Jungkook

Jungkook

Green| Part 01

A good idea not thought through.

Tags/Warnings: Rabbit hybrid!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, Single Dad!AU, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, angst, suggestive, mentioned smut but sfw

Length: 3.7k Words

-> Masterlist

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When Jimin had set this whole date up, Jungkook had expected.. Nothing, really.  

As far as he knows, he’s supposed to meet you at the restaurant right here, and you supposedly know exactly which table he sits at- but what he did not expect, was for you to be so.. Pretty.  

You’re clearly a fox hybrid, distinctive hybrid features standing out, very much well taken care of. The second you sit down, he notices even the shape of your pupils being the same as a common fox’s, though they don’t make him feel intimidated at all. Not as they should, at least.  

Jungkook remembers the teasing jokes back in school, or the struggle to earn his spot even later in life as a prey hybrid. Many people still believe that he’s not a good fit for a leading position in his company as a rabbit, unable to apparently make important decisions with a realistic view on things or not mentally strong enough to withstand the stress of responsibility. But he’s not just a meek little bunny.  

And from the looks of it, you’re not a dangerous predator either.  

“Well, Jimin wasn’t lying when he told me you were.. Cute.” You say, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath- and you take it as a bad sign, instantly going back on your words. “Not as in, not-to-be-taken-seriously-cute, but like- uh.. Your ears just look.. Pretty?” You tell him, and at that, his eyes move to look at you from the rim of his wineglass, one of his mentioned black rabbit ears slowly standing up.  

Silver piercings are decorating it. It’s an uncommon sight- but you decide it fits him.  

“...thanks.” He nods, before he licks his lips, and averts his eyes. “I apologize, It’s been.. A while since I’ve been on a date.” He shamefully admits, but you wave him off.  

“It’s not a problem.” You deny. “I don’t go on dates often either.” 

“How come?” He wonders, seeing an opportunity to spark some smalltalk, so he can find out a little more about you.  

“Just.. Not the time. And no partner to go on one with.” You giggle, thanking the waitress for your glass of wine. “I’m usually pretty busy with work.”  

“Work?” He asks, and you nod, your pretty fox ears suddenly standing tall with pride, tail swinging behind you. It’s pretty cute, in his humble opinion.  

“I’m an author!” You beam happily. “I write children’s books, and fantasy novels.” You explain, and Jungkook’s thoughts instantly go back to his daughter, currently in the care of Jimin at his house. Did you write a book she’s seen before?  

“Children’s books?” He wonders, feeling a bit stupid for just asking you, and never giving you anything in return.  

“Yep.” You chirp. “Mostly.. Very simple one’s. Ages 4 to 7.” You explain. “And you? What do you do for a living if I may ask?” You wonder, resting your chin on your hands.  

“I’m.. The vice president of HLC at the moment. Hopefully I might get a promotion at some point.” He chuckles, and your eyes widen.  

“Wow.. That's. Okay, that’s huge.” You laugh a bit uneasy now.  

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” He wonders, a bit confused. Both of his ears are up now, his body becoming more and more comfortable with your presence.  

“A little?” You admit. You’re honest, it seems like. He already decides it’s a very positive point. “I feel a little.. Out of your league, so to say.” You say a bit jokingly, taking a sip from your wine. He shakes his head.  

“Don't worry about it.” He denies, reassuring you. “We both have our places in life.”  

“So it seems.” You nod, while you wait for your dinner to be served.  

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A place Jungkook had not seen you in his life, was beneath him, in his bed.  

But that’s exactly where you’ve ended up, most of your clothes already having been stripped from your bodies, lying somewhere in the bedroom. He honestly blamed his attraction to you on his hormones at first, and the fact that he’d neglected his natural need for physical intimacy for so long due to his single-father situation, but in this moment, he knows that it’s more than just that.  

And that just screams trouble.  

But right now, Jungkook can’t make himself think of anything other than you beneath his hands, skin warm as you push your bare behind right into him. He’d technically wanted to drive you home, a simple act of chivalry since your date had honestly been very nice, but somehow, you ended up agreeing to at least let the night come to an end in a more relaxed atmosphere at his apartment, since you told him that you’ve always dreamed to live in a apartment high up with a view of the city skyline.  

He really just wanted to show you the view. He really doesn’t know when you both started to make out.  

But he knows that it’s something you both clearly want- your hands holding onto his bedsheets almost impatiently, while he’s busy wrapping the condom over his length. If the situation was just a little different, Jungkook could see you both getting along a lot longer than for just this- but he’s got responsibilities, and he can’t just bring someone into his life without thinking about it long enough.  

And also, with his daughter still at such a vulnerable age, there’s just no way she’d accept you. 

Initially, he’d keep it at this. You’re in perfect breeding position, face in the pillows, behind pushed into him- but he has to see you. It’s not some magical connection type of thing, just simple attraction, and maybe, just maybe, his inner need to at least pretend for a moment that he’s just a young guy being together with his girlfriend- even though that’s never going to be the truth.  

Just for a moment, he wants to pretend.  

Just for one night.  

On your end, this is just an adventure you’ve never been on before. Jimin had told you to come out of your shell a little, be a bit wild for once, and meet his best friend who’s got a ‘just as dry’ intimate life as you did. And you can’t deny that this friend- Jungkook- is anything but charming, and attractive. Despite being a prey hybrid, he’s oozing a certain sense of confidence that’s not overbearing, but simply comfortable to be around.  

But all good things must come to an end- and to spare the poor young man the awkwardness, you get up in the middle of the night- early morning, barely three AM.  

Putting on your clothes, and somewhat fixing your hair, you carefully make sure to write a small note to leave on his kitchen table. Your face is already bare, since you both did shower yesterday before going to bed- so you don’t have to worry about that.  

Maybe he’d like to meet you again? Well, you surely left your number on the note for him to reach out to, if he so decides to do so.  

However, just as you try and walk out, you notice something.. Odd.  

A small, childrens-size pale green wintercoat, hanging on the wall next to the entrance. Tiny shoes, green, frog-themed rain boots, and an equally themed little umbrella hanging on the wall as well, next to what you assume must be Jungkook’s clothes. These things clearly belong to a child- and now that you pay more attention to it, you do smell the uniquely scent profile of a kid in the apartment.  

And the scents are too alike to deny that it must be his.  

Panic starts to bubble up inside you. If he has a child, there must be a mother to it as well, right? Maybe not, but the chance is too high for you to really take any chances. Jimin didn’t mention that at all- if he’d told you that this rabbit wanted to cheat and not just ‘go on a date’, you would’ve never agreed to it!  

Did you just become a homewrecker?  

You’re taking a step to take your note with you again, but you instead hear Jungkook move around in his bedroom, sleepily calling out your name- and that makes your instincts go haywire, as you instead basically rip the door open after somewhat slipping into your heels, and fetching your small handbag from the floor near the way too cute rainboots staring at you oh-so innocently.  

The door snaps shut behind you, and you don’t look back as you rush down and into the elevator, leaving the fancy apartment building and this whole mistake behind. 

Already fuming as you call Jimin, uncaring about the time. 

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“I’m so sorry!” Jimin apologizes to Jungkook, who just sighs as he washes Minji’s plastic dishes in the sink, while the little girl is occupied on the couch, watching her favorite show before bed. “I didn’t think you both would end up here though-” 

“It doesn’t matter anyways.” The young father denies, putting every piece of cutlery on the side to dry later. “It’s not like it would’ve worked out anyways. I just wish she knew that this was just a huge misunderstanding.” He clarifies, turning off the faucet before he grabs a towel to dry the dishes.  

“I tried explaining it to her, really.” Jimin whines, feeling incredibly guilty for screwing this up so badly for his friend. “But she doesn’t believe me at all.” He sighs, sitting down.  

“Like I said, it’s not like it would’ve worked out.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Minji already got nervous when Taehyung dropped her off this morning already just because her scent lingered.” 

“But.. Isn't there, like, any way of getting her used to it?” Jimin wonders. “Like, I swear I’ve seen predator-prey couples with a prey child, and they looked fine to me.”  

“Rare.” Jungkook just shrugs, putting the plastic cutlery and dishes away in their respective places. “It’s really fine. I just hope she doesn’t feel guilty about things, or believes that she was just some sort of.. Body for me to use.” He says, ears low against his head, simply flopping down. It’s obvious that Jungkook is upset about it all. Because from what Jimin had told him, you’d felt horrible, believing that you were some part in him cheating on the mother of his child- unaware that she’s not even in the picture, and hasn’t been for years.  

“I’m gonna try and convince her one way or another.” Jimin sighs. “Really, this is so fucked up. The main reason I tried setting you both up WAS Minji!” He whines to himself, thanking Jungkook for the glass of water he offers him, before the young father sits down across from him at the kitchen table. 

“What do you mean?” He wonders.  

“She loves kids!” The human reveals. “She really does, but she herself can’t have any. Which I think might be why she feels so strongly in this situation.” He explains, making Jungkook sigh.  

Well, that just makes him feel so much worse.  

“There’s got to be a way to make this right somehow.” Jimin complains to himself, while looking over at Minji, who’s busy watching the TV with her favourite plush toy in her lap keeping her company. “I’m really sorry. I thought.. I don’t know. I forgot that because you’re two different hybrids, you might not get along too well..” He says, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“I.. We got along very well, actually. I really liked her. Or rather, still like her.” He chuckles a bit bitterly to himself. “But I guess finding a partner is out of the question for me, at least until Minnie is a bit older.”  

“A bit older? Jungkook, you said she probably will stay scared of predator hybrids until she’s what? Twelve?” His human friend reminds him.  

“...generally, yeah.” He shrugs.  

“Jungkook, no. That can’t.. I refuse to accept that.” He shakes his head. “I’ll explain it all to her, I promise, and you’ll try and make this work with Minji when the time comes. Please.” Jimin says. “I don’t want to see you so lonely all the time.” 

“I’m not lonely- I have Minji.” Jungkook refuses.  

“You know what I mean.” Jimin presses.  

“...alright.” Jungkook sighs. “If- IF- you somehow work it out with her, and she wants to.. Talk, give her my number. And not the office phone, please.” He runs a hand over his face, before he gets up with his friend to bring him to the door. “But don’t pressure her. If she doesn’t want to see me again, that’s fine too.”  

“I won’t.” Jimin promises. “Promise.” 

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You’re sitting in front of Jungkook again, in a public cafe, a hot cup of milky coffee in front of you, while he seems equally as nervous with his own iced americano in his hands, fingers tracing the pearling condensation a little.  

“So.” You start, looking at him, nervously licking your lips.  

“So.” He nods. “I have a child.”  

“So I’ve noticed.” You answer him, legs swinging a bit back and forth, due to the chair being a bit too high for you. 

“Her mother.. Left, pretty much a few weeks after she was born.” He explains in a neutral tone, staring down at his beverage. “No one really has an answer why. But she just.. It was as if she was disgusted with her own child, pretty much right after birth.” Jungkook recites the events. “Didn’t want to hold her, got angry when she cried, refused to take care of her. We thought it might just.. Be postpartum depression?” He leans his head to the side a little. “It happens more than one might think, after all. But it never got any better.” He shakes his head. “So.. We decided to split up, and I took care of Minji by myself.” 

“Did she ever.. Maybe reach out?” You wonder, but Jungkook shakes his head.  

“She re-married again. Lives in Italy now, with her new husband and stepchildren.” He chuckles a bit. “I’m happy she’s happy, you know? Just wish it went a little different.” He honestly reveals.  

“How old is Minji?” You wonder, dreading the answer. Because from both the scent and the size of the clothes and shoes in his home, she must be young. 

“She’s three and a half.” He reveals, and both of you become quiet.  

Oh. 

Well, it was nice while it lasted. With his daughter this young, there’s just no way you could ever move forward with your friendship even- considering you’re still a predator hybrid at the end of the day, something that surely will scare the poor little bunny half to death. Why do you always have to get crushes on the worst possible people? 

“Well, I’m sure.. She’s very lucky to have you as a dad.” You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. “And you’ll soon find a proper partner as well. You’re very likable after all.” You praise, praying that he can’t see the way your eyes begin to water.  

“I’m sorry.” He answers, and his voice sounds just as dissappointed as he feels. “I.. Wish we would’ve met under different circumstances.” 

“Then you wouldn’t have Minji.” You deny, spotting two drops of your tears having fallen onto the table. “Sorry, I’m a crybaby...” You say, fetching a tissue from your handbag.  

“We could still try-” He starts, but you shake your head.  

“No, she’s gonna be terrified of me, I don’t wanna scare her.” You refuse, drying your cheeks with a good amount of embarrassment, large fox ears pinned back in shame of it all.  

“Minji is a lot braver than one might think.” Jungkook chuckles, reaching out to help you wipe off your slightly smudged mascara from beneath your eyes. “She just.. She might just be a bit shy. Or very shy, most likely.” He adds, and you giggle a bit.  

“Jungkook.. I’m sorry I’m me.” You say, but he shakes his head, smiling at you.  

“Don’t ever apologize for something like that.”  

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You decide to meet up again at Jimin’s birthday party- the human having invited you both, and Minji as well for the dinner he’d organized at his favourite restaurant in town. You’ll have the whole venue for yourselves to make it both easier for the staff, and everyone attending.  

Jungkook is nervous in his seat, Minji next to him in her seat, happily coloring in her little book that he brought with him to keep her occupied, different shades of green crayons all over her spot at the table.  

It’s then that the door to the restaurant opens, and you step in, together with Min Yoongi- a coworker and fellow predator hybrid whom you’ve befriended a few years ago, or so Jimin said. The big cat hybrid is apparently a tiger- though his ears and tail aren’t even slightly orange, instead monochrome white and black, his light eyes proving the fact that he’s not a standard.  

But, Jungkook can’t look at him for too long, because he’s too busy blatantly staring at you instead, with your pretty face, dressed up for the occasion. So much so, that Minji has to pull on his sleeve to get his attention back, looking at him before she tilts her head, small bunny ears in between her hair moving on a constant, since so much is going on.  

This will be it. If she gets too scared, he’ll have to go home early- and basically bury his hope of ever building something with you.  

But even though she does seem nervous, she’s not yet scared- instead clinging to her father by instinct, who’s calm, mostly that is. “Come, let’s say hi to everyone, yeah?” He offers her, and she reluctantly gets up with him, clinging to his hand while they both walk towards Yoongi and you, who’s just hanging up your coat.  

“Long time no see.” Jungkook offers Yoongi, who nods and shakes his hand politely, before he leans down to make himself as small as he can, in hopes of maybe getting at least something out of the little girl- but she instead steps behind Jungkook, the predator hybrid too intimidating. “I’m sorry.” 

“Oh don’t be. She grew quite a lot in a year.” Yoongi dismisses, while you reluctantly walk closer, politely moving to shake Jungkook’s hand as well- but the rabbit hybrid instead moves to give you a hug, despite his daughter being so close. And much to your surprise, this action alone seems to spark Minji’s interest- her head poking around Jungkook’s legs, just to look at you curiously, especially your fluffy tail that’s nervously swaying from side to side behind you.  

“Say hello, Minji.” Jungkook urges her, but as if snapped out from her trance, she shakes her head, instead running back to her seat at the table where she picks up her crayons once more.  

“She’s cute.” You say, earning Jungkook’s attention back. “Looks.. A lot like you.” You mention, and he nods.  

“I know. A lot of people tell me she’s like.. A mini-version of me.” He chuckles, walking towards his own spot next to his daughter. “Do you.. Want to sit next to me?” He wonders, and you nod, accepting happily. Sitting next to him will get Minji used to your scent, while also putting a safety barrier between her and him, so she can figure you out from afar.  

Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.  

Something you’re very much surprised about, is that throughout the entire evening, the little hybrid girl does not seem to complain whatsoever. Not once does she get fidgety, or whiny about sitting in one spot for too long- and once she does, Jungkook is quick and skilled in handling her well, calming her down or occupying her attention for a moment.  

Though, at some point, she does get up and roam around a little, under the watchful eye of her father of course.  

You’re currently talking to Jungkook about your work, when you notice something on your tail, one slight look from you revealing that it’s the little girl, carefully running her small hands over the fur, interest too great to really let her inner fear control her. You know she’s on high alert- ears standing tall and completely turned towards you, motions freezing entirely when she notices that you’ve noticed her.  

Jungkook smiles at his daughter. “It’s pretty, hm?” He asks her, and nods, before she reaches out to have him pick her up and sit her on his lap, where she stares at you, now a lot more bold in the arms of her father. She’s visibly taking your entire appearance in, before she looks at Jungkook again, attempting to pull one of his jet-black rabbit ears, making him laugh and gently prevent her from doing so. “What do you want with dad’s ears, huh?” He jokingly scolds. “You’ve got your own, right there!” He reminds her, gently pulling her own equally dark ears, which makes her laugh.  

You can’t help but smile fondly at the interaction.  

That is until suddenly, the little girl boldly reaches out for your ears now- something that makes you both surprised and excited- your head leaning closer so she can clumsily grab at your ears, laughing most likely at how soft they are. It clearly makes Jungkook hopeful, his own tail wiggling around without his own knowledge as he watches the short but warm interaction with you two.  

It’s obvious that while Jungkook is around, she feels comfortable and safe enough to interact with you- but as soon as his attention is somewhere else, she becomes more withdrawn and suspicious again, which is natural. But the fact that she’s not panicking at least, is already a great sign.  

Maybe there’s a chance.  

Maybe this could really work.  

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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and crush down the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Put him in a tiny little box that you refuse to touch.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you trace over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

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SPICY 'N SWEET MASTERPOST | JJK

PAIRING: Boxer Jungkook x shy ballerina Reader

SYNOPSIS:

Jeon Jungkook is the perfect guy… to piss off your parents. He’s buff, inked up and the definition of their worst nightmare but hey, when love comes knocking on your door there’s not much you can do. It’s not like you planned on falling for him… it just kind of happened, and honestly, you're not even mad about it. Not at all.

Words—91k

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Spicy 'N Sweet ★*☆♪ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. Summer has already spread in the air

Spicy ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. In the blink of an eye, the dark faded out

Sweet ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. Blooming under the sunlight

Sugar ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. Memories with me and you

Sour ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. All these lights are colored in by you

Salty ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 5

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. All these times are precious due to you

Sugar-coated ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 6

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. All the reasons why I can laugh out

(His) Stupid Ego ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 7

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. Thankful to be by your side now

Sweet Nothing ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 8

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. I'll try to shine brighter than now

Sweeter than fiction ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 9

₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆. In the blink of an eye, the dark faded out

Sugar Rush ★*☆♪ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 10

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

Sweetener ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 1

˚₊•𓂅𓏲ʚ✨️ɞ𓂅𓏲•₊˚

Soft ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 2

˚₊•𓂅𓏲ʚ✨️ɞ𓂅𓏲•₊˚

Sensual ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 3

˚₊•𓂅𓏲ʚ✨️ɞ𓂅𓏲•₊˚

Sweet Scars ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 4

˚₊•𓂅𓏲ʚ✨️ɞ𓂅𓏲•₊˚

Slipping through my fingers ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 5

˚₊•𓂅𓏲ʚ✨️ɞ𓂅𓏲•₊˚

Like Crazy ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ 6

˚₊•𓂅𓏲ʚ✨️ɞ𓂅𓏲•₊˚ Bonus stuff

A to Z Headcanon ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

Before they started dating ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

Search; ☆ミS'NS Mail💌☆ミ & ☆ミTaking on S'NS 💌☆ミ for community S'NS Drabble ideas/etc <3

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evolution of a lover's heart  | 08 (final)

the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

pairing: fuckboy!jk x f reader

genre: fluff, angst, college au, (post collage au), fuckboy au, bet au

word count: 16.7k

warnings:  scenes with smutty undertones like someone being tied up naked, boob fondling, naked confessions, drunk (and ...horny) reader this time lol and sweetie gguk, a hunky gguk at the beach, a LOT of tears. and the biggest warning(disclaimer) of them all: i'm not a poet lol

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 8/8 previous | next>

© evolution of a lover’s heart is copyright jeonstudios 2023. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

playlist

author's note: so here it is, the end! <3

It’s mid-December when you’re out with Jeongguk, Jin, Jin’s wife Sana, Tae, and Jimin and his girlfriend Ryujin.

After you’ve been sitting in a large booth on the upper floor for a while, getting just a tiny bit tipsy, you and Jeongguk soon find yourselves on the bottom floor, where the music is louder and the lights are lower.

He follows you into the dancing crowd, smiling back at you, entertained when you smirk at him and grip his shirt to pull him further along.

“So… you come here often?” you speak, throwing your arm around his neck and starting to move to the sensual beat.

Jeongguk laughs, his hands finding your hips. “Yeah,” he improvises, “I’m here basically every day. But I haven’t seen you around here.”

Your heart beats almost erratically at a list of things. The proximity between you, the feeling of his sturdy shoulders under your arm and his warm chest so close to yours. It skips a few beats at the familiar scent of him, and the way you can barely tear your eyes away from his. He peers down at you fondly and playfully, and you’re entirely lost in it.

“You might need glasses cause I’m also here everyday. In fact, I actually live here,” you gesture toward the dance floor that you’ve only visited once before.

Jeongguk shakes his head, “Oh, no, honey, there’s nothing wrong with my eyes, and I think you’re lying because I definitely would’ve noticed you.”

His words warm your veins, yet make a chill run over your skin. You press yourself closer to him.

For a while, you dance. A little bit of grinding, Jeongguk whispering things in your ear, and also a little bit of jumping when the DJ plays a really good song. And tons of laughter and smiling.

Then, Jeongguk decides that he wants more beer, and coincidentally enough, you have to visit the ladies’ room to pee out some.

Naturally, you agree to meet at the smaller bar on the bottom floor afterward, and so, you set out to find the bathroom.

There’s a bit of a line unfortunately, so it takes you around ten minutes to get into a stall, pee out all the beer and the little wine you’ve had, and wash your hands.

Then, the only thing remaining is to find your boyfriend again. It doesn’t prove to be very difficult; he’s at the place you decided to meet, but as you approach, you spot a woman next to him at the bar.

You don’t think very much of it at first–Jeongguk is a very attractive man, and it’s frankly inevitable that he’ll get hit on–but the closer you come, the more your forehead creases in confusion.

The woman is pretty tall and she’s honestly very beautiful. But Jeongguk looks… uncomfortable. Not massively so, but… well, you know him very well by now.

When you reach them, you tap Jeongguk’s shoulder, running your hand down his arm to hold his hand, “Hey, do you wanna find the others?”

He looks down at you, “Uh… uhm, yeah.”

“Who’s this?”

You turn your attention toward the woman, not expecting her to not take the hint. You hear Jeongguk introduce you over the music, “This is my, uh, girlfriend, Y–,” he says.

“Oh, you’ve got a new girlfriend?” she asks, also having to raise her voice over the music, and is that a flash of… distaste in her eyes?

“Well,” she continues when there’s no answer, “since you’re too busy to answer my calls, I guess I have to tell you this way. I’m pregnant. Four months.”

She lowers one of her hands, stroking it gently over her belly that appears pretty flat. Not that that tells you anything, some people take longer to show and others don’t show very much at all.

With your heart at a standstill, the first thing you do is look at Jeongguk. And he looks at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“No, that can’t be, I didn’t–we didn’t–”

Four months would mean that they had sex in… the middle of August. Which was when you were broken up. It also happened to be when Taehyung said that Tzuyu called.

Tzuyu.

“Are you gonna take responsibility for once, Jeongguk? Not try to lie your way out of it like you always do?”

You see how he struggles to find his words, the insecurity creeping back up again. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The music is loud.

“Just this once, can you try to think of anyone but yourself?”

The thing is that Tzuyu looks genuine. There’s a crease of worry between her eyebrows, and she appears sincerely frustrated, maybe even distraught. Like she’s been trying to reach the fuckboy who got her pregnant but who doesn’t want to step up.

Your first instinct is always to believe the woman, but at this moment, you only think of one person. Jeongguk. You try to push the thoughts of a baby away. If she is pregnant with his child, then that complicates everything, but you’re not angry or upset because you were broken up. 

You don’t like the thought that he went back to her, but you don’t blame him. 

However, if there is no baby–or there is but it isn’t his–then she’s trying to sabotage her ex’s relationship, maybe in order to get him back.

Your brain is still processing the situation when you feel Jeongguk gently pull his hand from yours, but when you turn your head to look at him, he looks at her. His head is lowered slightly, and his posture isn’t the same as only ten minutes ago when he carried his head high and his back straight. 

It’s a heartbreaking but instant realization that he’s trying to remove himself from you. Or rather, remove you from the mess he thinks he’s made.

“Nothing?” Tzuyu asks calmly, directed solely at Jeongguk.

His eyes flicker from side to side anxiously, but before he can try to say anything, you grab his hand again.

“Have you had an ultrasound?” you speak up, remaining polite and soft-spoken as you meet Tzuyu’s eyes when she turns to you. “At four months, you’ve probably had one done, right? And he would like to see the pictures. If you haven’t, then he wants you to make an appointment as soon as possible so he can go with you.”

It’s barely noticeable, especially in the low light, how she flutters her eyes in surprise, and you feel the weight of Jeongguk’s gaze on the side of your face. 

“And he wants a paternity test as well, preferably before you deliver,” you continue, stroking your thumb over his skin.

“Are you accusing me of being a liar?” Tzuyu questions, her voice even louder than it needs to be.

“No, we just want to do everything right.”

“‘We?’ This is none of your business; it’s between me and him.”

For the first time, your voice turns stern, “No, you lost that right when you treated him like you did.”

“And who are you to decide that? Actually, who are you even? Me and Jeongguk go way back, and do I have to remind you that he came to me, which led to this,” she motions to her stomach, “in the first place.”

From appearing like any sane person just moments ago, you see how her true colors start to shine through. You heard Jeongguk introduce you as his girlfriend, but you’re not sure if she knows how long you’ve been together, and that, although broken up, he was with you in August. If she doesn’t, you don’t want to give her any more ammunition.

“He already told you I’m his girlfriend, and no offense, but are you five years old? It doesn’t  matter who’s known him the longest, but if it’s so important to you, we first met in college.”

For half a second, Tzuyu’s eyes widen, and she looks between you and Jeongguk.

“College?”

“Yeah.”

She drops her shoulders. “You know what? Fuck you. You’ll be a shit father anyway.”

You blink at the sudden change as she pushes her way in between you, forcing your hands apart.

“Let him know when to take you to the hospital,” you call after her, but you don’t get much of a response except a half-assed wave.

Music still blaring, you turn to Jeongguk. He’s looking somewhere else, gaze lost avoidingly into the sea of people.

Gently, you reach for his hand, smiling when he looks down at you, and slowly intertwining your fingers.

His eyes are cautious, and you know. You know. Although tall and strong, it’s all in his eyes, so easy to read. It’s like being looked at by a helpless little deer kid, prepared to be abandoned. Bambi.

He wants to leave. You can tell that he considers it just to make it easier for you, even if it’s illogical. 

“I’ve got you,” you say, perhaps a bit too quietly, but you’re certain he read it on your lips anyway.

His hand is warm in yours. You see him mumble a ‘why?’

“Let’s go outside.”

You lead the way, Jeongguk’s hand firmly held in yours the whole journey through the dancing and drinking people. Well outside, you take a deep breath. The December air is cold, and you didn’t bring your jackets, but there’s no need as you’ll return into the warmth soon enough. 

“You okay?” you ask, attempting to meet his eyes, but he looks straight ahead at the street.

“Why would you do all this?”

“Do what? Defend you? Believe you?”

“Yes?” he turns his head to finally meet your eyes. His are serious and sad. “You know as well as I do that I only ever… my first–and often only–priority is always me, so why would you…”

“Stay?”

He quiets down and looks away again.

“Cause you’re my birdy, my pup, or whatever. I know you, and you said you didn’t go and see her, and even if you did, we were broken up, and you were free to do whatever. I wouldn’t be mad, I believe you. You’re my best friend and so far from selfish there is.”

You’re rambling, trying to get your point across. Jeongguk keeps his head straight, not looking at you beside him.

“Besides, did you see her when we left? She pulled her stomach back in and went to drink at the bar. She’s just trying to sabotage.”

It’s cold outside, the freezing air starting to get to you. You lean into his side.

A moment of silence passes. Your head is at a standstill while your fingers start to go numb.

“Are you okay?”

Surprised, you lean away to look up at his face. His eyes are on the way you’re holding his hand like your life depends on it.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to keep you from leaving me,” you laugh nervously. “Cause, if you leave me here all alone because of this, I think I’ll break.”

His eyes widen subtly, and he turns to face you entirely. “I’m not… I’m not leaving,” he assures, pulling you closer and hugging you to his chest. “It’s cold, let’s get inside.”

But your feet aren’t moving like his, and he has to stop and look back at you where you stand. 

“Come here,” he nods, and when you don’t, he pulls on your hand until you’re in his arms. “Thank you for standing up for me. I’m not leaving. It’s… hard, it really is, but I’m not leaving. Now, let’s go get our stuff and say goodbye and we can go home, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod meagerly against his warm chest. You’re quick to let go when the first signs come, but not with Jeongguk. Not anymore. Even if it’s a pathetic attempt, you have to fight at least a bit.

At home in his apartment, you lie on top of him between the warm sheets, and you talk it out. How you definitely knew Tzuyu was faking but also how you wouldn't have left even if he found out he had a kid on the way. He offered to help you raise Namjoon’s baby, back when all you were were friends, and how could you do anything but the same for him? You love him.

Jeongguk tells you that it’s difficult to break old habits, but that he at least thinks he’s on the right path. Tzuyu never reaches out again.

Eventually, the day of Jeongguk’s first test arrives. At least according to him. It’s your first holiday together, not including Christmas because no one who is a part of a Christmas-celebrating society could ever evade its snowy claws. 

It’s Valentine’s.

Valentine’s has never held much importance to you; you’ve never been with anyone who really wanted to celebrate it, and it honestly doesn’t matter a whole lot to you either.

Still, you buy a bracelet for Jeongguk, the same kind he really liked but accidentally broke when he forgot to remove it at the gym. And you pick up a single red rose on your way from the train station. Unfortunately, you had an early meeting in a different city and thus had to spend the previous night at a hotel.

Like always, you steer your steps toward Jeongguk’s apartment without as much as a glance toward your own. You tap your thumb and index finger together. You haven’t heard from him today, and that makes you a little nervous that today’s date might’ve slipped his mind. 

It would definitely sadden you, but only because you know how shit that would make him feel. Especially now that you’ve gotten him a gift.

You could’ve reminded him, but you also know how bad it would make him feel like to have to be reminded. Or like you don’t trust him to remember.

So your plan is to not make a big deal out of it if it turns out that he has forgotten it.

The apartment is quiet when you unlock the door and step inside, and the moment you bend down to remove your shoes, you’re reminded how incredibly tired you are.

”Gguk?” You call, taking your jacket off too and hanging it on the coat rack. ”Love?”

To be on the safe side, you place the plastic-wrapped rose on the shelf for the moment.

”In the bedroom,” his voice rings.

Having missed him for more than twenty four hours, you immediately set your sight on the closed bedroom door.

You’re not sure what you expected Jeongguk to be doing inside, maybe napping or watching something on his laptop. Perhaps even cleaning out his closet. 

What you didn’t expect was to be greeted by him in the bed, seemingly naked and tied up.

It makes you falter in your step as you take him in. His naked chest and arms, hands tied by rope to the headboard, his messy black hair, and the way the sheets rest just above his hips, dangerously low.

”How long have you been like that?” you ask, eyeing the rope. It doesn’t look like something he can get out of by himself. ”What if there was a fire or something?”

Jeongguk smiles, ”Don’t worry, I only slipped my hands into them as I heard you unlock the door.”

”Oh. Okay. Good. …So… why are you tied up?” you question, continuing to look him up and down. Truth be told, you’ve never seen anything more mouthwatering.

”Well, it’s Valentine’s—happy Valentine’s—and I remember you saying that you wished you could tie me up like two weeks ago? So… you can. Or, I mean, I am.”

You chuckle fondly, wrangling your sweatshirt from your body and leaving you in a t-shirt and jeans. ”Happy Valentine’s.”

Next to go are the jeans, and you catch Jeongguk’s wandering eyes as you slide them down your legs.

”But you do remember that I said I wanted to tie you up just so I could subject you to so much cuddling you’d probably die? Right?”

He watches you put a knee on the bed and then crawl toward him.

”I know. And I’m giving you the opportunity to do that, or just… whatever you want,” he smirks happily.

”So,” you start, your hand coming to rest at his sternum while you lean your weight on your other arm, ”your gift to me is… you?”

But your words aren’t very well-thought out, and you see his smile slowly fall and hesitancy color his eyes.

”Uh, no, I—I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I—there’s a present for you in the kitchen too, but this was just—”

”Gguk, I didn’t mean it like that,” you interrupt, his heartbeat strong under your palm. 

”I’d rather have you and get to spend time with you than literally anything else.”

Jeongguk relaxes, and you smile, running your fingers up to trace his collarbones. ”Do you mind if I nap for like half an hour before deciding what to do with you? I couldn’t sleep at the hotel, so I’m absolutely exhausted.”

”Of course, you can do whatever you want,” he assures, confidence visibly creeping back up.

”Good,” you stand from the bed, pretending you don’t notice him staring at your ass as you flick the lights off.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and as they do, you climb back into the bed, searching for Jeongguk’s warm body. Your hand touches his stomach, and you trail it down to grasp the duvet and pull it higher over your bodies.

”I missed you,” you whisper, laying your head on Jeongguk’s chest and releasing an exhausted breath. ”It’s so hard to sleep without you these days—oh, you really are naked,” you chuckle when you lower your hand and feel a bit more skin than you expected.

Jeongguk’s only response is to laugh at your discovery as if that wasn’t the whole point.

”I guess it’s only fair that I…” you sit up to pull the t-shirt over your head and chuck it—along with your bra—to the floor.

You pretend like you can’t make out the almost pained expression on your boyfriend’s face when you lie back down again.

”Aren’t you gonna release me?” He asks, bewildered. ”If you’re going to sleep?”

It makes you snicker, ”I don’t know, I think I’m pretty fond of this arrangement.”

You hear Jeongguk sigh in defeat and acceptance, but you still lift your head to look at his face. ”Is it uncomfortable?”

The reassuring smile he wears is sweet when he shakes his head. ”No, it’s fine. Sleep.”

But having your hands suspended at any angle for a longer period of time would make anyone uncomfortable, and so you sit up once more, hands reaching up to release him from the ropes.

”Don’t get too happy; I’m definitely tying you back up later. If you want, of course.”

But the smile on Jeongguk’s face only grows as he shakes the blood back into his fingers, and before you know it, you’re on your back, and he’s turned to the side, leaning over you.

”I thought you were supposed to be sweet, yet here you are, baring your boobs but not letting me touch.”

You chuckle at what’s become a recurring theme, and instinctively, your hands reach for his face.

”Oh, no,” he tuts playfully, leaning all his weight on his elbow and gathering both your wrists in his other hand like he’s become so fond of doing.

”Gguk,” you complain dramatically, ”I wanted to touch.”

”Oh, I know that, but did you ever think about me? I think it’s definitely my turn.”

Being exposed before his eyes isn’t scary, it’s more of a thrill that makes you hold your breath for a second or two. It’s not scary because although Jeongguk is a prime specimen of a man, putting literally everyone else to shame and appearing like he definitely knows it, there’s always that soft, loving hue to his eyes.

Jeongguk meets your gaze, and when he doesn’t find anything but love and happiness—and maybe a bit of a faux pout—he brings your wrists over your head to hold in his other hand.

His free hand mimics your earlier actions, trailing a straight line from the middle of your collar bones, down to your sternum. Then he traces the outer shape of your left breast, where the fat meets your ribcage.

You let him continue with his feather light ministrations, the touch intensifying your tiredness.

”Gguk,” you whine again, ”Let me…”

You see him tear his eyes from your breasts and look at your hands that are making grabbing motions. It makes him laugh.

”You should’ve thought of that before you decided to be weak.”

You pout. ”I know you want to, though. Just imagine… my hands in your hair… on your back…”

You’re too sleepy to start something sexual, you both know that. Despite your eyes being half-closed by now, you’re able to make out the flash of contemplation. It makes you smile happily, and you can’t believe you ever doubted Jeongguk’s need for physical touch. Your physical touch.

In the end, it wins and he lets go of your hands. A heavy sigh, containing only happiness and relief of being with someone you love, slips past your lips the moment he lowers his head enough for you to tangle your hands in his hair.

They work almost on autopilot, the movements of carding through his dark hair so familiar by now, and they only travel down to the top of his shoulders to hug him to you shortly before you lose your consciousness. You’ve never felt so safe, not with your body or mind. And not with your heart either.

Turns out that Jeongguk, except for gifting himself, also prepared to cook dinner, and when you later exchange gifts, he gives you a blue polaroid camera and the sweetest little pendant necklace. He never once forgets Valentine’s.

Speaking of cameras and pictures, not long after, Jeongguk reveals something to you.

You glance at yourself in Jeongguk’s bathroom mirror as you place your toothbrush into the cup and smoothen your hair down.

He turns his head when you step out, smiling at your outfit that consists of one of his large t-shirts and a pair of clean cotton panties. Otherwise, he’s exactly where you left him.

”Your turn,” you reach the bed, crawling on top of it to sit beside him. He’s truly a vision, lying naked and on his back, his softening cock resting on his lower stomach.

Your hand finds his warm chest that’s not heaving anymore. ”Or do you want me to clean you up?”

Jeongguk lifts his large hand to put it over yours. ”No, I’ll do it. Just… in a minute.”

Slowly, his smile falls, and he turns his focus onto the ceiling. ”I… need to tell you something.”

The change in mood, how his voice suddenly sounds both serious and nervous, starts to worry you.

”What is it?” You ask gently.

”You know… in college? When we… slept together?”

You pull your hand from out underneath his to lay it over it instead, your thumb stroking the back of it. ”Yeah?”

”Well, after… when you were asleep, I…”

You watch him gulp.

”I took a picture of you.”

You feel your eyebrows lift slightly as you consider his confession and what it means. You were naked and unconscious, and the way he seems so regretful forces you to wonder what the purpose was. Proof for the bet? That he succeeded in bedding a virgin? But you know he wasn’t with you for the bet anymore by then, so what makes him so nervous?

”I get that you probably think it was creepy, and I’m sorry. I—I was never going to show it to anyone, and I didn’t. It was just… for me. N—not to jerk off over or anything sexual, just as a memory.”

You bite your lip, eyes lingering on your hands. Although his worried words could creep you out, they don’t. You know Jeongguk, even back then, and you trust him. Besides, by how he tends to hate himself over the smallest things he considers mistakes, you don’t want to know how he’d deal with having spread nude and unconscious photos of you.

”Do you still have it?”

At that, he looks at you, seemingly surprised at your soft curiosity.

”Uh, yeah… I do,” he admits, looking away again as if he’d hoped you wouldn’t ask. “I’ll delete it right now if you want.”

”Can I see it?”

Surprised, he nods once, sitting up and reaching for his phone on the nightstand. You see him put his code into the device–a code you already know–and navigate through it.

He’s biting his lip nervously when he hands you the phone, awaiting your reaction.

You’re not exactly sure what you expected the picture to portray. Well, you, of course, judging by his words, but definitely not what you’re faced with.

The photo isn’t crystal clear like the ones Jeongguk’s expensive camera produces. It’s a bit grainy, obviously taken in a low-light setting. And you see yourself. You’re lying on Jeongguk’s chest, and sure, you look to be naked, but the picture is taken from above so all you see is the parts of your upper back that’s not covered by your hair.

The hair also covers some of your face, so it’s not even a hundred percent clear that it’s you. And the best part: Jeongguk. He looks carefree, smiling with his lower face nuzzled into your hair as well, and he looks into the camera with his big, brown eyes. He looks so young, so happy.

“I’ll still delete it if you want,” you hear from beside you.

But you hold the phone to your chest when you look up to meet his eyes. “Can I have it?”

Surprised, Jeongguk only nods, and you turn your attention back on the phone, sending it to your own device.

“You’re not upset?” he asks quietly, “not even a bit?”

“No,” you answer earnestly. “It’s not… you didn’t have bad intentions, and… I find it sweet. Besides, it’s the only picture of us from back then.” 

“Yeah… I just couldn’t delete it. I’ve looked at it so much over the years, probably more than what was good for me, but I just…”

Jeongguk trails off, and you understand him, you really do. You don’t know if you would’ve looked at it if the roles were reversed, but you know you definitely wouldn’t have deleted it either.

“But now we can take all the pictures,” you grin before realizing something that makes your eyes widen.

“What?” Jeongguk questions, but you’re already off the bed, opening the drawer where he keeps some of his camera gear. And your blue polaroid camera.

“Give me your hand,” you ask as you’re starting it up, looking through the viewfinder.

“No, not my hands.”

You lower the camera from your face. He still doesn’t have a thread of clothing on his body, but his hands are what he’s worried about, “Why not?”

“Because they’re not nice?” he states before reaching for the camera. “I can take one of yours if you want?”

Your mouth is left open as you blink at him, and you definitely don’t let him take the camera. “Jeongguk, I’m taking full offense by that. Your hands are so nice. Look.”

His eyes leave yours, and you watch him lower them to take in the sight before him. Your hand holding his, slowly intertwining your fingers. 

“Not only are your hands, like, very masculine and attractive to look at,” you smile cheekily, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek, “but they’re so warm. And they fit so well with mine. Not to brag but I’ve held a lot of hands in my days.”

He raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. “But yours are by far my favorite to hold. And not only do they help when mine aren’t strong enough, but you know exactly how to use them to make me feel better.”

Jeongguk’s smile grows suspiciously wide, and you stop to think about what you said.

“Gguk, I meant when my back hurts.”

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to think about anything else when my hands were touching a lot of other things like ten minutes ago?”

You roll your eyes, “Of course. I guess that just proves my point, doesn’t it? I love you, and your hands, and everything you use them for.”

You position your intertwined hands in the prettiest way you can before putting the camera to your eye once more. This time, he lets you, and a few seconds later, a small square polaroid comes out.

You’ve barely placed the camera and the picture, face down to develop, on the nightstand when Jeongguk pulls you down by your shirt. Landing beside him, you giggle as he pulls you closer.

“You know, I really can’t believe this,” he states, smiling cheekily.

“Believe what?”

“You know, I used to fantasize about you. Even when we were just friendly neighbors, I used to picture you in my clothes.”

The fabric of his white cotton t-shirt stretches as he pulls on it. “I thought about you, wearing them cause you missed me, but I never thought–”

Of course, you know what it is he never thought would happen. You and him being together.

“I like wearing them,” you admit. “Especially like this, when you’ve just worn them, and they’re still warm and smell like you.”

His smile widens, and he looks even more youthful than normally. “You like how I smell?”

“Gguk, I’ve told you already, yes. I love the way you smell. Both when you’re clean and wearing cologne but also when you’re in the middle of working out. It’s gotta be pheromones and biology,” you mumble.

It has to. Because even when he’s sweaty and the cologne’s worn off, Jeongguk smells so… attractive to you.

“Gotta be that monkey brain,” he swears, making you laugh.

“Definitely.”

With your head on your pillow, you close your eyes, but it isn’t long until you feel Jeongguk do something with your hair. For a minute, you let him, until you’re too curious.

“What are you doing?”

“You know what else I fantasized about?”

“Uh… my tits?”

He snorts, and you open your eyes.

“Yes. Always. But something that isn’t your body. Or well, I guess it’s sorta about your body.”

“Hmm, I don’t know?”

“I’ve always wanted to photograph you. Like this, intimate but not necessarily naked and with your hair all over the pillow. In my bed.”

So that’s what he was doing, positioning your hair into what would make a good picture.

“I hope you’ll let me do that someday. No one else has to see them if you don’t want to. Honestly, I’ve got so many ideas for shoots, if you’ll let me.”

You watch his face as he concentrates on a strand of your hair he keeps between his fingers. It brings you endless happiness that despite everything, Jeongguk followed his dreams and became a photographer, and the smile that pulls on your mouth surely reflects that.

“You’re saying I inspire you?”

“Of course. You’re the love of my life.”

You stop breathing. It’s one thing to know that he loves you, that you’re still his first love and possibly his last too, but it’s an entirely different thing to hear it. The love of his life.

He doesn’t look nervous even though you’re pretty much rendered speechless. He just looks happy, warm, brown eyes gazing down at you.

Finally, your words return to you, and you lift your hand to the back of his neck. “And you’re mine. I can’t say I’ll be a good model, but you can try if you want.”

“Doubt that. I think you’ll be perfect.”

Speaking of his profession, you’re reminded of another thing you’re sure you’ve talked about briefly but still want to bring up again, just to make sure.

“Also… I’m sorry for asking you to photograph the wedding.”

It’ll always fill you with guilt, knowing what pain you were inflicting on him, asking him to do that. And just as much, knowing that he would’ve done it without complaints.

“It’s okay,” he assures, and you believe him, that he’s worked through a lot of it. “Have you talked to him recently?”

You don’t need to hear his name to know who Jeongguk means. “Yeah. Around a week ago. I found an old shirt of his, so I asked if he wanted it back. Turned out to be his favorite shirt that he thought he lost years ago, so he said he’ll try to come by and pick it up.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, curious instead of saddened or suspicious. “...Do you miss him?”

You lift your hand to trace his jaw with your fingers absentmindedly, “Honestly, I think I do. But it’s… I sometimes miss him, just as a person? Someone who I shared a lot of my life with. A friend. It’s sad what had to happen to us, and I know it was my fault, so I guess… I don’t know. I don’t think about him every day, and I know the good days and moments didn’t outweigh the… bad match.”

“Do you feel guilty?”

“Yeah. But I know it was for his best too.”

Jeongguk plays with the hair behind your ear, looking deeper in thought than a minute ago.

“But you know, it couldn’t be clearer to me? I might miss him sometimes, a gloomy feeling in my chest, but when I think of you, having to part from you… it hurts. I missed you so much after college, and just the thought of not seeing you, I–”

You’re rarely this emotional, but something about the way he looks at you tonight has you choking up.

“Don’t cry,” he soothes, and you take a deep breath to blink the tears away before they escape. “I understand. You’re allowed to miss him, I don’t mind that, and I’m not worried.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, “I hope so dearly that he finds what I have, someone that means to him what you mean to me.”  

Everything’s a blur. Well, not everything but some things are. You and Yuna have been dancing for what feels like hours and hours, until your surroundings were spinning a bit too much and you couldn't anymore.

At the moment, you’ve plopped down on the black leather seat of a booth, Yuna on the other side, and your eyes focus mindlessly on people still on the dance floor. 

You start to feel tired after a while, but you’re not exactly sure how long you’re sitting there. A deep exhale leaves your lips as you rest your head on the table, your hair surely going everywhere.

It’s easy to say that you’re a bit more drunk than you’ve been in a very long time.

A hand starts to rub your shoulder, but you hardly notice until a voice also calls your name. Tiredly, you lift your head, a smile immediately pulling on your lips when you’re faced with your favorite pair of brown eyes.

“Gguk?”

He hums, hands fixing your hair and tucking it behind your ear.

“What… you doing here?” you ask, and to no surprise at all, it comes out… a bit slurred.

“Yuna called me,” he smirks, nodding his head toward your friend who holds her phone to her ear, also looking tired as hell. Maybe a little less than you, though. “Yoongi’s on his way for her.”

“And you came for me?” you can’t help the adoring pout from forming.

Jeongguk laughs, grasping your arm. “Of course. Now, can you walk outside by yourself? I’d carry you but people might think I’m kidnapping you.”

You nod, letting him help you out of the booth, and with his support, you’re able to walk. After hearing Jeongguk greet Yoongi, you turn to wave goodbye to Yuna–you know you’ll be texting in the morning anyway–and allow Jeongguk to lead the way.

He walks slowly, and you hold onto his arm maybe a little too tight. When you catch a whiff of him and are reminded how incredibly good he always smells, you can’t resist leaning your head against his arm too, sneakily sniffing him. 

He’s dressed in a basic black sweater and jeans on the baggier side, and he looks so good. As you follow him through the crowded bar, you close your eyes, imagining… him. 

He’s yours, and he’s perfect, and he’s kind, and he’s lovely.

And he’s hot. Stupidly fucking sexy. 

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of Jeongguk’s car, and he’s leaned over you to fasten your seatbelt. Which you won’t deny is kinda cute of him. But it also leaves you once again enveloped in his masculine scent, and you think your heart might somersault out of your chest.

“There,” he steps back, smiling down at you happily in the most devastating way that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. God damn him for having such a hold on your heart.

Unknowing of your thoughts, he closes the door and rounds the car to get inside on the driver’s side.

You watch his hands as he starts the engine, and you let out the biggest breath you think you’ve ever taken. Jeongguk glances at you briefly with a curious look.

“I’m so happy I found you again,” you slur, feeling almost like you’re about to cry.

Jeongguk just chuckles, filled with fondness. “Technically, wasn’t it me who found you again?”

“What?”

“Yeah? I approached you, so technically, I found you.”

You narrow your eyes, choosing to look out the window, “Don’t make me take it back.”

Jeongguk’s laughter fills the car, and you feel him grasp your hand. It’s sweet, the way he holds it, and he even brings it to his face to kiss the back of it. 

However, somehow, you dropped your mind and it ended up in the gutter. All you can think of at that moment is his mouth. His lips and his tongue and his teeth. You think back to him between your legs, how he places kiss after kiss just like that one on your legs, higher and higher until he–

You squirm in the car seat, and Jeongguk lowers your still intertwined hands to focus on the road.

Five minutes later, and he pulls up at your shared street. Unsurprisingly, he exits the car and heads over to your side, opening your door while you're still struggling with the seatbelt. It looks like he wants to help you, but it snaps open right before he can. 

Like a real gentleman, Jeongguk offers you his hand and pulls you up and out of the car, closing the door behind you and locking the car. 

“Now…” he starts, and you’d recognize that spark of mischief anywhere, even when you’re plastered.

Your eyes widen when the ground disappears from under your feet, but you’re experienced enough by now to automatically hook your arm around his neck as he carries you bridal style toward the heavy door.

It takes you two tries to enter the code and thirty seconds to even remember it in the first place. Meanwhile, Jeongguk is just waiting patiently. Maybe also quietly chuckling.

He then carries you to the elevator, where you at least manage to press the number six on the first try.

Being carried by him makes your drunk heart melt, but it doesn’t help very much with how you were feeling in the car. Or even the bar.

Because underneath the sweatshirt, you can feel practically every solid muscle in his arms and chest. Completely unashamed, you stare at him through the mirror in the elevator, not even reacting when he raises a brow at you back. 

It’s just everything about him. His fucking hair, framing his face so perfectly, even when it’s still pretty short. And his neck… you turn your head. You’re able to see the faintest outline of that huge fucking vein that really pops out when Jeongguk’s doing strenuous exercise, and you want really really badly to kiss his neck.

Unfortunately, the elevator dings right then, and Jeongguk steps out. You lean your head against him as he walks to his door, and then you sigh when he has to let you down to open the door.

Surely, picking up on it, he wastes no time in picking you back up though when you’re both inside and your shoes are off.

“Time for bed,” he smirks, but doesn’t steer his steps toward the bedroom but the bathroom. “But let's get your makeup off first.”

“Nooo, Gguk, I’m too tired,” you whine, closing your eyes and going limp in his arms to prove your point.

For a second, he stops. Then he turns around and enters the bedroom instead. You keep your eyes closed even as he lays you down on the bed and leaves the room.

It’s quiet and peaceful for a moment. At least a bit, truth be told, your ears still ring a tad from the bar’s loud music.

Then you feel something kinda wet against your cheek.

“What’re you doin?” you ask, struggling a bit to open your eyes.

“I know you’ve said you feel bad if you sleep in your makeup,” he answers warmly, “So I’m removing it.”

It’s your makeup wipes he’s using, you realize. You also note that he’s very careful, wiping the black eyeliner and mascara from your eyes before taking a new wipe and going over the rest of your face. 

If you were sober, you’d gush to yourself about how nice it feels, not only to have Jeongguk’s gentle hands on your face, but to be cared for like that. 

“Okay, I’m done. Now, sit up.”

A bit unwillingly, you flutter your eyes open again. Jeongguk is sitting on the bed beside you, holding your toothbrush out to you in one hand and a cup in the other.

“Or do you want me to brush your teeth too?” he jokes, but once again, if you were sober, you would’ve thought about how he doesn’t look like he’d mind all that much.

With a quiet huff–that grants another chuckle from Jeongguk–you sit up and accept the toothbrush. He sets the cup down on the bedside table before he disappears into the bathroom.

Left alone, you decide to just get the brushing over with, stopping once your mouth is full of foam to spit it out in the cup. Turns out that the task also wakes you up a bit, and when you’re done, you think that you might as well go and put the things back in the bathroom.

You don’t know what you expected because Jeongguk has most likely never in his entire life slept voluntarily in a shirt, but when you enter the bathroom, you’re faced with his naked back.

“You done?”

Your head snaps up, and you meet his eyes through the mirror above the sink. He’s just putting back his own toothbrush and turns to take yours as well, rinsing it and the cup before placing them back.

It’s when you see him (un)dressed for bed, in only a pair of black shorts that you remember that you’re still in your black jeans and intricate top. Fittingly, you also spot the t-shirt he must’ve been wearing under the sweatshirt, laying discarded over the washing machine.

Almost too happily, you grab it, smiling cheekily when Jeongguk notices what you’re doing.

“No, not that one. It’s dirty,” he warns, but you hold it up briefly, and there aren’t any stains on the white fabric.

“No, it’s not,” you bring it to your face to breathe in his scent. It smells just like him and not bad or dirty in any way.

“Give it,” he warns, but you can tell even in your drunken state that he’s not all that serious. And you want it.

“No.”

He tries to swipe it from you, but you hold it to your chest with everything you’ve got. “Gguk, I’m not giving up. It’s mine.”

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat, still smiling in amusement.

When he goes to wash his face, and you’re certain he won’t try to steal it from you again, you pull your top over your head and thereafter unhook your bra. They fall to the floor, and you put Jeongguk’s shirt on. 

Usually pretty good at picking up your stuff, you decide to leave your clothes in a pile on Jeongguk’s bathroom floor, adding your jeans to it after pushing them down your legs.

However Jeongguk, still smiling as he turns around after having dried his face on a towel, doesn’t share your intentions and bends down to pick them up. He places them where he originally put his clothes, and then he approaches the door and you. 

You back up as he comes closer, noticing how his smile smoothly turns into a very attractive smirk. He’s so… so.. attractive. So gorgeous, so stunning.

“Time for bed, okay?”

You peer up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Carry me?”

He laughs, but closes the distance to pick you up–by your thighs this time–for the nth time only that night. Like always, you wrap your arm around his neck, enjoying the feeling of his warm muscles through your–his–shirt.

He heads for your side of the bed and tries to lay you down again, but you don’t let go of his neck, instead you wrap your other arm around it too.

“Are you gonna let go so I can get in bed too?”

“No.”

“No?” he chuckles. One of your hands ventures just below the back of his neck to feel his shoulder muscles.

“Gguk?”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to rail me.”

He stills, but doesn’t redirect his gaze from your face. You think you hear him let out an amused breath, but you can’t really focus on that because soon after, you feel his hand on your naked thigh.

The touch is light, just his fingers stroking slowly over the skin on your outer thigh.

“I want to do everything you ask of me, believe me,” he smiles down at you. “But not that. Not while you’re drunk.”

“But you’ve fucked me while I was drunk before,” you pout, arms pulling him closer. “And you’re so hot, I want you all over me. And in me. Please, Gguk? I want you.”

“Yeah, when I was drunk too,” he chuckles. “It’s different like this; I’m not gonna do it.”

If you were sober, you would’ve moved on already, but drunk you is not as clear in the head, and she keeps sulking.

“You know what?”

“What?” you ask, entirely mesmerized by Jeongguk’s pretty face.

“If you’re a good girl and go to sleep now, I’ll ‘rail you’ tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Sure.”

“Okay then.”

He waits for you to let go of him, but you don’t. 

“Honey, you gotta let go of me so I can sleep too.”

“Can I kiss you at least? Not even with tongue, just a kiss?”

Laughing quietly, Jeongguk nods, and you immediately press your lips against his. But you can’t really stop yourself from also moving your mouth and pressing short kisses to the rest of his face. He laughs but lets you kiss him all you want.

“Best boyfriend ever. And so sweet and kind. Love you so much I think I might die.”

“Don’t die, please. Are you done?” he questions when you loosen your hold on him just enough to look at his face.

“No, never!” But before you can kiss his cheek for the seventh time, Jeongguk ducks under your arms. “What? No,” you whine.

“Hold on,” he chuckles as he rounds the bed, “I’m just getting into bed.”

With half-closed eyes, you watch him get under the duvet only to hold it open for you, and you don’t need more of an invitation than that.

Your head is pounding when you wake up the next morning. The sun shining through the blinds is too bright, and you groan quietly.

Right then, Jeongguk enters the bedroom, holding a tall glass of water in one hand and something small in his other. He gives you an empathic look.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like death,” you reply, trying to look at him properly but it’s too bright. You can at least tell he hasn’t gotten dressed yet, still shirtless and in the shorts he slept in.

“Figured. Here, take this and you’ll hopefully feel better.”

You sit up and reach your hand out to take the painkillers from him. Once you’ve popped them into your mouth, he hands you the glass, and you chase them down with the water.

Placing the half-empty glass on the bedside table, you lie back down with a huff.

“Sleep some more?” Jeongguk assumes, and you nod in response.

“Okay,” he heads back toward the door, “let me know if you need anything. And of course, when you’re feeling better, it seems like I have some railing to do.”

His teasing words have you almost choking on your own saliva, and when you sit up halfway to look at him just as he’s leaving the room, he’s smirking, clearly very entertained.

“You’re a menace!” you call, hearing his laughter. 

With warm cheeks, you bury your face in your pillow.

At around two p.m., you flutter your eyes open, finally feeling better. At least good enough to leave the bed. 

So you do. But you don’t bother getting dressed, instead exiting Jeongguk’s bedroom in just his shirt and your panties. 

The TV sounds through the apartment and you soon find him in the living room, still shirtless and tapping away at his laptop. 

You’ve had some time to… uh, consider your actions from the night before, and you know you’re a single suggestive word from Jeongguk away from blushing.

He looks up at you when you approach, but the smile he gives is more sweet than smug.

“Feeling better?” 

You nod, grabbing a blanket from the armrest because it is a little bit chilly in your current outfit. It makes you miss the warmth of his bed.

He places the laptop beside him on the couch, and you take the opportunity to climb onto his lap with the blanket hanging from your shoulders and cuddling up to him.

“You’re so warm,” you groan, leaning your head against his neck and placing your hands against his chest.

Jeongguk rubs your back soothingly and you can hear his chuckle.

“By the way, I’m sorry for yesterday. For being annoying and, uh, coming onto you like that.”

“Oh, absolutely don’t worry about that. If anything it was cute and quite entertaining. Kinda also pretty good for my confidence. I’m sorry for teasing you about it.”

You straighten up on his lap, now able to look him in the eyes. “Gguk, don’t apologize. You know that I think you’re funny? And that I think it’s even funnier when you think you’re funny. Besides, you were a lot more teasing in college and it didn’t exactly stop me from falling head first for you.”

He pulls you closer, gazing up at you lovingly. “And if your confidence wasn’t great before last night, I’m sure it’s perfectly fine now with the way I was stroking your ego,” you huff.

At least Jeongguk took your words to heart, because what he says next makes you gasp.

“It wasn’t the only thing you wanted to stroke last night.”

“Jeongguk, oh my God!”

As soon as you’re able to pick your jaw off the ground, you lower your hands to Jeongguk’s naked sides to tickle him. He laughs, more so because of your reaction than your tickling, but you don’t care.

Eventually, you stop, trailing your hands back up his chest and to his face as you’re both catching your breaths. “I love you, Gguk. Just the way you are, without any filters.”

“I’ll make you regret saying that,” he jokes.

“Doubt it,” you smile happily before taking on a cheekier tone, “Also…”

Eyebrows raised, Jeongguk hums questioningly.

“…I think you have some railing to do.”

He blinks a few times before his lips form a smirk, “Oh? Well, your wish is my command.”

And with one hand on your back, he manages to somehow lay you down on your back on the couch and lean over you, looking like a literal dream with his slightly messy black hair and teasing eyes. You’re so happy, and your cheeks hurt from smiling.

“I mean, only if you want to.”

“Honey, you do know that all you’re wearing is panties and my shirt, right? I couldn’t resist you even if I wanted to.”

The seasons change, and soon, winter melts away.

When summer arrives–your first as a couple–it’s only natural that you tag along to Jin and Mina’s vacation house. By now, Jeongguk is much more relaxed around you and his friends, to the point where they aren’t as scared to tease him anymore. For a long while, they walked on eggshells around him. Well, sometimes they still do, at least when it comes to certain topics, but not as much.

“So what would you pick for me, then? There are two that people usually pick for me, can you guess them?”

You concentrate on Tae’s face where he sits on the other side of the wooden outdoor table. He keeps a neutral face, skin sun-kissed and black hair slightly bleached.

“I have no idea. Penguin?”

“Penguin?!”

“Yeah?” you shrug, “Is that so weird?”

“Yes? People usually say tiger or bear.”

“Oh. Well, I can sorta see it, but I wouldn’t say it was very clear. Not like…

“Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk. Okay, I can agree on that one,” Taehyung says, observing the man sitting beside you.

“Yeah, I don’t usually go around, liking people to animals, you know, but I’ve never seen anyone resemble a deer so much.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, “A deer?! Are you crazy, woman?”

You look at him questioningly before turning to your boyfriend, inspecting his face like you don’t spend most of your waking time gazing lovingly at him. 

“...Kangaroo?”

“Okay, you’re mental. You’re supposed to know him better than anyone, but you can’t even tell that he’s a bunny?”

“A bunny?”

Your face is colored by confusion as Taehyung rises from his seat. “Yes.”

“I don’t know. I mean… it’s the Bambi eyes for me. So either a deer or a kangaroo. Kangaroos are basically just jacked up deer that are able to walk–hop–upright. Boxing and all that too.”

“I get your point,” he hums, grabbing your boyfriend by the hair. Jeongguk, who was reading something on his phone, lets him but narrows his eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him attempt to start a fire with Jeongguk’s hair between his hands. 

Taehyung steps back, smiling proudly when one side of Jeongguk’s hair stands upright, like a… cone? Quickly, he nods to himself and repeats the process on the other half.

“Look at this. Ggukkie, do the thing.”

“No.”

“Yes, do the thing.”

“Fine,” Jeongguk sighs, looking at you and scrunching his nose. Even his front teeth peek out, and it’s absolutely the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh god,” you gasp. “Tae, you’re right.” Naturally, your hands fly to Jeongguk’s face, holding it in your hands with wonder in your eyes. “You are so cute. My bunny.”

Slightly more accepting of your shenanigans than Tae’s, Jeongguk lets you squish his cheeks and kiss his pouty lips.

“Love you too, bye.”

After ending the call to your mother, you lock your phone and place it into your pocket. You hadn’t talked to her in a week, so she had lots to say. About thirty minutes of it, actually.

When you return to Taehyung and Jeongguk, Jin and Jimin have joined as well, talking amongst themselves. As you near the table, you let yourself take in the sight of your boyfriend’s back. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with his black shorts, and you particularly like… well, his back. 

Reaching him, you drape yourself over him from behind.

“Hi,” you greet quietly, not wanting to interrupt whatever they were talking about, and you place your hand and the apple you’d retrieved from the house in front of his face.

Jeongguk holds your hand still as he takes a bite, mumbling something to Jimin soon after.

You’re in the middle of very discretely sniffing Jeongguk’s hair when a call of your name grabs your attention. Turning your head, you find Jin looking at you, and soon enough, the rest of the guys too.

“Was there a certain time when you realized you loved Jeongguk? Like, do you know the exact moment you fell in love?”

“Yeah,” you answer casually, taking a bite of the red apple.

“Really? When?” Jin wonders, and you feel a surprised and curious Jeongguk try to turn his head in order to look at you.

Unable to see your boyfriend’s face, you ask him, “You remember when we used to study in the library?”

“Yes?” 

“That one time when you first complimented my nails?”

“Yeah…”

“You also warmed my hands in yours, and I knew then.”

“What?” he breathes, “But that was… It was…”

“Early on?” you continue for him, “Yeah, but you were so sweet to me. And funny. I felt like I got to know you so quickly, and you really brightened my mornings. I just really enjoyed being around you, so honestly, I was down bad before it even started.”

“He’s crying!” Jin laughs, clapping his hands together.

Jeongguk huffs, doing something with his hands you can only guess is drying his tears. “No, I’m not!”

“Told you, you owe me twenty!”

You gasp, “You guys are mean, betting on who can make him cry,” you scold, hugging Jeongguk to your body and rubbing his arm.

“We didn’t. We were just talking about the fact that he’s not as big of a crybaby anymore. He only really cries for one person.”

“Yeah,” Jimin adds, “It’s kinda cute, actually. He’s all tough now, but anything remotely sentimental from or about you, and he’s weeping.”

“Dude, why didn’t I pick her as my target? She’s so sweet–I want someone to be sweet to me, too,” Taehyung complains, making you roll your eyes. If you know one thing, it’s that he does not have the hots for you in any way.

“Why does everyone think I’ll love just anyone?” you question.

“Because you do?” Taehyung replies, one brow raised. “You literally just said that you loved Jeongguk after, like, two weeks.”

“It was more than two weeks. Besides, I’d already had my eyes on him for quite some time.”

“Oh?” Jin voices, curiously leaning in. 

You also think you hear Jeongguk utter a surprised ‘what?’ as he tries to look back up at you again, this time more successful, and you meet his wide eyes.

“I meant, like, appreciating you from afar. In a totally non-creepy way. Everyone knew who all of you were, and I just thought you were handsome.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” he asks, sounding almost distraught.

“Cause I knew you wouldn’t have spared me a second look,” you smile, “We were in totally different leagues.”

“Definitely not true, you’re actually a lot prettier than him,” Jin assures, making you laugh.

“I just knew nothing would come of it. We were in different social circles, and I knew you were into more… casual things. I wasn’t, so it wouldn’t have worked out. Besides, for a period of time, I had a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah. Asshole,” Jeongguk grumbles.

He continues to complain, and you smile as you hug him tightly.

“I mean, I get why you didn’t talk to me cause I was an ass too, but I still think you should’ve.”

You just chuckle and kiss his cheek.

You’re really, really fond of Jin and Mina’s vacation house. It’s been three days out of seven, and so far, you’ve had a blast.

On the third day, you all squeeze into two cars with the beach as your destination, and the boys are incredibly excited. Remembering when you first met Jeongguk again and he told you that they only play soccer ‘on the beach, during the summer,’ it’s clear that this is what he meant.

You’re not exactly a soccer talent, yourself, so you settle for lying down on your towel with Mina and Ryujin to soak up the sun. 

Unpacking the towel and the book you’re currently reading, the bottle of sunscreen also tumbles out of your bag. You’ve already applied a layer, but as you peer over to the big bag of stuff that the guys brought, you see them excitedly unpack a ball and, while tackling each other over it, run toward the goal posts sticking out of the sand in what could be considered quite a sad excuse for a soccer field. Not that they seem to mind.

“Gguk,” you call, “sunscreen, please.”

“Yes, in a minute,” he calls back, and you see Jimin hit his shoulder softly, most likely teasing him.

“Now, please.”

Defeated, he says something to the rest, probably to continue dividing themselves into teams, before he jogs up to you.

He’s smiling when he reaches you, “Hey.”

“Hey,” you reply, taking in the sight of your incredibly hunky boyfriend. He’s wearing black swimming trunks, matching his dark tattoos and even darker hair. It’s been maybe four months since he cut it last, meaning that it’s at his preferred length, almost obscuring his vision. You, yourself, haven’t been able to make up your mind. Every time he switches the style of his hair up, you think you fall in love all over again. 

Not only that, but two months ago, he surprised you with a lip piercing. The silver ring glimmers in the sun where it sits snug around his bottom lip, and it moves when he talks. 

Sometimes, or honestly, more than he probably should, he plays with it. You try to remind him not to bite at it to spare his teeth and the not fully healed piercing, but he forgets. And, he looks insanely hot, concentrating on something and biting his lip.

“You have to take care of yourself, okay? For me at least?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just that I’m so excited.”

You grin, incredibly endeared, and open the bottle. 

“Oh, I can do it, you don’t have to. I’m a grown man, after all.”

You ignore his smirk, squirting some into your hand before offering him the bottle. “I can help do your back?”

He only nods at that, turning his back to you. But as soon as you lay your eyes on his wide back, you realize you might’ve overestimated yourself. How could you just slather some sunscreen on him when he’s so… tan, and when you put your sunscreen-free hand on him, he’s so… warm…

You’re only human, and you do end up breaking and wrapping your arms around his waist instead. Only wearing a bikini, he’s so warm and firm against your skin, and Jeongguk, who’s started applying the white cream to his arms, only chuckles at your dreamy sigh.

“I love you,” you mumble earnestly with your cheek pressed against his back.

“I… know?”

His slight hesitancy makes you snort, and he tries to look at you from over his shoulder. You tighten your arms around his waist.

“What am I supposed to say when I’m not allowed to say it back?”

“I don’t know, and you are allowed to say it back, but you have to agree that it relieves a lot of pressure to not be expected to, right? I know that you love me, and you know that I love you, and it shouldn’t be expected as a response. You say it because you want to, when you want to.”

“No, you’re definitely right. It’s just that you say it so much that I never get the chance to? I wanna have a nice moment and tell you that I love you, but you always beat me to it. In fact, not only do you grab the nice moments, but you hoard all the moments.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem. You gotta improve your game,” you shrug. “Get good, you know?”

“I’ll remember that,” he threatens vaguely while chuckling. “Also, weren’t you supposed to sunscreen my back? I’ll need to get back before Jin starts to scream.”

“Yes, but what if you just stay here with me? We can lie on my towel and… hug.”

“Scandalous,” Jeongguk laughs, hoisting your arms higher on his abdomen to spread sunscreen in their previous place.

“Hey! Need him back!” someone calls, and you huff, reluctantly letting go and straightening up.

“Sorry, Jin, a minute!” you inform, finally running your sunscreen-filled hand over Jeongguk’s back. You have to make a conscious effort to not start massaging the spots you know are usually sore, because you feel like his friends won’t ever invite you again if you’re only going to hold your boyfriend hostage.

To make it even harder for you, Jeongguk groans and shifts to give you better access. You don’t even think he does it consciously, just by habit. After all, massaging him after the gym really is a cherished routine.

Soon enough, you pat him on the back, a signal that you’re done, and he turns to give you a small kiss as thanks, also mumbling an ‘I love you’ before he leaves. 

You smile to yourself as you watch him jog to the others, unknowing of the thick layer of sunscreen on his right shoulder and how, hopefully, it’s gonna leave him with tan lines in the shape of a heart.

Karma definitely catches up to you soon enough, though. 

You’re lying on your towel, eyes closed and the book having been abandoned on your bag next to you, when the sun clouds over. You crease your forehead. The forecast didn’t say anything about clouds, and there certainly weren’t any in the sky like… thirty seconds ago.

So you open your eyes.

“Hi,” a smirking Jeongguk greets, standing over you and blocking the sun. “We’re taking a break,” he informs, and behind him, you see Taehyung talking on the phone to someone.

“Oh?” you rise to your elbows, looking up at him. He’s grinning and visibly affected by exercise, his chest still moving rapidly.

“Yeah. So, I thought I’d take you up on that offer of yours.”

“My offer? You mean hugging?” you chuckle, sitting up.

He sets his knees on your towel, reaching for your water bottle, “Yes.”

You watch fondly as he gulps down the water, one drop escaping his mouth to trickle down his neck and onto his chest.

“You know, this is really great. Seeing you have so much fun.”

He moves the bottle from his lips, wiping his mouth with his forearm. “Yeah, this is like the best part of the year. And with you here too? Why are you looking at me like that for?”

“I just think you’re very sweet and handsome. Like, incredibly so.”

“Are you saying you have a crush on me?” he jokes, placing the bottle back beside your bag.

“Yes. The biggest, fattest crush that’s ever crushed. But it seems I’m not the only one.”

“Huh?”

“Three o’clock. The row of women conveniently turned right about this way?”

Discreetly, at least enough, he turns his head. “Oh.”

You snicker at his reaction, wondering if he just hadn’t even noticed the audience as him and his hot friends showed off their athleticism. 

“Hmm. Are you… jealous?” he asks, peering down at you with nothing but trouble in his eyes. 

“No.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know that you're mine. And why would I deny them the pleasure of watching you? If anything, I wanna show my incredibly talented and hot and sweet boyfriend off.”

“Possessive? I like it.”

“That’s what you gathered?” you ask, tilting your head and watching as he gets on all fours and slowly closes the distance. “What are you up to?”

“Just making sure they know,” he says, his face mere inches from yours. “I mean if anyone was wondering.”

He’s smiling happily right up until the moment he touches his lips to yours. It’s still a bit of an odd feeling, the warm metal against your mouth, but you definitely don’t mind. He knows that too, that you’re only ever supportive of how he chooses to express himself. 

“There are kids here,” you mumble smilingly against his mouth, and he pulls away.

“I know,” he pouts, “but we can still hug.”

“Gguk!” you hear Jimin call, and you chuckle at how Jeongguk shuts his eyes in disappointment.

“Go,” you assure quietly, “have fun. You and I have all the time in the world.”

It’s four p.m. when Jin steps on something hard in the sand and hurts his foot enough not to want to continue and instead limps dramatically to the little kiosk and its ice cream line. With the majority of your focus on your phone, you note how Taehyung and Jimin plop down on their towels next to Ryujin.

“Play with me.”

Once again, Jeongguk stands before you, happiness and mischief oozing from him.

“Soccer?” you question with your eyebrows raised in surprise. 

Jeongguk nods enthusiastically.

“Gguk, I’ll die.”

Although you wholeheartedly enjoy seeing him do physical activities from a few feet away, men in general, and not least your boyfriend, tend to be… intense. You know that he would never intentionally hurt you, but war flashbacks still fill your mind of your junior high class playing soccer and the guys being so set on winning that they neither realized nor cared that they knocked (smaller) people over.

“Oh, come on,” he pleads, “It’s just you and me, and you know I’d never let you get hurt.”

With no further arguing from your side, you’re gently pulled up off the towel and onto the small soccer field.

“Try to score,” Jeongguk instructs, and it’s only then, when he places the ball in front of your feet that you realize what he’s planning. Smirking, he walks backward until he reaches the old and worn goalposts, void of anything resembling a net.

“I’ll break my toes off?”

He chuckles at your bad excuse and gets into position, “The ball is soft. Just make sure to score.”

It’s the way evil flickers in his eyes and pulls on his lips that has you suspecting foul play. That look is seldom good.

“You can’t chase me if I don’t,” you warn because hunting you down while you squeal in horror has proved to be one of his favorite things to do. 

Jeongguk shrugs, which only confirms it for you, and you point at him. “You’re gonna chase me, aren’t you?”

“Then make sure to score,” he teases.

“So you admit it?”

He smiles, “No. Now, just do it.”

Sighing, you eye the ball and your boyfriend, who’s gotten into the typical goalie stance with his knees bent, feet apart, and his hands out. In response, your adrenaline spikes. 

It’s not that you’re scared of Jeongguk because he’s truly the sweetest man, especially to you, and you know he’d probably never forgive himself if he ever hurt you, but being chased is just… terrifying. It’s fun, you won’t lie, but it’s terrifying.

The ball lies approximately thirty feet from the goal, and you know that, especially in sand, you’ll never be able to outrun someone as fast and athletic as Jeongguk, even with a thirty feet head start.

Additionally, even though there’s a zero percent chance of you scoring against him, you’re a hundred percent he’ll chase you even if you do.

Still, and much to Jeongguk’s amusement, you start to back up slowly, your eyes on the ball. Step after step, you back up, until you see both his and hear his friends’ confusion. Surely, you don’t need that much space to reach an appropriate speed?

But you know you were doomed to fail from the start, so why even try? Instead of running up to the ball, you turn, and you dash in the opposite direction, running for your life and satisfied with your maximized head start.

In the distance, you hear Jeongguk shout a confused “What the…” but also the sound of his feet hitting the sand as he sprints to catch you.

Luckily, you spot Jin, still at the kiosk but now with half an ice cream cone in his hand, and you pray that you’ll be able to reach him before Jeongguk catches up. Jin probably doesn’t care too much about protecting you, but if there’s anything he won’t decline, it’s a good brawl with Jeongguk.

“Jin! Help!” you squeal as you reach him, barely having time to round his body and put him between you and Jeongguk before your boyfriend reaches you. “I’ll buy you two new ice creams!”

Jin licks his ice cream casually but doesn’t mind you holding onto him as a human shield. “Why would I get involved in your little lovers’ quabbel?”

“He said you were getting too old to play soccer,” you lie from behind his back. 

“What the fuck?” Jin exclaims, and from what you can see of Jeongguk as you peer around Jin, his eyes widen comically.

“I did not.”

“You little fucker, you think you’re gonna be young forever or what?” Jin scolds as he pushes the remainder of his ice cream into his mouth, which is honestly quite impressive.

As the guys start to push at each other–Jeongguk to get to you and Jin to protect you only to spite Jeongguk–you back up, happy with your plan. 

Unfortunately, Jin doesn’t spend a ridiculous amount of hours at the gym like Jeongguk, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s sidestepped. But not after they tumble around on the ground for a moment, sand flying everywhere.

As soon as he sees that he’s been overcome, Jin gives up and calls ‘good luck’ at you. Similarly, the moment his friend is no longer an obstacle, Jeongguk sets his eyes on you.

“Oh, you little… I’m coming for you,” he threatens, and you turn to dash away again, but of course, with only a few rapid steps, he’s caught up, and you’re lifted off the ground.

He laughs at your screams, immediately carrying you toward a specific destination. “How about you and I go for a little swim, huh?”

“No,” you whine, but you’ve stopped struggling, “The water’s cold.”

“You haven’t even felt the water,” he chuckles, “It’s surprisingly warm.”

“You’re a menace,” you groan as he continues into the water.

“And you’re a cheating liar.”

“Touché.”

Since he’s holding you bridal style, the water reaches your butt first, and you have to agree that it’s definitely not as cold as you thought. Additionally, Jeongguk is very slow and gentle as he walks farther out.

He continues until only his head is above the surface, meaning you wouldn’t reach the bottom if you tried. So far out, you shift in his arms, holding onto his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“You’re very clingy,” he teases.

“You don’t get to complain since you were the one who dragged me out here. I just don’t like open water where just about anything could take me.”

“This isn’t open water, though. It’s a few feet into the water on a public beach,” he explains gently. “There’s nothing here that could ‘take you.’ Except me, but it’s a bit risky in public, don’t you think?”

“Jeongguk!’ you gasp before your amused smile turns fond, “You know you’re a little bit of an idiot?”

“But I got you.”

You sigh in defeat, “I know.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, and the only sound is the waves rippling softly around you.

“Do you want me to take you back?” he asks quietly.

Meeting his eyes, you spot the tiniest bit of a certain emotion flash. It really is rarer and rarer these days, but you’d recognize it anywhere.

“No,” you assure softly, running your hand over his shoulder. He rubs one of his along your back. “As long as you hold me like this.”

“Okay.”

You smile, pulling yourself even closer to his body, to the point where you’re cheek to cheek.

“I’m… really happy,” you say so quietly no one else would hear even if you weren’t alone, far from the closest beach goer. “Life was really boring without you.”

You still call them date nights even though you’re living together and have been a couple for almost four years. They happen with varying frequency, sometimes you settle for movie nights every other day for two weeks straight, and other times, you splurge and go out to dinner multiple times a week. 

Tonight, Jeongguk surprised you with a fancier dinner at home, a thing he’s done now and again. You’re always smiling from ear to ear whenever you get to spend time with him, and it’s certainly no different when he’s cooked and set the table with candles.

“So, he wants you to do an extra shoot then?” you ask, taking another bite from your fork.

“Yeah. Said he’d be in touch soon to book,” Jeongguk answers from the sink where he’s opening another bottle of wine. He’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt, tucked into black slacks, the sleeves rolled up and a few buttons undone. He never stops to take your breath away.

“That’s great, Gguk.”

“Mhm. You want some?” he comes to stand beside you, holding the bottle over your nearly empty glass.

“Sure.”

You watch the red liquid be poured into the glass, and then as Jeongguk places the bottle on the table.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he says.

You swallow the food in your mouth, about to reach for the glass, “Sure, go ahead.”

“Will you marry me?”

You stop breathing. When you turn your head, Jeongguk is sinking to one knee and opening a small, black box you didn’t know he was holding.

At first, you’re speechless. Marriage is one thing you haven’t talked very much about, especially after becoming what you’d call ‘stable.’ You just always assumed he didn’t want to, that the thought only brought him anxiety, and as long as you got him, it didn’t matter to you.

“Gguk, you know I love you–”

“–But?” he continues nervously, “...Don’t tell me you were gonna break up with me? Cause that would be awkward.”

It’s the sad and heartbreaking chuckle he lets out that snaps you out of it. “No, no, of course not! I love you, and I want nothing more than this and you, but we don’t need the rings and the documents for that, you know? You don’t have to do that for me, okay?”

“But I want to. I really do,” he assures, his confidence returning slowly but surely.

“Are you sure?”

“Incredibly. So… will you?”

Your eyes fall from his to the velvet box in his hand. “Oh, love. Of course.”

With his smile growing, he takes the ring out and with his other hand, grasps yours to slide it onto your ring finger.

Maybe surprisingly, or maybe not, the only tear in the room trickles down your cheek.

“So, we’re getting married?” he asks, sounding happy yet in disbelief.

“Yeah. I mean, you proposed, didn’t you?”

“And you said ‘yes?’”

“Then… yeah?”

Overcome with joy and love, you surprise him by throwing yourself at him, and he laughs as he falls to his butt, his hand shooting out to hold your back protectively. You end up on his lap with your forehead against his when you remember that you didn’t even stop to look at the ring.

“This is lovely,” you gasp, admiring the thin, silver band adorned with a small, pale blue teardrop in the middle.

“You like it?”

“Of course, I–I couldn’t have picked out anything better, myself. It’s like… like a little…”

“Forget-me-not?” he finishes for you.

“Yes. I love it. But, Gguk… it must’ve cost a fortune, please tell me it didn’t?”

He grins, “It didn’t.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Are you lying?”

“No. It didn’t cost much, cause… well, I made it.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I mean, I had to pay for the material, of course, and I paid my uncle to help me, not because he required it, but because I wanted to.”

The blue stone glimmers under your gaze. Sure, you knew Jeongguk was handy, even having been taught some carpentry by his uncle when he was younger, but this?

“Jeongguk, you made this?”

“Yes?”

“For me?”

He strokes your back fondly, “Yeah.”

“Wow,” you gush dreamily, admiring it from every angle. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You appear very happy for someone who said marriage wasn’t important,” he teases, and you look down at him with all the love you hold for him.

“I wouldn’t have minded if we didn’t, but I love it now that it’s happening. And I love you, that you did all this,” you hold your hand up, “and that you want to be with me like I want to be with you.”

It’s a regular day in November when Jeongguk unlocks the door to the apartment and kicks off his shoes before he trudges into the kitchen with the package under his arm.

He remembers how you, this morning, said you’d meet up with Yuna after a meeting at work, so the dark apartment is no surprise. The package is, however, since he can’t recall ordering anything that would be arriving today.

Jeongguk turns the lights on and places the brown package on the kitchen table to look for a knife. With one in his hand, he slices the packaging tape off and opens it. 

Turning it over, it appears to be… a book?

If he hadn’t already double checked that it was addressed to him and not you, he definitely would’ve. There’s a simple sketch of a swallow on the cover, but as he reads the title, it doesn’t appear to be about birds, at least not non-fictional.

‘The little bird and its love poems’

The author isn’t anyone he recognizes, not that he’s very up to date on them anyway. Curious, he opens it to the first page.

‘To my J, who can make even a writer lose their words.’

His head spins as he pulls out a chair and sits down at the kitchen table. 

It’s six p.m. when you reach what was once only Jeongguk’s apartment complex and take the elevator up to the sixth floor. Since selling your home a while ago, you really haven’t looked back. You barely spent time there anyway.

The second you unlock and open the door, you hear rustling, and another two seconds later, he stands there, red-eyed and sniffling. 

“D–did you? You..?”

Lowering your gaze, you see him holding your book to his chest. “Didn’t think it would arrive today,” you smile as you take off your shoes and jacket, putting them away slowly without looking away from him for too long. “But yeah.”

He just stands there, his pierced bottom lip trembling, and you approach him with open arms. But before you can embrace him fully, he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts.

Without a word, Jeongguk carries you into the bedroom and drops you onto the unmade bed to pull the covers over the both of you as he lies down.

You’re still smiling, even wider when he pulls you closer. 

“I love you,” you whisper into the darkness where it’ll get hard to breathe soon.

“Thanks, I got that,” Jeongguk mumbles sarcastically, sounding all choked up, and it makes you chuckle. 

“How much did you read?”

“All of it.”

“Which was your favorite?” you ask, stroking his hair.

“The last one, I think. ‘The adventure.’ Fucking ruined me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah,” he sniffles, his voice quiet. “…Why didn’t you use your real name?”

You open the duvet to let in some fresh air. “I guess I just wanted to write it. For me, to get it out of my system, and for you, as a gift. I don’t need anyone else, like our friends or all of your followers, to know my thoughts and feelings so deeply. Just you, and this way, it’s just between you and me, but it’s also out there.”

Jeongguk sniffles again, “I like that. Thank you. It must’ve taken you so long, though?”

“Yeah, I guess. I started not very long after we got back together the last time. I’ve always wanted to write something, but I didn’t know what, and I just had all these feelings clogging my brain, and I realized that if I didn’t start with this, those uncontained feelings would color everything I tried to write.”

He rests his head on your chest, “You know, I never thought anyone would write poems for me?”

“I know. But I did.”

“I’m warning you, I’ll be working on a revenge plan.”

Turns out that even if sales weren’t extremely important to you, your collection of poems accidentally gathers the attention of a well-known book circle and ends up doing quite well.

It’s a little less than two years later when you meet your own eyes through the mirror. It’s been hard, but you’ve fortunately managed to keep any tears at bay so far, and you admire your make up along with your dress. 

Satisfied, you run your hands along your waist over what you’ve sewed yourself. This time, the dress is everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” Yeji speaks from the rattan chair in the corner of the room.

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, “I know you’ve been through this too, but I just can’t wait for it to start, you know? The rest of our lives together.”

“I know.”

Sitting on the make-up table, Yuna takes a sip of her champagne, “I think he’s probably freaking out a lot more than you are,” she chuckles.

You smile, endeared, as you’re picturing him getting ready, probably pacing the room nervously. “He’s sweet.”

It took almost a year to plan your early November wedding. It’s smaller than Yuna’s, mostly family on your side and more friends on Jeongguk’s. You both quickly agreed to do your vows in private, and although he didn’t say it, you think it’s partly because Jeongguk wouldn’t make it through hearing yours in front of everyone.

Despite there definitely not being a reason to be nervous, you find yourself picking at your bouquet as you wait behind the doors, ready to walk down the aisle. Your father dabs his eyes with a napkin discreetly before he offers you his arm.

Then, the music starts, and the doors open.

When you first spot him, he’s standing with his back toward you, but only half a second later, he’s turning around. He’s wearing a traditional black suit with a bow tie, his slightly wavy hair of medium length–at least considering what he’s used to–brushed away from his face, and he looks like he just stepped out of a fairy tale. Your fairy tale.

The feeling must be mutual because he stares at you, those wide, Bambi eyes immediately glossing over. In response, you smile comfortingly at him.

Of course, it doesn’t work, and as you near, his tears finally spill over. There’s a collective awe sounding through the room, fond whispers echoing, and when you reach him–and your dad gives you away–you’re not sure if Jeongguk can see anything with how teary his eyes are. 

Behind him, you hear his groomsmen chuckle, but you know it’s out of love and adoration.

“Hi,” you greet quietly, taking Jeongguk’s arm.

“H–hi,” he stutters, his breaths uneven.

Although the officiant is waiting for your attention, you instead wrap your arms carefully around Jeongguk’s neck.

“Hey, shh, It’s okay,” you soothe, “Imagine it’s just you and me.”

“Is that supposed to help?” he hiccups, and you think it’s Jimin who laughs. It’s been a long time, probably more than a year since you’ve seen Jeongguk shed a tear at all, but you guess they were right back then, his friends. The only person he cries over is you.

“Yes. Close your eyes,” you instruct, lowering your hand to rub it across his back slowly, “and take a deep breath.”

Jeongguk ends up needing a few of those deep breaths before his breathing is under control and you can turn your attention back to the officiant, who smiles fondly at the two of you. 

Jeongguk manages to keep himself collected for the rest of the ceremony, and even if one tear escapes during the first dance, you’re quick to dry it. You can’t blame him, though, not when there’s only you and him on the dance floor and your cousin Jihyo starts to sing.

Wise men say

Only fools rush in…

“This was a good decision. Marriage, I mean,” he nods, and you lift your head from his chest to look at him, “Even though this song makes me wanna bawl all over again. I never would’ve guessed marriage was my thing–fuck, I didn’t think anyone would ever actually love me, much less want to marry me–but here we are,” he chuckles, ignoring the sad look you give him. “But there’s a… stability in it that I like. So thank you, for giving me a chance. Or like, five hundred. ”

“Yeah. It’s not as easy for you to run away now,” you joke gently. 

However, despite Jeongguk’s progress, he looks away briefly. “I’m sorry. For all the things I put you through. I really am, and I’ll be fo–”

“–For the rest of your life. I know. But look at me?”

“You’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen, yeah.”

You laugh quietly, “No, that wasn’t what I meant. I meant that in a ‘look at me, I’ve got everything I could’ve ever asked for’ way. And you know my deepest, darkest desire?”

“Yeah?”

“I think this is pretty darn close.”

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you

It’s later during the reception that Jeongguk can’t find you. How hard could it be, finding the most stunning woman ever, also happening to be the one in the white dress, he thinks, but evidently, you’re gone. He looks through the venue, but doesn’t find you dancing with anyone on the dance floor nor talking with someone in a corner.

It’s only when he walks past a window that he spots that white dress. He stops.

The venue you chose lies on top of a hill, overlooking a river. Down where the water meets land, there’s the smallest of piers. And that’s where you stand.

Jeongguk continues to the exit, opening the doors to stand outside. It’s dark, outside candles lining and illuminating the gravel path down to the pier.

Surely, a lot of people would consider it weird to invite your ex-fiancé to your wedding, but he truly didn’t mind sending Namjoon an invite. Neither does he mind that it’s your ex you’ve snuck off to talk to on your wedding day. 

He doesn’t plan on approaching you, just to wait for you. Even from a distance, it’s mind blowing how you take his breath away. 

He almost feels the need to pinch himself because how did everything he ever wanted come true? You’re speaking with the man you were going to marry, but the gorgeous white dress you’re wearing isn’t for Namjoon, it’s for him. He’s the one with the matching wedding band on his finger. Him. You’ve actually married him. 

For a second, he’s scared that he dreamt it all, that it’s someone else’s wedding he’s at, and he nearly pats his sides in search of the camera bag hanging from his shoulder.

“Oh? Hi, have you seen–”

He turns, relieved to be back in reality. The person speaking to him–who also just noticed the two of you down at the pier–is Namjoon’s girlfriend.

Returning his attention to you, he’s just in time to watch you nearly throw yourself into Namjoon’s awaiting arms.

“Does that… worry you?” she asks quietly, but Jeongguk only shakes his head.

“No. Are you? Worried?”

“Strangely enough… no.”

He doesn’t talk to the woman much more after that, and soon enough, you and Namjoon come walking back. You look happy as you tell him something, holding onto his hand so as to not trip in your heels, and he’s smiling down at you too.

But the moment you look up and notice Jeongguk, your expression changes. He can tell that you were happy for Namjoon, excited that he’s found someone he really likes, and that things have worked out for him. You’re smiling happily for him because you still care for him.

But when you meet Jeongguk’s eyes, it’s different. There’s an indescribable excitement brimming in your beautiful eyes, a longing in your smile that he shares and that’s come true. 

Three weeks after the wedding, you step out of Jeongguk’s car–well it’s yours too since you decided that having two was redundant and yours was sold. He’s quick to round it, immediately reaching for your hand and pulling you into his side so quickly you almost bounce off him. Of course, he catches you, reveling in your laughter. 

Under the sign declaring the little shop a tattoo one, he opens the heavy door and gestures for you to enter first. It’s much warmer inside than the late November air outside, and as you look around, you unzip your jacket.

Despite being together for quite some time now, you’ve never actually been to the tattoo shop, which is partly because it’s been years since he got a new one done. However, he’s deemed that a few need to be touched up, and that’s why you’re here.

Jeongguk’s tattoo artist is a very kind and polite man named Han. He pulls up another comfy-looking chair in black for you to sit beside Jeongguk. 

“So what have you been up to since I last saw you?” he asks as he prepares the ink on the little tray placed on a rolling table.

“Well, I got married,” Jeongguk grins and looks at you. “Three weeks ago.”

“Oh, really?” Han looks away from the tools to let his gaze travel between the two of you. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.”

You bite your lip, for some reason feeling your cheeks heat up just the slightest.

“You’re very talented, Han,” you change the topic, “You’ve done almost all of his tattoos, and most are just so cool and pretty.”

“‘Most?’” he chuckles, making you backtrack.

“No, no, I meant that they’re all very well done. There’s just one I don’t particularly like, but that’s due to meaning and not execution,” you explain.

“Oh, which one is that?” he inspects Jeongguk’s naked arm where he’s seated on the chair in between you and Han, in only a t-shirt on his top half.

“You don’t say anything, only pointing to the anatomically correct rotting heart. 

“Oh. Yeah,” Han chuckles, making you wonder if he perhaps knows of its backstory.

Jeongguk grins at you and lifts his hand to pat you lovingly on your head. You adore him and his style, and you’ll always be supportive of it, he knows that. Except for the heart. That’s when you’re a self-proclaimed party pooper because although you’re still kinda sweet about it, you do dislike the meaning. He knows that too, and he thinks it’s a little bit funny (and cute) that you care so much about his metaphorical heart and how he sees himself.

And truth be told, he wouldn’t get that tattoo today, but he still doesn’t mind it. It tells his story, and it looks cool.

You don’t fight his patting, “I just think he’s a sweet guy, and I wouldn’t allow him to get something like that today.”

“What would you ‘allow’ me to get, then?” 

You shrug, “I mean, there are a lot of things I wouldn’t mind.”

“Do something, then,” he says happily.

“No, I don’t know if I want any more, at least not now.”

“I meant on me. Han, will you let her do something?”

“What, Gguk?!” you question, not only his words but also his sanity, “No, I’d ruin your skin. Besides, I’m sure it’s like a federal crime.”

“She can decide something, and I can tattoo it?” Han suggests, holding onto Jeongguk’s arm and lowering the needle to his skin.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk peers up at you happily, used to the pain of tattoos.

You’re not smiling as joyously, “Are you sure? I don’t think there’s any use in telling you they’re permanent?”

“You’re my wife, and if you want to choose something for me, I want you to.”

Despite it perhaps being too spontaneous of an idea and also very possibly a bad one, you can’t argue too much. There is something you really would like on him. A certain motive that you’d really love.

“Okay. It’s a tiny one, I’ll do it in grayscale like the rest so it doesn’t stick out too much.”

“You can do color if you want,” Jeongguk reaches for your hand with his left one. “Or just whatever you want. Write your name in your favorite color.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, but he doesn’t waver.

“You’ll regret saying that when I make Han tattoo a pink dick on you.”

Both of them laugh, but Han still shows you where to find an empty sketchbook to draw in and without showing Jeongguk, you get to work.

When he’s done with the touch-up, Han follows you to the farthest corner of the shop where you tell him about the tiny, little outline of a heart you’ve drawn and how you want it in thin red, next to the rotten one.

By his own idea, Jeongguk looks at you the entire time it takes Han to tattoo him, which isn’t more than a few minutes, and he doesn’t peek until everything’s done and you’re following him to the shop’s mirror.

He’s twisting his arm around to see it clearly since it’s halfway hidden beside the big, decaying heart. He’s not smiling anymore, but he’s got that wide and glossy Bambi-eye look that’s so sweet.

Reaching him, you lean your head against his other arm. “I know you think, or at least thought that there was something wrong with your heart. But it works just fine. Almost perfectly, even. And it’s so dear to me. You are, every little part of you.

“But if you ever doubt it, then you’ve got my heart too. It’s not perfect either, but it beats for you.”

It’s a quiet Jeongguk that leaves the tattoo shop with your hand warmly held in his, but he’s not sad. He’s happy and still a little emotional, you can tell. 

Under his jacket, the little red heart drawn by you is wrapped in plastic, and a bit shyly, he admits that he thinks it might be his favorite tattoo yet. 

Of course, despite telling him it can symbolize either of your hearts, he says that he likes the thought of it being yours more. You, however, definitely think his is a better fit.

Because Jeon Jeongguk is a lot of things, but more than anything, he’s a lover.

The adventure

When I close my eyes for the last time,

and all is said and things are through,

I hope you know that

my favorite part of this adventure 

was you.

author's note: so that was it lol, please tell me if you liked it because i really spent time and effort on this big boy of a fic 🥺 and again, here's the playlist!

---

Chasing Cars | ch 15.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, mentions of jk's unaliving attempt, explicit content: hickeys, fingering, they are so in love and can't stop saying it, unprotected sex, creampie

☆word count: 2.6k

☆a/n: i love them, and my bad if there are any typos this is heavily unedited haha let me know if you see any!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook feels anxious. Ever since Taehyung asked him to meet up to talk, he’s been feeling incredibly anxious, like his heart might explode in his chest. Even worse - he’s afraid he’ll run into you when he gets to the apartment, and after what you said on Thursday, he thinks he might break with no way to heal if he sees you.

He’s scheduled an appointment with his therapist later today. All he can do is hope that it’ll help. And that his conversation with Taehyung will help, too.

Taehyung is in the living room when Jungkook gets home, playing on the Switch. He pauses his game the second Jungkook walks in, and they both stare at each other for a time, an uneasy silence filling the apartment.

Taehyung breaks it first. “Hey.”

Jungkook takes off his shoes but keeps his coat on as he heads towards the living room. “Hey.”

“How have you been?” Taehyung asks.

It’s awkward, and Jungkook hates it. He’s been hating way too much stuff in his life lately.

“Fine,” Jungkook replies. 

He can’t bring himself to return the question, and he sits at the other extremity of the couch, as far away from Taehyung as he possibly can.

“Listen…” Taehyung says when he realizes Jungkook won’t say anything else. “I’m sorry I punched you.” He winces as his eyes go over the bruise and wound Jungkook knows adorn his cheek. “Shit, I actually got you good.”

“You did,” Jungkook coldly replies.

Taehyung eyes his knuckles, which have also turned red and purple from the blow. “I really am sorry for that. I don’t know why I punched you, and I’m a little disgusted with myself that I did.”

“You were mad. It makes sense.”

Taehyung shakes his head no. “It doesn’t make sense. But… man, why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Because you told me you’d kill me if I did touch her?” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Yet you still went behind my back and fucked her,” Taehyung states, a hint of anger flashing behind the words.

“I didn’t fuck your sister,” Jungkook spits. “It’s never been like that with her.”

Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds and then sighs deeply. “Then how is it?”

His tone is cool, composed, and a lot nicer than Jungkook expected it to be. It calms down the anger that was starting to simmer in his blood better than a cold shower would have.

“Wha - what?” Jungkook lets out.

Taehyung offers him a smile that seems forced, yet Jungkook sees it for what it is - he’s trying to make an effort.

“How is it with Y/n?”

Jungkook gulps, gaze widening. “Huh… well…” he trails off, eyes falling to his hands, where he’s been mindlessly pulling at the calluses he gets from working out. “It’s… great. I know she’s your sister but fuck… she’s amazing.”

“She is,” Taehyung agrees.

“But I fucked everything up in Paris when I kissed Gabrielle.”

The silence that follows is heavy, interrupted by Taehyung’s sigh what feels like an eternity later.

“Were you guys together then?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook shrugs. “We weren’t together together. But yes we were.” He pauses, and his throat is so dry it feels like sandpaper when he tries to swallow. “We started on Valentine’s Day.”

Taehyung’s nose is scrunched up, much like you sometimes do, when Jungkook looks at him. “That’s… a long time ago.”

“We ended in Paris, though,” Jungkook adds. “Except last Thursday.”

“I thought you and Lisa…” Taehyung trails off.

“It happened once last month,” Jungkook immediately explains, probably far more defensive than necessary. “And Y/n actually caught us together so… I ended things with Lisa right away.”

“I remember Lisa being pissed about it,” Taehyung admits. “But then she said that it was because of another girl, and looking back I was stupid to think it was Gaby.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “I haven’t spoken to Gaby in person since Paris. We only texted a couple of times.”

Including that one time she’d given him shit for not telling you about his promise to her.

“Right…” Taehyung trails off. He sighs, sitting back on the couch, throwing Jungkook a look. “What do you want with my sister?”

Jungkook gulps around a sudden lump in his throat. What does he want with you? He already knows, but can he tell Taehyung? Can he tell your brother that he’s so irreversibly in love with you he thinks he’s been dying since you said it was a lapse of judgment on Thursday?

That he almost died in July after he lost you?

“You want the truth?” Jungkook asks, his heart rate spiking. “I’m in love with her. I just want her to be happy, and of course I wish she’d want to be happy with me, but I don’t think that’ll happen after last Thursday.”

“You’re in love with her?” Taehyung repeats.

Jungkook gulps. “Yes.”

Taehyung nods and, to Jungkook’s surprise, taps Jungkook’s shoulder. “Noted. Come home, Jungkook. You should talk to her.”

Jungkook is stunned silent, and he just stares at Taehyung, just stares at his best friend unblinkingly, not understanding where the conversation went.

“What?”

“Come home,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m not mad at you. I was mostly mad that you both hid it from me for months, but clearly I was wrong.” He pauses, chuckles lightly. “At least that’s what Ari said. She quite literally beat some sense into me.”

So… this is it? The biggest obstacle to you and him… wasn’t even an obstacle?

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, gaze widening as if he’s reminiscing about what happened with Ariane. “She said that I was a dick for not letting you guys figure your shit out. I think Gaby told her about the two of you.”

That would make sense, considering that the two girls are best friends. 

“Oh,” is all Jungkook manages to say.

Taehyung surveys him for a few seconds, as Jungkook’s world crumbles down around him. It’s like the floor disappeared, and he’s plummeting towards the ground with no parachute to save him.

Taehyung is not opposed to your relationship.

If you want it, Jungkook can be with you.

“So come home,” Taehyung repeats. “Talk to Y/n. Fix shit with her.” Taehyung smiles, and this time it’s fully genuine. “I just want you both to be happy.”

Jungkook nods, and he has to take a deep breath to refrain from crying then and there. “Okay.” He nods again. “Okay, I will talk to her.”

There’s a moment of silence as Taehyung just carefully observes Jungkook. Jungkook wonders, can Taehyung hear the wild beats of his heart at the perspective of talking to you?

“Can I…” Taehyung starts, and then his eyes drop to his hands in his lap. “Can I ask you something?”

Jungkook’s heart seems to come to a full halt in his chest. “Yeah?”

“What happened last summer…” Taehyung trails off. “Is it related to Y/n?”

A bottle of wine crashing on the pavement comes to Jungkook’s mind. But he never told Taehyung - how would he know?

“What do you mean?” Jungkook replies, pulling on his piercings.

“In July.” Taehyung sighs, meeting Jungkook’s gaze for a few seconds. “Lisa told Sera, and she told me and Jimin.”

Jungkook hates it. He hates it so much, hating the vulnerability that it imposes him.

“Ah.” He gulps, and he thinks about you for a moment.

Thinks about the fact that you were the only thing on his mind when he was so close to ending it.

“It was partly caused by losing her, yes,” Jungkook finally answers, and he’s suddenly blinking back tears.

“Fuck, JK…” Taehyung trails off. “You really should have told me about her…”

“I didn’t think you’d be… open-minded,” Jungkook says, shrugging his shoulders. “And she’d already ended things with me then.”

Taehyung nods once, and then sighs again. “Please don’t keep everything to yourself now, okay? I really don’t want you to think you’re alone. And I really don’t want you to ever feel like… that is a solution. So please talk to me, talk to Jimin whenever you need help, okay?”

Jungkook can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so all he does is nod. Taehyung understands - they’re best friends after all.

“I love you, bro,” Taehyung adds. “Please talk to Y/n.”

“I will,” Jungkook answers, his voice choked up with emotion.

All he can hope for is for you to be open to the conversation, whenever it comes. 

*****

For the first time in months, Jungkook feels at peace.

You’re here with him, and for the first time, he knows he won’t have to let go. Maybe that’s why he’s kissing you slowly, softly - you have all of eternity stretched ahead of you. Yet it seems you want more. Your kisses grow deeper, and soon his blood is pulsing at his ears, shooting down to his dick, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth.

It’s like he’s discovering you for the first time. He marvels at your sight, at your taste, at the way you moan softly against his lips. He swallows your sounds, inhales your inebriating scent, and he climbs on top of you, gently parting your legs with his knee so that he can be as close to you as possible.

He has half a thought that Taehyung is somewhere in the apartment, but the way you wrap your legs around his waist makes him forget everything until there’s just you and him.

He leaves your mouth to find your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you. A second later he’s sucking a hickey on your skin, and you moan softly, hand pulling at his hair.

“Kook,” you breathe out.

He pauses, just content with being close to you. “I love you, peach.”

Your arms wrap tightly around him, and though you have to be aware of his erection pressing against you, you both just stay there for a moment. 

“Love you too, Kook. So, so much.”

It’s the way you say the words. Jungkook immediately feels the need to be inside you, to be surrounded by you, and he kneels between your legs so that he can take off his shirt. You run a hand on his body, awe in your eyes like you, too, can’t believe you made it in the end. He takes a moment to look at you, to take in the way your eyes sparkle with emotion - with love, lust and yearning.

He loves you. And the best part about it is, you love him too.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt in one swift motion that reveals so much skin - you weren’t wearing a bra - and Jungkook thinks he’ll go insane. It’s like he forgot what you looked like despite seeing you just a few days ago - it feels like a whole lifetime ago.

You’ve gained muscles over the months apart. You’re leaner, and there’s a strength to your curves that makes Jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants. The tattoo on your ribs is all too attractive too, and Jungkook takes a moment to trace it as you lie back down under his watchful gaze.

The art is beautiful. Delicate, with fine lines that have sunk perfectly in your skin. Jungkook wonders who your artist is, if they’d be able to tattoo something on him too, something to remind him of you. But then you’re whining from lack of attention, and Jungkook leans down, kissing you deeply.

You run your hands on the skin of his back, nails lightly digging in his skin, and when he grunts softly, you whisper, “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He goes fully insane. Insanely in love, perhaps. He undresses you, kissing every inch of skin revealed, and though he wants to taste you, to eat you out until you come undone on his tongue, his dick is throbbing too painfully for him to ignore it.

You’re glistening, your arousal evident the second his eyes land on you. He still takes a moment to slip two fingers inside of you as he kisses you again, swallowing your soft moans as they come. And when he thinks you’re ready, stretched enough for his dick, Jungkook takes off the rest of his clothes. His dick springs free, already rock hard like it always is with you, and he jerks himself off a couple of times as he watches you, as you watch him through half-lidded eyes.

“Condom?” he asks, though he hopes you’ll say no.

He wants to feel all of you again.

You shake your head no. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Fuck,” he curses, his dick hardening even more. “Fuck, peach, I love you.”

He comes closer, rubbing his tip on you, collecting your juices. It’s so sensitive without a condom, and he has to bite the tip of his tongue so that he doesn’t come right away. It doesn’t help that you’re so wet. That a moment later he’s slipping in, inch after inch, your walls sucking him in. 

It doesn’t help that you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows bunch together from the pleasure. You’re so hot like this, so sinfully beautiful, and some feral part of him just wants to pound into you, to fuck you until the whole neighbourhood knows that you’re his forever now.

But he tames himself, slowly pulls out before pushing all the way in again. 

“Kook,” you moan, and your hand finds one of his where it’s holding your waist. “Come close.”

You don’t have to ask twice, especially not as he wants you close, too. So he bends down, cages you between his forearms, and then he establishes a slow rhythm. Your hips lift to meet his, your walls tightening around him from the motion, and he knows he’ll come fast.

You’re too tight, too wet, for him to hold on for a long time. So he tells you how much he loves you. Whispers on your lips that he never wants to be separated from you again, that he thinks you’re the reason he’s alive. You confess your love back, tell him that he’s so worthy of your love, that you wouldn’t want anyone other than him. 

You tell him that you’ll love him when you’re old, which makes him laugh against your lips. There’s beauty in the thought, in the knowledge that he does have a lifetime with you.

“You’re…” he trails off, because he has no words to describe how amazing you are, and his dick is stealing most of the blood from his brain.

So he kisses you instead. Kisses you slow, kisses you deep, his motions growing faster until they turn sloppy, and then he pushes all the way in, his dick twitching as he unloads his cum deep inside of you. You hold him tight, pussy pulsating around him, and Jungkook’s high keeps going on and on, your lips muffling his groans and soft moans.

“I love you,” he says again when he starts being able to think once more.

He’ll never get tired of telling you.

“I love you too, Kook,” you whisper.

He’ll never get tired of hearing that, too.

Read chapter fifteen here!

☆☆☆☆☆

he is so in love with her please send help. Let me know what you think of the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

After the Applause (Ch. 6)

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/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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Hanbyul stared at the website confirmation page and felt certain she’d fucked something up. She hated this feeling, like she’d done something wrong. She’d probably attached the wrong thing, or missed some egregious typo, or maybe she sounded annoying in the cover letter. Maybe her headshot wasn’t actually a good likeness.

Thank you for submitting your resume and application. One of our recruiters will be in touch with you shortly.

She belatedly felt stupid to have done this on a Friday afternoon. Now the soonest someone would contact her would be Monday, which gave her at least forty-eight hours to convince herself that applying was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done and that they were going to laugh at her application and print it out just so they could chuck it in the trash.

Enough of that. She steeled her resolve (to do the thing she had in fact already done) and closed her laptop and crossed her arms in an attempt to look as confident as she wanted to feel. She deserved that job. Some parts were outside of her skillset or experience but most of it was familiar. A man wouldn’t let some pieces hold him back from applying. A man would apply and convince the interviewer why he was still the best candidate for the job, and so that’s exactly what Hanbyul was going to do. 

Because only about 20% of boardrooms in the country consisted of women and while Hanbyul wasn’t applying for a board position, that’s where she was reaching. Someday she was going to get there, and she’d take Sun-young –maybe by then a successful young scientist– out for coffee and say Thank you. Thank you for reminding me that we face extra challenges in the workplace and it’s our responsibility not to hold ourselves back because others will gladly do that for us.

Hanbyul would not be held back! She’d give it her all to get this new position with its better pay and improved benefits. If it didn’t work out, she’d apply for others. She’d call her parents more. She’d clean her apartment this weekend. She’d stop putting Namjoon off and finally have a truthful conversation with him –her responses had been vague and she was certain he could tell. Right now, she could do anything! Even with her trembling hands!

Because a nine-year-old had convinced her she could. Sun-young had inspired her, it was true. Her determination and serious efforts to convince her father that she ought to do science club had shamed Hanbyul into applying because she refused to be a woman who let her childhood confidence fade away. Not that she had ever been as confident as Sun-young, but it wasn’t too late to catch up! She wanted to be the kind of woman Sun-young apparently thought she was.

So she needed to do that other thing, even though she’d been dreading it: she took Hudu on a walk and called Namjoon. 

He picked up on the third ring, a little breathless but cheerful sounding. Not for the first time she wished she could just text him about this but he deserved more than that. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully he wasn’t that invested. He couldn’t be, right?

“Hanbyul? Hey, I was just thinking of messaging you–”

“Hi Namjoon. I, um… I’m sorry, I have sort of disappointing, um…”

“Bad news? Are you ok?”

She cursed how sweet he sounded. The confidence after submitting her resume began to drain away. Why was she doing all these exhausting things in the same day? She had foolishly overestimated herself. 

“I’m ok but… I know I haven’t been very responsive lately and I wanted to just be direct because you’re really great and you deserve that.”

“Ah.”

“I’m really sorry but I’m just…”

There was silence on the line. She appreciated that he seemed to understand without her saying much. Or maybe he was just shocked. Stunned. Heartbroken?! Oh god, she’d never broken anyone’s heart before.

“Look if you’re just really busy right now or something, I get it. I know I’m traveling for work a lot too, so…”

“It’s not that. I mean, I am busy, and I just applied for a better job so maybe I’ll get even busier but–”

“Oh congratulations, I hope it goes well–”

“Aish, don’t be so nice,” she complained. “I feel awful, Namjoon. You’re such a great guy and–”

“You don’t have to do that. I mean you don’t have to comfort me. I mean, it sucks, because you’re… but…”

She tugged Hudu to the side of the path so she could stop and squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t he be an asshole about this? She’d feel so much better. She was aware that she was stupid, that this was stupid, that she was ending what could become something good with a great guy for no reason. Or at least not a good reason. 

“I feel like shit.”

“It’s ok.”

“No, don’t you comfort me!”

“Can I just ask… it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable, but I just…”

She waited, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted and her face flushed and the blood rushed in her ears. This was awful. She didn’t have much experience calling things off with men and when she did, the guy had usually seen it coming and not cared that much anyway.

“Did I do something? Is there some… feedback you can give me or…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all,” she quickly insisted. And then because she felt too miserable and clung to a piece of driftwood she thought might make it better: “You’re such a great guy. To be honest, I kind of have feelings for someone else and I thought I could get over it but I can’t and you deserve better than that.”

For a moment he was silent again. She could hear his breathing; he always seemed to hold the phone so close to his mouth when he spoke. 

“I get it,” he said. “That really sucks. Sorry you’re in that situation, and I hope he figures it out quick.”

“I don’t think he will but… um… thanks. And I’m really sorry, Namjoon.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And uh, give me a call or something if you’re ever not… not feeling things for someone else, I guess.”

“I will,” she blurted out because she couldn’t think quickly enough on her feet. She ended the call before she could say anything else stupid and pressed it to her forehead. Had that gone well or not well? She couldn’t tell. She supposed it could have been worse… but she felt like she shouldn’t have mentioned having feelings for someone else. What if he somehow figured out she meant Jimin?! And it was a cop out anyway because that wasn’t the only reason. She was emotionally compromised, but she didn’t break off with Namjoon for Jimin. Jimin wasn’t an option! She just didn’t see a future right now with anyone who wasn’t… Jimin.

She felt punchy in a different way now. She practically jogged home with Hudu, which she never did and clearly confused him; he kept looking up at her like he expected someone else might be holding the leash. Once home, she dug through her cabinets looking for anything to soothe or distract but her cupboards were practically bare. Why did she have so many ingredients but no food or alcohol?

It was in this state of desperation that she received a message from Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook: hey re hitting up hongdae club aura and youre coming

Hanbyul: ok I’m in

Jeon Jungkook: wait really???

Hanbyul: did you mean to invite someone else? 😅

Jeon Jungkook: you but you never take me up on it!

Hanbyul: I don’t want to sit at home tonight

Jeon Jungkook: ok ouch didn’t need to make an excuse

Jeon Jungkook: whatever, you can’t bring me down, see you at 10

Hanbyul: TEN?! 

Jeon Jungkook: why are all my friends grandpas? 10 is early! Don’t you bail on me too

Hanbyul: I’ll see you at 10 if you can actually get us in…

Jeon Jungkook: you’re cute, you’ll get us in

Hanbyul laughed. Hard. She knew she ought to be giddy for a man who looked like Jungkook to say that kind of thing, but he said that kind of thing all the time in a way that didn’t actually feel very specific anymore. Only after the date was set did she have a rush of terror realizing she had just agreed to go out clubbing with Jungkook… but it was true that she felt jittery and didn’t want to be home this evening. She felt like she could do anything! Even stay awake until 10pm to go clubbing on a Friday night! 

She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly which of Jungkook’s friends had insisted ten was too late at night. Though he’d obviously be the hottest one there, she didn’t think Jimin was into the scene –certainly not in the time she’d known him. She had absolutely no concern that Jimin would be at the club. She also felt like this might be a good chance to really establish a platonic friendship with Jungkook and quiet her slight fear that she was leading Jimin’s close friend on. You know, since she’d already slept with and ghosted then dumped another… 

Her dress was short. It was the shortest dress she owned. She didn’t really own revealing clothing, nothing sexy for hitting the clubs, but she’d bought this dress that was a little too small and so that would have to do. She’d just have to remember not to raise her arms or… disaster! 

She kept tugging it down as she made her way inside with no issue –Jungkook had put her “on the list” and texted her to come on in, which seemed really suspicious. He was easy to find, practically spot-lighted under a round table in a distant corner, animated and laughing with another guy and two girls.

She carried herself bravely forward, nerves instantly frazzled by the loud music, pulsing lights, and close bodies she had to weave her way through to reach them.

“Hey you didn’t bail!” Jungkook cheered when she reached his elbow. “My only true friend.”

The use of friend instantly set her at ease, though she wasn’t prepared for the names lobbied instantly at her amidst their shouts of protest at his remark: Jung Hoseok, Park Andi, and Han Chun. Years and connections were shared and she tried to keep up over the noise of the club, answering the questions as formally as a job interview. She had hoped no one noticed how nervous she was to be out with people she didn’t know, but Jungkook seemed to because he insisted on buying her a drink, which she was overwhelmed into agreeing to. Only when he returned with her cucumber something in hand did she realize there were two men and two women and Jungkook had just bought her a drink and maybe calling her his friend was all part of his plan. Even though that seemed absolutely ridiculous when both those women looked–

Oh. Hanbyul realized she had miscounted. 

“I can’t even count!” she groaned and let her face fall against her hand, not even caring that the slump might smudge her makeup or transfer oil to her chin and give her acne. Who cared what a girl who couldn’t even count looked like!

“Who’s counting? You don’t need to count anything right now,” Jungkook laughed. “You want me to do some math for you?”

“He can’t do math,” Hoseok immediately ratted him out. “Don’t ask him to do math, he just picks a number.”

“That’s not true!”

Andi giggled and leaned in close to agree, “He acts like he’s thinking really hard and then confidently gives a very wrong answer.”

“He doesn’t need math, he’s so pretty,” Chun suggested, though Hanbyul couldn’t tell if her smirk at Jungkook was predatory or just teasing. She didn’t know these people, and clearly her day was beginning to take a toll, so she really shouldn’t have come out. 

“Shut up, don’t blow my cover. Hanbyul’s a smarty, don’t make me look stupid,” Jungkook laughed.

Hoseok nodded and agreed, “I’ve heard about it.”

“About… me?” Hanbyul clarified, tilting her head.

“Neighbor Hanbyul,” Hoseok confirmed, which made more sense, even if it made her a little sad to be still Neighbor Hanbyul. “Sunnie talks about you a lot too.”

“Ahhh that girl.” Hanbyul grinned as a warmth blossomed in her chest. That was better, at least. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Jungkook’s stare and slow grin made her nervous as he nodded, the others confirming. It was quickly made clear they all knew Jimin and Sun-young –Hoseok was a teacher at Jimin’s studio, Hanbyul was quickly educated on, and Chun and Andi both danced with him and Jimin. When asked if she’d ever seen Jimin dance she admitted that she hadn’t and chose not to disclose her YouTube history. There weren’t many videos on there but there were a few! Anyway, they clearly meant seen him dance live, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“We hear a lot about your son, too,” Hoseok added. Hanbyul, mid-sip of her cucumber something, promptly choked. Jungkook seemed to take great glee in pounding her on the back.

“My what?”

“Hudu?”

“He’s a dog!”

“A dog can be a son!” Hoseok laughed with the rest of the table. He smiled with his whole face and it reminded her so much of Jimin she could almost believe they were related.

“Honestly a dog is the best son,” Andi insisted. “Like, I love Sunnie with my whole heart, but I don’t want kids of my own. I’ve got a cat and I want a dog too but I don’t think I’m tough enough to walk one in the winter.”

“You’re not tough enough,” Jungkook agreed; Andi dipped her fingers into her glass and flicked the droplets his direction.

“I would die for my dog,” Chun announced. “I can never have kids while he’s alive, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Hoseok sighed and admitted, “My dog still lives with my parents.”

“It’s their dog,” Jungkook snorted.

“It was my dog but I couldn’t have him with me at university housing when I was younger, and they were all so attached by the time I moved out on my own so– but we could get a dog,” he said, pouting his lips in Jungkook’s direction as if it all came down to his choice.

“I want a dog,” Jungkook agreed.

“Well fuck, let’s get a dog! Woah, but is it a betrayal of Mickey, that’s what I’m worried about…” Hoseok sighed and slumped.

Hanbyul murmured sympathetically and sipped her drink faster. She did not understand what was happening. On the surface she appeared to have joined a group of very fun, down to earth people who just happened to look insanely gorgeous and not of this world in shiny button-up shirts and sequined dresses. It was a complete injustice for these people to be both fun and look like that, and Hanbyul the boring dowager in her plain dress. 

Yet at the same time it made perfect sense because these were Jimin’s friends, and he was like that too! Hanbyul felt utterly stupid for having agreed to come out and yet simultaneously, selfishly fascinated. She felt like Jungkook had opened a door for her that Jimin had not, letting her see this adult social aspect of Jimin’s life –arguably without his permission. Not that he owned these people or anything… but if part of her reason for being here was to learn more about Jimin and get closer to him in that way… fuck, she was a creep! Would she have ever even talked to Jungkook if he wasn’t Jimin’s friend? She doubted herself now. 

“I’m getting another, do you want one?” Andi asked, nudging Hanbyul in a friendly, familiar way that she was flattered to have somehow already earned .She didn’t want another one, but she also did.

“I can buy you something back,” she offered Jungkook before following Andi.

“It’s fine.”

“I insist.”

“Ok, whatever you get.”

“Even if it’s girly?” she checked.

He gave her a horrified look and clarified, “It’s a drink, there’s no gender.”

Hanbyul too was horrified and insisted, “No, I know! But sometimes men are so–”

“I’m just fucking with you. Girly is fine, I don’t discriminate.”

Hanbyul did not know what to make of him, especially since Hoseok was now leaning to the side laughing into the final sips of his beer.

“Forget this, I’m coming too,” Chun decided. “They just want to stand around and drink.”

“We’re going to get more drinks…” Andi pointed out.

“But we can dance on the way and back!”

In that way Hanbyul found herself boxed onto the dance floor for a period of time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, she couldn’t have said. The music was high energy and heavy-bass and she couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began. Her movements felt painfully clumsy next to the graceful way Andi and Chun twisted and swayed. It would be obvious to anyone observing that she was no dancer –but everyone was packed too tightly for anyone to really observe. Hopefully. 

She was glad when it ended, and that relief led her to agree to the round of shots Andi bought. Chun missed her mouth slightly, the rum dribbling down the cleavage of her dress, which Andi dramatically helped her wipe. Then they leaned in close with Hanbyul and scouted out the hotties along the bar, of which they considered there to be very few. 

Hanbyul kept waiting for one of them to ask her something pressing or private –maybe why Jungkook had suddenly invited her along, or why she’d come, or why she thought she should delve further into Jimin’s life when she was just his neighbor– but they didn’t. 

The closest was Chun asking, “What do you think, Hanbyul? Anyone at this bar catch your eye? What’s your type?” But she didn’t have any malicious twinkle in her eye or bullying smirk, it really seemed like just a sincere question! And Hanbyul began to realize that maybe she was getting too used to workplace politics and competitiveness and it was interfering with her ability to just make friends. Was that what was happening here?

Maybe it was that hope, or maybe it was the alcohol starting to do numbers in her blood, but she admitted, “I don’t think I have a type… at least not one that has worked out for me.”

“Oh no. Something recent?”

“Oh… I did end something recently… but it wasn’t his fault, it was…” Oops. Just in time she realized she couldn’t say more about this without revealing way too much –not only because all roads led to their friend Jimin but also because she’d only just met these girls! “It didn’t work out,” she summarized.

“Another shot?” Andi asked, already signaling for the bartender.

“No, wait–”

“Yes!” Chun agreed. “You can feel sad about it tomorrow if you really want to, but tonight there’s dancing!”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Hanbyul found herself confessing. They were overwhelming, both of these women, pressing another shot into her hand. It was bitter this time and made all three grimace and smack their lips.

She thought they’d missed what she said anyway but Andi insisted, “There’s no such thing as a terrible dancer. Technique? Sure. But dancing is just… feeling! It’s just moving! It’s just breathing.”

“You have clearly not seen me.”

“I was dancing with you five minutes ago!” Andi laughed. “And now I’ll dance with you again, let’s go!”

Hanbyul had Jungkook’s and her drinks in her hand, but did her best to shimmy and sway adequately along with Chun and Andi in the direction of the table. She felt ridiculous but their acceptance was a balm on her self-conscious soul. Jungkook and Hoseok leapt up at their approach and began dancing as well. It was just such a completely different club experience than Hanbyul was used to when she would go out with work peers, or longer ago when it was college friends rotation around her, drinking too much, picking at each other’s appearances and achievements to feel better about themselves in what felt like a hunting grounds for sex.

This didn’t feel that way at all! Hanbyul found her nerves dissolving with each sip, with each song (assuming it wasn’t just one long song playing which she thought entirely possible), with each moment of shared laughter. It was impossible but she began to feel as though she had known these people for a very long time.

Also the alcohol helped. 

Hoseok spun her around –vaguely she recalled making some comment about ballerinas– which led to her promptly over-balancing against him, or it was possible Jungkook had bumped into her, and possibly on purpose because they were dancing near their table and the space was tight and everyone was very close together. She felt barely on her feet and slid around to lean against the table instead and catch her breath so she didn’t accidentally drag Hoseok down. Their empties were gone and she hesitated over the waters, which had now sat unguarded for some period of time. She ought to get water fresh–

“Hey hey! You came out after all!”

Hanbyul didn’t know how she even heard Jungkook’s shout over the noise other than her sixth sense suddenly shooting an alarm up her spine. She turned, not even bothering to hope it was literally any other friend of Jungkook’s than Jimin.

No, worse. 

There was Jimin, an eyebrow lifted and his mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction.

And there beside him, both eyebrows lifted and mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction, was Namjoon.

“Fuck!” she choked out.

Jungkook gasped and grabbed her arm, asking, “Did I step on your foot?”

“No but I suddenly need to go home– I mean yes, I need to go home.”

“Shit, how bad–?” Jungkook dropped to a crouch, reaching for her foot. Which was a very bad look, she thought. She leapt away from him, but teetered again because the alcohol. The alcohol! Shit, she could not be drunk at a club like this in the presence of either Jimin or Namjoon and most definitely not together!

“I’m fine, but I’m heading out. Goodnight!” Would they believe that she hadn’t seen them and that’s why she wasn’t greeting either one of them? All of this had happened in the span of four seconds.

No, it wouldn’t make sense, even her alcohol-riddled brain knew they were directly in front of her.

“You really don’t have to leave on my account–” Namjoon said.

“Why do you have to go, just because I’m here–” Jimin said at the exact same time.

They stopped and looked at each other and Hanbyul lost at least three years off her life. 

And then mercifully, before they could say anything, Andi flung her arms around their shoulders and cheered, “You sad sacks came out after all? Let’s get you some motherfucking drinks!”

“Wait, you’re both really here? You never come out!”

“I have a kid,” Jimin defended, suddenly all smiles as Chun descended, pinching his arm and brushing something off his shoulder. 

“I, uh,” Namjoon coughed and looked over their heads. “I just don’t like places like this.”

“Oh sorry it’s not refined enough for you,” Andi tittered. “Too busy at art galas and restaurant openings to consort with club scum, huh?”

“Andi,” he complained, dimples flashing, all the charm Hanbyul had initially liked about him. And yet she felt so closed off from it now, like she could recognize but not really connect with that charm. How could she when Jimin was there beside him, glowing like her north star?  

Hanbyul saw her chance and took it. She ducked around them all and tried to flee for the door. She could call an Uber and be speeding away, looking back through the rear window, before anyone even noticed she was gone.

Unfortunately, the club was a confusing place and after weaving across the throng of dancers, she’d been carried by the current upstream to the bathrooms. 

“Shit-shit,” she mumbled to herself and darted inside because she really did need to pee too and better to do that now. Maybe they’d think she was already gone and stop looking for her and she could still escape. She took her time, braced every time the door opened for it to be Andi or Chun ruining her escape. But as some amount of minutes (uncountable because alcohol) ticked by, she steeled herself and found her confidence. She could get out of here. Whatever Namjoon and Jimin talked about in her absence, at least she wouldn’t be here to face it. That was a Tomorrow Hanbyul problem. Today Hanbyul needed to get the hell out of here.

She stepped boldly from the bathroom in the direction she was certain was the front door –and ran boldly into Namjoon.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Namjoon,” she said, thinking as she said it how casual and cool she sounded. Might as well tack on hey, wow, I didn’t see you, didn’t know you were here!

“Hey look, I– sorry, I guess I surprised you… I didn’t know that you uh… knew these people… or would be out at a club… tonight. This club. With these people.”

“Oh, yeah, it was sort of a… a spur of the moment thing. Jungkook invited me along and I didn’t want to just sit at home so…” Her words caught up to her and she realized how terrible that sounded. I dumped you but I also didn’t want to be bored so I just went clubbing.

“Ah. So Jungkook uh… is the guy…? I didn’t even know you knew him…”

“What guy?”

“That you said…” He leaned in close as the music took a turn, and the warm scent of his cologne was unkind as he said closer to be heard, “You said you had feelings for–”

“Oh! NO THAT’S NOT HIM!” she shouted, stiff-arming him away. A little too roughly, she realized, and quickly grabbed his arm and apologized, “Sorry, I– I forgot I told you that. No, it’s not him. He’s just a friend. Sort of. And I– sorry, I’m a little drunk right now kind of?”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t just break things off with you and go party, I was feeling pretty bummed so I thought I’d do something out of the ordinary…I mean, it was the right thing to do but like I said, um… but now you’re here and…” And Jimin is here…

“Hey, it’s fine,” Namjoon assured her. “If you aren’t comfortable with me here, I can leave but if it’s ok, I can be cool.”

“You’re very cool,” she agreed.

He smiled, a handsome dimpled smirk like she hadn’t answered his question correctly, and corrected, “I just mean, I’m only going to be here for a drink and then I’ll go. This isn’t really my scene so don’t let me chase you away.”

“Ok.” 

“And uh, just so it’s out there, if you… ha, nevermind. I’m just going to get my drink, don’t mind me.” He held his hands up and backed away and Hanbyul hated not knowing what he’d been about to say. Maybe: if you want to be friends, that’s cool, I can refrain from ever letting anyone know we had sex and a few dates. She hated that he was probably not saying that.

Almost as much as she hated seeing Jimin standing not too far off, having clearly watched their interaction.

She couldn’t go talk to him. Not while Namjoon would see her and she would probably say or do something that would make it immediately obvious who Jimin was to her because damn he looked so good! He’d gelled his hair back and rolled the sleeves of his dark button-up to his elbows. The club lights flickered off his earring, as if he needed any help from a spotlight to draw eyes to him. Hanbyul felt like the crowd dramatically parted, like the lights shone specifically for him, from him. 

She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed to see her invading his friend group, or if he had a guess as to what had happened between her and Namjoon. For all she knew, Namjoon had told him everything before they came tonight, or in the time since she’d fled the table, and Jimin had come to demand what the fuck was wrong with her.

But Namjoon was a class act, maybe he hadn’t said anything. Maybe Jimin was only curious about why she and Namjoon had been speaking so closely. If she left now, all Jimin would know was whatever Namjoon said about it. If she stayed and everything seemed cool, maybe Jimin wouldn’t think anything weird was happening. She’d mentioned before she spoke to Jungkook through the app, so it couldn’t be a total surprise she was here.

It made sense in her mind, and was a better excuse than that other thought: I just want to hang out at a club with Jimin. 

Who was she kidding, she couldn’t stay here!

He was walking towards her and she couldn’t move. 

“Hey,” he greeted when he reached her and she wondered if he ever used that line on women at the club because it would totally work, looking like that.

“Jungkook invited me and I had a really long day so I thought it would be good to get out of my apartment,” she blurted out in an attempt to distance herself from Namjoon in one sweep.

“It is a good idea,” Jimin said. “I didn’t know you went clubbing.”

“Rarely.”

“Me neither.”

“You look like a natural,” she assured him.

“Clubber?”

“Huh?”

Jimin shook his head and laughed, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Me?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Yes,” she said, despite knowing she really shouldn’t. More alcohol was the last thing she needed but Jimin had offered! Jimin twisted his hand behind his back so she could hold onto it and trail him through the club to the bar. Jimin asked her what she wanted and paid and she felt bad to let him pay but he’d bought her a drink!

Drink in hand, she was the one to lead them back to the table, though it had been abandoned; all Jimin’s friends were dancing. She thought to join, but Jimin leaned against the wall and she felt anchored to his side.

He nudged her arm and asked, “So how do you know Namjoon?”

“Dating app,” she answered quickly. “And Jungkook. I think all your friends are on there… I make a lot of friends on there… it’s not just for dating!” What was she even saying? She thought maybe if she said “friend” enough it would be enough to save her.

“Friends, huh?” He was practically shouting to be heard, not leaning in as close as Namjoon had. She wished he would; she felt like the distance meant something. “I don’t know anything about apps but I started an account today. Guess I’ll see you on there, huh?”

Hanbyul didn’t know what to do with that information. Why had he made an account on a dating app?!

Same reason as you, moron. Park Jimin was ready to start dating again, that’s what it told her. He’d come to the club looking like that, so maybe he’d been hoping to meet someone here. He must be, to come out when he didn’t normally. The thought of watching him pick up a woman made her break out in a cold sweat. What if she ran into her leaving Jimin’s apartment in the morning–no, probably he wouldn’t take someone there with Sun-young at home, but maybe she was spending the night somewhere else? 

“I hear it’s tough though,” Jimin said, still shouting. “Namjoon had a thing going I guess and it ended today so I made him come out too.”

Oh god, he knows.

“I’d rather meet people the traditional way,” he continued.

“Here?” she asked, face twisting into a grimace. “I guess it depends on what you’re looking for.” 

“Ah… I don’t know…”

“Not all of us meet people as easily as you but I don’t think you’ll have a hard time,” she shouted back.

He pressed his hand over his eyes and then laughed, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Do you need a pep talk before you go hit on someone?” she asked, drawing on all of her strength to be what he needed in this moment and not do what her drunk brain was encouraging her to (lean in and kiss.) “You are brave and smart and funny and–”

“Are you giving me the same speech you gave my daughter?”

“Maybe!” she laughed because he was laughing and because it all felt briefly very funny, having this shouted conversation in the club with Jimin. Encouraging him to go meet a woman “the traditional way” (drunk in a bar) to take home and do the things she wanted to do with him and hope he didn’t find out she’d done those things with his friend already… but different things! Similar in theme but different!

He finally did lean in and begin, “You know what she told me today? She– hey, maybe we should go somewhere we can hear–”

“HEY!” Chun suddenly appeared, followed in short order by Hoseok. “The fuck are you wallflowers doing?”

“Come dance,” Hoseok agreed. “You can talk at home!”

There wasn’t room left to argue. She and Jimin were dragged out, downing their drinks on the way to abandon on a table, and then pressed into the dancing mob. Hanbyul had hoped to position herself so she could at least dance near Jimin, but her hesitation when faced with Namjoon and what he might realize about her feelings towards his friend was just enough time for Andi and Chun to slide in between. Instead Hanbyul found herself on the fringe with Jungkook and Hoseok.

Maybe that was for the best. She was like a baby: without Namjoon or Jimin in sight she was able to forget them, aided by alcohol and loud music and the antics of these two of Jimin’s friends. Despite being physically graceful men, they were clearly just having fun with dancing; both grinned and laughed and didn’t take themselves too seriously which helped her feel less self conscious about what her less-drunk brain would have termed “awkward motions at best.” Maybe she was getting the hang of dancing in the club! Maybe she’d be confident enough now to dance over closer to Jimin! 

Abort abort abort!! Hanbyul froze at the familiar way a random woman danced with Jimin, her hands trailing over his body. Maybe she wasn’t random? Jimin did not seem put off by it, just laughed and lifted her hands but kept her close. Hanbyul wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Jimin really that bold or did he already know that woman? Hanbyul couldn’t imagine dancing with a man like that. The envy flooded her.

She tried not to look again but it was hard not to. She felt suddenly like a switch had flipped and all the fun she’d been having abruptly turned off. She was being stupid jealous. Hadn’t she just encouraged Jimin to go meet someone? And they were just dancing. And even if it went somewhere, it wasn’t any of her business.

“I need water,” she announced to no one in particular and disappeared again, responsibly leading herself to the bar. It tasted weird and unpleasant in her mouth, and at the first sip she had the urgent need to pee, which meant another swim upstream through the crowds to reach the restrooms. The club was becoming less fun by the minute.

She didn’t think that much time had passed but when she tried to find the group again, they’d scattered. Trying to locate them was a fool’s errand; she’d think she saw one only to squeeze her way there and find it to be someone else. She was all twisted around. The room felt overly loud, the music too loud, the lights too bright. 

There, Jimin!

At the bar, nodding as the woman from earlier leaned in close to say something in his ear. He said something back, right in her ear, then appeared to look around before shaking his head. The woman touched his arm.

Hanbyul knew her night was over. She couldn’t stay here and watch him pick up a woman. She shouldn’t have been here in the first place. She could still see Namjoon out of the corner of her eye, that good guy she’d dumped for no reason other than that it was casual fun when she wanted something serious with someone who was not available, only for him to immediately find her out at the club. She couldn’t find Jungkook. She barely knew Andi and Chun. Her feet hurt and her head was swimming and she felt like she kept getting drunker even though she hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

Oh no, she realized with a longing for sobriety. I drank too much. Control of her arms and legs felt exaggerated, and the music felt like it was leaking into her skull, and she had the impulse to take off her clothes because it was so hot in here.

Don’t do it! The last tendril of her rational self pleaded with her to behave. She shushed it gently with a finger to her lips.

“You!” a voice at her elbow called. She spun, expecting Jimin, finding Jungkook.

“You were lost!” she cried.

He glared and wagged his finger, “You disappeared! I’ll be in deep shit if I lose you!”

“With the proper authorities?”

“Wha?”

Someone bumped into her and she edged closer to Jungkook with a pout. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wished Jimin would take her home –no, Jimin wouldn’t take her home, even though they lived right now to each other. Jimin might be taking someone else home.

“He’s still talking to her,” she realized, her eyes landing on Jimin despite the crowd. She couldn’t tell if it was the same woman but it didn’t matter. Jimin was going to take home whatever woman he wanted and meet more women on the dating app and Hanbyul was going to have to just sit back and cheer him on. She wanted to cry.

“Hey, you ok? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I want to go home,” she said in a small voice. “I’m too drunk…”

“Ah, damn. No, don’t cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she vowed, though didn’t quite believe it herself.

“What? I can’t hear you… let’s just get you home,” he said, as best she could tell. When he nudged her towards the door, she let him guide her out. It had cooled off considerably outside and she shivered. The sudden shift in volume left her feeling teetery, as if she’d been leaning on the noise and body heat.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, hand gripping her arm.

“Um, just a little bit… I can get a cab…” she pulled her phone out of her purse and promptly dropped it on the ground. “Oops.” It was embarrassing for Jungkook to see her like this. She didn’t know how she’d gotten this far, just one drink leading to another, and it was all fine until suddenly she fully understood she was watching the love of her life–

“He’s not the love of my life,” she insisted.

“What now?”

“I don’t know, where’s my phone?”

Jungkook held it up, but promptly overbalanced and fell on his ass. Only when he started laughing did Hanbyul consider she wasn’t the only drunk one, and it was overwhelmingly comforting in that moment. A few tears did leak out then.

“Shit, you’re crying. Let me go get Jimin, he’s better with that kind of–”

“NO!”

“No… Jimin?”

“Can I sleep at your place?”

“Uh…” Jungkook looked up at her from the curb. “Yes… but–”

“Not to have sex!”

“Ok geez.”

“No, I have to get home to Hudu… where’s my phone…” 

“It’s dead,” Jungkook told her.

Hanbyul promptly sat down beside him on the curb and sighed, “Well shit.”

“I’ll get you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No? I should just wave and let you walk off? Jimin would shred my balls and peel the skin off my body.”

“Ew,” she gasped.

“Oh he can take you home, he lives right by you.” Jungkook began to rise but Hanbyul knocked against him to send him sprawling again. “What the–”

“No!” she cried on a delay. “Anyone but him.”

“Anyone?”

“It can’t be him. He’s… busy.”

“Busy…?”

“Like… flirting. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Nah, he won’t mind.”

“I can’t! He can’t see me like this! Who knows what I’ll say?!”

“What’s the worst you can say?” Jungkook laughed. “‘I’m in love with you’?”

Hanbyul grabbed his arm, eyes going wide, and demanded, “Did I say that?!”

“Wha?”

“How did you know that?!”

“The… fucking… wait… do you?”

“Did Namjoon tell you that?!”

“What does Namjoon have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t tell him who but I didn’t think he would show up today and why is Jimin friends with everyone in this city–”

“He’s a friendly guy.”

“I know and I know I’m just a friend so you don’t have to tell me but I still didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to admit she’d fallen in love with him, or unknowingly slept with his friend, or that her jealousy over him even talking to other women in the bar right now was going to consume her.

“Hey.” Jungkook nudged her arm with his. She gave him a miserable look. “I don’t think you’re just a friend.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. That’s sweet of you… I think…”

“No, I mean–” A car interrupted him, pulling to a stop so close that they both scrambled backwards. “Oh that’s our car.” She thought it was too soon for a car to have arrived. How had he even ordered one on his phone without her seeing? They scrambled into the car like a pair of street rats.

“Oh my god I’m too drunk I shouldn’t have been saying any of this! Stop making me talk!”

“It thinks it’s the alcohol.”

“Too much,” she sighed. “Why did I come out with you?”

“To have fun. Admit it, you were having fun.”

“I was, until…”

“So you’re like… in love with–”

“Stop saying it! I didn’t say that.”

“You pretty much did,” he tittered.

“You can’t tell him. Promise me. Promise me, Jungkook, not a word!”

“Why would I tell him your business?” Jungkook snickered. “I think you should tell him. And let me watch.”

“Jungkook. Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook–”

“Hanbyul, what.”

“We can never tell him,” she said with utmost sincerity, grabbing his hand and squeezing as tightly as she could. “He can never know.”

“Why not?”

“He and Sun-young are too important to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeah but what if you’re important to him too?”

“I am. I get to take care of Sun-young sometimes and he likes my cooking…” She closed her eyes because the car ride was making her dizzy. At least thinking of Jimin helped settle her head just enough she didn’t think she was going to puke in the backseat of the Uber. Probably. 

“Yeah but what if he thinks you’re more important than your cooking?”

She smiled and wished she could move enough to pat his head as she explained, “He doesn’t but I can be happy with being neighbor Hanbyul, but not less than that if I make him uncomfortable and he stops talking to me.”

“I don’t really know you a lot but I don’t think you should settle.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I’m sweet,” he agreed. “I think it matters, love and romance and… and thinking someone is the best part of your day…”

“Are you a romantic?” she gasped.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I thought you were a…”

“A what?!”

“A flirt…” Fuckboy.

“I am a flirt. I can be both. And I’m not setting for anything less than… I’m waiting to meet someone who gets all red faced talking about me like you do about Jimin.”

“I do not! I’m just drunk!”

“It’s cute.”

“I wish I could fall out of this car and have it run me over.”

Jungkook laughed hard and Hanbyul actually felt all right for him to know her secret. At least for right now. Even though he was one of Jimin’s best friends, at least right now her drunk mind did not perceive a threat that he would run and tell. Right now he felt like her friend too, like they were just two drunk girls in the bathroom sharing secrets. Except it was the back of a cab and his only secret was that he wanted to be in consuming love someday. To be honest, Hanbyul did not think being in love agreed with her so far.

Because yes, she was a little bit in love with Jimin and so far it was nothing but stomachaches.

They walked together up to her apartment. She thought he was just being a gentleman, but when she got back from the quickest pee she’d ever taken Hudu on, she found Jungkook puking in her bathroom.

“Mixed my alcohols,” he groaned. 

Well, Hanbyul was drunk enough to spill her secrets but not enough to puke. With any luck, Jungkook wouldn’t even remember these conversations tomorrow; she hadn’t realized he was as or even more drunk than she was.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she told him.

“The couch? Come on, let me share your bed.”

“Jungkook!”

“We don’t have to fuck! Jimin would never forgive me–”

“Stop talking about it!”

“About fucking? Or Jimin? Or fucking Jimin–”

“Jungkook!”

“Come on, you’re practically my sister in law at this point, just let me sleep in your–”

“I am not! What are you talking about?!” She covered her face and leaned against the wall. And refused to admit that she felt some secret little thrill in this teasing, in someone else making her connection to Jimin seem real and acceptable and possible. Even though she knew it wasn’t and that Jungkook was just a brat who was enjoying teasing her –which was sweet in its own way but she was definitely going to die of embarrassment tomorrow if he remembered any of this.

When she uncovered her face, Jungkook was holding Hudu, swaying slowly with the pup under his chin, and humming. 

Until he suddenly set Hudu down and sprinted to the bathroom again. At that point he decided he wanted the couch after all, since it was closer to the toilet. Hanbyul brought him a trash can too and a glass of water, by which point he was already asleep. Not that she was far behind. The room spun as she lay in bed, the events of the day sliding and jostling over each other.

Jimin was so handsome. And sweet. And charming. And kind. And handsome.

It didn’t matter what Jungkook said. Jimin wasn’t interested in her like that, as evidenced by his attention to other women, as evidenced by his mentioning dating other people to her several times now, as evidenced by his joining of a dating app when there was a perfectly ok Hanbyul down the hall.

Plus… Namjoon.

Well. This had been fun. But Hanbyul was never going to drink again and never going to go out with Jungkook and their friends again.

But first she made sure Jungkook was asleep with traitor Hudu curled up on his legs, and closed her bedroom door, and let her vibrator walk her through the memories of the way Jimin had looked and danced, except this time around her, kissing the lingering taste of his drink into her mouth…

Jimin slept like shit. Every time he’d start to doze, he’d grab his phone again, squinting at the blinding brightness to see if there was a message back. Occasionally he’d manage to fall asleep only to bolt up, certain he’d heard his phone ring –that obnoxious awful ring he’d put on ever since that one time Sunnie’s school hadn’t been able to get hold of him because he always kept his phone on silent and they’d called Hoseok, the second emergency contact, to go get Sunnie and she’d thought it meant her dad died too.

There was never an obnoxious ring going off. Instead he drifted in and out of sleep until Sun-young was awake, enough of an excuse to get out of bed and go through the motions of making them both breakfast and rattling off their plans for the day. Not that there was much for this one blessed weekend. Jimin wasn’t teaching any classes or partaking of any workshops or attending any performances by fellow dancers. Sun-young wanted to see her friends but there was nothing planned yet, and she had no weekend dance since there was no reason for her to take on extra. It wasn’t time for dress rehearsals yet. For her final recital.

“We need to grocery shop,” Jimin suggested, because their fridge was empty and that made him think of cooking and food and Hanbyul, which was better than thinking of Sunnie quitting dance. Hanbyul who had not answered his phone call or either of his texts asking if she got home all right. That wasn’t excessive, was it? But she’d been very drunk, and every time he’d tried to make his way over to her, Kim Hayoon kept catching hold of him again –and he couldn’t exactly just shove her off because she sat on the board of a scholarship that aided many of his students, which in turn kept his lights on and doors open.

Hanbyul must be ok. Just hung over. Hoseok said he’d seen Jungkook getting her an Uber and while Jimin would have greatly preferred that someone let him know Hanbyul was heading out so he could catch a ride home with her, he knew he could trust Jungkook. The fact she was drunk was both obvious and endearing, he could see it in the way she danced without her usual reserve, and the exaggerated way she responded when anyone talked to her. She just had a different look in the club when they’d talked that he couldn’t quite explain but it had just felt… different. He hadn’t understood she was drunk at first when they spoke, and maybe she wasn’t yet then, maybe that came later. He didn’t know, she just seemed happy. He had gotten painfully little actual time with her and the injustice of that was palpable. She’d looked amazing and he had never in his life expected to be at a club with her and he would have liked to dance together. Preferably just the two of them… and what the fuck was wrong with him that he hadn’t managed to make it happen?!

“I’m not hungry,” Sun-young said, possibly related to his comment about grocery shopping. He closed the refrigerator, now several degrees warmer, and looked over where Sunnie poked at her gyeran bap, cheek resting on her hand.

“You want cereal instead? We have…” He trailed off, realizing they had none. Hanbyul might have some he could bum off her…

“No,” Sun-young sighed. “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure, but we should go grocery shopping today and figure out what else we need to do… laundry… do you have homework?” Even as he said these things, he frowned. He did need to do these tasks, but he also wanted to just have fun with his daughter. Maybe Hanbyul could come along? He could tease her about last night, make sure she understood he had wanted to dance with her–

But to what end? He’d dance with her and maybe she’d humor him and only think to herself a little why is this old dad wanting to dance with me at the club? Why is he even here? He didn’t usually go to clubs –not because he didn’t enjoy them but because he didn’t usually have the time or energy. But Namjoon was bummed because that girl he’d been dating had called things off and it wasn’t serious but it kinda sucked and so Jimin had called in a favor with Yoongi and put himself together and gone to the clubs.

And there was Hanbyul, for no reason he could comprehend at the time, long hair pulled back to show off her neck, wearing a cute very short dress he’d never seen her in before… vibing with Jungkook. For a moment he’d lit up like a holiday tree with surprise and envy and relief, because here was an opportunity to spend time with Hanbyul in an adult setting except she was already spending that time with Jungkook! 

And then there was whatever Namjoon and Hanbyul had been talking about by the bathroom. He didn’t realize she’d gotten to know so many of his friends around him and now he felt even more like an idiot not to have invited her into his circle long ago. They clearly got along with her, she seemed happy –except for that moment she spoke with Namjoon, and looked so distressed it was hard to hold himself back from running in to save her. Maybe he should have. At the time he’d hesitated because Hanbyul wasn’t his to save and whatever they were talking about wasn’t his business. He’d been anchored by that twist of displeasure that she was young and single and pretty and so were his friends. 

Sun-young curled up on the couch with a blanket and watched some kid drama with an unblinking, disconnected stare. It dragged Jimin from his thoughts of Hanbyul.

“You ok, Sunnie?”

“I’m tired.”

That was wildly unlike her. Jimin perched on the edge of her couch and touched her forehead but couldn’t decide whether it was unusually warm or not. 

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Your head? Your stomach? Your throat?”

“I don’t know, I just feel…”

“Yes?” he prodded, waiting for the revelation.

“Tired.”

Illness in Sun-young always raised a panic in him on par with what he’d experienced when she was only an infant and he and Subin young, inexperienced parents convinced every sniffle could be the first sign of something fatal. Most parents learned over time through proof of the contrary that colds were common and their child was healthy, though the fear always lurked in the shadows. But when Subin was suddenly very sick, and only a short time later died, it broke that security in Jimin. Any illness could be the last one. 

The doctor’s office was used to his overreactions at this point. He didn’t care, though he tried to reign it in once Sun-young made clear she found the coddling overbearing. He tried to trust her assessment of her own body, but she was a child! She gave him nothing to go on this time anyway, just tired, so Jimin checked ears and nose and throat, took her temperature, pressed on her belly, took her temperature again.

“A small fever,” he murmured.

“I think it’s just a cold,” she said, drooping to the couch again. She nudged his leg. “I can’t see.”

“Your vision is hazy?!”

“You’re blocking the TV.”

“Oh…” 

“My throat hurts a little,” she conceded, as if throwing him a bone in his worry. He had thought it looked a little red, her lymph nodes a bit swollen to touch.

This called for an aggressive offense of yuzu jelly tea, popsicles, and Sunnie’s favorite stew samgyetang. But they were out of popsicles, there was only a scrape of yuzu jelly left in the jar to make tea with, and of course he had no samgyetang readily on hand.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten now. Surely Hanbyul would be waking up –even if she’d slept in with a hangover. In fact, he had some Easy Tomorrow she could drink! He should have taken it over last night and regretted his thoughtlessness now. She might be having a rotten morning and it would be shitty of him to show up and ask if she had any yuzu jelly or could make samgyetang for his sick daughter.

But she might be already making it for herself, and she might not mind sharing the jelly, and she might appreciate the Easy Tomorrow later than never. Plus he could confirm with his own eyes she’d gotten home safe.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to see if Hanbyul has yuzu jelly.”

“Tell her to come watch TV with me,” Sun-young said from her blanket burrito. “You can say I’m sick if it makes her come.”

“I think you are sick, kiddo.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

She coughed immediately afterwards, as if even her body couldn’t stand by the dismissal of her symptoms. Jimin would never. Already he was evaluating just how far he’d let her symptoms get before he’d take her to the doctor. The answer: not very far.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he knocked on Hanbyul’s door. She might have a headache so he started quietly but when he didn’t hear anything, graduated to the buzzer.

He tracked footsteps to the door and then a pause during which he assumed Hanbyul was peeking through the peephole to see who was bothering her on a Saturday morning. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too rough.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking puffy-eyed and crusty. He yawned and scratched at his cheek and gave Jimin a sleepy grin.

“Hey, Easy Tomorrow, thanks,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “I was just heading out. Hanbyul’s still asleep if that’s who you’re looking for.”

Jimin was so completely stunned to be confronted by Jungkook answering Hanbyul’s door that he could only stammer out, “Who else would I be looking for at Hanbyul’s apartment?”

“Yeah, good point.” Jungkook unscrewed the cap from the bottle and downed it in one long chug while Jimin just stood there, waiting for an answer to any of the questions he couldn’t find his voice for: why are you waking up inside Hanbyul’s apartment wearing yesterday’s clothes? Why did you go home with her? Why did you invite her out in the first place? Are you two dating now? Did you fuck?

Bottle empty, Jungkook handed it back to Jimin and clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “It was good you came out last night. I think everyone had a lot of fun.”

“Uh… yeah, uh…”

“Fuck. Think I’ll get some more sleep at home… see ya later. Tell Sunnie I said hey.”

Jungkook did not seem to realize that Jimin was stunned speechless. He set off down the hall, leaving Hanbyul’s door open as if Jimin was going to just waltz right in. She wasn’t even out of bed yet! Had she slept naked after Jungkook…

Jimin pulled the door shut, making sure he heard the click of the lock before sprinting back to the safety of his own apartment. There he snuggled down beside Sun-young and pulled out his phone to order yuzu jelly tea and stew and anything else he could think of that they wanted for delivery, cost be damned. 

What the fuck?! Had Jungkook really gone home with and slept with Hanbyul?

Jimin couldn’t even process it. Jungkook ought to know she was off limits! But also, of course Jungkook wouldn’t think she was off limits, because Jimin never said so, because she wasn’t off limits. Even if it felt wrong for her to not be off limits. Even if Jimin and Hanbyul weren’t dating, she shouldn’t be dating any of his friends either, right?? Because… because there was still an emotional connection there…

Jimin flat out didn’t know what to do. Everything in him warred between marching right over, coming out with it and seeing what she said… and doing anything in the world except that.

But coming out with what? What did Jimin have to offer Hanbyul? Absolutely nothing in some areas and too much in others. A single father, a dead wife, a heart still trying to adjust to the idea of letting someone else in. If Hanbyul was interested in Jungkook, then Jimin was not the guy for her. Jimin should be looking for someone older and settled or something anyway, right? Maybe someone with a kid too, so they could mutually burden each other –not that he thought Sun-young was in any way a burden, but it was a lot to ask someone who wasn’t a parent to suddenly become one!

“Is unnie coming?” Sunnie asked, sitting up and leveling a pink-faced pout in his direction. 

“Oh uh, I don’t know, she wasn’t awake yet.”

“Can you call her? I really want her to come over.”

Jimin stroked Sun-young’s hair and took her acceptance of this touch as proof she was very sick. 

Would it be such a bad thing if Hanbyul wound up with Jungkook? He could use someone to look after him, and she could use someone who could be fun and free with her. And she’d still be in Sunnie’s life, just as an aunt instead of…

Was he really thinking of Hanbyul like this? It wasn’t in any explicit way, words still seemed impossible and ill-fitting and heavy. He didn’t know what he wanted, he doubted Hanbyul wanted this nameless space, he was too afraid to look directly at this thing taking hazy shape in his mind, this future starting to come into focus. Did the future have to be big and scary? Wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world right now for Hanbyul to walk in from the other room and settle on the couch with them, legs folded beneath her, Jimin’s arm around her shoulder and Sun-young draped across their laps? Hanbyul’s head settling onto his shoulder…

The physical closeness was the only thing that would be new, and he wanted it. He craved it in such a sudden, overwhelming rush that it almost drove him from the couch to take a lap around the apartment to work out this restless energy. He wanted Hanbyul here and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t. Sunnie wanted her here too! Couldn’t they just have what they wanted this time? The scene was playing out in his mind, the casual affection, Hanbyul’s hand stroking Sunnie’s hair, Jimin’s fond smile, maybe a soft shared kiss once Sun-young drifted off to sleep halfway through the movie. God, to kiss Hanbyul, to share a warm, close embrace that he’d been deprived of for years! And for the first time in as long, the longing for it didn’t bring him to his knees in grief. Subin was there in his heart, forever and always, but there was space for Hanbyul too, space he desperately wanted her to fill. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at the empty space on the couch as if she was really there, as if they were sharing the phantom first kiss. His flush was as real as if they had.

God, he was pathetic. Lonely, and latching on to a fantasy of his neighbor. He tried to push the thoughts from his head with limited success and turned to narrating the TV show to Sun-young instead until she insisted he stop. 

“Is this what you want to watch? Here, let me get you socks and your stuffie. Maybe you need some medicine too? I think delivery will be here soon–”

“Appa just stay still with me.”

He immediately froze, still as a statue as Sun-young adjusted in his arms, her little warm body curled up with his in a way he’d feared she had outgrown. 

Well he sure fucking wasn’t moving now.

“Ok. I’ll stay,” he assured her. 

“Did you message unnie?”

“Yes,” he partially lied. “But she has something else going on. It’s just going to be us, ok?”

“Ok,” Sunnie sighed and he felt her head getting heavier against his chest. 

There. There, if she could accept it, he could too. They didn’t need Hanbyul or anyone else in their lives. The two of them and the memory of Subin were a whole-enough family. Things were already getting better between them since he’d budged on the dance and science, and the future would be ok. 

He’d let Jungkook know to take care because Hanbyul was a good woman, and then he’d let go of that silly dream he’d almost fallen into.

He had Sunnie and Sunnie had him and they didn’t need anyone else in the world.

Except maybe someone to get the delivery at the door so he didn’t have to unsettle his sleeping daughter. Shit! 

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