ruu

jungkook: come over

here we go.

you roll onto your side, thumb hovering over the glass. your chest feels tight, that familiar ache of wanting to give in and wanting to scream at him at the same time.

you: no.

the bubbles appear instantly. he’s hovering. he’s waiting.

jungkook: why are u being so difficult?? just come over

you sit up, the sheets pooling around your waist. you think about the instagram story you saw three nights ago.

the loud music you could practically fucking hear through the screen, the way some girl's arm was brushed against his shoulder while he laughed at something his friend said.

he looked like he didn't have a care in the world while your "where are you?" texts went unread for hours.

you: how am i being difficult when you barely could explain what happened a few nights ago??

jungkook: for fucks sake. i told you nothing happened, and i was going to come over later that night. shit just got carried away.

you: yeah but you didn’t. so until you tell me the truth, i ain’t coming over for shit. goodbye.

you toss the phone face down. you know what comes next. he’ll call. he’ll say he got carried away, again. he’ll say his friends made him stay, and then beg for me to forgive him.

it’s the same cycle. he pushes you away with his silence, leaves you wondering where you stand, and then the second you start to build a wall, he tries to kick it down.

he wants you close enough to touch, close enough to have, but never close enough to actually hold onto.

your phone buzzes again. then again.

you pick it up. it isn't a text this time. it's a picture.

it’s a blurry picture of his calvin klein sweatpants that you bought for him.

his length clearly hard, his hand just barely placed right above it.

then a voice note follows.

you press play, and his voice is low, scratchy with sleep or maybe something else.

"don't be like that," he mutters, the sound of a lighter flicking in the background. "i'm literally begging. just let me come over. please."

well, fuck.

the "please" is what actually kills you.

it’s the only time he sounds like he belongs to you, and you hate how easily it works.

he acts like he doesn't care if you stay or go, but the moment you actually head for the door, he’s blocking the damn exit.

you look at your front door, then back at the phone. what are you even fucking doing?

you: I’m upset, jungkook. can’t you tell?

jungkook: I know. so let me make it up to you, baby. I’m coming to yours rn. leave the lock open.

you : fine.

he doesn't ask. he never asks. he just decides. that’s the problem.

and of course. of course, you're already reaching for the remote to buzz him in.

the sound of his heavy boots echoing in the quiet hallway makes your stomach flip.

knock. knock. knock.

"open up, baby.” he mumbles, his voice vibrating through the door. "know you’re there."

you pull the door open just a crack, and he doesn't even wait. he pushes his way in.

he kicks the door shut with his heel and immediately crowds you into the wall, his large hands coming up to cup your face before you can even get a word out.

"hey," he whispers, his nose brushing against yours. his eyes are dark, searching yours with a look that’s so soft it feels like a lie.

"jungkook, stop," you say, your voice coming out way weaker than you wanted.

you put your hands on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart through his hoodie. "we need to talk. you didn't even explain about the other night and i'm not just gonna—"

"shhh," he breathes, cutting you off with a lingering kiss on your temple. "don't do that. not right now, hm?”

he starts kissing the side of your face, his lips grazing your jawline, moving slow and deliberate.

every time you try to turn your head away, he just follows, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your cheeks. it’s so frustratingly gentle.

it’s the jungkook that makes you forget all the red flags.

"i'm still upset," you whisper, even as your eyes flutter shut. "you can't just come here and act like everything is fine. i need communication, jungkook. i need you to actually tell me what happened."

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his thumb catching your bottom lip and tugging it down. "i know, i know baby. i’ll tell you everything you want to know, okay? just... not now."

he leans down, finally capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes like a promise he probably won't keep.

it’s deep and slow, his tongue slicking against yours until your knees feel like they’re going to give out. your hands, which were supposed to be pushing him away, are now fisted in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

"i know you're mad," he murmurs against your mouth, his hands sliding down your back to hook under your thighs, lifting you up so you have to wrap your legs around his waist.

"why don't you take this off for me? let me take care of you. make you feel good.”

you let out a shaky breath, your resolve crumbling into a million pieces. he carries you to the bedroom, the room only lit by the dim light of the streetlamps outside.

he lays you down like you’re something precious, hovering over you while he watches you struggle with the hem of your shirt.

"that's it," he praises, his voice dropping an octave as he watches the fabric fall away. "so pretty for me. you have no idea how much i thought about this while i was out."

he doesn't rush. he spends forever just worshiping your skin, his mouth exploring every inch of your neck and collarbone. he’s a talker, just like always.

"you like that, don't you? can feel your heart racing," he whispers, his hands moving down to unbutton your jeans. "tell me you missed me. tell me you wanted me here."

you just groan, your head hitting the pillow as he works his way down. he's so focused, so intent on making you feel every single thing.

when he finally moves between your legs, his hands are firm but careful, spreading you open.

"look at me," he commands softly. you open your eyes, seeing him look up at you from between your knees. "gonna make you forget why you were even shouting at me earlier, hm? gonna make you feel good. that’s what you deserve, yeah?”

and he does. his tongue is precise, findng exactly what you need, his fingers working in perfect sync.

he’s talking the whole time, multiple praises and dirty whispers that make your toes curl.

"yeah, just like that— fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby. keep making those sounds, i love hearing you moan f’ me.”

by the time he finally moves back up, you’re a mess.

you're calling his name, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he sinks into you.

it’s not fast or rough, not like the usual.

this time it’s slow, and incredibly intimate.

but it’s on purpose.

he keeps his eyes locked on yours, murmuring about how good you feel, how much he missed the way you fit together.

fucking asshole.

you knew this was his way of saying “sorry”, of trying to avoid the questions you’d bombard him with.

and for a moment, everything is perfect.

but then, the moment he releases in you, the feeling passes.

the room goes quiet except for your heavy breathing as you both collapse onto the tangled sheets.

you’re waiting for him to pull you into his chest, to kiss your forehead and stay in this bubble for just a little longer.

instead, you feel the bed shift.

jungkook reaches over to the nightstand and grabs his phone. the bright screen lights up his face, casting a glow over his features. he’s scrolling, his thumb moving fast, and a small, amused smirk plays on his lips.

the silence in the room suddenly feels heavy again.

you hated this part.

you hated that he’d talk like how he did just to get into your pants, and then he’d completely act as if you didn’t exist right after.

it had you overthinking most of the time, which led to arguments, and arguments led to a prolonged lack of communication. which would then be fixed by him knocking at your door again, and fucking you, again.

and the cycle repeats.

you try to talk, hoping that something would change this time.

"that felt ... felt really good, kook," you say softly, trying to catch his eye. "missed you.."

"mhm," he hums, not looking up. his eyes are glued to his screen. “me too.”

"maybe we could, i don't know, cuddle and watch a movie?" you suggest, reaching out to trace the tattoos on his arm. "or we could just stay like this for a bit."

"yeah, down for that," he says, but his tone is totally flat. he’s still typing something out, his focus a million miles away from the bed you’re currently sharing.

you watch him, the ache in your chest returning.

he’s right here, his skin still warm against yours, but he’s already gone.

he’s back to being this version of himself, the one who treats you like an option once his needs are met.

you ponder what you are to him. and it doesn’t help with the already lingering questions and thoughts in your head.

you shift closer, resting your head on his shoulder, trying to force the intimacy back into the room.

he doesn't pull away, but he doesn't drop the phone either. he just shifts his arm slightly so he can keep scrolling.

"who are you talking to?" you ask, trying to sound casual, even though your heart is sinking.

"just the guys," he mutters, finally locking the phone and tossing it face down.

he sighs, a long, tired sound, and finally rolls over to face you. he looks at you for a long beat, his expression unreadable.

"c’mere."

he pulls you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin. it’s exactly what you asked for, but it feels different now.

"we're good, right?" he asks, his voice muffled by your hair.

you want to say no. you want to bring up the girls, the ignorant fucking texts, and the fact that he was supposed to be over a few days ago, but bailed and has yet to give you an explanation.

but you’re tired, and his arms are warm, and the scent of him is already drugging your brain again.

"yeah," you lie, closing your eyes. "we're good."

the next morning, you expected him to be gone.

you expected to wake up with a note on your bedroom table, but you see him awake, and staring at the ceiling

you can’t help but smile, thinking that maybe things were changing.

but oh were you fucking wrong.

"hey, morning.” you mumble.

“didn’t think you’d still be here.” you whisper, and his head turns towards your direction.

“just don’t have anywhere to be today.” he replies.

you simply nod, trying to not think much of it.

“m’ gonna shower," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.

"i'll join you," he says. he doesn't look at you, but he stands up and follows you into the bathroom.

you feel a tiny spark of relief in your chest, a little smile tugs at your lips. maybe last night actually meant something. maybe he's actually staying present this time.

right?

the shower is steaming up fast. you step under the water, waiting for him to pull you close, to continue that sweetness from a few hours ago.

but he just stands there.

the silence is deafening, punctuated only by the aggressive spray of the water against the tiles.

he’s washing himself without even looking at you, his eyes occasionally looking up at the bottle of soap.

he looks like he’s a million miles away, like he’s already mentally left the apartment.

fuck, you hated this.

"kook?" you say.

"you okay? you’re like... unusually quiet."

"i'm fine," he mutters, not looking up. "could you pass me the soap."

you hand it to him, your fingers brushing his, but he doesn't grab your hand or even acknowledge the touch. he’s dry and he’s cold.

the warmth from last night has been completely drained out of him.

you try one more time, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "did you sleep okay? i was thinking maybe we could go grab some—“

he sighs, cutting you off.

he fucking sighs.

"don't really feel like talking right now," he snaps, rinsing the soap off his chest. "just wanna get clean."

he finishes before you, stepping out of the glass stall without a second glance.

you stay there for a few more minutes, the hot water turning cold, feeling that familiar knot of frustration twisting in your gut.

your mind is racing with thoughts, you quickly do what you need to do, and within minutes you’re out.

and you don't even bother with a towel.

you throw on a tiny tank top and your underwear, your hair dripping wet and sticking to your back, and you march out into the living room.

he’s sitting on the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone, fully dressed in his jeans and hoodie like he’s already halfway out the door.

"jungkook. did i do something?" you start, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

"was it something i said? or did i suddenly become invisible the second you fucked me last night?"

jungkook doesn't even look up from the screen. "no. what are you even talking about?"

"then why the fuck are you acting like this?" you raise your voice, stepping into his line of sight.

"last night you were literally begging to come over. you were so sweet, so gentle, acting like you actually gave a shit about me. and now? you’re acting like i’m some stranger you just happened to wake up next to!"

he finally looks up, and his expression is so blank it makes you want to scream. "i don't know why you’re yelling so early in the morning. i’m literally just sitting here."

"no!— you’re not 'just sitting here,' jungkook! you do this every single time!" you’re pacing now, your wet hair spraying droplets on the floor.

“whenever you mess up, you turn into this perfect version of yourself. the perfect version for me. you use the sweetness to get back in my fucking bed, and the second you get what you want, you shut down, you shut me out! you treat me like a fucking convenience."

he scoffs.

"you’re reaching," he says, his ego flaring up as he stands to face you. he looks down at you, towering over you with a nonchalant shrug that drives you fucking insane.

"i came over because i wanted to see you. i made it up to you. what more do you want?"

"i want you to actually be here! and i want to know what we actually are for fucks sake." you shout, poking a finger into his chest.

"i want to know who the real you is. is it the guy who calls me baby and kisses my forehead, or is it this cold, selfish jerk who can't even look at me over breakfast?"

jungkook scoffs, shaking his head like you’re the one being crazy. "what do you mean?" he asks, his voice sounding genuinely confused, which only makes it worse.

holy shit you’re about to break.

"i'm right here. i'm staying, aren't i? you’re the one creating a problem out of fucking nothing."

"nothing? you think this is nothing?" you’re practically vibrating with rage, the tears starting to prick at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall.

“you lie to me all the time, you bail on me for like— the 60th time, and then you come here and act like you own me. you use me to feel better about yourself and then you check out. i’m so fucking tired of guessing what you want from me."

"you know what, I’m not doing this with you," he says, his jaw tightening.

he’s already reaching for his wallet and keys on the coffee table.

"you’re being way too much right now. you’re always searching for some deep meaning behind everything. this isn’t fucking third grade literature y/n! sometimes a shower is just a shower."

you cannot believe those words just flew out of his mouth.

"fuck you! leave then!" you scream, your voice cracking.

"because i'm done trying to translate your bullshit signals. you’re a coward, jungkook. you can’t even handle one real conversation without running away."

he stares at you for a long beat, his eyes cold and hard. he looks at your messy hair, your shaking hands, and he just sighs like you’re an inconvenience.

wow.

"fine. have it your fucking way," he says, shoving his phone into his pocket. "you’re confusing as shit, you know that? one second you’re pulling me closer and the next you’re screaming at me. i can't keep up with this. i'll see myself out."

he doesn't even look back. he grabs his jacket, throws it over his shoulder, and walks out.

the door slams.

the sound of the door hitting the frame echoes through the empty apartment, final and sharp.

the silence that follows is deafening. you stand there in the middle of the room, the dampness of your hair making you shiver. the adrenaline drains out of you all at once, leaving you empty and hollow.

you collapse onto the couch, the same spot where he was just sitting, and finally, the first sob breaks through.

you hate him.

you hate how he makes you feel like the crazy one just for wanting the truth.

you hate that even now, with your heart breaking, you're already wondering how long it'll take before he sends the next "can I come over? let me make it up to you." text.

and the worst part is you already know what your fucking answer will be.

the silence in the apartment is literal torture.

it’s been seven days. seven days of you staring at your phone, checking his "last seen," and then getting mad at yourself for even caring

your room is a fucking mess. clothes on the floor, empty take out containers on the desk, and the curtains are drawn shut like the time you mourned the death of that one dinosaur that was left behind in jurassic park for a week.

you’re laying facedown on your bed, scrolling through your old photos, when you hear aggressive banging on your apartment door.

"y/n! open the door! i have a safety pin and a clip and i'm not afraid to use them!" yunjin yells through the wood.

you groan, dragging yourself up. you look in the hallway mirror and wince.

your skin is pale, your hair is practically a bird's nest, and you’ve got dark circles under your eyes.

you open the door just as she’s about to kick it.

"finally," she snaps, pushing past you. she stops in the middle of the living room and gag.

"oh my god. girl. it smells like literal sadness in here. when was the last time you opened a window?….. or showered?"

"i don't know. leave me alone, yunjin," you mumble, walking back to the couch and burying your face in a pillow.

she doesn't leave. she starts opening the curtains, letting in the blinding sun.

you hiss, clearly irritated.

but she does not give one fuck. she sits on the edge of the couch and pulls the pillow away from your face.

"okay, talk to me. seriously. what’s up with you? it’s been a week. you’ve been ghosting the group chat and you didn't even post for jimin’s birthday. is it him?"

you feel the lump in your throat getting bigger.

“so it is him, isn’t it?”

"he just... he left, yunjin. like, for real this time. we had this huge fight after he stayed over. he was being so sweet that night, like actually gentle, trying to make up for the shit we fought about a few nights ago.” your voice trails.

“and then the next morning it’s like he flipped a switch. he was cold and dry and when i called him out on it, he just walked out. he slammed the door so hard i thought the frame broke."

yunjin’s expression softens. she reaches out and rubs your arm. "did he say anything after? a text? a call?"

"no. nothing," you whisper, and your voice cracks.

"and that’s what hurts the most. i thought after everything... after the way he was looking at me that night... i thought he’d care enough to at least check if i was okay. but he just went back to his life. he’s probably out right now acting like i don't even fucking exist."

“it hurts, yun. it really…. fucking hurts.” your voice softens, tears threatening to fall as you can feel your heart physically being stabbed.

"oh, my poor baby… you know what he is? he’s a coward," yunjin says firmly.

"he uses that nonchalant act because he’s scared of actually being real with you. he’s acting like he doesn’t care because he’s too scared to have any real feelings."

"i just feel so stupid," you say, a tear finally escaping.

"i just… i ponder what i even am to him, yun.”

“like, am i just someone he calls when he’s bored of his friends? am i just a backup? i hate that i let him back in every single time. i hate that i'm sitting here crying and he's probably totally fine."

yunjin pulls you into a hug, letting you just leak into her shoulder for a minute. she lets you cry it out, not saying anything until you’ve gone quiet.

"oh baby. you’re not stupid," she says, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

"you’re just human. and you deserve to feel the way you do right now….. but you’re also a bad fucking bitch, and you’ve forgotten that because you’ve been rotting in this apartment for a week.” she says firmly.

“you’re not gonna sit here and cry over a guy who can’t even send a text. you're way too hot for this."

she stands up suddenly, clapping her hands. "get up. go to the bathroom. exfoliate. shave. and for gods sake, take a fucking shower. I love you, but you reek.”

"why?" you ask, wiping your eyes, looking up at her.

"because we’re going to the club tonight. jimin and taehyung are already texting me. hara is coming too. we’re gonna go out, get some drinks, and remind you that the world doesn't start and end with jeon mother fuckin’ jungkook."

"yunjin, no," you groan, falling back onto the cushions.

"i look like a literal zombie. my hair is a mess, i have nothing to wear, and i just want to sleep for another ten years.

"fuck no. you’re not sleeping," she says, heading for your closet and tossing clothes around.

“i’ll pick the fit and do your makeup. we are going to get you a vodka soda and you’re going to dance until you forget his name. blackout, if you must. anything to have your mind away from him and his circumcised dick.“

you look at her, seeing that look in her eyes that means she’s serious. you look around your depressing apartment, then back at your reflection in the glass of the tv.

"fine," you mutter. "but if i cry in the middle of the dance floor, it’s your fault."

"I can work with that, we have a deal." she chirps, pointing toward the shower.

"hit the shower. now."

by the time yunjin is done with you, you actually

look… not disgusting. she put you in this tiny, tight black dress and did your makeup so good you barely recognize yourself.

the club is completely packed when you guys get there. the bass is thumping so hard you can feel it in your chest, and the air smells like perfume, sweat, and expensive drinks.

you follow yunjin through the crowd, trying not to trip over everyone, until you see the booth in the corner.

jimin, taehyung, and hara are already there, sitting around a table full of drinks.

"holy shit! look who’s alive!" jimin yells over the music, jumping up to pull you into a massive hug.

"i thought you actually died, you’ve been so quiet on everywhere."

"yeah, well. blame yunjin, she dragged me out," you laugh, sitting down next to him. taehyung hands you a shot of tequila immediately, and you down it, feeling the burn hit your throat.

the club gets a bit drowned out after a couple more drinks.

you lean closer to jimin, since you guys have always been close but haven't really caught up in forever. you start telling him a little bit about what happened last week.

"he’s just so exhausting, chim," you shout over the loud music, holding your drink tight.

"one second he’s literally begging to see me, being all sweet, and the next he acts like i’m a stranger. i don't even know what we are. and he always avoids that exact question or tries to push me away when i bring that topic up."

jimin nods, looking all sympathetic. "he’s always been like that, babe. he doesn't know how to show emotion. he thinks that the only way he’ll get through life is by being this— closed off version of himself. we’ve tried telling him it never ends well. but does the fucker listen? nope."

“you’re doing the best you can, y/n. don’t beat yourself up about this too much, okay?” he finishes, rubbing your shoulder slightly.

“now, what shall offer m’lady? perhaps a highball? or maybe a—“ suddenly, jimin stops talking. his face goes completely blank, and his eyes shift toward the entrance.

"holy fucking shit," jimin mutters, his grip tightening on his glass. "look who just walked in."

you turn around, and your heart literally drops straight into your stomach.

jungkook.

well, shit.

he’s walking in with two of his guy friends. he’s wearing an all black fit, his hair is messy, and he looks entirely too good.

he looks completely fine, like he hasn't lost a single second of sleep over you.

"fuck. holy fucking shit. i— i shouldn't have come here," you whisper-yell, instantly panicking. you grab your clutch, ready to bolt. "yunjin, we have to go— if not, i’m leaving right now."

"are you phsycotic?! stay down! don't be so dramatic!" yunjin hisses, grabbing your arm and pulling you back into the seat.

"are you seriously going to let this jerk ruin your night? what did we talk about on the way over here? live your fucking life y/n. it’s about time you have some self respect! besides, you look way too hot to run away like some coward. just ignore him."

"ignore him? yunjin, he’s right there!" you’re literally hiding behind jimin’s shoulder, trying to peek through his arm like an absolute psycho.

it’s kind of funny how bad you're freaking out, and taehyung is just sitting there laughing at you.

jungkook doesn't notice you guys yet. he moves over to a table across the VIP section. and within minutes, a couple of girls in low cut tops slide right into his booth.

you feel that annoying pang of jealousy in your chest, but you somehow force yourself to keep watching.

the girls are doing the most, leaning in close and trying to talk to him. but jungkook just looks... bored. or just, out of it. you guess.

he’s in his own little bubble, sipping his drink and staring at the floor. he nods when they speak, but he isn't really laughing or entertaining them like that.

his friends are trying to hype him up, forcing him to take shots and enjoy the vibe, but he just looks totally closed off.

"see? babe, he looks miserable," yunjin whispers in your ear, nudging you. "he’s literally ignoring them."

"whatever, that means nothing." you mutter, but you can’t look away. it’s actually kind of funny watching these girls try so hard while he just sits there looking so nonchalant and annoyed.

after another hour of watching him from a distance, the tequila finally kicks in. you stand up, telling yunjin you need another drink.

"i'm going to the bar, need another drink.” you say, as she simply nods.

you walk toward the bar, making sure your hips swing just a little bit more. you can feel eyes on you. you don't look at his table, but you know he’s watching. you can literally feel the back of your neck tingling.

you reach the bar and order a vodka soda.

you’re waiting for the bartender when you hear a familiar voice right next to you.

you turn your head slightly, looking at the big mirror behind the bar.

and there he is.

jungkook is standing three feet away from you, ordering a drink for his friend. he looks over, catches your eye in the reflection, and his expression cracks for a split second.

he looks surprised, then his eyes darken as he takes in your dress.

you don't say a word. you just grab your vodka soda from the bartender, take a sip, and turn around to walk straight back to your booth.

you walk right past him. your shoulder brushes against his chest. it feels like a literal electric shock. you keep your face completely blank and don't stop.

but just as you step away, you hear his voice.

it’s low and rough. you haven’t heard it in awhile.

“nice dress.” he whispers.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck!

you hide your expression well, you don't even give him the satisfaction of looking back. you just keep walking, but inside, your brain is melting.

you get back to the booth and yunjin is basically vibrating in her seat. "oh my god we were watching! he saw you! what did he say? did he say anything?"

"he said he liked the dress," you mutter, trying to act cool but your face is definitely red.

"and? what did you do?" jimin asks, leaning in.

"nothing. i just ignored him and walked away."

jimin laughs, raising his glass. "nice one!”

you glance back over to his table one last time. jungkook is back at his booth, but he’s not even pretending to listen to his friends anymore.

he’s just sitting there, his chin resting on his hand, staring directly at your table with his dark eyes.

he looks completely wrecked that you just brushed him off, and for the first time in a week, you finally feel a little alive.

you finally feel the way he’s been feeling all the times when he’d act like this to you. and you’re fucking loving it.

you get back to the table and try your best to just keep yourself busy by engaging back into the conversation, laughing at whatever stupid jokes your friends are making.

you’re trying so hard to be unbothered. you want him to see that you’re perfectly fine, that your life didn't stop just because he decided to go ghost for a week.

but for the next hour, it’s just a straight up fucking mind game with him.

every couple of minutes, your eyes just automatically drift back to his table.

and every single time, he’s already staring. you quickly snap your head away, pretending like you were just looking at the lights or the crowd, and a few minutes later, you catch him doing the exact same thing.

he looks away the second your eyes lock. it’s exhausting. and your chest feel like it’s being squeezed.

( whip out spotify or apple music right the fuck now and put on “every breath you take” by the police!! — and I’d recc you to read it & follow the lyrics but do whatevaa!! x )

you take another drink just to make the knot in your throat go away.

and then, the bass dies down.

the loud club music fades out, and this familiar, soft intro starts playing through the speakers.

“every breath you take... every move you make..”

your entire body just freezes. your cup stops halfway to your mouth and you genuinely feel yourself stop breathing.

oh? oh.

“every bond you break, every step you take. I’ll be watching you.”

the dj comes on the mic, his voice sounding way too cheerful. "alright guys! let’s slow it down a little bit. grab your partner, or someone special to you and bring them out to the dance floor."

you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. a big fucking truck. of all the songs in the world, it had to be this one.

“every single day, and every word you say.”

this was your guy's song. it wasn't even a romantic thing at first— you just remember the exact night you both watched season 2 of the stranger things finale.

you both fell in love with the series and that exact scene of the ball, and from then on, it was just your thing.

“every game you play, every night you stay.”

whenever it came on randomly on shuffle, in a car, or in a store in public. jungkook would grab your waist and spin you around, both of you laughing without a care in the world. it was the only time things felt simple with him.

the only time things didn’t feel complicated, or rushed. time always stopped the moment the two of you moved your bodies against each other to that song. you felt almost… loved?

so yeah, horrible fucking timing.

slowly, you look back over at his booth.

“I’ll be watching you.”

only he isn't looking away this time. he’s staring straight at you, completely ignoring the noise and the people starting to stand up around him.

and his face isn't cocky. there's no smirk, no anger, nothing. his eyes look so heavy, almost... emotional. it’s a face you’ve literally never seen him make before.

you see his jaw tighten, not like he’s pissed off, but like he’s trying to hold something back. his eyebrows descend downwards, looking almost sad. completely wrecked.

your mind goes totally foggy. the crowd is moving, couples are walking past your booth to go to the dance floor, but it feels like the room is in slow motion. you’re just staring at him, trying to figure him out while trying to keep yourself from bawling right there and then.

“oh can’t you see?”

and then, of course, the worst thing possible happens.

one of the girls from earlier reaches down, grabs jungkook’s arm, and pulls him up.

you see his face look startled for a split second, like he was snapped out of a trance.

your mouth drops open a little bit, your stomach twisting into a sickening knot. because instead of shaking her off, instead of sitting back down, jungkook actually follows her.

“you belong to me.”

he lets her lead him right onto the dance floor. but he’s looking at you.

the second you see them start to move together to your song, you completely lose it. you couldn't believe what you were watching.

it felt like a literal slap to the face. the tears just start spilling over, hot and fast, blurring your vision.

“how my poor heart aches.”

you can see him looking over the girl’s shoulder, his dark eyes locked onto you the entire time he’s moving with her, but that just makes it a million times worse. it feels malicious.

“with every step you take, every move you make. and every vow you break.”

it feels like he’s doing it just to hurt you, just to prove he can.

"babe? hey, what’s wrong?" yunjin’s voice cuts through, her hand coming onto your shoulder.

jimin leans in, his face looking all worried. "hey, why are you crying? did he do something?"

you can’t hear shit. their voices sound like they’re underwater, completely drowned out by the lyrics of the song playing in the background.

your black mascara is already running down your cheeks, burning your eyes. you can't sit there for another second watching them.

you just grab your purse off the table, knock your chair back a bit, and rush out of venue.

you’re practically pushing past people, your head down, stumbling in your heels as you run toward the exit.

the music is still echoing in your ears, following you out of the main room, somehow getting louder the further away you go from the club.

you burst through the heavy doors and run into the bathroom located right outside the club entrance.

thankfully, it’s empty. the faint sound of the song is still vibrating through the walls.

you let yourself sink straight down against the back of the bathroom door, your knees pulling up to your chest. you’re sobbing so hard your chest hurts, horribly, the sound of your crying echoing against the walls.

your hand fists into your messy hair, pulling at the roots because you just want the pain in your chest to stop.

"you're such a fucking asshole!," you choke out, your voice breaking into tiny, pathetic sobs. "i h-hate you. i f-fucking hate you."

without even thinking, you unlock your phone with a shaking thumb. your eyes are so blurry from tears you can barely see the screen. you open your contacts and scroll down until you hit his name.

you click on his contact. right at the top is the profile picture you set for him.

a photo booth picture of the two of you from months ago. you’re biting his cheek and he’s laughing, everything looks so happy, and perfect.

your heart completely breaks into pieces looking at it. it feels like that boy doesn't even exist anymore.

with a shaky breath, you scroll all the way to the bottom of his contact page. you don't hesitate this time. you press the red text that says block this caller.

the pop up asks if you're sure. you press block contact.

you slide the phone face down onto the dirty bathroom floor, burying your face in your knees as a fresh wave of sobs hits you. you blocked him. it’s done.

but as you sit there in the quiet stall, listening to the muffled music outside, you just feel completely empty, and as the song fades out, so do you.

you wake up and your head is literally pounding so fucking bad it feels like it’s about to explode.

everything is a total blur.

you try to squint your eyes open against the light, and the first thing you see is yunjin and jimin’s faces right above you, looking down like they’re inspecting a corpse.

they’re whispering, but because your head hurts so bad, it just sounds like something’s stuck in your fucking head.

"i told you she's waking up, stop poking her arm," jimin mutters, swatting yunjin’s hand away.

"i'm not poking her, i'm checking if she's alive! she's been out for like 14 fucking hours," yunjin whispers back, sounding all annoyed.

"well, don't yell! you're gonna give her a headache."

"i’m literally whispering!”

you let out a weak groan, and they both instantly snap their heads down, their expressions softening the second they see your eyes are fully open.

"hey, hey," jimin says, his voice getting super soft as he reaches out to pat your shoulder.

"how are you feeling? you okay?"

"water," you croak out, your throat feeling like actual sandpaper.

yunjin immediately runs to the kitchen and comes back with a glass, lifting your head up slightly so you can sip it.

"what happened?" you mutter, rubbing your eyes. you look around and realize you're back on your own couch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket.

"how did i get here? the last thing i remember is... the bathroom."

yunjin scoffs, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"girl, we called your phone like a thousand times. we were literally panicking thinking you got kidnapped or something. then i remembered we have our locations shared on find my iphone, so i tracked you. it led us straight to the bathroom outside the club."

"we found you literally blacked out on the floor,"

jimin adds, shaking his head. "yunjin was about to call a whole fucking ambulance, but then we realized you were just completely out and asleep from the tequila and the crying. so i just carried you out through the back exit and we brought you home, and stayed the night so you wouldn’t wake up to nobody.”

you try to process everything they're saying, but their voices start to drown out as little snippets of last night start flashing in your head. the music. the song.

your, song.

jungkook looking at you. and then... that girl grabbing his arm and pulling him onto the dance floor to your song.

the memory hits you like a physical punch to the stomach.

"hey," yunjin says, noticing your face change.

"what actually happened last night? why did you run off like that? you can talk to us, babe. you know that right?”

you look at the two of them, and that fuckass of a lump in your throat comes back, twice as big this time.

"it was t-the song," you start, your voice trembling. "that slow song the dj played. it was our song. we used to dance to it all the time.”

you feel the hot tears start spilling over your cheeks again, your chest tightening. "and he was staring at me, yunjin. he looked so sad, like he actually felt something for once. but then this girl... this girl just grabbed his arm and pulled him to the dance floor. and he went. he actually went and danced with her while looking straight at me."

by each word, you get visibly more upset and hurt, the pain from the past week just bubbling over until you can’t hold it back anymore. you start bawling, completely sobbing as you just spew and rant everything you’ve been bottling up.

"fuck! i hate him so much!" you scream, cry, fisting the blanket in your hands.

"how does he— how can he, treat me like I’m fucking nothing. he ignores me for a week, acts like i don't exist, and then the second i try to have a little bit of fun, he has to ruin it. he has to show me that he can just replace me in front of my face. i blocked him. i blocked his number on the bathroom floor because i just can't do this anymore. i’m so tired of feeling like i’m losing my mind over someone who doesn't even care about me.”

“but why, why can’t I make this feeling go away. why… do I still yearn for someone who doesn’t yearn for me?” you question yourself, teary eyes looking up at your friends.

jimin and yunjin just move closer, wrapping their arms around you while you just lose it. they let you scream and cry for a long time, just listening to you let it all out.

"I’m so sorry my love. he’s jjust a piece of shit, babe," yunjin reassures you, wiping a tear from your cheek.

"you did the right thing by blocking his entitled ass. he doesn't deserve to have access to you if he’s gonna play with your feelings like that. you need space to actually breathe without him constantly messing with your head."

"exactly," jimin says softly.

"you gotta stop letting him dictate your mood. he only pulls those stunts because he knows you're watching. the best thing you can do now is just stay strong and not.. unblock him. let him see and feel what it’s like to actually lose you."

after like an hour of just sitting on the couch and talking it out, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your eyes are still completely puffy and your face feels raw.

suddenly, three sharp knocks appear on your front door.

"is that taehyung?" yunjin asks, looking at jimin.

"probably," jimin nods. "he knew we were coming here after the club and he said he might drop by if he got off from work early."

"i'll get it," yunjin says, standing up and walking over to the door.

she unlocks it and swings it open, ready to greet taehyung. but the second she sees who’s standing there, the smile completely vanishes from her face.

it’s not taehyung. it’s jungkook.

the moment yunjin realizes, she slams her weight into the door to close it, but jungkook is faster. he shoves his hand into the gap and forcefully pushes it open, stepping right into your apartment.

he looks a complete mess. his hair is all wild and unbrushed, and his eyes are heavy and droopy, like he hasn't slept all night. he’s just wearing a baggy black hoodie and gray sweatpants.

the second his eyes scan the room and land on you— wrapped in that blanket, with your eyes all red and puffy.

you can see his expression shift. it’s like his heart literally squeezes just looking at you.

your eyes widen, and you feel completely paralyzed. you can’t move a single muscle. you genuinely do not want to see him right now, not after last night.

"get the fuck out, jungkook," yunjin yells, putting both her hands on his chest and trying to push him backward out the door, but it’s completely useless.

he’s way too strong. he doesn't even budge. he’s just standing there, staring directly at you, and you’re staring right back at him, the room going dead silent.

jimin suddenly gets up from the couch and steps right in front of you, blocking jungkook’s view.

that’s when jungkook finally snaps out of his trance, his face twisting into a slightly annoyed expression as he looks at jimin.

"why the fuck are you here?" jimin asks, his voice low as he steps closer to jungkook. "get the fuck out of her apartment. she clearly doesn't want to see you."

jungkook scoffs, his ego flaring up despite how tired he looks. "i didn't come here to talk to you, jimin. move out of my fuckin’ way."

"i’m not moving shit," jimin says, matching his tone, his jaw tight. "you think you can just show up here after the shit you pulled last night? you wrecked her, and we had to be there for her because your ass couldn’t man up and comfort her for shit. so, walk away before i make you."

jungkook scoffs.

"you won't do shit," jungkook talks back, stepping closer until they’re practically chest to chest. "this is between me and her. you guys need to leave."

"she blocked your number for a reason. you’re a fuckin’ asshole and you need to take the fucking hint." jimin shouts, getting right in his face.

"you’re nothing but a selfish loser who uses her when you’re bored. you don't care about anyone but yourself."

that completely snaps jungkook’s patience. before anyone can even react, jungkook’s arm flies out and he punches jimin straight across the jaw.

"jimin!" yunjin screams.

jimin stumbles back a step, but he doesn't back down. his face goes completely dark.

he gets right back up and launches himself at jungkook, punching him square in the face, sending him stumbling back against your dining table.

the sudden violence completely breaks you out of your shock. what the fuck was happening?

you rush off the couch, dropping the blanket, and run toward them.

"can you two fucking stop!— stop it right now!" you’re yelling, completely upset as you and yunjin try to break them apart.

yunjin grabs jimin around his waist, pulling him back with all her strength, while you jump right between them, throwing your hands onto jungkook’s chest and shoving him backward toward the door.

"jungkook! stop— fuck! let go please!— fucking let go of him!" you scream.

when you finally manage to pull them apart, you keep your hands pressed against his chest, pushing him away.

you’re looking at him, so close to him for the first time after this entire horrible week. your breathing is heavy, and you find yourself whispering, "stop... please just stop."

jungkook finally looks down at you. he doesn't even acknowledge the fact that he just got into a literal fistfight, or that there's blood starting to smear across his face. his dark eyes are just searching yours, looking completely desperate.

"i need to talk to you," he whispers, his voice rough and low.

"are you fucking crazy?" you whisper-yell, your eyes burning with fresh tears. "you come to my house, force your way in, and fucking fight my best friend after everything that happened this week? after what you did last night?"

"i don't care," he says, his voice cracking slightly. "i don't care about any of that. i just need to talk to you. please."

just as he says that, a dark drop of blood drips from the corner of his swollen lip, sliding down his chin.

your heart completely winces. no matter how much you hate him, no matter how much he hurt you, seeing him bleed makes your stomach turn. you feel this horrible wave of guilt, like this is somehow all your fault.

without even thinking, your hand automatically moves up, your thumb gently wiping the blood away from his lip.

the second your skin touches his, jungkook’s hand flies up and grips your wrist abruptly. his grip is tight, firm, but his fingers are trembling against your skin. he holds your hand right there against his face, awaiting your answer.

"please," he whispers again, his voice literally breaking this time.

your eyes burn into his, and you slowly gulp, your mind completely spinning. you look at his messy hair, his droopy eyes, and the desperation practically oozing off of him.

slowly, you pull your wrist out of his grip. you turn around and walk over to jimin, who is leaning against the kitchen counter while yunjin checks his jaw.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, throwing your arms around jimin’s neck and hugging him tightly. "i'm so sorry, jimin. i'm so sorry— this is all my fault."

"hey, stop, it's fine," jimin mutters, hugging you back just as tight and patting your back. "it's not your fault. the guy’s a fuckin’ psycho.”

he pulls back and looks at you, then glances over your shoulder at jungkook, who is just standing by the door watching you hug him with a totally miserable expression.

jimin sighs, smoothing down your messy hair.

"look, me and yunjin are just gonna go for a drive around the neighborhood. we’ll give you guys some space to talk this out."

he raises his voice, speaking way louder so jungkook can hear every single word. "call us if anything happens. immediately. i don't care what time it is, you call and we’ll be back here in two minutes, alright?”

yunjin steps up and gives you a tight squeeze, whispering in your ear, "don't let him bullshit his way out of this, okay? stay strong."

you nod weakly.

they walk toward the door, and as jimin heads out, he purposefully slams his shoulder into jungkook’s, a hard, petty bump.

but jungkook doesn't even flinch. he doesn't even care at this point. his eyes are completely glued to you, waiting for the door to click shut so he can finally have you alone.

the door clicks shut, and the sudden quiet in the apartment is almost too heavy to breathe in.

you just stand there for a second, your hands shaking as you cross your arms over your chest.

a few fresh tears slip out of your eyes, hot and quiet, running down your puffy cheeks.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady your voice, and turn around to face him.

"talk." you say, simply.

jungkook takes a step closer to you, his eyes drooping and looking completely broken. he looks down at you, his hands twitching like he wants to reach out but he’s too scared to touch you.

"i'm so, so fucking sorry," he starts, his voice rough and cracking. "i don't even know what came over me last night. i don't know why the fuck i chose to follow that girl and dance with her. but i swear to god, i was only thinking about you. the whole time, i was just looking at you. i didn't even realize what i was doing until you stormed out of there, and then it hit me. i immediately pushed her away and ran out to chase after you, but you were just gone. i didn't know where you went, i couldn't find you anywhere."

he rubs a hand over his face, leaving a smear of jimin’s blood on his skin, but he doesn't even care.

not right now.

"i know we're not— exclusive. and we’ve never talked about it," he murmurs, his eyes burning into yours.

“but i know there's something here between us. i feel it, every single time. every time you hold me, touch me. but i'm scared. i'm so fucking scared because i've never felt like this before."

you just stare at him, the tears running down your face heavily.

"when i was young, in my first ever relationship... that girl broke me," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"i loved her so much, and she hurt me so fuckin’ badly. and even though it's been like fifteen years since that happened, and i'm completely moved on from her, a part of me still feels like the only way i can live my life without feeling that type of pain again is by just... not letting myself feel anything. especially love. i thought if i didn't care, i couldn't get hurt."

your heart aches hearing him say it, and you do sympathize with him, you really do. but the anger and the pain from the past few months is still too raw. too… painful.

"that still doesn't give you a reason to act the way you did," you say, your voice trembling as you look up at him.

"just because some girl broke your heart when you were younger, that doesn't mean you get to do the exact same thing to me. because whatever you felt back then? that’s exactly how i’m feeling right now. that’s how i’ve been feeling for months, kook. and i’m s-so tired. my chest physically hurts whenever i look at you. my heart literally squeezes whenever we have fucking sex, and then you just act like it means absolutely nothing the second it’s over."

"no— I, baby. y-you don't get it," he cuts you off, shaking his head and stepping even closer until he’s right in your space.

"i feel so amazing when i'm with you. I feel so good. but the only reason why i act like that afterwards is because i just feel like you wouldn't want me close to you. feel like if i do get too close, you’ll find me too fucking clingy or annoying or whatever, and you’ll just push me away. and i can't s-stand the thought of you pushing me away. i c-can’t stand being away from you."

you let out a bitter laugh. "you can't stand being away from me? then what about the entire week that you fucking ghosted me after we fought?"

"i didn't know what to do!" jungkook yells softly, his voice full of frustration and desperation.

"i felt so fucking s-shit, b-baby. felt like a fucking jerk because i knew it was entirely my fault, but i just... i couldn't face you after that. i know we fight a lot, there’s been so many times where we’ve messed up. b-but i couldn't face you after this specific fight. i don't even know why, but i think it’s because everything just came rushing to my head at once. whatever i was doing, how bad i was treating you... it just all hit me and i felt like i couldn't face you."

"i don't even know what to believe anymore," you sob, shaking your head as you look away from him. "every single time i ask you what we are, or even try to bring up the topic, you just push me away."

"i know, i know. fuck— I know baby. and I’m so sorry.” he rambles, his hands finally coming up to grab yours. his palms are warm and shaking.

"but it was never fully intentional, i always just had second thoughts about everything, i was just overthinking, but i knew that i wanted you. only you. because i love you and i just—"

he stops mid sentence. his breath hitches, and he just stares at you, his eyes slightly wide.

you freeze, your heart stopping in your chest.

"wait... what did you just say?"

( turn spotify the fuck on and play ‘iris’ by the goo goo dolls right now!! )

jungkook shuts his mouth, looking at you for a few seconds.

and then, a tiny, genuine smile touches the corner of his bleeding lip.

"i love you, y/n.” he says, his voice steady and soft this time. "i really fucking do."

he pulls your hands up to his chest, bringing himself so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

"and i'm so sorry i didn't get to tell you sooner. i'm so sorry it took me this long to realize it. but i swear, i promise you i will be better for you. i’ll change for you. i’m never gonna make you feel this way ever again, and i will never let another tear come out of your eyes because of me."

that completely breaks you. you’re fucking bawling now, as you lift your weak hands and start lightly hitting his chest.

"you're so f-fucking stupid," you sob, your forehead pressing against his hoodie. "you're so fucking stupid.”

you sigh, looking up at him. “i love you too."

"f-fuck. say that again," he whispers, his hand coming up to gently lift your chin so you have to look at him.

his eyes are bigger now, burning into yours.

and for the first time, in forever of knowing him, his eyes are not full of lust, but full of love.

and then he smashes his lips onto yours.

it’s not like before. it’s not fast or desperate. it’s deep, passionate, and so full of emotion it makes your whole body ache.

you’ve never kissed like this before, ever. your hands grip his neck, pulling him closer as his tongue slides slick against yours, tasting the faint copper of his blood.

his hands roam your body, pulling you flush against his chest as he moves his mouth down to your jaw, whispering against your skin. "you're s-so beautiful... so fucking beautiful. i'm so sorry, baby. for everything. gonna show you how much i love you."

he handles you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, guiding you back toward the bedroom.

when he lays you down on the tangled sheets,he hovers over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulls off your clothes slowly.

your clothes are discarded on the floor, leaving nothing between you but the heat of your skin.

his mouth lands on your left nipple, enveloping your bud into his mouth as he sucks on it lightly.

swirling his tongue around your bead as his eyes never leaves yours.

“t-taste so fucking good, so fuckin’ full for me.” he whispers, mouth attaching itself to your other nipple, giving it an equal amount of attention.

“k-kookie! mm— fuck!” your voice cracks, hands gripping his brown locks tightly.

“fuckin’ love your tits, the most beautiful pair in this whole fucking world. so soft. so mine.” he whispers, his mouth trailing kisses down your stomach, stopping above your pubic bone.

he brings himself back up, parting your legs.

his middle finger slides across your already drenched cunt, feeling the pool of wetness.

“you’re so fucking wet, all f’ me?” he whispers, coming closer to press a soft kiss onto your quivering lips.

“h-has— always only been for you.”

“y-yeah?” his voice breaks, looking into your eyes as he pushes two fingers inside of you.

“you’re so fucking tight, needa— needa prep you for my cock or else, I’m gonna nut the moment I’m in you, baby. fuck.”

his fingers move skill fully, curling inwards as he hits the spot that makes you squirm underneath him.

“mm— kook! I’m gonna— fucking. c-cum!!!” you yell, as he quickens his pace, before pulling out.

he hears you whine, and uses it as a chance to press another kiss onto your lips. whispering an “I love you.” in between the kiss.

he pushes himself up to quickly remove his sweatpants, hovering over you immediately to attach his lips onto your neck.

“gonna mark you, angel. make sure everybody knows you’re mine. all— all fuckin’ mine.”

his lips devour your neck like he was a vampire that was incredibly parched, sucking and biting on every single spot of your neck.

by the time he was done, your whole neck, once an empty canvas, was painted with sweat and faded purple.

his face hovers above yours, looking into your eyes as he smiles softly.

“s-so sorry, baby. gonna— gonna fuck you so well, m’kay? make sure you cum s’ fuckin hard and make you feel so good.” he whispers, positioning his dick at the entrance of your cunt.

“k-ookie..” your voice trails out.

“what is it, baby?”

“love y-you, s’ much.” you were barely able to let out, eyes filled with tears, unable to see.

“fuck.”

his lips crashes onto yours, once again. and he finally, finally. pushes inside of you.

“nghh— fuck. angel, you’ve gotta unclench. please, baby. I’m gonna fuckin’ nut if you don’t. please—“ he whines, as he pushes his cock deeper inside of you.

“feels so b-big, koo. I can’t— can’t take it, mmf— wait.” you cry out, he’s never felt this big before. not like this.

you wonder whether if it was the intense amount of emotion that was making the both of you feel this way.

“you can take it, yeah? you were made to take my cock. just mine. only mine. fffuckkkk— can feel your cunt just swallowing me whole. feels, so fucking good, baby.”

"you’re mine," he murmurs, his thumb catching a tear on your cheek.

"tell me you're mine. tell me you’re mine while im fuckin’ you. you feel so good, baby. i love you so much. so much."

and right at the peak of it, when he’s deep inside of you and your breathing is completely shattered, he pauses for a split second, his chest heaving against yours.

"may I be your boyfriend?" he whispers pleasingly, his voice breaking as he pushes deep again. "please. be mine for real. let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

"k-kook…yes," you sob, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another bruised kiss. "yes, jungkook, yes."

he groans, his pace getting a little faster, more intense but still so incredibly gentle.

you look up at him through your blurry vision, and you see it. small tears are actually falling from his own eyes, landing directly onto your already tear stained cheeks.

he’s crying with you, completely stripped of his armor, letting you see every single raw emotion he’s been hiding for months.

you couldn’t fucking believe it. couldn’t believe this was happening right now.

he keeps repeating it like a mantra against your lips, your neck, your shoulder. "i love you. i love you so much, baby."

“gonna fill you up so good. gonna put a ring on your fuckin’ finger. give you kids. buy you a fucking house. make sure you never have to lift a finger to work ever again. gonna do everything for you. build a whole life with you, you want that? baby?” he lets out, pulling himself slightly higher to slam into you harder.

“nghh— kookie! yes— mm! want— wanna have your kids!”

“yeah? gonna make that happen baby, gonna cum s’ deep inside of you until it sticks. make sure it doesn’t leak out of you.”

his hands held your legs apart as his pounds into you uncontrollably.

“I love you. love you so fuckin’ much. gonna fill you up so good. give you what you deserve. yeah?” he whispers.

“mmhh— please! please..!” you cry out, absolutely losing it the moment his fingers rub circles around your sensitive clit.

when he finally finishes inside of you, he pushes his cock deeper inside of you, refusing to let any of his seed leak out of you.

his forehead resting against your shoulder as he lets his weight settle over you for just a second.

after a few long minutes of just catching your breath, he pulls out slowly, wiping your tears when he hears you wince.

he lays down next to you, but jungkook doesn't reach for his phone this time.

instead, he immediately pulls you close against his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you and tucking your head securely under his chin.

he pulls the blanket all the way up over both of your shoulders, holding you so tight like he’s terrified you’ll disappear if he lets go.

his fingers are tracing slow, lazy circles on your bare shoulder, his chin resting right on top of your head.

you lay there for a long time, just listening to him breathe.

you… can’t believe this is happening. it feels like a fever dream. you’ve only dreamt of this ever happening to you with him.

"kook?" you whisper, your hand resting flat against his chest.

"yeah, baby?" his voice comes out soft.

"did you mean it? like, everything you said before?"

jungkook stops tracing your shoulder. he shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he can look down at you.

the dim light from the window hits his face, showing the slight bruise forming on his jaw and the tiny cut on his lip. his eyes are so soft, so entirely full of emotion it makes your chest ache all over again.

"every single fucking word," he whispers, his thumb gently wiping away a dry tear track on your cheek.

"i've never been more sure of anything in my life. i know i fucked up. i know i put you through so much bullshit because i was too much of a coward to face how i felt about you."

you look up at him, your eyes burning a little bit.

"i just... i spent months feeling like i was crazy, jungkook. i thought i was the only one feeling this. it hurt so bad."

"i know. and i hate myself for making you feel that way," he says, his voice cracking a little. he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

"i was just so scared that if i let myself love you, you’d realize i’m a mess and leave me. but watching you walk away last night? seeing you look at me like you completely hated me? that was way worse than any fear i had. i can't lose you, not now. not ever.”

you let out a soft breath, your fingers tangling into the hairs at the back of his neck, pulling him just a little bit closer. "you're not gonna lose me. i'm right here."

jungkook lets out this long, shaky sigh, like a massive weight has finally been lifted off his chest.

a tiny, breathless smile forms on his lips, and he kisses you.

"say you love me again," he murmurs against your mouth, his eyes burning into yours.

"i love you," you whisper.

"i love you." he says, his voice so thick with affection it completely melts you.

you laugh slightly, “why don’t you ever say ‘too’?”

he stares at you slightly, “I don’t love you because you love me. I love you, because I love you. because, you’re you.”

he drops back down onto the pillow, pulling you right back into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your neck.

you close your eyes, not wanting to say anything back. you feel so content it’s scary.

you can finally go to sleep in his arms without wondering if he’s going to be here in the morning

you can finally go to sleep without waking up earlier just to be able to get a glimpse of him before he leaves.

you can finally go to sleep without having to leave out an extra note pad so that he’d be able to leave you a letter in case he left in the middle of the night.

you can finally, go to sleep. knowing he’s yours. knowing he’s staying. and knowing that you both are exactly, where you guys want to be.

“You owe me!” Taehyung flails, feet stomping underneath the dining table like a tempered toddler.

Wedding season peaked in the fall — both a blessing and a curse. Hence, you only liked two things after being bombarded with back to back bookings: 1. a sweet treat 2. spending time with your friends. After weeks of tearful vows and hours of rigorous editing, seeing Taehyung, one of your closest friends since college, should be a blessing. 

Should be.

“When have we ever kept tally on owing shit? And for the last time, Tae,” you rub your temples, “I'm not helping you film. Can't you just cancel or reschedule with one of your directors?” 

In any other circumstance, you would have taken up this project.

You and Taehyung have a long-standing history starting as bright-eyed film students in the same cohort. You’d eventually discover his innate skills and very (heavy emphasis on the very) eccentric visions in film. He was different — highly cherished and praised by the university's faculty. You, on the other hand, put in extra hours only to barely skim the baseline.

You were just … good. Which isn’t a bad thing, but in a room full of endless potential and creativity, you felt like you didn’t belong. 

Taehyung never saw an issue in your style and passion, stereotypical or not.

Even though your classmates awarded him with the title “Most Likely to Win an Oscars,” he did quite the opposite. Everyone, including yourself, expected greatness from Kim Taehyung — whether it be through starting his own production company or winning a Sundance Film competition. 

But … his passions took a turn. 

Of all the spaces he could’ve wound up in, he landed himself in the adult film industry.

Yes. Porn.

When he broke the news on his career switch, you smiled and nodded, praying you didn’t display a single ounce of disdain. He’s been nothing but supportive in your journey and career. The least you can do is swallow and hide your judgment in favor of supporting your best friend.

Minus this particular tall ask. 

He frowns. “Please? I really need your help. You’ll do just fine, I promise.”

“I’m literally a wedding videographer.” You deadpan. 

“And you’d be perfect for the job!”

You shake your head vehemently, choosing to redirect all the attention to your untouched plate of chicken wings. They're cold now, time wasted on Taehyung's bizarre request.

“Come on.” He pleads. “I never ask you for these types of favors …”

"What about the time you asked me to stick a thermometer up your ass?"

"That was a medical emergency!"

You both continue listing crazy requests you’ve done for each other, inevitably leading to the same response: no, you didn’t want to film porn on his behalf. 

Boundaries existed for a reason and Taehyung knew when to throw in the towel. The last thing he'd want to do is make you uncomfortable.

Still, his shoulders drop, eyes hung low in disappointment. “Alright, I’ll let the director know I’ll have to miss out on this project.”

Bam, case-closed, you both can resume the night as intended.

Utensils scrape and clatter against the plates among other tables in the restaurant, but the silence and tension rings louder between you and your best friend. He purses his lips and looks away, unwilling to meet your eyes or say what’s weighing on his mind. 

You sigh. “Can I ask you something?”

"Sure, whatever." 'Sure? Whatever?' Now, that's teetering close to fighting words …

“Why this field? Our professors always loved your work—”

His bitter laugh cuts through your words. He leans against his chair and tips his head back.

“Spare me the judgment. I expected this from other people, not from my best friend.”

“I’m not judging—”

“You are.”

This was supposed to be a carefree night. 

No drama.

Instead, it seems to be leading right to the dreaded Talk™. Which, unfortunately, is anything but carefree.

“You’re right.” You concede, catching a flash of his frown. "Only because we've always tip-toed around this topic."

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth. Tell me why you decided on this route.”

“Dude, you can’t even say ‘sex work’ or ‘porn industry’ without looking like a deer in headlights. What makes you think I wanna talk to you about it?” Taehyung rolls his eyes. 

You grimace. Has your discomfort always been this apparent?

Hold on. Pause. 

“But you want me to help film?” You press.

“Well, I was wrong for trying to bring my friend out of their shell. There’s more out there besides weddings.”

Silence.

“W-wait.” He stammers. “That’s not what I meant. You know I respect–”

You hold a hand up. 

"I know.” You say, keeping your voice as leveled as possible. That was a talk for another time.

“Just tell me why you chose this route, Tae. I only ask because I genuinely care and want to know.”

You do.

Both you and Taehyung know that's all you do … too much sometimes, but that's what he loves about you.

“It’s just,” He starts, visibly uncomfortable and awkward, “I’m burnt out from all these expectations. You said it yourself ... ‘All the professors loved your work.’ I can’t fuckin’ keep up.”

“Filming porn is easy." He continues. "There’s no second-guessing. And … it's different. Makes me feel special.” He sniffs and wipes at his nose. “I'm happy there.”

You grab his hand, squeezing gently while he looks at you with a guilt stricken expression.

“I'm sorry for being short with you.” He apologizes. "You're right too. We keep dodging this topic."

Your thumb traces the top of his hand, “I think I’m just a little biased about that—the porn industry.” You correct yourself. “For the record, I'll always support you.”

Taehyung scoots closer to your chair and wraps his arms around you.

“I really did mean it when I said you’d be perfect for the job.”

You laugh. “I don’t think they need a wedding videographer’s touch for that sort of production, but thanks.”

The night continues as intended: lighthearted and free. Waitresses and nearby patrons stare in fascination (or in annoyance … you can't tell nor do you care) whenever a laugh rings a little louder at your table. You always feel fuller after being around your best friend.

“Proud of ya,” he drunkenly confesses after one too many drinks. “Love seeing you in your element.” 

Funnily enough, Taehyung had also dabbled into the wedding industry. Let's just say his clients didn't appreciate his … visions. Not everyone was keen on a Carrie themed wedding announcement, okay?

That's the difference between you and Taehyung. Tried and true versus abstract and risky. There's much to learn from each other, which is why the friendship works.

And you do have a thing or two to learn from Taehyung. 

Hell, you’ve always played it safe – never tested boundaries. You went to school, got decent grades, and now you run your own business. Everything was fine. Too fine.

The world was your oyster; yet, you’ve never made a quest to seek out for more. Point is, you’re comfortable and that’s what makes you uncomfortable.

Substituting for one of Taehyung’s gigs wouldn’t mean you’re forever locked in to that field … right? Makes you wonder, should you just do it? 

“Fuck it,” you mumble to yourself. 

“Hm?” Taehyung looks up from his phone after placing an order for a cab.

“I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

“Huh? What are you—”

“Filming. Just this once.” You say, more definite in your words.

“Wait, uh, are you serious? You don’t have to, really. I was kidding when I said you owed me.” Taehyung waves his hands frantically.

“No shit.” You grin. “We’re friends. There’s no such thing as owing each other favors. I want to help you because I do. It’s important to you; therefore, important to me.” Self-growth, you tell yourself, because you needed that too.

He stares at you and shakes his head. 

“Let’s talk again when we’re both sober, okay?”

“But …”

“Sober.” He says, final and definite.

One week later

“Not too late to back out.” Taehyung’s voice blares through your phone speaker. 

Actually, it was too late and highly unprofessional if you were to back out the night before. 

“Why would I do that?”

He says your name sternly, “You don’t have to do something you’re uncomfortable with.” 

“Then why would you even ask me to do it?” You stare at your phone, hands slowing as you rub your moisturizer into your skin. 

“Honestly? Didn’t think you’d actually agree …” 

Hard to believe since he damn near dropped on his knees begging for your help.

“Well … surprise.”

“Okay, thank you. Seriously. You really are doing me a huge favor.” He sighs. “Let me know if you need any pointers.”

“Think I should be okay.” You lie. One way or another, you'll get through this project. Similar to your wedding bookings, you'll go in blindly. And similar to your bookings, everything has an opportunity to end beautifully … or not.

Again, you remind yourself to keep an open mind.

“I’m still shocked about this whole ordeal.” He confesses. 

“How so?” 

“You've never seen someone else's genitalia in the flesh.” He snorts.

“I know what a penis and vagina looks like, Tae.” You roll your eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

Celibacy at your age was nothing groundbreaking. Remaining a virgin at twenty-nine, however, was not something you accounted for. Your parents' strict dating policy as an adolescent residing under their roof had lots to do with it, but you had full reigns of your romantic life in college. Thanks to your fixation with school, dating never happened; consequently, sex never happened either.

Though, you had many close "fuck it" moments and contemplated randomly hooking up with a stranger to say you've at least experienced sex. Again, never happened. Your first time should be with someone you trusted and cared for. Plus, physical attraction played a huge role and there wasn’t anyone you felt particularly drawn to like that.

At the end of the day, virginity was a social construct. Life goes on. Who cares whether you've been sexually active with another person? 

Hint: you do. And secretly, so does the rest of society.

“So what?”

“Kind of poetic if you think about it.”

What was so poetic about filming porn as a virgin?

“Whatever you say, Shakespeare.” You scoff.

“That's a compliment." You don't have to see him to know he's got a prideful smirk plastered on his face. "But alright, I won’t keep you up any longer. Big day ahead of you tomorrow. Text me if anything comes up.”

“Mmkay, will do. G'night.”

Your clock reads a quarter after eleven. Too late to be doing any editing, but your mind buzzes with one too many thoughts to allow for respite. 

Settling into bed, you crack open your laptop. Might as well be productive and work out your inquiries and schedule for the upcoming month.

Emails? Replied.

Bookings? Confirmed.

Stomach? In knots.

You sink deeper into your mattress. Maybe this was all a mistake, but it's too late to back out now. 

Laptop still perched on your stomach, you groan before immediately clicking into your private browser tab to type in the infamous website you frequented in your early college years when curiosity got the best of you and hormones ran high. 

The first thing you saw were the flashing ads. ‘WANNA JERK OFF? YOU WON’T LAST FIVE SECONDS.’ Next came the tits. And by god, there were lots. You’ve never seen anything more perfect and round than the ones on your screen. A hand leaves your keyboard to grip your covered breast. Hm, yeah, definitely smaller than the ones you see — nipple far from perky like theirs.

More random thumbnails of lewd images pop up as you soak in the page. Your heart races and palms sweat, exhilaration coursing through you as you type in the production company’s name: RkivedShots.

“This is all for educational purposes. Like studying the night before an exam. Yep.” You reason.

Laying against your headboard, your knees prop up to steady your laptop. Hands reaching for your wired earphones, you lower the volume on your speakers in the event you accidentally clicked on something. 

You didn't live with any roommates, but this felt private. In the off chance your neighbors had super hearing powers, you preferred keeping all potentially explicit sounds to yourself.

'Director Kim is different. I like his vision. Totally my style.' Taehyung recounted during a coffee run last week.

Within ten seconds of being on the company’s channel, you concluded one thing: RkivedShots was … odd.

You hover over a thumbnail appearing as a clam, later transforming to a vagina. The title of the video read: reborn as a mussel like aphrodite spawning in sea foam [cum as sea foam].

What the hell.

‘we found god in each other’s genitals’

‘possessive possession — don’t worry, we have a shaman on site’

‘if you were clay, i’d mold you into the prettiest vase [hardcore bdsm]’

Your eyes widen at all the titles, which progressively worsens with the video’s preview containing trippy transitions and themes. Oh, you feel sick.

The idea of filming porn was no easy feat as is, let alone editing afterwards. But if you can’t even stand looking at RkivedShots’ thumbnails, how were you going to survive being on set tomorrow?

Fuck, you have to persevere.

‘fucking the patriarchy out of a conservative [not clickbait]’

Seems normal … ish.

You click on the video out of curiosity.

Big mistake.

Let's paint the scene: Two men at the Oval Office. One man, rather on the thinner side, dressed in hipster clothing with a matcha latte in one hand and a book in another while he had, what you presume, an older politician bent over a desk. 

“SAY YOU LOVE FEMINISM OR ELSE I WON’T FUCK YOU.”

“OH FUCK, I LOVE FEMINISM!!! PLEASE DON'T STOP!” The politician begs and fucks himself back.

Book tossed onto the desk, the hipster pours his iced matcha latte onto the politician’s back and begins going to pound town while the national anthem played in the background.

Your jaw drops.

With a grimace and a quick 'ew,' you frantically search for the back button to free yourself of whatever was playing. Says a lot when you feel more relief on the company's main channel than you had on that one video.

“God, what was that?” You mumble, finger swiping at your mousepad to sift through other videos. Your eyes land on another video titled ‘grapefruit.’ Short and simple. You’re not chancing it though and would rather edit a twenty hour long footage than watch someone potentially fuck a grapefruit … or whatever Director Kim came up with.

Finally, you reach a video appearing "normal" based on the title and thumbnail alone, only showcasing a half naked man in boxer briefs, face cut from view. His tattooed arm rests on his torso, hand cupping his groin area. 

‘relax with me after a long day [JK 🐰]’

You swallow. 

Thirty minutes long. A simple masturbation video. In comparison to all the hour long videos on this channel, this felt like an anomaly. Heart hammering in your chest, you click on the thumbnail.

You made a mental note to call it a night if you see even one crazy transition. You're hopeful though — hopeful the video would do exactly as the title suggested.

To relax — ease your mind a little after being exposed to nothing but oddities this evening.

Maybe, this one will be normal. 

But this begged another question: was porn normal?

Your breath hitches once the video begins, soft piano music playing in the background. The man on screen stirs something in the depths of your stomach. The piercings, sharp jawline, and angled brows paired with his round eyes? Every part of his face was a contradiction. And yet, you were undeniably captivated by his beauty. 

Eyes talk and his spoke to you without words. 

Unlike the video’s thumbnail, he’s completely clothed. The production style mirrored a vlog, except there's the looming knowledge of what's yet to come. Probably him. No, undoubtedly him. 

“Hey.” He greets with a lopsided grin. You increase the volume on your earphones a little higher, eager to hear more of him. 

The video cuts to him cooking a meal, eating, watching television, and working out. Mundane life stuff. Every segment was less than three seconds long. Short-lived. That is, until the next clip cuts to him showering.

The all-glass shower and camera angled modestly leave viewers with wandering thoughts. Even with the steam blurring the shower glass, there's urgency in his movements — longing to rejoin the camera.

The sight of him emerging from the shower stall has you clenching your thighs together. Camera still propped at the same angle, you're only able to make out his upper half. Which, honestly, was more than enough for your mind to dip into darker territories. And fuck … his dripping wet hair and body does things to your poor heart … among other parts of your body. 

As he dries his hair, you catch his eyes. 

Again, no actual words get exchanged. He keeps you entranced.

He’s on a light brown couch now, appearances matching the video’s thumbnail. 

Fumbling with the camera, he props it on the table. Not even one second after he backed away, the camera falls face down. He chuckles, rich and full of life. You bite back your own giggle having related to his struggle plenty of times in the past. 

“Whoops, sorry—dropped ya' on accident.” He says as he moves the camera upright. Seated back, that's when you see it. 

The outline of his hard cock. 

How’d he get like that? You’re not sure.

What you’re sure of, though, is how your body reacts as he smirks. Given any other man you've encountered online with this exact demeanor, you'd immediately rule them as overly confident, borderline cocky — only deserving of being ignored. Yet, you stay for him.

He knows he's hot.

And maybe for that reason, he needs no formal transition or introduction to what he does next. Your eyes follow the hand trailing down his torso and past the waistband of his boxers. Still covered, he wraps his hand around his hard length. The outline of his closed fist moves slowly, tugging until he releases a shaky breath.

“Fuck—ngh,” he tosses his head back, moans coming out sporadically — the slight lift in his voice damn near mimicked a whine.

Tongue heavier in your mouth, you watch him pull the front of his boxers down to expose his cock. It slaps against his abdomen. Thick. Hard. Flushed. 

He’s so beautiful. It’s only natural every part of him matched his perfection. The vein running on the underside of his cock matched with the ones on his hand.

You really should click out. 

Really. 

You shouldn’t dip your hand down your front.

Shouldn’t cup your still-covered pussy only to feel your arousal has seeped through your panties. 

Shouldn’t press your middle finger down your covered slit.

Shouldn’t whimper when he pauses to spit into his hand only to go back to jerking his length, legs spreading wider.

“Wish you were here with me.”

You’re not sure who he was referring to. Certainly not you, but the admission was enough coercion to give into your needs. 

For a moment, you forget why you're even on this site. "Research" purposes. Right. Yeah … and you're in the exploratory phase now, searching aimlessly for some form of relief.

You deserved it.

He wants you to.

Why else would the video be titled that way? 

The handsome man on your screen seems to contribute to your reasoning, giving you one more reason, one last go ahead. His honey voice resounds in your ears. “Want you to play with yourself too. Can you do that for me?”

The softly spoken request sends a shock wave down your spine, and if you weren’t already so aroused you would be ashamed at how fast your body reacted.

Your brows pull together at the bare contact of your middle finger and clit. 

You moan as you rub your clit in small circles, relieved from the motion. The occasional wet sounds reach your ears when you move a little quicker to match his pace.

You’re determined to do so, especially when he keeps voicing his praises. “Good. So good. Can you keep up with me?”

The laptop's fan whirs on your stomach, heat keeping you warm. Your forearm knocks and shakes the laptop. Still, you had the perfect view of him.

Another shaky breath slips past your lips.

His hips lift from the couch, hand paying extra attention to the top half of his shaft. He knows what he likes. What gets him shuddering — what gets him wanting more.

A clear, translucent liquid builds at his slit the more he jerks himself off. Doesn't touch it though — no, not yet. Lets it build until it dribbles down the edge of his length on its own, and he lets out a particularly raspy moan at the sight.

"Fuck." You choke, arm slipping down lower. Your middle finger stops just at your entrance.

Penetration was not your thing, but tonight, you entertain the fantasy of him inside you. Middle finger teasing your entrance, you push and prod, imagining his tip kissing your entrance. Would he beg to enter inside of you, whine and groan the same way he does while playing alone with himself? Smear and mark his precum all over your entrance to claim you as his?

Truthfully, the concept of something entering in you felt better than the actual act. You've tried fingering yourself in the past — hurt and burned like hell. Could never get the position right. And honestly? Who cared knowing the clit was right there?

But the thought of the man on screen pushing his length inside — stuffing you, fucking you, filling you up good … god, you needed to feel something, anything, inside you. 

Arousal trailing down your slit and ass, you wedge your arm down even lower. Your finger pushes against your entrance with a little more purpose, the first knuckle slipping in with little resistance.

Eyes shut, you bite the inside of your cheeks. You don't linger inside for long as a result of the stinging sensation.

A sigh of relief tumbles out as your finger goes back to its happy place.

Again, tried and true.

“Wanna cum with you so badly.” He breathes, jaw going slack before he wraps his lips around the digits of his other free hand. You watch with anticipation, teeth biting down your bottom lip at the sight of his wet, glistening fingers tracing around his nipple. 

T-shirt tucked underneath your chin, you shudder from the cold air, but copy what the man does. Imagine it’s his lips enclosed over your hardened nipples, the cold metal piercing making contact against your skin. He’d look up at you, smile prettily like he has in the video, and worship your body as he likes.

Fuck. 

There’s a certain numbness you feel at the bottom of your stomach signaling your end. You tense, fingers moving faster over your clit. 

His once pushed-back wet bangs are now dried and wavy on his forehead. If not for all the sinful acts he’s doing to himself neck down, he’d look like someone you could see hanging out with and talking to — a friend. Let’s be real … how good of a friend can you be to someone you’re about to cum with? 

He's not faring any better. His impatient whines grow louder, bleary eyes fighting to stay open as he jerks himself off faster. Everything tells you he’s going to cum: the blush on his chest, the tightness in his balls, the freshly bitten lips. 

Oh, you want every bit of it. Want, no, need to see how he finishes and how he loses control of his body in his climax. 

But just at the last second, he pulls away. Cock resting flushed and firm against his stomach, he laughs. Breathless, akin to a mock. Your hand comes to a halt as well, clit twitching against your fingers. There's no gratification in cumming if the experience was stolen and watered down.

“Sorry,” he breathes. “Still with me? Didn’t finish yet, right?”

A soft, yet frustrated whine leaves your lips. Technically, you didn't need him — could finish the job yourself. But you wanted this … wanted to end with him.

You wait patiently, body reeling in excitement as he wraps his hand around his length again. Your fingers remain stagnant, afraid one minor movement might lead to an unsatisfied orgasm.

“Want you to finish with me. Please?” His head falls back as he wanks himself again, speed ramping up. 

He does this multiple times. Gets himself all worked up. Teases himself—teases his viewer. Gets close. Stops. 

Rinse and repeat.

He edges himself near the point of punishment — excels at it like it’s his favorite sport.

And you follow after him every time because it feels good to be led like this. You’re so fucking wet, fingers coated with your slick. You're sure if you move from where you’re laying, there would be a damp spot on your bedsheets, a clear indicator of your arousal.

“You wanna cum with me so badly, huh?” He husks. “Been so good for me, yeah? Would be so nice to cum together, right baby? I’ll give you what you want.” 

His words earn another moan from you — and fuck, you don’t think you can last a minute longer. Quickly, your mouse hovers at the time bar again, eyes scanning for any indication of the most played segment. 

28:37. The video peaks right there — the finish line.

And you're deserving of every bit of this victory.

He wets his lips with his tongue and smiles. The glint of his lip piercings catches the light and then—

"Oh fuckfuckfuck, I'm gonna cum—"

You've been so good, so obedient. To hell with your goal of a timed orgasm to match his … you have to put yourself first. Toes curled, your body loses all control as you finish before him. 

It's enough, though. His whines, the stutter of his chest, the speed of his hand. And when his cum paints his abdomen and dribbles over his veiny fist, your hand flattens on your mound, four fingers rubbing vigorously to extend every second of your long-awaited orgasm. Back arching off your headboard, your body withers from the impact: gut-punching, velvety … practically soul-sucking.

You lay there shaking and sensitive from your earth-shattering orgasm for a couple seconds before pulling your hand out of your pants. It's then you realize how numb and achy your arm got from all the exertion. You raise your poor hand to your face, light catching and displaying a clear sheen of the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Before your mind could register what you had done, a breathy laugh cuts through the silence.

“Fuck. That was a good one.”

Whelp, there it is: post-nut clarity.

You’ve never ripped your earphones out and closed a browser faster than you have now. Shame heats up the back of your neck at the realization you had just beat off to a random stranger online. Sure, you’ve done so before in your early twenties, but you’ve grown since then (so you think). There were many alternatives to getting off without watching other people. 

You shake your head in embarrassment, forearm coming up to cover your eyes. 

Every part of your body feels weightless, tension no longer present in your muscles after finishing the way you did. As tempting as it was to just go to sleep, you know you’ll regret not cleaning up the mess between your legs and fingers in the morning. 

Another minute goes by before forcing yourself to look for a new pair of underwear and sleep shorts. The clean up and change in the bathroom is quick only because you can’t bear looking into the mirror. 

So afraid you’ll unearth and confront your true feelings of the time spent with the video: You liked it. Specifically, you liked how safe you felt behind the screen with that man. 

Sleep comes with little effort tonight … all thanks to a boy with eyes that spoke without words.

a/n: ty to my lovely betas @takeitawaykenny & @lovieku!! yall both saved my life with ur eagle eyes and big brains. this couldn’t have happened without your guys help and input 🥺 tytytytytyyyy

now.. gentle readers, thoughts/predictions? im editing ch1 atm, so any encouragement would be greatly appreciated ♡ i anticipate posting in a couple weeks. toodles!!

edit: no taglist for this series!

ex boyfriend jungkook, who has to look away from you when he realizes that he’s been staring far too hard and long that his eyes begin to burn, the moisture in his eyes beginning to dehydrate if he didn’t blink soon.

ex boyfriend jungkook, who decided that you and he weren’t together anymore and thus things didn’t need to be awkward. thus, he joins in on the festivities, even if you and he don’t talk and only give subtle glances.

ex boyfriend jungkook, who looks so good that you want to continue to roll your eyes. of course in jungkook fashion, he makes sure to show off his toned arms, his sleeveless shirt showcasing the tattoo sleeve you remember tracing once upon a time while in bed together.

ex boyfriend jungkook, who watches the way you down the shots alongside your best friend, and woman who’s been glaring daggers at him the entire time - he wasn’t fond of her either. she was always getting into your head while you were in a relationship with him - there was a reason why that bitch was single.

ex boyfriend jungkook, who is now forced into an awkward three-way hug by a tipsy jimin. “thaaaank you both for coming!” he sing-songs, not caring if the tension between the two of you were present. “you two look so good! did you dress to impress one another?”

ex boyfriend jungkook, who before he could respond and deny it - even if he cut the sleeves on his shirt himself before coming, wore the cologne you swore was your favorite on him and even got a fresh cut - you do. “as if i’d ever do anything to impress that man.” even if you yourself had intentionally worn the shortest skirt you owned with the same lacy panties that jungkook bought you, even if you weren’t going to directly show him.

ex boyfriend jungkook, who snaps back, “it’ll take more than a slutty skirt to impress me, either way.” even if it was a complete lie because he’s having a hard time not to look down at you right now - but he has a point to prove. “besides, that bitch of a friend must’ve dressed her. she’s never dressed like that before.”

ex boyfriend jungkook, hears jimin giggle in the middle of you two, his head thrown back at the obvious conversation he’s instigated between the two of you that isn’t so obvious to you or jungkook. “so you admit she looks good?” he asks.

ex boyfriend jungkook snorts and rolls his eyes, because now he’ll be damned if he admits that to you. you do, he thinks, and from here he can smell that warm vanilla lotion you love to use. “what i meant was,” he glances at you. “it’s obvious she wants someone’s attention.”

ex boyfriend jungkook scoffs when you laugh, but your eyes remain hard. “not you.” you spat out. “typical for you to think that, though. you were always insecure about other men looking at me.”

ex boyfriend jungkook’s eyes harden at you, he bites the inside of his cheek. his heart quickens, the alcohol flowing through him making his body radiate with even more heat. but you’re more upset that you continue to talk - “that’s why we ended things, right?”

ex boyfriend jungkook, who focuses so hard on you that he doesn’t realize that jimin had removed his arm from around the two of you. he backs away slowly because his work here was done. he was tired of hearing how much jungkook missed you and how lonely you felt without talking to jungkook throughout the day.

ex boyfriend jungkook responds. “yeah, because it was easier than you to just stop being stubborn.” he hisses. “so now look at you. single just like that friend you listen to.”

ex boyfriend jungkook is nearly chest to chest with you, peering down at you with equally glaring eyes. his heart jolts with excitement that he does hold your attention, even if its with irritation and annoyance.

ex boyfriend jungkook who’s left dumbfounded when you do respond to him - “and look at you. still insecure like i knew you would be.” you don’t mean it, but one thing you and jungkook were when heated like this was toxic. you both said things you didn’t mean. “you just weren’t man enough for me, kookie.”

ex boyfriend jungkook watches the way you turn away and walk in the crowd. he’s stunned at your word, but that soon turns to humiliation and anger. he stalks after you, watching the way you stop at a table full of people and drinks and pick up to take a shot.

ex boyfriend jungkook who snatches you by your bicep as you place the shot to your lips and down it. the small plastic cup drops from your fingers as you’re forced to look at a seething jungkook - there’s a sudden throbbing between your legs at the dark look in his eyes. “say it again.”

ex boyfriend jungkook, doesn’t care about the attention he’s drawing in the crowded people. it’s (of course) jimin who draws it all back by coming through with more shots. he tugs at your bicep again, this time tightening his grip. “say it again,” he repeats, his voice dropping to a whisper that you hear clear as day. “don’t act shy now.”

ex boyfriend jungkook who has you pinned against the bathroom door, locking it behind you. his lips are at your neck, suckling as if it was his life force. your hand is tugging at his shirt as his tattooed hand find it’s way between your legs. “not man enough?” he breaths, his fingers finding the lacy fabric of your now damp panties. “you get this wet for someone who isn’t man enough?”

ex boyfriend jungkook who finds his fingers pulling those lazy panties to the side to swipe at your puffy clit. he groans loudly, the music behind the door gets louder - yet again, jimin’s doing. he brings his fingers to his lips and plop them right into his mouth, the lewd act you witness having your knees buckle. “just how i remembered.”

ex boyfriend jungkook, who plunges his fingers deep inside of you, holding you right in place against the door so you don’t have anywhere to squirm to. your head is back against the door, your mouth open to let out such pleasured moans for a man that you said wasn’t enough.

ex boyfriend jungkook says, “your pussy missed being played with, huh?” so smugly, because he knows the truth. Your arousal pools all around you - on your thighs, down his wrist to the floor.

ex boyfriend jungkook laughs when you bite back a “fuck you” followed by a push of his chest. “yeah, you’d like me to, huh?” he hisses, his fingers plunging deeper that his palms slams against your clit for added pleasure. “you always liked to be fucked so disrespectfully.”

ex boyfriend jungkook slaps you - it’s sudden and in the heat of the moment, but right there you cum all around his fingers. why does he slap you? It was the “i faked it to boost that pathetic ego of yours.” that sent him.

ex boyfriend jungkook who bends you over the counter, the mirror in front of you two showcasing just how fucked out you are that there was no way your words weren’t anything but lies. “faked it, huh?” jungkook forces your thighs apart, his hand tugging down your panties fully that he realizes it's the same pair he’s gifted you. “wore these for me, baby?”

ex boyfriend jungkook who shoves his own pants down, followed by his underwear to reveal his hardened cock, pink and angry, dripping with pre-cum and ready to feel you again. “of course not.” you lie easily. “i wore it for a man that could actually handle me.”

you say it because you know it’s what would rile up ex boyfriend jungkook and just as you expected, there’s a rough smack against your ass, then, you feel him. you’re so tight, jungkook thinks, his eyes fluttering as he enters your sweet pussy raw.

ex boyfriend jungkook who’s mind dramatically showcases it all - a rushing waterfall surrounded by bliss; butterflies and singing birds with an endless shining sun - a world so euphoric that he never wants it to end. he ruts his hips, groaning loudly at how amazing you felt.

ex boyfriend jungkook who loves how beautiful your pussy sounds as he fucks you from behind. It gushes and squelches loudly for him - someone who wasn’t man enough. “i missed the way this pussy felt around me,” he groans, eyes fixed on the way your ass bounces against him. “if only you could see how wet she is, baby. you still faking it?”

ex boyfriend jungkook slaps your ass again when you stutter out a “f-fuck y-you!” he does it again, and again - and again. It only makes your pussy wetter and even tighter. Were his eyes deceiving him, or did you widen your legs for him?

ex boyfriend jungkook who fucks your so deliciously that your eyes roll. you attempt to hold onto something, but there’s nothing sturdy enough to do so. it’s as if jungkook knows, however, and his hand reaches for yours. “I got you, baby” he says so tenderly in your ear.

just by the tone in which ex boyfriend jungkook speaks to you has you submitting far quicker than you wanted. his breath on your ear that also tickles your skin - you missed him more than you thought you’d would. “more~” you plead.

ex boyfriend jungkook gives you exactly what you ask him for. his free hand slides up from your waist to underneath your shirt until he has a firm grip on your breast. his cock springs deep inside of you, hitting that spot he knows all too well. your back arches, wanting to feel more and more of him.

ex boyfriend jungkook who squeezes your breast in his palms so tightly, panting against your neck. you’re the wettest you’ve ever been in months and he feels every bit of pleasured arousal. “feel so good, baby~” he whimpers against your neck. “did you miss me?”

ex boyfriend jungkook that doesn’t meant to ask you that. he doesn’t want to get too sentimental and allow feelings into this. it would do nothing but disappoint him, but he desperately wants to hear the answer. “yeah,” he hears you breath out, your pussy squeezing him tighter and tighter. “yeah i-i…missed you.”

ex boyfriend jungkook who presses his lips to yours when you turn your head to look at him with blurred eyes. he forces his tongue into your willing mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. it was obvious that he missed you, too, more than you knew. he wonders if you deleted the text threads on your phone, and if not, had you opened it and typed before erasing the messages? had you clicked on his contact and contemplated on hitting “call” before deciding against it?

ex boyfriend jungkook who says “me, too.” when you exclaim that you’re cumming. but he doesn’t want it to end. he doesn’t want for things to back how they were - subtly awkward glances and heated exchanges. “come with me tonight,”

you’re cumming first, your thighs shaking as that warm feeling radiates through you. ex boyfriend jungkook cums immediately after, barely able to pull himself out of you - he doesn’t want to you didn’t want him to. warm cum spills all over your inner thigh, his body collapsing on top of yours as you and him pant.

it’s silent in the restroom as you and ex boyfriend jungkook get cleaned. the music is still loud from the outside. for a moment, jungkook has forgotten where he was and just why you and he came here.

It isn’t jungkook who breaks the silence first. you’d pull your panties up after cleaning yourself off, glancing jungkook’s way. “i didn’t mean it.” you murmur, voice low. “i was just upset.”

ex boyfriend jungkook clears his throat. “i know,” he responds. “i was, too.”

this is exactly what ex boyfriend jungkook wanted to prevent. the awkwardness that came after such a high. his heart jolts, his throat tightening. “i miss you.” he admits again. “you don’t have to say it back.” he quickly interjects. “i just…want you to know.”

you don’t say it back, even if ex boyfriend jungkook wants to hear you say it again. instead you run a hand through your hair. “thanks for telling me.”

ex boyfriend jungkook who nods his head softly.