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Crimson ties | h.h au

synopsis: Drawn into the dangerously seductive world of Hwang Hyunjin, you become entangled in a toxic relationship where power and desire are locked in a fierce struggle. As the crimson ties between them tighten, you are forced to confront the darkness within yourself and navigate the blurred lines between love and control. Will both of you find a way to transform your tumultuous connection into something genuine, or will the shadows of your past keep you two trapped in a cycle of manipulation and pain?

Genre: smut,slow burn,fluff

Pairing : toxic!hyunjin x afab!reader

Warnings : explicit content,manipulation,power dynamics (detailed warnings will be in the chapters)

Status: ongoing

note: decided to turn the Hyunjin one shot into a series🥲

chapters:

chapter 1 : take it

chapter 2 : put in your place

cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hajoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends. 

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has a final tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard.  “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

 —

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o’ is so disarming. 

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone. 

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced. 

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

“Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

meraki | jjk (m)

MERAKI (v., Greek). "to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work." Summary: Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut ➳ warnings: bickering, bantering, jk is a bit rude at the beginning, flirting, tension, oc is bold and courageous, mention of someone being stoned, mention of insomnia, jk's lip rings <3, heights, not exactly e2l but more like "i find you pretty annoying" to lovers lmao, deep talks and sweet moments, one bed trope, guest appearance, jk takes pictures of pretty things, stars and sky talk <3, explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, implied pain kink? lol, fingering, manhandling, oral (f. & m. receiving), teasing, 69, spitting, one or two spanks, bit of choking, soft and hard sex, unprotected sex (oc has an iud), soft dom!jk but also glimpses of sub!jk, ofc biiiig dick!jk, doggy/riding/missionary, praises, more flirting, jk's godly body, masturbation, cum swallowing (he comes in her mouth); the lovely ending <3 ➳ word count: 26.6k <3 ➳ a/n: you guys built this fic!! 🥺 hopefully this is what we expected it to be. it's also yet another love letter to one of the gentlest men i know; happy birthday, jeon jungkook, you're the standard and i will never fall out of love with you 💕 i hope y'all enjoy it!! come and talk to me when you're done mwah <3

TAGLIST |MASTERLIST | WIPs

1:04AM, Her

There’s a word for how you do what you do.

A term you hold dearly in the crevices of your bright heart. Ever since you first learned its meaning two decades ago, you’ve made it your primary goal to breathe through life with it as your philosophy.

Passion, it is. A word certainly common in conversation and daily life — you’re not the only person to live by it. Doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to wallow in it.

Because there’s a fire behind your hard-working chest, lit up, pride residing next to it. It’s where you feel the most vivid light when you do what you love, blooming and blossoming. There are synonyms of it you know, and each of them are pretty as a growing garden.

You gatekeep them for now; haven’t yet found a person to share your knowledge with. Which is okay; in the meantime, you’ll keep looking. You do think everybody needs something like this in their lives.

Something that forces your body upright, sprinkling fairy dust and glimmer into your eyes. Something you can resort to in order to escape the trials of life.

For you, as odd it may seem to people, it’s your job.

You usually work late like today, surrounded by sounds and disquiet. But you enjoy it. You like stepping into the night afterwards, and you like the dark blanket above, the starlight sprinkled across the comforting blackness.

And you like it when it drizzles sometimes. The giggles of couples or groups of friends as they wade through the rain. The absolute quiet and relieving serenity.

You live for this. You enjoy people. You enjoy sensing life around you.

Tonight isn’t different. Even when you find yourself hastening by the end, wrapping up the event with a dozen chores to tackle; even when the host rushes to you, asking for help. Your shoes click-clack across the floor as you move left and right, up and down.

But by God, you never doubt these days’ worth.

1:04AM, Him

Sometimes, people don’t want to be photographed.

Jungkook learned that early on when he agreed to be a photographer at events. He’s encouraged and urged to ask people to pose; that’s his job. Waiting for them to force a smile before they can resume eating, debone their fish or work on their lobsters, beef, veggies.

They long to return to whatever they were doing, or to their conversations, mostly insignificant ones; Jungkook knows because he, involuntarily, hears too many of them. 

It’s only when they’re dancing or drinking that they open up. That’s when they’re okay with listening to him, obedient, almost as if he’s authority, staring into the lens with flushed cheeks and wide grins.

Though it’s irritating when every other person walks up to him afterwards, inquiring when they’d be receiving the photos, or, even ruder, if at all.

Today, there are a few more comfortable people around. Not as harsh, not as grim as he feels. You’re here, too, somewhere; of course you are — you got him here in the first place. Somehow, your paths often cross. You were ready for a picture immediately, drawn in by the host, smiling.

He perceived your presence just for a second, though. Doesn’t need or want any more than that. You’re too loud, too energetic anyway; he’s rather among himself, not in any photo, indulging in the job.

He loves clicking through his camera roll; it’s the people that tire him out. Working his way through the pictures he took once home gives him joy, though. Makes his fatigue feel worth it.

But God, you’re not the only one, right? So many people here are the same amount of enthusiastic, party people to the core. 

Which is why he’s happy when the night finally concludes, and he, far after midnight, stuffs his equipment back into his bag and slips into his at least somewhat chic blazer.

1:12AM, Her

You groan as your hand dives into your bag, fishing out the key that you already removed from your keychain an hour ago. Back when the man facing you approached you; he’s the last face you see when you step out of the somewhat stuffy hall.

Or so you think.

You don’t know that the night is far from over when you linger at the entrance, handing him a key that he encloses in his grip with a grateful nod and a goodbye-wave. The final interaction when you excuse yourself, breathing in the night.

It’s a hunch cooler than when you left home today; yet, the breeze feels pleasant caressing your skin. The end of August is still warm, still fairly far from fall; you regard summer nights as the best part of the season.

Sighing, you come to a halt in the middle of the pavement, studying the alley. You ponder until you remember a bus not too far from here; you need to turn left, right? Should be there. You have never been around here before, so you’re not entirely sure.

But you’ll just go with your first instinct for now. Keep walking until you detect any kind of a promising sign. You hold onto your roomy bag as you pass the rare people still around.

Some of them are faces you recognise from the party; some are strangers. One couple you spoke to just earlier even lifts a thumbs up for you, praising you for the exceptional organisation. They make you feel at ease until the road quietens.

And the place stays serene and silent until you hear the clearing of somebody’s throat. It’s not near; yet not far. Your eyes scan the area, not for long when they recognise a figure sitting on the opposite side of the narrow street.

It’s a man, clutching a heavy object with careful hands. A camera, you know it immediately. He’s hunting through the pictures he took, face slightly lit by the screen. Jutting lower lip, slowly blinking eyes.

Simple attire — dark jeans, a white shirt, and a blazer on top that hides the wide shoulders.

Constantly and undeniably handsome, albeit always grim due to the lack of a smile.

You squint to confirm it’s him you’re seeing; but when he smacks his lips in the dark of the night, nibbling at the shiny lip rings, you know you’re right. This is a habit you’ve never seen on anybody this persistently as on Jeon Jungkook.

And the one and only Jeon Jungkook must be feeling your eyes on him, because only a second later, he lifts his gaze. Instinctively, you wave a little, but Jungkook isn’t on board with your hospitality. He rolls his eyes; you don’t take it to heart, though. You’re used to this.

As he starts stuffing the camera back into his bag, you waddle over, crossing the street. Upon reaching him, you ask, “Got some good pictures tonight?”

“I’d guess so.”

His voice is as nonchalant as always, his shoulders relaxed, uncaring. To your vampire-novel-reading middle school self, he would’ve been the coolest and most mysterious riddle, waiting to be cracked. But you know how he feels about you, and that makes the situation just a little less intriguing.

Yet, you never stopped approaching him, because aside from conversations like these, you know he’s just human, too. He smiles at events whenever he gets the chance, content with the moments he captures; he likes what he does.

Photography has always been his thing; or that’s what you gathered, at least. You see the same sparkle in his eyes that you feel in yours when you work; the same joy when he fumbles with his camera, always checking, presumably changing the settings, testing it out.

You lean in a little, wondering, “Can I see?”

“Uhm…” He hesitates, lifting the strap of the camera bag higher up his shoulder. “Do you have to?”

“If I may. I brought you here, remember?”

Of course. It’s always you; you’re the one to organise this, and you’ve seen his pieces and albums before. He might not hang around you too much, always the first to tell you he has somewhere else to be, but you know he’s good. You trust him in this regard.

“You say that every time,” he argues, a tattooed hand settling on his bag, clearly reluctant.

So you click your tongue, waving your suggestion off. You try to sound as lively as ever, but your voice is more earnest as you say, “Okay, it’s fine. Don’t show me the pictures, but come on. Be a bit nice at least.

“Alright. What else? Do you need something?”

You sigh in defeat. “No. I was just going home.”

“You should go home. It’s pretty late.”

“Aren’t you going, too?”

“I am,” he responds, his voice going up at the end. “I just wanted a bit of peace before leaving.”

“Peace,” you repeat, as if trying out the word. “You can’t get it at home?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer this time. Instead, he only shifts his stare from you to the empty road ahead, exhaling a dramatically long breath before he gets into motion. You immediately react, by his side until he asks, “Are you following me?”

“Huh? Did you forget that I was literally heading this way?” He’s distracted, looking for the street signs, and you laugh at his own confusion. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“I guess so.”

Okay, at least he’s honest, not giving himself airs. You want to see what his inner compass suggests, but then somewhat shun the thought of walking further into unknown terrain.

So you question, “You taking the bus?”

“Nope. Subway.”

“Ah. That should be this way, then,” you nod towards the direction you’re approaching, “I know the bus is, because that’s where I need to go.”

“…Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

That’s it. He doesn’t respond much; only lets out the millionth sigh, following you with something you might nearly call trust. He doesn’t attempt small talk or any other kind of interaction, so you let him sink into his thoughts.

But a beat of silence later, you still ask politely, “How did you like the party?”

“Uhhh, it was okay.” For the first time in minutes, he looks at you. “The people were weird, don’t you think? But I got some good shots in.”

“Hmm… okay. I didn’t notice anything weird about the people.” You shrug your shoulders. “Talking about shots… did you drink a little?”

He whines your name as the question is a tale as old as time, complaining, “Every single time? Why is this so important to you…” He waits, shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. Seems you did, though.”

“A little,” you say, bringing your forefinger and thumb together, indicating a tiny space. “But I’m all sober and well.” Another brief pause. “Are you okay, too?”

He licks his lower lip, dimples appearing that don’t ever need a smile to emerge. Then, he throws back, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno. You always look so bored at parties. And you always go home alone.”

You don’t know if the following laugh is sarcastic or not, but you soon discover the very answer when he lifts a finger and counts, “First off, how would you know?” Another finger added to the mix. “Secondly, I’m not bored. I’m just focused. And I don’t know anybody there.”

His hand drops again, working on his bag’s strap again. Pushing it over his shoulder. He adds, “It’s a bit different for me than for you because they’re literally your clients and you know them at least a little.”

“I mean… you know me.”

“Yeah, but you’re…” He regards you from head to toe, not the softest of expressions, and you pout. You don’t ever take him seriously, but he can be hurtful sometimes. “I just don’t think we’d be good conversation partners.”

“Weird,” you challenge, “because you’re conversing with me right now, no problem. It’s also not my fault you always argue with me at every event.”

“I don’t. You approach me.”

“You do.” You lean your face closer to his, not making it very far when his palm pushes your cheek, and you, away from him. “Ugh. Okay. Seriously, though — why do you always leave alone?”

He exhales in defeat. Seems that Jeon Jungkook is too tired to take your idiocy tonight. You understand, but you’re just trying to figure out how to convince him that you’re normal, too. That he just dislikes you because you’re different from him, and nothing else.

“Hey…” he utters, out of energy.

“I mean it,” you still declare, “there are so many sweet and nice girls around. They ask about you sometimes, you know? I’ve also met many men on such pa—”

“That’s great,” he interrupts, a palm stopping you from spilling more info, “but… I don’t think I’m interested.”

“Oh.” The syllable is short, cut, harmless. That is, until it clicks in your brain, and your eyes widen, lips parting as you turn to him in shock, stating, “Oh, wait. Do you… play for the other team?”

Jungkook blinks at you. Then lowers his gaze, turning it a couple shades darker, staring at you from under his eyelids. He looks annoyed when he spits, “No, I’m not gay. And even if I was, it’d be none of your business.”

Shit.

Okay, you were sure about your assumption, but now that it turned out wrong, this sounds pretty shitty. And annoying. And awkward.

“Sorry,” you apologise, and he gives you a taunting head tilt. “Okay… different topic then? Tell me, what do you think of this dress?” You lift the hem a little, smiling; you were convinced the moment you first saw it. “Do you think I look pretty today?”

For a second, he joins; his initial gaze is still cynical, but his voice is appealing, a whisper when he leans in and asks, “Why? Do you want to be the one I go home with?”

Ah… why do the words, the way he speaks them, tickle you just right? You’re flabbergasted, seeing your reaction on the bare skin of your arms, but all he does is back away again and once again, shake his head.

You want to retort something snarky back, but you don’t get to it when he inquires a moment later again, “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

Right… you need to go home. You forgot.

“Uh… yeah.” You look around, finally detecting a sign, picturing a bus and a number. “There’s the bus, so the subway should be…” You stop; hum; then see two women waiting at the bus stop. “Should we ask someone?”

“Sure.”

With a nod, you separate from him, walking towards the bus station bench they’re sitting on, hands folded, conversing quietly. They’re surprised when they see a figure advance, but relax when they catch your smile.

You ask the questions floating in your brain, trying to explain where you live, what you need. They attempt an answer, gesture around, and barely a minute later, you’re thanking them and leaving again.

Jungkook stands there in anticipation, waiting for you to deliver good news — yet confused when you return with slumped shoulders instead of an enthusiastic, “We were right! Come!”

Okay, there aren’t too many reasons for Jungkook to dislike you; you want to say this much. But when you see him understand that this is going nowhere, you do get his frustration.

Especially as you kiss your lips, staring at him like a lost bunny, and explain, “So… the subway isn’t here.” Big eyes meet yours. “I’m not sure where it is, and they,” your thumb points to the girls behind you, “couldn’t help because they’re tourists.”

“Ah. Great,” he says, delivering a falsely cheerful smile. Hands thrown into the air. “So we’re stranded and should definitely not be here. What about the bus? Where does it go?”

“Uhm…” You scratch your head. “Not where I need to go. It’s a different one. But!” Immediately, your voice rises, trying to approach this with hope. It’s not the end of the world, after all! “Don’t worry! We’ll get home either way.”

“Just a lot later than necessary.”

“But nothing’s lost yet. Don’t you trust me?”

And — much as you thought — Jungkook only ogles back in silence, blinking once again before he walks away with a curse on his lips.

1:25AM, Her

You catch up to him fast.

“It’s not that big of a deal, I promise!” you vow, but you reckon it only makes matters worse.

Because he breathes air through his nose, like a bull, arguing, “I’m tired, though. This is wasting so much of my time. You always do.”

You stop in your tracks. He doesn’t. You sulk, “That was mean.”

“And you’re idiotic.”

“Well… shit.”

This time you tilt your head, grinding your teeth; less out of anger, more out of embarrassment. You don’t respond much else, and he doesn’t throw another insult. Instead, he opens the bag again with the velcro’s ripping sound, heaving out his SLR. 

You peek over his shoulder, confused about the timing to indulge in a passion, and ask, “What are you doing with that?”

“Looking through them,” he mutters, thumb working on the switching button, “maybe I took a picture when I came here. A sign where to find the subway.”

His reasoning elicits a sudden laugh out of you, probably unfounded to him, but very amusing to you. He throws a bewildered and somewhat warning look, and you immediately silence; still holding yourself back when he turns away again.

You wait, listen to the quiet of the night. He doesn’t seem to find any success, and the more time passes, the funnier you find his mind. Eventually, you step next to him and give up, telling him, “Hey.​ Don't be so tetchy. I'm not that bad.”

Jungkook side-eyes you, tapping the screen of the heavy Sony A9 Alpha. Inhaling the pleasant late summer air, he defends, “I'm never tetchy! But you got us lost.”

“So? You’re being dramatic. There's still Google Maps.”

That’s it. This look of his.

Jungkook must’ve gotten stuck in a decade you’ve long left, because he stares at you dumbfounded, camera still firmly in his hands. He tongues his cheek, blinks.

And then, you mock, “Guess I’m not the only idiot here, right?”

His next breath is deep, and he soon averts your eyes again. You dig, “What? If anything, then low battery might be your only excuse, you know?”

He doesn’t look at you, and you break into a grin again. Shake your head. Then fish out your phone at last, ready to type in the goal, or at least, to search the nearest subway and bus that fit your demands.

Hmmm, okay. If you need to go where you think you need to go, then the subway will really be in immediate distance to the bus. So you’ll be heading in the same direction anyway.

You open your mouth to ask for his address, prepared to type it in — but as you look at him again, you detect a deeply focused Jungkook, pursing his lips at his camera and regarding it with glitter in his eyes. You see it even from here, the sparkle.

Maybe he’s waiting for you to deliver a conclusion, because you catch him moving through older pictures in the meantime. From here, you only see glimpses. Of forests and roads, and then of waterfalls. Even some of him and his friends.

He doesn’t notice it, but his eyebrows are much more relaxed now, expression not quite as steely anymore; and his lips even twitch for a tiny second, tempted to smile. As if he forgot where he’s currently standing.

You let your arms sink, both hands holding your phone, and just gaze for a while. Then move your eyes to the side. To the sky. Remember places you’ve seen and loved in this town. Still hear his harsh tone echoing in your ears.

In hindsight, you really don’t think you've ever personally hurt or offended him. He might’ve been annoyed by something else. Perhaps he was dealing with something that he never dared to speak about; or perhaps, his perception of optimism is warped, because he clearly doesn’t wade through life with it.

You’d like to see his real self, though. The real self, because your gut feeling whispers to you that this isn’t him. Maybe there’s a kind and kindred soul hidden somewhere; maybe his smile proves far more intriguing to you than these mysterious moods of his. Once it appears, that is.

But…

He’ll probably say no. Your idea isn’t dumb, you’re certain, but he very likely will not go with it. But you want to try. Want to show him that you’re not as bad, that he can trust you; want to know what burdens him; or why he talks to you like this.

You might be the only one to wish for more time with somebody who wants to avoid you like the plague.

Yet…

You don’t want this to end just yet. 

So you drop a suggestion that surprise even you—

“…You know what? Let’s try something fun tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

He voices it with his attention only half on you, not quite taking you seriously; so you swallow to dampen your throat and speak firmer, suggesting, “You need to trust me on this, though.”

This time, he does look at you. Works on stuffing his camera back into his bag, opening his mouth to retort something, but you stop him with a shushing finger that he doesn’t look too happy about.

“Hold on, okay?” you exclaim. “Listen. Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Uh… not until the afternoon.”

“So you can sleep in.”

“I guess.”

You clap once, loudly and dramatically, watching the man in front of you flinch. You can’t say if he’s irritated, shocked or terrified of you. But he looks hilarious like this, blinking, scowling as his fingers clutch his bag tighter.

“What is it?” he asks as if you’ve lost your mind.

“Look. Let’s not leave yet. Fuck Google Maps,” you suggest, and his eyes grow wider by the second, baffled, as if you’re caging him. “Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again. Isn’t this tempting?”

In your head, it is. Not for yourself, but for him. In your mind, he thinks of you as a constant nuisance that stands in his way, hopping around like an overhyped puppy.

Or not. Maybe he has a dog at home; maybe he regards you as worse than cute puppies.

Whatever.

You look at him expectantly, like your persisting stare could help him land a decision. Instead, however, he grimaces, his voice higher when he asks, “What even are you sa—”

No, you won’t give up yet; even if the recurring interruptions make him tear his hair out. You click your tongue and then argue, “Come on! Give it a try.”

Hesitation. Or rather, a question wondering if you’re crazy. Clear rejection. Are you losing?

“We’d be together, so nothing to fear,” you try further, “and how much time is there till sunrise?” You glance at your watch. “It’s barely half past one. The sun comes up in less than five hours. And like, I know it sounds like a lot, but if you give me some time, I’ll give you reasons to smile.”

He keeps looking at you in this questioning, are-you-fully-mad-manner, but you’re absolutely serious and you need him to know. You bat your eyelashes a little, offering your best laugh, and add, “Like this? If you really want to hate me after that, then okay. If not, then… maybe we could go get coffee someday.”

You’ve spoken enough. He raises a hand, quieting you down, and then finally says it.

“You must be crazy.”

“I am,” you confirm.

“You think I’d do this, huh?”

“…Maaaybe?”

“No.”

Jungkook’s answer is stone cold and direct, and it shuts you up with a near-wince. There’s a faint line between his thick eyebrows, lips pressed together; he looks dangerous and very, very mean.

So you don’t say much for another minute, following when he walks away. You side-eye him, notice him type his destination into his phone. Surrendering, you trudge the path he chooses, soon detecting signs leading to the subway.

He can’t say anything to your presence by his side. Even if his answer remains a steadfast, boring no, you’ll have to go in this direction anyway.

More than halfway through, you venture into a conversation again, “Have you ever tried anything like this before?”

“What? The nonsense you suggested?” he asks, and you nod, catching up with his long legs, slightly slower with your heels. “No. I don’t think I need to.”

“You’re so… don’t you ever try anything new?”

“I mean, is this your definition of something new?” He gestures at your surroundings haphazardly. “Going through town in the middle of the night instead of getting some decent sleep?”

You shrug your shoulders, defending, “It’s not like I do it every day. And nothing one can do every day anyway. That's why I want you to try it.” Your voice is soft, friendly. “But you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t answer; only comes to a halt when a bus stop nears, peeking up to the sign with the number before he asks, “That yours?” You hum in confirmation. “Okay. Will you get home well? It’s late.”

“Yeah, of course,” you pout, kicking off a tiny stone with your shoe, “done it a few times.”

He stalls. You don’t know why, but you’re sure he does. You notice it in his slow movements, the brief pause, the way he looks to the subway he needs to approach and then back to you. You smile when his eyes linger on you for a moment too long, and then he tilts his head, sighs.

“Alright. Then… good night.”

And that’s it.

You tell him to sleep well in return, earning a tiny nod, and then he’s leaving you stranded, walking away. Your eyes stay on him until he’s out of sight, down the escalator to the subway and far, far away from the fun idea you conjured.

You mimic his sigh. Take the two or three steps to the bench under the bus stop; and then you wait.

At this time, public transport operates irregularly, so you’re not surprised when you’re still there minutes later. For a while, you remain alone — that is, until a stranger tumbles to you, swaying before he takes a seat on the other edge of the bench.

You don’t look at him; don’t want his attention on you. But to your discomfort, he garbles just a second later, “This the bus to…”

He gets a hiccup, pointing to the bus sign, and then mumbles the name of the station he needs to reach. You don’t understand, however, so you prod, “What?”

Slower now yet similarly slurred, he repeats his question, but this time, you understand and nod your head yes. He overshares, “It’s just that I’m drunk, so I need to be sure. Sorry for interrupting.”

Suddenly, you feel kind of sorry for him. Your shoulders relax; you observe him letting his arms dangle between his legs, sniffling, incredibly exhausted, it seems. What did the fella experience tonight?

You respond, “It’s okay. It’s really late. Get home well.”

“Thanks. You’re very nice.”

The same finger previously signalling to the sign now points at you; but he doesn’t touch you. In fact, his digits are still a good distance away, already falling when you feel a hand on your elbow out of the blue; you nearly react on intuition, getting into position to break somebody’s nose.

But when your eyes meet the other man’s, you recognise him as the same figure standing tall that abandoned you a couple minutes ago. His hand is still grasping the camera bag strap, and he looks calm, confident when he speaks—

“All good? Sorry, I left for too long, right? Let’s go.”

Your voice changes, a chuckle hidden in it when you blurt, “What?”

“You wanted to take a walk.”

And just like that, the snicker dies again. Is he being serious? It seems so; it’s the whole package, even. The nod towards an entirely different direction and the sudden fingers around your wrist, pulling you away.

“Uhm…” you start, feet moving automatically. You turn to the guy drowning in inebriation, leaving a last, “Good luck!” as you wave, smile. Then, to Jungkook, “I thought you went away. Did you want to do this after all?”

You’re cocking an eyebrow, but much at the back of Jungkook’s head, so he doesn’t see. But it seems he hears the tease in your voice, because half-annoyed, half-argumentative, he explains, “No. Just wanted to be a gentleman. I was going to leave the moment you got on the bus.”

Ah. So he was waiting, hiding somewhere? But you don’t mention it; it’d probably just rile him up more.

Yet, you challenge, “You’re lying. You were concerned and you thought my idea was fun after all.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, waving the white flag, probably just to shut you up, “don’t know if I can do this until sunrise, but I can walk with you for a bit. Get you closer to home. And I swear!”

Now he turns, shooting a stare at you over his shoulders, lightning bolts in the middle of his pupils, “If you’re lying and there’s literally nothing special on our way, I’m actually never talking to you again.”

Nothing easier than that.

“Deal!”

“Cool,” he so nonchalantly remarks, finally letting go of your arm, “which way are you heading then?”

“North-east.”

“Good. Works for me.”

The sun is nowhere near up yet; of course not. It’s 1:37AM. Around four and a half hours.

You’re hopeful. In your head, you imagine an uplifted demeanour in no time; try to guess what his smile might look like. A genuine one. Maybe sweet? Maybe cocky? You’ll find out. You will.

So you straighten your stance, clear your throat, sigh a content breath, and step into the night with the courage the stars lend you.

2:13AM, Her

The first almost forty minutes of your night pass leisurely.

Jungkook’s initial sighs cease soon as you advance into the town, walking down a busy main street. You guess the bustling area, the sounds of the traffic and the lights of the flashing cars relieve him somehow. Give him an excuse to not talk to you.

But as the occupied road ends and you reach and pass a crowded square, you’re back in calm and serene alleys. Some people are still wandering around, passing closed shops, much like you.

You attempt conversation every now and then, and Jungkook, having eventually realised that he needs to cooperate with you — he agreed to your idea after all — isn’t as mad anymore.

At some point, he breathes in the late summer breeze, and your head swerves into his direction immediately — maybe the magic of the night has finally reached his core, too. Perhaps he’s appreciating the journey you set out to embark on.

You, for one, cherish the quiet; you know at least this much. The alley must be part of the older corner of the town because the lampposts seem Victorian. They’re fancy, bent at the top, the light a comforting golden.

You do admire the beauty in the dead of night, you do — but the weirdly bruising feeling on your skin becomes uncomfortably apparent the more you walk. Your heels and the Achilles tendons ache, the ball of your feet sensitive to each step.

For a while, you hide the stupid pain successfully, not wanting the night to end; and you do love the heels. Feel just the way those old romcom’s protagonists probably felt, strutting through town with a man whose life they’d change.

But as an involuntary groan slips out of you, Jungkook’s view changes from the old buildings to your struggling self. His eyes settle on your contorted expression before they move further down to your sudden limp.

He asks, “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah! Just been walking for a while, is all.”

“Hmm,” he hums, regarding your heels with a suspicious look. “Do they hurt?”

“Nah. I’m used to them.”

“…Oookay.”

He drags the word, as if in disbelief; and you can’t lie your way through the minutes when the ache worsens, the suddenly paved path too much of a chore. You nearly trip when your heel gets caught between the stones.

Jungkook immediately reacts when you hiss; you’re nowhere near actually falling, but his arms still reflexively jolt, the camera bag swaying and hitting your hand when he catches your shoulders.

“Okay, seriously,” he spits, eyes wide, “that’s enough. You can’t walk in these.”

“I can!”

“Not!” He takes a look around, inspecting the place; it’s quiet here, not too many cars driving by at all. So he points to the edge of the pedestrian zone, instructing, “Sit down there. Let’s see.”

See what?

You blink, but oblige. His pointing finger is dominant, and his eyes urging; you flatten your dress, taking a seat at the edge. The road isn’t high, so it’s a little uncomfortable; but you’re pleasantly surprised when he appears in front of you, crouching.

Very, very baffled when he requests, “Can you take them off?”

“Sure,” you say, unbuckling the straps around your ankles before removing the shoes. You sigh; you must admit, it does feel great. “I’m honestly okay, though.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, ignores your statement; instead, asks, “May I?”

You don’t understand what he means until his hands come to a float right over your toes; he wants to check for bruises, doesn’t he? You nod curtly; something about this warms your chest. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this side of him before.

Not that you ever had the chance to.

He doesn’t really hate you, does he?

Carefully, his fingers reach for your ankle. The touch is warm and pleasant; doesn’t hurt until he moves his thumbs to your heel. Your feet are overworked; you notice. But rather than the annoying pain, you can’t help but focus on your view.

The big, round nose, hiding the plump, parted lips. His eyes look hooded from here, strands of his hair covering them. Intrusive thoughts plead for your fingers to card through the dark mane; it looks soft, pretty.

And the gentleness he handles your skin with fills you with fondness; you like being cared for.

Even when he shakes his head; pulling you out of your daydream. You take a breath, and then inquire, “You don’t have a problem with touching feet?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s just feet. Besides,” he stops for a second, detecting something at the back of your foot, shaking his head, “Mom used to work as a nurse. Tough job. I massaged hers sometimes.”

Ah… a loving son, a family person. You smile.

“And I thought you have a foot kink,” you tease.

“Shut up.”

“Found anything?”

“Yeah actually. Do you know how wounded your skin is here? Were you wearing new shoes?”

You gulp with a thin-lipped smile, wondering if he’ll kill you now if you tell him. You look to some random spot on your right before you admit, “Yes.”

“God, you…” He clicks his tongue. Puts your foot on the ground cautiously, reaching for his bag. He rummages through it until he pulls out a bandage, holding it in front of you. “You’re lucky.”

You chuckle, relieved and flattered. “I guess I am.”

He puffs out a laugh, but stops it right away, calling your name under his breath before he says, “God, you’re crazy. Be careful. And admit it when you’re hurt. Why didn’t you?”

Well… you didn’t want the night to end—

“I…”

You hesitate.

He works on your other foot just the same, a tender thumb running over your ankle, probably used to the soothing touch. It distracts you. And when he stops and you don’t answer, he puts his arm on his angled leg, staring up at you in anticipation.

“Yes?” he prods.

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d care.” Nonchalantly yet pouting, you nibble at your lower lip. “And if I’d told you they’re hurting, you might’ve suggested ending the night.”

He cocks an eyebrow as if agreeing to the most self-explanatory statement ever, nodding as he confirms, “Damn right I would’ve. We should end the night right now if you can’t walk. Not in these, at least.”

Your chest is hot, your stomach twisting a little. Jungkook really does bother; if not due to a connection he shares with you, then simply because he cares for people. Never, you have never experienced him like this before.

With a tilt of your head and a batting of your eyelashes, you suggest, “And if I was barefoot?”

Which he reacts to with a roll of his eyes. “The night isn’t that warm. Don’t do this to yourself. The ground’s dirty, too.”

You take a look at the dark grey pavement upon his argument, much as if the night could allow you to detect any of the dirt he speaks of. Once more, you hum, pretending to contemplate what to do; and when you pick up your heels, suggesting to follow your idea either way, the back of his hand gives your knee the lightest of hits.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Watch.”

He does. Watches you place your spacious, black bag on your lap, opening the zip. Observes as your hand dips in, pulling out one pair of sneakers and replacing them with your treacherous heels. He keeps ogling when you put them on, mouth widening bit by bit.

He doesn’t speak until you’re done, socks picked out of the shoes, pulled over your feet, laces tied. You keep smiling, content with the moment, only dropping the grin when you see his puzzled expression.

“What?” you question.

“You had them with you and… Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

Your answer comes without hesitation; whatever timidity he elicited a moment ago slowly fades again. You clear your throat, back to who you are, and dauntlessly admit, “It was sweet. How you took care of me, I mean. I didn’t think you ever would.”

“But you could’ve at least worn them sooner and avoided the hurt?!”

“Well, it didn’t hurt then…”

“You’re…”

Jungkook uprights himself, towering above you. You put a flat palm onto the pavement, wanting to heave yourself up, but soon see a hand in front of your face. He’s offering it; and you’re quick to take it.

Warm and soft; gentle.

As he pulls you up, you land closer to his body than calculated; his face isn’t too far from yours… much nearer than it has ever been. He leans back; looks to the side; blinks. Clears his throat. Lets go off your hand way too late.

The breath you held escapes in a sudden blow. You swallow.

And when you’ve processed the strange moment, you feel the change in your stance. You’re standing taller now; your feet feel heavenly in your Nikes. Dusting off the front of your dress and your ass, you wait for him to say something.

But he keeps standing there on the road, in the middle of a parking space, hands on his hips. He’s judging you; you understand. Your mindset isn’t for everybody. You might seem crazy, alright.

Yet, he doesn’t scold you again. The up and down of his irked voice doesn’t appear this time when he speaks again; instead, his chin nods towards your legs, and he questions, “So you just carry around shoes with you?”

“I need to,” you say, matter-of-factly, “I can’t ride the motorcycle in heels. And!” Jungkook’s mouth opens, but you’re quick to explain. “Before you ask. No, I didn’t hide my bike anywhere. It needs some fixing, so my co-worker took it because he knows someone who’ll do it. And because he owes me a favour.”

“Right… how unfortunate.” He pauses; runs his tatted digits through the hair you longed to touch minutes ago. They look so silky, it makes you sick. His eyes settle on you, intrigued before he adds, “So, you have a bike, huh?”

“Yeah… why?”

“No reason. I do, too.”

“Mmmh,” you voice, nodding to the road ahead to suggest moving. He follows, trudging next to you again. “You didn’t use it today?”

“No…” He pats the camera bag. “Didn’t want to harm my equipment.”

You hum approvingly, fingers entangling in front of your body. You inch closer to his arm, nudging his shoulder with yours before you flash a sugary smile and say, “Thank you. For caring even a little, you know? Even if you’re always like that, it’s nice to see you like this for once.”

“I’m usually like this,” is what he, however, merely answers, accompanied by air quotes.

But you know you’ve gotten through to him at least a little. Melted bits of the frozen parts of his heart that feel so vexed by you on other nights. In truth, you think, there’s nothing but a delicate organ pumping behind his ribcage.

He’s not a robot; Jeon Jungkook is undeniably humane. If anything, then more than most people you have ever met.

And it shows when he looks away, barely able to hide his smile. You see it even from here — that the gesture does something to his eyes. Nearly squints them shut, makes them smaller, more joyful.

You inhale, proud of yourself. Watch as he toys with his lip rings before he asks eventually, “What do you mean owing you a favour, by the way?”

He sounds almost offended. You think he’ll ask about that favour, reprimand you for giving away your bike tonight of all nights. Tell you off for dragging him here, doing something big enough to entrust an entire motorcycle to somebody.

But instead, he continues with a question you never foresaw, “Are you in a quarrel with them? Am I not your arch-enemy?”

You burst into laughter immediately, covering your mouth as the other palm touches his arm. There’s a bulging bicep under his blazer, but you’ll focus on that later.

Right now, you’re fairly occupied by the satisfied eyes; he doesn’t really expect an answer. He wanted to make you laugh… Why does that set something loose in your brain?

“Oh… are you jealous? What if I told you it’s somebody else who occupies my mind at night and not you?” you wonder, wiggling your eyebrows.

“Don’t do this to me. I’ll find your co-worker and fight them for your enemyship. Word of honour.”

“It’s enmity. And stop flirting with me,” you tell him, moving towards him again, shoulder hitting shoulder. “Or is it something else with arch-enemies?”

This time, he doesn’t veil his grin. It’s bright, pretty, reminiscent of the light shed on you underneath the lampposts. And his pupils; whenever you see them clearly enough, you recognise the sky in them. Borrowed stars inside.

You shake your head a second later, winding down from your fit of laughter, and tell him, “You’re not my arch-enemy. Arch-enemies don’t exist, and you know you aren’t one. You just…” You stall, your voice quieter now. “You just regard me as one.”

He throws you an indecipherable look. Hints of joking, shreds of seriousness, you think. His gaze drifts back to the path again, regarding a passing group of three friends briefly. His hands slide into the pockets of his jacket, and he sniffles once before he utters—

“No, I don't.”

Ah. Ah.

Why do your eyebrows relax the way they do? And your shoulders; already in ease, yet they seem to fall in relief. You peer at him wordlessly; he doesn’t demand an answer, fully aware you’re looking at him.

And you don’t ask what you’ve been to him ever since he saw you at the first party probably a year ago; what irked him, what delighted him. If he thought about you at all.

Instead, you look at the neon words in the next street, asking, “Are you hungry?”

2:19AM, Him

You’re irritating to the core.

You always have been. But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit you amused him a little. No matter how much you’ve been wasting his time, you allowed a smile in this ill-lit night. Nobody else at the party did — so in some sense, you’ve already won, and somehow, he’s even grateful.

Grateful that you’re optimistic about the world at least. Glad that you suggested fetching food. Endeared by the way you thanked him for his care. Surprised that you ride a motorcycle! Relieved that you have good humour.

Even though his own humour and smile dissipate after you enter one of the few open stores still providing late night snacks. The girl behind the counter looks tired, but straightens a little when the two of you flash a polite smile.

She greets with a sweet, “Hi!” but Jungkook sees the lethargy in her drooping eyes immediately. Poor girl.

But you’re as enthusiastic as ever; maybe a little more now, maybe observing the same as him. You put your hands on the counter like a child — the image is somewhat cute. But what comes out of your mouth is not.

“Uhm… Could I have a portion of cheese tteokbokki, please? And then… A half and half corndog for my husband.”

Your… what now?

Excuse me?

Jungkook throws an immediate and scorching look your way, utterly surprised. When you meet his eyes, his thick eyebrows are closer than anybody’s ever seen. He huffs your suggestion away, and then corrects, “I’m not her husband. And I’ll take the chicken wrap.”

You chuckle, leaning into him, shielding your mouth with a hand as you warn, “They’re not usually very good at this store. Trust me.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Right. He does. After the disaster of finding the damn bus and the deception caused by your shoes, he won’t trust you very easily anymore. His opinion clearly differs from yours, so he’ll bank on his gut feeling.

Satisfied when you shrug, as if to indicate, “If you say so,” he walks over to the window seats with you in tow, looking out to the peaceful streets. Once seated, he turns towards you, peering until you notice and ask far too purely, “What?”

“Not even your boyfriend, no… Jumped straight to making me your husband, huh?”

The lift of your shoulders brushes his concerns aside; your eyes are incredibly innocent and even somehow playful when you say, “I thought it’d be fun.”

“Was it really?”

“Well, your reaction was funny, at least.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes in disbelief. You’re courageous, he must admit. Social anxiety must fear you — is that how you live life? Unabashed, spirited, not a sheer care for anything that won’t actually hurt you.

He doesn’t know if you’re insane or if he’s jealous.

But he still reiterates, “You’re crazy. And it was embarrassing.”

“I mean,” you say, moving on your chair, folding your fingers on top of the counter but still looking at him, “it was embarrassing because you made it. It’s honestly whatever.” You blow a raspberry, and then take a swing again, “Why is it awkward anyway? We’ll never be here together again.”

He whispers a hushed, “Thankfully,” and you tap the counter with a click of your tongue. He gets it; you live differently. That’s fine. As long as you don’t pull him into your mischief, it’s fine.

Right?

He’s right, isn’t he? He knows that in his personal opinion he is; yet, he can’t help but feel that sting, suddenly deeming himself as boring. You’re never bored, are you?

Anyway…

“Even if you do something like this again,” he tells you, “at least tell me.”

“I mean, that would kinda prevent your genuine reactions from happening, but… if it makes you happy.” You grin at him, and he scoffs; wants to say something before the girl calls for you. “Food is ready.”

A couple seconds later, the two of you have settled back into place; at the sight of the snack, Jungkook salivates. He didn’t realise how hungry he actually was. The buzz and fuzz of a party makes one forget such an essential thing fast.

Or maybe, he was just immersed in his work.

The chicken smells good, at least. Or are these your tteokbokki? He can’t quite discern the scent right now; his mind is fogged by his appetite. Silently, he unwraps his food, swallowing before he digs into the wrap.

So far, so good… seems edible. He keeps chewing; swallows some more. But as the taste starts to sink in and he realises the sogginess of the wrap, the lack of proper sauces and the dryness as well as the blandness of the chicken…

He pauses. Where… are the flavours?

Slowing down, he glances at his meal. Inspects it as if he’s holding an entirely new recipe in his hands. A look of realisation creeps upon his face, unaware of your gaze, and he soon hears an amused snicker from the side.

You don’t say much when your eyes align. Only, “And?”

He knows he’s already lost when his expression changes, cringing; when he can’t answer right away, only gaping at you in confusion. Still thinking about where this recipe went wrong.

He answers, “It’s fine…”

But you catch his obvious lie; he sees it in the way you smile so devilishly. Cocking an eyebrow, enjoying another bite of your snack without ever averting your eyes. Then, you put the tiny wooden fork back into the dish, propping your cheek on your fist.

You wait; he doesn’t know what for. For him to eat again? Maybe; because you soon ask, “Do you want something else?”

“Nah.” His answer is instant this time. “I can do this. I’m an omnivore.”

“Ah, yeah. An omnivore friend right here.” You laugh, curious when he takes another bite. And then, “Jungkook, it’s okay to admit…”

But he won’t listen. Only makes a disapproving sound, stuffing his mouth with another horrendous bite. Shit; he can’t confess that you were right. That you were actually right this time.

Suddenly, he’s craving a cup of ramyeon.

But he should keep eating. Wash it down with his drink, empty the soda. And he’s almost halfway through when he notices a movement from your direction, like you’re playing with your food.

Only, he realises that you are not; rather separating the tteokbokki in two halves before shoving the porcelain dish towards him. He shakes his head, but you persist, “Take it, man.”

It does look good…

But… are you going to use the satisfaction his defeat may give you? Probably. But fuck… Fuck it.

Reluctantly, he lets the wrap fall onto the small plate, gulping down the remainder of what he just bit off, and then, accepts your generosity with a nod. And… whether it’s because of the disappointment the wrap brought or the late hunger…

Jungkook thinks he’s levitating above clouds, floating towards the sun.

It’s good. Very damn good.

And when you ask again this time, “Should we get another?” his nod comes promptly, chest risen in satisfaction as he states, “That’d be great.”

“Alright. Be right back.”

“Nah,” he says, lifting an arm as if to protect you. Mid-action, you halt, sliding back up onto your seat. “Stay here. I’ll get it… All good.”

So he does; enjoys the look of surprise when his other hand even carries dessert, four pieces of matcha mochi ice cream. He says, “This is for you.”

You gasp. He can’t deny that it’s sweet — the elation, the big eyes, the palms coming together in delight. How you look between the food and him, suddenly wiggling your feet.

“You seem to like it,” he notes, and you nod feverishly, telling him that, “Yes! Been craving it since we came in. Thank you!”

“Oh. You should’ve told me earlier! We could’ve gotten it. No worries.”

“It’s okay. I wanted to see if my dessert stomach still allowed anything. Didn’t disappoint me today.”

Jungkook gets to his own tteokbokki, halving it in the middle the way you did, pushing it towards you. It’s weird to think about it like this, but — considering how long the two of you have known each other, you might almost look like… friends.

And you don’t feel quite like an enemy either. You’re even… kind of nice. Friendly; harmless.

“I’m glad,” Jungkook responds, only looking towards the entrance when another group of three friends, two girls, a guy, enter. Then back to you, “Sorry. You were right. This,” he points to the poor, sad wrap, “was shit.”

“See? My first instinct almost never lies. And I know this store from other places… the wraps are never good.”

“Sure, but… your first instinct isn’t always right, though, is it? You did get us lost, so it was wrong at least once.”

“Hm… was it, though?”

Jungkook regards you in confusion as you put another piece on your tongue, working on the chewy thing as he asks, “What do you mean? We had no clue where we w—”

“Yeah, I mean. I agree. But… I don’t think it was that wrong. Because—”

You lick your lips clean off the tteokbokki sauce, smacking them. You look child-like, but pretty when you indulge in your element, uncaring about everything, just living. Maybe it’s not that bad that you’re bold.

And maybe, just maybe, he can power through this night easily after all; especially if you keep saying things that soothe his chest, things like—

“Because my first instinct brought me to you.”

2:49AM, Him

The temperatures are falling as the night proceeds, and the second portion of the mochi ice cream adds to the pleasant chill.

Jungkook wonders how you’re doing; your dress is skimpier than his jeans, and your arms bare. But your stance and your speech are still inconspicuous, skin free of goosebumps, your walk elegant, leisurely.

Judging from your occasional hums and your ceaseless optimism, you’re enjoying this journey. It almost makes him feel bad; guilty about how adamantly he refused all this just an hour ago.

It hasn’t been too bad. Sure, you’re bold and intrepid, and yeah, in some ways he is, too — but his courage stems from other motivations. From adrenaline-loaded activities or joyful, temporary pains. Like his tattoos; his motorcycle; the summer he bungee-jumped for the first time.

You’re a different kind of daring; you challenge your limits in crowds and consider life a respectful joke. You don’t ever hurt anyone, he doesn’t think — you just go and see how far you can push yourself.

Perhaps in some sense, the two of you complement each other while simultaneously seeming to be cut from the same wood. Perhaps you’re different, but then again, not so much.

You’re quiet; you weren’t until you left the snack bar. As for now, however, you seem distracted, swallowing heaps of your dessert as you scan the surroundings you’ve led the two into. You’re somewhat unfazed by it, yet peering as though you’ve been here before.

Which, in retrospect, makes sense. You’ve been wanting to show him places you enjoy after all.

When the silence extends, Jungkook, along with the chirping of the nightlife, breaks it with a, “You know what?”

Your head swerves to his side, the wooden fork in your mouth. The pure gaze you give him throws him off guard for a moment — it’s somewhat sweet. But as he regains himself, he says, “I didn’t think we’d get to a housing scheme here. The main street is super close, but the vibe is so different.”

“I know. It’s a little scary at night when you’re alone. Gives very Desperate Housewives, doesn’t it? Secrets veiled behind shut curtains.” You draw closer, imitating a spooky gesture. “But I liked coming here when I was younger.”

Bingo. He thought so.

“Ah… why?”

“My friend lived here,” you explain with a tilt towards a random direction; he doubts the friend lived in just the house you gestured to, “she’s long moved out of course, but we’d play on these streets back then. Most of the neighbours knew me, too!”

Jungkook tsks, hauling his own bite out of the cup, and you add, “No, seriously! We could just knock at anybody’s door here, and they’d let me in.”

“Not if they moved out, too. A lot of time has passed.”

You bob your head. “Time has passed indeed. It does so pretty fast.”

“Doesn’t it?”

You seem to get into overdrive, gearing up; he didn’t think this topic would rev you up like this, but it appears you have a somewhat firm and fond opinion about the passing of time. Jungkook recognises the sentiment before you speak — the light of the lampposts reflects in your eyes like glitter.

Only, he doesn’t foresee what you say next, your tone teasing through the joy you display—

“Yeah! Like. Do you remember when I told you to not get the wrap and you still di—”

“Shut up.”

The roll of his eyes isn’t anything new; but the faint feeling that accompanies it, something akin to amusement, certainly is.

“Okay, but. Seriously,” you start again, sly smirk falling, voice neutralising the mock, “it felt different here. Because like, you know, where I live, it gets crowded. I’m not too far from the city centre, so… this place always felt really peaceful to me. Jieun and I played together a lot.”

Jungkook frowns.

“Jieun?”

“Hm? Oh. The friend I spoke about? She’s pretty cool.”

“Ah… Right, right.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, the end of your small fork tapping the bottom of the nearly finished cup, “you know another way to know that time passes really fast?” You pause for effect, then add, “It’s been ages since we saw each other for the first time.”

“Right. At a party, too, right? When was that anyway?”

“Hmm… Like.” You ponder, blinking, looking up to the sky. “Like two years ago?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen; if you’d asked him, he would’ve estimated a year tops. If he digs in his memory thoroughly enough, he could probably even remember what you wore that day; what you looked like.

It doesn’t feel like two years. You’re right — time truly does pass like the wind.

“Wow,” he exclaims, “it’s been this long since you started pestering me?”

“Shut up,” it’s your turn to blurt, your body swaying towards him until you push him to the side of the vacant road. “I didn’t even come near you most of the time.”

“I know, I know. You were fun to look at, though. Seemed to enjoy yourself every single time.”

Shit, why did he say that? Shouldn’t he hold onto the image he fostered; the one that’s permanently irked by you, throwing snarky remarks throughout the night?

And…

Didn’t this just break the banter, the frenemyship — frenmity? — the two of you have going on? Was it too nice? It’ll probably surprise you. Then again, is he a damn child? Why would he worry about such things? Question his own kindness?

Why would he hold onto his ego and deny you his humane side when you’ve been nothing but lovely to him all night?

The young adult rivalry is over, Jeon Jungkook. Look at her and fucking admit that you’re the arrogant one.

But funnily enough, you don’t seem to notice anyway.

“Hmmm, I do love my job,” you answer, “I have a lot of fun organising stuff. Doing something good for other people, right? See them enjoy it. I mean, of course there are days when things don’t go as planned, but.”

You lift a shoulder, indulging in the final remnants of your chewy mochi and the melted matcha ice cream inside.

“I know. It happens to me, too.”

“Really? How?”

Jungkook waves towards the sky, lists, “Heavy rain, lots of traffic, too spontaneous, issues with the camera… etcetera. Anything can happen.”

“Yeah — I get it. But yeah, I do love doing this. I meet a lot of nice people, too. And I guess that makes me feel very… blessed? It puts things into perspective.”

“How so?”

“Like, it makes you see that most people aren’t bad.”

Huh. Odd. Not that he’d ever deem the entire globe vile, putting a standardised label that he can impossibly prove. But as far as he has seen… too many people aren’t good either.

“Really?” he asks. “That’s a lucky thing to experience.”

You look genuinely surprised, turning towards him when you ask, “You don’t?”

“Uhm — rarely. I do enjoy photography. Always have.” His mind zooms into a glinting memory from the past, and his shoulders and voice rise when he recalls, “Y’know… My dad got me one of those yellow disposable Kodak cameras when I was a kid. I loved it so much.”

You nod; if he didn’t know better, he’d almost say you look… delighted. Actually interested.

“And events and weddings,” he continues, “they’re beautiful to capture. It’s probably the lights and the pretty people. And just… the memories?”

This time, he looks away, straight to the road; if he hadn’t, he’d know that your gaze is definitely fond now. No doubt about it. You listen in closely.

It’s the first time he’s talking to you like this, or to anyone — or for this long, for that matter. Most of your conversations were fleeting, fiery, a petulant back and forth that — he now realises — could’ve been something else, something better, too.

“But then it just sucks when so many of them can’t appreciate it properly,” he explains, raising his hands to emphasise, tone galled. “I mean, I look at my camera and I see a tool to create art. It’s… nothing I take for granted. Just think about it.”

The ball of fire in his chest grows; he feels it warm up, gassed-up. “A thing that can hold onto moments in absolute high definition, so that you can still remember them years later? The 18th century couldn’t have imagined. They needed to commit everything to memory just like that.”

“Wow, Jungkook… You really do love this, too.”

His arms fall to the side. He inhales the fresh flurry of air. Rethinks his passion for his job and says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do.”

“…But?”

He knows what’s missing.

“I love the art, but I hate the clients. The event hosts. Not you, but the one even above you.”

Jungkook reckons this was a confession that long sat on his tongue unmentioned. Of course he thought about it; is always reminded when he attends these functions, standing at the back, at the front, left and right, unnoticed and taken for granted.

But now that it’s out and that he’s finally verbalised it to somebody… it definitely liberates something in his head.

You see his issue with these gatherings; he knows you do because he’s figured out this much. You’re filled with enough empathy, sympathy, every grand word ending on the same syllable to acknowledge his disappointment.

But you’re filled with humour and absurdity, too, evident in the answer you provide to diffuse the tension.

“So, that’s why you’re always in a foul mood.”

“Shu—”

“Shut up, yeah, yeah.” You giggle, but then halt for a moment, toying with the rim of your paper cup, “But you know, I think art is worth something even if just one person appreciates it. If it helps in any way… I’m always impressed. And I always appreciate it when I call you and you come despite finding me so annoying.”

One corner of your lips lifts, the smile humble and light; sends a pang of guilt through him. Have you always been so nice?

“Also, I do see the pictures almost every single time,” you add, “and you’re so good at this. At the job itself and the editing afterwards. Honestly.” 

“…You think?”

Damn.

Jungkook would probably not bask in this hobby, continue his job if he wasn’t proficient in what he does. He’s known about his prowess ever since he was young.

But praises do offer a sense of magical warmth, don’t they? He doesn’t think any creative mind ever sickens of such unexpected support. And the way you say it… makes him want to never lay down his camera.

“Of course, yes,” you confirm, “not to shoot up your ego, but… you once sent a set of pictures where I found one of me. Don’t know if you even noticed? I was wearing that lilac dress and curls, I still remember — and—”

Stuck on the mention of your clothing, he immediately attaches a detail to the memory, “Sleeveless dress. Long silver earrings, right?”

“Oh… right…”

Right.

He won’t mention that he looked at that picture for just a second longer than at the others that night. Noticed for the first time how pretty you were. Not too deep of a thought, a twelve second stare, but… you wore this vibrant smile on that picture, and in some way, he did hope you’d see it, too.

It seems you did. He feels satisfied, proud even.

“Right,” you repeat, your defences somehow down, “uhm. I printed the picture. Still have it somewhere.”

Jungkook has already often wondered what people do with the pictures; put them in albums? Frame them and pin them over their couch? Right now, he also wonders — do you look at it a lot?

And this again begs the question — when you do, does your decision to book a vendor like him fill you with pride? Like your choice was right?

“That’s so nice,” he says.

“All that to say,” you inhale, “that I think you’re really fucking skilled.”

Woah. You weren’t quite certain if your consolation would bring him any solace, but you’ve done far more than that. You’ve shown him that you see what he does — and isn’t this what every artist craves? To be seen?

The tension buzzes between him and you like electricity; he doesn’t know if it’s just him lighting up or if you’re feeling a kindred link, too. But it’s somewhat intense in this moment of walking under the stars, surrounded by quietude and absolute pose.

So much so that he’s soon submerged by an odd urge to make the intensity wane, “Hey, does this feel to you like… a cliché chick flick kinda dialogue?”

You know…

The moment when two find an empty street in the middle of the night, realising that a conversation with each other isn’t the end of the world after all?

That type of thing?

But he doesn’t say any of it.

“Yeah? Maybe. But it’s also true,” you argue, “I’m an honest person and I don’t think I’d say anything I didn’t mean.”

“Ah, yeah?” Jungkook voices, taking the emptied out ice cream cup and throwing it into the bin on the side of the road, along with his own.

“Mhm, one hundred percent,” he hears you say, followed by a light, quiet smacking noise.

He doesn’t see what you’re doing until he arrives back where you stand; watches you lick the sticky rest off the pad of your thumb, smiling when you stare up at him again. It’s a mundane gesture; he’s done it ever since he was a kid.

But somehow, he can’t stop looking.

Might be the way your lips curve when you do it, or how your eyes smile when your mouth does. The authenticity you portray is rare; perhaps he just confused it with madness until now.

Seconds pass, and with that, your smile does, too. As it fades and drops, replaced by a curious expression and big eyes, you soon mutter, “What?”

There’s no response to that, really. He doesn’t know either.

He doesn’t understand how you turned out to be so right. How it’s such an ultimate truth that a serene night brings out a dreamy alter ego, hitherto undetected. Jungkook has never felt like much of a romantic, but right now, he thinks he’s on a different plane of reality.

This doesn’t feel like Earth; and the town doesn’t feel like the one he struts through during the day.

So maybe it’s not that wayward or groundless for him to lean in. To bend a bit more. Further and further until you laugh nervously; he knows you’re preparing to crack another joke, but you remain silent as he approaches.

Gauges your reaction. Will you run? You aren’t.

Instead, you gulp; let your pupils fall to his piercings, just when his own gaze moves to your lips. His right hand, tattooed, led by its own will, reaches for your cheek until he’s cupping it; and suddenly, his mouth parts — what’s happening? — and then—

And then, a vehicle roars from afar.

Both of you hear the motorcycle before you even see the blinding white light; he grips your arm, probably too harshly, dodging the street with you and jumping onto the pedestrian walk.

One must be crazy to still drive through the city at this hour. Right?

You pant, mixed with insane chuckles of relief, “Shit. We almost died.”

“We didn’t,” he refutes, “we had plenty of time.”

“Oh no,” you stretch the last word, eyes squinting. An accusing forefinger points at him before you deduce, “We almost died because you like me. Of all things!”

“I do not. You just looked kinda cute.”

Jungkook might’ve attempted an indifferent answer, but instead, he steered into an excuse that you do not accept at all. Your smirk is telling and satisfied, and if he wasn’t trying to prove a point, your Cheshire Cat grin would’ve made him laugh, too.

“But you did almost kiss me,” you persist.

Ugh, you’re bold. Laughing like it means nothing; no embarrassment, no shy restraint in you. Which is probably not too bad; somehow even charming. Explains the rosy dust on his cheeks at least. He feels it in the heat, can’t believe he almost kissed you just now.

Why does he feel like a hormonal adolescent? It’s not like he’s never kissed anybody.

You’re still enclosed by pure delight, nudging his arm repeatedly, annoyingly. And when he doesn’t answer, choosing reticence instead, you nearly shriek, as if he confirmed all you just said.

His instinctive hand slaps up to your mouth, covering it, shushing you. You’re still smiling, working on removing his palm, but before your nonsense can proceed, a sudden light flickers in the corner of Jungkook’s eye.

Immediately, he seeks out the source, soon finding a room in the house left to him lighting up. You woke somebody, it seems. A silhouette becomes clearer, its edges more refined with every second, and just before the owner of the place can shove the curtains aside, you grip Jungkook’s hand.

Within a moment, he finds himself tugged away by you, running, nearly stumbling over his own feet. You blurt, “Better get away before they kill us.”

As you leave the tranquil settlement behind, Jungkook still hears a voice from an open window, cursing the younger generation as they do; and then, out of the damn blue, a fucking dog barks.

When you turn over your shoulder, mouth dropping open, Jungkook knows you’re thinking the same as him — this happens outside of cinematic universes, too?

It takes a minute until you’ve reached another road again; one of the kind he’s more familiar with. The city type. The two of you come to a halt near some pole, and you let his hand go, leaning against it.

For a moment, you work on catching your breath, Jungkook’s hands settling on his thighs. And then, when your eyes meet, you burst into a fit of laughter, followed by a playful wiggle of his eyebrows to which you respond, “Don’t act innocent. This is your fault.”

“What? You were lau—”

“Because of you! Oh, I know you want me so bad.”

You’re jesting, of course. Swaying your head, poking his chest, a brat straight out of some TV show. But what you can do, he’s been perfecting for years.

So he answers in kind, “And if I did?”

Only for you to utter something that not even his brain can compute.

“If you did? Then… I think I’d let you.”

“Ah… Yeah? Why?”

“Because— I think you’re just half as bad.”

His snicker is half amused, half flattered. He purses his lips, nodding, and then declares, “You’re just a quarter as bad. But guess I’ve gotten so tired that I’ve started doing weird shit.”

You click your tongue, puffing out a breath, instantly reacting when he only flicks your chin and then walks away. Your startled expression prevails, a distance between him and you established, but just as he puts his hands in his jeans, he hears you finally follow.

“Hey,” you voice from behind, tapping his arm, “are you really tired?”

“I was kidding, but. Honestly? A little.”

“…Hmm. You know, my friend lives in an apartment nearby. Jieun? Didn’t move too far from her old home. We could stop there.”

Jungkook’s left eyebrow leaps up, surprised by the suggestion; the idea doesn’t sound too bad. But…

“Wasn’t the deal to go around for a whole night, though?”

“Ohhh. Are you starting to like it?”

You’re observant, he’ll give you that.

“I’m just saying,” he adds, “and also, would she just let a stranger in?”

“Oh, she’s very civilised and hospitable. She wouldn’t mind, and she’s known me for ages. She trusts me.” Maybe you detect the hesitation in his eyes and the twitch of the corner of his lips, because you immediately carry on, “We can just stay for an hour and then go.”

“Would she be awake, even?”

“She’s a night owl. I know that.”

“Uhm…” 

He ponders. In some way, he’s kind of liking the breeze, the quiet side of this town. But… would Jieun find that weird? Then again, can he say no? You’re ogling at him with these hopeful eyes; maybe you need the rest, after all.

“Okay,” he says; he even thinks you jump a bit in joy, nodding.

“Okay! You’ll like her. We can leave with newfound energy afterwards. Okay, cool.”

That’s all you need to lead the way. You look around a little, making sure you’re approaching the right direction, and when you find your confidence again, you march ahead.

Your walk is energetic, not too idle anymore, your beam as dashing and fervid as ever. Jungkook knows his way around editing programs; he’s added wings to pictures before or removed unwelcome passersby on an otherwise great photo.

He even understands how to surround a body or silhouette with a glow; but he’s never seen it around an actual person outside of all these graphics editors before.

Your body is so clearly encircled by it.

Bedazzling.

Screw the 18th century. Even in these modern times of advancement, Jungkook doesn’t think he needs a camera to commit you to memory.

3:25AM, Her

You avert your eyes from the phone and turn towards Jungkook, reaching him where he’s planted firmly in front of the apartment complex. He’s been waiting, back settled against the wall, and as you near, his eyebrows rise in question.

Your friend didn’t respond until now — but just as you foretold, she’s still awake at this ungodly hour.

“Okay. She’s home, but,” you explain, already ringing the bell to her apartment, “she said she’d be leaving soon. Sounds like she’s in a rush. Typos and all.”

Jungkook waits until the buzzing sound of the opening door ceases and you’ve stepped inside, leading him up the stairs, and then wonders again with big eyes, “And she’ll just let us stay? Alone at her apartment?”

You wave his concerns off with a hand’s gesture, “She trusts me, dude. I’ve done this a couple times.”

“What for?”

Hm… you dive back into the old days. Some new, some old. What were they again? They’re mostly blurred, but some of them are carved in your core memory.

“Oh, just…” you reminisce. “If I wanted to meet guys and wouldn’t want to bring them home back when I was still with my parents? Or when I’d need a night to sober up. They would’ve killed me if I’d come home drunk. And Jieun moved out early.”

“How old is… Jieun anyway?”

Old. Not really, but you like to vex her to the point of a pout. She’s patient, but she’s also an incredibly close friend — you allow yourself to be a brat with her and she allows herself to roll her eyes.

“Early 90s kid?” you guess. “A little older than us.”

‘93, as far as you remember.

“Ah. Damn,” he voices; you don’t know why.

“Okay.” You climb the last steps to the second floor, halting in front of a white door with a copper number six on top of it. Knock thrice. “Here goes.”

She might’ve been getting ready close to the door, working on her shoes or questing for her keys. Because she opens mere three seconds later, with a radiant smile on her face able to melt hearts, and a comfortable attire that’s, however, not comfortable enough to wear at home.

A thin sweatshirt and a bun, loose strands framing her pretty face, and shorts that are definitely meant to be worn outside. She won’t be here for long. And you’re focused on this very fact and her hurry so much that you nearly don’t register how shy Jungkook gets.

His voice is somewhat smaller than before when he looks at her; your eyes shift to him, and he’s blinking before he finally breaks and mutters, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hey!” she retorts; she looks so sweet saying it. You understand his perplexity. “Date?”

“Nah. Just a friend,” you answer, which, yet again — very confusing — makes him hum in question. If he started regarding himself as your date all of a sudden, you swear…

You smile.

“Just a friend,” you repeat.

“Fabulous. So you’re not walking around alone, at least,” Jieun concludes, letting you in. In the living room, a hand on her kitchen island, she points through an open door, “Okay, so, the guest room bed is made. Use blankets on it, if you want to rest.”

Her finger shifts to signal to the entrance you came through, imitates a pulling motion, “Don’t worry about locking the door whenever you leave. Also got some leftover food in the fridge, but there’s also cup ramyeon and some frozen pizza in the freezer. Sorry… I need to go shop—”

But you interrupt, shaking your head, “Oh, no worries, really. We just ate, so we’ll just stay here for a little, work off the food coma and leave. Won’t damage anything.”

“I know you won’t, baby.”

She moves to fetch her purse from the couch, and Jungkook uses the moment to whisper in your ear, “Where is she going anyway?”

You don’t know; you shrug your shoulders, pursing your lower lip, but echo his question a moment later, louder than him, “Where are you going anyway?”

Previously cramming in her purse, checking it for content, she looks at you again, telling you, “Ah… Jongsuk is having a bad night and wants me to come over.” Regarding Jungkook, she adds, “My boyfriend. He’s an insomniac and got stoned tonight, too, and just—”

Jieun blows a raspberry, raising a hand for a whatever gesture, and Jungkook mumbles, “Oof. Sounds…”

“Yeah… I know. In any case. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

“Thanks, Jieun,” you repeat.

She nods once more, waving her tiny hand and flashes one last smile before she’s out the door and has left you in full silence. You shuffle your feet for just a second before you look at him again; he still looks somewhat in a daze.

So you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing.”

Nothing, right… that’s what they all say after seeing Lee Jieun for the first time. You try not to think too hard about the teeny tiny sting in your enormous, delicate heart. Only let him know, “Don’t worry too much. What could happen? She does trust me.”

You take a couple steps towards the bedroom she offered you, and you hear him follow. Look at the neatly made bed, a thought occurring; but you don’t entertain it yet. Only add, “Besides, she owes me.”

He chuckles. “That’s how you live your life, huh?”

“It’s alright. We’ll just be here for an hour. She’s known me all her life, so nothing to doubt here. And also, think about it,” the tip of your forefinger taps against your temple, “even if something did happen or went missing, she’d know where to find me and whom to report.”

He waits, ogles at you. Then presses his lips together, nods as if you made all the sense in the world, and lifts a shoulder — agreeing, “If you say so. Then uhm — let’s lay down for a bit?”

“Sure! I’ll just sleep in her room, so you can have your privacy here.”

“Mhm. Okay.”

You stand at the door frame for a moment, feet unmoving.

He’s already turned away. And you regret not walking away when you watch him unabashedly take off the blazer and provide a glimpse to his snatched waist as inked fingers scratch his back briefly, shirt moving up. But then it’s covering his skin again.

Flawless back; pretty golden. A little further up, and you’re sure you would’ve seen strong shoulder blades, too. He’s worn fancy dress shirts at luxurious events before — you know many would kill for his built, because you’ve seen his bicep flex before.

You forget where you are for a second, but when he opts to turn, eyes on you for just a heartbeat, you stir. Blurt out an awkward apology, and then leave. Wish him a good night, barely waiting for one back before you close the door.

You laugh quietly at yourself.

Her room is just next door; you already mentally prepare for a nap. Meanwhile, Jungkook plumps onto the bed, groaning when the comfort hits, and works on getting used to the ceiling, if only briskly.

He only notices how much his head is spinning when he closes his eyes, ready to doze off. Should he set an alarm? He doesn’t want to still be here by the time Jieun returns. Maybe he should tell you, too.

But his body won’t move.

Yet, in the time he’s failed to make up his mind, he suddenly hears a knock at the door again. Must be you — must be telepathy.

He tells you to enter, and you do with a shy demeanour; only thirty seconds must have passed, right? A minute, tops. He looks at you in wonder, and you explain, “She uh— locked her room. No clue where the keys are. Guess that’s why she specifically pointed out the guest room.”

You nibble your lip, getting no answer back. He looks just as much out of ideas as you, and you still refuse to bring back the thought from before; yet, you ask, “What do we do now?”

“Well…” He looks around, though there is not much to take in. “I can sleep on the couch?”

“…The couch is too small.”

“Okay. Then I’ll just sleep on the floor.” He’s already working on getting up, no hesitation, scratching through his now messy hair, feet moving on the fluffy carpet. “I’ll take one of those pillows, though. Carpet should be good eno— what are you doing?”

You’ve charged towards the bed, climbed past him until you’re sitting behind him, facing his back and his craning neck. You say, “I’m not giving you that pillow.”

“Why?”

“You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“…Why not?”

You throw an unbelieving look, as if it’s obvious. Your flat hand gestures towards the carpet vaguely, and you argue, “It’s uncomfortable.”

“Listen, I should. This or the couch, nothing else left.” It’s crazy to you how he doesn’t even consider the bed instead of giving it up for you. “It’s just an hour. Don’t worry about it.” He stretches a hand towards you, curling his fingers in a grabby motion. “Come on. Gimme that.”

You’re astonished — beyond pleased about the fact that he cares like this. That he’s so… mindful and humble. You give up; he won’t falter and you know.

“Okay… then take this blanket, too.”

He grabs the second one that Jieun provided, head bowing a little as he says, “Thank you.”

The proceeding minutes you spend preparing for bed, slightly discomforted by your dress, pass in half-awkward, half-comfortable silence. He lays down on his unusual spot, and you cuddle into the blanket on your light, soft side.

As the rustling of blankets and sheets subsides, it gives way to the sound of the ticking clock; you focus on it, count the clicks like sheep.

But sleep doesn’t quite fall upon you yet, and you guess Jungkook feels similar when he calls your name and asks, “What does she owe you?”

Your head moves towards his voice, even though he can’t see you. “Huh?”

“Jieun. What does she owe you? And your coworker.”

“Oh. Uh. Honestly, just kindness.”

You can already see it — doe eyes rolling at another one of your cryptic answers. You know people don’t fathom your thoughts very well, and some feel annoyed by your dreamy outlook of the world. You don’t mind, but you wonder what he’s thinking.

But all he responds with is, “What?”

“Well, just. They’ve known me for ages. I’ve been there for Jieun for so long, and Jongin has always been so incredibly nice to me. Picked me up when I was dead drunk once and brought me home. Got me medicine and everything. And I’ve lent him some comfort over the years, too.”

It hasn’t been too long, so you remember. You’ve been good friends with him ever since you started your job; a steady part of your team. He and you have got each other’s back.

“These two are friends,” you say, “and I think kindness is the most we can give our loved ones.”

Jungkook hesitates. Have you bored him to sleep? Or is he pondering your words, thinking of you as weird? Maybe not—

Because he actually converses, asking, “You think? Doesn’t that mean we’re just kind to them then, so they can be kind to you in return?”

“I mean… yes and no. Owing might be the wrong word. I’m not nice to others to get something back. I’m like this because I want to be and because the world can be shitty and it’s important to be nice, and in return, I want people to be nice to me, too. It’s not an eye to eye kind of thing, it’s just about. Spreading affection in relationships. It’s what they’re here for.”

“…Hm. Is this why you’re never rude to me? Even when I deserve it,” he asks, registering a hum. “You know… you think really… uniquely.”

This is a nice way to phrase it at least. People like you; you’re good with them. But sometimes, they can be mean, too. Not that you mind. It’s natural — people occur in all types and shapes.

“But is it unique, though? Isn’t it a given?” you question.

“Yeah, probably, I just— never thought of it this deeply.”

“Mmmh. So is me thinking uniquely a compliment? I can’t say.” 

He laughs, and you join immediately, exclaiming an, “I’m serious!” in the middle of it all. Jungkook’s snicker is authentic, so you enjoy hearing it; but you like his answer even better.

“Maybe. I just… I feel like a lot of people try to be different these days. Or play a role to be perceived a certain way? But I think you’re genuine — you actually mean the things you say without any hidden intention to make people forcefully like you, right?”

An intention? Oddly phrased. You think, though… that what he said was nice.

Still, you confirm, “I don’t try to be anyone for people to like me.”

“I didn’t say otherwise! This is actually just what I meant. Besides, people like you anyway because you’re you.” As if he’s reading your mind. “That’s what I was saying.”

You hum, blinking at the ceiling and the little modern light hanging there, the beam off. The darkness pleasant. You conjure another question and ask, “So you think me being me is a good thing?”

You always considered it was. You like being you. But Jungkook didn’t like whatever makes up your personality — has this changed? Apparently.

“Of course,” he surprisingly answers, “it’s always a good thing. And just because I disagree with some of your characteristics, it doesn’t mean everybody will.” Oh. Well. But wait— “Or maybe, I’m just a moaner.”

Well.

“That you are,” you verify.

“Damn.”

“But, but— you’re kind, too, you know? Not everyone says the things you just said.”

“Maybe.”

“So…” you stall, rethinking his prior words. “Do you still disagree with all those characteristics of mine?”

Another joyous sound tumbles out of him, much in the form of a breather than a laugh; hushed, but you still hear it clearly. Perhaps you’re being a little awkward; but in all honesty, you hope he’s just finding it amusing, somewhat cute.

“I mean — you’re too blunt. But brave, like, I could never. The thing you did at the shop? Never. But this isn’t bad. And you aren’t bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His voice is a whisper. Reminds you of a feeling akin to temptation; your mind automatically imagines the susurrating sound near your ear, exhaling the very syllable he just did. Frankly, you’re absolutely tortured by the knowledge of him being this close.

That you could probably touch his face if you rolled over to the edge of the bed, letting your arm dangle, seeking his skin. That he’s in the same room, talking to you this gently, saying things that a girl doesn’t hear too often these days anymore.

There it is. The intrusive thought from before… prevailing.

And you’re tortured by it. But mostly, by the image of him standing in front of you between the houses just a little time ago, staring at you, pupils flitting back and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he neared you. How he almost kissed you.

You might’ve joked about it then, but deep down, and especially now, you’re intrigued by the idea. Of the fantasy of a what if — what if he’d actually kissed you?

Taking a deep breath, you look to the side, staring at the door and call, “Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Is it uncomfortable down there?”

“Uh… a little.”

You shuffle at your spot, turning to the side. “Just thinking. What good does it do if we don’t rest well? What are we here for?”

“…What are you talking about?”

Pause. Quietude. You close your eyes, then open them again.

You’re never shy; so you don’t deem it an advantage for yourself to turn timid now either. You tell him, “Come up. I know you want to. I know I want you to.”

He doesn’t say anything; you bite your tongue. Maybe it was a mistake. But then his voice chimes again, wondering, “Are you sure?”

Your answer is immediate.

“Of course. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay… okay.”

As he starts to move, you gulp. You make place on the bed, moving to your previous side, pushing the blanket aside in case he wants to slip under it, too. The motions of his silhouette seem uncertain as he makes his way up to you, as if he’s uncomfortable with it.

“I… Was I wrong…? Do you not want to?” you make sure.

“What?” you hear him say; see his head shake. “Ah, that’s not it. Just want to make sure you’re really okay with it. I’m not the type of guy to…”

“I know. It’s fine. I don’t think you are.”

“Okay.” The mattress bulges where he lays down before it evens out again. He emits a couple groaning sounds, probably glad to give his back something proper. You turn to him just when he says, “Honestly… that’s a little better, yeah.”

“Thought so. Are you tired?”

“Definitely.”

“But you’re not sleeping.”

“Because you’re talking.”

Wrong. There was enough silence for him to nod off before. He was the one who started the conversation at all; you were ready to turn and toss and rest eventually.

When you don’t respond, his head turns on his pillow, too; in the darkness that you got used to, you see his eyes twinkle. Both of you know that you’re looking at each other. And he’s kind of close — closer than you thought. 

And… if you’re not wrong, he just inched nearer only a nanomoment ago. He repeats in a whisper, once more accusing, “You’re talking, that’s why.”

“That’s really why, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“The only reason there really is?”

“What else could there be?”

You smile, brazen, letting out the courage you’ve gathered, “Well, I know what else it is for me.”

“Yeah?”

Daring a step further, you graze his shirt featherlightly; you don’t know whether he notices. Not until he moves his hand, fingers ghosting near yours.

Waiting until you reveal with sheer, sudden heart palpitations, “I… I want you to kiss me. You do, too, don’t you?”

He inhales, but doesn’t exhale. What does it mean? You don’t know.

You don’t know what it is until you hear the smile in his words, gentle yet tantalising when he says, “…I do.”

“Good. Good. Then kiss me.”

And the rest proceeds without hesitation and without another plea.

His body moves as if on its own accord; he seems possessed, or controlled by a puppeteer. Warm lips lock with yours before you can draw another breath.

They feel soft, full, like tiny pillows, a contrast to the metal of his piercings. And they move gently, so carefully, like he’s still scared of crossing a line despite your permission. But when you lean into him, hoping for more proximity, he blossoms a little. Initiates more.

Oh, he, too, has been waiting for this, hasn't he?

A hand, nearly as warm as his kiss, slithers up to your face, holding you closer to him. The bangs that so often cover his forehead are tickling yours now, his head tilting to give his cute nose more space.

And with that, he deepens the kiss, too. Dares a step further, separating your lips with his, trying things out. He gauges your reaction as the tip of his tongue sneaks its way into the mix, and the moment you do the same, he dives in properly.

Kisses you just a little harder, tasting you, sighing into the movements as if all the weight of the world has dropped off his shoulders. As if he’s relieved, calmed down, resting for the first time tonight.

Yet, at the same time, he’s firing himself up — moving over your body slowly, holding onto your mouth to his best abilities, as if you’d disperse if he let go for too long. As if you’d change your mind.

He cages you in to keep you underneath, not touching your face anymore but shoving his fingers into your already tousled hair. If you were still in your right mind, you’d recognise how insane this situation is. Your younger self would’ve never predicted such a moment to ever become part of your life.

But it is… it is so clearly being played into your hard drive; somehow, you already know it’ll remain stuck in your memory: the way he’s kissing you, so thirsty, so insatiable. How he’s sighing, relaxed, yet sporting an audible heartbeat against your chest.

He uses moments of switching sides to breathe but continues right away; the keenness drives you crazy. You touch his shoulders and then wrap your arms around him firmly, making him hasten closer until he’s nearly falling onto you.

What in the heavenly make out sessions is this…

It’s nasty, yet sweet. Followed by quick breaths; it takes merely a minute until you feel his lower body grinding into you, his jeans tight around his crotch all of a sudden. And the second you realise he’s hardening beneath them, your body reacts.

Reacts so effectively.

Your lower tummy tickles, dampness pooling below as he pushes into you again, harder this time. You moan, enticed by your goosebumps and the heavy bulge. Solid enough for you to crave him within a moment’s notice.

And it only worsens threefold when he whispers, “Fuck… Somebody really knows how to kiss, huh?”

“You’re talking. What was this—” He so rudely interrupts with another peck, and you laugh into it. “Yeah, this…”

Your last word dissipates like candle smoke; you don’t even know why you bother to speak. Your voice is barely perceptible when his teeth remove the short sleeve of your dress, kissing your shoulder and then down to your cleavage.

It’s easy to remove your dress; it’s light, summer-y — but he doesn’t bare you just yet. Plays around at the mounds of your tits until he pushes the neck of the dress down a bit, asking, “May I take it off?”

Oh, if you could count the times you’ve imagined his veiny hands removing this damn dress just in the last fifteen minutes…

“Of course,” you permit, “do I look like I’d reject you?”

“Mmmh.” The hum is proud, satisfied, vocalised amidst another kiss to your clavicles. “Just making sure.”

Soft, warm hands trail up your leg, leaving a path of another set of goosebumps. You want him to stay right there on your thigh, knead the flesh, press into it, showcase the lust he feels in the beguiling pain.

But instead, he pushes up your dress, fingers ghosting over your ass — and when he doesn’t find your panties but only bare skin, he stops kissing you. Looks at you. Makes out the string of your thong a second later — in the dark, you discern the way his lips round in captivation.

He’s loving this.

He tugs at the string and lets it snap back into place; you gasp even though it doesn’t hurt, but it drives you mad when he states, “Wow. Very intriguing.”

Leaving it at this for just now, he kisses you again, tongues mingling once more before he releases a sharp, nearly aggressive hiss and mumbles, “Holy fuck. I can’t stop.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” you guarantee.

“Good. Good, good, good.”

The dress surrounds your waist now, stopping below your breasts, and Jungkook journeys down to drag his lips around the spots he hasn’t touched yet. As if he’s trying to familiarise himself with all of you, working towards the goal of memorising you entirely.

His teeth scrape at your pelvis just lightly, seemingly contemplating whether he wants to destroy these panties or not — but then decides against it. You wouldn’t mind; you’re not showing anybody anything of you tonight but him.

And you’re already such a mess; breathing so irregularly, letting out his name and quiet sighs. He should know he could do basically anything. That you’re ready for him.

But instead, he only curses again, sucking at your skin harshly, nails digging into your hips. And then, from below, you hear him say, “Want you to suck my dick so bad.” He moves up, fingertips on your cheek, rubbing himself against your underwear, and questions, “Will you suck my dick, baby?”

Oh, he didn’t just…

Oh, the way the pet name screws with your head is irreversible. You feel sick at the mention, breathing out hard, about to get up at the speed of light to swallow him fully; to the hilt.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction yet; you’ve gotten used to the darkness, and seeing the hazy insanity in his eyes spurs you on to play with him a bit more. So you lift your body, giving him hope, but then say, “I have a better idea.”

“Ah? Where are you going?”

“Wait.”

He quietens. Falls to the side and onto his back as he watches whatever you’re trying to do unfold. You look back at him for just a blink of an eye, but you immediately perceive the hand cupping his clothed dick, moving a bit, up and down.

“Okay. Should work on this first,” you say, straddling him backwards.

You hike up your dress more, baring your back to him, and you instantly hear the breath he releases. Feel the palm touching your spine, grazing it; you imagine huge eyes ogling at you like he’s reached nirvana. You so hope he’s looking at you like this.

“My God…” he only mutters, however, proving your point when he opts to get up. But you turn as much as you can, a flat hand pushing him down again, to which he complains, “What?”

“I told you to wait, silly. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure? You’re being pretty mean right now.”

“I’m not being mean. You’re just not patient,” you laugh. “Give me a second and I’ll wreck your world, ‘kay?”

“Ah?”

“Mhm.”

“That I wanna se— oh. Oh.”

Exactly.

Once you’re done pulling off the dress, you shift back, enough for your pussy to align with his gorgeous face. Jungkook instinctively grabs your ass to pull you lower, and you chuckle at the restless gesture.

But you need to focus; and as best and tidily as you can, you unbutton his jeans, zipping them open until you detect his shorts. He raises his hips to help you, and you bite your lower lip, crazed by the sight that awaits you once the jeans are halfway down.

The bulge is big indeed. The imprint is insane; the light from outside allows glimpses, and you salivate, bowing your head to kiss him above his underwear, feeling him stir. And he imitates, blowing against your wetness, his finger — middle one? — curling around the string digging between your ass cheeks.

When he frees your pussy, you feel it. It hits the air in the room coldly, a contrast to his hot breath. A second more and you might drip into his tantalising mouth, just how you’re drooling over the cock you finally set free.

It springs out, veiny under your touch. Hard. Thick and long. Everything good, a fucking ideal package. You scold him, “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

“Huh? I wasn’t hiding.”

“Now I realise just how mean you are, man,” you say, shaking your head, spitting onto the slit before wiping it off again with the tip of your tongue. He swears again. “Could’ve had this make me hoarse so long ago.”

“Fuck,” he replicates, “stop talking, or I’ll fuck this mouth of yours. You want to be hoarse so bad, then try me.”

“Is this a threat? You really think I won’t let you? Stay right there, little—” You look again. “Big man. You can do whatever you want, but wait a second, alright?”

“Nah. You’re not the only one teasing. You brat,” Jungkook whispers sharply, delivering a smack to your ass; you gasp. “I just…”

You don’t know what he just — you only know that he’s attaching his mouth to your cunt right away, thong pushed aside, diving in with a tongue so eager. You squint your eyes shut, lips parting, calling his name as he holds you there roughly.

He soon wraps his arms around your hips, like a belt, lips intense as he kisses you even wetter. The sounds he eludes are dirty, sinful; and the feeling of his piercings doesn’t add to your sanity. 

You decide to not let this distract you; he’s competitive, you realised, but you are, too. So you lean in, lips wrapping around the tip. Your right hand enfolds his cock, pumping him, tracing every firm vein that protrudes. He’s so pretty all around.

“Shit,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear; only continue to work your tongue around the head, setting the nerves alight as he’s doing for you.

You kiss down the shaft, licking and humming to create a sort of vibration. And then, you take him in as much as you can. Despite being large, barely fitting, soon hitting your throat, you try. Hollow your cheeks, bop your head, gifting him your attention.

But it’s hard. So hard because—

God, he’s lapping you up so good.

So hungry. Out to kill you as he releases the prior belt, bringing two fingers to your pussy and thrusting them into you slowly. Mouth and digits; both at once. Thumb against the clenching hole between your ass.

He’s distracted every now and then, much like you, but he still maintains a steady pace. Cruel… so cruel. Those damn fingers propelling into you, harder sometimes before they slow down again. Curling to hit you just right, massaging the rough, walnutty spot.

Oh, Jungkook knows… knows exactly what to do.

They don’t make men like him anymore.

Your ass clenches when his skills exceed your expectations and he rubs your insides particularly well, mouth just right above your clit as the tongue circles around it. It’s nearly overwhelming; you could cry with this mouthful of dick impaling your throat.

He feels so good on you. So good in you. You want all of you filled, not just your mouth. So you soon let go with a plop, a string of saliva so lewdly connecting your mouth and his member, and you wipe your mouth.

Tell him, “This should be enough.”

And he agrees immediately, smacking his lips, as if licking up the remnants of his food, “Fuck yes. Enough.”

You want to get into the next position, put in some work, but what you don’t expect is that Jungkook is already planning a step ahead. Tapping your ass with his big manly palm, pushing you off of him until you’re crawling on all fours.

Submitted to him. And you don’t mind a bit — just for now, just for him, you’ll give into this because you’ve been craving it. It’s okay; you vow to yourself that in a while, you’ll wreck his shit just as much.

On your elbows and knees, you hear him shifting, the mattress dipping, his knees nearing you and closing your legs in. The palm covering the right side of your ass causes it to jiggle, and when you push your butt towards his pelvis, he praises, “The way you know what to do without me needing to tell you. How convenient.”

“Well,” you breathe out, “it’s not my first rodeo. But do make it the best… okay?”

“No pressure at all, huh? I’ll try my best.”

You want to react, bring a laugh straight out of your throat, but Jungkook is faster. The reaction comes alright, but not as you wanted it to. But rather in a high-pitched moan, arms quivering when he fists his cock, guiding it to your leaking cunt, and rubs the tip between your pussy folds.

You reckon he’s testing out how eager you already are; you contemplate on telling him. On pleading, on saying something that might drive him to action. You don’t mention a single word, though; only let your ass speak once more, steering towards him until he gets the message.

He must have.

Because he clicks his tongue as if to admonish you for your shortage of patience, though only briefly before he surrenders to the itch you cause. Scratching without hesitation now, he finally helps you lose your damn panties and then dips himself into you slowly.

Of course; with a length like his, there’s no way you’d be able to survive a quick push. Jungkook knows to be cautious, penetrating you sweetly; an oxymoron in a moment like this. Your fingers digging into the sheets reveal as much; there’s not much going on yet, but you’re already holding onto the soundness of your mind so desperately.

“Shit, what the fuck,” you murmur, your turn to let out profanities; you’re sure this isn’t your last. “You scared of something, Jeon? I’m… I have an IUD.”

“Scared? No. You’re not an idiot, right?” he whispers. “You would’ve told me if you couldn’t do it like this. Much rather…” He breathes heavily between his words. “I’m taking you in, y’know? Enjoying — fuck — how wet and warm you are… Gonna wreck you raw, though, no p-problem.”

No, your foul words were certainly not the last for tonight; his dick is just halfway through when he stops and another tumbles out of you. He drags the thickness back, then inside again.

Your walls are occupied to their last inch, and you know you could take all of him if you just gave yourself some time — but somehow, his care turns you on even more.

Goddamn, he’s good. All of him — his dick, his voice, his mouth, his touch. He’s so— nnghh…

You have never witnessed his fingers do much more than take the pictures you love. Whenever he operates the button with his forefinger, flexing the inked crown above his knuckle, you already know the man has a talent unmatched.

But right now… right now you have an entirely different perception of these same digits.

Like, when he leans in a bit, still deep inside you, undoing your bra in a smooth motion. Or when he caresses your back, along your spine, contradicting the touch with a harsher, harder jab now.

And shit, when he pulls your ass cheeks apart, digging in further, fucking through your seeping hole until he’s covered in slick, too. It must look so good to him; incredibly memorable.

Your whimpers are quiet and gentle, matching the way he fucks you, only rising in volume when he decides to push another inch in. You behave; you whine softly; that is until all of a sudden, he pulls back most of his cock and shoots back in, colliding with your ass with a slapping sound.

Yelping, you hold the sheets until your fingers hurt, and he bolts forwards, a hand slamming your mouth shut and muffling your mewls. Way too close to your ear, he says, “Sh sh sh… my God. Jieun has neighbours, babe — don’t spoil her reputation.”

He proceeds to kiss the skin under your ear, taking your arms captive until they’re pinned to your back. Fingers intertwine messily, holding your limbs in place, and as he frees your mouth again, you laugh — it’s all you can do to not feel too weirded out by the mention of Jieun’s name right now.

You tell him, “Use my panties then.”

“Your panties, huh? Do you want me to?” You nod, but he’s not obliging enough to give into your wishes. Teasing you to no end. “Nah. I’ll just…”

Jungkook doesn’t finish the sentence; what he does is much more alluring, nearly forcing tears of lust to your waterline. He grabs the back of your neck, urging you to look at him, and just as you register his face close to yours, he kisses you again.

Your body immediately blossoms. You breathe as much as the kiss allows, yielding to his tongue. Let him push you down and into the mattress, imprisoning you under him. And he kisses you… kisses you… kisses you more…

Basks in your dimmed moans as he hits from behind again, hard. Sheathes himself inside you thoroughly and with impact; he’s enjoying the fact that you want to yell, but need to restrain yourself at this time of the night.

Because he’s right. You don’t want Lee Jieun to earn looks in the morning because of you.

As if provoking you, he blatantly asks, “You good?”

“Yes— yes!”

“Mhm…”

He’s out of breath; can barely emit another word. But he doesn’t waste any moment at all; kisses your neck, bites your earlobe. Pushes his hands under your body to get ahold of your tits. Fucks you into space, lifting one of your hands to your face, entangling his fingers with yours.

You shift up and down the mattress, just a little; the position, with him on you, doesn’t allow too many extreme movements, and you’re more than fine with it. There’s something about him going unhinged on you like this.

But… it does awaken the need to retaliate, too.

So you use the opportunity when he decides to pause, running out of energy, gasping for breath. He leaves you empty and yearning, pulling back and sitting up, and judging from the touch on your tummy, you assume he wants to flip you on your spot.

Instead, however, you turn on your own accord, both palms that he held captive minutes ago shoving at him. He produces a strange sound as he falls backwards, landing on the mattress and onto the pillow with big eyes that almost don’t fit his Greek God-esque physique.

Goodness, the damp dark hair. The abs. The pecs. The nipples…

You might dribble onto his sweaty, shiny skin. And you don’t veil your innermost thoughts this time, straddling him as you say, “My turn. Need to ride you so bad.”

He visibly relaxes; leads his fingers to your hips, thumb drawing patterns on them. His tongue darts out to play with the lip rings, and he eyes you up and down. He’s taking you in for the first time properly, just as you are him.

Just as your eyes drifted over his muscular body, he now makes stops along the journey — your pussy on the length of his cock. The tits and the perked nipples. The ruined hair, sticking to your collarbones.

You wonder how he likes what he sees.

Probably enough if he can respond with something like, “I won’t stop you.”

Good to know.

So you take a comfortable seat on top of him, still keeping him down, lining up your sex with his. When you welcome him in again this time, you do so fully. No slow torture, no waiting. You claim your throne until your ass hits his hardened balls.

He says, not quite expecting an answer, so you don’t give one, “You’ll kill me today, right?”

And then you start. Put in all the effort you can gather. He feels heavenly inside you, the perfectly curved length moving just the way it needs to. His groans and calls of your names sound promising, telling; you suppose you’re doing a good enough job if his eyes roll back like this.

The hands on your hips push into your flesh more, and when you remove one and bring it to your mouth, sucking his forefinger with your eyes set on him, he loses his shit. Starts pumping up from below, meeting your up-and-down ministrations.

“Shi— what— do you think,” he attempts, stagnant breathing, “you’re doing…”

But he’s grunting in ardour, so you don’t stop; don’t let him take over fully just yet. No — you roll your hips, bend your back, catch a patch of his hair and then angle your body to crash your lips onto his. 

The kiss weakens his defences. For a moment, you do feel his nails bruising your skin, but another second later, his touch is as soft as a feather. He’s so ultimately at your mercy that he lets you trace his abs and kiss his pecs.

Lets you get into a crouch, your palms settling below his chest for support. And then… then you navigate north and south, repeatedly, fucking him into you with vigour. He throws his head back, but then looks at you again, blinking fast before his eyes squint shut once more.

“The fuck are you—” he tries, but you start circling his cock again, moving in eight-curves, seeking support in his biceps.

“What?” you voice. “Not good?”

“You fucking— kidding me?” His lower lip trembles when he parts his mouth. You see it even with the lights dimmed. “This is such… a good fucking pussy. I was an idiot to push you aside.”

You’re too dazed to really pout, but you do hear the undertone; ask to clarify, “You’re just saying that f-for… getting my pussy, huh?”

“What— no. Fuck no. Look at me.” His hand reaches out, fingers poking into your cheeks, and he pulls you down to him, makes you meet his eyes. You slow down. “I wouldn’t just do this for any pussy— I… not with you. I don’t just. I don’t just go home with anybody. ‘Kay?”

His words bloom in your chest like a bouquet of flowers. In such a vulgar moment, you shouldn’t be feeling like this, but you can’t help but acknowledge the warmth spreading throughout your body. Burning up your already aflame muscles.

You want to know more; so you query sneakily, “What does this mean?”

“What it means?” he echoes, words blurry, as if drunk. “That you’re beautiful. And… honestly, kind of cool. So annoying but so fucking funny and— hot—”

“I am? Look at this,” you say, still moving but tired; touching his face, his cheeks, his sweet nose, “look at you…”

“No.” He grits his teeth. You don’t know what comes over him, but he’s inhaling way too deeply, lightly aggressive again as he retorts, “Look at fucking you.”

And with that, he gets what he desired earlier; flips you over, climbing over you. With your shield lowered, you didn’t expect this, and now you’re right where you began. And for some reason, the sharp jaw, the furrowed eyebrows, the starved look hits you even harder than before.

The many inches he sports fell out as he took over, but as he plunges into you again with embarrassing ease, something feels different. How he looks at you. How he touches you, pushing your hair back, kissing your lips with such softness.

And how he holds you when you finally see the stars you waited for, his face in your neck, his thumb on your cheek, his palm on your jaw. Kissing your shoulder, delighted as you seek an anchor in his back, tightening around him impossibly as he fucks you through your high and your broken moans.

“Jungkook—” you repeat over and over, and in return, he mutters constant, “I know, I know.”

Again and again and again until his sounds become more uncurbed. Only syllables, rumbling, his chest vibrating against yours until he lifts himself up and retracts his cock.

His pupils shake as he jerks himself off, and you know what he’s seeking, quickly getting to your knees, helping out. You replace his hand with yours, sticking out your tongue before you engulf his dick rapidly.

In surprise, he lets out, “Oh, fff—”

Shit, how he sounds. And how wicked he feels in your mouth, tasting like you, tasting like him. Wet and slippery, his balls hard when you cup them. And then— a mere moment later, he’s shooting ropes of white down your throat.

You’ll never get used to the feeling. You didn’t with your exes, didn’t with any other guy you’ve been with. It’s sudden, your gag reflex kicking, but you don’t want to stop until he has.

Sticky and hot, you let him; look up to him. His jaw glimmers due to the sheen of sweat, and he holds your hand to keep himself upright. Nearly growls when he’s done, and then calms down bit by bit. Pulls out of you. Plumps back onto his ass.

Catches his breath; and once the two of you have relieved your burning lungs, you with your legs under your butt, you look at each other again. A sudden laugh. He lets his head drop onto his shoulder, and then shakes it before getting back on his knees, nearing your joyous form.

The last kiss of the night is endlessly more chaste. No tongue, no making out. Just a couple pecks, a hand around the nape of your neck, noses grazing. Once, twice. And then, he’s smiling again.

You tell him, “Can’t believe this actually happened.”

“Crazy… right?”

“Crazy, yeah. We…” You gulp. “We can leave it right here, though. Guess we were both riled up.”

He nods, humming, looking to the side. “We could. But we don’t have to. It felt too good to forget, you know?”

You gleam and glow; if you could, you’d curl your fingers into fists, screeching like an excited high schooler in her room, acknowledged by a crush. But you only press your lips together, corners twitching up, cheeks hot.

Then, you say, “You know what… I might just agree.”

“Good.” Another one of his stares to the side, through the door of the room. “You think we should very quickly and very harmlessly use Jieun’s shower? She probably wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t think she would. But she’d certainly know what happened.”

“Least of our concerns,” he argues, getting up stark naked. He pats your thigh and then tugs at your arm, adding, “We’ll be tidy. And then we can rest a bit and leave. Am too fired up anyway.”

You know things might change again once you’ve slipped into your clothes and walked out into the night air. Perhaps the passion was reserved for this very room, actually a result of unbridled lust and tension.

But you think it’s okay. It’s okay as you giggle in the shower, flirting and bantering.

Because even if you part from Jeon Jungkook and all this as just a saccharine memory, you’re ready to seize just a little more of this stolen moment before reality sets back in.

5:12AM, Him

Whether it’s the numbers glowing on his digital watch or the fact that the two of you didn’t rest as much as you’d anticipated after all, he doesn’t know.

The residual heat of the past hour has warmed his body and relaxed his muscles; your touches still haunt him, crawling over his skin and sitting on his knees, tempting them to buckle. And your voice, your sounds… like a ghost in his mind.

And you urging him to climb the nearby hill with you, surprisingly steep, doesn’t help. He doesn’t know why you’d choose such a place at such an hour. The occasional forest around you is dark, chirping, and the road is empty.

Perhaps you feel secure in the presence of another; in this sense, it’s even flattering that you trust him this much.

But he’ll admit that his still wobbly condition and this stop of the night are slowly bringing him to his limits. The blazer, at least, is already hanging over his arm, giving him more space to breathe.

You’re piloting the way, careful, navigating with the help of the light beaming from the occasional street lamps. Jungkook sighs in a half-complaint when the road doesn’t end, nobody around far and wide.

You’re similarly out of breath when you turn to look over your shoulder, barely for a moment before you continue to escort him further up. Then, you encourage, “Come on! We just rested. How are you already tired?”

“Woman. We’ve been walking for a pretty long time.”

“Uhmmm,” you exclaim, swaying when you pull your hair over your left shoulder, “tell me something. What’s your sleep schedule usually like?”

Well, shit.

Jungkook can already tell what you’re referring to, but the counterargument already sits ready in his brain, just in case. Yet, he hesitates. Studies his surroundings to make sure he knows the way back, stalling on purpose, and when you ask, “And?”

He answers, “Uh. Late. I slept at 7AM just last week.”

“What?!” Your voice is high-pitched, in disbelief, and whatever point you wanted to make is stuck in your throat upon the revelation he divulged. “Holy shit, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but like,” he immediately works on justifying, making use of the comeback he’d already thought out, “I don’t walk around town, you know? I spend these nights eating or singing or—”

“Woah. You sing?”

“Yes, but. I will not sing to you now.”

He catches up with you in one long step, regarding your countenance. Even in the dim light and the pitch dark, he recognises the roll of your eyes, as if to say, “I wasn’t even going to ask.”

But instead of vocalising that very overt thought, your answer comes as smoothly as silk, “It’s fine. You sang to me plenty tonight.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, disguising his surprise as in the hike reasoned exhaustion. His mind needs a moment to fix itself, but when the balance is restored again, he wisecracks, “You’re one to talk. May I remind you of what you sounded like earlier?”

“You can. But I do remember myself, thank you.”

Damn it. You’re a step ahead all the time. He can’t even outsmart you the way he wants to.

“Way to diss me. You’re hardcore,” he complains, “and here I thought you were kind and sweet and all of that.”

Jungkook nearly retracts his statement, because you throw such a perplexed and disbelieving stare back that he shrinks, reprimanded, “Can’t I be both? A woman can certainly be both, man.”

“Of course,” he agrees, hands up as if he’s being arrested, “of course. You’re both, for sure.”

He anticipates more scolding and scowls, but it seems you’re satisfied with the response he gives. You grant him a pleased, lopsided smirk that resembles his own, and then sigh into the night air, long and deep before your breath morphs into—

A mixture of a gasp and a shriek.

“Wh—” Jungkook blurts, barely registering the movement scurrying from the left side of the forest into the trees right of him. “The fuck.”

And just as fast as your gasp appeared, it diminishes, too, turning into a throaty laugh. Jungkook listens in to the echo of the rustles, still seeing the bushes move; whether because of the animal that just flit past or the breeze, he can’t say.

His eyebrows shoot up when he looks at you, coming down from the quiet chuckle, and he only realises that your elated joy stems from the way he’s standing right now.

He must’ve instinctively dashed forward, an arm in front of your body, shielding it with his. It was just a squirrel, and in all honesty, it is the two of you who are trespassing, disturbing the forest life with your presence at such a time.

Yet, his reaction must’ve been immediate enough to protect you from whatever loomed in the dark, and you seem to like it for some reason. Because as he clears his throat and lets his arm sink, all you comment is a fascinated, content, “Wow.”

“Uh… all good.”

“Yes. All good indeed.”

Your voice is tinged with a combination of gratification and tease, as if you’re one utterance away from adding a little, “My knight in shining armour.”

Instead, you bite your tongue and look around; Jungkook sees what you perceive a mere moment later. The surroundings clear, the forest less dense; on the left side, a vast opening appears, a wide path ending in a… cliff?

And behind that, the town.

If there was a soundtrack to his life, he’d probably hear violins playing right now. Reminiscent of the wind, perhaps accompanied by piano keys that sound like the softly glimmering stars above.

The picture is breathtaking. Not that he hasn’t been at such a spot before — he grew up in a big, mountainous city.

But since he didn’t expect for the hill’s peak to allow such art, he’s a little more overwhelmed than he expected to be.

From behind, he hears you say, “In any case. Let’s rest here?”

“Uh-huh.”

It’s hard to avert his eyes. All night long, he’s only felt like this once; this marks the second time.

Gratefully, he walks up to where you’re making yourself comfortable, flattening your dress and settling your bag on your lap. You pull a thin, short cardigan out of it, slipping into it. It’s certainly cooler up here.

And then, you pat the spot next to you, and he lets himself fall with a sigh; it’s been a long night, and despite the restful-not-restful hour you spent at Jieun’s, it feels as though he’s truly easing up just now.

Jungkook puffs out a breath and takes another look. Properly this time, blinking as if this could help his eyes focus better. Gorgeous. He can see the river from here, flowing through the town in curves, like a snake.

He can’t see the entire city, but most of it; it goes up and down. Skyscrapers and then cosy houses like the ones before again. Mountains far away and the lights of the amusement park somewhere in the east. They’re the brightest of them all.

“Wait,” he says; you oblige, waiting, watching as he heaves the camera out of his bag.

He only registers you from his side vision, but he thinks you’re wearing a smile; confirmed when you breathe to speak again, and his eyes drift to you, immediately decoding the pride in your sparkling pupils.

Why do you look proud? Then again, he guesses he would, too, if he showed you something that he loved and you enjoyed it, too.

Thinking about it, he kind of wants to do it someday.

He pulls at his lower lip, releasing it soon, blinking again as if to release the thought. Instead, he listens as you ask, “You’ve never been here before?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hidden spot then.”

“It’s beautiful. Look there,” he points to a spot that you carefully follow, even squinting an eye shut; it makes him smile. “That’s the ferris wheel in the amusement park. Can you see? Wait.”

The camera comes to use when he points the lens at the direction he signalled towards, nimble hands working on zooming in. The picture unfocuses before the lights of the amusement park flicker again.

It’s late, he thinks; then again, the summer is coming to an end, the last nights used to keep such attractions open late. September will bring forth grey clouds again, leaving behind the prior season’s heat. Raining down on him, forcing the leather jacket out of his closet.

He likes it that way.

No offence to the summer whatsoever; but he likes the fresh gust dishevelling his soft hair. Likes it when the rain patters against the window glass so softly. He sleeps better that way, too.

Barely sitting for a moment, Jungkook already gets to his feet, nearing the edge until he’s kneeling on the ground. The distance has only faded by a couple feet, not much of a difference. But the feeling of the city nearing still persists somehow, tickling his mind just right.

He doesn’t know how long he squats there against the backdrop of the luminescent sea, but when he comes back to you, you’re still sporting that excited smile, eyebrows high. Your eyes fall to the camera, humming when he says, “Look. There.”

He magnifies the picture, every spot of it good enough to pin against the living room wall. Carefully, he hands you the camera; surprising, because he regards this pricey piece of plastic as sacred. You probably don’t know how big of a deal it is that he lets you handle it.

If you did, you’d never let him live it down.

You scoot closer, your temple now nearly touching his. You stare with an interest he hasn’t witnessed too often before. People do not care much about pictures of scenery; in the age of media, how could they anyway? When every stock picture is already memorised and used to the point of insignificance?

But you — your mouth parts as you switch around, taking in details.

“Good?” he asks.

“Beautiful,” you sincerely mutter, returning the camera to him. You hold it like a kitten; perhaps you do know what the gesture meant. “This is exactly why I wanted us to come here.”

The moment is so serene, like balm, and he nods along with your words, calmly conversing. So it takes a heartbeat to truly untangle your words in his mind and tie them with the meaning your intention conveys.

He assumed you were just showing him random spots of the town, to allow him a glimpse into your mind and to crack your true nature. All this time, he thought you wanted to lead him to bright spaces to lighten up his perception of you.

But what you’re doing instead is turn the spotlight towards him and what he loves.

“You… did it for me?” he asks.

You, casually, as if the thoughtful act doesn’t flood him with serotonin, reply, “Yeah. To capture a couple pretty pictures. You really do love it, so.”

“I do… wow, thanks.” He pauses. Looks down to the buttons on his camera, to his hands; then back to you. “You thought of it all, right? The nice places and the short rest at Jieun’s. Now this.”

“Hmm, tried as much as possible so spontaneously.”

“Thank you. Really.”

You return his gratitude with a polite nod, leaning away until you touch the backrest of the bench. Jungkook indulges in some more that nature offers, toying with the settings, zooming in just to observe sights from a closer point.

He doesn’t notice when you sigh or when you zone off; or when your thoughts shift back to the minutes and hours of the night. He doesn’t notice; and in return, you don’t know that he’s still thinking about the intention that brought him here; that you were attentive enough to truly show that some people appreciate art.

There aren’t only fleeting nights and then forgotten memories. Because this… this right here is a core memory.

Because of you.

Are you thinking the same? Are you proud that his enmity has faded, replaced by a tender smile? Satisfied that your efforts were worth it after all — a goal reached that you set for yourself earlier tonight.

Let me show you pretty places until the sun comes up, and if you still hate me by then, I will never talk to you again.

But…

He’d love to talk to you again.

However, your mind hasn’t quite drifted in this direction; in truth, he honestly can’t analyse or interpret you at all, because the question you pose next is far from what he’d been thinking about.

“Talking about pretty… uhm. Did you think Jieun was pretty?”

Jungkook blinks. One eyebrow cocks up; the camera drops back onto his lap. He flashes you a squinted look, a confused laugh erupting before he asks back, “What?”

“Ah, don’t lie. She’s very pretty.”

“Sure? She is.”

He’s nearly forgotten what she looked like. But beauty is still perceived and remembered — he guesses he found her good-looking.

“And she’s everyone’s type,” you prod, “what do you think, though? If she didn’t have a boyfriend, could you imagine liking her?”

Jungkook thinks about it. Not because he wants to, but because you seem to have found an odd interest in whatever attracts him; maybe your questions are leading up to something. So he’ll play along.

“Hmm… Maybe,” he answers.

“So she is your type.”

Or maybe, you’re trying to get something out of him that you want to hear specifically. You seem so shy about it all of a sudden; not necessarily an adjective he’d assign to you.

And coming from you of all people, he somehow does not find the topic interesting. It’s weird; he doesn’t want to talk about it; he doesn’t care about Jieun, either.

So he shrugs his shoulders indifferently, lifting his camera up again. He points it at you, eternalising your surprised expression just when you open your mouth to leave out a shocked, “Hey!”

“That’s what you get for asking such strange stuff.”

“It’s not strange! I’m just small-talking.”

“You do not small-talk.”

“It could be a deeper conversation if you just admitted it.”

He chuckles, turning his body towards you, half his leg on the bench, “Admit what?”

“The type thing!”

“Sure. I don’t just have one type, though, you know?”

The dispute brought your bodies a little closer, your face far enough for him to still identify his surroundings, but near enough for him to see your eyes twinkling. The light is dancing in them. And it’s much easier to focus on it when you silence like this.

Just for a second.

Because you breathe in again ten seconds later, lightly slapping the thigh resting on the bench. The touch is cursory, tiny, nothing to overthink about — but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to linger.

In some way, it still does.

You ask, “Okay? What are your types then?”

“Different girls.” This time, only one shoulder shoots up. His eyes match his pensive hum. “Whoever suits me. Pretty girls but also nice girls. Especially nice girls.”

“Alright, be honest,” you begin, mimicking his position until your leg lifts onto the bench, knee nearly touching his. You’re warming up now. Finally spitting the true question soon, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

Cute.

But he’s not giving in this easily.

He smirks; he feels the dimple on one side of his lopsided smile the moment you look at it. You’re distracted enough — so he uses the mental absence to attack you with yet another picture.

For a couple blinks, you’re startled — but as he reacts to his own nonsense with a content chortle, proud of his prank, you sigh. His shoulders rise with his sneering joy, head low as he inspects the picture just taken on his camera.

He zooms into your face, mouth open and eyes wide. You do look so pretty, he thinks — better even since you washed most of your make up off. Yet, he can’t contain himself when he shows you the screen, telling you, “You look alright.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes and your gaze to the view; your giggles start quietly, and then mix with his. Before—

They soon become part of a bad harmony as more voices join your very own night. Somebody is nearing. Jungkook hears the laughter already, but the road is curved and dark; so he can’t see them yet.

You might not have expected this, because you push closer to Jungkook on reflex; just at the same time as him. He didn’t know he had it in him to always stay so alert around you. Ready to throw himself at intruders.

Crazy.

But once the voices grow in volume, the two of you are soon met with a couple walking past. They’re in love, because amidst their titter, there’s another lewd sound. Or maybe, not too bad; playful kisses?

Yes.

The guy — he’s smooching his girl’s cheek, releasing with a, “Mwah” each time. Your initial surprise soon fades and turns into delight; Jungkook sees it in the way your smile returns. And in the furrowed yet amused eyebrows…

When the couple spots the two of you, they gasp; the girl’s hand immediately bolts to her chest, as if she just encountered a wild boar. But she catches herself soon, apologising, “Oh. Sorry. We’re sorry.”

You respond with an, “It’s okay!” Jungkook shakes his head politely to shrink their worries. They’ve walked away as soon as they came, but he still hears the woman’s scolding, effect lessened by the still occurring belly laugh, “I told you to calm yourself—”

As the world quietens again, Jungkook huffs, tilting his head as he deduces, “So late and yet… Not much of a hidden spot after all.”

“It feels like an ancient hill to me. I don’t often meet others here.” You breathe in the wind, then tongue your cheek. “They probably didn’t even notice where they were going. People in love never do.”

“I guess so.”

He guesses so.

It’s been a while since he fell in love.

Your head bobs once more before you lose yourself in the skyline, sucking in more of the crisp air that’ll grace you in the upcoming months. Fall is upon the town. He inbreathes the peace, too.

His hands operate on their own; one last time, he lifts it towards you, peeks through the lens again, adjusting the focus until the object clicks again. You’re not looking at him; he caught your side profile, this time not out of mock or tease.

He means it. And you seem to know.

Because when you look at him this time, you’re not mad or irritated.

Only look at him softly, a smile that truly matches the heights you took him on.

READ BELOW!!

the fic isn't over yet – as always, tumblr has a 1k block limit that makes our lives harder than necessary lmao. read the last scene and the remaining 3k words of meraki here 🥰

Paradise | JJK - Masterlist

LAST UPDATE: 8/9/24 - Epilogue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers, slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Word Count: 127k (COMPLETED)

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

Teaser

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Epilogue

Extras:

Paradise Moodboards

Welcome to Paradise playlist

Paradise Drabbles - a series of drabbles featuring various characters

Take the Paradise Poll & let me know what you think!

Ask My Muse - questions answered by Paradise characters

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2021-22-23-24 sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakookies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

-

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

-

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

-

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

-

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

-

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

-

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

-

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Roommates Pt. 1

written for this request 

So I heard that it was a certain maknae’s birthday today…

Warnings: Slightly mature themes, and definitely mature themes in pt 2

Part 2 Part 3 (final)

Word Count: 9,685

“Why are you cleaning on a Friday night?” Minhyuk asks in amusement as he watches you jump out of his embrace on the couch to make a run for the broom, “Come back and finish the movie with me, babe.”

“Sorry to cut our date short,” you apologize, even as you frantically sweep the kitchen, “I forgot that Jungkook is supposed to come over tonight!”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you cleaning for months,” your boyfriend chuckles, “I don’t get it. Why would a little high school boy care about a bit of dirt?”

You pause to shoot him a glare, “He’s in college now,” you correct.

“Wait—you didn’t say he was a college student. ___, you’re having a full grown adult man live with you?”

“It’s not like that!” You protest, “He’s just my little dongsaeng neighbor. You’ve met Junghyun, remember? This is his baby brother.”

Minhyuk crosses his arms tightly across his chest, still not entirely convinced, “I don’t understand why he has to live with you though.”

Keep reading

Idk how to describe it accurately but watching Are You Sure makes me feel at peace. It’s like my comfort show.

VON DUTCH — PT. 2 of MEGAVERSE — [18+!]

AN INTERACTIVE SERIES

“Don’t say stuff like that, honey. You’re gonna mess with my head, hm?”

❇️ The city that allows you to follow your dreams is definitely the best option for the situation you’re in—for inexplicable reasons, you find yourself in a parallel universe. Luckily, your new neighbour Felix—a handsome actor—is more than willing to show you around the area. But for some reason, he reminds you a little too much of your childhood best friend. This can’t be a coincidence, right?

❕ [READ CAREFULLY] Select an option for the poll after reading this chapter! [poll will be up for 7 days and then the next part drops]

🧩 CONTENT INFO: skz ot8 x afab reader [not at the same time], smut/fluff/angst, parallel universe/video game au, sci-fi au, mc keeps believing she’s dreaming

📗 WORD COUNT: 4.9K

⛳️ CONTENT WARNING: explicit sexual content [includes fingering and oral (f receiving), slightest marking, name calling such as honey, baby], consumption of alcohol, so many pent up feelings

💚 AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you guys so much for the incredible feedback and participation on the first part 😭 you’re literally amazing!! the majority (~30%) chose the city that allows you to follow your dreams and to meet our sunshine boy 🤭 I hope you’ll enjoy—if that’s the case, make sure to comment/reblog/send an ask or DM and tell me 1) what you chose this time and why and 2) how you like the story so far. lots of love to all of you 💚 thanks for reading and enjoy!! 🫶🏻

Welcome to the Real Life Simulations. Please choose a world to play in.

There’s a countdown in front of your eyes. You’ve never been good at making decisions—especially when you don’t have much time. You reread the options, as the letters become a blur in front of your eyes.

God. What are you supposed to pick? This feels like a dream. A very confusing dream. You’ve been through this before. Sometimes, you’re aware that you’re dreaming but you’re not that sure right now.

Dream.

Maybe that’s the code word.

‘A city that allows me to be myself and chase my dreams!’

You reach for the banner, not quite sure how you’re physically supposed to show the universe what your pick is but it understands you.

And you read the next text blinking in bold letters.

Welcome to Starlost Boulevard where everyone can be who they want to be. Are you ready?

You suppose it’s a rhetorical question since you don’t get any time to make up your mind before your vision turns dark again.

You’ll wake up now. What a weird dream, right?

However, when you open your eyes, you don’t find yourself in the apartment you share with your crush Jisung but in a completely new home instead.

It’s rather empty compared to your bedroom outside of this weird dream—the mattress you’re lying on isn’t that comfortable and everything seems rather narrow. You decide to stand up, placing your feet on the ground as you realise you’re wearing different clothes from before falling asleep in your bedroom at home.

Where the hell are you? What is this? And why can’t you wake up?

You pinch yourself in your upper arm—a pro tip to figure out whether you’re inside a dream or not—but you can feel it. The skin that’s pressed between your fingers starts hurting a bit when you apply more strength.

Fucking hell.

What happened?

You can feel panic rush over you but it’s soon drowned out by more confusion. Catching a glimpse of your surroundings, you find a dresser and a desk inside this bedroom that looks nothing like your real one.

Breathe, Y/N. This isn’t real.

Taking a few steps, you walk towards the door and open it. A second later, you’re standing inside the entrance area of your tiny house that you seem to live in alone. Weird. Where’s Jisung? Why is he not with you?

But once you’re done checking out the building, you realise there’s only one bedroom. Perhaps, whoever actually owns this place lives here alone.

Deciding to freshen up, you walk inside the simply decorated bathroom, taking a quick shower. A very cold shower. God, you hate this.

A message pops up on the phone that’s lying on the bathroom counter—who placed it there?

“If you don’t pay your bills within 48 hours, we’ll cut off your electricity. — Sent 2 days and 5 hours ago.”

Wow. Great. So, you’re stuck inside a stranger’s tiny home that doesn’t even function properly? How do you deserve this?

Once you’re dressed—your wardrobe is filled with the same outfits for eight different occasions several times—you dare to step outside the little house, checking your mailbox.

“For home owner, Y/L/N Y/N. Starlost Boulevard News: Diamond Diaries museum organises vernissage for upcoming collection of artist Hyunjin Hwang.”

What?

Perhaps it’s a common name, right? They can’t mean your Hyunjin—your best friend’s crush, can they?

You stuff the piece of paper back into your mailbox, deciding to head inside again. When you read the time on your phone, you realise it’s just a bit after noon.

The letter was addressed to you. As a homeowner. This shitty trailer belongs to you?

Wow, real life Y/N wasn’t the richest girlie in Seoul by any means, but why does your dream version have to suffer even more?

However, who in today’s age can even afford a house and be a homeowner, so that’s at least something. Even if the building—if you can even call it that—reminds you more of a shoe box.

Knock knock.

You’re someone who never opens the front door unless one of your friends announced themselves or Jisung forgot his keys again.

Jisung. Right.

You wonder if Hyunjin is here, if there might also be a chance for you to meet your crush here too.

This is ridiculous. The vernissage they announced in that newspaper letter wasn’t even about Hyunjin who’s part of your friend group. That you are sure of.

Knock knock.

Maybe it was just the wind and no one actually knocked at your front door. If you ignore the sound long enough, it’ll go away.

You walk towards the fridge in the pantry kitchen, when you hear your stomach growl a little. When you open it, you’re greeted by a cutting board that has ingredients placed on it.

What the fuck.

This looks just like the game you were playing right before you fell asleep. You should lower your screen time by hours. You’re already dreaming about the game in which you created a version of yourself and your crush in order to get them married.

Knock knock.

“Hi, sorry to disturb you but I’m your neighbour. I just wanted to introduce myself. I live in the trailer across your own,” a low male voice says.

A tone that’s ridiculously familiar. And you haven’t listened to it for years after he moved away after highschool and ghosted his whole friend group—including you—to start over after what happened between you both.

It can’t be, right? You’re not meeting your childhood friend again in a dream. You’ve been having those from time to time—one in which you both got stuck on a road trip in New Zealand, sharing the same van—and they’ve been piling up these past couple of weeks. But it still can’t be.

Right?

You dare to open the front door and when you’re met with his beautiful brown eyes and the freckles decorating his pretty face, you accidentally let the loaf of bread inside your hand fall down.

“Hi—Y/N?” he asks, his eyes widening. “You moved here? I haven’t seen you in ages.”

No. This can’t be. This can’t be true. Well, it’s a dream after all, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

Something tells you that you might not believe that anymore. Something about this situation feels oddly… real.

“Felix?” you let out.

God, how many years you haven’t said his name out loud. No one in your friend group, actually. Not after what he did.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’ve got brownies for you. A welcome gift,“ he explains, showing you the baked goods. “I wasn’t aware that it is you who moved here. Our neighbour that lives in the third trailer—her name is Venessa—announced that we had someone new here.”

Venessa?

“Venessa Jeong?” you intuitively ask him. Because you actually don’t know anyone else with that first name.

“Oh, you know her?” your new neighbour questions.

“Not personally. A friend of a friend,” you add. Well, it’s the best way to explain it. Definitely better than calling her your crush’s fling. However, Jisung—in real life—told you that these two didn’t work out anyway.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Felix says.

“Why don’t you come inside?” you blurt out, not wanting him to stand there awkwardly on your doorstep with a huge box of brownies in his hand.

“Of course,” he says, taking off his shoes and placing the cake on your kitchen counter.

“How long have you been living in this neighbourhood?” you ask him. This doesn’t make sense. The Felix in the real world left Seoul six years ago, right after finishing high school when he cut off contact with your whole friend group.

“For almost six years now. When I left our hometown, I ended up here. You know, to pursue my acting career,” he explains.

Fucking hell. This feels like some weird, alternative universe.

“Actor? You’re an actor?” you ask. This is super impressive. Your childhood friend always wanted to be an actor and knowing that he actually managed to become successful in this dream world is crazy.

More or less successful.

“Yeah. You might have seen me in a couple of lesser known movies. I’m still… trying to… you know, establish a fanbase and a solid income,” he says with a quieter voice now, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s always been your dream,” you remind him. He wrote it in your friendship book—the one you lend your loved ones so they can fill out a little profile and description—that his dream career is to be an actor one day.

“What brings you here?” he suddenly asks you.

Fuck. You’re drawn out of your thoughts.

Yeah. What the hell brings you here?

Well, let’s have a look at it. You played The Sims on your computer and the next thing you know is falling asleep and having a weird ass dream about being caught in the game–

Wait. It does feel like you’re caught in the game, right? Starting with a cheap building, no job, no friends. That’s basically The Sims. Or generally young adult life in the 21st century.

“W-What?”

“How did you end up in Starlost Boulevard? Were you getting sick of Seoul?” Felix wants to know.

So, Seoul exists in this dream too?

“Yeah, basically,” you say, deciding to just go with this option.

“I get that. It’s a lot more chill here and the weather is so much better. No one cares what you do or what you wear. I can show you around, if you like,” he suddenly offers.

“Sure,” you accept, knowing it’s a good idea. Although your heart is getting more and more confused about being with Felix again.

“Oh, you dropped this,” he tells you, handing you the loaf of bread. “Grilled cheese is always a good choice. Are you hungry? We can get something on the way.”

Perhaps it’s more like a parallel universe if Felix recognises you. A dream about a parallel universe inspired by your game.

It is a dream, right?

When you reach for your smartphone to check the time a pop-up appears.

“Felix Lee. Actor [Level 2]. 24 years old. Starlost Boulevard. Traits: ambitious, lovebug, geek, [2 more hidden traits]. Friends: Venessa Jeong, Penny Pizzazz, Hyunjin Hwang. Acquaintances: Miko Ojo, Seungmin Kim. Enemies: Akira Kibo.”

Hyunjin Hwang? Fuck. You have to subtly ask him about that guy later. And it isn’t even the only name that you’ve heard of before.

But for now, Felix is offering his hand, which you take, as he guides you outside your tiny house.

Your eyes are met with the tallest palm trees you’ve ever witnessed, when Felix and you have walked a bit down the street where your small houses are located. 

The nature is stunning and you’re grateful for the warm weather. It’s a climate you aren’t familiar with, so much different to Seoul. 

“How do you like Starlost Boulevard so far? You’ve never been here before, right?”

Okay you’re sure now that this Felix isn’t aware of the fact that you’re caught inside your dream together. How are you supposed to have visited this city when it’s not real?

“No, never,” you admit. “But I like it. It’s so different to our hometown.”

Felix nods, “Oh, absolutely. It’s awesome to just be who you want to be. No one ever judges you for your choice in job, style or relationships.”

Relationships. Fuck. It does something to your head listening to dream-Felix speak that word. After all, the two of you have a tiny bit of a history in real life.

“That’s nice,” you say, keeping your gaze fixated on the houses, palm trees and neon signs in front of you.

“Hm, it can be shallow at times too. So, I’m happy I actually have a few real friends here. Including you now.”

When you turn around to look at him, your childhood friend sends a wink your way, managing to let your heart skip a beat. Or a few.

“Y-Yeah. I’m happy to be here.”

Although, you’re fucking overwhelmed. You ended up inside a random trailer as if you were catapulted into a parallel universe without a plan, job or a single coin of money. 

“Can I tell you something?” you ask. There’s been something on your mind. Well a lot. You’re overwhelmed. And you don’t know how things work in this dream world so you definitely will need some advice. You basically spawned in Starlost Boulevard and now you’re expected to know how things work.

“I arrived here only today and don’t have electricity yet. It’s a bit embarrassing…” you start.

“Oh, no it’s not, honey,” Felix immediately reassures you.

Why the sudden use of the nickname he called you six ago?

“You can come to my place for showering and food, if you like,” he offers. Thank God. Or Felix.

“That would be great,” you say, giving him a bright smile.

“I mean, it’s convenient you live so close to an old friend, right?” he asks with a wink.

Fucking hell. Living so close to him will play with your stupid little heart.

A bit later, you arrive in what seems to be the town's centre. There’s not much going on except for even more palm trees and a lot of busy people, until you notice a modern building that looks like random shapes stacked up on another.

“That’s the Diamond Dream museum," Felix begins.

“Wow, it’s…”

He chuckles, “It’s fucking ugly, yes, I know. I don’t know who the hell they hired as an architect. But my friend Hyunjin will have his vernissage for his upcoming project soon. You should go there with me.”

Felix is so much more straightforward than back then. You like it.

And there’s something else you notice.

His friend Hyunjin.

Sure, you’ve noticed it an hour ago, when your phone showed you this weird profile page about your former childhood friend. But how high are the chances that it’s the Hyunjin Hwang? After all, they used to be friends too.

“Oh, I’d love that. Thank you,” you tell him.

“Anything for you, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here and I’m more than happy to show you around, hm?” he says with an expression on his face that you can’t quite interpret.

The two of you keep walking around, finding a little house that sells street food. You both opt for burritos and lemonade, searching for a place to sit down for eating.

The food is great—you’ve been so hungry—and having Felix as your company is always perfect. 

And while you’re busy munching your meal, a woman approaches the two of you. She has medium length turquoise hair with a few yellow strands—it looks pretty cool if you’re honest—and wears a casual outfit.

“Look, there’s Venessa. Our neighbour,” Felix informs you.

That’s Venessa Jeong? Fuck, you kind of get why Jisung wanted to meet her. Perhaps, you wouldn’t have declined that offer either.

“Hey, Lixie. How’re you?” She suddenly shifts closer to him, lowering her voice. “Sorry, are you on a date?”

“This is our new neighbour, Y/N. I’m just showing her around,” he explains with a bright smile.

“Y/N… I’ve heard that name somewhere before,” Venessa starts. Right. She invited that guy over some nights ago who moaned that exact name while they were at it. What a weird coincidence. “I’m Venessa, so nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” you say. “Are you an actor as well?”

Your smartphone that’s placed on the wooden table suddenly starts lighting up.

New info unlocked: Venessa Jeong. Actor [Level 3]. 26 years old. Starlost Boulevard. Traits: ambitious, cheerful, [3 more hidden traits]. Friends: Felix Lee, Hyunjin Hwang, Johnny Zest, Thi Linh. Acquaintances: Seungmin Kim, Candy Behr. Enemies: Catarina Lynx (ex girlfriend).

“Yes, I am! I’m playing a bunch of roles together with Felix. How about you? What do you do for a living?” she asks you back.

“Uhm… I just moved here. I… don’t have a job yet,” you explain, feeling a little embarrassed. Who the hell would move to a random city without any job?

“If you ever need help finding anything, let us know! Lix and I can definitely help you.” She takes a sip from her green smoothie. “I’m happy to have another female friend here. You seem really nice, Y/N.”

“T-Thank you, you too,” you tell her.

“Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I have some filming hours later and have to get ready. Have fun, you two,” she says with a friendly tone, meaning it.

“Bye, see you later, Venessa.” Felix takes a look at you. “Shall we continue?”

Since the two of you both fancied a drink somewhere, Felix showed you his favourite pub with a questionable name—Orchid A Go Go—the person that came up with it was definitely drunk.

“What would you like?” your childhood friend asks and you tell him your choice. A little while later, Felix joins you in the booth you’re sitting in.

“Here’s your margarita, darling,” he says, casually throwing in some flirty name again.

It reminds you a little of Jisung. Maybe, you’ve gotten so attached to your roommate because you’ve never gotten over Felix. Sure, that’s just an assumption but to some extent it makes perfect sense. After all, your childhood friend used to play this hot and cold game for a long time as well.

“I missed you, honey,” he confesses.

Okay, maybe this new, dream version Felix is a lot more straightforward, honest and confident than both his former self and your crush from the real world.

“I missed you too, Lix.” You have no issue in admitting this too. Denying wouldn’t make any sense anyway, it’s just the truth. “Can I ask you something?”

You’re already here with him anyway. Might just well take your chance.

“Always. I think I already know what you’re thinking about with that distracted little head of yours.”

Fuck. He’s gonna mess with your head.

However, this will give you some answers for a long lost cause and you’ll perhaps also figure out if Felix was talking about your shared friend Hyunjin or someone else today when the name was mentioned.

“Why did you cut off contact? Like—with the whole friend group.”

It’s out. The question you’ve wanted to ask for six years now.

“Hm, I’m sure Changbin and Cecilia miss me too,” he chuckles. “Hyunjin and I found each other again when he had a job offer in Starlost Boulevard some years ago. I thought he would have told you guys.”

This is what differs from the real world. Hyunjin isn’t friends with Felix anymore either. You don’t even know where the hell your former friend lives or what he does for a living.

“He didn’t,” you confess.

Felix doesn’t question it. But he wants to tell you the truth. “You really wanna know why I ghosted all of you?”

“Yeah… please, I’ve always wondered if it was something I said or did that… pissed you off,” you say, your voice becoming a bit quieter.

“And what if it was?”

Fucking hell. Your heart shatters. You being responsible for him ghosting the whole friend group lets an uncomfortable feeling bubble up inside your stomach.

“W-What?”

“Do you remember our kiss? At our highschool graduation party?”

Of course you do. You could never forget. The two of you were a bit tipsy. And knowing that a new chapter was about to start in your lives, you became a little reckless. Your stupid crush on Felix back then didn’t help the situation.

“I do, yeah…” you admit, catching your lower lip between your teeth.

“I had a big crush on you back then, Y/N. But you were head over heels for that asshole—what was his name again—right, Akira instead,” he explains with a chuckle.

Right. Akira and you went on a few dates. He was the first man you’ve ever gone out with but it didn’t click much. Perhaps, you fell in love with the idea of him instead. It did bring you something good though—through him, you met Jisung.

“That pretty boy with the tattoos who’s a bit older and who switches his girlfriends every week and you fell for him too… when you had me, your best friend, in front of you all the time,” Felix adds. Suddenly, he scoots a bit closer, reaching for your hand.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Lix,” you tell him.

“It’s okay. It’s been what—six years? That’s why I moved here. I needed to start from zero and finally follow my dreams.”

“I’m proud of you, you know? I wish I would have had a chance to be a part of it, but I understand you,” you tell him, meaning it.

“Y-You do?”

“Hm, it’s just a shame that I actually had a crush on you back then. Akira was just some guy to make you jealous when that girl—Miko—asked you out.”

Miko and you became friends a couple of years later in college and you got over the initial rivalry. And thanks to her, you met Seungmin since the two of them used to study political science together. Well, at least in the real world. You don’t know if this applies to this weird dream you’re caught in.

“I’ve never liked Miko more than a friend. Fuck. We’re such idiots, aren’t we?”

The both of you burst out in laughter, before your glasses clash together and a ‘cheers’ echoes through the mostly empty pub.

“We were young, Lix. That’s normal,” you tell him, brushing over his arm with your fingers.

He giggles, flustered, and you enjoy the view and sound of it. “I know… but we wasted so many years.”

Dream-Felix is gonna make you lose your mind. How deeply you wished this was the real world.

“We can start from here again. All fresh,” you offer.

“I’d like that. Cheers to us, Y/N. I’m glad destiny brought us together.”

Your heart halts for a second. Fuck, you wish it was true and you weren’t caught in a dream. You’re gonna wake up tomorrow and miss Felix again.

Might as well take all the chances you get, right?

“Can I tell you another secret, Lix?”

“Sure, honey,” he encourages you, scooting even closer. To any nosy people this might sound suspicious, but you’ve known each other your whole life, right?

However, with the following words that you’re speaking, things don’t seem so platonic anymore. “The kiss we shared… even after all these years, it’s still my favourite of all time.”

Felix throws his head back, trying to withstand the temptation between the both of you. Fuck. The fact you’re just casually dropping that information gets under his skin like nothing else.

He brings his gaze back to you, reaching for his glass and downing the rest of his drink.

“Fuck, don’t say stuff like that, honey. You’re gonna mess with my head, hm?”

His fingers wander under your chin, making you look up at him.

“What if that’s my plan?” you say, clicking your tongue and tilting your head a bit.

“You won’t be getting out of this too easily, okay?”

“Great. Because I’m not planning to have you run away again,” you admit. And he should know this.

Something inside Felix’s eyes darkens, when he leans closer and whispers into your ear. “How about we go back to my house, hm? I haven’t shown you my place yet.”

Felix’s trailer doesn’t differ a lot from your own on the outside, but it’s something completely else inside. It’s cosy and beautifully decorated, making it feel very lived in.

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch, honey,” he tells you, while getting two glasses of water for the both of you. He places them down on the table in front of the sofa, before he joins you.

“I’m happy you’re in my life again, Y/N,” he confesses.

You smile, “Me too, Lix.”

Oh, how much you wished this wasn’t a dream but the real world.

“Come here, hm?” Felix casually reaches for your hands, painfully slowly hovering you on top of him. “Sit down, pretty. I told you to make yourself comfortable.”

Fucking hell. This is the best dream you’ve ever had.

“Kiss me, please,” you whisper against his lips that are now only separated from your own by a thin layer of air.

“So polite, hm?” he chuckles, before he crashes his lips into your own, sealing them with a heated kiss. And you were correct. Felix has always been the best kisser on this planet.

You can’t compare this to any feelings you’ve ever experienced in your entire life—Felix tastes like the first sunbeams welcoming spring and the first snowfall welcoming winter, like a cup of hot tea after a cold autumn day or gelato on a hot summer day.

He tastes like pure comfort. As if you’ve always belonged together.

You invite his tongue inside your mouth, sensing it dancing around with your own, as he pulls you closer by the waist. A few little grunts spill from his lips and they grow rougher, whenever you instinctively grind over his slowly hardening crotch.

He helps you with your rhythm, enjoying the small sounds you make whenever the friction makes you feel just right. Sooner than later, he feels you humping his clothed cock, becoming more comfortable. Fuck. He’s wanted to do this ever since that first kiss the two of you shared. He’s always regretted letting you go for such immature reasons.

“I adore kissing you, baby,” Felix says, letting go of you for a moment, “but I need my lips on your pretty pussy, yeah?”

Oh, God. No man has ever talked to you like this. Of course, the night you shared with Chan not that long ago was amazing without a doubt. But Felix’s low voice and the way he casually throws in those words, makes your head spin.

When you give him a nod—and a wide grin—Felix picks you up and places you on your back, as you’re lying on his couch now, while he’s towering over you—ready to devour you like a five star meal.

As if you’re on autopilot, you spread your legs, when Felix’s kisses make their way down your jaw, your neck and your cleavage. This feels so good. And so real. He wanders further south, creating a pretty pathway of rough bites and love marks—the beauty of this artwork is out of this world.

You allow him to hover your dress over your head, leaving you in your lingerie. Weird. You’ve never seen this one before. But it fits you perfectly. The black laces are hugging your curves just right and the green little diamond jewellery attached to them makes the look perfect. Almost too pretty to take off. Almost.

Felix is already between your thighs, placing them on his shoulders, as you watch him carry the most mischievous smirk on his face, when he looks up at you.

“Ready, honey?”

“Don’t make me wait, Lixie,” you whine.

“You’re impatient, baby,” he whispers, the hotness of his breath lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. Felix adds a little kiss to your ruined panties, watching your mouth part, before he decides to get rid off the fabric entirely. Your bra and underwear land on the pile of clothing—along with your dress and his shirt—somewhere on the floor, before he gets back to you.

And you’re sure you’re gonna see stars in an instant, when he starts placing kitten licks on your aching pussy, the top of his tongue grazing over your clit ever so lightly. 

Instinctively, you reach for his long, blond hair—it looks so different compared to back then—guiding his moves the way you prefer it. Felix lets out a grunt, feeling himself growing tighter in his pants. But he stays focused on you. Tonight is about you. He will make sure that your paths never cross again. Your former friend has waited and wasted too many years for that.

“Lixie– right there, please,” you struggle to let out.

And all he does is decide to bring two fingers to your entrance, letting them circle around your wet hole, before he pushes them inside. His tongue is lying flat against your tongue, while he stares up at your through his long strands. 

Felix starts moving his fingers, pounding them into your cunt, as his tongue starts moving again.

Oh, you’re not gonna last long.

“Felix– please.”

“Honey, come on… you know what I’m waiting for, don’t you?” he asks you, chucking.

You hastily nod, letting your head fall back, “Hm– fuck, I’m gonna–“

And you do. All over his tongue and fingers, making a huge mess. Felix helps you through your high, listening to your moans and whimpers. He wishes he could tattoo the sounds to his brain, so he would be able to replay them whenever he feels like it.

Your childhood friend pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, placing a few small kisses on your inner thighs. He gets up and walks to his bathroom, before he takes care of you and your body.

“Lixie?”

“Yeah?”

“This was nice,” you admit with a giggle.

“I agree, honey,” he says with a wink.

“Can I ask you something else?” you start again, once you’re dressed in some of his clothes.

“Of course—what is it?”

“Can you help me… find a job here?”

He reaches for his smartphone, giving the device to you. “Sure. Just pick one. These are the current ones.”

“That’s all I have to do?” you question.

“Yeah. Make a smart decision, Y/N.”

© j-One25 2024 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

skz links♡

juicy prn links from X. MDNI!!!

Hyung line

: ̗̀➛chan deepens his twitching cock inside of you★

: ̗̀➛ chan comes all over your tits★

: ̗̀➛ minho loves the taste of you★

: ̗̀➛ minho likes the creampie ★

: ̗̀➛ changbin is a bit big..★

: ̗̀➛ changbin fingers you like there's no tomorrow★

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin fucks you in the dorm, til the guys are sleeping★

: ̗̀➛ hyunjin lets you ride him★

Maknae line

: ̗̀➛ jisung fingers you so good, while your hand are tied together ★

: ̗̀➛ you made jisungie cum ★

: ̗̀➛ felix and you decided to make a quick sex tape★

: ̗̀➛ you're clingy and needy for felix ★

: ̗̀➛ seungmin loves suck on your breast★

: ̗̀➛ oral sex with seungmin ★

: ̗̀➛ passionate sex with jeongin★

: ̗̀➛ jeongin takes care of you★

CLUB CLASSICS — PT. 1 of MEGAVERSE — [18+!]

AN INTERACTIVE SERIES

“Come on, be a good girl for me, Y/N,” he softly whispers.

❇️ All you wanted was to be a little delusional. Nothing out of the ordinary, simply creating your crush as a character in a video game to make him fall in love with the version of yourself. Everyone does that, right? Little did you know that cheating your way through the storyline would make you end up in a parallel universe that seems a little too similar to the game you were playing.

❕ [READ CAREFULLY] Select an option for the poll after reading a chapter! [polls will be up for 7 days and then the next part drops]

🧩 CONTENT INFO: skz ot8 x afab reader [not at the same time], smut/fluff/angst, parallel universe/video game au, sci-fi au, refer to series m.list for more infos

📗 WORD COUNT: 5.7K

⛳️ CONTENT WARNING: explicit sexual content [includes oral (f receiving), protected sex, choking, praise, name calling such as babygirl and good girl], alcohol consumption, mention of smoking weed and dealing, subtle hint of toxic relationship and stalking (not reader)

💚 AUTHOR’S NOTE: the first part is here! choose your option wisely. i hope you will like this little intro and if you do so, I’d be very grateful for any kind support (reblogs, comments, asks, DMs etc.). I’m sending lots of love to you and thank you for reading 🫶🏻

Some people would say that it's weird texting your friend that lives with you while he’s at home as well, but perhaps that’s just the age we live in. Or in your specific case, it’s easier to communicate with written words, regarding the fact you have a crush on him.

Opening the Discord app, you search for Jisung’s chat with you and send a message as well as a little meme to hype him up.

[y/n]: hop on discord dude

[y/n]: tenor.gif

You know that he’s always on his phone—especially nowadays which worries you a little—so he might see the messages soon and he does.

[jisung]: sorry mate i’m busy gettin readyyy

[jisung]: venessa invited me over ;)

Your heart bursts into a thousand pieces. Right. The girl he’s been texting with. 

It’s ridiculous, yes, that you have a crush on your longtime friend and roommate Han Jisung—and also a little pathetic but who can resist a gamer boy—so it was inevitable for jealousy to bubble up in your stomach and take over you.

Deep breaths, Y/N. Everything’s alright.

[y/n]: jeong venessa? that tiktok girlie?

You know who he means. You don’t even know why you ask again. Tapping your nails against the surface of your table, you await an answer.

[jisung]: you heard it correctly

[jisung]: tonight’s the night if you know what i mean

You do indeed know but you wished you could erase it from your brain forever.

[y/n]: oh congrats 

[y/n]: then i’m gonna go partying alone with cecilia. your loss. they’re playing 2010s music tonight in hongdae 

It’s not even a lie. That was your plan for later anyway. However, after a round of possibly playing your current favourite game with him you were hopeful to get Jisung to drag along with you. It would have been a perfect idea to spend more time with him—while your best friend is busy talking to her own crush anyway. Cool, now you’re gonna be third wheeling.

[jisung]: you guys are going clubbing in hongdae??? then you probably won’t need me anyway. there will be enough other men trying to get your attention ;)

Other men that give you attention?

Does he mean that otherwise he would be the one to do that?

Han Jisung confuses to no end these days. This constant hot and cold, push and pull messes with your head. One second he’s flirting with you, the next one he’s talking about that Venessa girl again.

[y/n]: like… you?

[y/n]: what’s that supposed to mean, ji?

You look at the little symbol that shows that he’s typing, before you receive two messages.

[jisung]: nothing 😝 have fun baby

[jisung]: call me if you need anything 

Baby.

That’s the thing.

Why does he call you baby a few hours before probably having his dick inside another woman?

[y/n]: i thought you were busy with venessa 🤨

You don’t get him.

[jisung]: probably will be 😏

[jisung]: but i’m always here for my favourite girl so don’t worry 😘

You decide to just drop it. Jisung isn’t aware of your actual feelings for him and you guys have always been this playful and flirty with one another. So, you can’t just start being mad at him out of nowhere. That wouldn’t be fair.

Sure, what you guys need is an actual conversation. Communicate whatever the fuck that is between you two. But then again, he’s been so busy these days with his work as a new IT consultant after graduating college—you seriously have no idea what his job involves and what he does there—so this hasn’t been an option so far.

You brush all those thoughts off and type another message.

[y/n]: have fun too ji!! 🥰

He instantly replies.

[jisung]: thanks baby ❤️

“Y/N, he will be here tonight!” Cecilia squeals.

Yes. This is the first thing your best friend says when she enters your apartment two hours after your little chat with Jisung who still isn’t at home.

Cecilia doesn’t even greet you, but walks inside, severely hyped for the night. You absolutely adore and admire how much energy she brings into a room but for an introvert like you it can get annoying quickly as well.

“Who?”

She takes her shoes off, grabs you by your wrist and drags you into your bedroom.

“Hyunjin, you dumbass. I told you, he’s gonna go to the same club with his friends,” Cecilia explains, dropping down to the floor to start doing her makeup. “Which also means Changbin will be there too though…”

“Of course he had to be here too,” you chuckle. “I mean, your brother and Hyunjin are best friends. Changbin goes whenever he goes.”

“I know, but it’s sooo annoying,” she says, throwing her head back.

“I get that, darling. We’re gonna make the best out of this night,” you reassure her, while finishing up your makeup. You’re already looking for the dress that you want to wear, running around in your small bedroom.

“Sure! Tonight’s the night for Hyunjin finally taking me home with him,” she giggles.

God, it’s annoying. You seriously thought this was gonna be a girls’ night—at least as much as possible—but Cecilia is unfortunately that type of woman that talks about men all day long.

“D’you think he fucks in missionary or prefers doggy?” she questions, tilting her head.

“Cee! Are you insane? Why would you ask that?”

“Ugh, never mind. You’re such a prude, for real,” she scoffs. “When was the last time you got any?”

You hate it. You absolutely hate it when she starts talking about sex. It’s not like you’re actually a prude—it drives you mad that she talks to you like this but you’re too much of a coward to defend yourself—but you might be inexperienced, yes. Most men you met in your life just didn’t excite you in a way that’s enough to be intimate with them.

You don’t have to love someone to cross that border, but there has to be some type of connection and a little spark between you for it to work.

“Does it matter?” you ask, slipping into the black dress you chose for tonight.

“Yeah, you need to get outta there. Make some experience. I can’t believe your body count is still only two,” Cecilia shakes her head.

“Why is it a bad thing? I mean, it doesn’t really matter if my body count is two or twenty, does it?” you ask, turning around towards her.

“You’re such a pretty girl when you take in some effort and dress up, why not get some free attention from men, hm?”

You decide to not reply anymore and it works—the conversation dies down and Cecilia forgets about the topic. However, this just brings her back to her previous focus.

“Do you think Hyunjin prefers dark red lipstick or a brighter shade?” she asks, looking at two different products in her hand.

It’s been like this for weeks now. Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. That’s all she ever talks about. Sure, you can admit that the guy is handsome—but you’d love to talk to your best friend about other topics as well.

“I don’t know… I’d just wear what fits best with the outfit,” you suggest.

“Thanks, babe!” Cecilia applies her dark red lipstick before she looks at you, her mouth falling agape. “Gosh, you look pretty like this. You should totally wear dresses like these more often and stop hiding.”

“Thank you.” At least you guess so. Sometimes Cecilia’s compliments feel a little backhanded.

So, for whatever reason—it might be the wine you had—you decide to ask her questions instead, “What’s your thoughts on having a first date with Hyunjin, by the way?”

“First date? I’d love to date him, no question. But you know how I feel about serious relationships these days. After everything with Michael,” she explains

Right. The guy that told her that he loved her after the first date and then called her with several different numbers after she kept blocking him.

“Yeah, that’s super valid. I just thought… you seem to like Hyunjin a lot, so…” you continue.

“I do,” she agrees, looking into your eyes now and she’s suddenly so serious. “But I also need to protect my heart so no man can ever stab it with a dagger again.”

“Fair point.” You get up from your seat and grab your purse, watching Cecilia finishing the last touches of her lipstick. “Are you ready?”

Your best friend stands up too, as she follows you to the front door of your apartment. Jisung is already gone and for a second your thoughts start wandering again.

But only until Cecilia snaps you out of them. “Let’s go, babe.”

It’s loud. It’s sticky. It’s crowded in here.

Why the hell did you decide to go clubbing in Hongdae again?

Cecilia and you have been here for almost half an hour, currently sipping on your second drink and swinging your hips to the mediocre music, when a certain someone approaches you two.

“Hi, Cecilia, how’re you?” the tall man instantly asks, pulling your best friend into a hug. She has to hold back a squeal and presses him tightly against her body.

Hyunjin is the first one to pull away, before he brings his attention to you. “Y/N, hey, I’m glad you’re here. Everything alright?”

You instantly become confused—why shouldn’t everything be alright? Sure, you haven’t been in the best state of mind, regarding the fact your crush is at another girl’s place, probably getting his dick sucked right now, but you’ve tried your best to hide it.

“Yeah, of course. It’s nice to see you,” you say, meaning it. Whereas Hyunjin is off the table—and not really your type anyway—since he’s your best friend’s crush, you’ve never viewed him in a romantic light. But you feel super safe around him and that’s what counts.

He gets called by a friend from afar and follows them there, telling you two he will be back soon.

“Nice to see you?! What the hell was that?” your best friend shoves you aside from the dancefloor, her blood boiling up with anger.

What on earth?

“I’m just being friendly. He said something along these lines too,” you instantly defend yourself. You hate that you always get defensive around her even if you didn’t do anything.

“No, no, no. That’s gonna stop. You’re not going to flirt with my crush, Y/N,” Cecilia tells you.

“What? I wasn’t even flirting with him,” you reply.

“Good. Because I can’t risk him falling in love with you,” she says, shaking her head.

Is she for fucking real right now?

“Slow down with the drinks, Cee. You sound ridiculous. He doesn’t see me like that and much more importantly—I don’t like him like that either,” you explain.

“Sure. I mean, you could do something to prove that,” she suggests, clicking her tongue. And that smirk. She’s got the same smirk sometimes as her half-brother. This can’t mean anything good.

“What do you mean?” you questions 

“Flirt with a man that’s not Hyunjin,” she chuckles.

“Why would I do that?”

“Just for fun. To show me that our friendship means something to you. And to grow a pair and make some experiences with men, duh,” Cecilia continues.

“What would I be getting out of it?”

“Like I said—fun and experience.”

She can tell by the look on your face that this isn’t enough to convince you. Your definition of fun is staying at home, playing video games and ordering food.

“Fine, and I pay for our coffee dates for the next two weeks.” 

You’re still hesitant, so Cecilia’s gaze softens.

“Y/N, listen. You can always say no, yeah? I’m just trying to hype up your mood. You’ve been looking a bit… out of it today. And I think this could help. Just a little flirting, trust me, yeah?”

You sigh, “Fine. I’m in.”

There’s nothing to lose anyway, right? The party is boring as hell and you can’t get Jisung out of your mind. He’s probably busy with having Venessa under him, so you can have some fun too.

Great timing—you see your best friend’s crush approaching you, carrying a round of tequila.

“Shots, ladies?” Hyunjin says, bringing Changbin with him.

“Always, Jinnie,” Cecilia tells him with a wink.

Another hour passes by, as your best friend and her crush are basically sticking together like glue. He’s dancing with her, pulling her close, while you’re standing far away, having the worst time of your life.

The amount of alcohol you had doesn’t do you a favour, which is why you impulsively open your Discord app, looking if your roommate is there.

[y/n]: ji? are you online?

[y/n]: cecilia is spending all her time flirting with hyunjin and i can’t look at this anymore

Why would Jisung be online though? He’s on a date. Or something like that.

[y/n]: it’s so boring here i’m actually thinking about just choosing whatever dude crosses my view next and become as pathetic as i’ve never been…

It’s totally normal for you to overshare with him. Jisung is used to it. He does the same with you.

Although, in combination with your intoxication it might not be the smartest idea you’ve ever had.

[y/n]: i wish you were here rn ngl

Fucking hell. You should stop. You really should. But you carry that insane urge inside your soul to just tell him about your feelings.

[y/n]: I hope ditching us for venessa was worth it and she gives good head

[y/n]: i’d be better at it tho 

Shit. You should slow down the drinking.

When you receive a notification from your Duolingo app—the green owl threatening you to do your language lessons or else—you’re being pulled back into reality again.

Oh, God. What did you just text Jisung?

You’re glad about the fact that first, Discord allows you to delete messages and second, your roommate doesn’t have notifications for Discord turned on. So, you just get rid off the two unhinged texts again.

This party is going so… not well. And the same counts for the bet with Cecilia. Shit. You’re so bored and you really want that free coffee for two whole weeks. Maybe it’s worth putting in some effort. It’s just flirting, nothing else, right?

Your eyes start roaming around inside the club, looking for potential men but they don’t seem to be very successful. None of them ignites some type of spark inside you.

For a second you think about flirting with Changbin. Just to piss Cecilia off. But you can’t do this. He’s basically the polar opposite of his sister when it comes to romance—absolutely hopeless and the relationship type of guy.

But just when you’re about to turn around and head to the bar to get something non-alcoholic, someone decides to talk to you instead.

“Hi, I’m Chan. One of Hyunjin’s friends. I think we’ve met before, right?”

Fuck, he’s beautiful. The man is wearing a white button down shirt combined with black trousers. Not the most oddinary outfit choice but he looks amazing in this simple combination. He’s wearing his curls open, as his dark brown eyes stare right at you. And those plump lips—God, they look so kissable–

“Yes, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you again,” you manage to catch yourself.

“What’s your favourite drink?” he asks, carrying a smirk on his face.

“Right now I actually think of answering lemonade. Just because I’ve had one beverage too many,” you confess.

Chan chuckles, looking so pretty while doing it, “Great choice. You wanna come with me, so I can buy the prettiest girl in the club her favourite lemonade?”

Oh, he’s smooth. You didn’t expect that at all.

With Chan time just passes by. You instantly get along, talking about anything and everything, basically just jumping from one topic to the next one. It’s crazy.

“Yeah, that’s right. I moved to Jeju Island a year ago. Surfing there is so much fun. It reminds me of my childhood in Australia,” he tells you.

He’s such an interesting person. You could listen to him for the rest of the night.

“Woah, that’s incredible. You’re meant to be living by the ocean, huh?”

“I just love the calm it gives me,” he adds.

You’ve never done something like this before. With Chan, you don’t have to know each other on an extremly deep level—it’s as if you met ten years ago. You instantly clicked from the beginning and maybe that’s how you excuse bringing him home with you an hour later.

Usually, you’re not someone who has one night stands. The sheer thought of them is a huge turn-off for you. But perhaps since Chan is one of Hyunjin’s friends, it doesn’t feel like being with a stranger. Plus, you’ve been talking for what felt like eternity until he even made the slightest move on you. He seems shy, although you can’t read if that’s perhaps just pretence.

The two of you get in the backseat of the cab he called for you, giggling like teenagers. Once you made it home, you catch yourself checking if your roommate is at home. But he isn’t. Jisung is probably still at Venessa’s place. After all, he’s spending the night there, right?

“You okay, babygirl?” Chan asks, walking a bit closer to you after he’s taken off his shoes.

“Yeah. More than that,” you smile. When he’s with you, you suddenly forget about the rest of the world and you can’t put it into words why he’s got that effect on you.

“You’re in the right state of mind, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m sober. I want this,” you admit.

“Good. Because I won’t be able to stop, once I have you underneath me,” he warns you.

And Chan manages to keep his words. A little while later, he’s got you spread out on your soft mattress. Your thighs are thrown over his shoulders, as he places rough kisses on your inner thighs. He’s gonna devour you like a starving man, that you are sure of. You might be inexperienced but this is a scene that’s played in your head a thousand times before.

“Come on, be a good girl for me, Y/N,” he softly whispers and you follow suit, parting your legs further.

His fingertips are grazing over the wet patch on your ruined panties, softly colliding with your clit. Chan pushes the fabric aside, exposing your wet cunt to him and all that menace does is smirk.

“Fucking hell,” he curses to himself, right before his tongue starts collecting your juices. He smears them all over your pussy, making you squirm underneath him. A minute later, two of his fingers are inside your hole, stretching you out so deliciously.

He prepares you well for what he’s got planned with you—making you forget about everything but his name and how good he’s making you feel.

“Chan–“

He looks up at you between the curls that are covering his forehead, “Yeah, baby?”

“Can you please… please just fuck me?”

You don’t even know what has gotten into you. Maybe you’ve got a bit inspired by certain scenes you’ve read in all those romance books.

But judging the way Chan’s gaze is darkening, he enjoys it.

“Of course, baby. Because you’re such a good girl for me, hm?”

He reaches inside his jeans pockets to grab a condom, as he gets up. Chan wastes no time and takes off his remaining clothes, before he crawls back on the bed. You’ve still got your legs spread, impatiently awaiting him.

He scoots back right between them, opening the wrapper and sliding down the condom on his hardened cock.

“Are you sure you want this, Y/N?” he asks, oh so softly.

“Absolutely. I can’t wait,” you tell him.

Maybe there was something good about the bet your best friend made with you.

Chan is careful, when he brushes the tip of his cock over your folds, teasing you a little and you let him. He's circling around your entrance, before he pushes the first few centimetres inside, watching you get adjusted to the sensation.

You tell him to start moving a little while later and that’s what he does. Well—not just that. He also casually manages to make your brain finally shut up with the way he’s pounding his hard dick into your aching cunt.

“Fuck, you’re driving me mad, babygirl,” he whispers into your ears. Chan has one hand wrapped around your throat, slightly applying pressure to the sides.

“Channie–“ you let out.

“Yeah, call me by that name again,” he grunts through his teeth.

“Channie– please– ‘s too much,” you babble.

He reduces his speed a bit. “You want me to slow down, baby?”

“N-No. Keep going, please,” you change your mind. It just feels too good to have him inside of you. You dearly hope this won’t be the last time being with him.

“You’re so polite, hm? Such a good girl for me. Letting me ruin you like this, baby,” Chan chuckles, slightly changing the angle so he can fuck into you even deeper.

Oh, God. And he’s driving you closer to the edge with this.

“Whenever you’re ready, darling. I’ve got you, yeah?”

As if he’s manipulated both your mind and body, you follow suit, allowing the intense sensation to take over you. Pure ecstasy is rushing through your cells, while Chan helps you through your high.

“You look so pretty when you come for me,” he whispers, feeling himself getting closer too. A minute later or less, he fills the condom as he praises you with more words.

“You did so well for me,” is what he says before pulling out again.

Jisung manages to get home by three in the morning, calling a cab after Minho and Akira placed him into the vehicle.

He reaches for his phone for the first time within hours, instantly reading your texts before he replies.

[jisung]: you okay y/n?

[jisung]: why did you delete 2 messages and what were they about?

Fuck. He dearly hopes you’re safe.

However, the thoughts are spiralling inside his head. They’ve been doing this for the past hours ever since Venessa ended their date because Jisung perhaps accidentally moaned your name while they were getting intimate.

His drunk brain takes over him then, making it hard for him to stop hitting the keyboard with his thumbs.

[jisung]: do you need me to pick you up?

[jisung]: i’m not with venessa anymore… it was a useless date tbh… turns out she realised i have feelings for someone else lol

[jisung]: the whole purpose of meeting up with her was forgetting about that other person

Jisung doesn’t even realise he accidentally spilled that. He’s just a mess. It’s surprising how he manages to type that well.

[jisung]: fucking hell im rambling sorry.., that’s what drinking with minho and akira does to me lol

He shouldn’t have gone with them. His best friend and his colleague never know when to stop.

[jisung]: i would rather be with you my favourite person rn.. have you in my arms, take care of you, give you the best night of your life baby

[jisung]: wait 

[jisung]: shit i’ve had too many drinks

Jisung keeps worrying but decides to enter your shared apartment first, thinking it's best if he sobers up a little before he sends a message he might regret in the morning.

But his breath gets stuck in his throat when he notices you’re already back home—and you’re not alone. There’s a pair of men’s shoes carefully placed next to the ones you wore tonight on your way to the club.

Fuck. He’s such an idiot. And he can’t even be mad at you for sleeping with another guy when he was the one to brag about his own date.

Jisung hears footsteps then and a screeching noise that indicates your door is opening. 

“Oh, hi, I’m Chan,” the man that walks towards the bathroom introduces himself, when he sees Jisung.

Shit. Do you have a boyfriend? At least that’s what Chan instantly thinks.

Jisung sees the panic in his eyes and while he’s in fact jealous you slept with another man, he’s not in a position to claim you. Especially not, when he was the one who went on a date with another woman.

“Hi, I’m Jisung. I’m Y/N’s roommate,” he introduces himself.

“Roommate… okay, thank God,” Chan sighs and adds a little chuckle after his sentence, right before he disappears inside the bathroom.

Fucking hell. How is Jisung supposed to sleep tonight?

“Morning, baby,” a low voice wakes you up from your slumber.

When you slowly open your eyes, you’re sure you’re dreaming. But this feels real. Jisung is next to you in your bed.

Did you…

No, wait. The memories come back then. You did go to bed with a man—but not with your roommate. Still, he's the one with you now. So, Chan must have already left.

“Hey, Ji,” you whisper.

“You slept well?”

“Like a princess, to be honest. I had a great night after all,” you tell him.

It’s not even your intention to make him jealous—why would he be after all—but you did have an amazing time thanks to Hyunjin’s friend Chan.

“I’m sorry I saw your messages so late. I would have picked you up… you sounded so bored,” he tells you, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

Fuck. This certain look always messes with your head. But this morning is slightly different. You’ve got someone else on your mind. Perhaps, it’s just the remaining serotonin that Chan created to be let free inside your system, but you won’t complain.

“Well, I met one of Hyunjin’s friends then who kept me company. He said he met you in the hallway,” you tell him.

“Chan’s already gone?”

“Yeah. How was your date with Venessa?”

Jisung places a hand on his chest, pretending to be hurt, “You didn’t read my messages? It didn’t go that well. Went on for an hour. So I went drinking with Akira and Minho instead.”

“That sounds good too,” you say, still waking up. Your brain is so slow today.

“Hm, you were missing, though,” he replies with a smirk, as he starts playing with a strand of your hair until this one gets tucked behind your ear.

“I’d never disturb your emergency guys night, Ji,” you try to handle the conversation. Why is he being so flirty again? He’s gonna drive you crazy one day.

“Doesn’t matter, I’d rather spent my time with you,” your roommate says with a wink.

“What about Venessa?”

“I told you, we don’t work out.”

You can’t do this right now. You feel dizzy, so you get up, walking away from your roommate who just stares at you confused.

“I’ve gotta go. I’ve got work,” you say, grabbing your clothes.

Perhaps the whole thing will have one good part. Since Jisung went out with Minho last night—the guy that happens to be your former academic rival and then upgraded to being your annoying boss—so you don’t have to worry about another man getting on your last nerve when he’s fighting his own hangover.

“Oh… okay. Maybe we can have a chill evening tonight?” Jisung suggests.

You nod and rush to the bathroom. This is gonna be future-Y/N’s issue to deal with.

Jisung decides to not call after you and when he realises you still have not picked up your phone since last night—he deletes his own messages from his device.

He’s not aware though that you did in fact check them when Chan met him in the hallway last night. Shit. This is messing with your brain.

Why did you find out that after all, Jisung might like you back, when you started to feel like finally moving on? After you allowed someone else to be close to you without any regrets?

Chan has been confusing you—in a good way. Yes, it might have been just a one night stand but you’re actually ready to meet him again.

And now Jisung decides to drunk-text you that there is a slight chance for the two of you?

[jisung]: i’m sorry but something came up at work. i’ll have to stay a little longer and won’t be back until 21:00. are you still in for our movie night? 

Okay. That’s good. Your day was exhausting as hell—mainly due to the lack of sleep and ongoing thoughts—so getting some rest for yourself before facing your feelings sounds like a good plan.

[y/n]: no rush!! i’m home anyway and can wait 😊

Your roommate is typing and a few seconds later he sends another text.

[jisung]: ahh thanks baby. you can choose the film and food btw. make yourself comfortable i’ll try to get home asap ❤️

Han Jisung is gonna drive you mad one day. You can’t keep up with these mixed signals anymore but tonight might determine what’s going on between you two.

So, the adult person that you are, you decide to spend your after work hours by playing some good old Sims 4 game. You’ve got a save file that you usually use—one where you adjusted the sims townies’ horrendous looks and created some cool venues. You start this one, select your pre-made version of yourself and put her in a household with no one else than the Han Jisung sim.

What a life. You sometimes wonder what it would be like to be inside a video game. Things could be so much less complicated, for real. After all, you always manage to let your sim self talk to Jisung sim about her feelings and they end up happily married. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, right?

As well as a beautiful mansion, a well paid job and lots of friends. Of course, your sims mostly get there with the help of some cheats and installing so many modification contents that your computer is running so hot you could basically fry an egg on it. But that’s what a girl has to do.

Just when you’re about to let Y/N-sim approach Jisung-sim, you hear your phone buzzing.

It’s from Hyunjin. Three texts. Weird.

[Hyunjin, 19:44]: Hey, Y/N. I just wanted to tell you that you looked really beautiful last night. I hope my mate is treating you well. If this isn’t the case, you know where to find me.

Your mouth falls agape but you read further.

[Hyunjin, 19:45]: and before you ask or get insecure regarding Cecilia. I’m sorry but I don’t like her that way. I’ve told her many times, just so you know, but she doesn’t listen.

Fucking hell. What has gotten into him?

[Hyunjin, 19:46]: I’m not expecting a reaction or response or anything from you. I just needed to get this off my chest and be honest with you. I’m sorry if this is overwhelming. If so, please delete these messages and this never happened. 😇

Yeah, no. You need to calm down first. 

When you bring your gaze back to the computer screen, you realise you didn’t hit pause. Cool. At least your house is not on fire. But Y/N-sim took the chance and lit herself a joint to get rid of some work stress, while she’s sitting at the computer… playing The Sims 1.

Wow, the irony. And yes, your sim self version is able to do such forbidden things thanks to the extra content you installed to make your computer’s life a hell. 

However, that little video game version makes you realise you’ve run out of weed so you reach for your phone, searching for a certain contact.

[You, 20:07]: hey minnie are you in the area rn?

You get back to your game and a bit later, Seungmin replies.

[Minnie, 20:12]: You need something, doll?

[You, 20:13]: you know me too well 😊

Great, he’s here. Seungmin is your savior. You’re not going to smoke now, that’s for sure. After all, Jisung might be home soon. However, it’s always good to have some stuff here for emergencies like your roommate possibly telling you that he doesn’t feel the same way.

[Minnie, 20:14]: Of course I do. You’re my favourite customer after all.

[Minnie, 20:14]: So, the usual?

He does know you too well.

[You, 20:15]: yup that would be great!! 🫶🏻

[Minnie, 20:16]: Anything for you. I’ll be there in half an hour. Meet me at our spot.

Great. That means you still have about twenty minutes to play your game. Then you can pick up the goods and get back before Jisung comes home.

However, that’s not enough to make Jisung-sim fall in love with Y/N-sim, let them get married and move into their mansion together. Especially not now, since your video game version is a bit out of it. And your computer is so fucking slow.

Fuck… you didn’t hit pause again. Y/N-sim burnt the grilled cheese and her whole house down. Amazing.

Stuff like this can only be saved with cheats. Yes, you wanted an honest game. But you’re not getting one tonight.

You open your separate word document and look for the cheats you need to handle this mess—a few mods will help you with it—and start typing and typing and typing.

You lose track of time completely. Your fingers start aching from hitting the keyboard that much and for a second it feels like you enter some sort of trance.

Until you hear a loud bang.

And after that, all you see is black for a while.

A deep slumber takes over you, before you wake up from it again.

You are able to open your eyes, instantly being hit by the bright screen in front of you that seems to be going around your whole body, no matter where you look at.

In bright letters you read the following:

Welcome to the Real Life Simulations. Please choose a world to play in.

What on earth is going on?

And more importantly, what will you choose?

© j-One25 2024 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

jimin riding the struggle bus all over connecticut feat. jungkook sometimes helping and sometimes not helping

Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, ETA:unknown, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say. 

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night–like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

colour me in | jjk (m) | masterlist

Jungkook’s door only opens for you when there’s a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn’t close his door forever.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader

➳ genre: fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut

➳ contents & warnings: artist/fuckboy!JK, annoying parents, endearing friends, lots of smut and fluff, misunderstandings; and more chapter specific warnings! | 18+

➳ current word count: 339.8k

➳ status: ongoing

➳ cmi’s mood: still with you and my you by Jungkook | collaborative playlist 🎶

Keep reading

a thousand reasons why | jjk (m)

Summary: “And if all of this experience was indeed a dream, you chose to stay just a little longer.”

After leaving to work towards his dream rather than the bonds that shackle him to home, you didn’t expect to see Jungkook again years later at your best friend’s wedding. And even less, for love to rekindle at second glance.

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: f2l; fluff, angst, smut, crack

warnings: a whole laundry list tf: (past) minor character death, somewhat toxic parents, (mentions of) gambling, blond & then 5th muster pied piper (fuckboy) jk lol, this jimin, jealousy, alcohol consumption, unrequited love (not between jk & oc), friends fighting; explicit multiple (2) sex scenes that include: dom & big dick!jk, light hair pulling, marking, tiddie sucking/breast play, clit pinching, pussy slapping, soft & rough sex, praising, biting, some spit ig, oral (f. & m.), fingering, handjob, consent <3, cockwarming, squirting, oversensitivity, multiple orgasms, mouth fucking,… uhh, consensual drunk sex, protected & unprotected sex…. yeah

word count: 43.1k (i sincerely apologise <3)

credits: such a beautiful banner by my lovely @taemaknae​​ <3 !! beta’d by @bangtanhome​​​ @hobiandsprite​​ & @missgeniality​​ - your brains are exquisite and this fic would be NOTHING without you !! & parts read by @hantaev​​ ILY ALL <3

a/n: i’m honestly SORRY for the wc lol pls still read tho, i worked so so hard on it :’) based on the 2013 movie YJHD! and a belated love letter to one of my favourite people in this world - happy birthday, jeon jungkook. i’ll always be inspired by your words and admire you forever <3

uploaded to AO3, too (for those who prefer pdfs or mobile readings!) + the fic is split in ‘Before’ & ‘Now’ - that way, you can read it in 2 sittings if you’d like <3

➳ listen to the (collaborative!) ATRW playlist for the full experience!

MASTERLIST | WIPs

The slowly vanishing light of the sun bathes the room in a golden glow when you close the door to your apartment behind you.

Coming home feels different today. With the boxes under your arms, you feel the weight of the postcards and invitations heavier than usual. After letting Dia ramble about the plans for the next few days, dreamy eyes drifting off now and then, you’ve grown increasingly tired this evening. And yet, you can’t wait to send off the cards that remain before the big day breaks in.

You lift the sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, not bothering to change your clothes before you sit down at your desk and start putting the invitations into envelopes. You wait and read with a thumping heart, fingers working through the pile quickly until you finally see it.

Keep reading

Because We're Friends.JJK [m] Welcome Back 2

bestfriend!Jungkook x female Reader

Genre: drabble; smut (basically just porn)

Words: 3.8k

Synopsis: Things are back to normal with your best friend, except that Jungkook is now guiding you to the restroom of the restaurant to fuck you.

Warnings: oral sex (m. receiving); dom!jk/sub!reader; unprotected sex; rough sex; public sex; praising kink; big dick jk; hair pulling; hands restrained; spanking; crying of how good sex is; some bitings; cum eating (i think that's all)

Part 1

A new thing appeared in your relationship with your best friend: a huge, heavy silence on the night he came back from military. It's not like you're willing to talk about it and you came to think that acting like nothing happened is actually a good way to preserve your friendship. And time seems to give you affirmation.

It has been three months since 'it' occurred and Jungkook hasn't tried to get into your pants again. He hasn't acted strange, hasn't acted shy or ashamed. He is just his normal self — the sweet and kind best friend that you know.

For you, it's quite the same, even if you were first afraid that it might change things between you and your best friend. You were a little reluctant at first to hug or initiate physical contacts with Jungkook but when you realized that your friendship wasn't in danger, you just started to act like usual.

Everyone was and is happy in the best of worlds.

So why is Jungkook harshly squeezing your arm while he is dragging you towards the restrooms of the bar?

He pushes the door, quickly pushes you inside and almost slams the door behind you two. You've never seen him like that: furrowed brows, clenched jaws and even blacker eyes. He looks like he could commit a murder. He is definitely mad and the way he is breathing — deeply through his nose — is a clear sign that he cannot calm down.

You can only look at your feet like a child who is about to get scolded. For what? You have no idea... The night was going so well. It was nothing out of the ordinary since you were with Jungkook and a few of your commons friends at the bar you used to go before Jungkook's military service. Really, everything was normal. Jimin was making jokes, Hoseok was getting drunk sipping on his beer, Namjoon was trying to explain to your best friend a theory on physics. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Except that Jungkook got suddenly angry when Mingyu wrapped his arm around your shoulders. It's not even like it hasn't happened before. To be honest, you got closer to Mingyu when Jungkook was in the army, not that he could have ever replaced your best friend. Yet, you got to spend more time with Mingyu and you got to genuinely appreciate his company. Hanging out with your friends, it was not rare that Mingyu got a little... tactile with you — nothing inappropriate. And if Jungkook were truly honest, he'd admit that Mingyu was just acting like Jungkook has done with you a hundred of times.

But Jungkook won't ever admit it because Mingyu is not your best friend, Jungkook is. Jungkook is the one who came to your place at midnight to get rid off a spider because you were afraid. The one who got to run to the convenience store to buy tampons for you. The one who fucked you on his couch. Not fucking Mingyu.

And now your best friend is boiling with rage that Mingyu dared to be this physical with you. Why would you let a man touch you like that? If you need someone to touch you, you should ask Jungkook, just like he did during his welcome back party.

"You have nothing to say?" Jungkook asks harshly and you don't even know what to answer

You find the floor very interesting right now and you hope that your best friend will too so you can distract him. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.

"When did you get this close to Mingyu?" He questions after loudly sighing

You're quite surprised by this question. Is Mingyu the reason of his sudden anger? It doesn't make sense. Mingyu and Jungkook are indeed close friends. Is it bad that you are also friends with Jungkook's ones?

"When you went to the army" You mumble, not knowing if your answer will smooth or worsen the situation

It seems like it's the second one as Jungkook clenches his jaws again and you're afraid he'll break his teeth.

"Are you that desperate to be fucked?"

Your eyes immediately widen and your mouth falls open. What the hell?!

You would argue if your best friend's lips are not crashing into yours in only one second. This harsh kiss brings you back to the first — and only — time you were intimate with Jungkook. The same overwhelming sensations build in your body, heat your body. Jungkook kisses you firmly, just like he wants to punish you, his teeth clenching with yours from time to time.

Out of instinct, you wrap your arms around his neck — his hair is longer now and it is tickling your fingers — and his hands travel down to squeeze your ass and bring you as close as possible to his body.

It's quite easy to forget that you shouldn't do that with your best friend, especially in a public place but you can't think anymore. And when you clearly feel your panties getting wet and you moan at a rough spank on your right asscheek, you realize that Jungkook was right: you are desperate to be fucked by him.

You genuinely thought that you concealed that night. You locked it far, far, far away in your brain but body memory? It doesn't lie. Now that you can feel Jungkook again, you can't distract your brain from your needs, aka Jungkook's cock.

You haven't had sex ever since that time on your best friend's couch and you didn't realize as much you missed it until now. Somewhat, you haven't even looked for another man because you had the feeling that no one could make you feel like Jungkook does. And now, you're sure of it.

The way he is manhandling you is insane and so fucking good. You let him push you against the countertop and press his hard cock against your lower belly. You get even hornier when Jungkook captures your lower lip between his teeth and bites on it, making you bleed a little.

"You haven't answered my question" He whispers with a deep voice, his lips brushing against yours and driving you crazy "Do you want to get fucked that bad?"

Cockiness and smirk paint his face but you cannot deny.

"Yes" You concede and you're surprised not to feel ashamed by your confession — after all, Jungkook is your best friend and you've never felt the need to lie to him

Jungkook grabs one of your hands and guides it to his crotch area. You gasp when you feel how hard and big he is in your palm.

"Did you miss this dick?"

You nod, biting your swollen lower lip.

"Then show it" He orders

You immediately get that he is back to his dominant side, the side that he only seems to show during sex and gosh, it turns you on.

With a swift move, Jungkook steers your body so your back is against the door and exerts pressure on your shoulders to get you on your knees. You look so fucking submissive this way and Jungkook really has to control himself: for that, he takes one second to exhale deeply before his eyes land once again on you and your innocent face. You're faced with the impressive bulge in his pants and your cheeks are burning, which makes it impossible for you to take your eyes off of it and your mouth waters.

"Are you going to be a good girl and suck my cock?" He asks while unbuttoning his dark jeans

"Yes" You whisper, mesmerized by his hard member being unwrapped

You know Jungkook's dick, you even had it in you but jeez, seeing it face-to-cock it's something else... It's so big, so thick, how can you even take the tip in your mouth? However, you just can't wait to have just one physical contact with it and you squirm as you try to give a tiny friction to your soaked pussy.

"Open wide for me, baby" He says, his voice softer but his tone cockier

You execute and you literally drool when Jungkook pushes his tip on your tongue. He tastes so good that your eyes roll back. To get fully control, he keeps your head still against the wooden door and starts some light strokes, testing the waters — or more like your gag reflex. When he goes too deep, you choke but rather than to push him away, you look at him with your watery eyes to tell him that you're okay.

"Fuck, baby, don't look at me like that" He curses lowly

You look way too innocent with your big eyes glistening with lust and tears, which is a huge contrast with your mouth full of cock.

Your silent permission and the pleasure growing in him, Jungkook can't control himself anymore: he starts settling a quick pace while fucking your mouth. His dick twitches whenever you choke around him. At this point, you don't know if your chin, covered by a mix of saliva and pre cum, is wetter than your cunt.

You can feel Jungkook's hands tightening around your head as his pleasure builds up. He doesn't acknowledge that he is tugging on your hair but it's okay — you actually like it. He frowns and rolls his head back and you can't help but think that he is really, really hot like that.

"That's my good girl" He praises when you try to caress the downside of his dick with your tongue despite it making you choke

It's so fucking scandalous to have your mouth used like this by your best friend in a fucking restaurant. And gosh, the way the door jiggles loudly every time he deep-throats you is so arousing. You're sure — and so is Jungkook — that if someone gets close to the restroom, they will definitely hear the loud sounds of this messy blowjob, your gaggings and the light grunts of your best friend.

You try your best to keep your mouth open as much as you can, denying the ache of your jaws. You won't admit it but you think that you're more turned on than Jungkook right now — and that says a lot regarding how hard he is at the moment. When your eyes land on his dick, you realize that despite being at the back of your throat, a good part of his length is still untouched. You're amazed by how huge Jungkook is, and you just can't wait for him to fuck you like last time.

You get to take a huge gulp of air when your best friend finally pull out of your mouth. Both your lips and his dick are coated in saliva, making the scene extremely hot. Even your top is wet by the drool that escaped your mouth during the blowjob and Jungkook smirks when he thinks that not only Mingyu but everyone is going to see it when you'll step out of this fucking restroom.

Your best friend helps you to stand up and urges you to lean on the countertop. Facing the mirror, you're speechless at your reflexion: you look like a maniac! Your makeup is basically ruined with mascara smudged around your eyes, your foundation is completely gone on half of your face and your lipstick is everywhere except on your lips.

Automatically, you attempt to fix a little bit your messy hair but Jungkook catches your attention when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing his hard and wet dick against your ass and earning an impatient whine from you. You would love to scold him for sucking on the thin skin of your throat because you would like to avoid making it obvious that he fucked you but you can't: your brain is far, far, far away on the pleasure island.

"I'm gonna fuck so, so good, baby" He purrs and you suck on air "Rest your head on the counter for me"

You nod before executing and you can't help but moan when you feel your jeans and your soaked panties getting slide down your legs. You cannot see what Jungkook is doing but you feel his hot breathe on your asscheeks, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass. While you're doing your best to conceal your tears, your best friend watches in awe the red mark appearing. But because he could never get enough of just one spank, he gives you another one.

"Do you know how beautiful you are like this?"

He doesn't really need an answer, and he doesn't let you answer anyway since he slaps your butt again. You hiss every time and the tears roll down your cheeks but gosh, your pussy is so wet that it's embarrassing...

"Spread your ass for me" He orders

With shaky hands, you grab your cheeks and show your intimacy to Jungkook. You feel so submissive right now, so exposed but at the same time, you know damn well why you're doing all of that: you desperately want him to praise you. You liked it so much the last time and he hasn't praised you a lot so far. This thought makes you pout but you hide it by turning your face a bit against the cold marble of the countertop.

"Look at your little pussy" He coos "So fucking cute, all wet for me, right?" You nod but Jungkook gives your clit a rough slap to which to react by a loud whine and a sob "Didn't I tell you already to answer when I ask a question?"

"Sorry" You reply with a timid voice "It's all wet for you"

"Good girl" Jungkook says as he enters your dripping cunt with two fingers "Gonna stretch you a little"

Your moans get louder when he combines his fingering with circles on your clit with his thumb. It's like you have no self control as you grind in his hand. You are looking for your release and the way his digits explore your inside is divine. However, Jungkook is not looking for your orgasm: his finger-fuck is only practical. He just has to prep your pussy before entering you with his — huge — cock.

You pout when your best friend pulls off his fingers from your wet cunt. You turn your head to protest but what you see makes you speechless. Jungkook is licking your juices on his fingers and hums in delight — he embodies sins so well. He whispers something like "sweet" but you're not sure as he speaks so lowly. Jungkook is way too sexy to be handled. Just seeing him doing that makes your legs weak...

Rather he is not aware of your inner thoughts or he doesn't care, Jungkook brings you back to the moment when he grabs his dick at the base and brushes his tip on your sensitive bud. The sweet moan that you make is music to his ears and he presses harder just to hear it again.

'What am I going to do with you?' He thinks to himself. You look so precious, so kind and innocent but he knows damn well that you loved how he fucked you rough last time. It boosts his ego to be the only one to acknowledge this part of you. No one, not even your closest friends or your ex-boyfriends, knows it and it's driving your best friend crazy. A sudden wave of possessiveness takes control of his actions and he starts drawing hickeys on your ass.

Satisfied by his work, he goes back to his initial mission: fucking you.

He takes his time to push his tip into you, trying as best as he can not to hurt you. Sure, he fucked you already but you're still tight — especially with the way you're keeping your asscheeks spread for him — and most importantly, you're still his best friend. He doesn't want to hurt you, even when his horniness is blurring his vision.

"How are you feeling?" He grunts when the tip of his cock has disappeared

"So good" You reply, your voice full of lust

You absolutely love how stretched you feel, so much that a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine. At this point, you know that you love your best friend's dick and you don't know if you can get enough of it... It's so big that the border with pain is constantly brushed. And this feeling is even more obvious when Jungkook pushes deeper and deeper until your pussy is full of his cock.

"You're so big" You whine out of delight, the slight burn of the stretching makes your eyes watery

"Missed your tight pussy" He says between gritted teeth as he focuses on where your bodies connects — he is amazed by how well you're taking his dick

Your words definitely enhance his ego. Jungkook secures his big hands on your shoulders and wastes no time. He starts pounding you, harshly. The force that he uses shakes your whole body and you now understand why he holds you by the shoulders: otherwise, you'd be crushed into the countertop. It's so good that your mouth hangs open and no sound can't form as air is kicked out of your lungs.

You can't help but press your hands on the marble to be a little more steady. However, now that your ass is free, the very loud and sinful sounds of your skin clapping fill the room. It's so hot that your pussy clenches around your best friend's cock. You absolutely love the sensation of your asscheeks being slapped by his lower abs and thighs, enhanced by his harsh dick strokes.

However, for your best friend's taste, you're a little too free... In order to rectify that fact, Jungkook grabs your arms and pins them in your back thanks to a good grip of his right hand. You hate to admit how much to love it and how wet it makes you. Jungkook is so dominant when it comes to sex and you happily fulfill the submissive part that he wants. Fucking you like this, hard and deep, is overwhelming. So much that you don't acknowledge that tears roll down your cheeks and drool down your chin.

"You missed with cock, uh?" He teases you, his smirk noticeable in his voice

"Yes, yes, yes!" You chant, delirious

"You should have told me, I would have fucked you already" He whispers in your ear like a seductive snake, burying his hard member even deeper "We're friends right? And friends help each other when they're in need"

You don't quite know what to answer to that but it doesn't really matter because Jungkook gathers your hair in a fist ponytail and roughly tugs on it to lift up your face.

"Look how naughty you look, being fucked in the fucking restroom like a whore" He says and god, he is right

You look like a mess. Worse, lust is written on your whole face. You couldn't deny that you didn't like that, especially with the way your cunt tightens. You are definitely aroused by the way Jungkook fucks you in this very place.

"You're such a good little whore for me" His words of claim are accompanied by a bite on your shoulder that makes you whine

"Kook" You moan but don't know what to say

Your brain is not working as it should. All you can think about is how good this huge cock is making you feel. You absolutely love being pounded like this by your best friend.

"You should cum soon, you don't want someone to find out how naughty you are, do you?" He teases but your walls throb and Jungkook looks at you with a mix of surprise and awe in the mirror "Such a slut! You actually love that!"

In one second, he grabs your waist and without even pulling out of your pussy, he presses you against the door and remains to his rough fuck.

Your boobs and cheek are squished against the wood and you're quite panicked by the way the frame shakes every time Jungkook bottoms up.

"Go ahead, let anyone know how good you're being fucked" He mocks you but fuck, that's so hot that you can't help moaning his name "Say it louder" He commands and you obey

You're feeling too good to feel ashamed that someone has certainly heard you groaning your best friend's name. To be precise, a mix of groans and sobs.

"I love fucking your cute little pussy" He praises as a vicious hand travels down to reach your clit

The circles drew on your sensitive bud make your legs weak. You look for support as your hands clench around Jungkook's strong arm around your waist.

Jungkook's fingers are nothing shy. Quite the opposite: his circles on your clit are fast, making you seeing stars. You whine and moan and cry of how good is it, especially combined with his hard pounding.

"I'm gonna come" You notify

Jungkook presses his fit body against yours and whispers in your ears with a sweet tone that contrasts with his behavior:

"Go ahead, baby, cum on my cock"

You lose it.

Your best friend's fucking and his soft, caring voice are a menace. The tension that was building in your stomach releases all over you and your whole body shakes with your orgasm. Your nails dig deeply in Jungkook's arm flesh but he doesn't care. Not when you're so cute crying and cumming on his cock right here, right now.

"That's my good girl" He coos and gosh, you're embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches while you just came

"Kook, you need to—" You sound desperate and Jungkook cuts you off

He suddenly pulls off, leaving your soaked cunt empty and you immediately miss him. He gestures you to get back on your knees and you understand what he wants. While you open your mouth wide, you watch in awe your best friend jerking himself off. Fuck, he looks so hot! The way his abs flex, his biceps jiggle, his veiny hand works on his huge cock — coated with your own juices... You're losing your mind. That might be the sexiest thing you've ever seen.

Out of instinct, you poke your tongue out, maybe just to have a chance to taste his length again. For Jungkook, it's a vision of heaven. His very sweet and innocent best friend, completely ruined in the restroom of a restaurant where all your friends are, waiting to swallow his cum. That should be illegal — quite sure that is it, to be honest — but he wouldn't trade this view for nothing.

"You're going to swallow it all, right?" He purrs, faking innocence while he is pure evil

You nod obediently and your best friend cannot resist anymore. With a low growl, he pushes his tip on your tongue and shots his white and thick cum in your mouth. You swallow the salty liquid and, like you know he'd appreciate it, you show him your empty mouth.

"That's my good girl" He approuves, giving a gentle peck in your forehead, letting you know that he is back to his usual best friend behavior

You stand up on shaky legs and gasp at your reflexion in the mirror: you need some work to make you presentable again.

"So" Jungkook starts while he shoves his soft dick back in his briefs and pants "Tell me when you need something. You should feel free to speak your mind, Y/N, because we're friends, best friends"

You nod to him in the mirror, a shy smile on your lips because how do you tell your best friend that you love when he fucks you?

i think what men don’t realize is women are the horniest, dirtiest, nastiest sluts in the world when they feel appreciated & loved. you’d never have to ask for a nude in your life if you just facilitated a safe space for her to feel comfortable.

caught me. | jjk (m)

(edit done by my love, @httpjeon)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jungkook x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 13.5k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | roommate au. slight e2l au. smut. porn with very little plot.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. mentions of vaping. mutual masturbation, sex toy usage, oral sex (f + m receiving), gagging, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, some wall fucking, riding, unprotected sex (you know the drill, wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, jungkook has tattoos, long wavy hair and a giant schlong.

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you hate your temporary roommate, jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.

“Seokjin, how could you do this to me?” You whine from the kitchen island, reflexively stabbing at the bowl of cereal in front of you. You can’t believe your roommate is just now telling you, a day before he leaves for vacation, that his “friend” will be temporarily moving in while he’s away. Of course, Seokjin pays no mind to your tantrum. Instead, he continues packing the last of his luggage in the living space, across the room. Simply rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh in response, he’s far more acquainted with your antics than he’d like to be. He could almost call you the younger sibling he most certainly never wanted, a nuisance wrapped in feigned misery. The arrangement between the two of you seemed nothing more than the result of a last-ditch Craigslist roommate search.

He should have known the consequences, he supposes.

Keep reading

masterlist and links

howdy :) i'm darling. sideblog for skz nonsense. blog is rated 18+ in case i start acting up. my bias is jisung ever since he homewrecked me and felix. but i'm still not loyal.

blog tags: chan / lee know / changbin / hyunjin / han / felix / seungmin / jeongin

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main blog / pinterest / ao3

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masterlist is below the keep reading.

masterlist

fics are sorted by series alphabetically, then one-shots.

--

S E R I E S.

the acquisition (of sugar) series:

the accidental acquisition (of sugar) ; changbin/reader the anonymous acquisition (of sugar) ; chan/reader the absolute acquisition (of sugar) ; han/reader

the bodyguard (felix/reader):

chapter i chapter ii chapter iii chapter iv chapter v chapter vi chapter vii chapter viii chapter ix chapter x (finale) ao3 link.

the bodyguard sequel:

chapter i chapter ii chapter iii chapter iv chapter v chapter vi ao3 link.

the faerie prince series:

the same but different ; han/reader/felix -> ao3 link -> pinterest the fifteenth heir ; jeongin/reader -> ao3 link -> pinterest the tyrant prince ; hyunjin/reader -> a03 link -> pinterest the autumn wars ; changbin/reader, seungmin/reader, chan/reader -> a03 link -> pinterest the changeling affair ; lee know/reader -> ao3 link -> pinterest

princes (ot8/reader)

(chapter count tba)

sharing a bed series:

bang chan ; friends2lovers lee know ; friends2lovers seo changbin ; friends2lovers hwang hyunjin ; friends2lovers han jisung ; enemies2lovers lee felix ; enemies2lovers kim seungmin ; enemies2lovers ; sequel yang jeongin ; enemies2lovers

the threesome series:

saturday mornings ; chan/reader/seungmin the heist team ; lee know/reader/changbin the same but different ; han/reader/felix chill ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin

vexatious vixen (felix/reader)

chapter i chapter ii (finale)

wolfgang (chan/reader, lee know/reader)

(chapter count tba)

O NE - S H O T S.

stand alones

verisimilitude ; hyunjin/reader sensibility ; jeongin/reader

prompt fills

bang chan : one / two / three lee know : one / two seo changbin : one hwang hyunjin : han jisung : lee felix : one kim seungmin : one yang jeongin : one

Is This Goodbye?

pairing : brother's best friend! hyunjin x fem!reader (mentions of other members x reader)

genre : angst. smut. slight fluff.

warnings : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. toxic relationship dynamics. switch!hyunjin x switch!reader.

summary : he’s your brother’s best friend but he knows just as much as you do that that’s not all he is to you. // where your history is the reason you won’t work out. 

status : ongoing

taglist : @jisungsdaydreamer @minnieprincess85

main masterlist

Part One : a reunion that ends with hwang hyunjin in your bed once again.

Part Two : the two of you strike a deal that leaves more questions than satisfaction.

Part Three : an insight.

Part Four : actions have consequences, i'm sorry...

Part Five : time to let the fire out

𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Pairing: demon!chan x reader x demon!minho Genre: Smut (and a ton of plot for once) Word count: 8.5k Warnings: almost dying, manipulative felix, whole ton of plot, p in v sex, unprotected sex, harassment (not by the boys), minor character death, suicide, very brief dry humping, degrading, fingering, lazy depictions of blood, marking again >.>, etc... (i think i got them all sorry if i missed something. not proofread... i got lazy im sorry

A/N: I'm really trying to work on how i write scary things and describe situations sooo bear with me if the parts that would be "scary" are varying in intensity. i'm gonna cry cus my power went out and the desktop shut off so i lost my SMAU.... i'll post it tomorrow i guess.

Shadows of forgotten reap. They hound and haunt the weak. Those who wish to wield the devil's wrath forget not all the patient are safe from the aftermath...

You woke up late. Again. Walking into the office you saw your coworkers giving you sideways looks. Yeah, you were screwed. You sat at your desk and were about to start working when your boss, Mr. Cho, walked past your desk.

Everyone greeted him but as he passed he tapped your desk and motioned for you to follow him.

Jaehwa gave you a wide eyed look. Soojin crossed her fingers. As you trailed behind the man to his office your shoulder brushed Juwon's. He looked at you for. a moment before he kept walking.

Mr. Cho opened the door and motioned for you to enter, you took a deep breath and walked in. He closed the door and motioned for you to sit in the chair across from his desk before he finally... FINALLY spoke.

"Ms. L/n..." he hummed softly, looking at some papers on his desk as he sat down. "You're very good at what you do."

"Thank you sir." You nodded slightly.

"Being good at something doesn't warrant your recent performance though..."

"Oh-"

"I'm not done." He looked at you with a very irritated expression. "The rumors going around are also a major workplace disturbance, I will be having a similar conversation with Mr. Yu."

You bristled Juwon had taken the rejection and gone what rumors could there possibly be, "Mr. Yu has nothing to-" You started.

He raised a brow at you.

You went quiet.

"I don't think you understand what I'm trying to convey." Mr. Cho, leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. "I'm going to fire you."

Your eyes went wide. "Mr. Cho I-"

"You've done a great deal for our company and our news but your terrible performance now far outweighs what you've done here n the past." He shrugged. "There's nothing I can do."

"Mr. Cho, I- You don't understand how badly I need this job! I can take more hou-"

"Ms. L/n." He smiled slightly. It was an unsettling smile that made you feel icky. "You're a beautiful young woman. You don't really need this job based on the rumors your boyfriend is incredibly well off."

"Mr. Cho I'm not going to rely on a man to take care of me." You clenched your fists under the desk.

"Then I can't help you."

You bit your lip and sucked in a frustrated breath.

"Unless.."

You looked up.

"As I said before Ms. L/n you're a very beautiful young woman with such... potential." He stood and walked around the desk, resting his hands on your shoulders. "I can help you keep this job.. at a cost."

You stiffened. "Excuse me?" You stood, turning to face the man.

"I know you're not stupid, Y/n." He leaned in close, " You know exactly what I'm talking about."

You stared at him. This man...

"Choice is yours." He breathed, hot breath against your face.

This man was a depraved fuck. You moved from between him and the desk, trying to go to the door.

He grabbed your forearm. "Y/n I'm offering you the bet thing I can at the moment."

You let out a dry laugh. "If you think I'm doing that you're crazy."

"How bad would it look if the board knew you jumped into Juwon's bed after one drink?" He pulled you back to him. "You need this job Y/n. How long do you think that boyfriend of yours is going to be there?"

You wrenched your hand away. "You can't say a thing about-"

"This is your only chance at having a job." He grabbed at your waist.

You shoved him. "Mr. Cho. Don't hurry in firing me. I'll submit my resignation." You turned and walked out of the office.

Soojin was waiting for you outside. "What happened?"

You didn't say a word as you grabbed your things and went to the elevator.

"Y/n!" Jaehwa ran to you from his desk.

"Girl-" Soojin started.

"I'll see you guys around okay?" You snapped as you slammed the button on the elevator to go down.

"What happened in there?" Jaehwa pressed gently.

"It doesn't matter." You felt the tears welling in your eyes.

"Y/n."

You looked up at the sound of Juwon's voice. He looked guilty..

"I'm sorry- why are you cryi-" He started.

"Leave me alone damn it!" You shouted. "Are you happy?!"

"Come on I didn't want this to happen!" He reached for you.

You pulled back. "Stay the fuck away from me Juwon!"

The elevator doors finally opened and as you were about to storm in and close them you were staring right at a dark suit, straining against hard muscle. You looked up at Chan.

He looked right past you at Juwon.

Jaehwa's mouth fell open as did many passersby as they saw Chan.

"Chan-" You started but he grabbed your hand and pushed past Juwon, walking straight through the cubicles and to your boss's office.

Your boss looked up from his work as Chan threw the door open. The man's eyes widened for a brief moment as he saw you being dragged by Chan. "Can I help you?" He asked.

Chan stared at Mr. Cho before closing the door.

You tensed, "Cha-" You tried to grab the enraged demon but before you could he was looming over your boss.

He muttered something in the man's ear and you watched as Mr. Cho froze in fear. Chan turned around and grabbed your hand again, dragging you out of the office and to the elevator. "You don't need this." He grabbed your work ID card and tossed it on the floor.

He jammed the button for the elevator to go down and pulled you in.

Juwon sprinted to the elevator and Chan smiled as the doors closed. He looked at you. "You don't ned this job. You'll live with me."

"With you?" You looked up at him. "In that hell house??!"

"Hey!" Chan huffed. "I built that house with my own mind."

"You're a psycho." You muttered, hugging yourself.

Chan frowned at you. "I'm a maniac, there's a difference."

You laughed slightly and Chan smiled at you.

You were sitting in your apartment, staring into space the next day when the bell rang. You stood expecting it to be Chan telling you start packing but as you approached the door, hand outstretched to the doorknob, your tattoo burned.

Don't open it...

You bit your lip and stared at the door, you relaxed after a moment and turned to go sit back down. But the bell rang again.

You didn't move and held your breath for a moment. Then you heard the banging on the door.

"Police. Open up."

You froze. Why? You were about to open the door when the tattoo sent a burning pain up your neck and down your arm and back. You couldn't make a sound and held onto the wall.

Do NOT open that door.

You slid to the floor in pain, trying to stop the pain. It was excruciating, like your skin was being burned off. You half walked, half dragged yourself to the bathroom and tried to reach the sink.

You crumbled at the bathroom door and almost, almost screamed, you felt like you were on fire. Your vision darkened and when you opened your eyes again you saw a room you hadn't before.

A hallway on fire. At the end of the hallway stood an angel, wings spread wide, his back was to you, all you could see was his blonde hair.

You walked towards him, the walls were going up in flames but there he stood. As the flames began to lick at the beautiful feathers of his right wing. You shouted at him, urging him to run, flee the flames of hell fire, but no sound out.

The flames completely enveloped his right wing, devouring the soft feathers and scorching the limb to the bone.

He crumbled clutching his right shoulder as the skin singed. And the wing.. fell to ashes..

He squeezed his shoulder, the burnt skin raw jagged bone where his wing once was remaining, jutting out of the burned flesh. And then he whipped his head around to face you.

The angel was him. The man in the flower field, freckled face, blonde hair and all.. but his eyes. One beautiful, vibrant blue eye and one black as the void between your world and that of Chan.

You reached for the angel, but arms wrapped around you followed by four big black feathered wings and you were drawn back.

Your head was pounding. And someone was screaming crying.

"Y/N!" a woman's voice, you knew this voice all too well.

"Y/N! WAKE UP!" A man.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?!" And the deepest voice you'd ever heard.

Your eyes flew open and you sat up.

Soojin grabbed your hands. "Y/N! Calm down!"

You stared around frantically. Soojin, Jaehwa, that freckled face...

The doctor came up to you and started looking you over.

"Y/n." He kneeled beside your hospital bed. "Are you okay? What happened?" he reached for your hand.

The door to your room opened. Chan stood there, eyes wide, he looked scared. But his expression went from panic to anger. His eyes drifting from you to the freckled man.

He stood and looked at Chan. Soojin looked between the two men.

Jaehwa cleared his throat. "How is she doc?"

"She's fine." The doctor put her stethoscope away. "Who's in charge of her?"

The freckled man opened his mouth but Chan quickly interjected. "Me. I'm her boyfriend." He moved past the freckled man to your side and took your hand.

"I see, I can't identify exactly why she passed out but just make sure she's taking enough fluids and isn't overworking herself. If she feels dizzy, bring her back in, alright?"

Chan nodded. "Thank you doctor."

"My pleasure." The doctor nodded and left the room.

Chan looked at the freckled man.

The freckled man looked from Chan to you and back at Chan.

Chan's eyes narrowed.

"I'll take my leave." the freckled man looked at you.

"Soojin. Jaehwa." You smiled at your friends. "I'm fine. You guys can go."

Soojin walked to the other side of your bed and hugged you. "If you say so.."

Jaehwa smiled. "Take care of yourself."

You nodded and smiled.

Chan looked at you as Jaehwa closed the door behind him. "You've seen him."

You looked into Chan's eyes. "What is he?"

Chan bit his lip. "The only one of us who didn't fall all the way. Stay away from him."

You were in your apartment packing a week later, when Soojin came knocking on your door. She took you back to your old office to collect your things. You were siting through what was important to you and what wasn't when Soojin sighed.

"What is it?" You looked at her.

"You didn't hear the news?" She raised a brow before shrugging. "Then again you were fired-"

"Quit. I quit." You corrected her.

"Yeah sorry." She laughed. "But... Mr. Cho killed himself..."

Your eyes widened. "What...?"

"He hung himself in his house apparently, his mistress found him dead and called his wife." Soojin shook her head. "It's sad though, he wasn't a good guy but he was good at managing this place."

"He..." You sat on the floor, staring at the box of your things. You remembered how Chan whispered in Mr. Cho's ear, how Chan scared the man who was harassing you with one stare, how Chan made the freckled man leave.. He didn't... right? He wouldn't....

"Look... whatever made him do that... it must have been a lot.." Soojin closed a box and slid it to you. "We can't be happy he's dead, you can't wish that on anyone..."

You stared at the box of your things and sighed before putting on the lid. "He should rest in peace."

Soojin helped you carry a box down while you carried the other, putting them in her car before driving you back home. You smiled at your fried as you got out of the car and walked back to your apartment. You got in the elevator to go up to your floor ad as you got in a man with baseball cap pulled lower over his face entered.

You didn't think much of it, staring at the number going up on the little screen above the elevator door instead. 2... 3... 4... 5... 6....

The bell dinged at floor 14 and you got off, walking to your door and entering your apartment before locking the door behind you.

You looked at a package on the floor and picked it up, the address read, Lee Sungjin, Staaa St, Apt 153, Seoul, Korea.

You sighed, they always sent the neighbors packages to your apartment, what would Ms Lee downstairs do without you. You set the package on your counter and decided to give it to her the following day. You took a shower to relax before going to wipe the steam from the mirror.

As your palm pressed to the damp glass and you swept it across your eyes widened. The man with the baseball cap was in your mirror behind you. You whipped around only to be greeted by the wall.

"I'm paranoid." You muttered, deciding to brush your teeth and get some sleep. As you got into bed you heard a tapping on your window and glanced at it.

Probably a bird. You shrugged and got into bed.

Another tapping, louder now, and faster, as if whatever was tapping was trying to get your attention. You were about to get up when the tattoo burned. You grabbed it.

Don't go to that window.

The freckled man flashed through your mind for a minute. No... it's something else...

For a brief moment you debated forcing yourself to sleep and running until you found Chan, but then you immediately decided against it. You tilted your head slightly to see what was behind the glass, what could possibly be on the fourteenth floor tapping on your window if not a bird.

You stayed back from the window, easing your body to the end of your bed to see out of the window to your right.

As the full view of the window came into view you relaxed, there was nothing there.

BANG!

You jumped and shrieked, at the mutilated face in your window, skin charred and body shriveled. It slammed its hand on your window, no longer interested in luring you with its tapping.

You fell back off the bed and scrambled into the corner as it banged on the window desperately trying to get in.

You covered your ears and closed your eyes before arms wrapped around you.

"Sssshhhhh..." That lazy, tired voice said softly. Your eyes grew heavy and before you fell asleep you looked up at the man, he had a pretty face, chubby cheeks and eyes like a starry night.

You glanced at the window as you heard it shatter.

"Sleep... I can only help if you sleep.." he breathed.

And you buried your face into his chest and shut the world out before your mind gave into sleep.

You blinked the sleep from your eyes as you heard piano music. You sat up straight, looking around, you saw Chan at the piano, his hair dark unlike all the other times you'd seen him in your dreams.

"Can you play?" He asked, back turned to you.

"No.." You said softly.

"Come." he motioned for you to sit with him.

You walked to him and sat, he took your right hand in his left and set it on the keys. You turned to him. "I can't play.."

"Doesn't matter. Hit the keys like a mad woman if you want.." He smiled gently.

You blinked several times before pressing a random key. You moved your hands along the keys tapping black and white keys just smiling at how the notes melded together in a chaotic sound.

Chan watched you for a moment before finally saying, "You know I want to protect you right..."

Your hands froze.

"There's so many things I want to show you.."

There was a pause, in which you wanted to ask him. But he couldn't have. Not aft-

"I know what you're thinking and what you want to ask." He whispered.

You looked at him. "Did you?"

"No." He sighed. "I don't kill people pointlessly. Even if I wanted to.."

"I knew you couldn't have..." You relaxed.

He tilted his head. "Then why were you wondering?"

"You and your brothers are unpredictable is all." You laughed at the look on his face.

"Maybe I should be more predictable so you aren't always on your toes." He smiled, not a prideful smirk or a small shy smile but a real teasing smile and your heart fluttered. He took your hand in his and whispered, "I know it seems like we don't care but trust that we do.." He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently before muttering. "And I will protect you myself. No matter what.."

You stared at demon in front of you. He looked so human to you, so natural and real as you reached your hand out and caressed his cheek.

He leaned into your touch and opened his mouth to speak but you kissed him before he could get a word out. He relaxed and kissed you back, pulling you against him.

You gasped softly as he fell against your bed, you straddling him, he looked up at you, his pretty dark eyes locked on yours. He laid there beneath you only in a pair of sweatpants, his hands were set on your thighs, thumbs gently tracing circles. You touched his chest hand moving lower to his chiseled abdomen.

"Are you just going to admire me?" He laughed slightly.

You rolled your eyes and leaned down, your lips meeting in a tender kiss that he quickly turned hot and passionate, tongue forcing it's way into your mouth. You moaned softly and felt the smirk growing on his lips before he flipped you over, smiling down at you. He pulled your shirt off your body, lips going to assault your neck. For a moment you stared at the window but Chan grabbed you face and made you look at him.

"it's gone." He muttered, "It's just us." He looked into your eyes. "They know not to touch what's mine when I'm here." He moved lower kissing your abdomen and down to your thighs nipping at the skin.

You let out a soft sigh grabbing his hair. Chan pulled off your pajama pants and kissed your clothed heat before dragging the panties off your legs. His lips wrapped around your clit, as he eased two of his fingers into you. You let out a soft cry squirmed, his free hand came up to hold your hip.

You whined and bucked but he held you firmly, the hand moving to press down on your center. "No.." He said lowly.

The vibrations drew a moan from you and Chan hummed, fingers moving slowly, aggravatingly so. You whined and bucked slightly.

He looked up at you, "Say please."

"Your ego is so huge." You muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He smiled.

You rolled your eyes. "Please.."

"Good girl." He pulled out his fingers and kissed your stomach, climbing on top of you.

You tugged at his sweats and he smiled removing them with your assistance before kicking them off his legs and to the floor. He kissed you gently as he sank into you.

You whimpered at the stretch and he smirked slightly. "Too big?"

You bucked your hips up to his. The demon gasped and glared at you.

You smiled innocently. Chan smirked and muttered. "I'll take that as a no.." He gripped your hips and pulled out before slamming into you again, your body jerked up the mattress as he set a brutal rhythm, fucking into you hard. You moaned and gripped the sheets.

Chan's hand found yours and pressed it into the mattress, the sound of skin smacking skin filling the room as his cock bullied into you. "Look at me when I'm making you cum." He muttered, leaning down, his lips hovering over yours.

You looked up into his eyes and your pussy clenched. He groaned and let go of your hand in favor of holding your face gently. "So tight.. so perfect..." He grunted against your lips before kissing you hard. His tongue clashing with yours, swallowing your cries as he moved faster, spiking your g-spot again and again.

His hand moved to grip your throat gently. "So pretty.." he pulled back, "Are you going to cum for me? Show me how much you love taking my dick?"

You nodded, mewling as his grip tightened slightly on your throat, not to hurt you just to keep you in place, yet your hands still flew up to grip his wrist and forearm, for something to ground you as he plowed into you.

"Cum for me." He moaned o low it came out in almost a growl.

Another buck of his hips sent you toppling over the edge and he let himself fall over you, grinding into you as he reached his peak with you. Groaning and muttering, "You did so good for me..." he kissed your cheek gently and pulled himself off you, rolling onto his side and hugging you to his chest.

"Thank you.." You muttered softly.

He looked down at you, "What for?"

"For always saving me." You kissed his pec and watched in the moonlight pouring in from your window as his ears turned red.

You giggled.

"There's really so much I want to tell you." he said quietly.

"Why not tell me now?" You poked him.

"Because I don't think you're ready yet." He said simply.

"Oh but fuck me why don't you." You rolled your eyes slightly.

"Should I?" He smirked at you.

"Not literally-" You started but he kissed you, effectively shutting you up.

You woke up the next morning and found Chan next to you, hair a mess, peacefully sleeping. You took him in, you caressed his face gently, and took a moment to just admire him.

His eyes opened slightly and he said softly, "I can feel you staring, y'know."

Your face got hot. "That's not fair! You can't jus-"

Chan kissed you gently and smacked you with a pillow before sprinting to your bathroom. He poked his head out and stuck his tongue out at you before closing the door.

You stared in shock for a moment, pulling the blanket over your chest. When did he become so playful...

You crumbled to your knees outside the apartment. You saw the blood plastered on the wall, in an ugly horrendous smelling, splat. Your hands immediately flew to your face and you dropped the package, one of the police walked out and grabbed you. "You shouldn't be here ma'am-" He started.

Your eyes widened, silencing the man as one of his fellow officers said "We found her.."

You felt sick to your stomach at the sight of her, eyes gone, the jaw slack open like the bones connecting her jaw were broken, you were about to pass out at the sight of her body from the breasts down burned.. shriveled like- a memory of the thing at your window a few days before flashed in your mind as you fell and Chan caught you.

"Y/n..." He shook you slightly.

You remembered the man in the elevator, how he hid his face. The thing in the window, the way you felt the hands round your throat. You trembled. And whoever killed Mr. Cho..

Chan shook you again and you looked at him. He took in your face for a moment before he looked up, eyes widening, he held you a little tighter, his eyes emitting a violet glow. You heard his voice in your head before you reached for him.

Something was here.

You didn't move a muscle. You had never seen Chan like this. Even with the whole Juwon situation. He looked genuinely concerned and the aura of possessiveness you felt radiating from him was almost overbearing.

It's not safe here...

You looked up at him as he lifted you in his arms. Why wasn't it safe? What happened to Ms. Lee? Why was Chan acting like this?

We'll come back for your stuff another day.

Soemthing told you to pick up the package and as you moved to do so Chan swept it up and moved to carry you away when a police officer stopped him.

"May I ask you two a few questions?"

Chan looked at him for a moment. "She's in shock. Try again later." He tried to move past the policeman.

"Sir, this woman came here as if knowing something happened."

You stiffened and Chan lowered you to your feet, stepping between you and the officer.

"Chan-" You started but you felt it again, the overbearing possessive aura radiating off him.

"She doesn't know anything." Chan said lowly.

The policeman's eyes widened slightly before he relaxed. "Whatever you say.." He moved aside.

Chan pulled you behind him briskly. You looked back at the policeman but he was gone. You blinked in confusion for a moment and turned to look at the demon dragging you. "Wha-"

"There's no time." Chan said before pressing the down button on the elevator. "It's not safe here anymore."

You were about to ask why but he pushed you into the elevator and pushed the button to your floor. As the elevator when down one floor Chan ushered you into the hall and you grabbed your keys about to start looking but then you saw him. The man with the baseball cap, only now you could see his eyes from under the hat, completely black with thin red slits. He turned to you completely but Chan put you behind him and stared daggers at the man in front of your door.

Chan backed up to the elevator and pushed the button to go down.

You looked at him as the elevator descended to the ground floor. "What-"

Chan looked at you. "You... are a very valuable human."

You leaned against the railing of the balcony of your hotel room. Chan had left you here while he got everything else ready for your move to his house. You stared at the city lights below, it was a very expensive hotel, and despite your protests that a less lavish place would be better Chan refused stating the security knew you and would defend you very well.

You hugged yourself for a moment, thinking about everything. Mr. Cho's suicide, how brutally Ms. Lee was murdered, the thing you saw outside your window that night, the man with the baseball hat standing outside your apartment. You looked at the package in your hands.

"I've been looking for a minute to catch you alone." a deep voice said behind you. That deep voice.

You turned to look at the freckled man, the angel. He took a step towards you and you took a step back, holding the package tightly

"Are you afraid of me?" He reached for you but hesitated, eyes flicking to the mark on your neck.

You didn't answer, debating if you could sprint past him back into your hotel room.

"I wouldn't do that." He smiled sweetly. "Let's just talk okay?"

You dodged as he reached to touch you again. "I'll scream..."

"What has Chan told you..." He walked towards you.

You took a step back and then you were pressed against the railing. "What's important."

"Has he?" The man took another step and you tensed. "You have no where left to go but down. So, let's talk. So neither of us fall."

"What do you want?"

"Don't you want to know why those things are looking for you?" He lifted his hand and a leather book appeared in a cloud of black. He held it out to you. "Don't you want to know what Chan did to you?"

The mark on your neck burned. You looked at the book and then back at the... what was he? He wasn't an angel, you didn't think anymore...

"Well?" He shook it in front of you temptingly.

You bit your lip. "What's in it?"

"What you're looking for."

The mark on your neck throbbed but you almost couldn't feel the pain as you reached for the book.

Someone's here...

A smile spread across his face as your finger tips met the aged leather of the book.

You moved to the railing and started to open the book's first page.

"Go ahead." He pushed the book fully into your hand.

You flipped it back at his face. He stumbled catching the book before you threw yourself back off the side of the balcony.

"What are you-" he bellowed, running to the edge as you fell back. His face hardened as you landed securely in Changbin's arms.

The demon spread huge bat wings, bracing his impact against the side of the hotel. "Chan sent me." He pulled his wings in close before pushing away from the building.

You looked at the... angel? still on your balcony. He watched you go for a moment.

"Why isn't he following..." You asked quietly.

Changbin pulled up and slowed down, stopping the air whooshing past your ears. "Even if he could throw himself with enough momentum, he can't fly. Not anymore."

You remembered how one of his wings fell from his back in ash. "Oh.."

You stayed quiet most of the way to Chan's home, you blinked a few times, trying not to fall asleep.

Changbin smiled. "You can sleep, I won't drop you. But what's that package..?"

You looked at Ms. Lee's parcel for a moment. "Something for a friend." You said softly.

He kept flying without pushing anymore. You yawned after a while and did fall asleep. It was the first time you'd slept well in so long, even though it was a short nap (Changbin's landing wasn't the best).

You jolted awake as he stumbled wings flailing backwards to halt his stumbling. He smiled sheepishly, apologizing for waking you as he set you down, motioning to the large house behind you. "Tada!" He smiled. "Awesome right?"

You nodded, looking at the white bmw outside the house. You had never seen that car before.

"Oh," Changbin motioned to it. "Minho's."

You nodded.

He led you into the house and Chan was waiting with Hyunjin in the foyer. The latter ran to you the moment his rose colored eyes set on you. He grabbed your shoulders, inspecting you from head to toe for a moment before Chan pulled him back. He searched your face for a moment and turned to Changbin, "He followed?"

Changbin shook his head and sighed. "I flew pretty fast."

Chan nodded and smiled at you, looking at Hyunjin, "Take her, I have to deal with something."

Hyunjin smiled and motioned for you to follow. As you were going to follow him, he put his arm in front of you, you looked towards the spiral stairs where Hyunjin's gaze was locked.

Minho came down the steps and he stared at you before looking at Chan. "Really?"

"Listen-" Chan started.

"Nope." Minho turned on his heel and went back up the stairs.

"Don't mind him." Hyunjin took your hand and led you up the stairs and around the corner motioning to a door. "Changbin is there. He pointed to the room across the hall from it, "Jisung," He motioned to the door next to it and stopped. He sucked in a breath and motioned to the last five, "Jeongin, mine, Seungmin, Minho, and all the way at the end of the hall is Chan."

"Where am I-" you started.

"In Chan's room."

You turned to look at him. "Huh-"

Hyunjin blinked. "Or would you prefer mine...? Jeongin and Changbin sleep pretty uncomfortably, and I think Minho might actually feed you to his pets. Seungmin would do something stupid. and.. Jisung doesn't exactly have a bed."

You pursed your lips. "It's fine.."

"Chan barely sleeps anyway, that's why he wanted you to take his bed." Hyunjin smiled and motioned to his bedroom door. "I'm right there if you need anything."

"Thanks..." You blinked.

"Of course." He kissed your cheek gently and smiled. "Sleep well."

You opened the door to Chan's room and entered slowly, looking around, it was different from the room you'd see in your dreams, there was still a desk in the corner, his big bed, with soft dark sheets but there was a TV, a door to his bathroom and another to his closet.

You opened it and looked at his clothes, most of the things were dark, dark blues and greys and so much black. You stared at the few white shirts he had and huffed softly. "No pjs."

You looked at the other side at his more casual wear and smiled slightly as you were greeted by a dark hoodie. You changed out of your clothes from that day into the hoodie and your underwear and tossed around the pillows a bit on the bed before deeming it comfortable enough and getting under the covers. You looked around for the remote a bit before you found it on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. You reached and turned on the TV, flipping aimlessly through the channels.

You found some random horror movie to watch and stared at it for a moment. After a few seconds the killer came around and stabbed one of the characters multiple times before stomping on them. You cringed, the camera panned down to the person laying lifeless, jaw slack as if broken. Your stomach flipped and your turned off the TV.

You kept replaying it in your head. We found her.

The sight of Ms. Lee's mutilated corpse.

"You seem upset..."

You jumped as Chan slid into the bed next to you.

"It's just me." he laughed and looked at you, eyes locked on yours before he whispered. "Don't watch movies like that."

"Sorry." You muttered, leaning against him.

"Don't apologize." he hugged you to him.

You didn't say anything to that as his hand rubbed your shoulder gently.

"What did he tell you?" he finally said, you wouldn;t have heard if the room wasn't so quiet.

"He had a book.." You replied.

Chan didn't respond but he tensed and you looked up at him.

"He said he could tell me what you couldn't."

"Do you believe him?" Chan asked, gaze on the blank TV screen.

"No..."

"Good." He whispered, kissing your head gently. "Go to sleep, 'kay?"

You nodded and tried to relax.

You honestly didn't know when you fell asleep, but you woke up in the field of flowers and stood.

You turned a couple of times, confused.

The man stood there, his eyes a vibrant blue. His lips started moving but you couldn't hear him. Why couldn't you hear him...

He noticed your confused expression and his face fell, he bent over, grabbing a bunch of flowers and grass, using them to write out, "You can't hear me?"

You nodded.

He kicked the flowers and looked very angry for a moment before he grabbed them and started spelling something out but he stopped, standing to his full height he looked at you.

You blinked and took a step back. He shook his head frantically before tapping his wrist.

"We don't have time...?"

He nodded, pointing to his neck then at you, then his ears before crossing his arms.

"I can't hear you because of my neck... oh? the tattoo?"

He nodded fervently and bit his lip, brows furrowing, he pointed to his neck again.

"The tattoo?"

He raked his thumb across his throat in a slit motion.

"The tattoo is going to kill me?"

He smiled and nodded.

You looked down for a moment. "How? Why? Chan wouldn't- he-"

He held his hand out and the leather bound book flew past the flowers and into his grasp.

He used his free hand to make a drinking motion.

"Drink?"

He shook his head, you noticed the sun was darkening, the man's movements becoming more desperate. His eyes widened and he mimicked rubbing them before yawning and doing the drinking motion.

"Coffee?" You guessed.

He nodded and tapped his wrist before lifting both hands into the air, straight up in a point.

"At noon..." You tilted your head, "Where-"

He shrugged and pointed to you.

You were about to guess again but the ground shook and split open beneath you. You grabbed around in the dark before closing your eyes tightly. And you fell back into your body, you opened your eyes slowly and looked around the room.. You were alone.

The next morning you saw someone in the kitcen, recognizing Minho you turned on your heel and tried to run somewhere else but you were stopped by a "You're not that sneaky."

"Oh come o-" You started.

Minho stabbed the knife he was using to cut the fruit into the cutting board and looked over his shoulder at you. "Are you so scared of me?"

"You came at me with a power drill-"

"You're human."

"Wow thanks for noticing." You rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, muttering to yourself as you fiddled with the coffee maker.

Once you got the coffee going, it was quiet all except for the soft trickle of the coffee into the pot.

Minho went to the stove and started making eggs. "Hand me that." he motioned to the pepper.

You handed it to him and he kept shook a little onto the eggs.

"Can you cut that?" he motioned to an onion. "Rough chop."

You did as he told you and he hummed softly when he took them from you. When majority of the things were done you smiled, turning to get a mug from the cabinet, coffee, finally...

You paused as Minho pressed behind you, breathing in your ear. "Is something wrong?"

You held your breath half expecting him to snap your head off, but he rested a hand on your hip.

"So easily scared but such big talk." He huffed a small laugh. "Stupid human."

Your face burned as he handed you a mug, "I'm not stupid..."

"You sure?" He tilted your head so you looked up at him.

Your heart stopped, when he didn't look like he wanted to kill you, he was really attractive.

"You humans faces really give away so much stuff about you." he mumbled, you could feel his breath on your lips. "No wonder Chan likes you. Such a slut." he pulled your hair and you gasped. He pressed harder against you, crotch rubbing against your ass as he breathed, "Lucky me I didn't mark you." He pulled away leaving you feeling hot and bothered.

"Hey!" You huffed, rubbing the back of your head.

He grabbed mug from the cabinet and walked over the coffee maker as if he hadn't just disrespected you like that.

"Asshole." You muttered.

He turned back to whatever he was doing, sipping his coffee, and for a brief moment you swore you saw a small smile on his face.

You somehow made it out of the house without Chan or the others suspicion, it was one meet up.. nothing could go wrong.

Or so you thought.

You went to a coffee shop near the house in case you needed to book it, you weren't afraid of him (you were), what could he possibly do? He couldn't even fly (but neither could you).

"The tattoo makes you more attractive to demons. Chan claimed you." He huffed softly. "It's also why you can't hear me."

"What does the tattoo have to do with the things I've seen?" You pursed your lips.

"Those things.. are demons ." He looked at his cocoa, "Think about how many demons want a part of the strongest's power? To crawl up to his level of strength?" He huffed a laugh. "The Sin of Pride isn't something to be tossed around uselessly." He leaned forward, and for a brief moment his eyes looked manic. "So, why would he choose a human like you..."

You squeezed your mug and exhaled.

He slid the book across the table. "This has more answers."

You looked at it. "What is it...?"

"A gift."

You took the book cautiously and opened it. The pages were blank... all of them. You flipped from left to right brow furrowing. "Why-"

"Read it in a church. The words only appear in the lord's house." He stood and stretched.

"Wait!" You stood as well.

"Hm?"

"Who are you? Why don't the others trust yo-"

"Call me your guardian angel." He smiled. "I'm going to save you from them all." He smiled and walked away.

You looked at the book before looking back at your "guardian angel", he had vanished, completely gone in the crowd.

You had a bit of time to yourself so you ended up going to the church. The pastor was doing something at the sanctuary, you entered silently and closed the door behind you. It had been a long time since you'd been in such a place. You dipped your fingers in the water at the front and performed the sign of the cross.

You walked further into the church and moved to sit on a pew, you grabbed the book from your bag and were about to open it when the pastor greeted you.

"It's not often young people like you walk into the house of god." The pastor tilted his head at you.

"I'm just... thinking a lot." You said dismissively.

"About?" He asked clearly trying to get something out of you. "I see you're very devoted." He motioned to the tattoo.

"Oh-" You almost laughed. "Yeah... Very..."

"So what's on your mind child?"

You pursed your lips. Could you really tell him about the book..? "Well... I've been interacting with certain people recently." You reached into your bag. "Things have been happening recently."

"Because of those people?" the pastor sat beside you.

"So I've been told." You pulled out the book. "And this... has the answers."

He blinked a few times. "What is it..?"

You shrugged. "I can't read it anywhere but a church so.."

The pastor took the book from you and opened the first page. You looked over his shoulder, hoping to see words.. and there was nothing.

You grabbed the book and slammed it shut, opening it again.

Nothing. nothing but aging yellow blank paper.

"I don't- he said..." You opened and closed the book a few more times.

"Now," the pastor took th book from you and rested on the seat. "There's only so much that God can do perhaps first, you should direct yourself to a mental health prof-"

"Are you calling me crazy?!" You looked at the man.

"No- just-"

"I know it sounds crazy but this tattoo the book- the things I've been seeing-"

"I don't really think-

"You don't understa-"

Thunder clapped outside and you turned to the window as it started raining.

"That wasn't in the forecast.." The pastor stood up and sighed. "I'll get you an umbrella so you don't get wet when you go out there."

You shoved the book into your bag. "It's fine."

"I really insist. I could not help you and-" The pastor froze, gaze locked on the church doors.

"And nothing." You stood and turned but the pastor grabbed you and held out his bible.

You finally looked at the doors. the man with the cap stood there. His eyes completely black, gaze locked on you and the pastor.

"In the name of Jesus..." The pastor moved slowly from between the pews, backing you up behind him. "I cast thee from this holy house."

The man with the baseball cap took a step forward and for the first time you felt something heavy weighing down on you.

"In the name of the lord, our savior, you shall not walk upon this hallowed ground."

The tattoo burned and you clutched your neck. The pastor grabbed his cross and held it out.

The man stopped, staring at you from under the rim of his hat.

"Child what's wrong-"

You gasped in pain as you felt your tattoo being undone and redone over and over. The pastors eyes widened and he stumbled back away from you in shock.

"You bear the mark of a demon! You see things! You- In the nam of Jesus Christ I remove this evil from you!"

You collapses and held your neck, it felt like the skin on your neck was being torn off your muscle. Your hand instinctively held on to the tattoo.

"I cast out this wicked being from this daughter of the lord!"

And then you felt the burning. Like your whole body was fire. A brief image of the freckled angel burning in the hallway flashed through your mind and you let out an ear piercing shriek.

"I beg of you lord free this chi-"

You hugged yourself, it burned. You remembered how Chan had smiled at you, how Changbin had offered to share his food, the sight of Jeongin counting his money, Hyunjin sitting there painting anything and everything. This couldn't be it.

You saw the blood before you realized what happened. Your eyes went wide, the burning stopped.

And the pastor's head was gone.

When Minho saw his older brother writhing in bed and clawing at the frame as if he were in pain he thought three things. The first was that judgement day had finally arrived and he and all his brothers were about to burn in holy fire and DIE. The second was that he was going into heat and resisting the urge not to find you his precious human and fuck the daylights out of you. And the third... he didn't want to think about the third.

Because why on earth would you ever try to get rid of his brother?

"Minho!" Chan jerked up and looked at him. "What is she doing..."

Both men stared at each other before Minho turned and went straight out the door.

Chan tried to stop him. "Minho- Don't" He got up but collapsed, "JEONGIN!"

"Hyung-" the younder demon stared at his brother in shock. "Why are you on the ground-"

"Minho's going to kill her-"

"Hyung I can't stop him-"

"MINHO!" Chan shouted.

MInho tore through your old apartment and found nothing. He considered paying that man who wouldn't leave you alone a visit but decided against it, then he remembered. Changbin mentioned you had a run in with... that thing.. at your hotel.

So when Minho realized you were breaking the pact without realizing he went straight to all the nearest churches. After scaring the living daylights out of several nuns, interrupting a baptism and a small wedding he found you in a church near a coffee shop.

He braced himself to enter, the storm outside whipping his hair into his eyes. Why the hell were you here in the first place? He threw the doors open just in time to see the man with the baseball cap pouncing on you, no not a man. That devil..

Minho threw himself at him with such force, both of them flew and hit the floor of the sanctuary, skidding across the floor as Minho wrapped his hands around the thing's neck.

You sat up and scrambled back, your hand touched blood and you looked at the pastor's body. You started hyperventilating, you needed to leave. You needed to run. You looked at Minho who was still slamming the man's head against the steps of the sanctuary.

You got up and took off running, stumbling over yourself as you tried to get to the church doors, you crashed against them fumbling to pull them open when a hand slammed beside your head. The wood of the door cracking as it slammed shut.

You didn't dare move. You couldn't even breath, watching as the blood seemed to waft off his hand in ash.

"Explain." he said lowly.

You didn't speak. You didn't turn around, eyes still glued on the door in front of you. Minho grabbed you shoulder and turned you around pushing you against the door, his red eyes narrowed.

"Were you trying to kill Chan.."

"What?" You were confused, "Kill him?"

"You really want to act stupid?!" He snapped.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND! He told me the damn book would show the words in a church so I came here and-"

"Who?!" Minho glared down at you.

"The guy with the freckles.." You muttered.

Minho stared at your tear filled eyes and pulled away releasing a heavy sigh. "What book?"

You stood and walked between the pews grabbing your bag and pulling out the book.

Minho took it from you, flipping through the pages, "It's blank."

"He said it wouldn't be if I read it in a church." You whispered.

"He said that to kill you and Chan." Minho gripped the book tightly in his hands and the it went up in flames in his grasp. "Do you know what that tattoo means?"

You nodded. "Chan said because I'm hi-"

"Because you're his." Minho rolled his eyes. "Without sugaring it over. Chan made a pact with you. Even if that pact is broken and the mark is removed, remnants of Chan's power are still in you. To have the power of one of us, and no one to save you it makes you an easy target."

"He said he was helping me-" You thought about how innocent his smile was then how Chan had said not to trust him. Tears filled your eyes, you were an idiot, you were so stupid, you- you-

"He lied to you."

And you believed it. You sat on the floor beside the pew and stared at a sheet of paper burning on the ground from the book.

"I don't know if it works like this." Minho muttered to himself.

"What?" You looked up.

He turned away for a moment, staring.

"Minho-"

"Do you trust me?"

"I-"

"Do you?" he got on his knees in front of you.

You stared at the demon. Who attacked you with a power drill. Who scared the living shit out of you every time you saw him. Who just saved your life. You nodded.

Minho grabbed your wrist and pulled it to his mouth, you jerked but his grip tightened and you pulled back he fell over you as his fangs sank into your wrist.

You gasp as you felt your wrist throb and your neck burned. Just as the church doors flew of the hinges and your head turned seeing Chan standing at the door.

© 2024 xxkissesforchanniexx. DO NOT COPY OR TRANSLATE MY WORK

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-> 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 .ೃ࿐ [ — bangchan ]

➳ published: 13.07.24 ➳ credit: banner & divider: @aaagustd || beta: @wooahaeproductions ➳ brother's best friend!au || genre: smut || rated: m ➳ pairing: brother's best friend!bangchan x reader ➳ summary: it's been a few years since you saw chan, your older brother's best friend and the first guy you ever had a crush on. a few years can change a lot of things, unexpectedly, especially when a fantasy becomes reality. ➳ word count: 3.2k ➳ warnings: age gap (7 years), masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism ➳ author's note: i don't think i've ever written an age gap before like this so let me know what you think. ➳ taglist: @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu @sanjoongie @honey-andmilktea (please let me know if you want to be tagged in future works)

your thoughts and feedback are always welcomed and are always appreciated. let me know what you think of my work so i can continue to give works and know they are enjoyed.

It was an accident.

You need a change of clothes and know that your brother had kept some of your clothes in his room from your last visit, so you went to grab them. All you want is to get changed. All you have to do is head upstairs, take the first left, and head into the first room on the…

Mm.. mmm…

You freeze, hand on the door handle, mid turn. Did you hear that right? Your body temperature rises, thoughts running rampant through your mind as you try to wrap your head around what you had just heard. The sound is unmistakable even if you are trying to figure out whether you’ve finally gone crazy or not.

Ah… fuck…

Swallowing thickly, you turn your head tofind Chan’s door ajar and see the sensual red lights spill across the threshold, stopping at your feet as if tempting you to take a step closer. You’ve always had a crush on Chan, the actual cliche of it all not being lost on you when you finally realised and accepted those feelings while doing everything in your power to chase them away. You dated, compared everyone to him, and always managed to find your way back to him when your heart got broken.

Like that… yes…

At twenty-four, you are a catch. Beautiful, stunning, drop dead gorgeous but Chan never really paid attention to you like that. Why would he? Your older brother is his best friend and there is nothing that could come between them, their bond is unbreakable, and you? You’ve always been the rosy-cheeked little sister with your hair in pigtails, missing a front tooth, chasing after the teenage boys to be included. At twenty-four, you are a woman who has men chasing after her but there’ll always be one man who’ll take the podium alone.

Chan.

You tell yourself you never stood a chance because he’s known you since you were a kid, the seven year difference between the two of you being as much of a deterrent as the lisp you had when you lost your other front tooth. You tell yourself that Chan has never seen you as a woman and that the right thing to do when hearing the faint wet sound coming from his room is to turn around and walk in the opposite direction. You tell yourself that you don’t want to know, that it’s wrong listening to him without his knowledge…

…hss… ngh… good girl…

His door is open. Too open to be an accident. It’s not like he’s rushed into his room and slammed the door but it didn’t catch… It’s… open enough that from across the hall, you can see the foot of his bed, his shirt thrown carelessly onto the computer chair you can see half of– God, you need to walk away.

Yes. Smart.

You let go of the door handle and turn to leave, only to find your feet fighting against the logic being communicated from above. Keeping out of view, you stand with your back against the wall beside his door and clench your eyes shut as if it’ll either hide you from anyone coming up the stairs or keep you from listening to the filthy sounds coming from his room.

Catching Chan in the act was an accident but this? This is you playing with fire.

Chan had come back from the gym, having gone straight there after work and while he knew that you were going to be over, visiting while on holiday for university, he didn’t know that within the last few years of barely seeing you – you would have become an attractive young woman. It hit him like a freight train and while he felt like he was betraying your brother for lusting over you in his mind, part of him certainly liked the way those sinful thoughts were playing out.

You’re his best friend’s little sister. When you were thirteen, he had you drool all over his shoulder when coming back from the beach, he remembers doing your hair before the school play where you were playing the female lead, and he remembers sitting with you in the kitchen as you devoured three chocolate oreo ice cream sandwiches when you had your heartbroken for the first time. Chan knows as much about you as your brother does because he watched you grow up.

He should not be acting like this. He’s better than this, or so he likes to think he is.

It didn’t help that you were helping your brother clean his car, a water fight ensuing when Chan closed his car door and greeted you two only to see that your shirt was soaked. You looked so cute, blushing slightly and smiling up at him as you folded your arms over your chest to hide your breasts from his eyes that had made their way down. “Hey, it’s been a while.” He says, gaining composure after licking his lips and looking back into your shining eyes. You throw yourself at him and Chan chuckles as you wrap your arms around his neck, your chest pressed against his as you wet his shirt. His hands land on your back to give you a small squeeze. “Careful now, petal, Jax might think that you’ve missed me more than him.”

Pulling away, he doesn’t miss the colour in your cheeks darkening as your brother clears his throat and Chan chuckles as he lets you step out of his reach. Fuck, you felt so nice in his arms. Your body has grown into that of a woman with soft curves in all the right places and it’s only because Chan isn’t the type to push anything unless he knows he’s not mistaking the signals that he let you go. “If you want, we can clean your car, too?” You smile up at him and Chan hums softly in thought before returning the warmth in his own smile.

“Sure,” he passes you the keys, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue but he’s smart. Smart enough not to risk a right hook from Jackson. “I’m heading in to shower.” A simple lie falling off his soft lips – Chan showered at the gym. He needs to stop looking at the shirt clinging to your body and teasing him with thoughts of you. Escape seems to be the only way to keep his sanity. “We can catch up afterward, hm?”

He can’t get into his room fast enough, the door left open in his haste as he pulls his damp white shirt off and throws it in a random direction. He wants to erase the image of you from his mind as he runs fingers through his slightly messy black locks, trying to keep the image of you pure, sweet, innocent – failing miserably in doing so.

Where the fuck did this come from?

He’s always known, Chan thinks about it, he’s always known that you’ve had a crush on him because he saw how you’d behave when you started going through puberty and avoided being near him for the longest time. A girl who was always so happy to give her big brother and his best friend a hug, who would hold Chan’s hand whenever you crossed the road, and who would squeal with joy when he’d give you piggyback rides. You never shied away from his affections until you were fifteen and couldn’t look him in the eye.

He figured it out quickly but never once did he mention it because he didn’t see you like that. Sweet, innocent petal who shines as bright as the sun. That’s what you’ve always been to him and he thought that he’d always think about you that way until…

Were you even wearing a bra? The way your nipples pebbled against your shirt… “Fuck.” He groans, collapsing onto his bed and closing his eyes while taking deep breaths as if it’ll erase the sinful thoughts plaguing his mind.

He can hear the laughter coming through his open window and Chan knows that the only way that he’s going to be able to survive spending the rest of the evening with you is to get off before facing you again. He’s lying to himself, praying that he can believe it as he closes his window curtains and sets the mood to help get through this easier. Chan’s not one for masturbation, he’s not opposed to it either but he’s always preferred mutual satisfaction over solo pleasure, however, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Like fucking his hand while thinking about taking you on the hood of his car.

Ambient music plays, the hexagon LED lights set to a sensual red as he lays his head on the pillow with his eyes closed. His large, calloused hands run over his body, gliding along the dips and rises of his abdomen slowly before moving back up; he’s painting a picture in his mind, a fantasy that he usually wouldn’t play with considering he’s not one to be touched during sex but wouldn’t you be curious? Wanting to map out his body with the same need that he’d have to learn yours, watching to know where to touch, what pressure to apply, and committing every inch to memory. 

To know it like it’s his own.

Mm… mmm…

He’s working himself up, fantasising about everything his mind can play as his heart races and his body temperature rises. The way you’d feel beneath him, how wet you’d be as he plunged his fingers deep into your core so that you were well and truly worked up. “Ah… fuck,” Chan bites his lip as he palms his erection, the hardness evident in his grey sweats and he looks down at how much of an effect you have on him in such a short amount of time. His imagination goes wild; his large hand being replaced by your smaller one as it rubs slowly over his clothed cock and the ache that comes with wanting to stroke himself grows with the fire in his abdomen. “Like that… yes…”

Chan has been one for delayed gratification. More so his partner than himself but it’s not unusual for him to drag it out… especially when his prize is on the other side of the door.

“Hss… ngh… good girl.” He breathes out as he grips the throbbing member wanting to be released. His hand pauses for a moment, so close to reaching inside and releasing himself as he opens his eyes and hears movement on the other side of the door. A smirk plays on his bitten lips as he realises you’ve caught him and tried to hide. He doesn’t know when you had made your way upstairs but it seems that your timing couldn’t have been better because Chan is only just getting started and nothing fuels the man more than knowing the effect he has on someone else.

If there’s no indication that you’ve tried to run away then he knows you’re caught up in him as much as he is caught up in you.

Moving slightly so that he can release his thick cock, the member slapping against his abdomen now that it’s not restrained, Chan reaches beside him and grabs the lubricant next to his bed. Usually, he’d use some proper lube but it’s been a while since he’s masturbated alone and a man has to use the resources around him.

Unless… fuck, his cock throbs at the thought of being buried deep inside you.

Using just enough to allow for a smooth glide, Chan wraps his hand around his cock and begins to stroke, groaning at the feeling and knowing that you’re listening. Are you wet? He wonders, thinking about you standing there in the hallway rubbing your thighs together. How long would you last before you’d need to feel some friction in between your legs, feel some stimulation against your engorged clit while having your nipples pinched and pulled?

How long until you’re begging him to fuck you?

You can hear the lewd sounds coming from his room and from the way he’s moaning, you know that those wet noises are his hand stroking his cock. You don’t know what to do. You do know what to do actually, it’s simply that you aren’t moving.

Escape. Rush back downstairs and tell Jax that you’ll get changed later for any reason that you can think of that doesn’t involve mentioning Chan masturbating.

Except you stay pinned to the wall.

Listening.

Biting your lip.

Imagining the sight.

“Just like that, baby,” You listen to the way Chan speaks, the deepness in his usually dulcet tones stoking the fire that’s building inside you. Clenching your fists, you close your eyes as you’re trying to will yourself away from the wall but all that happens is you moving towards the door and peeking around into his room.

Your eyes widen at the sight before you. You had already figured out that you’ll be unable to look Chan in the eyes again, but this is the moment that it finally sinks in that you will never be the same again. How could you be normal after this? How will you even be able to think about anyone else again when this is all that’ll be in your dreams?

Trying to avoid looking directly at his cock, your eyes move to his face, contorted in pleasure as Chan’s brow furrows and he bites down on his soft lips. Oh, how you’ve thought about the way they would feel against yours, the closest thing you’ve ever come to feeling his lips against you is when he’s kissed your forehead. It’s always been difficult not to wonder how they would feel trailing down the curve of your neck, the way his tongue would trace along your jugular as his hands ghost over your chest, not quite touching but teasing enough that…

A soft whimper leaves your lips as you clench your thighs together because now your gaze is wandering from those bitten clouds of lust down to his chest, body showing off that he does work out and take good care of himself and along his arms. You can see the shadows of his veins, something you’ve always noticed about him, the way his veins are always prominent in his arms and hands. You know exactly how his hands feel from the times you’ve played with his hands, trying to steal the bracelets that adorn his wrists only to have him wrap those large hands around your wrists.

Hands that are now wrapped around…

“Oh my–” 

You didn’t mean for it to come out so loud, you didn’t mean to bring attention to yourself but how were you meant to keep your reaction subtle, quiet, when Chan’s thumb was circling the tip of his cock and you imagined it being your tongue instead? How were you meant to keep yourself from nearly falling through his door when Chan let out the deepest grunt as he rolled his hips like that as he fucked his hand and made you want to be riding him?

Simply put, how are you meant to remain sane when in this moment, you’ve lost all sense of rationality?

There’s no denying that Chan caught you, that you brought attention to yourself and his eyes are on you, burning with an intoxicating mix of sex, lust, and sin. He holds your gaze, not letting go of his throbbing cock as he moves so that he’s now stroking himself while he plants his feet on the ground and sits on his bed to give you a full view. Abdomen tensed, free hand placed behind him so he can lean back as he rolled his hips.

“So pretty,” he says, barely loud enough for you to hear it but the world has faded enough so there’s nothing else that could steal this away from him. “How about you come here, princess?” You take a cautious step into his room, and then another, and that’s when your fate was sealed.

There’s no turning back now…

“Yo!” You hear Jax call your name and you freeze. Chan pauses, eyes on yours to keep you glued to your spot. “Have you changed yet?”

It’s not wise, Chan knows this, it’s not wise to tempt both of you into the abyss that’ll consume you the moment you succumb to it but what is he meant to do? You look too tempting for him to pass up a chance even if it means being caught. It's a risk that logically he wouldn’t make if it was anyone else, but if he’s always thought you deserved the world, why not make you feel on top of it?

“So pretty,” his lips pull up at the corner as he takes you in. Your shirt is damp, see through and he’s sure that you’re cold and needing to change from the goosebumps erupting over your skin but it could be whatever is charging the air between you. He sees the way your tongue peeks out and wets your lips before slowly being dragged back inside and without saying the words, Chan knows you’re thinking about wrapping your lips around his cock.

Fuck, maybe next time.

“How about you come here, princess?” He uses his free hand, the hand that propped him up, to reach out and encourage you closer. It shouldn’t be making his cock twitch with the way you’re so obedient, so caught up in the moment that you aren’t thinking about anything else other than him – until the moment is hit with a cold shower called reality.

Jackson.

Chan watches the conflict in your eyes as you think about the consequences of this and while that should be his thought as well – he’s not letting you get away. He’s quick, pants pulled back over his cock as he makes his way to you, pinning you against the wall. “Where are you going, princess?” Chan looks down at you, his messy hand wrapped around your waist while his other tilts your chin up so that you can see the desire in his eyes. “Do you not like what you see, hm?”

You stutter, “n-no, it’s just…” wow, you’re adorable, he thinks to himself. As you shake your head and try to figure out the reason why this could be a bad idea, Chan pushes his knee in between your legs, and almost as if your body is already under his control, you grind against him. “What if…”

“Good girl,” Chan whispers, lips so close to yours as you try to say coherent thoughts while grinding on his thigh. “Give it a minute, hm?” You nod and Chan doesn’t know whether you’re agreeing because he’s right and Jackson will leave, whether you trust that he wouldn’t lead you into trouble, or whether you’re just as horny as he is and don’t want to ruin the moment.

Whatever the reason, whatever it is that keeps your back against the wall, grinding and making him want to take you right now, he’s thankful for it. It doesn’t take long for the front door to close, and your brother decides to carry on without you. Chan looks proudly at your flushed cheeks as you try and reach that high you desperately want. “That’s a good girl~.” He praises and watches the way it affects you, “now, I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

You moan, biting your lip, “mm, yes.”

Chan tilts his head victoriously, a glint in his eyes, “Yes what?”

“Yes, please.”

here i come | jjk. (m)

➵ summary :  tipsy hide-and-seek turns into more when you and jeon jungkook choose the same closet to hide in.

➵ pairing : jungkook x reader

➵ genre :  college!au, smut, pwp

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 3k

➵ warnings : sexual content, teasing, swearing, mentions of alcohol, tipsy but both parties are able to consent, dirty talk, breast fondling, fingering, bigdick!jungkook cause wbk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lovelies) mentions of oral, slight name kink, begging, creampie

➵ a/n: i’ve always wanted to try this idea with jungkook and i finally have!! he just seems so perfect for this scenario. as always, your comments and feedback are appreciated! enjoy :)

↳ *read the second part!*

“32!..31!..30!..”

Dammit, you had 30 seconds left and had just made it to the second floor, cheeks flushed from running around and the slight buzz of alcohol making your insides giddy.

Rushing towards the first room that came into sight, you barge in panicked as Taehyung reaches 25 seconds.

Keep reading

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