After The Applause (Ch. 4)

After the Applause (Ch. 4)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment

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Hanbyul sulked on the foot of her bed, feet underneath her pillow and a blanket cocooned around her body as she clicked through suggestions on her dating app. She narrowed her eyes unhappily at each of the three profiles the app recommended for her today. She didn’t like any of them. Well, she might have liked them at another time, she wasn’t really giving them a fair shake, but right now she had really just hoped that looking through them would cause Namjoon’s ears to burn and he’d finally respond to her last message.

Well actually, her last four messages…

She groaned and buried her face in the crook of her arm. Her sister had already poured salt on her wound of humiliation at having sent Namjoon four messages without any response. It was mortifying. She felt like an idiot, only overshadowed by the misery of oh my god he’s ghosting me he’s done with me. Their last date, date number three, had gone really well, she thought! But that was a week ago and there’d been no response since. 

Holding her phone had the added benefit of ensuring she would see the second he messaged if he did. Not that she was hoping he would, obviously! This was the 21st century and a girl did not let a guy just disappear on her and then forgive it when he suddenly messaged her again! Unless there was a good reason. Maybe he had a good reason. Maybe he was in the hospital, or his mom was, and then she would totally forgive him. She was a very understanding person!

But what if he was playing hard to get? She hated that it might be working, even if she didn’t want to admit it. She’d liked him on their dates but would not have expected to feel his silence so loudly until confronted with it. Was this what they meant about absence making the heart grow fonder? Was the injustice of him ignoring her actually making her feel more strongly about their connection, one he could so easily and carelessly sever?

In the meantime as she did-but-didn’t wait for him to message her back, Hanbyul perused the dating apps again in an effort to reassure herself that even if Namjoon was tired of her, there were more frogs in the pond. She preferred that phrasing to there are more fish in the sea since, like her neighbor, she had an aversion to seafood. 

It wasn’t weird to know that about your neighbor, right? She cooked for them sometimes! Not that she went out of her way to cater to his preferences but if she just happened to be making something she thought he’d like, she would share it, and it was convenient that their opinions on seafood aligned. 

She sighed at her own lack of interest in the app’s recommendations and decided to plunge into a free-browse. The concept of finding someone to date based on a few photos and answers to mundane questions seemed impossible, but she supposed that’s how it always started. If you really got to know people first, that would limit her dating pool to…

Well, to a very small rain puddle.

Speaking of very small worlds, her eyebrows raised in surprise when a person familiar in name only showed at the top of her browsing when sorting by distance: Jeon Jungkook. 

Curiosity got the better of her and she opened his profile. Just to put a face to the name! Now she recognized him as a person she had seen entering or leaving the building opposite her a few times. His photos were mostly selfies, either at the gym or with dogs, except for one of him with Taehyung, Jimin, and another man who seemed vaguely familiar.  

She’d just started to read his profile –out of curiosity, nothing else!-- when a new message alert popped onto her screen.

[Jeon Jungkook]: hey

[Jeon Jungkook]: neighbor Ko Hanbyul!

Hanbyul let out a startled gasp and dropped her phone and looked around, expecting he could somehow see her right now. Did the app know when you were on someone’s profile page?! She’d certainly never gotten any alerts that someone was checking her out. Oh god did that mean no one ever checked her out?!

[Ko Hanbyul]: Hello family friend Jeon Jungkook

[Jeon Jungkook]: youve heard of me 😎 

[Jeon Jungkook]: how are you doing this cold night? Winter or spring right now what is it

Hanbyul sat up and leaned against the wall. It felt weird to be talking to Jimin’s friend. Very weird. And he seemed so immediately comfortable with her, which she didn’t understand considering they’d never even met in person. He must be a naturally charming person. She envied that about him. Were all of Jimin’s friends charming just like he was? God, she really could never belong there. Would Jimin think she was trying to force her way in if he knew she was talking to Jungkook?! 

But they were just talking! It wasn’t like they were going on a date. She wasn’t going to go on a date with one of Jimin’s closest friends! It felt rude not to answer him though when he was being friendly, and he was a friend of a friend. Friend of a neighbor.

[Ko Hanbyul]: it’s early spring and I like the cold. You?

[Jeon Jungkook]: yeah I like winter best but I dont think this is spring there are more than four seasons

[Jeon Jungkook]: our schools lie to make it easy to learn but dont you think there are more seasons in a year? 

Hanbyul’s mouth twisted into a grin. Ok, he was an interesting guy. 

[Ko Hanbyul]: what are the other seasons?

[Jeon Jungkook]: hm

[Jeon Jungkook]: rainy season, allergy season, mosquito season, sweatshirt season, the busy season

[Ko Hanbyul]: busy season for what?

[Jeon Jungkook]: everyone has a busy season everyone always says that

[Jeon Jungkook]: right? Its our busy season. 

[Jeon Jungkook]: unless your Jiminie

[Jeon Jungkook]: then busy season is every month before a show right? Kekeke

The mention of Jimin flustered Hanbyul, gave her that twinge like she was betraying Jimin somehow because probably Jungkook was flirting with her. That’s why he’d messaged, right? Was she flirting back? She genuinely didn’t know. He was awfully handsome, maybe it was too much to think he was flirting with her.

But at the same time, Jimin wasn’t interested in her at all, so what was she being faithful to? A crush? And anyway, it was just a conversation!

[Ko Hanbyul]: when is your busy season?

There, impeccable flirting. Smooth as dirt.

[Jeon Jungkook]: nah not me i do screenprinting i work for a clothing company so its always busy

[Ko Hanbyul]: oh! That’s interesting!

[Jeon Jungkook]: its not but ok kekeke thanks 😉

[Jeon Jungkook]: do you have a favorite t shirt? 

It was such an off-the-wall question, though she supposed relevant to his career. Conversation with him flowed easily like that, bouncing from one topic to another. Sometimes he’d go quiet for a bit but then he’d be back with some other new topic just as Hanbyul started to set the phone down. Almost an hour passed in this way before he surprised her further.

[Jeon Jungkook]: yeah, you seem cool

[Ko Hanbyul]: Thank you, you too! Jimin was right to say that about you

The second she sent it, she cringed. Referring to Jimin so familiarly! And after talking to his friend on a dating app for an hour! It was a faux pas in every direction and all she could do was cover her face as Jungkook responded.

[Jeon Jungkook]: he said good things about me huh? Tell me every single one

But Hanbyu was cringing too hard, and worried now that this might be leading to Jungkook asking her out. Did she want to go on a date with Jungkook?! Ah, maybe he was only being polite because she was the neighbor of his friend but their conversation had seemed pretty flirty! He was charming and handsome. He wasn’t Jimin, but Jimin didn’t want her and Namjoon didn’t want her so maybe…. But what if she just was always longing for Jimin? That would be a terrible thing to do to Jungkook!

[Ko Hanbyul]: Sounds like you and Park Jimin need a heart to heart

[Jeon Jungkook]: after this convo i think your right

What did that mean?! Hanbyul tried to think of something to say back, but Hudu was at the front door, jingling the bells that he wanted to go out. 

“Use the potty mat!” she called, but Hudu hated the potty mat and honestly she hated it too. Plus she could use some air. There was nothing for it but to slip her phone in her pocket, bundle her and the pup up, and head out.

They weren’t alone in the hall though. At almost the same time she opened her door, the Park door opened down the hall, and out stepped the very man she was messaging, Sun-young bundled up beside him.

For a moment they just froze and looked at each other with surprise, until Sun-young shouted a greeting and Hudu started to do a dance that had Hanbyul worried he was going to pee in the hallway with excitement at seeing Sun-young.

“I’m taking my dog out,” she explained, no other greeting preceding it as she started quickly down the hall.

Jungkook snickered and motioned, “Yeah, me too. I mean, my niece.”

“What? I’m not a dog! And I don’t need to pee outside,” Sun-young said with a dramatic eyeroll. “Hi, unnie. We’re going to get churros.”

“Oooh.”

She pushed the elevator button and bit back the endeared smile. Churros. That was pretty cute.

“So you’re…” She stopped herself before saying babysitting, knowing Sun-young would hate that.

“Yeah, uh, I’m hanging out with Sunbun tonight.”

“We’re watching Sailor Moon from the very beginning,” Sun-young told her. “Do you like that show? Did you have it when you were a little girl or are you too old?”

“Hey! I’m not that old,” Hanbyul cried and playfully scowled at her. 

“I know, you’re younger than Appa.”

“She’s my age,” Jungkook answered and for a moment Hanbyul forgot it said her birth year on her profile. She hadn’t remembered his year, although she did remember he was born in September. “So, did you watch Sailor Moon growing up?”

“Yes…” Hanbyul answered. They all stepped into the open elevator together and Hudu sniffed around Jungkook’s feet as Sun-young stooped to scratch his head.

Jungkook grinned and demanded, “Why are you answering like it’s a trap?”

“Oh, I didn’t admit it before, but one of my favorite t-shirts when I was younger was a Sailor Moon shirt, actually.” It was the truth, but it made him laugh so hard she thought he must not believe her. She laughed too because he had a very infectious laugh.  

“Do you still have it?”

“It would be too small now!”

“Eh, small shirts can look good,” he shrugged. She didn’t miss the way he cocked his head or pressed his tongue between his lips. Did he mean in general, or on her specifically?! That had to be flirting…

Sun-young suddenly stood up in between them, her eyes narrowed and sliding back and forth from Hanbyul to Jungkook in such a suspicious way that Hanbyul took a step closer to the wall. She felt caught, like she’d truly been doing something wrong and now Sun-young was witnessing it. She braced herself for whatever was going to come out of the girl’s mouth as she put her hands on her hips.

“Hey. Do you know each other? I thought you said you didn’t know who Uncle Tae and Uncle Jungkook are…”

“Yeah, we know each other,” Jungkook answered first, in a way that sounded so much guiltier. The way he said it sounded like it meant way more than we just started talking on a dating app an hour ago. Oh god and they’d been talking the whole hour… but it was just friendly! Platonic! Right?!

Sun-young turned to Jungkook and demanded, “Aren’t you dating that lady at the cafe?!”

The elevator doors opened and Hanbyul leapt out, but Hudu suddenly wanted to take his time and stick by Sun-young’s side. Even pulled on the leash to stay put!

Jungkook’s laugh echoed around the apartment lobby as he insisted, “What do you know about that? I’m not dating her. I mean, I went on a date with her but… ah, you’ll understand when you’re older.”

“You never say that to me,” Sun-young frowned.

“Sorry but this one time I’m going to say it. I don’t have to tell you every woman I talk to or date!”

“But now you’re dating…” Sun-young turned her narrowed eyes towards Hanbyul, whose face could not have felt more on fire. This was as bad as when Sun-young asked her why she didn’t just date Jimin. No, worse, because there was a witness to the mortification!  

“A man and a woman can talk,” Jungkook insisted. “It doesn’t mean they’re dating.”

“And they can date… but it doesn’t mean they’re dating either?” Sun-young tried to puzzle out. 

“No no, there’s a difference between talking and going on a date and dating and… hey, why don’t you talk to your dad about this kind of thing?”

“About if you’re dating unnie?”

“Aish,” Jungkook hissed through his teeth and gave Hanbyul a charming, amused grin. “You run, I’m going to distract her with churros. Can’t ask questions if your mouth is full of churro!”

Hanbyul desperately wanted to know what was going to be explained here but also desperately didn’t want any part of it. They were just talking! It felt like a betrayal of Jimin and yet what was there to betray? Jimin didn’t want her! Besides, Jungkook had just said they were just talking…. But he’d said it to a nine-year-old, maybe he was just being vague… Or maybe he didn’t want to date, there were other things a man and woman could do. Like talking sure, or… Jungkook was a handsome man! No Jimin, but then, who was? Maybe he wasn’t the sort to date, just to sleep around. Hanbyul had never really done the sleeping around thing but she could really use some sex. Sex would be a positive addition to her life. She couldn’t find her vibrator lately; maybe it was under the bed but she was scared to look and hadn’t bought a new one yet…

Sun-young’s little face turned up and Hanbyul just barely heard her say, “I don’t think you should talk to Unnie so much.”

Oh geez, what was Jungkook going to say to that?! But Hudu chose that moment to give in to her tug towards the door; he took off as if he suddenly remembered his bladder, and she sure didn’t want to clean up a puddle in the lobby, so off they ran. And so she would never know what else Jungkook said.

She was too embarrassed to say anything to Jungkook on the messenger app for the rest of the night. Embarrassed and unsure what to say if Jungkook did ask her out on a date or invite her over for sex. Although she did check later that night, just to make sure he hadn’t messaged her either…

Wha, what was she thinking?! Men did not just invite Hanbyul over for sex! Definitely not men like Jungkook, or Jimin, or Taehyung for that matter… Or Namjoon…

“Hudu, we’re going to die alone together, I hope that’s ok with you,” she sighed, and decided to take the long way around the park. 

The seats were pretty high up but the best he’d been able to afford. Still more than he had planned to spend right now, nowhere close to Sunnie’s birthday, but when he’d heard from Hoseok, who’d heard from this dancer who knew that dancer who was one of the principals, that Mango Crush was about to announce an unexpected concert for reasons Jimin didn’t remember or care about, he’d already decided to by the tickets before Sun-young even came running from school screaming about it. He’d been prepared for her cries of disbelief when he’d agreed that yes, they could go. He’d been prepared for her surprise when he rattled off the exact time they would go on sale that night and showed her his alarm so he wouldn’t miss it.

He had not been prepared for her to beg, “Can Hanbyul-unnie go with us? Please?!”

He’d tried to keep his face neutral at the instant hurt. Of course his daughter would rather go see a girl-group with a female friend. Hanbyul was a fan, she knew the lyrics and everything. Part of loving his daughter was letting her grow and replace him and he wasn’t going to cry about it until he was alone in his room later maybe.

“Oh, you’d rather go with Hanbyul?” he’d asked carefully to give himself a moment to think.

“Yes, all three of us!”

He’d been so relieved that Sun-young still wanted him along that he’d bought three tickets without further argument, without even talking to Hanbyul about it first. Then he’d worried about how awkward it would be to ask his neighbor if she’d like to go to a kpop concert with him and his daughter, but Sun-young had run ahead and by the time he’d joined them at Hanbyul’s door, she’d already graciously accepted the invitation. She begged Jimin to let him pay for her own ticket, which he had refused, because for a moment he felt so cool in front of his daughter.

“I know the seats aren’t very good,” Jimin apologized to Hanbyul over Sun-young’s head as she searched for the power button on the flashy Mango stick. Hanbyul had brought one for each of them

Hanbyul actually laughed, “They’re fine! Haven’t you been to a concert recently? The music reaches you anywhere and we can see the stage straight ahead. You did great!”

Jimin flushed at the unexpected praise, then chalked her kind words up to excitement. He had half expected Hanbyul only came along to be a good sport for Sun-young, which in and of itself would have meant so much to him. But she leaned in close to show Sun-young where the switch was, and turned her own on, and the two of them shouted and cheered as they waved them in the air along with everyone else. But he didn’t think either that she’d only come for personal enjoyment of the concert, either, because every step of the way so far, her attention had been focused so joyfully and sincerely on Sun-young. It was like she really wanted to be here with them. It made JImin feel really good about all this.  

“It’s my first concert ever!” Sun-young squealed.

“What?! Then I’m even more glad I brought the Mango Sticks!” Hanbyul cheered. “I’ll buy you a t-shirt too, ok? I still have the t-shirt from my first concert! I was about your age too. My friend’s mom took us.”

“Who was it?” Jimin immediately demanded. He knew so little about Hanbyul’s childhood, or her private life, or really anything at all. What kind of girl had she been? He found himself wanting to know.

“Baby V.O.X.”

“Ah, I know them!”

“Personally?!”

“No no, I know of them, I remember them,” he admitted. “I thought you would name some super secret cool band I’ve never heard of, but they were popular.”

Hanbyul gave him an indecipherable look and laughed, “Do I seem like I’m into anything secret and cool? I like popular things just like anyone else.”

“Well I don’t know many famous people,” he shared his own confession.

“I think of you as knowing everyone.”

“No no, why would I know famous people?” He thought it was ridiculous. Yes, he knew some famous dancers, but Hanbyul wouldn’t know who any of those people were. “Well, I’ve done choreography for some idol groups but not the big ones, they tend to have their own choreographers.”

“That’s really cool though! We should go to a concert for one of those groups,” she suggested, eyes sparkling.

“I don’t know them well enough to get tickets!”

“It’s ok, I’ll buy the tickets next time.”

“Yay, more concerts!” Sun-young cheered, then grabbed Jimin’s arm as the lights flickered. “IT’S STARTING!”

Jimin took her hand and she didn’t even pull it away, just raised his hand and her Mango Stick in the other to join the shouts as Mango Crush took the stage.

“Can you name them yet?” Hanbyul asked, leaning close and repeating it when Jimin couldn’t hear. She had to get close to his ear, her warm breath tickling the side of his neck.

“Yes,” he scoffed and rattled them off because obviously he had done some quick studying so he wouldn’t sound like a total idiot to Sun-young. Hanbyul stared at his lips, as if really closely testing his accuracy.

“Now which is which?” she shouted, gesturing towards the stage where little ants in sparkly costumes danced around. The massive screens behind the stage showed them closer and it was Eujin… or maybe Hana… Adda? No, that one was Violet…

Ok, they weren’t that far away, the venue wasn’t that big for such a quickly pulled together concert. He could easily see all nine of them. But still. Their hair colors were all different than the pictures he’d seen so he was toast.

“Shit, she changed her hair,” he said, overly loud, and Hanbyul laughed. It was the music that made Jimin smile so big. Live music was infectious! Even if you were a little tired of the songs because you’d been listening to them nonstop for the past week to try and learn the lyrics before the concert with your daughter.

Hanbyul’s attention shifted to Sun-young as Jimin’s daughter dropped his hand to take hers, and they sang the words together, loud and adorably off-key but swallowed in the mass of voices around the venue. He couldn't remember the lyrics at all in the moment.

It was the third song before they performed one Jimin knew well enough to shout along to. Sun-young’s eyes got so big and she laughed with her whole body and grabbed his hand again and waved her Mango Stick thing and Jimin knew every minute of listening to their music and every won spent on the tickets had been worth it. 

He shared a smile with Hanbyul over Sun-young’s head, and then Hanbyul covered her face shyly. He worried she thought he was laughing at how much she enjoyed the concert but no, it made him very happy that she did! He didn’t see how to explain that in a shout over the noise though so he just turned back to the music and only watched her out of the corner of his eye as she and Sun-young sang their hearts out.

We’ve only got one life  So let’s live it loud  Take up the space we were meant for Hands up, sing it proud: This world is ours!

*********

The show ended later than Jimin had expected, but Sun-young complained about being hungry on the way home so they stopped at Yoongi’s noodle place because it was open, close to home, and cheap. He insisted on paying for Hanbyul’s noodles too, after she had insisted on buying so much merch for Sun-young. All the rules were out the window tonight, so he might as well let Sun-young sit up until midnight to eat noodles in her Mango Crush shirt with her Mango Crush headband.

The shop was mostly empty this time fo night, so once their food was ready, Yoongi came to visit. Sun-young was so excited telling him about the show that her noodles got cold; no matter how many times Jimin encouraged her to eat, she could barely get a bite in before she needed to tell Yoongi something, or ask Hanbyul if she remembered this, or insist Jimin tell him her favorite outfit or whatever. 

Only after she finally stopped to catch her breath did Yoongi say, “Nice to meet you, by the way. I think you’re Ko Hanbyul?”

With a gasp, Jimin realized he’d missed the introduction and apologized, “Yes, yes, Ko Hanbyul, and this is my friend Min Yoongi. I forgot you haven’t met my friends.”

“I’m meeting them more lately, it seems,” she said, which felt cryptic somehow. Did she just mean because she’d spent that afternoon over with Taehyung and now met Yoongi? That didn’t seem remarkable… “It’s nice to meet you,” she continued on. “And great to meet the owner of this place, I get noodles here all the time.”

“Thank you for keeping us in business.”

Yoongi seemed to be pointedly ignoring Jimin’s look because why had Yoongi said her name first?! Why hadn’t he just asked who she was? He realized now it would make it seem like he had talked about her, which he had but not in a nefarious way!

“Yoongi and I go way back,” Jimin explained to keep Hanbyul from feeling uncomfortable. “I helped him meet his wife! She’s an incredibly talented ballet dancer–”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I hosted the party where you met.”

“So when you come here on a date, I’ll take the credit?”

Jimin flinched. It wasn’t all right to make that kind of a joke in front of Sun-young –or Hanbyul for that matter!

Trying to salvage it, he insisted, “Why would I bring someone here on a date? You think I can’t take someone somewhere nicer?”

“Well now you’re just insulting me,” Yoongi laughed. “What’s wrong with here for a date?”

“I think it’s nice here,” Hanbyul readily agreed. And now Jimin felt like an asshole.

“I just meant for a first date, you take someone to a really nice place! This is where I bring someone when– no, why are we talking about this?” he broke off, realizing this was a completely inappropriate conversation to have in front of his daughter. He broke out into a cold sweat and insisted, “I’m not dating anyone, Sunnie, don’t worry.”

“We already knew unnie before we brought her here,” Sun-young informed Yoongi. 

“Oh, is this a date?” Yoongi asked, with a particular sparkle lighting up in his eyes that made Jimin want to strangle him in cold blood.

“No,” “No,” Jimin and Hanbyul said at the same time Sun-young said, “Yes.”

“What do you think a date is?” Jimin asked, realizing there must be a misunderstanding here. 

“I know what a date is,” she smiled and instead of saying anything further, asked, “Appa, what was your first concert?”

Yoongi snickered at the way Jimin flustered and reeled, trying to catch up, not sure what to correct or explain. He glanced at Hanbyul in the hopes she would say something elegant but she just shoved a mouthful of noodles in, and then caught his eye and it was obvious she didn’t want to answer. He wasn’t sure which of them started laughing first but when she choked on her noodles he reached out to pound on her back.

“I’ll leave you to it. Mochi is on me when you’re done,” Yoongi offered and disappeared like a disruptive shadow.

Sunnie was waiting for an answer though, like she couldn’t even hear her dad and neighbor laughing, and repeated, “Who was your first concert, Appa? How old were you?”

“Uh… ok, you’re all right now? Hm, I think it was Super Junior. I was older… fifteen? Sixteen? I saw dance troops before that but I think that was my first concert.”

“Oh! Is that why the blonde hair?” Hanbyul asked. Then grimaced and explained, “I mean… they had blonde hair, didn’t they?”

“Are you asking if I dye my hair to look like a member of a k-pop group I saw twenty years ago?”

“Um…” Hanbyul’s eyes look very wide.

“No!” he laughed. “This is my natural color!”

“He’s lying! He dyes it every six weeks but he won’t let me dye my hair,” Sun-young tattled, as if Hanbyul might not know he was in fact not a natural blonde. 

“Your hair is perfect, I don’t want you to bake it.”

“What color do you want it to be?” Hanbyul asked her.

“Hm… white.”

“White!” Jimin repeated.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Not all white. Some black and some white.”

“Like a zebra?” Jimin screwed his face up.

“It’s cool, Appa.”

“I’m out of style on what’s cool,” he confessed to Hanbyul. As soon as he said it, he knew it would annoy Sun-young. “I just decide what I want to do for my style and do it.”

“That’s cool too,” Hanbyul assured him. 

Sun-young beamed, “When I get older I’ll dye my hair, ok?”

“Ok, maybe,” he conceded. “I just don’t want you to burn it and then it all falls out.”

“Your hair isn’t falling out.”

“Eh…” he grimaced.

“I think it’s ok if we’re bald together,” Sun-young decided. “If we at least had fun getting there.” Jimin’s heart thumped and he didn’t know what to say. Was he a sap that hearing his daughter say that melted him into silence in an instant?

“That’s quite profound,” Hanbyul said with a warm smile that made him feel like she understood too. She didn’t think he was a sap for being affected by that.

“What does profound mean?”

“Very wise. But if you want white stripes, maybe you can do tie-ins first and it won’t damage your hair?”

Sun-young grinned, “I think you are very profound too, unnie. Right, Appa?”

“Sure, sure. Except when she’s accusing me of trying to look like an idol from twenty years ago…”

“Is that bad?” Hanbyul asked and looked sincerely concerned.

He tried to look upset but couldn’t maintain it for long and admitted, “No, actually I think it’s flattering… but I don’t think I can admit my style is twenty years out of date!”

“No, you have a really good style! Contemporary!”

“It’s ok,” Sun-young conceded. Jimin couldn’t thank her, he laughed so hard at her slight compliment. She must have meant it to be funny though because she giggled too, and Hanbyul laughed and–

And it was just very easy. It was just a very easy, good night, one of the best ones Jimin could remember having in a fucking long time. He didn’t know what to do with that, how much joy he felt just sitting in a noodle shop late at night with his daughter and his neighbor. Was it just post-concert fumes? But he thought it was more than that, and he didn’t know how to hold onto that feeling, but he wanted to.

The feel-good glow of the concert lasted less than a week. Tuesday Sun-young complained of a headache to get out of solo practice with Hoseok but then didn’t have too much of a headache to sneak the house phone into her room to call Ginam. Wednesday Sun-young had a poor attitude at her ballet class; Jimin could see it in the way Young-geul carefully chose her words in describing Sunnie’s progress in the ensemble choreography for the recital. Jimin expected she’d perk up for hip hop rehearsal on Thursday, seeing as she’d begged so hard for that class in the first place.

Instead he had to go into the school again to fetch her when she didn’t come out. At least she wasn’t off in a hidden science room melting lab tables or anything; he found her walking at an actual glacier’s pace through the school hallway. As slowly and meticulously placing one foot in front of the other as if this were a choreographed routine –except it wasn’t. She had a class to get to!

“What are you doing!?” he cried. “Let’s go!”

“I am going.”

“Like a snail,” he scolded and reached for her arm. She pulled away and gave him a scathing glare. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s your hiphop class!”

“I know.”

“So let’s go, we don’t want to be late.”

“I do…” she mumbled.

“Park Sun-young. To disrespect your teacher and the other dancers in the class– you wouldn’t do that. What’s gotten into you this week? Didn’t we have a fun weekend?”

“Yes,” she pouted. “But it doesn’t mean I want to go to dance class. I’d rather…”

“Rather what?” he asked when she just trailed off. Not that it mattered. He got behind her and nudged her along and she at least took slightly bigger, quicker steps. Not that her answer mattered. Yeah, sometimes he felt like doing something besides dancing too, but discipline was an important lesson! “You become a better dancer by putting in the effort even on days you don’t feel like it,” he said, pretty sure a teacher had said that to him when he was younger as well. Although not at her age. He wished he had been dancing at her age, but he hadn’t gathered the money, freetime, and bravery needed to give dance a try until middle school, and then a day in which he didn’t want to dance was rare. He knew what a blessing it was to be excused from the family rice cake shop to go dance. 

“I’d rather be sleeping I guess,” she grumbled. “I’m tired. I don’t feel good. I can walk home by myself and you can go to your class.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But Appa…”

He pressed his hand to her perfectly normal looking and feeling face, then the back of her neck, then reached for her wrist to feel her pulse. Not that he could really read a pulse, but it succeeded in calling her bluff.

“Appa, stoooop.”

“You’re fine. Now let’s go.”

“I can walk home with Boyeon–”

“Everyone’s already gone! The school is empty and we’re going to be late!”

“No, Boyeon is still in the science lab, I can go–”

Science. Science.

“Walk. Now.” Jimin’s voice had an edge to it, one which Sun-young rarely heard and took seriously when she did. Her head drooped but she moved her feet finally and the two of them hauled ass through the city to get to the dance studio. 

As they got closer to the studio though, Sun-young began to bounce and shuffle, clearly nervous.

“What is it now, Sunnie?” he sighed, at least trying to sound gentler. “Do you need to go potty?”

“Appa! I’m nine, I don’t say potty. And no!”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked. He held the door for her to slide past him into the building, but there she stopped even though her class was up on the next floor.

“I… I forgot my dance stuff.”

“You’re holding your dance bag,” he said, eyes narrowed suspiciously. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping out anything else; he was baffled why she would lie about something so obviously untrue.

She nodded and didn’t meet his eyes, “I know but um… it’s my ballet stuff. I forgot my hiphop clothes.”

“Well you can just dance in…” But she wore her school uniform and slightly heeled loafers, not at all appropriate for a hiphop dance class. Besides, he didn’t believe her, her dance bag was right there on her shoulder and he’d never heard of her separating out her gear before. “What are you talking about? Your dance bag– oof, why is it so heavy?” he demanded as he slipped it off her shoulder. 

“It’s nothing– Appa, don’t! Appa!”

He ignored her protest and grabby hands as he let the bag thunk to the ground and crouched to unzip. 

Her smaller ballet bag was in there, sure enough, shoes and all, but instead of her dance shoes and gym clothes for hiphop class, five books took up the space instead. He only saw titles for two (Astrophysics for Young People in a Hurry by Neil Degrasse Tyson and a book about tornadoes eloquently titled TORNADOS!) before admitting,

“I’m confused. Why do you have so many books in your dance bag instead of–”

“They were due at the library today and I forgot to turn them in.”

“Well what’s in your backpack then?” he asked. Before guessing, “More books? You forgot to return all these books– then get another bag! Why didn’t you bring your dance stuff? You know you have hiphop today!”

“I know! But I thought– I hoped maybe– I don’t know!” she cried and looked as if she might be on the verge of really crying.

Jimin breathed out through his nose, brain scrambling to figure out what to do. Late library books (and there seemed to be a lot) were going to have fines he didn’t want to pay. Sure it was only a small fine per book, but it was the principle of the matter. Sun-young shouldn’t be late returning books! And she shouldn’t be late to dance class, or showing up without her things! He knew for a fact they didn’t have a spare pair of shoes in her size and he didn’t want her dancing in the studio without shoes; the last thing she needed right now was a broken toenail or bruised ankle. He didn’t understand how she’d made such a mess of something so easy and routine.

“Ok,” he decided. “You go get started with warmups. I’m going to run home and get your dance shoes and bring them here, then I’ll take these books back to the school library for you. I can do all that before my class– Sunnie, why didn’t you just say about the books while we were still in your school?”

“I don’t know… I didn’t want you to know I have them…”

“They’re books, not cocaine.”

“They’re science books, it might as well be the same thing to you!” she defended hotly.

Jimin fought hard not to roll his eyes. She was being ridiculous! Just because he didn’t want her throwing away her dance career at the fresh age of nine didn’t mean she was banned from consuming science! In fact, reading science books was perfect, because she could do that around her dance classes!

“Just go warm up,” he sighed. “Tell them I’ll be back with your stuff as quick as I can.” It would be faster if he took a cab but it was such a waste of money for such a ridiculous mistake.

Sun-young scurried away and Jimin scurried the opposite direction, her backpack and useless dance bag both strapped to him so he could jog. 

He was winded and sweaty by the time he got back to their apartment, and in no mood for the way Sun-young had tossed her shoes and typical dance clothes in the corner, wadded up. This wasn’t how he’d raised her at all! He shoved them into the bag with an angry huff –and only now realized that since he had to go all the way back to the studio to give them to her, he should have just left the books there instead of lugging them all the way home. Fuck! Her scrambled brain was making his brain scrambled too!

He gave himself a minute only to grab a drink from the kitchen and catch his breath. Then, in leaving the apartment, had the idea that maybe he could ask Hanbyul to drop off the books. Fuck, except it was only 4pm and she didn’t get home until after 5. 

And yet in passing her door, he could have sworn he heard voices right beside it. In a moment of weakness, he paused and leaned in close. It wasn’t possible to hear what was being said, but he definitely picked up a low voice, laced through with her softer, lighter one. 

Why was Hanbyul home early, and with a man? Not that it was any of Jimin’s business or anything but… what if she’d gotten sick or something? Or maybe something in her apartment had broken and it was a contractor? That made him nervous; not all contractors could be trusted and it might be obvious that she lived there alone. And if something had broken, she could have mentioned it to him for help; she’d admitted before she hated calling about broken things, but he didn’t mind it at all.

“Focus, Park Jimin,” he muttered to himself as Sunnie’s book bag– no, dance bag!-- dug into his shoulder. It didn’t matter who was in her apartment with her, he couldn’t just run to Hanbyul to help with things that weren’t her problem. He was the dad here, he needed to clean up his daughter’s mess and get to the bottom of all of this. He turned from her door and stretched his calves in the elevator to prepare for the jog back to the studio. At this rate he was going to be danced out before his class even began.

*******

At least Sun-young wasn’t giving him the silent treatment this time, but the forced small talk was awkward. They ate their late dinner in silence and then she went off to do homework while he dealt with bills at the dining room table. Expensive, expensive, everything here was so expensive on only one income. Not for the first time he thought about how much easier some things would be if he took Sun-young to live closer to his parents, or even with his parents. They’d kept him on the right track for his childhood! Clearly he was fucking something up with Sunnie and she wasn’t even a teenager yet!

He waited until she was asleep later that night to call –double checking to make sure she was really asleep and wouldn’t overhear him calling his mom to tell her about things lately. Perhaps against his better judgment, he told her about the forged permission slip, and the forgotten dance clothing, and the books, and the attitude about dance class. But he needed to talk to someone about it, and none of his close friends had raised children or could really understand, even if they meant well. 

She listened to it all with far more of a sense of humor than he cared for. Apparently she found it amusing that Sun-young was giving him a run like this.

“She’s a bright girl,” his Eomma mused, voice full of pride instead of worry or warning. “Stubborn, like her appa.”

“But I was stubborn about the things that were good for me,” he argued. “Once I could dance, I never took it for granted.”

Eomma chuckled, “Yes, yes, stubborn about the thing you cared about. Was it the right thing? It turns out, it was for you, I think. It’s hard to know.”

“But in this case, I do know. Sunnie is talented at dance. She’s worked hard to be good at dance, she loves it there, it’s her home. I mean, she was practically born and raised in that studio!”

“Yes, how brave to take a step away from it, hm?”

Jimin scowled and warned, “It sounds like you are saying I should just let her quit dance. Throw away all her hard work. Do you know how many times people tell me that they wish their parents had made them stick with something because later they have nothing?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. Do I think she should dance? Yes, of course, she’s a beautiful dancer. Ah, Jimin my son, you are as stubborn as your daughter, do you know?”

“I’m protective, Eomma. I’m trying to do the best for her.”

“Do you know, I wanted you to be a lawyer! Or a doctor. You were smart, so very smart, Class President. Nobody else in our family was class president, did you know that?”

“I did know that,” he mumbled. He also remembered her expressing those wishes for him. His father had expressed them longer than she had though; once he started to dance, she’d given it up, and he’d learned to live with that tickle of fear that he’d disappointed his parents in such a fundamental way that he would never do anything right by them again. For all he knew, that was still true. He lived far away, did not make a lot of money, had a beautiful daughter they didn’t get to see enough, and he’d lost his wife. 

“But you knew dance was the right thing for you, oh you said that to us so many times, with your heart and soul and your sparkling eyes, even though you worked so hard in the shop too. You were so certain and I saw with my own certainty that if we did not bend, our relationship would break.”

“Eomma…”

“Do you know how many women I know whose sons, daughters, they don’t talk anymore? They hate their Eommas and Appas. You said it’s because they let them quit. I say it’s because sometimes they didn’t let them quit, or try something else. How do we tell what the right thing is to do as parents? We’re all trying our best.”

“Yes,” Jimin could at least agree with that.

“You are always so certain about the things you believe in,” Eomma continued. “Your conviction is so strong! You wanted to dance, you wanted to live in Seoul, you wanted to run a studio with your friends. But a daughter is not like those things. You can’t choose much of anything for her, even if sometimes it hurts so deeply, knowing you can’t make everything right for your child. Especially when it hurts them.” Jimin swallowed and leaned away from the emotion in her voice. He knew when she was talking about his loss, and as much as he appreciated that she was sad for him about it, he couldn’t give into grief right now.

Instead he focused on his surprise that she wasn’t backing him up, and pressed, “Aren’t you going to say to me that children should respect their parents? Parents shouldn’t just give in to every whim of their child –that’s always what you and Appa say! You say I spoil her too much with–”

“Bending is not the same as bowing! Bending is difficult for you, Jimin. I understand. Maybe it’s even harder now, since…” She didn’t have to say it. Since Subin died. “As a parent you realize how little you actually control and it makes you want to do more. But parents who do not bend, they will lose their children or make them miserable. Which is worse?”

“So you’re saying I should just let her quit.”

“I don’t say this or that. I’m just saying things, don’t listen to me. Can’t she do both? I don’t know, wouldn’t it be nice to have a doctor or an engineer in the family?”

Jimin managed to suppress his sigh. He loved his eomma dearly and her advice was both helpful and not at the same time, but he appreciated it. There was wisdom behind it, even if he didn’t want her pressing Sun-young to be a doctor anymore than–

Ugh. But what if he was doing the same thing with dance?

But Sun-young had always loved danced! From infancy! She’d always said she wanted to be a dancer, and if she quit now, it might be impossible for her to catch up later in any meaningful way!

Jimin was exhausted from the day, and didn’t find the peace he had hoped for in talking with Eomma. There was nothing more he could do about it today though.

This would all be easier if Subin was here. Subin would be able to understand what Sun-young was going through. Maybe it wasn’t even the science thing! Maybe she had other little girl things going on she didn’t want to talk to her dumb old dad about and there was nothing he could do and even if he let her quit every dance class and just live in a science lab, she’d still hate him. Even going to see Mango Crush hadn’t bought him more than a few days of good will.

He got a beer from the fridge but didn’t feel like drinking it alone. But it was sort of late, and he didn’t feel like getting embroiled in any of the dating drama Taehyung or Jungkook would throw his way, and Yoongi was working, and Hoseok was absolutely asleep, and his acquaintances after that weren’t ones he was going to call to come over for a beer at 10 o’clock. Besides, he didn’t really feel like seeing any of them right now, he wanted to just be alone. But not alone with himself.

Briefly he thought about Hanbyul. Maybe more than briefly. Her presence would be welcome. Nothing about her was ever intrusive or abrasive. She always struck just the right balance between listening to him vent and distracting him from pointless thoughts. Fuck, did he vent too much to her? Definitely. He shouldn’t bother her right now.

He went to her door anyway. He knocked and waited. Hudu started barking right away, oops, and then she took an unusually long time to come to the door so that he worried she’d already gone to bed. When she opened it, she had a robe pulled around her body and squinted like she had been asleep, but her makeup was still on.

“Jimin? Is something wrong?”

“Um…” He trailed off when Hudu only looked up at him, then went running off somewhere further into the apartment. And in the distance, a masculine voice said something lowly.

“Nope. Sorry, I was just going to invite you over for a beer but–” It seems you have company?! “--looks like you already went to bed. I’m so sorry for waking you–”

“No, it’s fine. It’s ok. There’s nothing wrong?”

“Nope, absolutely nothing wrong. Just… nothing at all,” he grinned, pouring every ounce of charm he could into distracting her from his own incredibly awkward feelings. Holy shit, Hanbyul had a man in her apartment and they were– obviously they were– was it the same man who had been there six hours ago?!

“Goodnight,” he said and practically ran down the hall. Damn, he was tired of running today.

*******

“Everything all right?” Namjoon asked as Hanbyul returned to the bedroom. She tossed Hudu a dental chew on the way to apologize for banishing him from the bedroom earlier, but there were some things her favorite little pup was not invited for. Not to the fancy dinner Namjoon had taken her to at a place with live music, not to the swank bar afterwards, and definitely not to her own bed, where Namjoon had so suavely removed every item of her clothing for the kind of sex Hanbyul thought was fake.

Wow.

Yeah, it turned out he’d had a good excuse. His mother was in the hospital, doing fine now, but he’d been a little distracted. He was very close with his parents and had gone right to her side.

Charming.

He sat on the edge of her bed now, chest and arms so deliciously bare in the low lights she’d left on, though he’d regrettably pulled his boxers and slacks back on. Hanbyul decided her legs couldn’t hold her much longer and she sat beside him, still a little knobby-kneed from earlier.

“Yes,” she said belatedly. “Everything’s fine, yeah. Just a neighbor asking about– it’s not important.” Talking about Jimin to Namjoon threatened to shake loose the careful coolness she’d managed to maintain throughout this unbelievable evening. She’d done such a good job of staying focused on this man and she didn’t want to ruin it now, just because seeing JImin at her door had first terrified her that something was wrong with Sun-young, and then terrified her that he would be able to tell she’d just had sex. Which felt like something he shouldn’t know. Even though it shouldn’t matter because it’s not like they were a couple or anything! But it felt unfaithful, after that fun time with the concert last weekend… but it wasn’t unfaithful! That was just a fun social event with her neighbor and his daughter. She was not dating Jimin, even if she wished she was. Oh god, but that was unfaithful to Namjoon!

Namjoon let out a deep, satisfied-sounding sigh and leaned in to kiss her before admitting, “I should get going. Early morning tomorrow.”

“Me too.”

“Thanks for inviting me in. I had a great time today.”

“Me too.”

She walked him to the door where he kissed her again and she had that feeling of disbelief that this man had wanted four dates with her now, and that she’d found him so quickly. He had to have a flaw, certainly, but she hadn’t found it yet, except maybe his taste in women… OK, that was too mean to herself. But she focused on the kiss, and enjoyed the kiss, then scooped Hudu up so he wouldn’t run out. He wasn’t totally enamored with Namjoon yet, but they didn’t not get along and Namjoon clearly wanted Hudu’s affection, so that wasn’t a dealbreaker.

He opened the door and stepped out then turned to her and laughed, “You know, it’s such a small world. My buddy lives right down the hall from you.”

Hanbyul froze except for the clench of her very sore abdominal muscles.

“Um… what’s your buddy’s name?”

“Park Jimin. Have you met him?”

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Dark&Wild (5) New Life

You are an interpreter for international idols, but you soon realized their lavish lifestyle came at a cost, and somehow you became the price. The man who came to collect had a special kind of vendetta, and you, so foolishly, sparked his interest.

In this story Yoongi is the villain and you will hate him! Everyone else, well, the question becomes not if there are good guys or who will save you, but how will you save yourself?

yandere loan shark!Yoongi x blind!reader x bodyguard!Jungkook x idol singer!Jimin x idol rapper!Namjoon x idol singer!Taehyung x detective!Hoseok x detective!Seokjin

TW: 18+ only, noncon, mental torment, physical torture, mind break, violence, reader is blinded before events that take place in the story, Jimin is an addict, Yoongi is a sadist, fingering, anal, car sex, restraints, overstimulation

---

“What a nice reunion,” Yoongi says dryly.

You laugh bitterly, swallowing down tears, taking in a shaky breath. Your nails dig into your knees as you decide what to do.

“Jimin…and Namjoon…were they there too?” you ask.

Yoongi sighs, clicking his tongue. “You seem to have already figured that out,” he says, leaning back, knees knocking into yours when he widens his legs. “What? You thought they would come to your rescue? Probably happy their little charity work is finally over. Now I’m fucking stuck with you,” he scoffs. His hand lays over the seat, against your shoulder as he stretches, relaxing...after everything he’s done. 

AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE TO YOU?!

You nod silently.

And then throw your hand out, fist hitting what you can only assume is Yoongi’s smug arrogant looking face. You felt the car jarringly move, probably the driver wondering if he should intervene and thinking better of it.

You manage to hit the loan shark a few more satisfying times. If only you could take pleasure in his pain, but you had lost control of yourself, crying out all the unshed tears you had held in all night, in a rage, screaming obscenities at Yoongi at the top of your lungs. You weren’t thinking of the consequences and at that moment you didn’t care what he would do to you, you felt betrayed...by those who you thought were your friends.

Yoongi grabs your wrists, having to throw his full weight forward to stop your assault. He pushes you across the seats, pinning you down. 

You cry out louder each time he forces your hands back down, each time he pushes back your strength is lessening and lessening, until you can’t move at all, until you sob, out of breath, whimpering as he too heaves out heavy exhales, his chest pushing against yours, reminding you he was all muscle and so much stronger than you.

“Fuck you! Kill me, because I’ll never work for a fucking bastard like you,” you grit out.

Yoongi laughs.

“Now why would I kill someone so entertaining to me?”

He makes a point to drag your wrists where he pleases, rolling his hips between your legs. He pulls your hands in front of you, pinning your hands between your bodies, like he wants to show you how small he could make you, how much control he has over you.

It just makes you cry harder. 

Yoongi’s lip is bleeding, his nose is throbbing from your first hit. It had caught him off guard, he tastes the metallic bitterness of his own blood on his tongue. It pisses him off. But Yoongi is far from angry. You writhe around like a wild animal caught in a trap, even the noises you make sound so desperate, feral, as you sob underneath him. That part of you that is so fiercely trying to resist him sends fire through Yoongi’s veins, hotter than his anger, until he’s cackling with delight.

Fuck, you’re fun. And he’s going to have the best time hurting you back. You gave him every reason to, all for them. Fuck them.

It seems like you really can’t control yourself when it comes to those three, how fucking annoying. Yoongi is itching to make you see that they are not worth all the pain he’s going to put you through. You’re going to hate them, want to have nothing to do with them, after he’s through.

“Oh, you’ve really fucked yourself now. I told you what would happen if you misbehaved-”

You attempt to fight him once again, but you can’t move even a bit out of Yoongi’s grasp now. “It was worth it,” you glower, trying to pull free.

If only you could see Yoongi’s grin, the look in his eyes, you might have been scared. That was the special thing about you, to survive you had to learn how to overcome that small petrified voice in your head that appeared the day you lost your sight. Every step you took held some level of unknowing. You were forced every day to face your fears. Was it a blessing in disguise now? Would it have been harder on you to see the monsters hidden in the dark? Or did it matter, since you couldn’t run away?

Eventually you’ll learn too how to live in this new kind of darkness. Eventually…

NEW LIFE

“Sir, we’ve arrived.”

The driver didn’t look back, only to the rear view mirror where he could see the shoulders and the top of his boss’s head. The car had come to a stop inside Yoongi’s garage. 

“Leave us alone.”

You heard the door open and close, the car heating up once the car was turned off and the air conditioner came to a stop. You knew what was coming, if Yoongi’s stiff cock growing harder in the confines of his pants was any indication. 

The car dinged and then it became quiet, only your heavy breathes you could hear, seeming to get louder in the confined space.

You knew he was a snake, but you were still unprepared to deal with his particular kind of constriction. You were suffocating under him, fighting against him only served to bring him in closer. You were trapped, like you and Yoongi were tangled in woven threads, the more you tried to pull away from him, the tighter you wound around each other, the higher your slit rose, the wider he hiked up your legs and exposed you to him.

Yoongi was surprisingly quiet. The silence stretched, forced you to think of him, trying to guess his next move.

Yoongi could feel your heartbeat thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings. He found the small shake in your pupils interesting, the very miniscule indicator that your eyes couldn’t focus. Your anger hadn’t lessened, Yoongi had wound you up, and even when you snapped you were still kinetic, energy Yoongi could feel, in the way you breathed, in your tight locked limbs, so much potential…

Yoongi was a power hungry man, and he was hungry to take yours away, savor it for all his own.

“I think I figured out now which one of those idiots you fucked, by the way. When you kissed me I wish you could have seen his face,” he laughs, trying to get under your skin again. “I wonder what reaction he’d have watching me fuck you instead.” His fingers dig into your wrists, bringing them together above your head. His other hand went to his belt while you let out another distressed whimper.

“Too bad. He’s not here. You’re all alone.” He then digs his fingers into your cheek, “Tell me no. C’mon, beg.” 

He rips the front of your dress down, exposing the top of your body to him. You scream. 

“NO.”

He lets his head drop, his cheek pressing against yours. “Mmm tell me no again.”

He puts his hand in between your legs. 

You cry, scrunching your face up in agony. His fingers move, dipping into your entrance. He takes his time, waiting, prodding around your hole with the slightest amount of pressure.

“Beg me to stop. What did you think was going to happen after you hit me in front of one of my men? No, you knew and you still fucking did it.” He swirls his finger around in your growing wetness, stroking out shameful whimpers from you. “I think you want it.”

“…n-no,” you stutter. 

No! 

You whispered it again, whined out, high pitched and feeble. It made him so hard. Yoongi kisses the corner of your lips and presses two fingers all the way inside you.

Yoongi didn’t need to punch you like you had done to him to hurt you back. His actions didn’t need to leave bruises to provide injury, not when his affection cut you so much worse, sliced you into pieces. The bruises to your ego were not going to heal, even if the ones on your body would. And there were plenty of those once he was done, on your sides, on your thighs, your neck, your back, your wrists, your arms. 

“Say no to me again.” His voice drops lower as moves his fingers inside you, stroking the walls of your pussy too tenderly for the monster he was. You bruise your bottom lip with your teeth, holding in your cries. 

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You knew he was getting off on it, but even if you knew it, when he spread your legs wider to make room for himself, you cried out pleading for him to stop.

He fucked into you without any pause, like he had sucked up all your anger and was using it to rip into you at full strength. 

You quickly learned Yoongi liked it when you cried. So you clamped your mouth shut, clenched your jaw, breathed through your nose, anything to stop yourself from letting out tears, until you really couldn’t take anymore and then Yoongi would be satisfied. 

Don’t cry too much or he would keep going on and on and on, each stroke becoming deeper and quicker and rougher, don’t hold it in for too long or he would make it unbearable, twisting your body, not even going after his own pleasure, just making sure each deep thrust chipped away less of you and filled you with more of him. 

You were covered in sweat, your sweat, Yoongi’s sweat…

You tried to think of anything else, but the garage’s silence and the car’s close quarters made it impossible. You were prisoner to your agonizing present, Yoongi’s vice grip on your hands and his thick cock piercing into you. The stuffiness of the car felt like an oven, like you were being cooked. He burned you with his filthy words, filled you to the brim with white hot streams of his cum.

He carried you back to his room and then he tore your new dress off you, taking back everything he had given you.

You wonder if this had been what he wanted all along, why he did everything to set you off, just so he could have someone he could devour whole, the way he eagerly forced his tongue into your mouth like he needed to taste every inch of you.

He made sure you knew every inch of him too, every inch of his cock. He fucked into your pussy until you were molded for him.

At least it didn’t hurt anymore, you thought, until he moved to your ass, finding a new way to make you cry out for him, to make you regret putting your hands on him now that his hands were groping every part of you. 

Perhaps at one point he thought your punishment had sufficed, his apparent anger had dimmed, he held your compliant weakened body almost tenderly, giving you his cock and responding to your body’s mewls. 

This felt more cruel, the way he would hold you down in his bed and eagerly rut into as he watched your traitorous body respond, how he circled your clit and brought you to the brink of orgasm despite your best efforts. You tried to shy away into the pillows and he wouldn’t let you do that either, he made sure you heard his heavy breath, felt the heat of his mouth above yours and smelled him as he held your head still, fingers curling into your mouth so you even had to taste his his sweat and cum mixed with yours. You couldn’t see him, but at this point it didn’t matter, he might as well have crawled into your skin, because Yoongi was everything you felt, your every other senses obliterated by him.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you waited for the inevitable. You couldn’t stop him and you couldn’t even stop yourself anymore, Yoongi knew it too.

You should be disgusted, it was still there in the pit of your stomach, but now there was something even worse. The drag of his cock punctuated pleasure inside you that you couldn’t get away from and everything throbbed, your whole body from head to toe.

You clenched your teeth, unable to quiet yourself any longer, soft protected moans escaping as your pussy tightened around Yoongi for the first time.

You could hear the satisfaction in his heavy growls. Yoongi picked up the pace as your body tensed in overstimulation. He wanted to hear you again, whining, begging him to stop. 

So you would learn it was never going to stop.

-

-

-

You wake up, mouth dry. You turn on your side, hugging your knees to your body. The floor was cold. You felt dizzy, delirious even, unable to get a good night's rest for, has it been only six days? Well, six days of torture of course would feel like a lifetime to anybody in this situation.

You hear the door unlock, is it morning already? You barely slept…again…

You don’t remember when exhaustion had finally taken you away from Yoongi, but you woke up in an empty room, all alone, every muscle sore, inside and out.

Everything became transactional after that night. A bed was only for Yoongi and you, if you didn’t want to be with him, he said, then here you would stay. If you wanted to eat something, you were going to have to do something to appease his appetite as well. 

You haven’t eaten anything in days.

You were stubborn, possibly the most stubborn person Yoongi has ever met, even worse than himself, but eventually the body always wins over the mind, there’s always a breaking point, always.  

Exhaustion, hunger, thirst. When it comes down to it, the complexity of human existence can be stripped down to these three. Three simple drives becoming all consuming, all you know, all you feel, all you need to end.

Your anger is gone, you only feel three things now.

You stayed on your side, hugging your knees, listening to footsteps becoming closer. 

Yoongi reaches for your hand, depositing a small tiny round pill into your palm. He did this yesterday too, that morning you threw it at him. This morning you held it in your fist, still refusing to swallow it.

“It’s pain medicine. If you take it I will give you water.” 

You reach out your arm weakly at his last word. “Water? Food...”

“Take it first.” 

You throw it at Yoongi. You catch your body from falling over, immediately wishing you hadn’t done that, you desperately wanted water. 

Any other day, Yoongi probably would have thrown the water in your face to spite you, but this game was getting boring and he wanted you ready to leave with him for the weekend, so he played nice. He knew you were on the brink of giving into whatever he wanted anyways.

You hear him move around the room, the small pill put back into your palm.

“Is it really pain medication?”

“No.” He sounds so delightfully smug about telling you the truth.

You start to cry. “What is it?”

“A sedative.”

“Why?”

“So you can rest.”

So he can do things to you without any resistance, you think.

“Give me my bed back,” you mumble. Something soft hits your bare shoulders. You realize it is Yoongi’s jacket. You pull it closer, anything was better than the thin tight underwear you only wore, even if it did smell just like him. 

You’re too tired to fight him when he lifts your chin up to get a better look at you. You didn’t realize your head had been down or how heavy your limbs had become. “You don’t have a bed, you don’t have a room. Not anymore,” Yoongi states impassively, in a low tone sounding almost of disappointment, like he wasn’t the one who had taken those things away from you in the first place!

You bite your lip, holding your breath. “Please…just give me food then…” 

“In exchange for?”

You exhale defeatedly.

Let him win this time, y/n.

You finally listen to yourself. Slowly, you put the pill in your mouth, letting his jacket drop off your shoulders before swallowing.

Yoongi’s voice is closer. He’s crouching down in front of you. “Look at that…” he says amusedly. You shiver, knowing he’s staring at your exposed skin. “No, I don’t want your body,” he decides.

Now he doesn’t want it?! If you were stronger, thinking straighter, you would have had a million rebuttals to yell at him, but you were too hungry and tired to do anything but sulk, feeling more and more pathetic. “...what…”

“If that’s all you’re willing to give now then I can take you to our Gangnam parlor. How’s that sound? Rich business men looking for a novelty fuck? Fucking the blind whore?” He stands up, his voice retreating away to the door. “You’ll stay there until you pay off Jimin’s debt.”

Your blood runs cold. No no no.

You couldn’t say you knew what Yoongi was capable of, but you knew at least something about him. You couldn’t stand the thought of having new unfamiliar hands touch your most intimate parts. It made the bile in your stomach rise to think of an endless slew of faceless men coming and going… 

“No, okay, p-please. What do you want then?!” You bow your head low, falling forward. You didn’t know if it was the pill you took or your own exhaustion that made everything feel so numb. You pat the floor until you find Yoongi’s jacket again, wrapping it around your body. 

“Then make yourself actually useful. You know, how many languages? Six?”

“I know more than that,” you mumble.

“Get up, come with me. You don’t have to suffer here, in this purgatory anymore and you don’t have to go live in hell.” He crosses his arms, staring down at your gaunt figure. “Well?!” He barks, impatient. The choice was so obvious, the fact you kept up this little rebellion was so idiotic! Like working for Yoongi was worse than this?! 

“Choose now! A life of hell or-”

“-with the devil,” you finish, fingers trembling as you hold his coat tight to you. You outstretch your arm, reaching for him.

Yoongi exhales, “or go with the devil,” the nettled tone in his voice diminishing.

You stand up, managing to walk a few steps before your legs give out and you fall into Yoongi’s arms.

He picks you up easily and takes you out of purgatory.

---

“This man’s a fucking idiot. I’m going to take all his fucking money.”

The man looks at you expectantly, waiting to hear Yoongi’s answer.

You keep smiling, “Mr. Min agrees to your terms. We’ll meet again at the first of the month.” This man was taking out a 1.3 million yen loan and expecting to be able to pay Yoongi back almost double in a month’s time. You agreed, he sounded ridiculous, but he was clearly desperate, and you understand how desperation makes people make stupid choices…  

Chairs scrape, locks reclick, payment is handed over.

You wait until one of Yoongi’s men bumps your shoulder. Then you feel another man, shoulder to shoulder with you. Jeon Jungkook. You could tell it was him, he was the only one who cleared his throat before standing beside you. He also moved back and forth more than the others, he seemed to hate standing still. You decide to let him be the one to lead you. Yoongi and his men moved like a unit, and you were positioned in the ranks among them.

You listened to the sounds of the street market at night, you could smell the vendors cooking as you walked through Kobe, Japan. 

You end up in a small restaurant. The men order sake and grilled seafood, yakitori, and udon. Jungkook sits beside you. “Do you want some sake?”

“Yeah,” you nod. Might as well. Jungkook pours sake into your glass and pours one for himself. 

Jungkook doesn’t complain when he helps you, he takes his time instead of being impatient and rough with you. It’s another reason why you prefer to let him lead you over any one of Yoongi’s men. 

You were slowly learning the differences between them.

There was the man who smelled like cleaning supplies. He unnerved you. His frame was thin, his arm felt like just bones, and he was so quiet you could barely hear him breathe. 

There was a man who breathed through his mouth, he was stocky, always chewing on something. He’s a chauvinist, but it worked in your favor. He doesn’t find you threatening so he isn’t weary around you, he lets slip important details. He finds you weak and who are you to tell him otherwise, plus he always gives you some of his jerky, the snack he’s always eating. 

There was one who always seemed to forget you lacked spatial awareness, you were always bumping into things when he led you and he was always complaining. He walked too fast, he was annoying, and sounded like he was just a boy of sixteen, so you couldn’t hate him too much. 

You had your favorites. Jungkook was of course at the top, and there was another man who was patient like him, and funny too, you think he called himself Jon, and you have a suspicion he is a foreigner like you.

“Let me know if you want more,” Jungkook says, putting the glass in your hands. He makes sure your fingers are firmly around the tiny cup before letting go. You smile, nodding. 

Jungkook was quiet. He never answered your questions unless you asked for help. Any time you were curious and tried to find out something about what you were to be doing or where you were being taken, his mouth stayed annoyingly shut. Despite that, he was still your favorite. 

Your fingers skim around the table as you try to find your utensils. “The spoon?”

“Not with the chopsticks. To your right.” That’s why he was your favorite, he didn’t stick the spoon in your hand out of frustration like the others would have. He let you try first, gave you some dignity to this undignified role of yours.

You ordered a rice bowl. Meat with onion and egg, simple and easy to eat and so delicious you could have eaten another bowl. Jungkook grabs two chicken skewers and puts one in your empty bowl, telling you there were good. It made you smile again.

Yoongi sat at the head of the table, watching it all, deciding if he should tell Jungkook to stay away from you from today on, or, perhaps, see how close you two can become…

Someone yells across the restaurant in accented Korean. “Min Yoongi, I told you our food is the best in Kobe!”

“It’s good,” Yoongi says simply, drinking another glass of sake.

The chatter dies down and you feel the room getting more crowded. “You should have told me you were in town, I could have brought in some hostesses for you.”

“Best not to mix business and pleasure.”

“Ahhh you’re such a workaholic. You haven’t changed at all! Another round of sake then?”

“Got any soju?”

“Ayye, we have the best sake available in Japan and you want soju?” he laughs. “You know, I think I still have the bottle you got me.” You listen to fingers snapping. “Big man know you’re in town?”

Yoongi tips his head back and finishes his drink, smiling back. “He knows.”

“So what business are we not mixing with pleasure?”

Yoongi clears his throat. “Just reeling in a few small fish, they think they can swim away with a debt and I can’t find them.”

The man sighs for those poor men, pouring soju for Yoongi and himself. “They knew what they were doing coming to this district. The tides here turn quickly. Did you want our help? Throw out some nets for you?” he jokes.

“They need to be alive to pay their debt,” Yoongi grunts, the man laughs, he sounds so friendly, such a stark contrast to the loan shark, so the implication throws you off guard. You still need to get used to the fact that there are no good men around you anymore.

The yakuza member tries to get Yoongi to divulge more of his dealings,  but Yoongi knows better than to show his hand to another player, no matter how friendly. You listen as they talk, Yoongi seems to be only mildly inconvenienced by his presence, they must be good friends, so it catches you off guard when he suddenly speaks in Japanese, “Check and make sure that’s all he’s doing and Kumicho is aware of the situation,” he says to his associate next to him.

“He’s going to check if Min is telling the truth,” you say softly, loud enough for Jungkook to hear.

Yoongi’s old friend hears too. 

He looks you over for the first time, studying your blank stare. Someone of his rank did not need to pay special attention to anyone but those he deemed as important as him, counting on his men to keep the rest of you in check, but now that he sees you, he’s surprised he didn’t notice you sooner, a woman amongst a bunch of gangsters. You didn’t look like a whore or one of their girlfriends, and you didn’t act like one either. You were fitted in the same suit as the rest, but you looked too soft to really fit in, too…innocent. It’s an odd sight.

“You understand me?” He notices your blank stare is more than just that as you glare in his general direction. “Ahh a flower in the midst of vines. But you seem to have some thorns on you too,” he says so only you understand. You stay quiet. “As you can’t tell, I’ll explain it to you, I’m not someone you should ignore,” he says in Korean.

“She only answers to me,” Yoongi interjects. You knew his friend had a good enough grasp of Korean to understand, but you still repeat the phrase in Japanese.

“She’s my interpreter. Don’t bother asking her anything, any words she speaks are just an extension of my voice. She really doesn’t have any other thoughts.”

Oh you have a lot of thoughts, and at this moment, they all involve ways to make Yoongi scream in pain.

The yakuza shakes his head, laughing. “You like collecting the odd ones,” he says, eyeing Jungkook. “But you know, I can’t protect you here. If you are dealing to any…bigger fish…we will need a cut,” he says, all his attention back on the loan shark.

Yoongi chuckles, he nods but you can’t see it and you become tense in the silence. “Well, I’m willing to negotiate, but deals like this are above your rank now, Moriuchi.”

This man is a top level gangster in one of the most notorious gangs in Kobe, but he’s a good sport. He spent a lot of his youth in Korea, and Yoongi was always reliable when it counted most. He cracks his knuckles. “Well…then I guess we’ll just have to go see the boss man.”

-

“Why? How are you going to understand them?”

“Like I said, I know some Japanese and Moriuchi can translate the rest for me.”

“Why?! I thought this is why you brought me here!” you argue. Yoongi had just finished telling you how you were not allowed to come with him tonight.

Yoongi pushes your shoulders down until you sit on the edge of his bed. “Because I said so.”

“W-What are you doing?” You begin to panic when he pushes your body backward onto his soft sheets. 

“There’ll be no one here to keep an eye on you this time, little mouse. And I know better than to let you wander. Lift your arms.”

You feel your chest tighten, the weight of his words laying heavy on you. Why can’t you just go with them instead?! You have been more than cooperative. Fuck, you’ve done every stupid thing he’s asked of you. You don’t want to be tied up like a prisoner, reminding you of the actual truth of your situation.

“Please, don’t do this, I’ll be good. Why can’t I go?!” you struggle under him as Yoongi ties you to the bed. He wipes away your tears, quickly removing himself before he lets himself become sidetracked by your soft enticing whimpers. He should have just given you a sedative instead, but Yoongi had no time to waste.

He would have taken you under any normal circumstance, but he expected this particular situation was going to quickly dissolve into chaos. Actually, he hoped for it. And even if he wanted a bloody outcome, this den of lions was not his, you would be eaten alive. It’s too dangerous for you. Yoongi knew how to fight, how to win, his claws knew how to tear others apart. Even if you had adapted to scratch, you were a kitten in comparison. Even if you had your sight, Yoongi would not have allowed you to come.

“We are meeting with the head of the Yakuza...in his home. You want to go there?”

No. “Y-Yes.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at your unconvincing answer. “If you think I am bad, you don’t know the Japanese.” You flinch away as his lips trail over your jaw and neck as he takes his time to smell you one last time. You try to wiggle away from him, angry. He ties your mouth shut, in case you decide to scream for someone to help you. “I’ll be back soon. I expect it won’t take any time at all.”

Goddammit. You scream into your gag, twisting your body around. He couldn’t even turn on the TV so you could listen to something?!

Without any way to tell time, waiting for Yoongi to come back was agony. You half suspected he was dead already, murdered by the Yakuza, and that would have been great news if you weren’t trapped to his bed with no way to free yourself. His death meant inevitably yours too, you thought, annoyed at the irony. 

Finally the door unlocks.

“So here you were,” Moriuchi laughs. He grabs your ankle, pulling your restraints taunt. You speak a slew of muffled questions, kicking out with your free leg. “Tied up? Now I’m confused.”

Where was Yoongi, what was going to happen to you now?! Did that idiot bastard really get himself killed?!

You knee the yakuza member hard when he gets closer, scrambling away as best you can. You scream again when he pulls you back down.

“Let her go.” You go limp in surprise. Then you kick him one last time, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to surprise him.

“Did you see that?! She kicked me, what the fuck.” 

“Yeah, you deserved it. Did I say you could touch her?”

You hear heavy things being dropped on the floor. Yoongi and his friend moving around quickly. Later you’ll learn those heavy objects were suitcases full of weapons, part of a good deal made for helping finish his friend's coup d’etat. Yoongi liked good deals, and he liked allies even more, and Yoongi’s friend was opportunistic, and also knew when to move with the tides.

Tonight you also learned when Yoongi was in a good mood, he didn’t mind sharing.

---

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter: His Obsession (Update Goal: 500 notes)

The Fifth: Part 2 (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: After a horrible first date, Jungkook is determined to redeem himself with a second. You're just as determined not to give in, until you realise you might just.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff, teasing, banter, idiots to lovers

Word count: 12.6 K

Warnings: Minor injuries, Jungkook in a leather jacket

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1)

Listen to: "whistle for the choir" by the fratellis

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

Ping.

You close your eyes even tighter, groaning into the pillow when your phone pings again. It’s been a long few days; the promotion feels like it's in your grasp, just a few weeks away from becoming official. Barring any complications. Extra credit means extra work and less sleep, making tonight the first night in a long time that you’ve been able to go to bed by midnight.

When your phone pings a third time, you grudgingly open your eyes, the screen on the bedside table the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. Silently cursing whoever it is, you see a message from Jeon Jungkook on your lockscreen. You’re tired, but you find yourself opening it anyway to see three messages, all sent within a span of a minute.

JK [00:08]

I remembered a second thing.

JK [00:08]

You like Harry Styles.

JK [00:09]

You were singing along to my playlist in the car.

You frown, immediately thinking back to that night before replying.

Me [00:10]

What are you talking about?

JK [00:10]

You were singing along to Adore You. It was soft but you definitely were.

Me [00:11]

The music must have been echoing in the car.

JK [00:11]

Forgive me but your voice sounds nothing like Harry’s.

You wince, chewing on your bottom lip. It’s not completely unbelievable.

Me [00:12]

Um, I really don’t think I was singing.

JK [00:12]

You were. I distinctly remember because I was contemplating telling you to knock it off, but you actually sounded pretty good.

Me [00:13]

Oh.

Me [00:13]

That’s quite a compliment from you, I guess.

JK [00:14]

You’re welcome. And that’s two.

You roll your eyes, flipping onto your stomach to rest in a more comfortable position, gazing at your screen.

Me [00:15]

You remembered this random detail in the middle of the night?

JK [00:15]

It’s barely midnight. I just had my second dinner.

Me [00:15]

I thought you were on a diet.

JK [00:16]

Sigh. I am but I also spent two hours in the gym and eight hours in the dance studio so I’m allowing myself a cup of ramen.

Me [00:16]

Good kid.

JK [00:16]

Wait, did I wake you up?

Me [00:16]

Almost.

JK [00:16]

Huh. Already?

Me [00:17]

Yes. I need to make up for a week’s worth of sleep and still be up by seven.

JK [00:17]

I thought you people started work at nine. Do you take two hours to get ready?

Me [00:17]

No, but I need to make a detour to this coffee shop before work.

JK [00:18]

Doesn’t Hybe have coffee machines everywhere?

Me [00:18]

Yes, but the one on our floor’s been broken for ages. And I need the caffeine.

JK [00:18]

Alright then. I’ll let you sleep.

Me [00:18]

That’s very big of you.

JK [00:19]

Haha. Just wanted to remind you - two down, three to go. Goodnight :)

You sigh and lock your phone, rolling on your back to go to sleep. You picture the shit-eating grin he’s sure to have on his face right now, thrilled at remembering two things from the horrendous date you’d both been on. Ever since you made it clear to him that you’d forgiven him and weren’t mad at him anymore, his entire demeanour changed from wide-eyed and apologetic to downright mischievous and cocky.

You hadn’t quite expected Jungkook to take this challenge so seriously; to be honest, you’d only created it to discourage him. You were sure he remembered next to nothing, mostly because due to the lack of response, you’d eventually stopped talking as well. The fact of the matter was that there wasn’t a lot of material to begin with - or so you’d thought.

Somehow, a week after the launch party, he’d texted you out of the blue during a working lunch, where you, Seulgi and three other people were sitting on the floor of a conference room, working towards a deadline that took precedence over everything else, including food.

“Is that Sooya?” Seulgi asked immediately when your phone pinged. “She literally texted you five minutes ago! Tell your manager we’re doing it as fast as we can! Jesus.”

“No, hang on,” you muttered, frowning at your phone where it was on the table. From where you were sitting, you could only make out the notification and the length of the sender’s name - too short to be Kim Sooya’s. Reaching up, you retrieved it to find a message from someone you genuinely didn’t think you’d hear from again.

JK [13:40]

You don’t like seafood. Right?

You squinted. You’d saved his contact with just his initials seven months ago, finding it strange that Jeon Jungkook was messaging you at all. You weren’t a BTS fan by any stretch of the imagination; you knew them, you didn’t dislike them and if a popular song played at a club, you probably knew the words. But even you knew their maknae and moreover, you knew his fanbase. In an effort to keep the lowest profile possible, you’d gone so far as to mask his name in your phone as much as possible without feeling like a criminal.

Me [13:43]

Is this an accidental text?

He replied immediately.

JK [13:43]

No. You, Cheon Lia, don’t like seafood. Am I right?

It was true, unfortunately, but you could place neither the context nor the expected response.

Me [13:44]

Why do you think that?

JK [13:44]

Because on our date, I ordered the fish and you made a face. So you probably don’t like seafood.

Me [13:45]

Is this about the five things I dared you to remember from that night?

JK [13:45]

Yes. And this is one.

“What does she want?”

Your head whipped up to see Seulgi, eyes wide and questioning. “Oh, it’s - it’s not Sooya. Just… my mom.” You wait until she processes this and turns back to her laptop before turning back to your phone.

Me [13:46]

Alright. This is one. Good job, Jeon. I think.

JK [13:46]

Four more to go. Have a good day :)

That was four days ago. In the flurry of endless work, most of which is for BTS’s new comeback, you’ve been too busy to think about it and he’s presumably too busy with said comeback to do the same. Still, the fact that he’s texted you in the middle of the night implies that he hasn’t forgotten about your challenge - and you find you’re pleasantly surprised at how much he remembers.

You’re still thinking about it the next morning when you reach Hybe, along with wondering how much you might have inadvertently revealed on your date and how likely he is to come up with three more details. You’d only promised to consider a second date; you could still say no. You just hadn’t had the faith that he’d even come up with one thing, but the fact that he has two makes you start wondering if you’ll actually have to follow through on your promise.

“Someone out there likes you.” Seulgi greets you with a sing-songy remark, giving you a meaningful look as she brushes past you to go to her desk.

You almost choke again. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry. I should say someone up there likes you,” she amends. She juts her chin towards something behind you. “They fixed the coffee machine.”

“What?” you gasp, turning around hurrying towards the beautiful, ancient machine that’s been here, in this floor of the Hybe building for nearly as long as you have and run your hands down its side, feeling the familiar heat. “I didn’t even have time to stop for coffee on the way! Oh, sweet thing, your heavenly body never ceases to amaze -”

“They’ve put out coffee, too,” interrupts Seulgi who, ever since the summer launch party, is remarkably less stressed. “I think you may have actually gotten someone other than you interested in our daily caffeine intake,” she comments, reaching for her usual green tea.

You peer into the plastic boxes and let out another low breath, hardly daring to believe it. Reaching out for a sachet, you gasp. “They gave us Caffeta sachets,” you breathe, feeling misty. “I didn’t think anyone even knew this brand. I can’t believe it.”

Seulgi raises her eyebrows. “I can. This is literally the first time I’ve ever heard of it.”

“It’s the best,” you declare. “They’re basically like teabags - do you know what caffeine addicts have to do to get good coffee? The process and the paraphernalia, not to mention the equipment -”

“Maybe they’re a new sponsor for Hybe or something,” says Seulgi thoughtfully, stirring her tea. She looks up to see you giving her a look. “What? I’ve never heard you mention this brand either.”

“I literally have four sachets in my bag at all times for emergencies -”

“Lia? Can I see you for a moment?”

You turn to see Sooya, your manager, gesture to you from inside her glass office and your heart sinks. It should be illegal for work to be presented to an employee before they’ve had their morning coffee, you think glumly as you follow her inside. She turns to you, looking the very picture of a corporate slave (pristine black pencil skirt, crisp pale pink blouse, hair long and pony-tailed, not a strand out of place, skin looking radiant) and presses a single key on her laptop.

“I’ve just sent you a file,” she says, “and it has everything about a new band Hybe’s launching this fall. They want to see a digital marketing plan by next week.”

You wait for her to continue but when she doesn’t, you frown. “Wow, don’t go overboard on the detailing,” you joke, chuckling nervously. When all she does is crack a forced yet sympathetic smile, your own fades. “Wait… is that it?” At her nod, you scoff shakily. “This - this is a joke, right?” You fumble with your phone to open the email she’s just sent you, scanning the rather scant file attached. “They want a marketing plan,” you repeat, “for this?”

“Well, yes.”

“This tells us nothing, though.” You look down at your phone again anxiously. “I mean - is it even a boy group or a girl group?”

“Girl group. But -”

“What’s their name? How many members?”

“They don’t know. Or they haven’t come up with one.” When you make a noise that’s something between a scoff and a whimper, Sooya sighs. “We’ll have to show them options. They want this group to be big overseas so they’re heavily relying on digital marketing. Look, I know this is a ridiculous ask,” she admits. “They’ve genuinely given us nothing - but apparently SM is coming out with another group in the winter so they want to launch this group before that one so they’re really pushing for a strategy. You can take Seulgi’s help if you need,” she suggests.

You try not to stare at her too accusingly. “She’s not in digital. I’ll… I’ll check with Eunji, maybe,” you mutter, looking down forlornly at your phone. “Did you say they need this next week?”

“Tuesday. Which gives you… six whole days,” she says, conveniently counting the weekend as well. “It’ll be great for your promotion,” she says after a moment and you know you’ve lost.

When you trudge out of her office, you see Seulgi’s sympathetic expression.

“You knew,” you grumble, falling into the chair beside her.

She clicks her tongue and pats your shoulder. “At least now we know why they sprung for the good coffee.”

---

It’s unlikely, but it almost seems as though Seulgi is onto something, for you consume possibly ninety percent of all the coffee provided on your floor over the next few days. You reach the office every day by eight since the creative types start their day early and you don’t manage to leave until ten pm at the very least, after which you reach home, shower, inhale some food if you can and get back to work until you fall asleep on your bed, your laptop still open next to you.

The real clincher comes on the weekend when, due to the misread of a moodboard, you’re compelled to go into the office on a Saturday. The office is open, of course, for the artists and management basically live here, but as far as the corporate employees are concerned, you’re the only one. The floor is eerily empty when you reach at half past four in the afternoon; even the lights haven’t been switched on, making it look like a workplace thriller just waiting to happen.

You locate the moodboard in the same conference room where it was left yesterday. Taking a picture of it from every angle possible, you send it to the rest of the two-member team you’ve managed to scrounge for this project before sitting in an empty chair, suddenly exhausted. It’s beyond strange being here on a weekend, especially in casual clothes. You’d given yourself a twenty minute break to take a shower and even that your team wouldn’t let you have that in peace. One frantic phone call later, you were pulling on an old, grey long-sleeved t-shirt and ancient jeans, grabbing a hoodie and being out the door while your hair still dripped.

You contemplate working from the office for the rest of the day, reasoning that it’s still less depressing than working in your room on a weekend while your roommate parties with a bunch of other friends, when your phone pings.

JK [16:34]

You have a brother. That’s three.

Your stomach does a backflip, probably because Jungkook’s the first person to talk to you today about something that isn’t work.

Me [16:34]

I never mentioned my brother. I’m sure of it.

JK [16:34]

Pretty sure you did. I don’t remember when but I think he’s younger?

Me [16:35]

Do you remember anything else about that conversation?

JK [16:35]

Um

JK [16:36]

This is hard.

JK [16:36]

But I’m picturing a birthday party?

You frown, genuinely having no idea what he’s talking about. You don’t talk much about your brother - not for any particular reason, but you aren’t famously in touch or anything. You definitely haven’t mentioned him on a first date.

Me [16:37]

I didn’t mention my brother.

JK [16:37]

Then how do I know he’s younger than you?

Me [16:37]

You saw the picture on my board at my desk. It’s of me and Seoyeon at his birthday party.

JK [16:38]

… ohhh, yeah, you’re right. Damn it.

Me [16:38]

Yep. Valiant effort, though.

Jungkook sends you a selfie where he’s standing before a microphone with gigantic headphones on, glaring into the camera in the way that makes him look like a rodent in a Pixar animation. You lock your phone, feeling slightly lighter than before before switching on one of the office computers and logging into your work account, resigning yourself to work over the next few hours. You wallow in self-pity, picturing your promotion as the light at the end of the tunnel as you make the best of the Caffeta sachets left out.

The weather outside is spectacular; it’s cool and breezy, leaves blowing lazily in the early evening and golden sun while you slave away in an unnaturally air conditioned building, staring at a screen that makes your eyes hurt. When the sun is about to set, you hear the sounds and look outside to see rain: beautiful, picturesque rain that makes you want to hurl the printer next to you at a window just so you can feel some of it.

When you’re done - not done with work, but done - you grab your hoodie and start heading out, wondering if you can join in at your roommate’s party and drink yourself to sleep. You’re being dramatic, you know that, but, you reason, only because the situation calls for it. Reaching the lobby of the building, however, you halt.

The rain, the beautiful rain that legends write songs about, is suddenly a lot more real. Now that it’s fully dark (half past ten, you confirm), all you see is dim streetlamps reflecting off puddles, cars splashing you as you walk home - obviously, since you failed to bring your deadbeat car that would take longer to start than it would take you to walk to Hybe - and wet socks by the time you reach home.

Your stomach growls and you groan softly, wondering briefly if you should just risk it and run home. You’ll be frozen to the bone by then, sure, but at least you’ll be out of this depressing office. Your roommate has been drinking since before you left the house, so that’s not an option anyway, which leaves no one to give you a lift either.

At that thought, something stirs in your memory. You pull out your phone and stare at it before slowly going back to your WhatsApp chat - Jungkook’s chat.

Me [22:12]

Hey.

You wait for the double-tick, the thought suddenly occurring to you that even if it turns out that he is miraculously in the building on a Saturday night, too, there’s no telling when he’ll see your message, when he plans to leave or whom he’s with. When five minutes pass with no reply, you deflate in disproportionate disappointment.

It’s just rain, you tell yourself as your stomach continues sinking. Power through. You’re about to, channelling a generic indie movie character and stepping out with your phone tucked deep into your hoodie pocket when it suddenly buzzes. Heart leaping, you fish it out.

JK [22:19]

This is a pleasant surprise.

Me [22:19]

It is?

JK [22:20]

Yeah. This is the first time you’ve texted me. What’s up?

Knowing you can’t quite ambush him with a request, especially when he seems so surprised to hear from you, you bite your lip before responding.

Me [22:20]

Not much. What’s up with you?

JK [22:21]

Heading home. Been in the studio all day.

You exhale slowly, hardly daring to believe it.

Me [22:21]

Studio as in… Hybe?

JK [22:22]

That’s right. Why?

Me [22:22]

Because I kind of need a favour.

Ten minutes later, you’re in the parking lot under the building, leaning against a wall as you wait for Jungkook. There are a surprising number of cars parked for a Saturday night; apart from a Prius and a motorcycle at the end of the lot, all the cars are super shiny and fancy, meaning they belong to artists. You absently let your gaze roam over them, trying to remember which one is Jungkook’s from the night he took you out. It was a dark colour, probably black, with a heated interior and soft seats, smelling of detergent and cologne…

“Cheon Lia!”

You whip around to see a tall figure approaching you - taller than you remember. Jungkook grins as he nears you, dressed in a white t-shirt, a frayed black leather jacket, black cargo pants and combat boots. He looks so casual; you don’t know why it surprises you or why it makes you continue sneaking looks at him as you follow him.

“Wait, where are we going?” you ask, suddenly noticing that you’ve passed the entire row of cars.

“To my ride.” He raises his eyebrows as he stops next to -

“The bike?” You stop in your tracks. “This is yours?”

“Yeah. I love riding - and the weather was great when I rode here. Is it a problem?” he asks curiously.

You take a step forward, gingerly touching the sleek black engine. “Um, no. It’s…” You bite your lip, finally meeting his gaze. “It’s a really sexy bike,” you admit.

Jungkook grins proudly as he tosses his bangs out of his eyes, passing you a helmet. “Here. I have an extra.” He swings one leg over and straddles the bike, putting on his own helmet and sliding up the visor. “I know it’s not ideal and we might still get a bit wet, but…” He shrugs apologetically but you shake your head.

“No way, this is great,” you tell him, meaning it. “Better than what I was planning to do anyway. Walk,” you add when he looks at you questioningly. “Or run, more like.”

“You were going to run?” He looks at you disbelievingly. “Are you serious? And - come here, you’re wearing it wrong…” He gently pulls you closer by the forearm to tighten the buckle of your helmet under your chin. You tilt your head up slightly and stay still, noticing how his eyebrows furrow as he concentrates. You’re suddenly reminded of how you’d fixed his tie at the party and you bite your lip.

“Alright,” he says once he’s done. “Hop on.”

You grab his shoulder for support as you hoist yourself up to sit behind him, noticing once again how he seems to be built like a wall. Before you can help yourself, you wonder if he also feels like one. “Jungkook?” you lean forward over his shoulder. “Thank you for this.”

You can hear his grin. “Just hold on, alright? The rain can be… distracting.”

Hesitating for a fraction of a second, you wrap your arms around his torso. Yep. Just like a wall. A warm, hard, cologne-wearing wall.

---

“Careful!” Jungkook’s hand appears out of nowhere and grabs your forearm, preventing you from falling on the slippery pavement.

“I’m okay,” you gasp, taking more careful steps as you follow him up the steps and into the warmth of the pub - if you can call it that. It’s too small and not quite as busy or loud, but it is open and looks relatively clean. Moreover, it offers food and for now, it’s the equivalent of a five star.

“Do you want to get a table or something?” he asks, coming to stand by your side. “I’m just going to go check if the bike is parked properly.”

You nod, watching him leave. The entire place has maybe ten tables in total, mostly with folding chairs and rickety tables. It’s also relatively empty; given the time, you’re not surprised. The good thing about it, apart from the food, is that it doesn’t at all look like a place Jungkook will get recognised and once the rain started lashing down in torrents mid-ride, you knew you had to stop before he drove you both into a tree.

You head to one of the tables in the back that has slightly bigger armchairs facing each other and is situated next to a large window. Sinking into one of the chairs, you peel off your wet hoodie and drape it on the back, placing your helmet down. You’re finger-combing your tangled hair when you see Jungkook return, looking tall and broad next to the small furniture. When he spots you, his frown turns into a smile, and your stomach does another backflip.

“Everything okay?” you ask him when he reaches, taking a seat opposite you.

“Yeah. The rain is relentless, though,” he remarks, pointing at the window where the drops hit the glass with force. You notice then that he’s even wetter than he was before he left to park the bike. Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the back of his own chair, he shakes his wet hair like a dog. “Sorry,” he chuckles, noticing you flinch when some of the drops land on you. He leans back with a sigh, the white t-shirt also remarkably more transparent than before he left.

That’s alright, you want to say but for some reason the words don’t leave your mouth. “Can we get food, please?” you ask instead, not caring how whiny you sound. “Since we’re waiting out the rain anyway?”

“Of course,” he scoffs, already gesturing to the waitress. “Why do you think I agreed to stop? Uh, one fries, one Korean fried chicken and…” He turns to you. “What about you?”

You add shrimp tempura to the order and the waitress nods before leaving. You turn to Jungkook, who’s running his fingers through his wet hair. It’s vaguely distracting; your toes curl in your shoes as your gaze traces his tattoo sleeve, all the way from his wrist to his biceps after which it disappears under his sleeve. Everything about it is just…

“Big,” you murmur, realising only a moment later that you’ve said it out loud. When he looks up questioningly, you shake your head. “I just meant… your tattoos. They’re… very big.”

“Oh.” He twists his arm to look at it, as though observing this for the first time. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah, why not?”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t super approved of in service. I walked around a lot in full sleeves.”

You wince. “Do they have a problem with tattoos? My brother has them - he never mentioned anything.”

“Well… no. It’s not like they can ask us to get rid of them. I did have to take off the piercings, though.” He points to his face and you notice the lip ring and eyebrow stud, and you wonder how you could’ve missed them.

“You weren’t wearing that at the party, were you?”

He makes a face. “Too formal, apparently,” he mutters. “But I’m not taking them off for a second for the rest of this comeback,” he says stubbornly.

You can’t help but grin. “Good for you. And the tattoos are part of your brand anyway now…”

He grins back. “Do you have any?” he asks as the waitress arrives, placing three plates in between you two.

“I have five,” you confess, reaching for a hot fry and groaning in pleasure. “Damn, that’s the stuff.”

“Five?” Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up and he smiles in surprise, reaching for a piece of chicken. “Oh, that’s what I saw on your ankle when you got into my car. I thought it was an anklet or something. Wait, that’s three!”

You jump a bit, startled, as he chokes for a moment, wordlessly pumping his fist in the air as he coughs. “Jesus, Jungkook,” you mutter in exasperation, sliding his glass of water towards him. He grabs it and downs at least half of it before emerging, rosy-cheeked and grinning.

“That’s three,” he repeats. “You don’t like seafood, you like Harry Styles and you have a tattoo on your ankle,” he counts happily, giggling when you roll your eyes in grudging agreement. “Where are the other four, though?”

“If you couldn’t see them when I was in that dress, they’re probably in places I can’t show you just yet,” you quip, raising an eyebrow when he grins again.

“I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait,” he answers easily, even though you notice the tips of his ears reddening. “You want the last piece of chicken?” he asks, pointing to the plate.

“Go for it.”

Jungkook frowns, as though this response is out of syllabus. “Why? You let me have the last quiche that night, too. You can have it.”

“Jungkook,” you say slowly. “Just eat the damn chicken.” You watch him as he suspiciously picks it up and, pausing dramatically for a moment, tosses it in his mouth. “Good boy.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles through a mouthful of chicken. “It’s just weird. At the dorm we usually fight over every last piece so if someone’s offering you food… well, it usually means they’ve messed with it first.”

You chuckle. “Nah. I like feeding people,” you admit, a little embarrassed. “That sounds weird. I mean… I don’t know, I like it when people eat and are full and happy. I like the actual cooking part too but when I don’t have the time…” You hold up the last big fry, offering it to him, “... this is fine, too.”

He stares at you for a moment before silently reaching forward and accepting the fry. You’re glad he doesn’t fight you on it, but when his eyes don’t leave you, you frown. “What?”

“What? Nothing. Just…” He ducks his head and dips the fry into ketchup before popping it into his mouth, “... will you marry me?”

You scoff, throwing a tiny fry at him which he dodges and catches gracefully in his mouth. “You wish, Jeon.”

He smirks but doesn’t say anything else as both of you polish off all three plates and order bowls of ramen. “There’s just something about hot and soupy ramen when it’s raining,” says Jungkook wistfully, leaning back and looking out the window at the rain.

You regard him lazily, in a better mood now that you’ve been fed. “I thought you were on some monster diet for your comeback?”

“I am. Which is why today’s my cheat day. Or I’ve made it my cheat day, anyway,” he amends, shrugging, but you think he looks a little guilty.

“You can burn it off tomorrow,” you suggest lightly, hoping to reassure him a bit but also not wanting to come across as preachy. He simply nods in answer, not looking away from the window. It feels strange that he isn’t joking around, suddenly seeming uncharacteristically serious. You suddenly want to get him talking again. “How’s the comeback coming along?” you ask him after a moment.

“Not bad. It’s nice to be back in the studio,” he adds, and you’re glad to see a smile flit across his face. “I’m just worried about performing. Eventually.”

You frown. “Do you still get nervous about performing? After all these years?”

But he shakes his head. “No, not that…” He bites his lip, right next to the ring. You’re filled with the sudden urge to touch it. “It’s been two years since we left,” he confesses, finally turning to you and words tumbling out faster. “What if we don’t have any fans left? What if no one turns up?”

You’re a bit taken aback; you didn’t expect him to reveal all his deep, dark fears to you in a tiny pub. “Um…” You don’t know him that well, is the trouble. “Obviously I can’t relate… but as a person in the marketing department who was working on your comeback content until earlier this week, it doesn’t look like you’ve lost any fans. In fact, you may have gained a bunch.”

He’s hanging onto your every word, you realise, with his wide eyes and hopeful expression. At your statement, he gives you a grin, albeit a bit unsurely, but it makes you glad all the same. Your gazes linger for a moment on each other and just as it starts getting too long, the waitress brings you your steaming bowls of ramen.

Jungkook predictably dives for it without a second thought, frowning as he moans in pleasure, chopsticks gliding through the food with precision. You watch him for a few seconds, mildly fascinated, before attacking your own bowl.

“So, I have a question,” he states a little while later, once you’re both mostly done with your food, “and bear in mind that I’m just curious.” He waits for you to nod in agreement before continuing. “Why are you so determined not to go out with me?”

You frown. “I’m not determined to do anything. And I haven’t said no yet,” you remind him.

“Yeah, I know, but…” He trails off but you think you know what he means. You look down at your lap, trying not to feel guilty while he searches for the words. “It’s a game right now - and don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a challenge. And if you’re genuinely not into me, that’s fine, too. We can just be friends. I’m just... I don’t know. Curious.”

You shrug uneasily. “I told you last time. I work for Hybe and you work for Hybe - it can get really messy.”

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds, a hint of amusement on his face. “You remember the friend who convinced me to ask you out? Who said he recognised you from Hybe?” When you nod, he chuckles, mostly to himself. “Well, it turns out he recognised you because he used to date your friend Seulgi.”

Silence. Your brain freezes before going into overdrive, sorting through the memories at the speed of light. “Wait…” You frown deeply, sitting forward. “Seokjin told you to ask me out?”

“He can be quite persuasive,” comments Jungkook, sitting back with a satisfied smile. “But, yeah, Seokjin did. They dated ages ago apparently, before we all enlisted.”

You nod absently, for he’s right. You and Seulgi weren’t close then; she’d only just moved to your floor from the sales team and while you’d started working together, she hadn’t given you any details about her personal life until one evening, when your car wouldn’t start and it was getting late, she told you her boyfriend could give you a ride on their way to his apartment. It had taken you an embarrassing amount of time after you entered the car to realise who the person driving was. Kim Seokjin, in all his beauty and humour, was incredibly sweet to you, though - and, apparently, remembered you.

“Oh, God, that’s right,” you mutter, briefly reliving that night.

“Yeah. A person from your team dated a person from my band - and nothing happened,” he declares. “And I know you know that, so this coworkers reason you’re giving me…” He looks at you knowingly. “It’s not the real reason.”

“And you want the real reason,” you finish wryly, sighing.

He shrugs. “You don’t owe me an explanation. I was just wondering.”

You watch him as he fishes a small piece of meat from his mostly empty ramen bowl. “Do you remember what you told me that evening?”

Jungkook looks up. “Is this a trick question? Because the problem was literally that I didn’t say a single word to you.”

“Not on our date. After that, in the copy room.” When he simply cocks his head, frowning and looking like a child, you sigh, wondering if you’re really about to bring this up. “You told me your friend told you to ask me out so it would help you get over this other girl.” You continue watching him as the realisation dawns on him. You can tell he doesn’t quite understand the problem, but he’s at least identified the general area.

“Oh.”

“And, you know… far be it from me to not want to be your rebound -” You find yourself unable to avoid getting that in “- but I just… I have a very busy job and a tiny two-bedroom apartment I share with a roommate because I can’t afford the rent by myself and student loans… and I just don’t have the bandwidth for relationship drama.” It’s not the half of it but it’s all you’re willing to divulge to him right now.

There’s almost a minute of heavy silence as Jungkook presumably processes this. You sneak a glance at him; he’s staring at his lap, bangs falling on his forehead as he furrows his brow, tongue sticking out inside his cheek. Then, finally, he takes a deep breath.

“Lia, I’m - I’m sorry. I guess I should’ve been more upfront with you.” He pauses, looking thoughtful. “I also should’ve explained better. Look, I wasn’t mad that night because I liked someone else. I was mad because Seokjin got involved and kept pressuring me to get over her when I already was. Believe me, there’s nothing like a year and a half in service to give you some perspective,” he adds. “I’m serious, though. If that’s what you’re worried about… you don’t need to be. That’s over.”

You consider this. “Tell me something about her.”

His smile fades. “Why is that something we have to do?”

“Just.” When he simply continues to look bewildered, you roll your eyes. “Come on, it doesn’t have to be anything deep. Just any one detail, so I can think of her as a real person.”

“Um…” He shrugs wildly. “She likes video games.”

Huh. He’s right; you don’t know what you accomplished with this. In fact, you realise you can never actively tell him that you like video games as well, just in case he thinks you’re saying it because of this. Thankfully, the waitress comes back then, asking you both if you want a drink. For a moment you consider a beer but then quickly switch to hot chocolate. After a lingering look at you, Jungkook asks for the same.

“Alright, my turn,” you begin, clearing your throat. “Why are you so determined to get me to go out with you?”

Jungkook gives you a puzzled look. “Well, because I -” He breaks off and swallows, the apples of his cheeks reddening slightly.

You plough on, though, ignoring it. “I mean, I have to be honest. It was one bad date but we’re over it. We’re moving on but the fact that you asked me out again?” You bite your lip. “It feels a bit like a consolation date. Like a pity date.”

His jaw drops. “A pity date? That’s…” He seems to be lost for words. “Is - is that why you think I’m here?” He sounds more fearful than annoyed and his expression makes your heart clench unexpectedly.

“No, I didn’t - I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” you stutter, not knowing what just happened. “It’s kind of sweet in a way? That you want to make up for it? But you have to admit, it’s - it’s kind of weird. I mean, you don’t actually know me well enough to want a second date this badly for any other reason.”

Jungkook says nothing, simply frowning at you from across the table. It’s something like a glare, but he looks more annoyed with himself than you. “I saw you tip the waiter,” he says eventually, looking sullen. “The waiter, the one who spilled the drink on you. Most people would’ve got him fired. But you tipped him.”

You have to look away because his gaze is so intense. “He probably got in trouble anyway,” you mutter. “I didn’t know you saw that.”

He shrugs at his lap, playing with a loose thread at the end of his t-shirt and still looking moody. With his stature, not to mention the tattoos and piercings, he looks like a pouting villain on that silly American show you and your friends used to watch, about that comic. It makes you want to wrap him in a hug. “And you gave me the last piece of chicken and snuck out to get food for your friend Jieun. You’re a nice person. You’re hardworking - and by that I mean you’re always working,” he clarifies, rolling his eyes. “And you’re kind of funny when you’re not being mean,” he adds snarkily.

You bite your lip, trying really hard to stop the smile from forming on your face. But you give up when he continues looking anywhere but at you, his huge eyes taking away any and all edge he thinks he has. “Alright, point taken,” you concede softly, just wanting him to look at you again. When he nods sarcastically, still not looking at you, you huff in amusement. “Come on, are you really sulking?”

“No.”

“Look at your face, Jeon. What would your fans say if they saw the famous golden maknae in a bad mood because some girl who works with him accused him of offering her a pity date?”

“They’d say Oh, Jungkook oppa, I’ll go on that date with you,” he says immediately, putting on a fake high voice. “And I won’t even make fun of you when you tell me you like me because I think you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

You snort, bursting into laughter as the waitress brings your hot chocolate. “Firstly, oppa? I think that answers your question all in itself.”

He gives you an unimpressed look. “Please. I know I made that noona joke at the party but I couldn’t give a shit about your age. In fact, I don’t even think you give a shit about your age.”

Unable to come up with a retort to this rather true statement, you simply shrug and take a sip of your hot chocolate, sighing. “I think you’re cute, too,” you admit casually after a moment, keeping your eyes on the creamy chocolate.

“Liar,” he accuses, but seems to be in a slightly better mood now that he has a sip of sugar in his system. “So, anyway. You tipped the waiter. That’s the answer.”

“I tipped the waiter,” you murmur thoughtfully. Then something occurs to you. “Hey, that’s four, by the way.”

“What? Oh. Yeah, it is,” he chuckles softly, but he seems remarkably less excited than when he got the third. “But honestly, I’m just afraid if I don’t get this date, I’ll never get my hoodie back.”

You groan dramatically and roll your eyes as he laughs, making your stomach flip at the sight of him finally smiling. “You know what? When you drop me back to my apartment now, I will personally hand it back to you,” you promise. “Oh, God, unless there’s a stupid party going on right now.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Your roommate’s having a party?”

“Always is,” you groan, shaking your head. “I’d say I disapprove, but I’m mostly just jealous of people who can party on Saturdays.”

“Is that something you enjoy? Partying?” He bounces his shoulders to invisible beats, like he’s at a club.

You giggle at the sight. “Party, play FIFA. Same thing.” You internally cringe when you realise what you’ve said and scramble to cover it up. “Or even a second date. You never know,” you add teasingly.

He nods thoughtfully. “Or third date, actually. Technically, you can count this as a second date,” he informs you, gesturing to the table full of empty plates between you. “Didn’t kill you, right?”

You scoff. “This is not a date.”

“What do you mean? We’re at a restaurant - kind of. We shared a meal. We’re having a beverage,” he points out, tapping his mug knowingly.

“We didn’t - we ended up sharing a meal,” you correct him. “What we’re doing is waiting for the rain to stop.”

“The rain stopped thirty minutes ago.”

You can feel all vestiges of expression leave your face as you whip your head to look out the window next to you, heart thudding as you realise he’s right. “I - when did you realise?”

Jungkook smirks, making his lip ring glint in the dim light and your toes curl inside your shoes. Taking another sip of his hot chocolate, he pretends to think. “Somewhere around the time you said you like feeding me because I look full and happy.”

“That is not what I said,” you say forcefully, feeling your cheeks burn. “But I guess this is as good a time as any to head out, right?” Before he can protest, you stand up. “I’m going to go pay. Finish your hot chocolate,” you tell him as he looks up at you with his big eyes, about to stand up as well. At the last moment, you ruffle his hair sarcastically before walking away.

“We should’ve split the check,” he says when you return a couple of minutes later, reaching for your hoodie.

“You’re only here because I asked you for a favour,” you remind him. “I owe you.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment before nodding, making no move to get up. “That’s fair. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now, come on, put on your jacket. Let’s go.”

“I’m not done with my drink yet.”

You peer into his mug. “Yes, you are. There’s only dregs left at the bottom.”

“That’s the chocolate,” he says seriously. “It’s the best part of the -”

“Well, then finish it quickly, we need to -”

“No, it’s meant to be enjoyed slowly, with a spoon and -”

But when you give him a look, he rolls his eyes and heaves a big sigh before reaching for a spoon and scooping up the remains of his drink.

“Thank you,” you say, grabbing his hand and pulling him up, leading him out of the pub with his jacket in his other hand.

“You are so bossy, you know that?” he grumbles half-heartedly as you step outside, the chilly breeze hitting your face.

“Don’t pretend you don’t kind of like it.” You only intend to quip but in the light from the lone street lamp outside, you see his ears redden again and you feel a light, slow burn in your abdomen that you haven’t felt in a long time. You watch him a bit shamelessly as he throws on his leather jacket again and climbs the bike before donning his helmet.

“Need some help with that?” he asks, pointing to the one in your hand.

“No, it’s -” You begin automatically before pausing. “Yeah. Sure.” You walk up to him and place it on your head, standing still as he adjusts the buckle, only his eyes visible under the visor. You imagine the lip ring slightly lower and, just like a while back, feel the need to touch it.

“Alright, you’re good,” he says after a few seconds, patting the top of your helmet lightly. You look up at him, once again registering how tall he is, and his comment about how age means nothing suddenly seems truer than ever.

“Thanks,” you murmur, stepping aside and going to climb up behind him. You lean forward to show him the map on your phone, pointing to the important turns on the ten minute journey to your apartment, smelling his faint cologne as he turns slightly to look.

You hold onto him once again as he takes off, the streets still wet and the winds still cool, but with no rain drenching you. You’re actually able to enjoy the ride this time, feeling the breeze through your tangled hair, resting your chin lightly against Jungkook’s shoulder and allowing yourself to close your eyes now that you’re certain he doesn’t have visibility issues. He’s actually built like a wall, you think again, feeling his back flex against your chest every time he takes a turn.

“Do you want to take a slight detour?” he asks, turning his head very slightly, voice cutting through the wind like music.

“Yes,” you reply, eyes still closed. Your arms tighten around him as he goes straight instead of left, eventually reaching the main road. Given the time, the streets are mostly empty and the bike zooms through, slightly faster than before. I love riding, he’d said to you earlier this evening although it seems like ages ago. If someone had told you then that you’d be straddling his sexy bike behind him, arms wrapped around his steady torso so you could feel every ridge of lean muscle underneath his t-shirt, or how your knees would be brushing his thigh, your pelvis pressed against his hips - and that you liked it… well, you would’ve been hard pressed to believe it.

You’re not sure how much longer he continues riding at the same speed. At one point you pull away from him a bit, hands resting lightly on his waist, so you can feel the wind better. When he takes a sudden turn, your eyes snap open as you’re jerked forward, your arms automatically going around him again and you realise he’s taking you home. An uncomfortable feeling of disappointment settles in your stomach as you approach your apartment.

“It’s just up here,” you tell him as he slows down, before coming to a complete halt in front of a three-storey building. Your eyes go directly to the second floor as you get off and you groan softly when you see the flashing red and blue lights, realising the stupid party is still going on.

Jungkook’s eyes follow yours as he takes off his helmet, running a hand through his black hair before it falls gracefully over his forehead. “Party still happening?” he asks, sounding part amused and part sympathetic.

“Yeah,” you mutter, taking off your own helmet and knowing that the rain has probably made it wavy. Lightly fluffing it out, you hand the helmet back to him. “It’s okay, though. The music doesn’t seem that loud so I can probably get some sleep.”

He nods, climbing off as well and leaning back against the bike. He looks… hot, you acknowledge. You can’t not, especially after that bike ride. He looks winded, but in a good way. Cheeks rosy, hair ruffled, expression slightly dazed - he looks beautiful.

You break the silence. “Thanks for the ride. Really. I appreciate it.”

“I had fun,” he says, shrugging.

“Me, too,” you reply honestly, smiling up at him. He smiles back and the movement makes the lip ring glint again. Maybe it’s the tiredness, maybe it’s the bike ride that took your breath away, but you finally throw caution to the wind and reach up to touch the lip ring with your thumb.

He stays still, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he watches you. “Doesn’t this get in the way?” you ask, dropping your hand back to your side.

The frown remains for a moment before he smirks. “In the way of what?” he asks innocently.

Your cheeks heat up and you try to suppress a smile. “Okay, that’s a no,” you guess, looking away as he chuckles. You expect him to crack a joke about how you might find out soon enough but when he doesn’t, you look up at him in mild curiosity to see him still looking down at you, gaze intense as it falls slowly to your mouth before snapping back up. “Any plans for tomorrow?” you ask quickly.

“Um, studio,” is all he says. “Practice and then recording.”

“On a Sunday?” you ask, even though you know well enough that weekends mean nothing to artists.

“Yeah,” he answers, shoving his hands into his pockets. “For the next couple of weeks, at least.”

“You can’t take a day off?”

He chuckles, as though the idea is unheard of. “I’m supposed to meet Suga hyung tomorrow. He doesn’t believe in cancelling studio appointments on short notice.”

“Glad I texted you in time today, I guess.” You raise your eyebrows teasingly and he smiles, biting his lip. It makes your toes curl in your shoes again, and he suddenly feels taller.

Pressing his hands deeper into his pockets and looking down at the ground, he takes a deep breath. “So, um, do you think -”

“Lia!”

Jungkook’s head snaps up a fraction of a second before yours whips around to see the source of the voice.

“Hey, you were gone for a while,” he comments, patting your shoulder. “Everyone was asking about you.” He looks up then to see Jungkook and nods politely before sticking out a hand. “Hey, man.”

You turn to see Jungkook nod automatically before looking down at you. “Jungkook, this is Dal. My roommate.” Next to you, Dal frowns and Jungkook seems to remember then that he hasn’t moved a muscle.

“Hey,” he replies finally, shaking Dal’s hand. You notice they’re of the same height.

Turning to you, Dal points towards the party. “I’m just going across the street to stock up on mixers. Anything you want?”

“Oh, no,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’s been a long day. I’m just going to crash.”

Dal frowns. “You’re still on for tomorrow, right? Suho already dropped out.”

“I’m in, for sure.”

“Cool.” With a good-natured smile, he looks up at Jungkook. “You should join, too, if you can. You play basketball, right?”

Jungkook raises his eyebrows, like he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to at all. Before he can open his mouth, you jump in. “Oh, Jungkook is… he’s really busy tomorrow. I don’t know if he wants to -”

“No, I’m in,” interrupts Jungkook, looking from you to Dal and nodding. “Sounds fun.”

“Great,” says Dal, smiling and probably meaning it. “We’ll have even teams now. Alright, I’ll be back in a bit,” he tells you before nodding to Jungkook. “See you tomorrow, mate.” As he jogs away, you turn to look slowly to look at Jungkook.

“You know, you really don’t have to come,” you assure him. “I know you’re busy with your comeback and stuff.”

“No, I’ll be there,” he says, still watching Dal as he disappears down the street before turning back to you. “So that’s your roommate.”

“Yeah,” you answer slowly, having an inkling of where this is going. “I thought you had to go to the studio tomorrow. What happened to ‘Suga hyung doesn’t believe in cancelling studio appointments’?”

“I’ll go after the - the game? Match?” he guesses, looking uncertain. “Anyway, he likes basketball, too; he’ll understand. And how come you’re going? Don’t you have a huge presentation to finish?”

You’d only mentioned it in passing so you’re surprised he remembers. “I do. But I never miss basketball Sundays. Ever. For anything.”

Jungkook nods, looking impressed… and something else. “Great. I won’t either.” He keeps looking at you, as though daring you to discourage him again. When you simply fold your arms across your chest and nod in resignation, he takes a deep breath. “So… what does he do? Dal?” he clarifies when you raise your eyebrows.

“Oh. He’s… he’s a physical trainer,” you reply, somewhat anticipating his reaction when he nods stiffly and - you’re not sure if you’re imagining this - flexes his arms and chest slightly. “Listen, seriously, Jungkook. Are you sure you want to come?”

“Yes,” he repeats. “Dal invited me, didn’t he? I’m good at sports. It’s all good.”

No, it isn’t. But he’s right when he says he’s good at sports. In fact, from what you’ve heard, he’s good at most things. You tilt your head to the side. You also remember something else, about a girl who likes video games and your heart twists unexpectedly. “Okay,” you say finally, just as you notice Dal returning, a plastic bag in his hands. Jungkook turns around as well and you hear him exhale through his nose.

“Oh, you’re still here,” remarks Dal, reaching you both and smiling. “I’m heading up,” he tells you. “Are you coming?”

“Uh… yeah.” You look up at Jungkook, suddenly wishing Dal had waited a few more minutes before returning, or that he’d leave now. But for a moment both men look expectantly at you, albeit for different reasons, until Jungkook breaks the silence.

“I should head out, too,” he says, but looking only at you as you nod.

“Cool. Will we see you tomorrow?” Dal asks and you wince internally at how pronounced the word we sounds.

Jungkook seems to have picked up on it, too. “Absolutely. Text me the address,” he says, once again speaking only to you as he takes a step back towards his bike. Then, casually, as though he’s done it a million times before, he lowers his head and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight,” he says easily to you and Dal, climbing onto his bike and backing it onto the street before riding away.

---

“I’m going to ask you one more time: are you sure?”

“Yes, my God. Next left?”

“Yeah, onto the dirt road.” You press the phone to your ear and turn around when you hear the smooth sound of a car engine. The same black Hyundai that picked you for a date months ago appears in view, turning into the makeshift parking space and stopping next to Dal’s silver Renault. You bring your phone down and walk towards the car, feeling your stomach do a small backflip when the driver’s door opens and a familiar figure steps out.

“How was the drive?” you ask when you reach him, motioning for him to follow you onto the court.

“Short,” is all he says, depositing his car keys and cell phone with the others next to the water bottles and extra basketball. “Should we stretch?”

You nod, following his lead as he grabs his elbow behind his head, warming up his shoulders and back. You begin stretching your calves as the others in your group trudge in as well, a mix of your and Dal’s mutual friends, his work friends whom you barely know, Jungkook, and another girl you’ve never seen before. You’re eight in total; everyone greets each other as they spread out on the court, the breeze cool and light. The sun is a dark orange, about thirty minutes away from setting so it’s only a matter of time before the flood lights switch on.

“How long have you been coming here?” Jungkook asks you when you’re both on the ground, reaching forward and over to touch your toes. His legs look long and muscular under his loose black shorts, arms just like you remember them from last night under a near-identical white t-shirt. Your eyes linger on his tattoo sleeve before you force yourself to meet his gaze.

“A couple of years,” you answer, stretching forward. Sitting up, you tug your tank top slightly higher to cover your cleavage and look up to see Jungkook quickly turn away as well. “We, uh… I mean, I haven’t played a lot since high school so this is a good way to get back.”

At that moment, Dal comes over, in loose black shorts like Jungkook’s and a sleeveless Kobe jersey. His arms are toned and bulky as ever, but with the amount of time you’ve known him for, you’re desensitized to it. “Lee-lee,” he says by way of greeting, clapping you on the back and using your oldest nickname. “Same team as last time? You, me, Baekhyun, Donghyuk?”

“Oh -” You turn uncertainly in Jungkook’s direction. “Since Jungkook's new, I was going to ask him, actually, if he wanted to be in the same -”

“No, no, that’s alright,” interrupts Jungkook, shaking his head. "You should stay in your team. I'm good with anyone."

"Sounds good," says Dal, motioning for him to get up. "Come on, I'll introduce you to them.” He smiles good-naturedly as Jungkook gets to his feet, dusting himself off.

“Who’s the new girl, by the way?” you ask quickly, the thought suddenly occurring to you that Jungkook might be recognised. None of the people you know here really listen to pop music much, let alone be able to identify idols in a casual setting, but you feel yourself worrying anyway.

“- back in the - oh, that’s Baekhyun’s new girlfriend. Or something,” answers Dal, turning back to you momentarily as both men walk away. “You should meet her, too. And - chill. She seems fine so far.”

Your eyes dart to Jungkook who seems to understand what’s on your mind. But he doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, don’t worry, Lee-lee,” he says simply, giving you a rather nonchalant smile.

“I’m not worrying,” you mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes as you scramble to your feet and follow them. After a brief round of introductions, everyone spreads out into their sides of the court, deciding within their teams which four positions to assign. As you and Jungkook walk to the middle of the court, you lean up to him once more. “Are you good?”

He frowns mildly, looking down at you. “Yeah. Why?”

You don’t answer. You feel somewhat responsible for him, having brought him here, even as you acknowledge that Dal was the one that invited him and he accepted of his own free will. “Just… watch out for Donghyuk, alright? He can get pretty aggressive with the ball.”

Jungkook looks almost amused at your tone. You think he’s about to make a joke, probably adding a Lee-lee at the end of it for shits and giggles, but he simply touches your shoulder. “Relax,” he says, his face softening slightly. “I’ll be okay.”

You nod, not knowing what else to say as you separate. When you turn around in your position to face the other team, your eyes automatically go to Jungkook. He might be right; he certainly looks like he belongs here. Tall, fit and braced in position, you have to admit he looks pretty fantastic. Even when Baekhyun and his girlfriend Nari, on opposite teams, jump for the ball and the game begins, you spot Jungkook jogging to presumably cover another one of his teamates, looking like a natural athlete on the court.

That is, until he gets the ball in his hands. Somehow, somewhere, the ball gets passed to him and he seems to catch it as a reflex before his eyes go wide at the realisation that he has to make the next move. Basketball is a fast, blink-and-you-miss-it kind of game, though, so by the time Jungkook unfreezes and begins dribbling the ball, Donghyuk has already sprinted and smoothly gained control of it, giving it a couple of expert dribbles before shooting a clean three-pointer.

Dal and Baekhyun cheer and you know you should, too, but all you can see is Jungkook’s guilty expression as he apologetically shakes his head at his teammates. It sends a pang through your heart, how lost he looks - and it only gets worse from then on. As the game progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that while Jungkook probably is the golden maknae and good at most things, basketball isn’t one of them. In fact, when Nari from the other team corners and asks you in a low voice if it’s his first time, you grudgingly have to tell her that yes, it is.

As the sky darkens, so does the game. Your group isn’t a rough one in general; you all play for fun, getting competitive only in a friendly, good-natured way. However, you all are competitive. The trouble is, so is Jungkook, apparently. His frustration with himself is clearly visible and there’s more than one moment during the game when you consider calling a time-out and inventing an excuse for you both to leave so that the teams remain even.

But you know it won’t work. Being rubbish at something seems to only spur him on, as though determined to figure the game out. You wince every time he bangs into someone and when he trips and falls, taking his teammate Jiwon down with him while Dal gracefully performs a layup behind them, Baekhyun has to actively grab your arm to stop you from running over to him. As for you, you make it your mission to tackle everyone on the opposing team but him, just not finding the heart to kick him while he’s down.

When the game starts to reach its conclusion, you sigh internally in relief, panting a little as you jog back to your position. You tighten your ponytail as your eyes search for Jungkook, who’s also starting to look rather sick of this game but determined to see it through. He tosses his hair out of his eyes and his eyebrow stud glints when the light catches it. Even now, he looks gorgeous.

As though he can hear you, his eyes dart to yours and you see a small smile start to form on his face. You’re about to return it when you see Donghyuk beginning the game from the corner of your eye - heading straight in Jungkook’s direction. Your eyes widen in warning a second before he smiles.

---

“Ready to go?” Dal zips up his jacket and turns expectantly to you.

In answer, you look towards the lone figure sitting on the outer ledge of the court, hunched over his knees as he holds his hand to his face. “I’ll just be a few more minutes,” you tell Dal, who nods in understanding. “Thanks for the ice pack.”

“No problem. He seems like a nice guy.” Dal gives you a knowing look. “I’ll wait in my car.”

“Okay. And… tell Donghyuk to take it a bit easy maybe?” you suggest, trying and failing to keep the annoyance out of your voice.

“Oh, yeah, because that’s worked so well in the past.” Rolling his eyes, Dal walks away as you make your way over to Jungkook.

When you reach him, you stand before him for a moment before sinking to your knees, keeping them hovering above the ground. “Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“‘M fine,” he mutters, voice slightly muffled by the ice pack he’s holding to his nose with his tattooed hand. You scan his face quickly; there’s nothing visibly wrong but your guilt goes much deeper than an injury.

“Jungkook.” You pause when he deliberately doesn’t meet your eyes. “Dal is just my roommate. We’ve been friends since high school.”

He stiffens at your words, gaze freezing somewhere around your shoulder. “Why are you telling me this?” he asks after a moment.

You can’t help but roll your eyes slightly at this, not dignifying his question with an answer, partly because it’s ridiculous and partly because you don’t know what to say to convince him how unfounded his jealousy is. Reaching up, you gently brush his sweaty bangs off his forehead. “You can’t play basketball,” you sigh.

Jungkook scoffs before wincing in pain. “No shit. Did the ball I took to the face give you a hint?”

“No, I mean…” Confession time. “I know you can’t play basketball. You told me so on our date.” When he finally looks at you, frowning in surprise, you nod. “I think it was the only thing you told me about yourself that night.”

“I did?”

“Yeah. I’d watched Remember The Titans that day and when I asked if you’d seen it, you said, “What kind of a loser watches a movie about a sport he doesn’t play?””

He groans. “God, I was a dick,” he mutters, shaking his head.

You shrug. “Yeah, well… today I was a dick.” When he doesn’t respond, you sigh again. “Seriously, though, Jungkook. Why did you insist on coming today?”

He swallows and his gaze darts towards something behind you before looking away. You don’t have to turn to know what he’s looking at, for behind you is the parking lot with a silver Renault in it, and you had an inkling it would come to this ever since Dal showed up outside your apartment last night.

“I’m good at most sports,” he says eventually, and you can hear the underlying frustration at the fact that he wasn’t today. “Didn’t know I’d break my face in this one.”

You give him a small smile, reaching up to gently move the ice pack away from his skin. “Don’t worry. It’s not bleeding and it doesn’t look like anything is broken so I think you’ll be fine.”

There’s a few moments where neither of you speak. Then Jungkook bites his lip. “What about you? Why didn’t you say anything when you knew I couldn’t play?”

It’s your turn to look away guiltily. “I wanted to see if you’d come,” you confess, looking at the ground. “And... I like video games, too, I guess.” You wait for him to respond to that but he doesn’t, and you think he understands, that jealousy - or insecurity - works both ways and if anything, you wanted to see if you were worth the challenge. Eventually you look up at him, turning his face gently by the chin and inspecting it. “You should go to the hospital, though.”

His eyes widen. “You just said everything’s fine!”

“I said there’s no blood and it doesn’t look like anything is broken,” you correct him. “But you still need to get it checked out. The doctor will give you some anaesthesia and your pain will -”

“Oh, hell no. I don’t like needles.”

You squint in disbelief. “You have, like, a hundred tattoos.”

“That’s different. I don’t like medical needles.”

“Fine. Power through the pain, then. But you need an X-ray or an MRI to make sure there’s nothing -”

“No, I don’t - I don’t like those machines.”

You exhale in exasperation. “You just got back from the army. Are you really afraid of an MRI machine?”

“I’m not afraid,” he protests, frowning stubbornly. “They’re just claustrophobic.”

“Well, you know what? You may not have a choice,” you half-snap, eyes flickering towards the figure approaching behind him, “because I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s… wait, that’s Suga, right?”

Jungkook turns to see his band member, dressed in jeans and a sweater and stopping tactfully some distance away when he sees you two, and nods. “Yeah, I told him I’d be here… and to come pick me up if I wasn’t back by seven.”

“What, did you think we were going to murder you or something?”

“If Donghyuk had his way, probably.” He points to his face. “I wasn’t totally off base.”

“Wow, that’s a - that’s a great way to get your friends to hate me,” you inform him, feeling your stomach churn.

But Jungkook simply shakes his head. "You play basketball. He'd really like you. Plus, he's got that whole sarcastic thing going, too, like you."

You grin. "Good. It means he'll make sure you get your ass to the hospital without running away before you get there."

He gives you a look. "You think I can't outrun him?"

You smile even wider, so, so endeared. "I'm sure you can." Brushing back his bangs again, you continue. "Anyway, like I was saying, you should really go to the hospital."

"But -"

"Go, get your scans done, take the pills they'll probably give you for the pain…" You adjust yourself where you’re sitting on the balls of your foot, “... and when you’re done and okay… let me know when you can pick me up for that second date.”

Silence. Jungkook slowly lowers the ice pack. “What?” Then he narrows his eyes. “Wait, is this a pity date?” he asks suspiciously. “Because I broke my face and you feel bad?”

“Dramatic much? You did not break your face,” you remind him, scowling. “And -” You slap him on the shoulder, making him gasp, “- don’t use my accusations against me!”

“Then why? I’ve only remembered four things,” he says, eyes big and dark.

“Forget the fifth,” you tell him lightly. “You’ve more than made up for it.” You realise it’s true, and you’re not just talking about the basketball fiasco. You look up to see him looking intently at you, chewing at his lower lip as though coming to a decision.

“I remember the fifth.” When you frown, he nods and you think he looks a little bashful. “You like Caffeta coffee.”

You blink. “What?”

“A sachet fell out of your bag in my car when you left that night,” he explains. “It was a red one… vanilla roast, I think? Anyway, I’d recognise that anywhere. There’s only one other person I know who’s that obsessed with coffee.”

You nod in a daze, knowing that Jung Hoseok is famous around Hybe for his caffeine preferences. “Would this have anything to do with the miraculously fixed coffee machine in the marketing department and Caffeta sachets that are somehow only on our floor…?”

“I’ve become pretty good friends with the kitchen staff over the years.”

“But…” You try to remember. “Jungkook, that was days ago. Why didn’t you say anything? You would’ve finished the game… well, yesterday.”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “I wanted to hang out,” is all he says, and with a rush of affection for him, you understand what he’s saying. What you were telling yourself as a comfort, that you could still say no to a date even if he finished the challenge, is what he was afraid of. You don’t know what to say to that, so you lean forward and silently press a kiss to his cheek.

Maybe your jealousy is unfounded, too. When his cheeks redden slightly and he visibly suppresses a smile, you wonder in mild exasperation and fondness how on earth getting hit in so many different ways by a basketball can still make him look this angelic.

“Alright, you should go now,” you tell him softly, tapping his knee. “You have a comeback soon; you don’t need anything going wrong with your pretty face while you’re on stage.”

Jungkook grins. “You think my face is - ow!” He winces and covers his nose, frowning in pain.

“Okay, don’t - don’t smile,” you advise him indulgently, taking the ice pack from him and slowly touching it to his nose. “And, come on, this can’t be the first time you’ve heard this. The whole world thinks your face is pretty.” You look at him to see him raising his eyebrows behind the ice pack, eyes wide and expectant. You roll your eyes. “But, yes, I think your face is pretty, too.”

He seems incapable of not smiling so you simply gesture to him to keep the ice pack pressed to his face as you both stand up.

You brush his elbow with your fingers. "Go. And - and text me later? To let me know if everything's fine?" You wait for him to nod and he holds the ice pack out to you. "No, keep it."

But he shakes his head. "I'd rather not," he says, looking up at you as though expecting you to insist but you don't argue. Taking it, you nod at Suga behind him as he raises a hand in acknowledgment. “How will you get home?”

“I’m going with Dal,” you reply, pointing with your thumb in the direction of the car park.

“He’s in the car? Right now?” When you say yes, he simply nods thoughtfully, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“What?” you ask, a little teasingly. “You’re not going to kiss me this time?”

As expected, the tips of his ears begin to redden but he keeps his expression calm. “Nope. Not when I can’t use my face properly.”

“Alright. Make sure it’s alright for our date, then. Our third date, I guess.” Then, just to see him blush again, you wink. “And you know what happens on the third date.”

“Suddenly, I’m glad it’s just my face that got hit.”

You laugh, noting how he smiles and winces again. You don’t know how you ended up here, truly and fully crushing on the worst date of your life. His thoughts seem to be in the same territory as he looks at you, and you both take a step towards each other and come together in a hug.

“Take care of your face, Jeon,” you murmur against his shoulder. He smells faintly of his cologne, of grass and sweat, and you hold him a little tighter. “And don’t skip any pills.”

His arms feel impossibly strong and steady around your torso. Feeling the initial stirrings of warmth between your legs, you start to pull away but he tightens his grip, making you stay for a few more moments before letting you go. At the last moment, almost like he can’t help himself, he kisses your cheek.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes flickering behind you, not sounding sorry at all.

“Uh-huh.” You shake your head, not fooled. “Goodnight, Kook. Let me know what happens in the scary MRI machine.”

“Evil,” he calls out, walking backwards. You watch him get into his car with Suga as you reach Dal’s, getting into the passenger seat and strapping yourself in, cheeks warm and tingly. Just as he pulls out, you take out your phone to remind Jungkook of one last thing.

Me [19:28]

Oh, also? If you wear that stupid baseball cap on our date this time, I’m going to light it on fire and watch it burn.

~Fin~

Taglist: @bbl32, @ggukkieland, @bangtannoonalvg, @pb-n-juju

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)

Jungkook

𝐎𝐟𝐟-𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 | Hitskip

"Finding someone who can take care of what you love most when you're no longer able to is a final act of love- and not giving up."

Tags/Warnings: Police Officer!Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, Partners to lovers?, Alternate law-system/made up laws, crime, futuristic, sci-fi, body-modifications, Fluff, romance, Adult themes (sex, alcohol, mentions of drugs but no consumption), Comedy?, Angst, injury

Length: gonna be added later

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Despite basically living together, you and Jungkook aren't really all that close.

You've never went on vacation together or even on a day-trip, mainly due to insurance reasons considering you're owned by the police department, and not Jungkook himself. There's been too many accidents and problems in the past, forcing those rules onto handlers nowadays, and some might argue that it's for the better. The more professional you stay with your partner, the more professional you stay during work as well-

But Jungkook has worries.

Mostly because, while you'll probably be able to stay in service for another ten years maybe, he himself has to resign much sooner rather than later. He's got maybe a year left until his contract ends- and he's been told that to resign it, he will have to go through a rigorous process of evaluation again.

A process he most likely won't pass, due to his past injuries and resulting body mods to keep him mobile.

He's already looking for a potential new handler once he leaves- Taehyung being one of those he's got his eye on, though the new officer might not be the best fit for you, considering how he constantly seems caught off guard by your honestly very normal behavior as a police hybrid. You're not a pet down the line. You're not meant to be cuddly and cute and well behaved- you're meant to take down criminals, fight, and protect, most of all.

Seokjin is out of the question too, since he's got Yoongi- and he's still very much fit for work, despite his previously injured shoulder. He didn't need anything other than a regular operation- now he's back in service, more capable than ever.

Jimin doesn't want to do the handler training- he admits himself that he'd get too attached, and that would just harm his performance and put others in danger.

So who the hell is Jungkook supposed to choose? He doesn't want to just.. leave, and let you be alone until the department decides that you're unfit for anyone else, just for you to end up in a shelter where no one's gonna pick you up because who wants an aggressive former policedog hybrid?

"Jungkook?" You wonder, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, noticing your upper lip bleeding.

"What happened?" He instantly worries, hands carefully holding your face, thump inspecting your little cut that's bleeding. "Hm?" He asks after letting go to let you talk.

"I don' no'-" You fumble a little, trying not to move your lip too much. "I a'e an' use' a new s'oon" You stumble, and he gets up to grab a tissue for you to hold against it, before he walks towards the kitchen table to inspect the spoon you were talking about, running his finger over the edges-

finding a manufacturing error, tiny metal part not rounded properly, sticking out very sharply- so much so that it almost cuts him too.

"We'll wait a little, if it doesn't stop we'll see someone for it, okay?" He asks, moving the tissue a bit to inspect it- noticing that it's not that deep at all. The most challenging part will most likely rather be for you not to lick it constantly- that's gonna be a pain for him to control.

Well, maybe it was for the best that he didn't get the vacation with you.

He'll have to inspect all the cutlery now anyways, before he can let you eat again.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Sometimes, Jungkook likes to dream.

What would a life be like if he just.. lived normally together with you? If he was just a regular part of this community, and not an officer feared for all the things people in the same uniform have done in the past?

Maybe you wouldn't be so scarred up from knifes and bullets having pierced your skin. Maybe he wouldn't have to wear his own bodymods- maybe you'd both just be normal, and unaware of the horrors human kind can make reality sometimes. But that's not your shared reality- yours is right now, as Jungkook keeps a hold on back straps of your bulletproof vest and harness you wear to hold you back, waiting for the signal to let you inside the house to search for drugs or other illegal substances. They're currently escorting multiple men out the pretty run-down place to make it safer- when he gets the command over his in-ear piece to let you in. "Alright, let's go." He tells you, letting you go so you can immediately run into the house, checking the living room first.

Your hands move the pillows on the couch, eyes frantically moving in concentration, ears moving and tail wagging. He knows it's actually not from excitement, but to 'move' scent around that might've settled somewhere so you can notice it better. Once you catch something, for example, your tail stills as to not disturb the trail, and not interrupt any traces by moving them around.

You're currently on your hands and knees looking beneath the coffee table, before you move again to walk into the next room- the connecting kitchen on the other side of the main entrance hall. It's cluttered, and Jungkook has to watch out as to not slip on any of the trash, gun still drawn in his hand as a safety precaution, just in case. You're tripping a little here and there, looking and sniffing around, tail going left to right at a rapid pace.

You leave the kitchen, make your way upstairs to the bedrooms, entering one of them on the left side. Jungkook follows, notices how your tail suddenly stops, a clear sign that you've picked up something specific. You're supposed to be searching for drugs right now- and so Jungkook watches now with his gun lowered as you look around more specifically, walking one step, evaluating, walking another step, repeat. You're reacting to something, and he wonders what it might be.

Unbeknownst to him, you found something entirely other than drugs.

You're suddenly sitting down in front of a closet, looking over your shoulder towards him, who walks closer to you now, running a hand over your head. "Good job. What's in here?" He asks, pointing before opening, and you reach out to prevent him from doing so.

"RDX." You tell him, and his eyes widen as he helps you up and instantly away from the closet.

"We found something." Jungkook tells into his ear piece, earning the response to clarify what exactly was found. "Highly possibly explosives. Hybrid indication in the upstairs guest bedroom, inside a blue wooden closet." He explains, receiving the response that a bomb squat has been notified to take care of the potential issue, and to get out of the house immediately. Jungkook does just that, taking your hand to rush out, coworkers outside already having evacuated the immediate area.

"Jungkook?" You wonder, and he instantly turns to check up on you, remembering that he did not give you appropriate positive reinforcement either due to the sudden tension of the situation. It's then that you hold out your hand, drop of blood running down from it. "…can I have a plaster maybe?" You ask meekly, and he instantly holds your hand to take a look at the injury.

"How'd that happen pup-.." He somewhat swallows the petname down, hissing a bit at the nasty wound. "Can you move your fingers?" He asks, and you nod, curling them each to show it to him.

"I didn't cut myself- I think my hand got caught on something maybe when I searched the kitchen.." You mumble, ears lowered and tail between your legs.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, well aware that it has to- skin already red and bruised around the cut skin. You shake your head, but once look at him makes your eyes tear up and bottom lip tremble.

Well, down the line, you're also just a living being with thoughts and feelings, and this is also a side that he's come to know about you. The more.. private one, the one that's usually only presented when you're not on duty.

"Alright come on, then, let's wrap something around that for now, okay?" He soothes, smiling softly as he leads you back to the car.

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Considering how fearless you are in the eye of danger, running after any criminal no matter what without any hesitation, Jungkook can't help but laugh a little as you sniffle into his chest, hiding in his sweater now while your wound is getting stitched in the emergency room. You're quietly whimpering while he runs a hand over your back, nurse smiling amused at the whole scene. "Almost done." He soothes, watching how the nurse finishes up the last few stitches before she cleans it again, and wraps it up.

"Alright, there we go!" The nurse says. "Looks like she's gonna get some time off." She smiles, unable to hide her motherly instincts as you look at her with tearful eyes now, pulling your hand towards you now as if to hide it. "It should be fine in a few days, but since it's in a spot that has a lot of movement, I'd say at least for the rest of the week she shouldn't move it too much." She tells Jungkook, who nods.

Back home, and with the knowledge that you'll truly have time off for an entire week, the actual challenges begin. You're not supposed to move your hand, and you know that- but that doesn't mean you won't try and still use it anyways. You're currently climbing on the kitchen counter, attempting to raid the upper cabinet where Jungkook keeps your favorite snacks- but he's quick in his reflexes, tugging you back and putting you down onto the floor again with your feet.

He can't even really be mad at you.

You're not used to being 'home' like this. You don't know the rules, or general manners- that's something you've not been taught, because as a police hybrid, it's not necessary. One of the main reasons why most hybrids in jobs like yours never get to live in a normal home after they get too old or injured to continue their service.

Most stay at special housings, group homes. Jungkook already dreads the day you'll surely have to live in one as well.

"You're not mute. You can ask if you want something." He chuckles, before he's caught off guard when you hug him. Wordlessly so.

You don't talk much, and if you do, mostly only with him. It's always been like that- unfamiliar people make you anxious and quiet you down.

But right now, you're quiet with him too. He can sense there's something you want to ask- but you don't. You just nod, and apologize quietly, before you leave the kitchen to go into your room- leaving the door ajar however. He slowly walks towards it, knocks on it to ask for entrance- and your ears turn towards him at that. "Can I come in?" He wonders, and you nod.

Jungkook isn't in your room very often. He wants to give you as much privacy as he can, treats you like a person and not just a pet or animal. He also wants to keep things professional and has to keep you at a distance at all times, too. It's a tough challenge.

"You seem to have something on your mind." He says, sitting down next to you on the bed, and you just shrug, pulling up your legs to hug them. "Wanna talk about it?" Jungkook asks, and you shake your head.

He respects that. Sometimes, there's just things you want to keep to yourself- just like himself.

"Jungkook?" You ask suddenly, quietly, and he instantly turns towards you to make sure you know you've got his attention. "Why.. didn't you tell me you'll leave soon?" You ask, and his heart drops.

"I don't even know that yet." He tries to justify, but it's clear that it doesn't help.

"But you're pretty sure." You scold him. "I overheard you talking to Taehyung.. you wanna get rid of me before you'll quit." You huff, and he shakes his head at that.

"That's not true." He denies. "I'm not getting rid of you. I just don't want you to end up alone." He sighs.

"..am I not alone already?" You mumble almost incoherently- but he hears it. "I wanna sleep now." You tell him before he can ask you what you mean-

And your statement is a clear way to tell him that you wouldn't even answer him if he asked anyway.

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It's just patrol. Nothing big.

And yet, the silence inside the car is suffocating him.

You're normally always pretty quiet- but you do chat around whenever there's nothing much going on, or if you're on simple patrol duty like today. However, ever since that moment a few days ago in your room, you've been distant- trying to detach yourself from him, it feels like.

He's never noticed just how close you've gotten until now that you've pulled yourselves apart from one another.

"Man, he's speeding." Jungkook mumbles from the driver's seat, while you perk up just to look up front to see what he's seeing.

The guy is in fact speeding, even if it's not too much. But what's more obvious is the swaying- he's missing a taillight already, and the car clearly has issues staying properly on the road. And when he runs over a stop-sign, Jungkook sighs, and turns on his lights to signal the driver to pull over- and the car does so, almost slamming into a street sign as it clumsily parks at the side of the road.

"I'll be right back." He says, before he steps out, leaving you in the trunk area that's cut off from the backseats by metal bars to keep you safe from people he potentially needs to transport. "Stay alert." Is the last thing he says, before he walks towards the car for a routine check.

Probably a drunk driver. Maybe drugs involved- you'll most likely be taken out for a search in a few minutes, and then you'll clock out an hour later.

But then you hear commotion- Jungkook shouting, and you instantly go into high alert, looking through the metal bars to see him arguing with a tall man who's clearly agitated about something. And then, everything happens so fast that you can't even process it quick enough.

A shot, clear as day, Jungkook running towards the car, opening the trunk where you're in, before he barks out for you to get him- the man running off into a field that you instantly follow after.

You can't really think much about what might've happened where the cars are still parked. You've got tunnel vision, legs keeping you running as fast as you can as you chase the man through the field, trying hard not to lose sight of him.

Unaware that the man is still armed.

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"Did she get him?" Jungkook asks in the hospital, as Seokjin arrives to pick him up. The shot had grazed his body mods and made him lose balance and feeling in his legs and hands- so it had to be fixed in a minor surgery, leaving him mostly unconscious for the past two days.

"Yeah- he was arrested, is awaiting trial. Was terribly wasted and on meth." He offers dryly, causing Jungkook to become suspicious.

"Did.. she sleep at the station while I was gone?" He asks, but he doesn't get an answer until he pulls his coworkers shoulder to make him face him. "Where is she?" He asks, and Seokjin sighs.

"Just focus on healing right now, kook-" He starts, but Jungkook shakes his head, face angry.

"I'm perfectly fine, now answer me." He demands. "Where is she?"

"She got hurt." Seokjin admits. "She's.. in hospital right now, but she'll be fine."

"What happened?" He urges once again. "Seokjin, what fucking happened?" He asks, but the officer refuses to answer, not until Jungkook speaks up again in the car later, on the way to his house. "How bad?" He lowly questions.

"They're not sure." Jin finally comes clean. "If you want, you can see her once she's allowed to have visitors. I can offer you to review the body cam footage too, just to.. prepare yourself." He sighs.

"I should've never let her out." Jungkook runs a hand over his face. "I should've waited for backup-"

"There's no use in that now." Jin offers. "Things happen. It was a stressful situation, you couldn't have known. Things quite literally happened in the span of minutes." He reassures him. "And she did the same. She thought about getting the job done, and she did." He says.

"..so she did catch him?" Jungkook asks.

"Absolutely. Held him down.. well, despite her situation." Jin nods almost proudly. "Jungkook." He takes a deep breath, sighs as he parks in front of the younger man's house. "She.. might not return into service. "

Jungkook doesn't move, eyes becoming distant. He's not sure how bad it must be- but he can assume it by this sentence alone. If you're not returning to service, that the damage done must've been severe.

"Keep your head up, robo-cop." Seokjin pats Jungkook's back- not too much, since he's still recovering. "She's a tough cookie. She'll make it." He tries to reassure.

And Jungkook nods-

hoping he's gonna be right about that.

two for the show | jjk

pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

word count | 2.1k

warning(s) | 18+ smut; dirty talk, established relationship, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (solo m), panty kink, implied choking kink

summary | it’s unfair how pretty he is like this; so wanton and needy, half naked and stretched across the middle of your bed (aka the fic where you catch jk jerking off in your bed with a pair of your panties).

notes| 🙃 this man straight up made me buy a keychain that says jk’s slut. i have no regrets.

✨masterlist✨

“I’m home!”

Pausing in the doorway, you listen as the barren sounds of your apartment echo back at you; the soft gurgle of the pipes, the metallic rumble of the dryer, the fan on your fridge kicking on with a dying sputter. Everything’s as you left it, barring the notable absence of your boyfriend.

There’s no low-tonged voice ringing out to greet you, no man shaped golden retriever bouncing over to drape his arms over your shoulder and smother you in kisses.

It puts you ill at ease, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth as you toss your keys on the side table and place your shoes next to his. Jungkook said he’d lounge around until you got back from your errands. It couldn’t have been more than an hour, and as it was his first day off in forever, he’d wanted to spend it with you.

… Only instead, he’s nowhere to be found.

The couch is empty, the tv dark. No god awful clanking or boisterous humming, so that rules out him taking a shower. Did he get called away to the studio? Though if that was the case, he’d have texted. Right? Right - he knows how you feel about him disappearing without notice. So that can’t be it - plus his footwear is still on the rack. 

 Stepping into the kitchen

“Kook,” you call, peeking into the kitchen only to find it just as empty as the rest of the apartment, “you still here?”

There’s no answer.

But what sounds like a faint curse comes from somewhere near the bedrooms, so with a shrug you follow the noise only to freeze. Your brows shoot up your forehead, and your gut clenches hotly.  A violent, visceral reaction that makes all the moisture flee your mouth.

Surely he’s not… No, there’s no way.

Except then a grunt breaks the tense quiet; smothered, breathless sounds that echo low and wounded into the hallway. If you hadn’t been standing right outside the doorway, if you hadn’t been looking for Jungkook, the distant humdrum of everyday life would’ve otherwise disguised them.

A warm hush creeps up your neck and pools in your cheeks, leaving your skin altogether uncomfortable; itchy and tight like a nasty burn. Every tentative step feels like walking on a tripwire, the slightest creak of the floorboards a gunshot. 

It’s a miracle you make it to the end of the hall, your door haphazardly cracked with slats of sunlight spilling across the floor. Seconds later, another grunt - this time louder and filthier. 

It’s impossible to resist the urge to peek around the doorjamb, to see how Jungkook’s pulling those kinds of sounds from his throat, to see what tempo he likes to stroke his cock to when he’s alone. Mouth full of cotton, your heart lurches while you try to absorb the surreal image presented with difficulty.

With how he’s planted his feet and bent his legs, it’s difficult to get an unobstructed view of what his hand’s doing between his thighs but what you can see?

Well.

“…H-Haaah…ss-shit, that’s…”

Keep reading

sweet mornings; p.jm

summary: amidst the relentless tides of your busy lives, your longing for each other had remained unfulfilled, until this precious moment.

pairings: bf!jimin x gf!reader

genre/warnings: pwp, smut, fluff, established relationship, soulmate!au (?)

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hello! welcome to my very first post! i’m so very excited to share this with you, please be kind. feedbacks are always welcome. this is my first time ever uploading on tumblr, so it’s all very new and complex for me rn but i’m sure i’ll get the hang of it soon, i’d appreciate some help! anyway, enjoy :)

a soft, warm light gently bathes the room, casting a delicate glow as it filters through the curtains. a scattering of sunbeams dance playfully through narrow gaps, delicately caressing your skin, accentuating its radiance. you find yourself immersed in a profound slumber, nestled comfortably on your side, draped in a light blanket that envelops your form. with each breath you take, your chest rises and falls in perfect harmony with your partner's.

lying beside you, he lies peacefully on his back, one hand reaching out tenderly towards you, while the other rests gracefully upon his stomach. a faint, melodic snore escapes his lips, harmonizing with the tranquil ambiance of the room, mingling effortlessly with your soft exhales.

these mornings held a special place in your heart, for they were the moments you longed for. amidst the whirlwind of your busy schedules, scarce were the opportunities for you and jimin to savor such cherished occasions. hence, you held them dear, treasuring every fleeting second. the luxury of sleeping in with him, unburdened by the demands of the outside world, was a rarity reserved for only a handful of weekends.

jimin stirred beside you, emitting a gentle grunt as his plushy lips parted in a languid stretch, followed by a heartfelt yawn. moving with an instinctual grace, as if he were programmed to seek you out the moment his senses awakened, his arm enveloped your slumbering figure. his chest pressed against the smooth expanse of your bare back, while he deftly intertwined your legs beneath the delicate embrace of the thin blanket. a tender purr escaped his lips as they tenderly brushed against your shoulder, and his eyes fluttered closed once more, surrendering to the tranquility of the moment.

his body exuded a remarkable warmth against your own, enveloping you in its comforting embrace. you stirred in response, a contented purr mirroring his own, accompanied by a throaty grunt as you attempted to stretch against him, albeit with limited space. instead of granting you the pleasure and move, a gentle, wearied half-smile graced his lips, and his arm tightened its hold around you.

"good morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep, as his whispered words caressed your skin.

"morning," you whispered, your voice carrying a hoarse timbre, interlaced with the remnants of sleep and weariness. your words escaped in a soft mumble, lingering in the hazy realm between consciousness and dreams. with your eyes still closed, you allowed your body to surrender to the comforting support of his presence, finding solace in the warmth shared between you. although your stretch may not have offered the complete satisfaction you sought, you released a contented sigh, allowing it to drift from your throat. in response, his lips delicately pressed against your shoulder, imparting a tender, gentle kiss that resonated through your body, eliciting a subtle vibration and intertwining with a soft hum of his own.

the arm holding you now glided along your bicep, its touch a tender caress that traced a path of softness down to your forearm, where it cradled your limb with gentle strength. meanwhile, his lips bestowed a cascade of sweet, fleeting kisses upon your shoulder, each one a tender token of affection. as his body subtly shifted, the warm press of his crotch against your backside elicited a quiet, involuntary groan from your lips. the absence of clothing, remnants of the previous night's passionate encounters, heightened your sensitivity, causing every sensation to reverberate with an exquisite intensity.

"jimin..." you exhaled his name, the sound a breathy whisper that escaped your parted lips. despite your efforts to create distance, each movement only intensified the friction against his crotch, drawing a deep, primal grunt from the depths of his being. his hand upon your forearm tightened, conveying a possessive grip that sent a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. as his knee stealthily found its place between your legs, gently parting them with a deliberate touch, a rush of heat enveloped your body, leaving you with a lightheaded sensation that blurred the boundaries between sleep and desire.

a hunger for touch radiated from him, evident in the way his body yearned for intimate connection. the previous night had marked the end of a nearly month-long hiatus from sex, the demanding nature of your schedules leaving little room for such indulgences. though brief, the encounter had been a sweet respite, his exhaustion prevailing, yet simultaneously igniting an even deeper longing within him. you shared in this yearning, having missed him dearly during the arid stretch, craving the sensation of his hands upon your skin, the tender press of his lips against yours. the absence of his whispered sweet nothings, those melodic affirmations that always found their way to your ear, left a void that could only be filled by the rapturous connection you both shared, reminding you of the paradise he could create on earth.

his body seamlessly melded with yours, your contours fitting together like interlocking puzzle pieces. the subtle movements of his hips brought them in perfect alignment with your entrance, an unspoken promise of impending intimacy. meanwhile, his lips painted a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your shoulder, tracing a path that ascended towards your neck. the tender sensation, coupled with the heat of his breath against your skin, evoked a soft sigh that escaped your throat, its whispered melody a testament to the growing desire within you. as your anticipation grew, your hand instinctively grasped the sheets beneath you, seeking both grounding and a release for the rising surge of sensations.

his lips deftly navigated the curve beneath your ear, finding solace in that intimate nook, where a soft sigh escaped before they delicately hovered above it.

"i've been counting down the seconds until i could have you like this," he murmured, his words a breathy caress that sent a cascade of shivers dancing down your spine. you exhaled gently, your breath mingling with the charged air, as your heart leapt within your chest, the sheer intensity of his whispered declaration propelling you into a realm where desire and anticipation converged.

his lips continued their tantalizing journey, trailing a cascade of tender kisses along the curve of your neck. meanwhile, the teasing touch of his tip against your slick hole elicited a reflexive bite upon your lip, a delicate gesture that masked the rising wave of anticipation and impatience within you. the soft sound that escaped your lips, a manifestation of longing and desire, caused him to smirk against your skin, his amusement evident in the subtle movements of his lips.

"shh now..." he murmured, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. "...let me savor every moment with you." the seductive promise in his words hung in the air, enveloping you in a cloak of anticipation as he vowed to take his time, to explore every inch of your being with deliberate and unrestrained passion.

the maddening teasing persisted, each passing moment amplifying the intensity of your longing. it had been mere minutes, yet the passage of time seemed distorted, stretching into an eternity of pent-up desire. your patience wore thin, eclipsed by an overwhelming craving for him that refused to be subdued. you couldn't help but shift, subtly arching your back, yearning for a deeper connection, aching to be filled by him. the sensation of his presence increasing brought a soft, satisfied sigh to escape your lips, a testament to the pleasure coursing through your veins. you could sense jimin's response, his body trembling behind you, a shaky breath escaping his parted lips as he gritted his teeth, mirroring the intensity of your shared desire.

the dam of restraint within him crumbled under the weight of his desire, overpowering any intention of taking things slowly. his hand, once resting upon your forearm, now found its place on your hip, securing a gentle yet possessive grip. with deliberate slowness, he thrust himself into you, the joining of your bodies punctuating the air with a symphony of synchronized pleasure that echoed throughout the room.

a sharp hiss escaped his lips, teeth gritted as he came to a halt, remaining deep inside you. his hand grazed your stomach, a tender caress that left a trail of warmth in its wake, before settling once again upon your forearm, anchoring himself to you as he commenced a gradual rhythm of movement. each measured stroke was a testament to his reverence and the depth of connection you shared.

a breathy moan escaped your lips, carrying with it a delicate hint of longing and surrender. the sound reached jimin's ears, eliciting a deep, guttural grunt in response, a primal echo of the raw desire that surged within him. despite the intensity of his own yearning, his movements retained a deliberate slowness, each motion a testament to his reverence and the intention to savor every moment.

as the connection between you deepened, his hand shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours, capturing your hand from the back. the gentle yet firm grasp symbolized the union of your desires, intertwining your bodies and souls in an unbreakable bond. in that moment, your hands became a conduit for the unspoken language of passion, conveying a profound sense of unity and shared intimacy.

the morning unfolded in a symphony of passion, as the room became a sanctuary resonating with the harmonies of soft moans and the rhythm of heavy breathing. the tender collision of lips against supple skin reverberated in the air, an exquisite chorus of pleasure that transcended words. the intimacy shared between you was accompanied by whispered endearments and murmurs of delight, their hushed tones serving as a secret language understood only by you both.

as the warm morning light filtered through the window, casting its ethereal glow upon the scene, the room transformed into a celestial haven. the interplay of soft hues lent an angelic aura to your entangled forms, heightening the sensory feast and imbuing the entire experience with a divine essence. it was as if you had been transported to a realm of pure bliss, where every touch, every sound, and every stolen moment fused together to create an otherworldly symphony of love and desire.

in the aftermath of passionate moments, you both lingered in a tranquil stillness, cherishing the precious moments of respite to catch your breaths. jimin's grip on your hand remained firm and comforting, a tangible reminder of the profound connection you shared. with a gentle shift, he withdrew slightly, allowing space for his hand to cup your cheek, guiding your face to meet his.

for the first time that morning, your eyes met, becoming the conduits of unspoken affection and tenderness. in that shared gaze, a depth of emotion unfolded, weaving an unbreakable bond between you. gentle smiles graced your lips, mirroring the profound love and contentment that emanated from within. and in this delicate, poignant exchange, your lips met in a gentle, tender kiss.

"i love you," he whispered, his words a sweet caress against your lips. in response, a soft purr escaped your throat, a sound of contentment and adoration. without breaking the connection between your lips, you instinctively turned your body to face him completely, ensuring an unbroken bond.

"i love you too," you breathed out, your voice filled with a mixture of warmth and longing. as his tongue gently grazed your bottom lip, a subtle invitation, your lips parted willingly, granting him access to the depths of your mouth.