Someone Else's Fiction Cannot Cause You Physical Harm.

🔹 Someone else's fiction cannot cause you physical harm.

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🔹Your emotional well-being is not the responsibility of fiction writers.

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🔹Don't like? Don't read.

Im good!!! Just lifing lol you take as long as you’d like lol its good to take breaks from pumping out such intricate and quality work so you take your time. I was just going through my faves and thought of your writing lol

And girl take your time on my stuff too lol it aint goin nowhere❤️

When im alone in my room, sometimes I stare at the wall and think about STS Kihyun and the stuff he did to that gal in his office 🫠 I dont have a question, I just wanted to tell you that lmao

I hope youre well darling 🥰

BWHAHAHAHAHA, thank you for the thoughts <3

You guys are so good to me, even when I'm lurking and being unfaithful lol. :')

I am doing well. The bigger question is, are you???

I still have to catch up on your stories, doh! This is my reminder then. <3 <3 <3

begging for mercy

characters: tattoo artist!jungkook x client!female reader

summary: you hated everything. you hated his face, his hands, his everything. in particular, you hated the effect he had on you.

genre/rating: pwp. smut (minors dni). 18+.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: needles, jungkook being a lil shit, hands <3, reader hating her life decisions. smut warnings (18+): so much tension, consent, dirty talk galore, pet names, semi-public sex, pain kink, cumming untouched :0, slight cnc?, dom/sub dynamics, slightly mean dom!jk, bratty reader, slapping/spanking, orgasm denial, choking, tad bit of degradation, cum play/eating, finger sucking, unprotected sex (do better), standing sex, hitting it from behind :P, bitting/marking, overstimulation, creampie, jungkook is a cutie lmao (bless him).

a/n: after you read this, you will realise i have no idea what getting a tattoo entails lmao. this is just smut with a sprinkle of more smut. hands are my weakness. sorry :) also, thank you so much for over a hundred followers <3 this whole thing is crazy. feedback is always appreciated so please let me know what you think! what other tropes would you like? disclaimer: i needed to get this out of my system. this was suppose to be short fic, got carried away.

Maybe this situation wasn’t ideal. Scrape that, it was definitely not ideal. But there were a few variables that contributed to your current state of helplessness.

Firstly, the room was freezing as if they wanted to torture your exposed skin. You swore you had frostbite. Now that problem was partially your fault. They had asked you before they began if the temperature was okay, and because you refused to be a bother, you didn’t dare ask them to turn the heating up.

Oh and then there was the pain of the needle being darted into your skin. The other times you sat in this chair, you had no issues with discomfort. But what did you expect, the needle was digging into your ribcage. Oh, yeah, and the worst part, you liked it. A little bit too much.

But the killer were his hands. Now this, was definitely not your fault.

The parlor you had booked was one of the best in the city. And it took months to get in. Unfortunately, the lovely lady you had met for your consultation was out due to a sudden illness. Which left you with two options. Either wait for another three months, or allow Jungkook to do it today. You were mentally prepared for today to be the day, so fuck it, Jungkook it was.

But that was a grave mistake.

It was a big mistake, and in hindsight, you should have waited three months. His gloved hands were everywhere. They touched every inch.

They had touched your back when they guided you into his office. Grazed your thigh when he leaned over to grab a sterile wipe. The back of your neck when they helped you find a comfortable position on the bed. Wrapped around your wrist to lift your arm across your body to give them the necessary access. And now, they were all over your abdomen, pushing and pulling to ensure the accuracy of the needle.

Want to know what pissed you off the most. The consent. ‘Is it okay if I touch this?’ or the ‘can I place my hand here?’. You could’ve said no. Could’ve made his life a living hell. But you genuinely never thought you would ever be this turned on by just hands.

Although you could not see the skin that decorated their stature, you could make out all the pretty features from under the thin black latex. A large palm attached to the longest fingers you have ever seen, joined by sharp knuckles. The digits were thick but incredibly agile.

Let’s not get started on those arms. The coloured ink that ran along its length, your eyes couldn’t stop tracing the outlines. You thanked the higher powers that his biceps were covered by his oversized shirt. But due to his hard grip on the machine, you could see the veins that protruded through his skin.

On top of all that, he had a ridiculously sculpted face. So fucking pretentious. How could someone be so handsome? The strong jawline, the perfect nose, those siren eyes. Even his hair, slicked back, allowing you to admire every detail. It was like he wanted you to know you were in the presence of a fucking god.

And you would be selling your soul to that religion. You swore to worship him until death. No hesitation. Okay, you were done for.

Afraid you were staining the chair below you, you crossed your legs, throwing one thigh over the other.

That stupid eyebrow piercing mocked you, perking up at the action. His tongue poked at his cheek. “You good?”

You hummed, knowing if you let your lips relax, a very inappropriate sound would escape. “Use your words gorgeous. If you are uncomfortable we can take a break.”

The compliment shot straight to your core. The sensation forcing you to shut your eyes. This was utterly embarrassing. You felt pathetic. You just wanted to get out of the place. “No. Keep going.” You gritted.

“Are you sure pretty? It’s okay, I know it hurts. The area is very sensitive—“ “Shut up. Please. Get it over with.”

He was taken aback by your sudden attitude, already missing the good girl that lay before him moments ago. “Hm, okay big girl. Only a few more lines.”

“Those nicknames need to stop.” You pleaded quietly and he just smirked. The audacity.

“Okay, I’ll stop sorry. Just a habit.” He promised, placing a hand on your stomach as he leaned forward to proceed. “I’ll work quickly. Just breathe for me.”

Inhaling, you tried to focus. The pen touched your skin, vibrating against your bones. You whimpered. “Shush, it’s okay. Nearly there.” He encouraged, pressing down on your stomach to distract you from it.

The thoughts immediately flooded your mind. Of him, above you, hand on your lower tummy as he moved his hips against you. “Doing so good.” He continued to praise.

Toes curling, fingernails digging into your palms, you genuinely didn’t think you were going to survive. Nose scrunched as you battled the images but it was no use. The pain, the man, your imagination. Your orgasm prevailed. A miniature wave crashed through your body.

Your bottom lip was attacked by your teeth, thighs tightened, and breath shaky. This was humiliating. Although you tried your best to hide it, you knew Jungkook knew.

He let out a dry cough, pink tongue slipping between his thin lips to wet the surface before playing with the silver metal in the corner of his mouth. It was obvious that he was concealing a laugh.

Eyes began to water. Something like this never happened to you before. You didn’t know how to respond. The last thing you needed to hear was his smug voice. “All done. Look so pretty.”

Unable to look at the man, you kept your eyes closed, sitting up, hands frantically moving to try and pull down your shirt. “Wait, wait! You need aftercare. It could get infected.”

His voice was stern, his hands grabbing yours. They stopped your panicked motions. Wanting to turn into ashes, you turned your head away from him as your cheeks heated. Your skin was burning at the contact. You felt so small.

“Hey, I promise it is natural. You don’t need to be embarrassed, it happens to more people than you think. I promise pretty.”

“I am so sorry. I couldn’t, uh, stop it.”

You sounded so tiny, Jungkook had to ground himself. Wanting to pounce. He was doing well until your little slip-up. The minute he saw you at the reception desk in that short pleated olive skirt, and white tank, he wanted you. It was a sin. Sinful how beautiful you looked. “It’s okay, let me take care of you now. Let me wrap it.”

Nodding, you kept your elbow raised signalling for him to continue. Grabbing a tub from the stainless steel table, he popped the lid, fingers dipping into the substance. “This is going to be cold. Okay?”

Gulping, you braced yourself. He delicately presssd his hand across your freshly inked skin, the coolness of the vaseline made you whimper. Jungkook, leaned closer, breathing hot air on the area to help balance the temperature. “Better?”

You immediately shrunk, body fell into his words. Hypnotising you. “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Intoxicated by his presence, you didn’t even realised he finished up, placing a bandage over your rib. His words were drowned out, you were spaced out. Head on a cloud. A sudden hand on your knee grabbed your attention. “You good?

You snapped your eyes towards him, begging for mercy. The contact on your knee was warm but rough. You immediately noticed the difference from the previous touches, the smooth latex barrier was gone.

Slowly, your gaze drifted, body stiffened when you saw the anticipated honey-glazed hand. Black marks littered it, small tattoos randomly spaced amongst the vast surface. So much prettier than you imagined. Veins galore. Your throat was dry, chest pounding.

“I need you to listen. It is important.” His deep voice emphasised. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” You were sick of it. All of the innuendos. The not-so-innocent comments. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You replied as your eyes slowly, seductively, met his. And then it just slipped out.

“Sir.”

The grip tightened, cheeks hollowed as he sucked his tongue. His memorising gaze traced your body, shamelessly stopping at your chest. You knew your nipples were hard and very visible through your white tee. They had been since you entered into the cold room.

His hand crawled higher, fingers tracing your exposed mid thigh. “Where did that come from pretty girl?”

Your head dropped down to your lap, looking down avoiding his piercing stare. Your fingers tingled, begging to reach out for his. “I don’t know.”

“Look at me.”

His harsh voice caused you to wince. But you didn’t want to disobey. “I need you to look at me when you answer me. If you want this, you need to keep your gorgeous eyes on me. Understood?”

“Yes” you nodded.

Clearing his throat, he leaned down, lips grazed your ear. “Are you forgetting a word?”

Feeling like you were about to faint, head dizzy, your hand flung to his shirt. It grabbed the material around his bicep, clutching it to hold you steady. “Sir.”

“Good girl.” He growled against your earlobe. His tongue slipped along the outline, teeth scraped the surface. “Now baby, let me tell you how this is going to happen.”

You whimpered, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He cradled your head, his fingers spread wide along your scalp. His grip on the roots was intense as he pulled, snapping your neck back, giving you nowhere to hide. He smirked, admiring how pliant you looked in his grace.

“The minute you came to me today, you had me so hard. All I could think about was what I wanted to do to you. Fuck you look so gorgeous. Then you decided to torture me by making me tattoo your ribs.”

Straightening his posture, lip tucked between his teeth, he removed the hand from your hair, trailing it along the tank's strap. “Lifting this flimsy top to give me access. Barely covering your tits. Could see your underboob the entire time. Such a tease. Was that nice of you?”

Your knees bent, needing some friction. His harsh grip still present on your thigh. “No sir.”

He growled. You looked so pathetically beautiful. A lustful gaze in your eyes, body radiating warmth, and breath uneven. Unraveling below him.

“That’s right, it wasn’t nice. So I want you on all fours now.”

Fuck his lower register. It resonated deep within you, forcing you to comply to his order. Your body just reacted. Scrambling, you quickly rushed to place your knees and palms on the leather bed.

Jungkook placed a gentle hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Woah, be careful.” He reminded you as he brought his lips to his covered tattoo, kissing the fresh bandage.

This can’t be fucking real. How is he so sweet yet so demanding.

Your knees buckled, back collapsed to cause your elbows to fall. He immediately grasped your hips to help you regain some balance. “So excited baby. Barely touched you.” He huffed. The tone was mocking you.

“You touched me plenty.” You sassed between gritted teeth.

The hands slid down to the back of your thighs. His wide palms teasing your ass. “Is that right? So you don’t want me to touch you anymore?”

Pushing your hips back against his touch, you whined. “Oh you do? So desperate.”

You heard him move behind you. Hands fidgeting with your skirt as he positioned himself. Your breath hitched, knowing he had a perfect view of your sticky panties between your thighs. The skirt did nothing to help hide them. He hummed in appreciation.

“So fucking gorgeous.” His digits hovering your heat. “We don’t have much time okay? I am going to touch you now. You gotta keep that pretty voice down for me.”

You huffed in frustration. “Got to make me raise my voice first.”

Jungkook growled at your brattiness. In one swift movement, a hand smacked against the exposed skin. Gasping, your chest fell to press against the warm leather. “Let’s get one thing clear doll, you don’t talk back to me like that. I don’t want to punish you. Not today anyways. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl. The best girl. Let me have some fun now. Let me get a taste. If you don’t like anything, tell me to stop okay?”

Whimpering, your heat was pulsing. You needed him, his hands, his tongue, his cock. “Please sir, want it. Want you.”

He sensed your desperation, your neediness. Not denying you any longer, his hands flipped your skirt over your hips. Lips gravitated to your covered core. Tongue poking out to get a taste.

Needing friction, you pushed your hips back against his face. Wincing, you prepared yourself for a spank, but he reacted, pushing back. Hands hooked around your thighs, a strong grip keeping you in place.

He was eating you through your panties. Tongue messy as it explored your folds. You were whimpering and whining, as he continued to tease. He knew that you needed skin-on-skin contact, practically begging for it with your quaking thighs. You could feel him smile against your core. This was cruel. And he knew it.

“I know baby.” He purred, the vibration strong against you. “But you couldn’t be patient could you?”

“I’m sorry, please.” You begged, voice cracking.

Jungkook began to leave a trail of sloppy kisses from your core to the waistband of your panties. He delicately scraped his teeth against your skin, gathering the fabric in his mouth. You moaned, anticipating what he was going to do next.

The material was trailed down your skin, his lips glazing your skin as he finally exposed your wet folds to the cold air. Jungkook took a step back to groan at the sight. Wet, glossy lips, panties bunched around your knees, your ass exposed and perky. His cock throbbed under his jeans. “So delicious. Need a proper taste.”

He dived back in, tongue divulging between your lips. Licking and slurping your juices. His lips slipped down to your clit, sucking the sensitive, neglected bud. His tongue worked relentlessly against you, devouring your essence. Hands caressed the meaty flesh on your ass, playfully squeezing and grabbing.

You were creeping towards the edge, stomach tightening and fists curling into a ball. Your sounds were getting louder, your voice becoming horse. He gave your cheek a harsh slap, warning you to quieten down.

“More.” You cried, right at the peak.

Giving a wide lick up your slit, he stood up straight. “Would love you to come on my tongue, but I have another appointment in 15 minutes.”

His hold pulled you to the end of the bed, manhandling you. “Put your feet on the ground.” He grumbled, unbuckling his jeans.

Climbing down onto the ground, you placed your two feet firmly against the concrete. Wiggling your hips as you peeked over your shoulder, trying to find his touch. He chuckled, loving how needy you were. He threw a hand onto your hip, giving you a bit of attention as he pulled his pants down.

“God you are so pathetic doll.” He muttered. His cock was hard against his boxers. Pleading to be freed.

“Was so close, want to cum.”

“What about me baby? You are so cockdrunk, so desperate, you can’t even think about me? About my pleasure baby.” He spanked your red skin. “Don’t be selfish. If I wasn’t in such a rush, I would edge you until you cried for it to stop.”

A pathetic, tiny sound slipped through your lips. “Oh, you’d like that?” He asked, colliding his body into yours. A hand wrapped around your throat, causing your body to crash against his chest. Hips started to rotate into you, grinding his crotch. “You dirty little pain slut.”

His breath was warm against your ear causing you to shiver. “Play with that little clit for me baby, make sure you are nice and ready for me.” He softly whispered, grip rough against your neck.

Your fingertips began to rub harsh circles on your raw clit. His hips were rutting against you. His throbbing cock pushed into you, pulsating against your ass. Legs were weak as you felt his length. It felt so thick, so firm. You wanted to feel it inside you. Now.

“So wet for you. Please just give it to me.”

Voice was shaky, praying that he would give into your pleas. He bit your earlobe, grunting. The sounds were so enticing, so thrilling. You automatically started to rub faster, harder. Closer to edge.

“Give you what baby?” He teased, slipping his free into his briefs, pulling his member free. He traced the member along your ass, you could feel a wet trail form on the skin.

“Cock. Your cock.” You cried out, borderline screamed.

He squeezed your throat, not satisfied with your little outburst. “Baby, what did I tell you about keeping that voice of yours down?”

“Please, I can’t. Need it.”

“Fuck, I love how pathetic you are. Begging me to fuck you in my workplace. Such a perfect girl.” His hand left your throat, going south, to join yours. His fingers slipped through your drenched core. “Baby you weren’t lying. You are so wet. So ready.”

Your head relaxed against his shoulder, enjoying his touch. Memorised by the moment, his digits poked at your lips taking you by surprise. “Why don’t you go ahead and suck on them baby. I saw you looking at them all afternoon. Bet you were fantasing about them. Wouldn’t you just love to suck on them as I fuck you?”

Head dizzy, you couldn’t process his words. All you could do was part your lips and submit. His digits slipped in, and you gracefully and willingly wrapped your mouth around them. Hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, tasting yourself. So dirty, so erotic.

In a blissful daze, you barely noticed his hard tip poke at your entrance, sliding up and down your folds. Covering himself in you. “Baby, fuck, can I take you raw?”

You hummed, circling your tongue around his long thick digits. Fuck it, deal with the consequences later right?

Using his foot, he kicked your ankle, spreading your legs wide. Easy access. Positioning himself, he lined himself up with your aching core. If someone were to walk in, which was a real possibility, they would lay their eyes upon the most sinful image.

A girl, helplessly rubbing her clit, spit running down her chin as she mindlessly sucked on a beautiful tattooed hand. Ruined panties resting on her knees, legs trembling. Eyes shut tight with anticipation and nerves. Hopeless and vulnerable. It was messy, but beautiful.

Jungkook’s hips pushed forward, penetrating your awaiting walls. Load moans escaped you, thankfully, being muffled by his fingers. Each inch dug deeper and deeper. Filling you up,

You felt so full as his abdomen met your ass. His teeth sunk into your shoulder, trying to conceal his own pleasure. “So tight and warm.” He growled, nibbling and licking at the fresh bite mark.

The hand on your clit froze, brain trying to process the new feeling. He held his position, giving you time to adjust. But you were getting impatient. Needing to feel him penetrate you again.

You flung a hand behind you, fisting his shirt, pulling it towards you. Begging him to move. He complied, wanting to feel your walls convulse around him. “I know pretty thing, I’ll give it to you.”

And with that, the merciless pounding began. His hips snapped against you with an extreme forward, making you jump as he slammed against you. You were panting, brain malfunctioning.

The hand that was on your clit transferred to his wrist, scrapping the inked skin. He hissed at the sensation, giving you a particular hard thrust. “Did I tell you to stop touching yourself.”

You shook your head, releasing your hold on his shirt, bringing it to your front. “Good girl. Best fucking girl. Shit, you love praise don’t you. Sucking me in, barely able to fucking move.”

Tears were building up, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. The pace he set did not waver, abusing your silky walls continuously, endlessly. Your clit was overstimulated from all the rubbing. But it felt so good.

Your back arched, head fell back over his shoulder, as if you were being raised up to heaven. The knot in your stomach growing and growing, until it broke. Eyes rolled to the back of your head, teeth grazing his digits as you tried to silence yourself. “So tight. Clenching me. Are you cumming for me sweetie? What a good girl.”

His words caused you to levitate. You ripped yourself from his grasp collapsing onto the bed in front of you. He slowed his pace, concerned.

But you wanted more. “No one more, please. I want you to cum. Keep going. Kook, please.”

Your whines sent shivers down his spine. But if that’s what you want, that is what you get. A proper brat. “You asked for it. Dumb little girl.”

Palms pressed firmly into your lower back, his hips snapped again and again and again. Balls slapping against your thighs due to the sheer force. Your body sliding against the leather, the friction focused on your clit causing you to lose your mind.

You couldn’t function, no words could leave your mouth, only heavy pants. Your hands reached back, pressing against his lower stomach, feeling the hardness hidden under his shirt. Fuck. He was an actual god.

Jungkook let out a deep moan, throwing his head back as he cursed under his breath. “So good baby, so wet. So messy. Fucking perfect cunt for me. All mine.”

“Yours.”

He howled at your submission, grasping your wrist. “Mine. Chant it, baby, as you cum for me. As you milk me.”

Allowing your forehead to rest against the black chair, you cried as you did as he said. Chanting over and over again that you are his. The words travelled straight to his cock, ruthlessly throbbing against your suffocating walls.

Your body was floating, the pleasure flowing through your blood vessels. Your vision was blurring, knees buckling. “Cum.” It was the only word your vocabulary possesed.

Jungkook saw how your body shook, like a ticking time bomb. Knowing the explosion was going to be loud, he caged you in, hand clasping around your mouth. “That’s it cum for me.”

Everything hit you at once, completely consuming you. You squirmed and screamed as the feeling of an overwhelming peace washed over you. It was as if you left this planet. Everything felt so light, so quiet. You could hear your heart pound and ears ringing.

Jungkook held you tight, lips tucked into the crevice of your neck. Hushing and guiding you through your extreme high. His balls drummed, ready to release the pressure that had built up within.

He couldn’t breathe, your wet walls clamped around him. He winced trying to remove himself, his own cock overstimulated. Angry and begging for relief. “No in me, please. Want you to cum in me. Fill me.” You slurred.

His cock didn’t even give him the chance to confirm your request, combusting at your words. Sucking at the raw skin on your neck, ensuring he left a deep mark, he emptied himself. Overcome with pleasure himself.

Spurts of warm cum covered your walls, his moans vibrated against your skin. His cock pumped and dumped every last drop into you until all you could feel was him. All you could think about was him.

Both of you were in heaven. All you could do was cherish the moment. The feeling of being full and contempt.

You stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing heavily against one another. He was crushing you with his body. Finally gaining some strength, he started to pry his body away.

The feeling of his cum running down your thighs was evident, making you cringe. “This is a treat.” He muttered, licking his lips as his hands pulled your lips apart, giving him a front row view of the mess that leaked out.

“Messy, dirty.” You whined.

“Exactly what I like baby.”

Thighs clenched together at his words. The high beginning to crash away. He kissed your lower back, massaging your thighs and ass. “Come on, let’s clean up. My client will be here in a few minutes.”

Pouting, you rose from your position and faced him, legs shaking as you tried to find balance. He laughed, poking your cheek. “Cute.”

He walked over to his sterilised table to grab a towel. Realising that the whole studio heard you getting your brains blown out, you wanted to escape as fast as possible.

Using the last of your energy, you pulled up your panties, fixed your top, and wiped the remnants from your face with your palm. By the time Jungkook turned around, you were all fixed up. Apart from your hair. Which made him chuckle, it screamed ‘I just had sex’.

You stood there uncomfortable, feeling the stickiness between your thighs. You looked at him awkwardly, not knowing what you should say, should do. “Um, thanks. I should get going.”

His eyes bulged, wide like bambi. Before you could grab your bag, he reached out for your forearm. Stopping you. “Hey, um you sure you okay?”

His voice was completely different, soft and gentle. You gulped, nodding your head. “Yeah positive. Don’t want to hold you up any longer.” You smiled to reassure him.

“Oh, um one second.” His hands thread through your hair, fixing the rustled and knotted locks. Tucking pieces behind your ear. “Sorry, it was um a little messy.” He admitted, before he started to fix up his own appearance.

Fuck, he was so enchanting.

Once he sorted himself, he cleared his throat. “Are you sure you don’t want, um, a towel or anything?” He offered with a small smile.

“It’s fine, it’s not that bad.” You shrugged, flattening your skirt.

“Maybe you just like it.” He smirked, trailing his eyes down your body. The comment made your cheeks heat up.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah okay, I’ll, um, go.” You announced, turning on your heels, ready to make your great escape.

“Wait!”

Jungkook ran to his desk. He grabbed some paper, using a pen to scribble down something. You stood patiently, twiddling your thumbs. “Here, these are some guidelines to help you with the healing process for the new ink.”

Frantically nodding, you thanked him, offering a gentle bow of your head. He bit his lip at your action, finding it endearing. He flipped the booklet before handing it to you.

“Oh, and that’s my number. I finish work at 5. If you text me before then, I can come over to, um, make sure you get some proper aftercare. You know, for the tattoo.”

Pursing your lips together, you tried to hide the smile. “Yeah, for the tattoo.”

Jungkook

Thigh riding

Office sex

Massage

Tutoring

Best friend's boyfriend

Another best friend's boyfriend

Camping

Massage Salon

Trainer

Landlord

Blackmailing nerd

Dad's best friend

Gamer

Ferris Wheel

Brat tamer

Cheating CEO

Lawyer

Husband

Cam couple

Streamer

Police officer

burnout (jk)

summary: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.

pairing: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader

genres: yandere, dark romance, slow burn

author’s note: this is a repost or burnout chapters 1-3 + a bonus sneak peek from chapter 4 from my deleted account, aikastales, for easy viewing. it is still on hold. minors do not interact. no warnings for this specific part.

total word count: 10k

PART ONE

Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building? 

He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you. 

At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance. 

And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you. 

“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you. 

Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours. 

You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply. 

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.” 

“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you. 

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”

You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams? 

“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?” 

Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.” 

The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud. 

“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.” 

Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?” 

You couldn’t help it. You were curious. 

“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.” 

You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. 

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you. 

“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

Jungkook drove off. 

As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off. 

The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes. 

“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first. 

You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back. 

He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you. 

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table. 

“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair. 

Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?” 

You nodded. 

“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.” 

His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?” 

“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.

Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.” 

“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?” 

“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed. 

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.” 

You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications. 

But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did. 

They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.” 

After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation. 

“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink. 

Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.” 

You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend. 

“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.

Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.” 

“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?” 

He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.” 

You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.” 

“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.” 

“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked. 

“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?” 

“Where?” 

“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,” 

You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”

“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.” 

“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.” 

“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.” 

“Go for it.” 

“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously. 

“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.” 

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did. 

“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.” 

You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.” 

You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester. 

Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.

It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents. 

Tonight was no different. 

You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung. 

“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber. 

“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,” 

“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?” 

“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,” 

“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.” 

“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.” 

“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.” 

You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory. 

“Where are you, Taehyung?” 

“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,” 

“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that. 

“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered. 

Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?” 

“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity. 

“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.” 

Just how deep does blood run? 

You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see. 

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.” 

“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?” 

“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered. 

His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen. 

“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator. 

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it. 

“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?” 

As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you. 

“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained. 

“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.” 

“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend. 

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him. 

Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed. 

“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?” 

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.” 

“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.” 

“Do you wanna get punched?” 

“Let’s go right now,” 

“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.” 

Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.” 

Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate. 

“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted. 

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against. 

“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him. 

“I insist,” Jungkook responded. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah sure,” 

You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment. 

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.” 

“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment. 

The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first. 

You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said. 

You were fucking lovestruck. 

Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.

To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing. 

That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.

With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.

You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”

Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.

It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”

It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook. 

“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.

Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him. 

Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again. 

“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.” 

You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun. 

PART TWO

As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club. 

What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before. 

After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in. 

You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes. 

“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.” 

With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?” 

“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.” 

“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted. 

“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?” 

“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.” 

“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?” 

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.” 

You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office. 

“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.” 

“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.” 

Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” 

“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes. 

This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him. 

Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 

You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you. 

Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office. 

Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.” 

You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.” 

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.” 

“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.” 

“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.” 

“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office. 

Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating. 

Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind. 

You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest. 

The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you. 

I’ll change and meet you outside the building. 

You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.” 

“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded. 

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.” 

Your heart fluttered yet again. 

“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle. 

“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.” 

Just like that, you were reminded of reality. 

“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.” 

It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung. 

“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.” 

“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera. 

“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.” 

“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.” 

When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up. 

You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change. 

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket. 

“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.” 

You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.” 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?” 

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh. 

“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.” 

“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.” 

There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you. 

“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.” 

As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here. 

So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase. 

“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. . 

Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely. 

Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you. 

“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did. 

He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you. 

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that. 

You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.” 

To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.” 

And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” 

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.  

You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.” 

“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette. 

“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was. 

“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.” 

“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” 

“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.” 

He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation. 

“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?” 

And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams. 

And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave. 

Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours. 

And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined. 

No sparks. 

No fireworks. 

It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss. 

You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had. 

But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable. 

Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world. 

PART THREE

You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger. 

Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.  

As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process. 

“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.” 

You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message. 

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said. 

“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week. 

“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.” 

You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life. 

“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine. 

“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.” 

The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend? 

“If he’s like that—,” 

“He is like that,” 

“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.” 

When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face. 

Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him. 

You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.” 

He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.” 

“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table. 

“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day. 

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious? 

Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona. 

Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy? 

“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon. 

“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him. 

“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.” 

You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,” 

“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin? 

“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook. 

“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.” 

Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library? 

Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true? 

You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?  

Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed. 

“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room. 

“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.” 

You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?” 

“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work. 

Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent. 

Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep. 

Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom. 

Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards. 

You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering. 

“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses. 

“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie. 

“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,” 

“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,” 

You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of: 

“Lee Haemin.” 

PART FOUR (a sneak peek)

“Lee Haemin.” 

In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward. 

“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked. 

As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings. 

It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said: 

“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”

Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.” 

“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.” 

“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.” 

Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.” 

“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook. 

She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you." 

"Why would he say that to you?" 

"Because he loved me first." 

And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.

Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”

“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.” 

“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you? 

“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.” 

You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.” 

“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika.