’re mortified as you glance down at your lap, where his fingers fall to mindlessly play with the zip of his bomber jacket, brushing your tummy in the process. Your voice doesn’t sound so sure now, especially when each subtle graze sends small shocks through you, “That’s disgusting.”

The soft chuckle he lets out has you stealing a look upward, and when you catch his expression your slowed down brain can only come to the conclusion that maybe he doesn’t find you all that disgusting: he sports a rare, wide curve of his bunny smile, eyes crinkling when that same fondness finds its way onto your lips. You can’t help what they do next, a mind of their own as you rest them on his own mouth, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek.

It’s the faintest of kisses, and it’s delicate, fleeting, over far too soon, but you’re the one to pull back first no matter how much longer you need it to be, “That was probably disgusting too.”

As you rest your back on the seat again, his eyes are still closed, and they flutter open as slowly as a smile stretches on his mouth when he meets you. You’re giving him a look he doesn’t deserve, one he shouldn’t lean into.

His voice is a whisper, and it fans over your face, still close to his, “Not at all.”

Gleaming eyes scan every angle of you, as if trying to find anything that’ll hold him back from what he really wants to do. But, of course, his need only grows when he lets his gaze wander down, then up again.

He glances to the side with a gulp, moving his body back to reach for the car door handle, “You think you can walk or should I carry you?”

“Carry me, please,” you mumble, not even pondering on the first option, and the moment the sound leaves your lips he’s out and reaching for your side, opening your door and scooping you up like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The walk to his dorm is a blur, with you dozing off in his warmth and being lulled by the hums escaping him and reverberating through his chest, melodies of the earlier songs playing against your ear.

You regain awareness when a splash of warm water cascades over your now naked body, the sensation startling enough to make your lashes flutter against your damp cheeks. The water runs over your face, washing away the remnants of the night, the drowsy yet oddly light sensation taking over you causing a giggle to echo against the walls.

You’re still too disoriented to process the tenderness with which Jeongguk’s hand moves, brushing through your soaked strands of hair and moving them from where they flattened on your face, combing through the sticky locks.

With half-open eyes, you’re met with the sight of him in front of you, standing close enough without needing to step into the small space with you, his brows furrowed as he works the shampoo through your hair. It’s a soothing, slow motion, the one he massages your scalp with, and it only melts you further into sweet slumber.

If it weren’t for one of his hands resting tightly on your hip, grounding you as the scent of the shampoo mingles with the steam curling around you, you would have gladly swayed into his palm, letting your weak body fall into his strong one.

You sniff, leaning into his care, voice small and oddly sincere, “I’m sorry for,” hiccup, “taking you away from Haeun. You two seem close again.”

Jeongguk stills for a moment, his fingers pausing in your hair before resuming their soft motions. He pretends he didn’t hear, and you pretend you never talked in the first place when he guides you to steady yourself as your knees wobble, “Hey, stand still. You’ll get shampoo in your eyes. Close them.”

You obey, letting your eyelids drop shut as you feel his hand gently tilt your head under the spray, his touch as tender as the words he isn’t saying.

If you weren’t a victim of both sleepiness and alcohol at this very moment, your thoughts would be racing each other like eager contenders in the Overthinker Marathon, each one fighting tooth and nail for the gold medal. They’d be dissecting every little detail of the night— the way Jeongguk had ignored you, his lingering hand on Haeun’s waist, only to be there the second you needed him, the girl from earlier not even worth mentioning.

Instead, your every thinking cell has taken a rare vacation, lounging together on an imaginary green field, clinking glasses filled with leftover cocktails from earlier, lazily watching clouds drift by.

Although there’s one cell in particular, too tipsy to sit still. It hops around gleefully, urging your lips to move before the Thinking Cell General can intervene. The way it jumps up and down, up and down, makes you giggle as you blurt out, “I don’t know if it’s the water, but I’m very wet.”

The silence that follows is thick, punctuated only by the sound of water cascading down your back. Jeongguk freezes as if the words have physically reached out and yanked him into stunned stillness. He can only let his throat bob in a visible swallow and look away, warning you in a strained mutter, “___. This is your last warning. Stop teasing me.”

You whine, pathetically wiggling your weak and pliant body in his hold to seek for some kind of reaction, but he doesn’t budge. He’s uncharacteristically focused on his tasks, ensuring every trace of shampoo rinses from your hair, rather than your hardened nipples bouncing with your stubborn movements.

But you recognise the way his jaw clenches so tight it must hurt, how he refuses to let his gaze wander lower where the steam of water outlines your form. His restraint is razor-thin, yet he holds it tightly, breathing only slightly uneven.

You’re not deterred by his warning; you never are. It’s the tiny tracks in his resolve that keep you pressing forward, voice laced with a vulnerability that makes his hand twitch against your scalp, “Just… I just need your fingers. Please.”

Jeongguk exhales sharply through his nose, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he angles the spray to wash the last suds away, hyper-focused on the practical task as though it’s a lifeline to his dwindling self-control.

But you’re persistent. You reach behind you, fingers messily finding the knob to twist the water off, and with the spray halting you’re left only with the hum of the bathroom fan and the faint drip of water.

Your other hand finds his, guiding his wide palm to rest on your lower stomach, just above where your want is written in every inch of your body. You whisper, plead clear in your tone, ”You know I want this. Won’t ever regret it. I’m conscious enough to be sure of that.”

Jeongguk huffs, his chest rising and falling as he stares down at you, fingers flexing slightly against your skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply as if accepting defeat. He can’t win this battle.

The brown-haired boy steps into the shower, the small space shrinking even further with the addition of his broader frame, forcing you to back up against the wall. Fully dressed, water clings to his fabric, and the contrast of his damp clothes against your bare, exposed skin makes you irrationally wetter.

Jeongguk keeps silent, and at this point you don’t care how desperate you look, pushing yourself against him and getting his clothes wetter in the process. It pushes him to initiate a torturous path along your skin, using his middle finger to trace a journey from your chest, savoring the way your breath hitches, down to your warm core.

The droplets of water he collects on the way are used to spread your puffy lips and press right on your sensitive nub, making you gasp. You’re a trembling mess from the simple motion, and he has to use his free hand to steady you against the wall.

Your breasts aren’t left without being taken care of, because the moment he begins circling motions on your clit that have you seeing stars, he lowers his head to envelop one of your tits in his ravenous mouth, teeth teasing it punitively, all while looking up at you with sliced, sinful eyes.

He’s greedy, and you can’t believe he managed to hide it so well until now. But his resolve crumbles the more he revels in the way you fall apart for him, and he loses control on your chest. The sensation is sharp, delicious, and the contrast between the harshness of his bite and the softness of his tongue has you whimpering.

You’re ashamedly aware of how close you already are, his digits picking a fast speed that urges you to let go and coat him in your juices. He knows, simply from the way you let your mouth fall agape and release loud moans in the steamy air, pushing your nipples further in his swollen lips.

When he inserts one finger in your warm hole, you jolt in his secure hold, eyebrows shot upwards in the shock of your sudden orgasm, one that hits you all too harshly. It drags on deliciously, Jeongguk never wanting it to end, the slurping sound of his sucking on your tits making your surrounding spin, along with his thumb accompanying the way his single digits thrusts into you.

He only stops when you unconsciously run from his doings, slim hand wrapping weakly around his wrist, and he retreats with one last wet stripe along the curve of your boob, promptly collecting your taste from his fingers, and he thoroughly hums around them, eyes closed and cheeks hollowed.

You think you could come again from the sight alone. Panting, you smile through your ragged breaths, “Fuck. Thanks.”

Five minutes later, no one would bet you’re the same girl that begged him for his fingers and came in record time around them. Now, you sit serenely on the toilet lid, wrapped up in Jeongguk’s warmest hoodie. The oversized fabric swallows your frame, knees tucked under it as you hug them close to your chest. You look as innocent as ever.

Jeongguk stands in front of you, meticulously brushing through your damp hair with practiced gentleness, each stroke of the comb a soothing lullaby. You rest your chin lazily on your folded arms, eyes closed, the edges of sleep blurring your thoughts.

You let out a contented sigh before murmuring, words unfiltered, “You’d make the perfect boyfriend. You always take care of me. And kiss me when I need it.”

The motions of the brush stop for a fraction of a second before resuming, and what you hear next is Jeongguk’s throat clearing, his voice low and almost shaky, “That sounds so very wrong, toots.”

“What do you mean?” You don’t open your eyes as you ask the question, the warmth of his presence and the excuse of the last traces of alcohol still flowing in your tired body making you bolder than usual.

“You want me to be your boyfriend?”

“In another life, maybe. Yes,” you don’t waste time replying, words carrying a dreamy quality, “I mean, would be cool.”

“Cool?” He chuckles, but it’s the kind that’s half-exasperation and half-something else entirely, voice strained with an edge of desperation too, “God, I don’t even know why I’m still putting up with you.”

You only nuzzle closer into the borrowed hoodie, giving voice to your next thought, your thinking cells now hosting a 60s themed party, “Be my, be my baby. My one and only baby.”

The sound of your singing fades under the whirring roar of the hairdryer, and Jeongguk is quietly thankful for the way it drowns your sweet hums completely, fearing if he hears another one of those tipsy love confessions leaving your lips he might drop to his knees, undone by something he knows he can’t claim.

You rest your head against his stomach, full weight leaning on his standing figure, his long digits pulling through your strands. If you’d look up at your best friend for even one fleeting second, you’d probably laugh at the concentration on his expression, his only goal drying your hair enough to not have you waking up with a headache the following day.

You sniffle and snuggle impossibly closer to him, the heat radiating from his tummy and the white noise lulling you further into drowsiness, every careful motion of his hand coaxing you closer to sleep.

When your phone pings from the bathroom counter, the sudden buzz makes you jolt slightly. You lift your head sluggishly and gesture toward the phone, mouthing up to Jeongguk, “Pass it.”

He hands it to you without turning off the hairdryer, keeping an eye on your sleepy movements. You blink at the bright light for a moment before your expression shifts, eyes widening.

You’re completely jolted awake at the only notification on your home screen: it's Namjoon.

You tap Jeongguk’s stomach with the heel of your hand— softly at first, then with increasing urgency. The repeated motion forces him to stop the device and place it on the counter as he looks down at you, trying to peek at the screen, “What?”

You hiccup and sniff before blurting out, “Namjoon. He texted me”

The boy that was just now carefully drying your hair scoffs, arms crossed over his chest, “What does that asshole want?”

The response to the rhetorical question doesn’t come, either because you decide to ignore it purposefully or unconsciously: you look totally engulfed by the words on your otherwise empty chat with Namjoon, and Jeongguk can’t help but subtly lean his body lower to read the same texts you’re going through.

Kim Namjoon [4:26 a.m.]: Hey. Sorry for texting late, I heard from someone you threw up back at the party. I’m so sorry. I completely lost sight of you in that mess. Are you feeling any better? Very sorry again.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: It’s totally okay if you don’t want to hear from me again. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try to make it up to you.

Kim Namjoon [4:27 a.m.]: I’d really like to take you out on a date. Would you let me?

Jeongguk kisses his teeth irkedly, “Why the fuck does he text like Prince William? Fucking English major,” and he truly tried his best to sound unaffected, but the words leave his mouth before he even knows he’s thinking of them.

Luckily, you don’t seem to notice, reading the message aloud like you can’t quite believe it yourself, “He said he’d like to go on a date with me. Like, he asked me on a date. And said he would like it. To go on a date—”

“Yes, we got it.”

“He doesn’t hate me, Gguk!” Once again, his petty comments go unnoticed as your face lights up, eyes crinkling with joy as you practically beam up at him.

Jeongguk wants to be annoyed, but he simply can’t when he’s met with all the stars in the universe right in your glossy, tired eyes. He swallows hard and forces a soft chuckle, “No, he doesn’t, toots. Anyone would be crazy to hate you.”

The grin on your lips only widens, nose scrunching adorably as you let your cheek sheepishly brush against your shoulder, “Oh my god, Gguk. I’m going on a date with him! Heh.”

“That’s nice,” he says, picking up the hairdryer again before your words can settle too heavily in the space between you. “I’m not finished with your hair, though. Stay still.”

The device roars to life once more, its noise filling the room and covering your excited giggles. Jeongguk keeps brushing through your hair with steady motions, his face impassive, but he feels something tighten, heavy and unyielding in his chest.

He tells himself the noise is a blessing, a shield from the silence he wouldn’t know how else to fill—or from the sound of his own voice, betraying him in ways he can’t afford.

────୨ৎ────

“I’ll miss the sex when Namjoon will ask me to be his girlfriend.”

In the quiet of the library, your sudden whisper startles Jeongguk. The chair screeches under him and it gains the both of you a few annoyed looks. He nods in apology at their way, moving closer to the table again, and he has to blink a few times before he can even meet your eyes. The scattered pens all over the white surface looked more interesting either way.

“When he— his— what?” He feels pathetic for being unable to even form a senseful sentence, but there’s no absolute way he blames his brain for that. It’s his heart, stuttering along with the barely intelligible question.

It cracks at the middle the more your grin splits your face in half, nose scrunching adorably, and he may be a horrible friend but he can’t bring himself to return your irony, nor the masked excitement under it.

If he were handed pen and paper and asked to write about how he feels right at this moment, he wouldn’t put down a single thing. Not because there isn’t anything to say. He fears your innocent teasing has done something catastrophic, snapping that one damned string that connected his brain to his heart, and the two aren’t communicating. Jeongguk is in the middle of two angered parents, fighting and on the brink of divorce. That’s what he gets for being a total pussy.

You shrug, frowning slightly when all you’re faced with is his blank expression, eyes unresponsive and detachedly looking elsewhere, but you keep yours on him, studying even the small movements, “I mean, he’s a nice guy. I think he’s serious about getting to know me.”

The word serious causes an involuntary twitch of his head, tilting almost imperceptibly to the side, and he sounds way too defensive, “And are you?”

Furrowing your eyebrows at his unexpected reaction, you return to your previous mindless doodling, keeping your voice low, “Well, he’s cute. Let’s see where this thing goes.”

“What about me?”

The question catches the both of you off guard. Your pencil halts as you glance at him through the corner of your eye, and even if you can’t see him clearly, the way his dark orbs widen is almost comical that you would laugh in any other situation. But now, the air is oddly tense and it makes your nose scrunch in awkwardness.

He breaks it with a chuckle, a subtle tremor in it that luckily goes unnoticed by you but that will probably keep him up at night for the next five years, and he lightly shoves your shoulder in an effort at feigning ease, “You really wanna pass on this dick?”

“God, you’re gross,” the annoyed roll of your eyes has Jeongguk releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; it’s odd, but that’s just who he is.

The second you return to weightless banter, he’s back in his element. He can smirk, tease and deflect— these are tools he’s mastered over the months. But the thought of stripping naked for your eyes to see, and not in the sexual way you two engage in almost every night, terrifies him.

The waters are safe for what seems a fraction of a second before you pull him down in the deep, dark seas again, this dynamic between you foreign. While it is a simple, innocent question, your deceptive tone triggers unfamiliarity within him, “Besides, how’s it going with you and Haeun?”

“Huh? Oh. Haeun, yes,” his attempt at buying himself extra time is laughable, especially when Mr. Brain is now yelling at Ms. Heart for always wanting to get in the way of things he can handle alone, “Wonderfully. We— She— Huh, kissed me.”

Ms. Heart is furious. She has no other choice but to reach in her purse and slap the divorce papers on the dinner table, the glasses clinking against the plates, and Jeongguk flinches. Brain is speechless, clueless on how to react.

You only seem slightly taken aback, eyebrows raising in mild surprise, “Really? That’s nice.”

Jeongguk is equally clueless, subtly squeezing his eyes shut as if hoping to wake up somewhere else entirely, maybe in an ideal world where Kim Namjoon doesn’t exist and Mr. Brain and Ms. Heart are happily married.

Instead, he’s still in the library, and you’re still sitting next to him, scribbling on your English textbook. He frowns, getting pitiably lost in the view of your side profile, “Yeah, nice. Huh, when’s your date?”

When you glance up at him, you seem to be realizing just how odd it is for the two of you to spend this much time talking about your respective hook ups, and you cringe slightly at the unusual formality, wishing Jeongguk would just tease you like he usually does when you tell him about your untruthful and made up sexual adventures.

You purse your lips in thought, “Tomorrow, actually.”

“Oh. He’s going fast.”

“I like that.”

“I know you do.”

No matter the effort you put into trying to hide your amusement, a snort escapes you, and you quickly look away to recover from the childish grin spreading on your lips. You shake your head, closing the book in front of you, “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Jeongguk only smirks in an oddly proud way, nodding at your flustered state when he realizes he successfully managed yet again to shift the conversation from topics he doesn’t want to hear or talk about. He shrugs, “You just said that.”

“And I’ll say it again.”

“Whatever,” a small chuckle follows the dismissal, his hand coming to brush through his fluffy hair, getting too long for his liking, “I really wanted to see you tomorrow.”

Once again, Jeongguk is way too honest, way too easily. Ms. Heart is marching hastily with Mr. Brain walking close behind, trying to make sense of the situation and pushing her to reconsider her actions, but it’s no use: she’s tired, and sick of being walked over, again and again.

He doesn’t like the underlying meaning behind that, and wishes Mr. Brain would grow a pair and just swoon her back into love again. Jeongguk doesn’t like the genuine surprise etched across your face either, or, well, he doesn’t like the effect it has on him: it’s almost unbearable to accept that the blush dusting your cheeks, the one you’re probably unaware of, is caused by his unfiltered honesty. Because sincere bluntness isn’t exactly something he tries to show. Then, why does it spill out of him uncontrollably? Why— why do you look so beautiful like this?

“Hm,” your smile is small, but your dimple betrays it, Jeongguk’s whole resolve cracking with the way you sound dangerously decisive, “Too bad. You’re late.”

Jeongguk shouldn’t overthink this. You’re simply engaging in the usual dynamic, teasing him like always, no reason for his palms to sweat. He shouldn’t panic over the way nothing about what you said feels simple, nor usual, and your tone carries more than what you both want the words to mean.

He doesn’t know if it’s a warning or a test—or worse, the truth. Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe Brain just misinterpreted the comment, too distracted by its constant squabble with Heart, both of them ignoring Jeongguk, who is still sitting at the cluttered kitchen table with his plate half-full, surrounded by a mess of inky emotions he doesn’t have the courage to clean up.

The sound of forks clinking against plates grates against his ears, drowning out the hurried excuses spilling from your mouth, the ones you’re babbling and making up along the way of gathering your things and standing up from the round table, shouldering your bag in the same hurry you left his room with before the next time he saw you was nose to nose with Namjoon.

You huff, giving a small, tight lipped smile that should be meaningless, but to Jeongguk it isn’t, “I’ll go now. See you around?”

“Huh, sure. Let me know how it goes with Namsun.”

You roll your eyes at the playful attempt, his grin just as empty, “Right. Bye Gguk.”

You’re off the hallway before he can add anything else. Not that he would have been able to. Your bag swings with your big steps, slim hands coming to absently tug your plaid skirt lower, and Jeongguk thinks and thinks.

He realizes he really doesn’t want to know how your little date goes. Would rather shoot himself rather than hearing you talk about another guy taking you out to dinner, stealing you from him and sealing the end to whatever the two of you have.

His options are narrowed. He either commits in front of you and forever changes the trajectory of your life or does something about Namjoon. But why does the option of ending his life sound much easier than stepping up to big, buff Namjoon, infatuated with the same girl he likes?

Oh.

The admission jolts him. It’s a physical reaction that causes his chair to shriek again under his movements, but this time he’s not polite enough to apologize for it. He must look crazy, wide eyes burning holes into his hands planted steadily on the table in front of him.

The girl he likes. You’re the girl he likes.

And every signal is there. The spark he sought for now lights a nervous feeling in his stomach, its fireworks interrupting Brain and Heart’s incessant arguing.

Does he look stupid not doing anything for the girl he likes? Not fighting for the girl he’s been falling for all this time?

────୨ৎ────

It should be easy. It is easy.

Jeongguk can’t let the sleepless night spent reciting lines to his ceiling go to waste. He’s sure not even theater kids could match his determination. And as he marches across campus toward the gym, where the squeak of sneakers and the echo of grunts will lead him to the person needed to put the plan into action, he reviews step by step what he’s told himself to do. It’s a well-rehearsed script, each word, every calculated expression—he’s gone over it a hundred times, accounting for every reaction.

Step one, be casual. Friendly, even. Approach Namjoon like there’s nothing calculated about this interaction—no ulterior motives, no scheme brewing beneath the surface. Just a casual catch-up between two guys.

“What’s up, Kim,” when Jeongguk spots the slightly taller boy exercising at a steady walking pace on the treadmill, he immediately hops onto the free one beside him.

Namjoon startles slightly, then smiles with those stupid, charming dimples of his, and it’s one that Jeongguk would probably only give if forced, “Hey, Jeongguk. Long time no see.”

The brown-haired boy nods, setting the speed and quickly catching up to Namjoon. He keeps his tone deliberately cool, even borderline disinterested, “You been good?”

On his left, your almost-boyfriend shrugs, jogging along, “Yeah, just studying, man. What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” he hasn’t cracked open a book in weeks, and that study session from yesterday was just an excuse to be with you. But he can’t afford to let his thoughts linger on you too long or he’ll lose focus. He needs focus. “You catch that last game?”

Step two, pretend to care about what Namjoon is saying and then proceed with the acting skills only to suddenly remember something totally random he wanted to mention.

“Fuck, don’t remind me. I was so sure we would win,” the sweating man sounds way too affected by the recent football match, and Jeongguk fears if he asks one more question for the sake of pretending he’ll never get to the actual point.

So, he goes straight to it, “Yeah, it was rough. Oh, by the way. You know ___, right?”

The simple mention of your name causes a small stutter in Namjoon’s step, but he recovers with the stupid smile from earlier, only this time it’s wider, “Of course I know her. Why do you ask?”

Step three, just be honest. He just has to lay it all out. Be straightforward. Tell him the truth about how he’s felt for so long and what this whole thing with you is doing to him. It’s not a confrontation—it’s a conversation. Jeongguk will politely explain that he’s liked you for a while now, that he’s been in your life long before Namjoon, and, as a courtesy, he’d appreciate it if he would step back from pursuing you.

Civil. Calm. Totally chill. There’s absolutely nothing to get worked up over.

"You really don't know? Have no idea?" Jeongguk asks, his voice dropping, tone more pointed than he intended.

Namjoon slows his treadmill slightly, glancing over with furrowed brows and a faintly amused smile. “No, man. Enlighten me.”

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.”

What. The. Fuck.

That wasn’t the plan. Not even close to the plan.

────୨ৎ────

You feel stupid.

Wrapped around in your warmest coat, you still shiver. It could be the way your legs are exposed under your wool dress, high black boots reaching just beneath your knees. But there’s something else to the chill, making you shake in fading jitters. The excitement of the evening you told yourself you were looking forward to morphs into anxiety, and the passing looks of people mean more than they should as minutes tick and tick; they seem to glance at you for too long, their looks heavy with what you can only imagine is judgment.

A young girl swaddled in small but striking details from head to toe — delicate earrings that catch the light, a scarf knotted perfectly at the neck, polished nails clutching the strap of an expensive-looking bag, hair done up in a neat slicked bun — glancing nervously at her surroundings can only mean one thing: she’s been stood up.

Namjoon was supposed to meet you in front of the cozy cafè just outside the campus, its warm tones and surely even warmer ambience so very inviting. Maybe you’d go in, order a steaming hot chocolate for yourself, and chalk this up as a lesson learned. But instead, you chose to wait outside, shifting on your tiptoes every so often, scanning the crowd for a glimpse of the first man to ask you out in what felt like ages.

You feel as though you’ll be forever destined to wait more when thirty minutes go by and Namjoon is nowhere to be seen.

You frown, swaying on your heels. What you feel is not disappointment— not at first. But that only causes you to feel worse about yourself when you realize you’re almost relieved the tall man hasn’t shown up, and he’s not here to turn fears into even scarier realities. The date would have given a concrete meaning to your actions, and the thought stirs something not exactly pleasant within you.

The scratch at the back of your mind grows harder to ignore, and no matter how much you try to shake it off, your subconscious finds ways back to it when your hand instinctively dives into the depths of the expensive purse you had specially chosen for this occasion. A purse meant to complement your carefully selected dark ensemble— an effort that now feels entirely wasted. You spent so much time getting ready for something you’re not ready for at all.

Pulling out your phone, your thumb scrolls to Jeongguk’s number with a natural automatism, typing before you even register why he’s the first person you feel the need to tell.

You [9:39 p.m.]: hi

You [9:39 p.m.]: namjoon stood me up lol

The typing bubbles appear faster than you anticipated, and as you watch them dance across the screen, you burrow deeper into the fragile warmth of your jacket, the tip of your nose numb from the cold.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: Whattttttt????

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:40 p.m.]: He’s such an asshooooooole

Your first instinct is to snort at his reaction, a childish grin tugging at your lips, but it turns into a scowl when the more you reread the text, the more it sounds weird. He usually never texts like a six-year-old using his mom’s iPad.

You [9:40 p.m.]: yes he is

You [9:40 p.m.]: why are u textin so weird btw lol

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: Wym weirddd

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:41 p.m.]: I’m totally normal

You [9:41 p.m.]: wtv

You [9:42 p.m.]: u still wanna hang out?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Yes please

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Want me to pick u up

sassy queen 💁🏻 [9:42 p.m.]: Where are u rn

The head tilt is unconscious, but you feel it click in place. You’ve mentioned how Jeongguk is caring, how he can read your needs like no one else and caters to them quietly, but he’s never this pliant, this malleable. You like him because it’s hard to get him to bend (and you’d rather die than let Jeongguk know about this).

You [9:43 p.m.]: is ok

You [9:43 p.m.]: i’ll just walk

You [9:43 p.m.]: be there in 10

The walk usually takes you less than 10 minutes, but before meeting him, you decide to head back to your dorm and change out of these stupid fancy clothes you picked out for the date.

You keep your head low as you walk through the hallways, the full glam you put on impossible to miss as it sparkles under the fluorescent lights, just as your boots' heels echo through the corridors.

Taking off the dress and heels feels like peeling away the embarrassment of rejection, the weight of disappointment settling in as you realize you couldn’t prove to yourself that you could do it, that you can do it, take the leap and let something serious into your life.

You question whether you're even cut out for it when the guy who seemed perfect ended up proving the opposite.

Now, back in more comfortable clothes — Jeongguk's black hoodie from the other day and baggy sweatpants — you feel a little more like yourself. Scared of emotions, scared of commitment, no matter how many hours of your day are spent daydreaming about it.

The second you click the door of your room open, it’s like you can smell a weird shift in the air. And you do, literally sniff, scanning your surroundings for any hint of something burning or out of place.

But it’s not about the dorm in its physical state, no— it’s the odd silence that you’re met with, the people you’re used to sharing the space with now uncharacteristically careful with their volume.

“Oh my god, ___,” that is probably why you’re visibly startled by the sudden voice coming from your side, Iseul looking like containing excitement is the hardest task she’s ever been asked to deal with, just like the few other girls behind her, all practically vibrating, “You’re finally here.”

You furrow your brows, chuckling confusedly at the unusuality of it all— well, it’s not like you don’t get along with these people. It’s just that you’ve never gone over meaningless jokes and talks about the state of the dorm, plus you’ve never exactly been the center of attention like this. It feels off, and it reflects in your uncertain tone, “I am?”

“I’m so happy for you,” Binna chimes in next, grabbing your shoulders with way more enthusiasm than the level of your relationship with her would normally allow, and the way all of their heads nod along that it feels like a coordinated performance is starting to scare you.

“You’re… happy for—”

“I’ve always known you and Jeongguk were perfect for each other,” the affection dripping from Binna’s voice sickens you, maybe even more than the words she’s speaking.

Huh?

You swear you feel your heart skip a long beat before you mask it with an obnoxious, nervous laugh, only growing more when none of them crack a smile or react, “Me and— okay, is this a fucking joke?”

“C’mon, ___,” Iseul says, her sweet voice doing nothing to calm your tension, and if anything it only heightens it, “You don’t need to hide anymore, Jeongguk told Namjoon that you’re his girlfriend.”

Oh. So this must be a fucking joke.

And you can’t stand it.

You barely manage to shake off their relentless curiosity, the entire dorm suddenly buzzing with an interest in you after years of peaceful and civil indifference, and it only overwhelms you to the brim.

Fury boils in your chest as you step out of the building, the cold air failing to cool the anger that flares up within you. With every step, your frustration grows, and you hastily type on your phone as you make your way toward the one person that’s responsible for your temper.

You [10:07 p.m.]: what the actual fuck jeongguk

The response comes so quickly, almost as if he were waiting for you to type it, and you scoff in disbelief. In that moment, you feel a twisted sense of understanding with serial killers. It makes you question how much control you actually have over yourself.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:07 p.m.]: What’s up?

You [10:07 p.m.]: why’s the whole dorm asking me how's it like to be your gf?

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: Eeehhhh???

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:08 p.m.]: That’s so weird

You’re actually gonna fuck this man up.

You [10:09 p.m.]: jeon jeongguk.

You [10:09 p.m.]: they’re saying you told namjoon i’m your girlfriend.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:09 p.m.]: Don’t use my full name and the period please 🥺

You [10:10 p.m.]: i’ll fucking kill you.

sassy queen 💁🏻 [10:10 p.m.]: You’re so hot when you’re like this

You [10:10 p.m.]: shut the hell up.

The banging on his door comes shortly after, and Jeongguk doesn’t even flinch. He knows it’s you, and frankly he was even expecting your arrival to be louder, hit him a little harder than it does. And when he lets you in, you storm in his space with no room for oxygen, door closing behind you but unable to contain the volume of your rage private.

“Can you explain why the whole campus thinks we’re dating? ‘Cause you’re not my boyfriend, and I’m not your girlfriend, and this is not fucking funny.”

But Jeongguk evidently does find it funny, chuckling under his hand coming to cover his mouth while the other one lifts to show you the bright screen of his cracked phone, “Really? The uni Instagram page is shipping us.”

“Shipping us?” You snatch the device from his hands, eyes widening as you scroll through the amount of stories posted in the last hour, everyone and their mother feeling entitled to weigh in on your nonexistent relationship. You whine, a hand resting at your forehead in disbelief, “Oh my god, this is ridiculous.”

“What, are you ashamed of me?” Jeongguk asks casually, walking back and sitting on the bed with a soft thud, his whole demeanor relaxed with a nonchalance that makes your left eye twitch.

You scoff, unwilling to grasp how this is even an actual thing happening to you, tossing the phone back at him, “A little bit, yeah. You think this is a fucking joke, huh? I’m now apparently dating the uni’s most popular fuckboy.”

The damned boy in front of you leans on his forearms, pouting just for show, “Hey, that’s mean. I’m no fuckboy.”

Bag thrown to the ground with a violence that it does not deserve, you start pacing back and forth in his room, letting out a borderline insane laugh, not knowing whether to scream or cry, “Yes, you are. You went through every single girl in this building.”

“Do you really think of me like that?”

The sudden sincerity that you think you spot in his tone makes you halt your steps, body turning to him as he sits straight again, his head tilting slightly.

You sigh, frustration mounting, and you throw your head back at the ceiling for any signal from the universe that this is indeed a joke, a bad, huge joke on you, “Jeongguk. Please.”

Silence fills the room next, but it doesn’t make it any easier to think nor does it quite register in your brain, mind racing with jumbled and chaotic thoughts, barely coming through as coherent words, getting intertwined with one another.

But the more you walk from one side of the room to the other, the more you’re almost able to untangle the mess, just enough to start processing what’s happening.

Then, a nuclear bomb wipes it all out, Jeongguk’s words the missile, his quiet tone the explosion, “I don’t want you to see nobody else.”

“What the fuck?”

The aftermath of the destruction is not only loud, ears ringing with a shrieking alarm going off, your figure stiff with shock, but you feel its heat burning your whole body in consuming flames that threaten to swallow you whole if you don’t let them take over, rise, flood every nerve until all you can feel is the rage boiling in your veins when you practically scream at him, ”What the hell does that even mean? You're being selfish!”

“Am I?” Jeongguk asks calm, calculated, gaze locked on yours as if daring you to challenge him further. His tone is maddeningly measured even as he pushes himself off the bed and closes the distance between you.

It’s like he’s planned this— attack after attack designed to destabilize you completely. Not only did he thrust you into the spotlight without warning, claiming you for the whole campus to see as if you’re worth nothing more than a stupid prank and a few laughs.

But now he talks with a grace that belies the chaos he’s stirred, as if his words are just another fact, something as simple as the weather, “I haven’t been seeing anybody since this summer. Since we started using no condom.”

Your pupils tremble with something far more complex than just anger, though you refuse to give it a name. He’s practically towering over you, his stance purposeful, making you feel small; as if the intensity of his gaze is not enough that it makes you falter, as if the humiliation he’s putting you through isn’t either. Head shaking, your voice does too, “That’s— not true. You’re a fucking liar. You— What about Haeun?

“Nothing even happened with her.”

The speed of his denial sets you off, an incredulous scoff breaking free as you roll your tongue against the inside of your cheek—a habit you’d picked up from witnessing his easy tempers, “Then why did you tell me you kissed?”

“Because—” Jeongguk hesitates, and the pause is so out of character that it almost gives you whiplash. The boy who always has something to say suddenly seems unsure. His hand flexes at his side, a nervous tick you hadn’t noticed before, and he exhales as if the words are fighting their way out of him, “‘Cause— I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Your voice cracks on the word, a laugh bubbling out of you that’s sharp and fractured, borderline unhinged. It cuts through the room like broken glass, and his expression tightens, jaw clenching. But he doesn’t interrupt.

“Jealous,” you repeat, louder this time, your incredulous tone thick with rage. “You’re telling me you made up that bullshit because you were jealous?”

He doesn’t respond, and it pushes you closer to your limit, on the verge of exploding. You don’t know how you find it within you, but with a long exhale and a quick prayer up at the ceiling, you meet his gaze in an almost patronizing manner, “Jeongguk, we are not exclusive. I thought that was well implied. You don’t get to act like this. You don’t get to be jealous.”

Nodding along to your words, Jeongguk’s brows draw together, his expression somewhere between anxious and defensive. There’s something in his eyes, something close to fear, but fear of what, you can’t quite place.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than yours, as though he’s trying to keep it from breaking, “I know. We both agreed to that, yes. We’re both allowed to see other people.”

The words feel rehearsed, like he’s repeated them to himself a hundred times. But with the silence stretching, it’s clear he’s struggling to say more. His lips press together briefly, and his gaze flicks to yours, searching. It’s as though he’s waiting — no, hoping — you’ll interject, offer something to fill the space.

You don’t. You hold firm, tilting your head slightly, your confusion evident. Your wide, questioning eyes, so big, so honest, pull the truth from him in a way you don’t intend, and he exhales like it’s been forced out of him.

“But I don’t want you to.”

The sheer audacity of his words hits you like a slap, the kind that stings more because of its unexpectedness. You snort, although there’s nothing particularly amusing about your heart cracking at the middle, but you manage to keep it from resounding in your words, "That’s so fucking mean. Do you even hear yourself? You get to fuck whoever you want, and I’m kept hostage? And now—now everybody thinks we’re dating!"

"That’s good," he says, simple, unflinching.

You blink, disbelief coursing through you as your lips part in a strangled gasp. "What?" The word is half a whisper, half a shout, and it escapes before you can temper it, "You’re so selfish. I fucking hate you.”

The emotion is foreign from what you’re used to showing him, softness in quiet ways, affection in silent gestures. But now, it’s all loud rage, the opposite of love spilling out of you in volatile waves. Your hands curl into fists at your sides, itching for release, something, anything to make him feel the way you’re being forced to feel, to cut through the weight of his seemingly impassive expression showing only the barest twitch in his brows, a crack too small to satisfy your anger.

It isn’t enough. You need more.

Your palms find his chest, shoving him with the force of every burning feeling inside you. “You’re stupid,” you spit, watching him take the push without exactly budging, like he’s made of stone. It only stokes your frustration further, your hands pushing again, harder this time. “And dumb.”

Jeongguk doesn’t step back, doesn’t fight you. He stands there, his chest steady, absorbing your hits without a word. His lack of resistance only makes the storm inside you rage harder, and the tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over.

You scramble for more, anything to turn the reality of what you truly feel into the illusion of anger, “And— and— Why the fuck are you silent! Say something!” You aim another punch at his chest, but it’s impossibly weaker, the exhaustion showing in your useless attempts at getting at him.

You sniff, and you know you lost against his indifference, your voice wavering feeling like a confession you didn’t mean to make. “Asshole. You’re being so mean. You’re making me cry.”

That’s what finally breaks him. Only the tears slipping rapidly from your eyes get his resolve to crumble. His hands are on you instantly, gripping your shoulders gently but firmly, refusing to let you squirm away. You slap at them weakly, but his touch is steady, his fingers brushing strands of hair from your face, cupping your chin to tilt it up toward him.

“Toots, no. Hey, hey,” he whispers, his tone soft in a way that disarms you completely. His thumb swipes at a stray tear, but your face turns away, evading him like it’s your only line of defense. He doesn’t back down, “Stop crying. Hey, look at me. Will you?”

“Stop calling me that!” You finally snap, jerking your face away again. The tears are spilling faster now, no matter how much you want to fight them, no matter how much you want to cling to the fury. “I hate you. You’re fucking all the girls in this college, and I’m only fucking you, because— because—”

“God,” Jeongguk groans, exasperation dripping from his tone. You’re about to hurl another half-formed insult or maybe even take a swing at him again, aiming low, but his next words stop you cold.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” His tone is quieter now, more deliberate, the vulnerability in it cutting sharper than anything else he’s said. “I like you. I broke the rule.”

You’re sure your heart will fail you today. It misses at least four beats, and it steals the oxygen from your lungs, along with the color from your face.

You stammer, eyes widening as your pulse picks up again and pounds in your ears. “Don’t—don’t say shit like that. I swear to God, I’ll actually fuck you up. Stop—lying to me.”

“What the fuck, ___? I’m not lying to you,” Jeongguk’s voice attempts to be steady but it can’t hide the desperation, as if he’s holding on by a thread. “Why would I?”

The question is simple.

Why would Jeongguk lie to you? Does he have a reason to fake this?

The world seems to tilt, the ground beneath you shifting in some irreparable way.

You should feel scared. You should feel repulsed at the thought of commitment, the weight of his words pressing against you like a cage. But you don’t.

Instead, your eyes dart between his, searching for cracks in his sincerity, like a frantic spectator watching a tennis match, every glance like a volley in the game of something bigger than either of you. The matchpoint sends a thrill through your chest, something overwhelming and terrifying but not unwelcome.

Jeongguk watches you closely, feeling the weight of the silence between you stretch on longer than he can handle. He knows he’s the one that should break it, knows the truth he’s holding inside has to be spoken now.

It’s now or never. He can’t keep pretending—this isn’t just some casual thing to him, and he’s not ready to let it slip away without a fight. You’ve become everything he didn’t know he needed, and yet here he is, paralyzed by the fear of rejection, of being vulnerable, of watching the one thing he wants most slip right through his fingers.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If he doesn’t speak up now, he’ll lose everything. His fear has no place in this moment anymore.

It’s a long exhale before his voice drops in soft honey, shaking with the weight of the truth, “Look. I know it’s hard to trust me. You’ve seen me fuck up multiple times over this stuff. But I want to stop this cycle. I want to allow myself something good,” his eyes search for any signal that he should stop talking, but in yours he finds every reason for him not to, “And you’re everything good that life will ever concede me. I can't… I can't let you go. I can't lose you.”

"Jeongguk…" His name slips from your lips like a prayer you've been too afraid to speak aloud until now. But you see it— he’s ready to find every solution, even if it means confronting the fear that has held him back for so long.

“I like you so much it’s killing me,” he admits, voice low and raw, every syllable cracking with vulnerability.

It’s a slow realization, like a tide that comes in quietly, softly. You’ve felt its caress for so long, and now that it embraces you wholly, you feel your heart expand, filling with the same warmth, the same longing.

The words you wish you could say are caught in your throat. You look up at him, eyes wide, trying to comprehend, to take in what he’s offering. You’re almost afraid to ask, as if the answer will shatter something you’ve worked so hard to protect, “You like me?”

“I lose my fucking mind when it comes to you.” His confession is a rush of honesty that sweeps through you, his eyes not leaving yours, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he blinks.

The world feels like it’s slowing down. There’s so much you’ve been holding back, but you don’t know how to make the words fit, how to make them sound right.

Jeongguk takes a small step back, his voice quieter but still heavy with emotion. “It’s okay if you wanna end it here,” he murmurs, his words barely above a whisper, like he’s bracing for the worst. “At least it wasn’t because you got with some other stupid guy.”

You shake your head, the thought of losing him too painful to bear. “Stop—” You let out a frustrated sigh, hands curling into fists at your sides. “God, you’re so dumb. This could have been so much easier if you’d told me sooner.”

He looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “What do you mean?”

You feel your chest tighten, the truth slipping out before you can stop it. “I like you too,” you admit, the words finally leaving your lips hastly, like they were just waiting for the right moment. “I agreed to the date because I thought you were still… fucking around.”

His face softens, and there’s a flash of relief in his eyes. “I wasn’t. Haven’t been in so long.”

“...No Haeun?”

“Hell no. I don’t want no kiss if it isn’t from you.”

You laugh, a low sound that fills the air between you. “Cheesy fucker,” you tease, but there’s a warmth in your chest now, a feeling you can’t ignore. “Well, if you want to know, I wasn’t seeing anybody either. Namjoon asked me out randomly, but I haven’t been with anyone else since… this started.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, everything is quiet. He looks at you like he’s just heard something he never expected to hear. “Oh,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

Jeongguk steps closer to you, his hands reaching for you, voice thick, “I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to make you cry. It’s breaking my heart.” His thumb brushes across your cheek, gently wiping away the remnants of the tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, your heart swelling with both regret and tenderness. “It’s okay,” you say softly. “I’m sorry for yelling all that stuff at you. I don’t hate you. I…”

Before you can finish, his lips crash against yours, and all the confusion, all the fears, prove themselves to be worth this moment.

They dissolve into something real, the kiss trying to make up for lost time, for all the things left unsaid.

When you pull away, your foreheads resting together, Jeongguk’s voice is quiet but determined. “Come here, baby. You’re mine.”

“Prove it.”

╔══════════════╗

A Burning Hill, Chapter 2

╚══════════════╝

CHAPTER 1

characters: levi ackerman x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers for season 1-2 of attack on titan, a looot of angst, swearing, slow burn, soft levi, fighting, major character deaths

a/n: okay so i was supposed to have this up during the weekend but my mental health has been so bad that i couldn't get it done on time. nevertheless i hope you guys enjoy this chapter and thank your for the feedback on chapter 1, i appreciate you guys so much and hope you enjoy this part just as much♡

845 AD

it would only keep getting worse. even when the government felt that citizens of paradis were safe from the titans with the protection of the walls, everything fell apart in a single fateful evening.

an abnormal, beyond the south gate of shiganshina district. it was different this time. the titan looming over the wall had a unique and threatening appearance. it was colossal, its height helping it reach over the wall and gaze upon the terrified eyes of wall maria residents.

and then chaos erupted.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"why am i always stuck on training duties?"

"as you know, instructor martens passed away on our latest expendition. you will train the newcomers just for this week and then you'll return to your duties of being co-captain to the levi-y/l/n squad" goddamn it erwin. goddamn it. it wasn't that she hated the idea of training the newbies, she had done it before. it was that she would be missing the expendition taking place in shiganshina, that she helped plan

"what about this week's expendition? i am the one who planned it"

"levi, hange and i have you covered. he agreed to lead your team by himself, much to his dismay. however i can't imagine anyone better than to train our new soldiers, i promise its an one time thing" erwin suggested and she huffed, falling back in her seat. if it was just for one week then so be it. to be put quite simply, she couldn't say no to erwin and being informed that her absence would be covered was an okay reason for her to worry less about. besides the scouts have been lacking manpower lately and she would feel at ease if she knew that she could contribute on shaping erwin's vision. just what was his vision again?

"you're not too bad at training" an all too familiar voice reverberated through erwin's office. y/n didn't even have to turn her head back to confirm levi's precense as a soft laugh escaped her lips.

"yeah obviously. the training grounds are on the south, that means i'll probably have to leave in a bit so i can arrive early. where is hange? at least we can all have dinner together before i go, right?"

"let's head to the dining area, hange is probably waiting for us with moblit and miche" erwin nodded as he got up and walked past levi and y/n, leaving them behind his trail.

"you'll come back to me in one piece"

"is that an order?"

"yes"

"we're equals now, i don't take orders from you brat" he teased "i had no other plans anyways, who are you going to make tea to when im gone?"

"probably hange and erwin"

"that tea is only for me, i'm gonna haunt your ass" and if it wasn't more obvious that these two had a more profound bond then erwin didn't know. sometimes he swore he could cut the tension with the knife and for the first time he lost a bet to hange. at first he didn't believe that levi and y/n would be getting this close even when the two would be caught staring at each other from across the room.

it was a mutual understanding to everyone that levi and y/n were more than just co-captains.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"eren, you really want to be a scout member, don't you?" y/n spoke softly, crouching down next to the green eyed brunette. she could tell the boy was disappointed that he couldn't use his odm gear correctly, as every time he tried to stabilize himself he'd just turn, feet looking up in the air and head hitting the ground with a thud every time.

"i want to destroy every single titan, captain. i want to kill them all" yeah you're not the only one, she thought. just then it hit her that many of those kids in front of her were present to that fateful day. most of them had lost their family and friends during the incident and she could tell from the determination in their eyes that they would go far.

"i trust you eren" she got up and walked over a beautiful girl with jet black hair that reminded her of levi's and a red scarf, leaving eren still dangling upside down "dear, can you lend your odm mechanism to eren? i suppose there's something wrong with his" and she was right. as soon as the boy put on his friend's equipment and tried swinging, he was floating like any normal person would. just as she thought.

y/n walked back to the small stage, smiling softly as he heard the excitement reeking from the young group of friends. at the end of the day they were just kids being kids. training was hard but they've had enough of their childhood pried away from them. little moments like these never hurt. she wished that one day kids wouldn't have to be forced away from their families and trained only to die by the jaws of titans. maybe one day they would be free from this curse. and maybe then, she could open that tea shop she always wanted. maybe levi would stick around and help her too.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"maybe you should think twice about kicking the shit out of my students" her tone on a fine line between bored to death and teasing. that trial was awfully draining and boring. since when did everyone think they could share their opinion on something they have zero knowledge on? still noone knew how to handle a titan shifter but the military police thinking they had a say in this was just a poorly written joke "besides i haven't given my testament yet"

"go ahead"

"we can use the kid to our benefit. killing him would only cause more harm and i believe it would be a serious mistake to do so. honestly he could just turn into a titan right now and kill us all for all i care. i don't see how this would benefit either parties. anyways, i said what i had to say. there are people in here with absolutely zero knowledge over titans, why are we letting them do the talking? correct me if im wrong" her cold gaze met levi's across the room as she support her weight with her elbows on the stool "go on, im curious to see how this ends"

captain y/l/n never failed to stun everyone wherever she stepped foot in. both from her beauty and boldness. in this situation, the latter was enough to turn heads her way. levi absolutely hated that. first and foremost because she deserved much better than the lewd stares of strangers upon her ethereal beauty and last but not least due to her well...controversial choice of words and audacity. even if he admired her bravery, he knew sooner or later she would get in trouble.

after the judge concluded the trial and the decision that eren would be now apart of their team, the entire squad were lead into a conference room to discuss important matters, like controlling eren's titan abilities and a formation plan for their next move to regain the shiganshina district.

"please just tell me noone else here is a titan, save me from the embarrassment"

"uh... i hope i am the only one captain y/l/n" eren said as hange offered him a cloth to clean his face from the open wounds levi's boots had caused.

"well eren jeager can we trust you to save humanity?"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"do you think this is going to end well?" levi turned around to meet her eyes but she was staring far off into the night sky "i know eren has shown us that we can trust him, but it's different. we've never seen anything like this before. i feel like something bad is going to happen soon and i don't know, i'm scared" huffing she took another sip of her tea that had now gone cold "this is only the beggining. the titans that infiltrated wall maria are still out there and we don't know if we'll be able to take them. maybe there's no coming out of this one"

"stop saying stupid shit like this" he snapped, making her side eye him "i mean, i feel like this too, don't be so pessimistic about it"

"i cant believe this sentence just came out of you? am i talking to the same levi?"

"shut up. i trust you enough not to die, so don't. tomorrow after we catch the female titan you'll come back to me. i don't even want the smallest of bruise on you" levi was so vulnerable during moments like these and she treasured the fact that she was the only person in this world to see him at this state.

"if you want me alive that much then i have no choice, do i?"

"i want you"

huh?

"i want you alive" there was a slight tint of red contrasting the paleness of his skin and yet she missed it due to the darkness that surrounded them.

oh.

"then I'll come back to you and you'll come back to me"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

the forest had never looked as scary and gloomy as it did when the threat of the female titan had subsided and all that was left was to wander around looking for any surviving members of the scouts participating in the mission.

petra, oluo, ganther. everyone had died during the mission and yet she was still there, leaving the survivor's guilt and shame to wash over her. levi was right. no matter how much trust you can put into another person other than yourself, they can be gone in any minute.

"shit" she hissed slowly sitting down on the tree next to petra, who was like a found younger sister to her. her face was stoic, only a few beads of sweat atop of her hairline.

and then she let out the loudest and unsettling scream of frustration she could.

levi was the first to find her, sobbing next to petra's lifeless body. he had never seen her at this state before. even when she tried jumping off the roof she had been so calm and collected, yet now he was seeing a whole another side of her that he wished he never would again. he'd actually rather have his legs eaten by a titan, that would hurt way less. he approached her slowly, making sure he was giving her enough space to back away if she felt uncomfortable.

and then his lips met her hairline as her hands desperately grasped the clothing on his back, trying to keep herself grounded. his hands were instantly being wrapped around her waist, gripping her tightly so she could not slip and kept his lips on her scalp. no words were needed to be spoken and as he felt her loosen up he laid one final kiss on her forehead and cupped her cheeks softly making her look into his eyes.

"i failed"

"it's not your fault, calm down, i've got you, noone can hurt you"

"they're all dead" he nodded, still caressing her soft skin "it should have been me" something about her talking like that ticked him off, it scared him how she would never think about how valuable her life was then in just a second, his whole demeanor against her changed and he pushed her away, not hard enough to hurt her, yet hard enough to make her lose her footing.

"i told you to cut the shit" his tone had also changed to his ice cold , the one he would use when speaking to everyone that wasnt her "what the fuck was that for? you think that you dying would be any better? i would rather everyone in this fucking world die right now if it meant that you'd still be here and i don't care what you have to say" levi was selfish. he was so selfish when it came to her "stop acting like a pathetic bitch"

"our whole squad just fucking died, and you keep talking about me being alive and im the pathetic one here? just shut up" they were both angry and neither could recall any other time in which they have spoken such harsh words to each other "you should've let me jump off that fucking roo-" he was pushing her again, this time against the tree with his hands around her neck "what the fuck are you doing?"

"shut the fuck up" using her whatever strength she had left she kicked him away taking, a moment to catch her breath and before she knew she was pinned back against the tree "im not a monster, i cared about them just as much as you did" he spat "i dont care about them as much as i care about you and i fucking hate it so if you plan on putting others above your own life then dont bother fucking talking to me again"

"um- excuse me, captain levi? captain y/l/n?" what now? "we-they told us to come pick up the bodies" the terrified soldier saluted at the captains that were literally about to rip each other to shreds just seconds ago. levi took a step back and turned around to head back to where the rest of the survivors had gathered.

"go ahead" her glare shot knives into his back "you coming, y/l/n?" he asked stopping to look back at her. just what had gotten into him? why was he so harsh all of a sudden? she nodded and picked up her pace to reach him.

and as they walked between the high trees, neither realized how or when their fingers ended up linked to each other's once again..

part 3 coming soon...

UNHINGED (m)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Summary-> The corporate recession has your company grovelling for funds.

As the relegated chief operating officer, you have to bear the brunt of seeking out an enterprising and successful shareholder who can revive your company for posterity.

As a sorry state of affairs, you're compelled to enlist the CEO of Jeon Enterprise for his help. However, The question remains.

Just how much convincing are you willing to do?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Part: 1 of 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Pairing: Yandere Jeongguk x Female Reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Yandere

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Warnings for both parts: Power Imbalance, Blackmailing, Manipulation, inebriation, smut, fingering, groping, penetration, some nasty stuff, light choking, a few corporate jargons, jk is a dick who is smitten with oc, jk is selfish asf, threats of violence (not against OC).

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Word count: 2.1k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Disclaimer: This is a two-shot which delves into themes that may be triggering or dark in nature. It is important to note that the behaviors portrayed by Jungkook are purely fictional and do not reflect his real-life character. Reader discretion is advised. Minors are discouraged from engaging with this content. Remember, plagiarism is a serious offense.

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°˖➴°

"This is unbelievable", you lament, hunched over your desk.

"How did the stocks plummet so much?"

"Miss. L/N, The stock market is a gamble." Mr. Kwon offers.

"I am aware of that Mr. Kwon. But the risks we took were calculated." You massage your temples, grumbling defensively under your breath.

The predicament at hand induced mixed emotions in you. On one hand, you were anxious. Anxious for the employees who have a family to fend for, the news headlines they'll be witnessing and the confrontation you'll need to have with the stakeholders.

On the other, less dominant hand, you felt uncannily relieved.

Ever since your company, Jubilee and Co, invested in the share market with you at the helm, you've been waiting for something to go awry.

Simply, because you couldn't fathom anything remotely auspicious happening under your leadership. Not because you didn't have faith in your capabilities. No.

It was because you've gotten the short end of the stick from life so often that you've grown accustomed to it.

And now that your trepidations have borne fruit, you feel the weight being lifted off your shoulders.

Gingerly clutching the cup of coffee perched on your table, you take a sip. This was not the time to wallow in self pity.

"Mr. Kwon, prepare an excel sheet that has all the consolidated data of the company's capital. We can't afford any delays. I have to begin looking for plausible shareholders."

You could feel the soreness kicking in, as you knead the knots in your shoulder.

It was gonna be a long day.

..............................................................................................................................

You peer at your phone's self camera for the umpteenth time.

Huffing, as you rake your fingers through your hair. Everything about your outfit seemed off but scrounging for a better one would take an eternity. You were living on borrowed time as it is.

"Miss. Y/N L/N, Mr. Jeon is ready for you."

You stand upright, hands clenching the portfolio in your hand futilely, your heels scuffing across the floor of the hallway.

Navigating through the huge corridor, you spot the door of the room where the incumbent CEO sits.

Knocking lightly, you speak "Mr Jeon?"

"Come in."

His husky voice beckons.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you step into the room.

And as soon as you do, you're rendered awestruck by the cabin.

It has expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the bustling city below.

The golden hour sunlight streaming in through the blinds.

The walls, adorned with exquisite golden motifs, which no doubt must have cost a fortune.

Fitting for a billionaire like him, you suppose.

Right in the center of the room is a rich mahogany desk, cluttered with documents.

Perched behind the desk is Jeon Jeongguk, the formidable CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It is renowned globally as the only firm which deals with technological ergonomics. Their unparalleled success transcended borders, setting the standard worldwide.

Needless to say, Jubilee and Co was a far cry from Jeon Enterprises.

You've read enough tabloids about the cold, formidable CEO to know what might transpire.

On behalf of your company's stakeholder, you'll ask him for help. He'll eye you incredulously, disdain marring his face before he politely calls the security guard to escort this deranged woman out.

You're taking a leap of faith coming here and hoping a tech tycoon like him even spares you a glance.

You hear him take a sharp intake of breath, prompting you to look at him.

His mouth was slightly agape, eyes widened, as he stared at you from across the room.

His gaze trailed your dainty form from top to bottom, eyes darkening the more they consume you.

You shudder.

You should have taken time to look for a more flattering outfit. Or maybe your hair was dishevelled?

Clearing your throat, you politely ask him, "May I take a seat, Mr Jeon?"

Caught off guard, Mr. Jeon suddenly stands up before motioning for you to sit.

"Please do, Miss...?"

"Y/N L/N." , you supply.

"Y/N..." His dulcet voice repeats your name, as though in a trance.

There was an eerie tension in the room but you would be damned if you let it get to you and lose this golden opportunity.

"As the chief operating officer, I'm here to represent Jubilee and Co."

This was it.

This was the part where you'll be catapulted out of the building by big and buff security men--

"How may I be of assistance to Jubilee and Co. today?"

You blanch.

Out of all outcomes you were expecting would ensue your introduction, this was the most unexpected one.

You were not prepared for this, how do you broach the proposal of an alliance now?

Quickly gathering yourself, you resume.

"We are honoured you have decided to give us the time of the day, Mr Jeon."

"Don't mention." His tone, though professional, betrayed a hint of eagerness.

"From what I presume, you're here to ask for an affiliation." He continues.

"Your stakeholders want Jubilee and Co to become a subsidiary under Jeon Enterprises."

You were tongue tied.

Mr. Jeon was an astute man. You'll give him that.

"Yes, sir. That is correct."

"And why, exactly, should I invest in a company that is, for a lack of better word, in shambles? Inundated with abysmal employees", He rejoinders.

You wince. No matter how true his word were, they were acerbic.

Jubilee was like a baby to you.

You've gone through hell to make it transition from a tier 3 brand name to a decently esteemed firm. You've spent countless sleepless nights looking after it, skipped meals to tend to it's wounds.

Chagrined, you speak before your brain can process your words.

"I understand your concerns, Mr. Jeon. But Jubilee is more than just its current state. It's a testament to resilience, to the countless hours of dedication and hard work put in by its employees, including myself."

Your gaze meets his, vulnerability shining in your eyes.

"Yes, we may have faced setbacks, but we've also overcome them. I believe that adversity often presents the greatest opportunities for growth. I understand your reservations, Mr. Jeon, but I urge you to consider the untapped potential within Jubilee. With the right investments and guidance, I firmly believe that it has the potential to rise from its current situation and flourish once again."

A hush falls over the room.

Jeongguk's gaze remained unwavering, fixed on your face throughout your entire tirade.

"Consider me convinced, Miss. Y/N."

"S-Sir?"

"I guarantee. Jubilee's stock will be restored, funds will be augmented, and brand reputation will be unrivalled. The employees that will henceforth be inducted will be recruited by my personal hiring team."

You can barely hear the rest of his sentence, already thrumming with excitement. Your mind plotting all the ways you can get back at the naysayers.

The resurgence of Jubilee is inevitable, now that you have Jeongguk on board.

"But, you must understand Y/N, there are no free lunches in this world."

And just like that all your dreams come crashing down.

"Pardon, sir?"

Mr. Jeon gracefully rises from his chair, closing the proximity between the both of you as he leans on the front of the desk, positioned directly in front of you.

"I'll accede to all your demands, but I want a fair trade."

Mr. Jeon's words hang in the air. You had hoped for a smooth negotiation, where was this coming from?

"What kind of fair trade are you suggesting, Mr. Jeon?"

A knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he meets your gaze.

"I'll provide my expertise, my resources, to ensure Jubilee's revival," he begins.

"But in return, I ask for something beyond the confines of business."

There is a tacit silence enveloping the room.

The implication of his suggestion is glaringly blatant.

Situations like these were rife in the corporate world. Pleasure in exchange for business gains was not unheard of.

What was however, unheard of, was an employee of Jubilee engaging in such lewd dalliances.

While they were definitely slacking and inept when it comes to work and strategies, Jubilee has maintained a pristine image of possessing the most morally sound employees.

You are caught in a mire.

On one hand, you are disgruntled that he thought you were so shallow that you'll take him up on an offer as promiscuous as that.

But on the other hand, you are convinced this is your only shot at reviving Jubilee. Jungkook's assets and team marshalled together will undoubtedly take Jubilee to unprecedented heights.

"We have a deal, Mr. Jeon."

..............................................................................................................................

"Jeongguk, stop please! Not now, I have to get ready for a meeting."

"I don't renege on my promises, baby girl." He hums, biting your lower lip as his hands fondle your clothed chest.

"And I expect the same from you, yeah?"

The past few months have been very conducive for Jubilee.

As expected, with Jeongguk's acumen & assistance, the company is practically thriving, now in a league comparable to the unicorns.

And it had to be. You've traded yourself for its prosperity after all.

"Fuck", the expletive rolls off your tongue as a strangled moan.

His palms knead the flesh as he grinds his hips on your clothed pussy.

"You're so pretty, my baby. Got me wrapped around your little finger like a hormonal fucking teenager."

He grunts in your ear as one of his hands find purchase on your hip, the other smoothly lifting your pencil skirt to stroke your thigh.

"Kook, I c-can't"

He is terse as he pants, "Yes, you can. You will do everything I ask you to, am I clear?"

"Y-Yeah"

"Good girl" He dotes.

Unbuttoning your top and latching his tongue onto your now bare nipple.

"Stop teasing Kook, touch me already. I'm so fuckin' wet"

He grins as he resumes his ministrations on your inner thigh, cheekily peering up at you from where he is stationed, between your breasts.

"Someone's needy."

You huff exasperated, placing a hand on his as you halt him.

"Fine, I'll just ask Taehyung for help. He won't deny me anyways."

All air escapes you as you're suddenly jerked, your bare back meeting the wall with a thud.

You open your eyes at the sudden movement.

Jeongguk's laborious breath is laden with ire.

Eyes closed. Jaw clenched.

His previous playful beam, nowhere to be found.

He takes in a deep breath before opening his eyes.

They're the darkest you've ever seen them. Pupils enlarged to an extent that his eyes appear pitch black.

You fucked up.

His hand comes up as he lightly chokes you, not enough to hurt you but enough to cause a pool of wetness dripping down your thighs in its wake.

"Say shit like that one more time and see me burn that fucker alive."

"You have the fucking audacity to even think of another man, when yours is right in front of you? Don't you fucking forget who you belong to Y/N. You're fucking mine. Body, Heart and Soul. You've sworn your loyalty to me. You've surrendered yourself to me completely the day I agreed to buy that shitty company of yours."

Your panties are completely drenched at this point and you're unsure if its because you're turned on or petrified of how vexed he has become by the mere thought of you with another man, even though you had said it in jest.

Without any preamble, his fingers prod at your entrance as he sinks them in. Your walls embracing him like second skin.

"Even your tight little pussy isn't yours anymore. It belongs to Jeon Jungkook.”

He slaps your pussy immediately after, as though proving his point.

“And I don't fucking share, so you better pray to any deity you worship that I don't fucking catch you masturbating or so help me god."

He fingers you passionately. Not stopping even after you plead him to.

"T-Too sensitive, K-Kook."

Unbuckling his belt, He pulls out his penis. It stands tall, proud and red with pre cum oozing out of the tip.

You grab him for stability as he pushes the tip in, letting your walls adjust and clamp before he brutally picks up his pace.

"Tell me who you belong to." He bellows.

Too out of it, you fail to form a coherent response.

THWACK.

He slaps your ass hard.

Once. Twice. Too many times to count.

"I-I'm yours Koo, only yours." you manage to say, eager to cajole him.

"Damn right you are." He hums, seemingly placated with your answer. Picking up his pace, he spits in your mouth, meshing his tongue with yours, while his fingers play with your clit.

You feel the familiar warmth below your cervix, as you groan,

"C-Cumming"

He gently pats your hair, kissing your earlobe.

"Let go, baby."

As you ride off your high, too blissful to pay attention to your surroundings, you don't notice the way Jeongguk's gaze darkens.

............................................................................................................................

Part: 1 of 2

“©© All rights reserved to @sunshine-and-kookies. No translations permitted without explicit authorization.”

Serving The Devil - MainList

Genre: Enemies to lovers (?), boss x employee relationship, eventual smut, angst

Warnings: Yandere trends, possessiveness, abuse of authority, explicit language, controlling Taehyung, sweet reader, DUBCON, violence, abusive relationship

Pair: Idol! Kim Taehyung x Staff! Reader

Summary: Each of the BTS members has their own personal assistant, that person responsible for keeping their costumes clean, making sure they stick to all the schedules of the day, make payments to gossip sites whenever something that shouldn't be publicized comes out in magazines... Anyway, it does everything from buying their food to cleaning their apartments.

And you, as Kim Taehyung's assistant, on top of that, have to deal with his complicated personality and his constant task of complicating your work. You think your boss hates you, but on a trip to Paris things can change.

Prologue

Chapter I - In July

Chapter II - Coming soon

Chapter III - Coming soon...

divider by @straywords

tag list:

@ymrai @oldermenluverrr @appachicken @taenosaurrr @prajusstuff @happyyappysworld @jooniesbigroundtiddies @evil-ian @hishrvkajajquv @turnthepageandbeburnt @softie00 @peachescream1723 @israak @bluelesbiann @asecrethideoutforapersonlikemeh

masterlist | jjk

am i okay? no lmao, heres too many jungkook fics main masterlist

series

dextrocardia | cop!jk x f detective!reader, undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, [a] [f] [s], ongoing

↳ 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.

01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

between takes | porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader, porn star au, [f] [a] [s] complete ✔️

01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07

↳ as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he’s not the only thing that’s hard.

drown for you | siren!jk x f reader, sci-fi, merman/siren au, [f] [a] [s] ongoing

↳ there was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. all you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.

evolution of a lover’s heart | fuckboy!jk x f reader, college au, bet au, [f] [a] [s], complete ✔️

↳ the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins. 

part one: the lover 01, 02 

part two: the beloved 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08

drabbles (on patreon): piercings, accidents, …

to tame a god | alpha!jk x f reader, werewolf au, [f] [a] [s], complete ✔️

↳ jeon jeongguk is the youngest alpha his pack has ever seen, and they all trust him with their lives. one day, a strange wolf enters his territory. they know it’s not a regular wolf because just like their own, its eyes shine with the supernatural powers from within. but it won’t shift back to its human form to reveal its intentions.

(preview)  01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06

brown-eyed baby | single dad/dilf!jk x f reader, exes2lovers au, [f] [a] [s], complete ✔️

↳ a lost child at the mall, eyes from a different time.

01, 02

google doc

one-shots

summer nights and morning dew | alpha!jk x f knitter!reader, cottagecore, oldentimes au, [f], [a], 11k

↳ “As if we don’t know where you go every night.”

young spy | spy!jk x reader, mafia au, [a] [f], 11.6k

↳ three down, many to go as bad men are meeting their deaths tonight. the brown-haired one, who’s next in line, has given up his fight. will you make it in time?

wherever there is you | jk x reader, marriage au, [a] [f], 4.6k

↳ anniversary. dinner for two, yet you’re alone. you don’t know where he is.

what money can buy | sugar baby!jk x rich!reader, [f] [a], 17.8k

↳ in need of money, jeongguk signs up as a sugar baby, assuming he’ll be paid for sex by some old kinky woman. he never expected to meet someone like you. what were you doing on that site, and why would you have to pay for company?

deal | demon!jk x reader, [a] [s] [f], 19.5k

↳ what do you do when your teenage brother’s cancer is too far gone? well, you summon a cocky crossroad demon to make a deal; your life for Taehyung’s.

dear stranger | ex-firefighter!jk x reader, [f], 3k

↳ lucky you, getting stuck in an elevator, your worst nightmare come to life. lucky you, getting stuck with a stranger.

love you, crazy | boyfriend!jk x reader, [s] [f], 3.1k

↳ “I wish you would write a fic where jungkook wants to get off but you’re not available (for whatever reason) and he gets off by himself.”

or, you’re at a party with a coworker who has the hots for your boyfriend. Jeongguk decides to put an end to her comments once and for all, and he does it through… facetime?

bad delivery | bad boy, delivery guy!jk x reader [c]

↳ “I wish you would write a fic about delivery boy jungkook who everyone thinks is a cool baddie for riding a motorcycle around but it’s a company bike, and he’s just a shy nerd that wears lots of black.”

hell, overtaken | devil!jk x f angel!reader, [s] [a], 251 words

↳ how did an angel conquer hell?

𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟞

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.7K

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, foul language ( 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 ), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬).

| 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

𝐂𝐡.𝟏| 𝐂𝐡.𝟐 | 𝐂𝐡.𝟑 | 𝐂𝐡.𝟒 | 𝐂𝐡.𝟓

-

Silence swept into the space in which you and Yoongi shared; the words he had spoken allowed doubt to settle within your determination. He had read you like an open book, and it made you feel vulnerable. You had to admit he was skilled, being able to read through your façade from just one look. Of course, it was humiliating, and it had left you feeling uneasy to say the least, but you had come to him with a purpose, and you wouldn’t waiver just because he had said what you knew to be true.

that you hated being a Jeon. 

You took a deep breath and glanced around the room ensuring no one could listen into your conversation.

“I see” you began, pressing your lips together nervously. “You're correct, I didn't come to meet you, I already knew who you were before I came to you and yes, indeed it makes me sick to my stomach to admit that I'm married into this family” you confessed which caused Yoongi to raise his eyebrows in surprise. 

He hadn’t expected you to be so forward, to be so vocal regarding your distaste for the Jeon family all while standing in a room full of their loyal comrades. Either you were incredibly dense or really ballsy. Regardless, it intrigued him beyond comprehension. There was something different about you, a drive he couldn’t understand, a hunger in your eyes that he couldn’t avoid.

“Well, what did you come here for exactly?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes on you. 

You were hesitant to reply, in your mind a war between your desires and your logic was brewing. You didn’t know anything about the man who stood before you besides his name and his reasons to hate your husband’s family, could you trust him? or would he turn around and stab you on the back? Perhaps, your avidity to find an ally was clouding your better judgement.

Yet, you were in dire need of help. As much as you trusted yourself and your plan, you were more then certain it was not a task that only you could take on.

“I came to you because I need your help” you advised, holding your head high as the words came from your lips. “You and I both hate the Jeon family for our unfortunate reasons” you spoke, your voice faltering. You recalled the details Ha-yoon had shared only moments before and your heart tightened at the thought of what he had lost.

“I come to you with a proposition” you announced, looking around you as some guests passed by causing your words to come to a halt. Yoongi stood in silence, awaiting the words he knew were soon to come. “I want to make an alliance with you,” you continued, once you were alone. “We both have something to gain from their downfall, why don't we help each other?”

Yoongi’s eyes traveled down to his shoes; he took a drink from the whiskey in his hand as he thought over what you had just said. Yoongi wasn’t someone who needed allies, he was sure he could do bad all on his own but having his enemy's wife make such an offer made him reconsider.

“And what makes you think you can trust me?” he pondered, looking back into your eyes. 

“I don't but it's a risk I'm willing to take if it means I get to be free” you responded without a hitch in your voice. Yoongi nodded, his eyes trailing to the side “I have to congratulate you Mrs. Y/n, you make a compelling argument” he said, a smirk crawling to his lips. 

“I know” you nodded, confidently. “I know that you want this as much as me if not more and, in my opinion, it would be foolish to turn me down” he chuckled at your words, the eagerness that dripped in them reminding him of his own need for retribution. 

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, “I mean what is your plan to put an end to them?”

“That is a conversation for a later time, Mr. Min.” 

“Is that so?”

“First I need to ensure you are on my side,” you said. 

“I like you, you’re smart” he responded, and you smiled. 

“I am” you reassured him “which means I will not lead you to failure.” 

Yoongi stood silent for some time, pondering his decision. He was not used to making deals with strangers, much less entertain such conversations with one but something about you compelled him to break his own rules and your words urged him to agree. You spoke with honesty, something he was not used to in this business. He could see the resolve dripping from where you stood, and it frightened and stimulated him all at the same time. 

“So, what do you say?” You raised your eyebrows, becoming anxious with his silence.

“why not” he shrugged, staring into your eyes with a smirk.

He didn't understand what had come over him, what had compelled him to agree so easily. To trust you in the way he had now but he did, and it was done. There was no turning back, he was not the kind of man who turned on his words or decisions. If he was to be your ally, then that's exactly what you would get. 

“And to honor the beginning of our alliance, I am going to give you a piece of advice” he hummed, finishing the last of his drink. 

“Don't think for a second that I have not been plotting myself” he assured you, stepping closer to where you stood, the small intrusion causing your heart to skip a beat. “You will gain nothing from screaming in anger, ignorant people like the Jeon family will never listen” he whispered. 

“I could create chaos if I wanted to, wipe out half the people in this room, and leave the Jeon’s with nothing” he taunted, your eyes roamed his face, the chilled expression he wore demonstrating he meant every word he said. “Not everything deserves a reaction. If you are angry and humiliated let it breed inside of you because when the moment comes when you get to pull the trigger, it is the only thing that you will have, use it wisely.”

His eyes stared deeply into yours, assuring you comprehended what he said, and you did. You had failed at concealing your emotions, you had unraveled under the pressure of your emotions time and time again and to put the cherry on top you had threatened Jungkook in your very home. The only thing that had saved you was his willingness to underestimate you. 

“I know how vexating it can be to sit next to the people who have ruined your life, to put up a facade for those here who have trapped you and your family in an unbearable situation but never” his stare was sharp and filled with rage “never let them know your next move.”

He leaned in closer, and you could smell his cologne, the fresh and woody aroma causing you to close your eyes in infatuation. “If you are confident your plan will work, which I'm sure mine will” he emphasized “Then there's no need for you to combust” Yoongi concluded. 

He glanced over at your face, the expression of desire that remained there causing another smirk to appear on his lips. He noticed your lack of experience and he was aware that both of you were a means to an end for each other but if you were to be his ally, he needed you to be perfect. there was no room for error, he would turn you into the embodiment of revenge. 

“Play pretend for as long as you can” he pulled away, causing you to open your eyes and look into his eyes again. It’s as if you were in a trance and Yoongi was the snake guiding you through it. “If they want you to be a trophy wife then be a damn Oscar.”

“By the way” he added, reaching his hand to move a strand of your hair from your eyes, the action causing chills to rise on your skin.  “Your husband is approaching, and he does not look happy” he chuckled lowly as he took a step back, burying his hands in his pockets as he positioned himself back into his cool and poise persona. 

You cleared your throat and for a moment you could feel your cheeks heat up. You were sure it was caused by the way he was able to express himself, so confident in contrast to you. It caused something to erupt in your body, a nerving yet exciting feeling and you couldn't get enough. 

Never in a million years did you think you would be looking up to a man like Yoongi. There was still so much you didn't know about him but the longer you stood there, the more you understood him. He was willing to enter a room with people he knew loathed him and yet, was able to remain unphased, as if he was untouchable.

You still had so much to learn about this world and if Yoongi was willing to teach you then you were just as willing to learn.

“Wait how can I contact you again?” you asked urgently.

“don’t worry, ill find you” he grinned.

you heard quick and heavy footsteps approaching and your eyes remained locked with Yoongi’s as he gave you a knowing nod. You smirked as you gave use to his advice, the Y/n who would usually react or shift in uneasiness was no longer present. Instead, you remained calm and controlled.

“Hey,” Jungkook spoke as he arrived, wrapping his arm around your waist. You could immediately tell this was not the usual theatrical touch of affection he usually gave when in the public eye. No, this one was different, the way his hand clasped around your waist, tight but not tight enough to hurt you, almost as if he was claiming you.

His eyes pierced into Yoongi, and you couldn't decipher his stare. Was he angry? Jealous?

No, he was threatened. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere” Jungkook huffed, planting a small kiss on the side of your head. You were taken back by the sudden showers of affection; he had demonstrated more warmth towards you tonight than he had the entire year you had been married. He was putting on his best show and it was ridiculous. You wanted to shove him across the room, but you held yourself together, mustering the biggest smile you could fabricate. 

Two could play this game.

“Oh, have you?” you asked, your eyes furrowing in confusion. “I've been here all this time, my love” You wanted to choke at the last words that fell from your lips, but you refrained, swallowing harshly. 

“I can see that '' Jungkook spoke bitterly, his eyes never leaving Yoongi. Yoongi held Jungkook's stare, a taunting smile playing on his lips. “I was just getting to know Mr. Min here, why on earth have you never introduced us?” you asked. 

You took note of Jungkook's discomfort as he took the tone of your voice. It was pitched and excited and he had never heard you sound so gleeful. his hand trembled against the fabric of your dress, and it caused a sense of joy to bubble within your gut. He was fuming and you loved every little second of it. 

“Mrs. Y/n is delightful” Yoongi spoke, his eyes meeting yours for a short moment then falling back on Jungkook. “Yes, I'm aware my wife is extraordinary” Jungkook hissed, making his distaste of the interaction known.

“I have some other guests I would like to introduce you to” he informed you, his stare only on you now. You looked up at him, holding onto a wide grin for dear life. Yoongi held back on a chuckle that threatened to rip through his chest as he watched you struggle to be passive, clearing his throat to grab your attention. 

“It was a pleasure, Mrs. Y/n” he smiled, a smile you knew held a secret only you two knew. “I hope to see you around more often,” he concluded. Yoongi reached for your hand and held it up to his lips, planting a small kiss on the skin there.

You could feel Jungkook’s glare burn into the both of you and a sudden wave of adrenaline came over you. Following this plan had never brought you such enjoyment, it had always been laborious and exhausting but now, you had found a new sense of pleasure.

Jungkook didn't bother to say any goodbyes, as he ripped you away from the spot in which you stood. His steps were rushed and heavy as he walked away, having you struggle to keep up. “Jungkook, could you please slow down?” You called after him but when he turned you noticed his angered eyes, pure rage pouring from his pores as he looked down at you. 

“Why were you speaking to him?” he almost yelled. You had never seen him like this, the man who you knew to be stoic had completely disappeared and in his place was now a man unable to contain his anger. The sight alone caused a thrilling rush within your chest and yes, maybe you were crazy, but you couldn't help but feel accomplished. 

“What's wrong?” you asked, innocently Tilting your head in fake confusion. He huffed, his eyes scanning the room before falling back on you. “Do you know who he is?” he asked, his steps coming to a complete stop. His cheeks were flushed, and his breathing had become labored leaving him unable to hide the absolute irritation flowing through his veins. 

“How would I know? I barely know anyone in this room” you spoke simply, a small smile hiding behind your puzzled stare. You were in complete awe at his sudden reaction and for a moment, all you desired was for someone to hand you a camera to capture this moment forever.  

You never wanted to forget it, the utter frustration that he now carried. It fed into your hunger, and you wanted more. 

“Never mind” he sighed “just don't speak to him again” he reached for your hand and held it in his, the skin of his palm red and warm against yours. the contact made you jolt, you weren’t accustomed to being constantly touched by him, it was more than rare, and you wondered why he felt so comfortable doing so.

Sure, the purpose of this evening was essentially to celebrate your one-year anniversary and you had expected the usual touch of affection but the way he was holding you, reaching for you it was not the act you were used to. He led you through the room, almost pulling you as he continued his fast pace. 

It was then that you understood that Jungkook had met his match, to him you were just a wailing spoiled brat, someone whom he didn’t think twice about underestimating but Yoongi, Yoongi was different. Jungkook was smart enough to not undervalue his opponent. Yoongi was powerful and influential just like him and that he couldn't ignore.

His touch was an act of declaration that you were his wife.

You knew it was not because he cared or wanted to protect whatever relationship it was you shared, it was entirely for his ego, but you didn’t care. You were fulfilled. you were just a step closer to your freedom and to say you were happy was an understatement. Nothing, not even Jungkook’s childish behavior could take that from you.

“Hey! There you are” the man who you came to know as Taehyung spoke from a small circle which Jungkook led you to. you rolled your eyes at the way he held you as if you were his possession. His hand tightly grasped yours as if you could slip away at any moment, but you didn’t protest, you remained silent and willing even if you wanted to pull away.

If you had learned anything tonight, it was that for your plan to work you needed to be tame. You would bow in obedience even if it made your skin crawl. Forgotten were the days you would unravel in anger and agony. The broken and weak woman who reflected in your mirror had ceased to exist.

Every move would be calculated, and above all else, you would wear the disguise of a loving wife. You needed to be in control, no longer would you beg for consideration or sympathy. You didn’t need those things anymore.

You smiled as you approached Jungkook’s friends, allowing him to stand beside you like the proud husband he pretended to be, his arm wrapping tightly around you once again.

“Hello everyone, I would like you to meet my wife” he announced, a small smile playing on his lips. It almost felt like he was showing off an expensive car or a new Rolex, the way they all stared at you as if you were an object. You offered a bright smile, your cheeks burning from the strain you were causing on them. 

“Y/n,” you said, separating from the title of just ‘wife’ and allowing yourself to feel less like an item and more like an actual human being. They all greeted you with a small wave and quick smiles except for Taehyung. His smile was radiant in contrast with the others who surrounded him, he focused his eyes on you almost as if he was drinking you whole.  

He appeared to glow amidst the dark and tense environment, his eyes expelling a certain genuineness that you couldn't quite put your finger on. “Kim Taehyung,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. He extended his hand which you took in yours, giving it a soft shake.

“It's great finally putting a face to the name” he chuckled which caused you to smile, a real smile. You felt at ease while you stood in front of him like you didn't have to pretend to be anything or anyone under his gaze and you noted how dangerous that was. He had a way of making you feel like you were the only one standing in the room with him.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you Mr. Kim” you replied. 

“Oh please, call me Taehyung” he smiled again “Those kinds of formalities make me feel suffocated” You laughed, a real laugh. “Jungkook here had you hidden away” he exclaimed, looking over at his best friend who stood in silence. Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed. 

“You weren’t even here for the past year, Tae” Jungkook stated, a tone of annoyance and amusement in his voice. You furrowed your brows for a moment, opting to listen to their banter.

“It wasn’t even that long” Taehyung protested. They both chuckled and you realized it was the first time you had ever heard Jungkook genuinely laugh. He sounded like a kid with no worries, his laughter was carefree and contagious. Not one that taunted you or one that was used to conceal his emotions but a laugh that poured out of him because he truly felt like laughing and for a moment, it made you smile. 

“Yeah, you were only supposed to be gone for 3 months” Jungkook exclaimed which only caused Taehyung to laugh harder. “Come on, we all knew I wouldn't leave Paris in 3 months” Paris? For a year? You raised your brows, intrigued by the statement.

“Oh, I love Paris. I've been there a couple of times, was it business or pleasure?” you interrogated, ensuring you appeared interested but not enough to make anyone suspect of you. Taehyung grinned, winking in your direction. 

“Maybe a little bit of both” he replied, his answer was vague and left much to the imagination, you could tell he was withholding information underneath his charm. You were more than eager to know what drove him to spend an entire year in Paris. Was it illegal business? Was he trafficking guns or drugs? What role did he play in this business? 

You were consumed with curiosity, it was no secret that everyone here was active in the Jeon’s organization and in order for you to facilitate your plan you needed to know what roles they played, how big of an obstacle they would be to you.

“I miss it, I had so much fun while I was there” you encouraged him, begging him to bite into the bait you had set up. “Well, I didn't get to enjoy much of the city this time around, I mostly went to run an errand” he replied. An errand? What kind of errand? You nodded, attempting to piece together the details he shared. 

“Should we make our way to our table? The dinner will be starting soon” Jungkook interrupted, bringing you closer to his side. Your eye twitched for a moment, feeling a familiar sense of irritation nestling itself in your gut. Could he let you finish a fucking conversation? You wanted to push him off and ignore his comment but instead, you looked up at him with a smile. 

“Could we stay a bit longer?” you asked, unable to conceal some of your frustration within the question. “Yeah, come on man I would love to hear about Y/n’s time in Paris” Taehyung chuckled; you looked back at him.

“As I would yours” you responded, if only he knew.

“Uh I guess yeah” Jungkook responded, doubt in his tone but as you looked back to Taehyung to continue your investigation you heard the loud sound of glass clinging. Your eyes were adverted to the front of the room where Jungkook’s father stood, in his hand a butter knife and wine glass. 

“Welcome everyone, thank you for joining us” he spoke, and his voice caused goosebumps to rise from your skin. You hated everything about the man. His voice and his face, his arrogance and his lack of emotions. You weren't surprised Jungkook had turned out the way he did. Looking at his father was as if you were staring into the eyes of the devil himself. 

“I would like to ask for you to take your seats, as dinner will be starting soon” he instructed, quickly everyone followed his command, dispersing to separate areas in the room and taking their seats in their designated tables. you were stunned at the way he had controlled the room, everyone acquiescent to his instructions. No one who was presently here would ever question the man and it made you shudder.

Taehyung sighed in disappointment and pressed his lips together “well, it seems we will have to hold this conversation at a later moment.” You hummed in agreement and felt Jungkook remove his arm from your waist and take your hand in his. “It seems so” you spoke and even if you had tried, you couldn't remove the dismay that your voice carried. 

Both you and Jungkook said your goodbyes and he led you towards the table that sat in the middle of the room. It was much larger and decorated then the rest, it was visible this table had received the most attention which meant it was specially set up for the Jeon’s. He pulled out your chair whilst you stood beside him, but your eyes remained around the room, trying to find Ha-yoon. 

“Take a seat” he whispered into your ear. You snapped your neck to look at him, stunned at how close he had gotten, you cleared your throat and did as told, slipping into the chair. He stood silent for a moment, noticing how tractable you had become. he blinked in suspicion, this wasn’t you. you were impulsive and defiant, and the shift concerned him. He shook the thought away, maybe you were just putting on your best behavior for tonight. Right?

He took the seat besides you and quickly reached for the champagne glass that waited for him, filled to the top. He looked back to you a second time and noted how confident you appeared in your seat, he knew you hated these kinds of events but tonight, you appeared to be enjoying every bit of it. He looked away quickly, taking a drink from the glass whilst his mind raced with questions.

you scanned the room, trying to find Ha-yoon amongst the unfamiliar faces in the room. You had left her to fend for herself and you felt immense guilt. You had been too consumed with your own desire to even realize that you had left her alone in a room full of criminals. Your eyes landed onto the bar and finally found her face, a sigh of relief falling from your lips when you confirmed she was okay. She sat with a drink in her hand, her head thrown back as she laughed with one of the waiters. At least, she was having fun. You made a mental note to apologize later for your carelessness. 

“Would you look at the happy couple” you withdrew your attention from Ha-yoon and focused on the man and woman who approached the table. Jungkook stood up and placed down his glass of champagne before bowing in front of his parents. you abstained from rolling your eyes and instead, stood up as well. You mimicked Jungkook’s actions and took an unwilling bow. The man who now stood in front of you didn’t deserve your respect but if you were to pretend to be amicable then unfortunately it was what you needed to do.

Jungkook’s father reached forward and patted his son on the back with a small chuckle. “What an evening this has been” he commented which gained him a smile from Jungkook. You knew your husband was feeling elated from the rather dull action. As it was his life’s purpose to make his father proud and he would’ve stopped at nothing to make it happen. He followed every command his father gave, incapable of ever defying him.

“It has been, Y/n and I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for us” Jungkook stated, and you struggled to keep the odium from your eyes as you looked towards him. You weren’t thankful, in all honesty you thought all of this was just a circus act. You would’ve preferred to be set on fire in the middle of a desert than to be here Yet, instead of contradicting Jungkook you nodded and smiled pleasantly.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Jeon everything is so beautiful.”

“It was nothing, it’s the least I could do” he spoke confidently.

The least he could do?

You had a long list of things he should’ve done, perhaps like not giving your father money to launder.

You hummed and took your seat, unable to keep up the obsequious act any longer. A thank you from your lips was all that he would get and even that you considered to be extreme. You watched as they took their seats next to Jungkook.

You dazed off as you heard the two men converse next to you, not bothering to listen in to anything that was being said. You knew they wouldn’t hold any important conversations in this room, Jungkook’s father loved his discretion and if he were to talk about his business it wouldn’t be in a place just anyone could hear. 

How you would adore being a fly on the wall in his office, though. 

“Hello everyone” you recognized the soft voice that floated in the air, it was the same voice that would calm you down from a tantrum, the same voice that sang to you at night when you were a child. a tightness soon formed in your heart as anxiety gripped you from all sides. Your eyes lifted from the piece of paper before you and in front of you stood your parents. You knew they would be in attendance, but seeing them now, within reach caused a wave of emotions to come crashing inside of you.

They looked elegant, your father wearing a black suit and your mother a beautiful red gown, you noted how content they appeared. Of course, how could they not as they took their seats besides you, unaware of their daughters' sacrifice. You felt yourself shrink in your seat and your heart began to race in your chest. You wanted to run, to hold onto the little scraps of self-control you had left but you remained seated.

You couldn’t allow them to have this much affect on you, you couldn’t allow them to affect you at all.

“Y/n” your father spoke, a small smile laying on his face and for a moment, you wanted to reach forward to embrace him. to tell him how much you had missed him, to cry on his shoulder like you used to. It had been so long since you had seen them, and you had wanted it to remain this way, only then could you avoid feeling the way you did now. Cutting off contact was the only method you had to keep the last bit of your sanity, knowing that they had sold you off into a despicable family had put a strain in your relationship.

Even if they were oblivious to the truth.

“Father” you responded, lowering your gaze when you felt his eyes on you. You needed to hold your composure even if deep inside the only thing you wanted to be was his little girl again, even if all you wanted was for him to protect you. “Mother” you then said, you looked up into her eyes and she held your gaze.

Inside you were screaming for help, pleading for them to come save you.

“You look beautiful” she said, and you could hear the way she choked on the words, tears beginning to form within the eyes that were similar to yours. “As do you” you responded formally, holding back on the whimper that sat on your tongue. 

The night didn't feel as victorious anymore, instead you were now consumed by melancholy. You had never been able to understand what had led to this, you were a good daughter. The father that you knew would’ve never done this to you and the mother that nurtured you for so long would’ve never allowed it. nothing was more painful than grasping onto the version of who they used to be.

 Jungkook stared at you, hoping that for a moment you would crack. He could see the pain through your eyes, noticed your hands trembling underneath the table. Yet, to his disdain you kept your cool demeanor all while constraining your tears back.  

“I'm glad that we can come together like this, we should do this more often,” Jungkook's mother said which caused everyone to nod in agreement, everyone except for you of course. If it was up to you, you would never share the same room with these people again.

It was suffocating.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how is marriage?” she added, and you knew the question was directed towards you and Jungkook. You fidgeted uncomfortably in your seat, eyes scanning the table for a moment. It was a cruel question, she couldn’t have been that oblivious to the situation, right? You would’ve been open to talk about the way your marriage had broken you, the way it had you feeling like you were at the edge of a precipice, but you knew it wasn’t the answer that she wanted. Before you could form a coherent answer, you were stopped by the sound of Jungkook’s voice. 

“It’s been great” he reached for your hand that laid on your lap under the table and covered it in his. Your eyes remained on your hands interlinked for a moment, unable to process what was happening. “I’ve never felt such harmony and happiness and it’s all thanks to my wife” he lied, looking over at you. You scoffed and chuckled as everyone smiled approvingly. Gleaming at the fraudulent marriage Jungkook spoke of. 

You didn't dare look at him, knowing that once you looked into his eyes you would be able to notice the way he feigned love and admiration. Did he ever get tired? Of pretending?

“Awe don't be shy Y/n” his mother said, taking your silence for diffidence. In reality you just couldn’t sustain such a lie, you weren’t good at it, at least not as good as Jungkook. Instead, you offered her a tight-lipped smile and removed your hand from Jungkook’s grasp, pretending to hold the menu with it. 

Jungkook’s father cleared his throat and held up his glass of champagne “I would like to make a toast to the union we have made, may we continue to prosper as a family” you could tell his words were a double-sided blade, it let you know that your lack of enthusiasm towards the topic hadn’t gone unnoticed and it made your skin crawl. You reached for your own glass and raised it as well, looking over at him and holding his gaze. 

While they toasted to the union of the family, you toasted for the destruction of it.

You sipped on the champagne, never breaking eye contact with the man who sat beside Jungkook, whilst his eyes held contempt, yours held anger and you both battled for dominance. Once the cool liquid passed your throat, you sighed in pleasure, a grin appearing upon your face. 

You reminded yourself of Yoongi’s words and nodded your head towards him respectfully, putting your champagne glass down. “May we continue to prosper, Mr. Jeon” you bit, and you noticed the way his smile fell. It appeared he was prepared to speak but once his lips parted and he began to form words, the waiters arrived, placing various assortments of food on the table. 

“Oh, this all looks magnificent!” your mother cheered, her voice causing you to withdraw your attention from Jungkook's father. You looked down at the delicious meals that had been prepared but you weren’t eager to break bread with anyone sitting at this table. Instead, you gulped down the rest of the champagne in your glass and signaled one of the waiters to bring you another.

“So…” your mother began with a small smile. “When are the grandbabies coming?” you swallowed harshly. The question was ridiculous. You knew that being a mother was not in the books for you, partly because you had to at least have sex to have a conceive a child and then because you wouldn’t dare bring a life into this mess. 

“Well uhm” Jungkook attempted to answer but the question appeared to be too much for him to handle. “We aren’t ready yet” you announced which caused the table to silence. You could see the disappointment fall upon the faces of both you and Jungkook’s parents at the answer.

“You have been married for a year; I think it’s the perfect time for you to give us a grandchild” Jungkook’s mother suggested. You picked up on the judgmental tone in which she spoke, her eyes glaring into you. Of course, you would be the one to blame for not providing an heir to solidify the unification of both families because who else was to blame, your husband? No, men weren’t blamed for these things. 

“I think she means we are busy, mom” Jungkook clarified, glancing over at you for a moment.

“I mean I understand you are running a business Jungkook, but your wife barely does anything besides go shopping and mingle with her friends during brunch!” The statement left you breathless. How fucking dare she? Everything you did was controlled by them, you wouldn’t be capable of doing anything if it wasn’t up to their standard, to their approval. You were blinded by the outrage ready to spill past your lips, snapping your eyes in her direction.

“don’t be so harsh on her” your mother spoke “though my daughter does not have a business to run she has single handedly gained your family popularity amongst all the elite inner circles, she’s a respected socialite.”

“That is true my dear, Y/n here has gained us popularity which will come in handy to us soon” Jungkook’s father spoke, grinning. You narrowed your eyes in his direction now, a puzzled expression on your face. How would you be of any help to him? if he thought for a second that you would partake in any of his illicit businesses then he was mistaken. Your father might have been an easy target, but you were far less gullible. You knew the kind of people they were, how they delt with their business and it was pure evil.

“How so?” Your father spoke, you took in the eagerness in his question, his willingness to collaborate with Mr. Jeon and you couldn’t avoid the distaste in your mouth. Regardless, you wanted to know the answer too. How would Mr. Jeon use you now, what was it that he needed from a housewife with influence.

“I wanted to hold back on sharing this but since we are here together now it will be far easier to announce the news” he spoke, looking over at Jungkook. “I plan to temporarily resign from my position as chairman of the Jeon company and allow passage for my son to take my place for the time being” you blinked quickly, taken back by his words. Something was off and you knew it and the outer shock written all over Jungkook’s face only further confirmed it.

“What do you mean dad?”  Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows while his father laughed, patting his son on the back. “I am sure you will do great managing the business whilst I’m gone” Jungkook nodded but you could see the apprehension loom over his head.

“Well, what will you be doing instead?” your mother asked this time “are you sick?” Jungkook’s father chuckled loudly, throwing his head back.

“God no” he answered “I’m in great shape which is why I’ve made this decision” he took a deep breath and sighed and this time his eyes fell on you.

“I will be announcing my campaign as governor soon and Y/n here could assist me with her influence, once I’m running it will be hard for me not to win when I have the popular vote” he sneered. You sat completely still, your mind racing with questions. Why would he want to run for governor? He had money, he had power, he ran a multi-billionaire illegal business and now all of a sudden, he wanted to get into politics. Why?

“Do I have your support, Y/n?” he asked and now all eyes were on you. you blinked trying to gather your thoughts. Your eyes searched the room for someone who would know exactly what to do with the predicament you were now facing but you were met with the same wave of unfamiliar faces.

You were sure you wouldn’t help this man in a million years, whatever it was that he was planning you were sure it wasn’t with the best of intentions, and you wanted nothing to do with it. You thought for a moment of how this would help you, but you couldn’t see anything beneficial about it, it was just the Jeon family finding new ways to trap you in their web. Once you found Yoongi, you realized his stare was already on you. You took a deep breath, and it only took him a moment to notice your panicked stare.

What would Yoongi do in this situation? What decision would he make?

Yoongi gave you a slight nod almost as if he knew what you were asking, you furrowed your brows in confusion and looked away, glancing back at Mr. Jeon who sat expectantly for your answer.

‘Never let them know your next move.’

Yoongi’s voice replayed in your mind as you pondered over your answer. you cleared your throat and forced a smile.

“Well of course Mr. Jeon, you have my full support.”

“attagirl” he cheered causing everyone sitting at the table to smile and cheer along with him.

“After my campaign is over, you can have all the babies you want!” he exclaimed like he was granting you permission and your father clamped in excitement. “It will be a fruitful year for sure” your father assured whilst everyone raised their glasses in celebration.

You remained still for a moment and then lifted your own glass.

you were going to ensure he never got what he wanted again, you would take everything away from both him and his son all while smiling sweetly in their face.

No more wins and no more success, and no goddamn grandkids.

-

𝐇𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬! 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝! 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

@ane102,@thisartemisnevermisses,@jamlessstars,@cookysstuff,@gyeomibearr,@multiasf ,@lydinews,@vminkookgf,@chl0buggy, @peterstarkchrishiddleston , @koostrawberry , @jcrl99 , @coree730 , @melodiesforari , @taemond-in-the-ruff , @whoa-jo @jksusawife , @hoseoksluv89 , @piecesofapril11 , @coralmusicblaze , @junecat18 , @amiradumas , @mageprincess7 , @heartjiminie , @parkinglot-nights , @douknowbts , @str4gguk , @sarzkh31, @jjk970971

Seat of Power | jungkook political au 01

pairing: ceo!jungkook x reader genre: political & yandere au

chapter summary: after jungkook’s first encounter with you, he was determined to meet you again even if it’s against your own will. 

chapter warnings: alcohol consumption, undetailed smut, cheating, mention of abuse of political power, political rivalry, mention of corruption and drug operations, jk is showing his yandere tendencies, mention of killing someone word count: 9k

disclaimer: This is pure fiction and I do not condone the acts of Jeon Jungkook in the story. All events and occurrences in this story are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. And also, this fiction will be political.

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